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Description
Silence. That was all that composed the place.
It hung thick and cloying over the slabs of discarded stone, winding its insidious way around the grooves etched into the old rock, slithering along the grass to curl itself around the feet of those who stood there. Most in the small group were stirring, turning slightly to uneasily regard the withered trees and looming monuments, but the one at the group's front stood still, a faint frown marking his face as he regarded the way forward.
Strategically speaking, dividing the group was idiocy. This was unknown territory, and the air carried more than a hint of something unpleasant, the eyes carved in every jutting stone seeming to watch them, waiting. No, separating the group was not wise in the slightest.
"We'll separate to cover more ground, then meet back here once we find her," the leader announced, abruptly, and at that two of the group instantly departed, but as the third moved forward to do the same, the fourth followed her.
The woman paused, eyes slowly narrowing.
"'Separate,' Robert."
"Yeah!"
"...Sigh."
The two drifted forward together, but the one who had given the order was not there to see it disobeyed; he had moved forward as soon as he had spoken, walking briskly away into the stony labyrinth, alert to every shadow.
It was not long before he found himself quite alone, a fact that would not have bothered him, if only the glow hadn't suddenly flickered into existence at the edge of his vision.
He twisted sharply to meet it, hands going instantly to the handles of the twin swords sheathed at his sides, his gaze hardening at the sight that greeted him. The etchings along the stones were flaring to life, one after another, like torches being slowly lit; the vibrant color of unbridled magic pulsed through them, a form of magic associated with death for good reason, outlining the various bars and the sightless eyes even as the stone pupils of these seemed to draw in the darkness.
"Who's there?" He barked, abruptly, drawing his weapons even as he began slowly turning, not exposing his back to any one opening for too long.
It was a long moment before the answer came, and when it did come, it came as a guttural chuckle.
"...It is not we that you should look for. It is yourself."
He saw the shattering of the shadows behind him, and jerked to the side just in time to avoid the massive blade that would have skewered him where he stood. He retaliated with his own strike, the broadsword blocking before both swordsmen pulled away, mirroring each other's action, each wanting a chance to survey their opponent for weakness.
And it was then that Franco's eyes widened, startled, as he found himself facing himself.
The other him, the apparition or doppelganger or whatever creature it was, tightened its hold on its weapon and narrowed its eyes, not seeming startled in the slightest to regard a twin version of itself.
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Franco snarled, shifting, readying himself to lunge forward again.
"Where is she?!"
"That's a question I've been asking for a very long time," his voice replied, acidic.
"I thought she was dead. But now I have found her."
That answer--and its implication that this thing had wanted his sister dead for a very long time--set Franco to snarling again, but that was when another voice cried out.
"Brother! Brother?! Where--"
Franco had raised his head at that, and so had his foe, the two’s eyes meeting. And then, quite abruptly, the other man was gone, vanishing behind the stones, not even the faintest whisper of the grass indicating where he had gone. But then again, Franco already had a fairly clear idea of where he would be going.
He twisted in the direction of the voice and shot forward, weaving between the stones as they continued to burst into fuchsia flame, until finally he swerved around the final monument, and there she was—and the shadow of the other man appearing atop the stone directly behind her.
“Sarah!”
It was a roar, and he threw himself forward, slamming into the startled blonde girl and shoving her out of the way, twisting to bring his swords up—and then there was pain, a vicious crimson that distorted the world as he fell, pinned to the earth by the weapon that had run him through. He was vaguely aware of his sister screaming, and despite the blood welling thickly from the wound it was her safety that most immediately concerned him; but his other had not moved to go after the girl, was regarding him coolly from where he stood above him.
“Trying to use her as a hostage? I don’t really… have pleasant memories of those who do that. Like Hide. I suppose you know her?”
The blade sunk deeper and he winced, gritting his teeth. The man’s words made no sense at all, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was Sarah--
“Sarah, I told you to stay where you were.”
His voice again, but he was not the one speaking, the one who had him pinned scowling at his sister. The girl, however, seemed to be following her brother’s tactic of considering everything the man said as inane, the white runes flaring into existence around her hands as she prepared to attack in her own fashion. But that was when the magic abruptly died, the spell abandoned as the man spoke.
“If you attack, he dies… I’m sorry, sister.”
“S-Sarah, get out of—“ he started, again, trying to tell her to run, and for his efforts he was greeted with more pain, his attacker slightly twisting the massive blade.
“Don’t talk to her.”
It was surreal. All of it. This twisted mimic of her brother, that barren place she had found herself lost in, the fact that her brother was—she could see the blood, the way the grass stained crimson, and she could not heal a wound while the cause of it was still lodged with him.
She sunk to her knees with a soft croak, the first stunned tears coming to her eyes before she abruptly twisted, clutching at the assailant’s shirt.
“P-Please, no, d-don’t—“
“It’s ironic, really. The reason I would like you to suffer is because you have somehow twisted her mind into believing you are me, but because of that same reason, I’ll have to kill you swiftly so as to not hurt her.” The man grated, the tone of his voice clearly suggesting that a brief death had not been in his plans. His hold on the handle tightened, and Sarah’s eyes jerked wide open, her magic abruptly flaring up again, realizing that, compliance or not, the man intended to kill—
He heard her scream, but it was cut off with a violent wrench of the blade, and everything went dark.

EW CRAPPY WRITING IS EW

Merry Christmas, dear. <3
I LOVE YOU GODDAMMET BUT ALL THIS WRITING JUST KILLED MY MIND AND I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING TO SAY KLJDFLFJ ;AAAAAAAA;

Had fun attempting foreshortening/perspective/atmosphere etc etc etc. LOOK IT'S NOT A SUNSET! 8D

Awesome people (c)

Description
Silence. That was all that composed the place.
It hung thick and cloying over the slabs of discarded stone, winding its insidious way around the grooves etched into the old rock, slithering along the grass to curl itself around the feet of those who stood there. Most in the small group were stirring, turning slightly to uneasily regard the withered trees and looming monuments, but the one at the group's front stood still, a faint frown marking his face as he regarded the way forward.
Strategically speaking, dividing the group was idiocy. This was unknown territory, and the air carried more than a hint of something unpleasant, the eyes carved in every jutting stone seeming to watch them, waiting. No, separating the group was not wise in the slightest.
"We'll separate to cover more ground, then meet back here once we find her," the leader announced, abruptly, and at that two of the group instantly departed, but as the third moved forward to do the same, the fourth followed her.
The woman paused, eyes slowly narrowing.
"'Separate,' Robert."
"Yeah!"
"...Sigh."
The two drifted forward together, but the one who had given the order was not there to see it disobeyed; he had moved forward as soon as he had spoken, walking briskly away into the stony labyrinth, alert to every shadow.
It was not long before he found himself quite alone, a fact that would not have bothered him, if only the glow hadn't suddenly flickered into existence at the edge of his vision.
He twisted sharply to meet it, hands going instantly to the handles of the twin swords sheathed at his sides, his gaze hardening at the sight that greeted him. The etchings along the stones were flaring to life, one after another, like torches being slowly lit; the vibrant color of unbridled magic pulsed through them, a form of magic associated with death for good reason, outlining the various bars and the sightless eyes even as the stone pupils of these seemed to draw in the darkness.
"Who's there?" He barked, abruptly, drawing his weapons even as he began slowly turning, not exposing his back to any one opening for too long.
It was a long moment before the answer came, and when it did come, it came as a guttural chuckle.
"...It is not we that you should look for. It is yourself."
He saw the shattering of the shadows behind him, and jerked to the side just in time to avoid the massive blade that would have skewered him where he stood. He retaliated with his own strike, the broadsword blocking before both swordsmen pulled away, mirroring each other's action, each wanting a chance to survey their opponent for weakness.
And it was then that Franco's eyes widened, startled, as he found himself facing himself.
The other him, the apparition or doppelganger or whatever creature it was, tightened its hold on its weapon and narrowed its eyes, not seeming startled in the slightest to regard a twin version of itself.
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Franco snarled, shifting, readying himself to lunge forward again.
"Where is she?!"
"That's a question I've been asking for a very long time," his voice replied, acidic.
"I thought she was dead. But now I have found her."
That answer--and its implication that this thing had wanted his sister dead for a very long time--set Franco to snarling again, but that was when another voice cried out.
"Brother! Brother?! Where--"
Franco had raised his head at that, and so had his foe, the two’s eyes meeting. And then, quite abruptly, the other man was gone, vanishing behind the stones, not even the faintest whisper of the grass indicating where he had gone. But then again, Franco already had a fairly clear idea of where he would be going.
He twisted in the direction of the voice and shot forward, weaving between the stones as they continued to burst into fuchsia flame, until finally he swerved around the final monument, and there she was—and the shadow of the other man appearing atop the stone directly behind her.
“Sarah!”
It was a roar, and he threw himself forward, slamming into the startled blonde girl and shoving her out of the way, twisting to bring his swords up—and then there was pain, a vicious crimson that distorted the world as he fell, pinned to the earth by the weapon that had run him through. He was vaguely aware of his sister screaming, and despite the blood welling thickly from the wound it was her safety that most immediately concerned him; but his other had not moved to go after the girl, was regarding him coolly from where he stood above him.
“Trying to use her as a hostage? I don’t really… have pleasant memories of those who do that. Like Hide. I suppose you know her?”
The blade sunk deeper and he winced, gritting his teeth. The man’s words made no sense at all, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was Sarah--
“Sarah, I told you to stay where you were.”
His voice again, but he was not the one speaking, the one who had him pinned scowling at his sister. The girl, however, seemed to be following her brother’s tactic of considering everything the man said as inane, the white runes flaring into existence around her hands as she prepared to attack in her own fashion. But that was when the magic abruptly died, the spell abandoned as the man spoke.
“If you attack, he dies… I’m sorry, sister.”
“S-Sarah, get out of—“ he started, again, trying to tell her to run, and for his efforts he was greeted with more pain, his attacker slightly twisting the massive blade.
“Don’t talk to her.”
It was surreal. All of it. This twisted mimic of her brother, that barren place she had found herself lost in, the fact that her brother was—she could see the blood, the way the grass stained crimson, and she could not heal a wound while the cause of it was still lodged with him.
She sunk to her knees with a soft croak, the first stunned tears coming to her eyes before she abruptly twisted, clutching at the assailant’s shirt.
“P-Please, no, d-don’t—“
“It’s ironic, really. The reason I would like you to suffer is because you have somehow twisted her mind into believing you are me, but because of that same reason, I’ll have to kill you swiftly so as to not hurt her.” The man grated, the tone of his voice clearly suggesting that a brief death had not been in his plans. His hold on the handle tightened, and Sarah’s eyes jerked wide open, her magic abruptly flaring up again, realizing that, compliance or not, the man intended to kill—
He heard her scream, but it was cut off with a violent wrench of the blade, and everything went dark.

EW CRAPPY WRITING IS EW

Merry Christmas, dear. <3
I LOVE YOU GODDAMMET BUT ALL THIS WRITING JUST KILLED MY MIND AND I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING TO SAY KLJDFLFJ ;AAAAAAAA;

Had fun attempting foreshortening/perspective/atmosphere etc etc etc. LOOK IT'S NOT A SUNSET! 8D

Awesome people (c)