A massive tear in the fabric of the realm itself, almost unbelievable to the human eye, was before Damien. It was as if someone had torn a hole in a painting, but the painting was reality. The Creator loomed over Damien as he pulled himself from his fiery prison of death and clambered into the world of the living.
The flesh of what was once the holy and undeniable light which brought the realm to be was now rancid and rotten, peeling down to the bone, exposing both the muscles and bones that made up his immortal body. He stood at around 200 ft (60.96 metres), standing slumped in the remains of his carcass. Soon he would consume everyone the cultist order offered him. They would take over, plunging the world into their dark fantasy and ruling the realms as they wished, all starting with the little island that Damien had forever called his home.
The battle between the Golden Knights and the Cultists had come to an end and everything was at a standstill. The breath of The Creator blew through the air like a rancid and tropical wind, like a breeze in the Amazon amidst a murky swamp. All fell silent as both groups came to terms with what was in front of them, their fate, their death, and their salvation. Faces filled with horror and despair, whereas others were filled with a lustful greed and insane excitement for what was to come.
*SMASH*
Amidst the silence, a smash echoed throughout the crater, all heads turned in the direction of the glass impacting with the ground only to the treasured relic shattered across the ground.
Panic.
The sudden breach of silence not only sent the Golden Knights in a flurry, but with the relic destroyed, the cultists had no way of controlling the creator any more. To have just as doomed fate as the Golden Knights if they stayed. The Creator was free, free to carry out his revenge against all of humanity. He would destroy everything, he will destroy everything, and no one could stop him.
Damien sighs, “Well, not a thing lies ahead of me. Most would look at me and wish me dead. Guess now is time to grant them their wish.” Damien gave a slight chuckle, feeling that this was a rather reckless action to make as there was not much of a chance he would survive, nevertheless actually destroy The Creator. He unsheathed his sword and strode up to the looming corpse of the lost god.
Damien called upon his forbidden power once again, emitting an unsightly black-red glow he lunged at the Creator, slicing its leg open with due intent. The force of Damien, equal to the power the same size of The Creator, forced the creator down onto the ground. Weak after being reborn, The Creator flailed, his brain having almost fully decomposed after being dead for so long. All the Creator could do was grunt and groan and swing his massive, decomposing arms.
With the Creator on his knees, Damien ran up to make another attempt at stabbing the Creator, only to be batted a sheer distance from the creator’s propelling arms. Being launched into a Cliffside, Damien had caught the attention of some other half-demons, seeing his bravery and stupidity of fighting The Creator, they helped Damien to his feet and joined him in the battle.
The battle went on for what seemed like hours, the half-demons making attacks on the Creator, essentially distracting him from Damien so that he can deal the critical blows. But despite their efforts, the Creator started killing them slowly one by one with the hits they were taking from them. Damien was at a loss, seeing people like him, die due to his own stupid actions, he felt guilty. Suddenly, his arm started pulsating as if it were drawing power from The Creator, filling him with a sense of anger and threatening to glaze his eyes over with the blindness of rage. He resisted and followed where this feeling was eluding from. The back of the neck, jugular. The Creator’s neck was a hive for demon infection, and among the blistering and swollen flesh there was a single sword wound from where the jealous priests had murdered The Creator before. This was it, it was to end where it all started, and all he had to do was finish him with his sword.
Damien turned around to see both Naya and the Cultist Leader watching over him from quite close, the remnants of the Golden Knights hiding upon the yonder cliffs, cowards in their metal suits. Both people triggering something fierce within him. Damien slashes at The Creator’s neck, causing a harsh and unearthly howl to emit from the almost non-existent giant. Noticing that Damien had decided to take on the giant and looked to be winning, a few of the Golden Knights came to his aid, fighting alongside the demons and Damien.
And thanks to all the allies, the Creator collapsed as he had before to the hands of the jealous priests, but this time it was righteous. This time it was done not just by the had which he had made, but the curse that he had made to turn humanity and the afflicted against each other.
The Creator barely alive, Damien looks up again. Naya and the Cultist Leader had started a brawl, and while Naya was winning, it was evident that the Cultist Leader was holding back for something. Occasionally glancing over at Damien, eagerly awaiting what he would do.
His mind racing, why would he be anticipating something? There’s only one way that this is going, The Creator is essentially dead. All that was needed was a killing blow, and even without that, the zombie god would surely pass regardless.
Something almost instinctual hit, a burning rage from deep within, simmering, whispering, guiding with muscle memory-like actions. Calling for him to do something.
The demon part of me is not even me, I was cursed to be like this, and I’m about to kill the creator of the curse. It will control me, and be a burden to me no longer. I have a life to look forward to and someone I hope to live for. He will not control me. >>
No, he has something up his sleeve, I can’t risk it. Whatever this is, I need to take control of it and make sure that nothing hurts Naya. He’s the reason my parents died, why everyone scorns me, I’m making sure he’s dead as soon as I kill the Creator. I’m following this instinct. >>
Realms of Tanerila is a Choose Your Own Adventure story written 5 years ago by myself for my HNC Games Development course. I started well… then I wrote the rest in a couple of hours at 4am because the deadline was too long, and I forgot about it.
jinxlgamez
Doubtful Player 