Midnight Philosophy, with Dr James
(AKA: Ace attempts to write horror)
(18+. For various reasons)
As the rest of the party was getting fucked in the ass by a giant tentacle monster, James spent his time caring for his prisoner. With the needlework of an expert surgeon, the cleric stitched the necroalchamist’s arm back on, though of course, he was sure not to forget to fasten it with rope as well, in order to keep the man perfectly bound. In addition, with the care of an expert dentist, James propped the man’s mouth over with a nearby chuck of cinderblock, and promptly removed the many _many_ cartoonishly many susiside pills that the necro-alchemist had kept hidden in his teeth. And despite his previous deminor, and the sounds of deadly battle in the background, James kept up a smile as he worked the man’s mouth.
“28, 29....30!” counted James, the dentist. “Every single one! My my my, you necroalchamists are an _exciteing_ sort aren't you? Bet you'd never encounter a graduate of the Adeptus Orthodontus school out in the field, did you?” The necro-alchemist could only offer a weak wiggle in response. “Are aor ought aonna ill ee?” he responded, in a somewhat distressing tone.
James removed the chuck of building material from the man’s mouth, as he maintained his professional, though perhaps eerie, demeanor. “What was that?” he spoke, raising his left hand up to his ear, like a doctor addressing a eldery parent. “Couldn't quite hear you.”
“Kill me.” answered the necro alchemist. “I don’t know what the hell you want anymore.....I don’t know how the golem works, I just launch the damn things! It’s literally just a big button. I don’t know how they work!”
“Well that's a shame,” spoke James, kneeling down to the bound necro-alchemist. Down to his patient. “Because that means it’s going to come back. And it’s going to _fuck_ us. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly enjoy getting my asshole fucked. No judgement, of course.”
“Well that sucks.” spoke the necro-alchemist. “But there's nothing I can do about it. So just kill me, and get it over with!” “Indeed, it does, spoke James. “Indeed it does. So it seems I will be killing you today. A shame.” The necro-alchemist felt James slide a hand down the back of his clothing, and give him a pat on the back. “A shame a shame a shame,” the cleric continued, his hand reaching down further, and further the necro-alchemist clothing, as the alchemist felt magic escape out of the cleric’s hand, like a small, minatured wind, with waves of it hitting, and getting absorbed by his flesh. All the while, the cleric simply looked at him. With the friendliest face in the world.
The alchemist was skilled enough in spellcraft to recognize magic when he felt one.“The hell..what you casting?” spoke the necro-alchemist. “I said kill me!” James met his glance. “Oh and I will, don’t worry. But why do we need to hurry things along?” The necro-alchemist began to sweat as the cleric produced a dagger, and began to bring it down The necro-alchemist closed his eyes as the cleric _slowly_ brought the dagger down upon him. This was it. He was finally done with this crazy man.
The necro alchemist kept his eyes closed...and closed, but...nothing happened. He felt..nothing. No pinprick. No stabbing. Not even the slightest bit of pain. He breathed in, and breathed out. Was the cleric simply holding the dagger an inch from his flesh, waiting for him to open his eyes? He might be. He did seem crazy, after all. The necro alchemist counted to himself, mentaly. Nothing was happening. Literally, nothing was happening. He didn’t feel any wind. He didn’t feel the clerics breathing. In fact, he could hardly feel the ground beneath him. This worried him. And so, the necro-alchemist slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was that he was naked. Stripped bare, his manhood for the world to see. This was embarrassing. Was this man gay? Was he about to get raped before he died? What a horrible way to go. The necro alchemist almost closed his eyes in disgust, when he saw the second thing. The coil of wire that had been used to tie up his legs....it was just laying there! On the ground Next to this...stone slab of brick he had been laid out on. He was free. He could escape! But....as his mind ordered his legs to move, he noticed the thing third. Holes. About the size of a child’s fist. Cleanly incision into the top of his legs. And through them....he...he saw the stone slab! It was as if he was made of puddy, and a section of his legs had been..scooped out. The necro-alchemist's eyes went wide, and his arms remained tightly bound to an unseen prop. And then he saw him. The cleric. As he walked into view. Holding...something. It looked to be a large, uncooked steak. Or chicken. Except it was a lot bigger. And bloodier.....
“These are your quadriceps!” spoke the mad cleric, joyfully. “Your thigh and your calf! There is the strongest, and leanest muscle in your entire body! They're the ones that do all the “Heavy lifting” when you walk, and are connected to the main nerves that send the signals from your brain! Without these...your legs might as well be pancakes. The heart of the necro alchemist skipped a beat as he saw the cleric take his tongue to the still-bloody muzzle, and give it a nice look over, as one might do to a piece of uncooked meat, before setting it down on another nearby cinder block, as the quadriceps still leaked blood. “Ha..how?” spoke the alchemist, incredulously. “How did you....I didn’t feel a thing! How could you have possa-”
“Delay Pain.” spoke the cleric. “Or, a variant of it. Learned it a while back in medical school. “It’s essentially a full body anaesthetic. And it lasts for nearly a day! And while it’s active? You, my friend, won’t feel a thing.” The cleric withdrew his now-bloody dagger, and, using it like a scalpel, made a small cut in the man's chest. True to his word, as blood began to trickle out of the man’s chest, he couldn't feel a thing. Almost as if he was watching someone else’s body on a scrying spell. “Not....A.....thing.” spoke the cleric, making small stabs, one after another, each stab purposely missing any vital organs inside the necro-alchemist, and each stab, going lower, and lower. Chest went to stomach. Stomach went to my waist. And waist went to the groin, the cleric’s bloody dagger landing upon the alchemist's penis, it’s metal blade rubbing alongside it, without drawing blood, and staining the man’s organ red with his own blood.
“So you're a cannibal then?” spoke the alchemist, fear in his voice. “You....your one of those Village Cannibals, right? Who...capture and eat other humans!” a small smile crept across the necro-alchemist's face at the absolute incredulousness of the situation. “And you call me a monster! You're far worse than me, friend!”
“I’m afraid not.” spoke the cleric. “For I view cannibalism through the same abhorrent lens that you do. They are monsters. They forfeit their humanity in the name of basic survival. I do not plan to eat you. Were I starving, I would not eat you. To do so would lower me down to the level of one such as yourself. “A monster.” “You're calling me a monster?” spoke the alchemist. “ “Your such a hypocrite! I’m tied up, asshole. You're the one who cut out my organs and are playing with my dick.”
Despite not feeling pain, The necro alchemist let out a loud cry of shock as his penis came flying off his body, cut with swift, surgical precision, that would make a normal man assume the use of a haste spell. “Not playing.” spoke the cleric, as the alchemist starred in shock. “Removing it. To prevent people like you from existing. And reproducing! “What the fuck is your problem?!” cried the castrated alchemist. “You talk high and mighty, but all I did was push a fucking button! You tied me up, and cut my dick off!”
The alchemist gave a cocky grin of success, but as he looked towards the cleric, he saw that his captor had shifted from friendly; to a much more serious demeanor, as he riverced the grip on his bloody dagger, and stabbed the man in the testicles. The alchemist reflexively looked away as he heard an audible _cruch_ sound, and his eyes went wide with what little pain he could feel. As he did so, the cleric moved over to the alchemist's head, and , grabbing him by the hair, pushed his head back, and held his knife to the alchemist's throat. “Listen here, fucker.” the cleric stated. “I’m a monster. Your right. But so is everyone else on this dogshit of a plane!”
“You tell me one, single person, you know of on this plane who’s virtuous. One, single person. I’ll give you time.” The necro alchemist twitched at the unexpected question. “Tell me someone you know who’s kind. Someone who’s modest. Someone who doesn't _fuck_ at the drop of a hat. Or just someone who’s not selfish. Someone, ANYONE, who gives a shit about the wider world.
“Uhhh....” spoke the necro alchemist, his mind stunned by the sudden change in direction this conversation had gone. “Uhhhh....I don’t know?”
“Well I can give you three.” spoke James, releasing his grip on the man’s hair. “Avacyn. Before she went crazy, that is. Back when the church was benevolent. And actually helped people. Before it became a rotting corpse. And began destroying everything we'd built up!
“Your....you're with the church of Avacyn?” spoke the alchemist, confused. “But, why, I don’t understand....?” “The other would be my wife,” continued the cleric, turning away from his patent for a moment.. “ Dura. The love of my life. And the son she bore for me. Oritar.” The alchemist saw a tear descend down the side of the cleric’s armor. “Before both were violently taken from me before my very eyes by the _very insitition_ I have defended my entire life!” The necro-alchemist gave a facefull of sorrow, hoping that perhaps empathy might get him out of his current predicament. “I’m...I’m sorry to hear that, I....”
“I saw their bodys.” continued the cleric. “ Lifeless, on the ground. Their blood soaking into the city streets. Denied the Blessed Sleep.” He paused. “And it was on that day, that I realized something. “
The cleric turned back towards the alchemist. “What did you realize?” asked the alchemist, curious. “I realized......” answered the cleric. “I relised that we have been subjecting people to untold eons of torture.”
“What?” asked the alchemist, confused. The cleric regained his demeanor. “Do you know what happens to humans when they die in Innistrad? Just....out in the open. With nobody there to protect them.” “Of course.” answered the alchemist, matter-of-factly. “They become zombies. Due to the Black energy circulating through the plane.” “And do you know what the Blessed Sleep incantation does?” asked the cleric, to whom the alchemist once again answered. “It..prevents that, somehow, I assume.”
“Indeed.” spoke the cleric. “When I incant the blessed sleep, the soul remains in the body. Unable to be affected by black magic. But also, unable to pass on. Not alive...but not quite dead either.”
The alchemist was astonished. He had heard rumors that explaining the details of the Blessed Sleep was punishable by death. “It’s just zombies of a different sense, really.” spoke the cleric. “The soul remains inside the body, but unable to escape. Like sleeping with your eyes open. Aware, but not able to do a thing about it.”
The cleric removed his goulet and brought down two fingers towards the alchemists eyes. In fear, the alchemist closed them, fearing for the worse, but instead, the cleric simply lightly held his eyelids down. “This is the Blessed Sleep.” he spoke. “But without the hearing. Unable to move your arms. Move your hands. You cannot see. You cannot hear. Unable to speak. Unable to scream. Just...awareness. Forever.”
“By Avacyn!” the alchemist spoke, as the cleric removed his fingers. “That sounds horrible! Worse than death, even!” The cleric nodded. “It was different under Avacyn, of course.” he spoke. Back when we were not killing each other over doctrine. There was even talk of sending the dead to another plane, or evacuating Innistrad entirely” The alchemist frowned in confusion. “But that'd be impossible.... Unless...”
The cleric snapped his fingers, and he was gone, cutting the tied-up alchemist off mid conversation. Once the initial shock wore off, the alchemist turned his head around, and began widely searching for his missing captor. But not finding anything. Shocked and confused at this turn of events, the alchemist considered yelling for help, but remembered that the cleric’s companions were right nearby. Doing Avacyn-knows what. It sounded like the sounds of combat had stopped, at the very least. He weighed his options. He was still covered in blood. Still, his mind was dominated with where exactly his captor had gone off too. As to answer his questions, a flash of mana suddenly appeared to the left. A rainbow of colors, though mostly White and Black mana, with a hint of blue. And suddenly, they stood the cleric once again. The alchemist was filled with questions, though as they began to filter through his mind, they came to buy a single conclusion.
“Your....a planeswalker....” the alchemist spoke softly. “From the legends. You’ve....you’ve been off Innistrad!” “Indeed.” spoke the cleric. “It’s one of the things that’s kept me sane. Away from all the nightmarish monsters. And other such bloodshed. I’ve seen things you shouldn't believe.I've seen paradise. I’ve seen places where humans can live in PEACE. In harmony. Places we can evacuate too! And not fear for our lives everyday! The clergy was even preparing to announce an evacuation campaign AWAY from Innistrad.....when everything suddenly turned to shit. “
“I....that sounds wonderful!” spoke the alchemist. “But I still don’t understand.” “And I don’t expect you to.” answered the cleric. “Truth be told, humanity...my fellow humans, those of us still on Innistrad, have lost their way. We fight. We battle. We kill each other in reckless rage. (the cleric pointed an accusatory figure at the necro alchemist) “We build weapons of mass destruction without any way to disable them!” “And you tie people up, and cut their dicks off!” spoke the alchemist in protest. “You talk all high and mighty about saving humanity, but you're no better than me, or anyone else out there. You're just as much of a monster as I am!” “The difference between you and I.” spoke the cleric. “Is that what I know? I do what I do to bring humanity closer to it’s destined goal! To not be forced to survive like mear beasts, but to live, nay, THRIVE in a world! “Is that so?” spoke the alchemist, unimpressed.” “I want you to imagine this,” spoke the cleric. “Imagine thousands upon thousands of angelic beings. Reminiscent of Avacyn in her prime. All united in a peaceful world. An inter-planear federation. Where all individuals have obtained their own, objective perfection.Without war, nore political turbulence. Everyone laying nude upon a beautiful beach, revealing in the pure ecstasy that is human life. With really fucking good hair. That is what I want for mankind. To turn us all into an entire species of Avacyn.”
“Well all that sounds like EXTREMELY wishful thinking” spoke the alchemist.” “No” answered the cleric. “The potential exists.” “Well if that's the case.” spoke the alchemist, now thinking. “Why did you tie me up and start stabbing me? If you have such lofty goals for humanity?”
The cleric brought his still-ghaulted hand down upon the alchemists thought, upon his windpipe....and constructed. ““Because,” he spoke, as the alchemist immediately began to panic. “You are not human. Anyone who involves themselves in the construction, and use of Scabs is nonehuman. You forfeited your humanity when you treated human lifes as carelessly as you did.”
The alchemist's movements were getting desperate now, but the cleric could feel the alchemist's eyes piercing him. Unable to breath, the alchemist mouthed out the words “Hypocrite.” as the cleric strangled him. “Your right on that count.” he spoke, to the man he was strangling. “I’m not human either. There isn’t a place for me in the world I’m building. It is the great irony, of the Parish Blades.Trained to kill to achieve a victory of peace that we can then be no part of.”
The alchemist stopped struggling. The cleric kept his hand upon the man’s windpipe for half a minute more, then released. He untied the corpse from the stone slab, and laid the corpse upon the ground, before snapping a different figure, and lighting the body alight. Human or not, he would not leave an enemy laying there like a slab of meat. Nor would he willingly allow a zombie to raise. James knew that without the blessed sleep, the man’s mind would be lost. His soul sucked into the void beyond. But for James? It was better that way.
James cleaned up his tools and dress and went to rejoin the rest of his companions. He was growing to enjoy their company. Even if he didn’t have much to show for it. He even considered a few of them human. :)
(18+. For various reasons)
As the rest of the party was getting fucked in the ass by a giant tentacle monster, James spent his time caring for his prisoner. With the needlework of an expert surgeon, the cleric stitched the necroalchamist’s arm back on, though of course, he was sure not to forget to fasten it with rope as well, in order to keep the man perfectly bound. In addition, with the care of an expert dentist, James propped the man’s mouth over with a nearby chuck of cinderblock, and promptly removed the many _many_ cartoonishly many susiside pills that the necro-alchemist had kept hidden in his teeth. And despite his previous deminor, and the sounds of deadly battle in the background, James kept up a smile as he worked the man’s mouth.
“28, 29....30!” counted James, the dentist. “Every single one! My my my, you necroalchamists are an _exciteing_ sort aren't you? Bet you'd never encounter a graduate of the Adeptus Orthodontus school out in the field, did you?” The necro-alchemist could only offer a weak wiggle in response. “Are aor ought aonna ill ee?” he responded, in a somewhat distressing tone.
James removed the chuck of building material from the man’s mouth, as he maintained his professional, though perhaps eerie, demeanor. “What was that?” he spoke, raising his left hand up to his ear, like a doctor addressing a eldery parent. “Couldn't quite hear you.”
“Kill me.” answered the necro alchemist. “I don’t know what the hell you want anymore.....I don’t know how the golem works, I just launch the damn things! It’s literally just a big button. I don’t know how they work!”
“Well that's a shame,” spoke James, kneeling down to the bound necro-alchemist. Down to his patient. “Because that means it’s going to come back. And it’s going to _fuck_ us. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly enjoy getting my asshole fucked. No judgement, of course.”
“Well that sucks.” spoke the necro-alchemist. “But there's nothing I can do about it. So just kill me, and get it over with!” “Indeed, it does, spoke James. “Indeed it does. So it seems I will be killing you today. A shame.” The necro-alchemist felt James slide a hand down the back of his clothing, and give him a pat on the back. “A shame a shame a shame,” the cleric continued, his hand reaching down further, and further the necro-alchemist clothing, as the alchemist felt magic escape out of the cleric’s hand, like a small, minatured wind, with waves of it hitting, and getting absorbed by his flesh. All the while, the cleric simply looked at him. With the friendliest face in the world.
The alchemist was skilled enough in spellcraft to recognize magic when he felt one.“The hell..what you casting?” spoke the necro-alchemist. “I said kill me!” James met his glance. “Oh and I will, don’t worry. But why do we need to hurry things along?” The necro-alchemist began to sweat as the cleric produced a dagger, and began to bring it down The necro-alchemist closed his eyes as the cleric _slowly_ brought the dagger down upon him. This was it. He was finally done with this crazy man.
The necro alchemist kept his eyes closed...and closed, but...nothing happened. He felt..nothing. No pinprick. No stabbing. Not even the slightest bit of pain. He breathed in, and breathed out. Was the cleric simply holding the dagger an inch from his flesh, waiting for him to open his eyes? He might be. He did seem crazy, after all. The necro alchemist counted to himself, mentaly. Nothing was happening. Literally, nothing was happening. He didn’t feel any wind. He didn’t feel the clerics breathing. In fact, he could hardly feel the ground beneath him. This worried him. And so, the necro-alchemist slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he noticed was that he was naked. Stripped bare, his manhood for the world to see. This was embarrassing. Was this man gay? Was he about to get raped before he died? What a horrible way to go. The necro alchemist almost closed his eyes in disgust, when he saw the second thing. The coil of wire that had been used to tie up his legs....it was just laying there! On the ground Next to this...stone slab of brick he had been laid out on. He was free. He could escape! But....as his mind ordered his legs to move, he noticed the thing third. Holes. About the size of a child’s fist. Cleanly incision into the top of his legs. And through them....he...he saw the stone slab! It was as if he was made of puddy, and a section of his legs had been..scooped out. The necro-alchemist's eyes went wide, and his arms remained tightly bound to an unseen prop. And then he saw him. The cleric. As he walked into view. Holding...something. It looked to be a large, uncooked steak. Or chicken. Except it was a lot bigger. And bloodier.....
“These are your quadriceps!” spoke the mad cleric, joyfully. “Your thigh and your calf! There is the strongest, and leanest muscle in your entire body! They're the ones that do all the “Heavy lifting” when you walk, and are connected to the main nerves that send the signals from your brain! Without these...your legs might as well be pancakes. The heart of the necro alchemist skipped a beat as he saw the cleric take his tongue to the still-bloody muzzle, and give it a nice look over, as one might do to a piece of uncooked meat, before setting it down on another nearby cinder block, as the quadriceps still leaked blood. “Ha..how?” spoke the alchemist, incredulously. “How did you....I didn’t feel a thing! How could you have possa-”
“Delay Pain.” spoke the cleric. “Or, a variant of it. Learned it a while back in medical school. “It’s essentially a full body anaesthetic. And it lasts for nearly a day! And while it’s active? You, my friend, won’t feel a thing.” The cleric withdrew his now-bloody dagger, and, using it like a scalpel, made a small cut in the man's chest. True to his word, as blood began to trickle out of the man’s chest, he couldn't feel a thing. Almost as if he was watching someone else’s body on a scrying spell. “Not....A.....thing.” spoke the cleric, making small stabs, one after another, each stab purposely missing any vital organs inside the necro-alchemist, and each stab, going lower, and lower. Chest went to stomach. Stomach went to my waist. And waist went to the groin, the cleric’s bloody dagger landing upon the alchemist's penis, it’s metal blade rubbing alongside it, without drawing blood, and staining the man’s organ red with his own blood.
“So you're a cannibal then?” spoke the alchemist, fear in his voice. “You....your one of those Village Cannibals, right? Who...capture and eat other humans!” a small smile crept across the necro-alchemist's face at the absolute incredulousness of the situation. “And you call me a monster! You're far worse than me, friend!”
“I’m afraid not.” spoke the cleric. “For I view cannibalism through the same abhorrent lens that you do. They are monsters. They forfeit their humanity in the name of basic survival. I do not plan to eat you. Were I starving, I would not eat you. To do so would lower me down to the level of one such as yourself. “A monster.” “You're calling me a monster?” spoke the alchemist. “ “Your such a hypocrite! I’m tied up, asshole. You're the one who cut out my organs and are playing with my dick.”
Despite not feeling pain, The necro alchemist let out a loud cry of shock as his penis came flying off his body, cut with swift, surgical precision, that would make a normal man assume the use of a haste spell. “Not playing.” spoke the cleric, as the alchemist starred in shock. “Removing it. To prevent people like you from existing. And reproducing! “What the fuck is your problem?!” cried the castrated alchemist. “You talk high and mighty, but all I did was push a fucking button! You tied me up, and cut my dick off!”
The alchemist gave a cocky grin of success, but as he looked towards the cleric, he saw that his captor had shifted from friendly; to a much more serious demeanor, as he riverced the grip on his bloody dagger, and stabbed the man in the testicles. The alchemist reflexively looked away as he heard an audible _cruch_ sound, and his eyes went wide with what little pain he could feel. As he did so, the cleric moved over to the alchemist's head, and , grabbing him by the hair, pushed his head back, and held his knife to the alchemist's throat. “Listen here, fucker.” the cleric stated. “I’m a monster. Your right. But so is everyone else on this dogshit of a plane!”
“You tell me one, single person, you know of on this plane who’s virtuous. One, single person. I’ll give you time.” The necro alchemist twitched at the unexpected question. “Tell me someone you know who’s kind. Someone who’s modest. Someone who doesn't _fuck_ at the drop of a hat. Or just someone who’s not selfish. Someone, ANYONE, who gives a shit about the wider world.
“Uhhh....” spoke the necro alchemist, his mind stunned by the sudden change in direction this conversation had gone. “Uhhhh....I don’t know?”
“Well I can give you three.” spoke James, releasing his grip on the man’s hair. “Avacyn. Before she went crazy, that is. Back when the church was benevolent. And actually helped people. Before it became a rotting corpse. And began destroying everything we'd built up!
“Your....you're with the church of Avacyn?” spoke the alchemist, confused. “But, why, I don’t understand....?” “The other would be my wife,” continued the cleric, turning away from his patent for a moment.. “ Dura. The love of my life. And the son she bore for me. Oritar.” The alchemist saw a tear descend down the side of the cleric’s armor. “Before both were violently taken from me before my very eyes by the _very insitition_ I have defended my entire life!” The necro-alchemist gave a facefull of sorrow, hoping that perhaps empathy might get him out of his current predicament. “I’m...I’m sorry to hear that, I....”
“I saw their bodys.” continued the cleric. “ Lifeless, on the ground. Their blood soaking into the city streets. Denied the Blessed Sleep.” He paused. “And it was on that day, that I realized something. “
The cleric turned back towards the alchemist. “What did you realize?” asked the alchemist, curious. “I realized......” answered the cleric. “I relised that we have been subjecting people to untold eons of torture.”
“What?” asked the alchemist, confused. The cleric regained his demeanor. “Do you know what happens to humans when they die in Innistrad? Just....out in the open. With nobody there to protect them.” “Of course.” answered the alchemist, matter-of-factly. “They become zombies. Due to the Black energy circulating through the plane.” “And do you know what the Blessed Sleep incantation does?” asked the cleric, to whom the alchemist once again answered. “It..prevents that, somehow, I assume.”
“Indeed.” spoke the cleric. “When I incant the blessed sleep, the soul remains in the body. Unable to be affected by black magic. But also, unable to pass on. Not alive...but not quite dead either.”
The alchemist was astonished. He had heard rumors that explaining the details of the Blessed Sleep was punishable by death. “It’s just zombies of a different sense, really.” spoke the cleric. “The soul remains inside the body, but unable to escape. Like sleeping with your eyes open. Aware, but not able to do a thing about it.”
The cleric removed his goulet and brought down two fingers towards the alchemists eyes. In fear, the alchemist closed them, fearing for the worse, but instead, the cleric simply lightly held his eyelids down. “This is the Blessed Sleep.” he spoke. “But without the hearing. Unable to move your arms. Move your hands. You cannot see. You cannot hear. Unable to speak. Unable to scream. Just...awareness. Forever.”
“By Avacyn!” the alchemist spoke, as the cleric removed his fingers. “That sounds horrible! Worse than death, even!” The cleric nodded. “It was different under Avacyn, of course.” he spoke. Back when we were not killing each other over doctrine. There was even talk of sending the dead to another plane, or evacuating Innistrad entirely” The alchemist frowned in confusion. “But that'd be impossible.... Unless...”
The cleric snapped his fingers, and he was gone, cutting the tied-up alchemist off mid conversation. Once the initial shock wore off, the alchemist turned his head around, and began widely searching for his missing captor. But not finding anything. Shocked and confused at this turn of events, the alchemist considered yelling for help, but remembered that the cleric’s companions were right nearby. Doing Avacyn-knows what. It sounded like the sounds of combat had stopped, at the very least. He weighed his options. He was still covered in blood. Still, his mind was dominated with where exactly his captor had gone off too. As to answer his questions, a flash of mana suddenly appeared to the left. A rainbow of colors, though mostly White and Black mana, with a hint of blue. And suddenly, they stood the cleric once again. The alchemist was filled with questions, though as they began to filter through his mind, they came to buy a single conclusion.
“Your....a planeswalker....” the alchemist spoke softly. “From the legends. You’ve....you’ve been off Innistrad!” “Indeed.” spoke the cleric. “It’s one of the things that’s kept me sane. Away from all the nightmarish monsters. And other such bloodshed. I’ve seen things you shouldn't believe.I've seen paradise. I’ve seen places where humans can live in PEACE. In harmony. Places we can evacuate too! And not fear for our lives everyday! The clergy was even preparing to announce an evacuation campaign AWAY from Innistrad.....when everything suddenly turned to shit. “
“I....that sounds wonderful!” spoke the alchemist. “But I still don’t understand.” “And I don’t expect you to.” answered the cleric. “Truth be told, humanity...my fellow humans, those of us still on Innistrad, have lost their way. We fight. We battle. We kill each other in reckless rage. (the cleric pointed an accusatory figure at the necro alchemist) “We build weapons of mass destruction without any way to disable them!” “And you tie people up, and cut their dicks off!” spoke the alchemist in protest. “You talk all high and mighty about saving humanity, but you're no better than me, or anyone else out there. You're just as much of a monster as I am!” “The difference between you and I.” spoke the cleric. “Is that what I know? I do what I do to bring humanity closer to it’s destined goal! To not be forced to survive like mear beasts, but to live, nay, THRIVE in a world! “Is that so?” spoke the alchemist, unimpressed.” “I want you to imagine this,” spoke the cleric. “Imagine thousands upon thousands of angelic beings. Reminiscent of Avacyn in her prime. All united in a peaceful world. An inter-planear federation. Where all individuals have obtained their own, objective perfection.Without war, nore political turbulence. Everyone laying nude upon a beautiful beach, revealing in the pure ecstasy that is human life. With really fucking good hair. That is what I want for mankind. To turn us all into an entire species of Avacyn.”
“Well all that sounds like EXTREMELY wishful thinking” spoke the alchemist.” “No” answered the cleric. “The potential exists.” “Well if that's the case.” spoke the alchemist, now thinking. “Why did you tie me up and start stabbing me? If you have such lofty goals for humanity?”
The cleric brought his still-ghaulted hand down upon the alchemists thought, upon his windpipe....and constructed. ““Because,” he spoke, as the alchemist immediately began to panic. “You are not human. Anyone who involves themselves in the construction, and use of Scabs is nonehuman. You forfeited your humanity when you treated human lifes as carelessly as you did.”
The alchemist's movements were getting desperate now, but the cleric could feel the alchemist's eyes piercing him. Unable to breath, the alchemist mouthed out the words “Hypocrite.” as the cleric strangled him. “Your right on that count.” he spoke, to the man he was strangling. “I’m not human either. There isn’t a place for me in the world I’m building. It is the great irony, of the Parish Blades.Trained to kill to achieve a victory of peace that we can then be no part of.”
The alchemist stopped struggling. The cleric kept his hand upon the man’s windpipe for half a minute more, then released. He untied the corpse from the stone slab, and laid the corpse upon the ground, before snapping a different figure, and lighting the body alight. Human or not, he would not leave an enemy laying there like a slab of meat. Nor would he willingly allow a zombie to raise. James knew that without the blessed sleep, the man’s mind would be lost. His soul sucked into the void beyond. But for James? It was better that way.
James cleaned up his tools and dress and went to rejoin the rest of his companions. He was growing to enjoy their company. Even if he didn’t have much to show for it. He even considered a few of them human. :)
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