Not Good Enough For A Fairy Tale Cliché

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Not Good Enough For A Fairy Tale Cliché

Post by Azarth/Tyzai on Wed Feb 17, 2010 7:30 am

"I'm not sure about this Ty, I'm really not." The voice was so close a whimper I thought he was a mouse for a second. "It's just an old tomb, nothing bad is going to happen." I swear, if this kid was anymore of a coward he'd have left a trail of piss for our parents. I'm not being grownded again, last time was a nightmare, and the beatings aren't pleasant. I could feel a tear come to my eye as I looked at my bandaged arm, but I had to ignore it and keep moving through the darkness of the crypt. I was almost there. "Ty, can't we go to the pond.. It's not scary at the pond.. What if the dead people get us?!" That echo of fear in his voice was almost cute, if not so pathetic. "Alright Ronald, think about it, there dead. Dead people don't 'get' little kids... The very notion of an aggresive living corpse is... Is obserd." I held back a grin to make the lie seem more convincing. Ronald would have left a brown trail if he knew why I'd brought him here. Now just a little further, he was lagging behind but I kept my own strides well just that, strides. I clambered down some steps into a small dark room, a single lit candle in the middle, something I prepared earlier. Cowardly Ronald entered minutes later as I was beginning to chalk the symbols I was told to draw on the stone floor. "Ronald, come stand here for me please?" I made the words sound warm and motherly, or tried to but it got him to move. Now for the magic words. Almost the second the spell left my lips Ronalds ugly, pastey skin began to flay from the bones. Ripping away in a blur of blood and magic. "Ty! Ty stop! I'm... I'm dyi-" Oh the delightful screaming of a six year old, makes my heart skip a beat. Atleast, this 'Necromancey' stuff works. That old hag was right, I should learn more. No, I -must- learn more. For now though, let the kid flay. "Haven't you heard Ronald? Dying is the latest fashion!"
She'd been screaming for two hours. Just screaming at the top of her lungs. Daddy liked to beat Mummy. Daddy liked to beat me. However, what Daddy liked most was to let my big brother West beat Mummy. Then beat me. The screaming downstairs had stopped, replaced by the sound of crying and foot steps, two pairs, heading to my room. Mummy got boring. The brutes needed something else to torment. The door of my small bedroom begin to open and it was then I felt the gentle stream of piss run down my leg. So humiliating how fast I began to cry and whimper. They'd only just entered the room for blights sake! Everything swelled, my heart, my eyes heck even my knees shook and ached. "Hello lil' Runt. You worked hard today?" Don't Daddy.. Daddy don't you know I don't work. .You know I can't work! "No. Of course you haven't because your a pathetic little girl arn't you Tyler?" Don't call me a girl Daddy please! Please I'm trying! I'm trying you don't need to beat me! Oh how I wish I even had the courage to beg, but no.. I just whimpered in fear of my looming father. "Whats this Tyler? Anouther book?" I'd not notice him move to my night-stand.. He'd picked up the Tome.. The one she gave me. "When are you going to stop being such a little girl and stop reading? Do some hard work for once?" He'd put the Tome down without looking in it. Good. "Maybe.. Just maybe we can get you to see sense? Right Westy?" West? Damnit he was in the room wasn't he! Almost on que, the moment I looked up to find my brother, his fist slammed into my face. The nightly beating had begun.
The story's kind of segmented because I posted it in a few short doses.. Just treat them like flashbacks.

First was the Brother. "Your going to bleed West! You will pay for every moment of agony you've caused me! Oh yes. There will be blood. There -will- be blood!" It was time, finally my family would suffer. My shaking hands clenched the chain tighter. The device I was using to kill my brother West was a personal favorite of The Witch, who had taught me how to get my revenge. Essentially, when I pulled this chain, the device would rib West's ribcage open, splitting all of his front ribs and pulling them out of his chest. "Sweet Tyler, we must leave soon. I know how much this moment means to you but we can't stay long. Your father will be back soon." The Witch was right. There was little time for speeches. So I wrapped the chain around my hands, before pulling as hard as I could... Second came the Mother. "I loved you Tyler, I loved you more then anything! Can't you see what your doing is wrong?!-" "Silence Mother! If you loved me you'd have never let him do those things! This is for all the neglect! All the times you begged them to beat me instead of you!" She merely whimpered in reply, guilt staining her face. I was alone with the mother who started my tragic existance, The Witch had left to find my father. I drew the kitchen knife from my belt, grinning as my mother squirmed in the haunting grasp of Necromancey. "Let's see if I can get a tune out of this wench!" I smashed the knife into her thigh, then her chest, then her shoulder. Stabbing all over her body, my mind blinded with rage as I kept jamming the knife into my mothers flesh. The room filled wtih the stench of blood and bile acid as my mother choked out her last whimpers of pain... Finally the Father. I wish I could write an account on what I did to my father. I really do. However the madness I fell to that moment clouds my memory. I don't remember exacly what happened, but I remember shattered shoulder-blades... No idea why. Once all are dead, One is free to live.
My life from eight to nineteen was relatively dull. Well, not dull but repeatative. I grew up in tombs and Scholomance, practising my Necromancey, eating rats and the occasional grub. You know, the usual routine for someone like me. I'd also got rid of my filthy family name. I was no longer the cowardly child 'Tyler Devine'. No, I am something much more. I am Tyzai Revain. Now, it was just after my nineteenth birthday and I was roaming the halls of Scholomance, looking for my Tutor. The moment my hand touched the door handle to his office, I heard arguing, and around here, you don't enter a room with angry people, so I merely placed my ear against the door. Listening. "Are you absolutely certain Lich?" The voice was of my Tutor, slightly agitated but more afraid then anything else. "Oh I'm very sure, the boy just needs more training." Hollow words from a hollow creature. It was the Lich Ras Frostwhisper, his tone so cold it alone made me shiver. "I've taught him everything I know. Besides.. The Ritual is dangerous, what if he's not as powerful as you think he is?" "Then he'll be raised as whatever I see fit. And you will not question my judgement." "I don't mean to Lord Frostwhisper-" "Good. Now, prepare the child for the anguish he will endure then send him to my Lab." "If your certain it's the right thing to do." "I am." "Very well.. If all goes well he will rise like you did?" "Tyzai will be tested. We can only hope he passes, I hate making good Necromancers into Geists." It was then my body froze, they were going to perform the Lich's Ascension on me? "What are the odds he'll pass?" My Tutors voice seemed to twinge with worry and doubt. "Very slim. But on the bright side.. It's one less annoying child around here." Very slim? No... No I won't become anouther pointless face on an abomination. I won't suffer the torment of undeath. So I ran. I ran a second time. Running away from all my problems... It's what I did before and now I do it again. Eventually, after around a year of lost traveling, I found the City of Stormwind... Anouther place I'd soon be running from.

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Join date : 2010-02-09

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Re: Not Good Enough For A Fairy Tale Cliché

Post by Nayan on Fri Feb 19, 2010 3:20 am

Only remember reading the first part, loved it then, love it now. Reading the rest really gives out the twisted mind of Ty. Lovely atmosphere, cheers ^^

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Age : 35
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Name: Nayan of the Frostmanes
Title: Primal of Bethekk

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