Sight bled crimson tatters, as the night ran red. That was all that he could see, was red, red everywhere, and the grisly body superimposed upon his
vision. The killer, a grimdark and visceral sight, stood and faced him, but was etched in darkness and Jim could not make out any of the details, yet
somehow was aware that the killer was smiling wickedly beneath the dark cloak. This isnt happening, this cant be happening.
the thoughts ran on
repeat in Jims head, who was just minor accountant of some small firm, on his way home from a long night. He was nobody, he was FINE with being
nobody. He had always hated those hero books, the idea of adventures and magic. No, thank you, just give him the bland, cookie cutter life, please.
And he had gotten it. Never stood out, got a plain house, with a wife he loved simply, and who took care of their single child, a rather bland boy who
liked to eat crayons. Jim was content and didn't want anything more, he knew exactly where everything was, and his place in all of it. The world was,
thusly, a small place for him who had it all figured out. All of that shattered when the figure spoke, twin rivers of condescension and pity in a tone
of aggression. " Jim Morris. Here your life is forever changed, blood has altered the tide of your life, this the blood that I have spilt. I have done
this for you, as my lord has commanded me, though I know not why he would deign to make an offering to a pitiful one such as you." the being sniffed
with disdain for this world called earth, prey wasn't even fun here and the energy he harvested was barely even worth it. Not like Magnus Prime, where
the energy shot from a single murder gave a full charge.
The words marched against jim and shattered against his mind, fragmenting into tiny slivers that tore right through the cracks of his mind, releasing
the torrent of energy that Jim had walled back behind a sheer façade of dullness. The words the monster spoke- for jim knew it was a monster now- had
released a grand torrent. He was not Jim Morris, feeble accountant- he was apothis, destroyer of world, muncher of kitties, and where Jim had been
apalled by the sacrifice, Apophis knew only pleasure. The underling gasped and bowed in obeisance. "My lord! I did not mean-" but with a passing
thought, like one might show annoyance at a buzzing fly, he was gone. Apophis knelt at the body, and the blood gathered into a rising pool for this
the lord of blood. he drank, and knew himself once more, felt his power rise into its rightful place. His body struggled, wanting to transform into
the abomination that was he, but he restrained its growth, and eventually it subsided, after what looked like little shadowy spikes pushing out from
all over his body. He rose, and would assume the place of Jim Morris once more- only now, Jim would rise to conquer the world. The underling, whose
name was now forgotten to memory, had been utterly wrong. This world was not devoid. it was richer even than magnus prime. Only, this earth...it had
strange rules, that even ultimate powers such as he had to abide by. That was, in truth, what drew such powerful beings of dark and light to earth-
the fact that there was a game which they could not violate the rules suggested an even stronger force at work- and all, dark and light, hungered to
taste it. And besides, the power struggle game was fun, until things came to a head and all was revealed.
- for the purposes of this contest, at least.
edit on 5-10-2017 by LucidWarrior because: (no reason given)