Heretical Thoughts, Blasphemous Acts (multipart) [Dark!]

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Ace
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Heretical Thoughts, Blasphemous Acts (multipart) [Dark!]

Post by Ace » Fri Jun 08, 2007 7:40 am

Another slowly but surely added on story... Also this one is pretty... well dark and gruesome.... so don't read further if there's going to be any issues.

---

Pangs of pain nipped at Dalshaan's mind. The Dominus, his father, was displeased.

The whimpered sounds of the females overwhelmed the ears of the young Zuul, the protege of Xerserion the Unfettered. Dalshaan's eldest mate lay on the ground, her mind torn asunder and her infants awakening and burrowing into her flesh.

Take his children... to the wilds. They will live or die by the grace of the Gods, Xerserion commanded.

Two imposing females approached, their bodies covered in fine embriodered cloth, and carried the carcass out of the room.

Xerserion peered deeply into Dalshaan's soul, The unclean are not to be seen, not during our Communion with the Masters.

The young Zuul cowered.

Though they are a part of you, they are not you. They are mother, a tool, they are nothing. Her death was a lesson. You became attached to her, depended on her. But she is an extension of your will. NOTHING MORE.

The final words were burned into Dalshaan's mind. He knew that his father could easily overwhelm his psychic defenses and destroy his mind, but he did not know how little effort it would take for the Dominus until then.

I sense you have projected certain... qualities... to your females where none exist. Where such thoughts have come from... I am certain I know...

Dalshaan knelt before his father, I do only as you ask... I probe the mind of the slave for secrets.

You proceed too slowly, you play with the animal as if it will give you more information if you let it live. It knows that it will die, it has tried to take its life before. Crush its will! Break its mind! Xerserion's thoughts boomed.

The young male objected, If I do that, we may lose what little information the human has learned about the Gods...

Xerserion was simultaneously irritated and pleased. His son had continued to show defiance and a willingness to remain with a goal. However, his soul did not feel the unconditional love of the Masters. He thirsted for knowledge for its own sake, not for theirs, and he knew that the ape teased him with such knowledge to preserve its own life out of the hope of escape.

But one thing was true, a kernel of divine knowledge was locked in the mind of this human. His son was playing a part in the Masters' plan.

The slave will be permitted to live for the time being. But if you continue to disappoint me, I will end its life.

Thank you... father, Dalshaan responded with genuine gratitude. The young Zuul looked to the ground where his first mate died. Killed by his father. A lesson.

* * *

The room was barren, its iron walls featureless save for a single slit from which no light came through. There were sounds, voices, but none were true sounds as they were of the mind.

A single person was in it, huddled in a corner. He did not know how he entered. He rubbed his arms and legs, wilted by chains. He rubbed his neck where he failed to take his own life. Now he was alone save for when a true sound was heard, a sound followed by the smell of raw flesh, and food appeared.

It was that time again, when his stomach rumbled. He heard a scratching sound and smelled something both putrid and salty. He shuffled over to the slit, and felt meat. He tore at it with his mouth. It was different, not as tough as the meat he ate before and more salty. It tasted somewhat like pork. It was skinless, but he felt something inside of it different than before.

He felt bone. He felt release.

He chewed through the flesh and reached the bone. There were two distinct bones, perhaps a radius and an ulna. It did not matter.

He took the bone and thrust it into his abdomen with all of strength. A blunt instrument, it would be excruciatingly painful. But it did not matter if he felt pain, or if he slowly died due to an infection. As long as he died. As long as it ended.

But his muscles did not move. He felt the voice again in his mind.

Slave... You now know what it is to be one of us. You have tasted the same flesh that our infants feed upon. Alien flesh... Your flesh...

A part of his mind screamed, but another part already knew this when he first tasted the flesh. A part that did not care.

He touched where his left arm once was, even when eating it felt like it was still there. Taken from him yesterday. But they did not need him for his body, only his mind, and he knew it. They would slowly feed him to... himself...

A part of him smiled. His body was likely broken, sick, and dying. The Slavers were numbing his mind from that fact. If only he could have thrust that bone into him... he could have hastened the process...

Humaannn... the creature taunted, There is much you can show us...

He tried to object, but thoughts rose to the surface. Memories. He thought of a ice, then a glacier and its slow movements. He focused upon it.

Your futile attempts to shield your mind amuse me, primate.

He thought of her face, her smile. He heard her voice and it comforted him.

The female again... they exist for a single purpose that the Gods bestowed upon them tail-less primate... Yours are no different.

He felt something, agitation. Loss. For the first time in what may have been years, a smile came to his face.

I will spare you your thoughts this day. I even have a gift for you...

He heard another scraping sound. He reached out and felt something bony with a leathery cover.

It was his left hand.

He knew that if he attempted to kill himself now the Slaver would sense it and prevent it and it had countless times before.

But he had a plan.

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Post by Ace » Fri Jun 08, 2007 8:48 am

Ahh what the frell, part two...

---

The only difference between being asleep and awake was that the voices disappeared. The terrible voices in the periphery and the screams that echoed beyond even them.

A blinding light entered the room from above. The entire ceiling moved. It was well above him, well beyond escape. But he finally knew how they brought him.

His eyes burned as they tried to adjust, but they had been in the utter dark for too long. They could not cope, and all he saw was a blinding light above and a shadow. He heard a crack as it fell. It was the size of a man. The light vanished as the ceiling was slid over his cell, it reminded him of closing a sarcophagus. He was once again in darkness.

He shuffled over to the body, he felt it. It was soft, and seemed human. Several bones were broken from the fall. He heard breathing, soft and erratic. He brushed up against the person and felt strands of hair. He felt his own hair and beard which were navel length. He gently touched the person, a woman, but she did not respond.

He touched her face, her eyes were open. Her face was soft and lacked lines despite what she had been through. He knew that this was his fate, a husk. He touched her hands, no callouses. She must have been a recent arrival, interrogated and sent here.

Another present for my favorite monkey... the all too familiar voice gloated, Imagine if with your very thoughts you could reach to her and bring forth her will and that she would serve you and your Gods faithfully for all eternity. Then you can begin to know what we are...

"We only need one God!" the man yelled.

You don't actually believe that... the creature chided, Your race is one of blasphemers, and those with minds such as yours... and what was hers... are the worst. I know all of your thoughts... your desires. You can fulfill one of them now, primate. You are not so different from us...

The man frowned, he had hoped to catch the Slaver off-guard with something out of character especially due to the religious overtones of his captor.

You should appreciate the Grace of the Masters. The Gods have a plan, and you live by their will and your role in that plan. Now... tell me what you know of the Gods...

He felt a tingling sensation in his mind, as if fingers were running through his skull.

"I... KNOW... NOTHING!" he screamed at the top of his lungs," I DON'T KNOW WHO YOUR GODS ARE! I DON'T CARE! JUST TEAR THROUGH MY MIND AND KILL ME LIKE YOU KILLED HER!"

The dark intellect probing his mind smiled, You *want* to die... You have attempted to starve yourself and harm yourself but I musn't allow that quite yet... Your species is strange, many of you surrender to your inevitable demise and resist us to die sooner. Yet others believe in their own self-righteousness or in their comrades and resist us in the hope of escape. You are the former. A rebel...

The way it said 'rebel' reminded the man of music, of a song.

"Why... do you think I know anything?" the man asked.

You were found with them, they sung to you. Songs of their enslavers.

"I'm a diplomat... what could I possibly know about your gods!" he yelled, his hoarse voice cracking.

SUUL'KA! the Slaver boomed, TELL ME OF THE SUUL'KA!

In the dark recesses of the man's mind he smiled, he knew that the Liir he was with took their own lives. He was their sole informant. He also knew that this creature, despite its horrific nature, was inexperienced. It slipped information. That the Slavers were created, that they sought their Gods. He knew they were scouring the galaxy for information on species that could be their Gods, and they wished to know of the Suul'ka. Enemy.

"We... are the Suul'ka! We... are the Creator!"

LIES! the mind snarled, I GROW TIRED OF THE WEB OF IRRELEVANT REFERENCES THAT FORM YOUR INTELLECT!

He felt a presence swiftly pull from his mind.

It paused, collecting itself and considering its words, I will allow you to appreciate my gift. Know us. Appreciate what it is to be a Father. You will tell me of the Suul'ka willingly.

It was gone. He looked at the woman and he turned her head to the ground. He was certain that if their positions were reversed she would be kind enough to do the same for him.

* * *

I have a name father... Dalshaan eagerly stated.

Your slave killed your... how did you phrase it? Ah yes, 'present.' Xerserion remarked.

Dalshaan glared.

Yes... I saw... everything... Xerserion smiled, Suul'ka... perhaps one of the many names of the Gods?

A name granted only by the unclean Dominus!

If you only meant those words my son... Xerserion responded, You are free from my will for the rest of this day. Seek a new mate. In the morning I want to know more about those who enslaved the Liir.

...and what of the dead female? Should I take the corpse to the feeding grounds?

No, let it rot with him. Do not feed him either. Let there be consequences for his actions. Consequences build the strength and morality we need to be Fathers, they are what brings us closer to the Gods.

You are wise as always, Dominus.
Last edited by Ace on Sat Jun 09, 2007 6:06 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Post by Ace » Fri Jun 08, 2007 9:33 am

What the heck...

---

Bone fragments were littered through the room. He stuck out his tongue at the moisture that collected in the corner. It was all that sustained him for the past two days.

Bonus victus? a familiar voice taunted.

There was a sliding sound, and the man smelled flesh. He crawled towards it and grabbed it with his hand and held it to his face. It was real and smelled sweet, it reminded him somewhat of salmon. He bit into it, and it had clear flavor from its fat. It was even slightly cooked.

He looked into the corner, in a strange way these beasts had been kind to him in a sense. He could be wallowing in his own filth but even when they neglected him they seemed to clean his... cage... as he slept.

Enjoying it?

"Yes..." he replied in between bites.

Our children find it disgusting compared to the flesh of your race. They are... poor at all things.

He did not stop eating, he knew the moment that he smelled it that it was Liir. Just as the first food they gave him were scraps from Changed Tarka males. The infants of the Slavers seemed to not like the bitter taste of the hormone-rich meat.

The tingling sensation of the Slaver's probes returned, and he imagined what the face of the woman who died here was like. Her hair color would be forever lost to him but he could see her nose, lips, and cheeks. He wondered what she did, from what his captor said she was possibly a fellow diplomat or perhaps a linguist?

He could feel changes in the probing as he continued this line of thought. It disturbed the creature, thinking of a female as something more than a sexual object. He wondered if the Slaver women were repressed, but considering what he felt and what it said to him another thought dawned one at the corner of his conciousness for some time.

"Your women aren't sentient?"

The creature recoiled from his mind.

"They aren't, are they?"

He was met with silence.

"You're wondering how someone can have... intercourse with a sentient? Without dominating?"

Further silence. Then pain. Something else was in his mind, tearing through it.

He smiled as he felt his memories one by one dissolving. It was finally over. His plan... was successful.

* * *

Dalshaan whelped as his own mind was being ravaged by his father.

Mother is to be destroyed, all humans are Mother. We are Fathers. We are the hand of the Gods, Xerserion lectured, To complete your failure, I do not see a new mate in your coetrie.

The Dominus' son recoiled in pain and submitted, I... will find one... tonight...

That pleases me. It is unbecoming for my son to not have a complete coetrie. It is a sign of weakness, a sign of weakness that reflects upon me.

Other thoughts filled Dalshaan's mind, most specifically the strange hormonal-driven emotion that his slave felt in his memories towards one female. The Tarka were much like them, pleasure and power and the Liir did not disclose such alien thoughts. The insects... their minds were full of... mother...

Such emotions were not those of father and son. They were of equals. Among the Zuul only Fathers are equal.

The Gods had truly brought this human to them, to show a new path.

Love. Love between equals. Love between Fathers.

Xerserion smiled.

---

I think that's a good place to stop actually. I just couldn't see dragging out a weird-freaky-torture-cannibal thing out longer... it was too weird. So... an example of how Zuul take odd alien experiences and make them Zuul-ish.

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Post by Erinys » Fri Jun 08, 2007 5:55 pm

Interesting piece! Many thanks for posting. :)

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Post by Slasher » Fri Jun 08, 2007 8:25 pm

Very nice, though I'd expect the Zuul to be more "inventive" if they really want to go to all that trouble for a simple interrogation. But why didn't Dalshan just tear what he needed from his victim, whats with all the "You will tell me of the Suul'ka willingly" bit?
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Post by Psymon » Fri Jun 08, 2007 10:56 pm

If I interpreted it right, rifling through the guy's brain and trying to rip out the pertinent information risked destroying the information altogether, as well as the brain.

Nice piece by the way.
Ernest Hemingway once said the world is a good place and worth fighting for. I agree with the latter sentiment.

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Post by Slasher » Fri Jun 08, 2007 11:18 pm

Which would leave the question of why thats not a problem when theyre prying information from the mind of an engineer about the latest generation of beam cannons... Or missile warheads... Or the information Dalshan needed from the Liir that was fed to the prisioner, which should know more about them then any human...
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Post by Ace » Sat Jun 09, 2007 6:13 am

I presume that it is a problem for all research, afterall it is mentioned that the Zuul prefer to keep such victims alive for years as they slowly unravel their minds.

Both Dalshaan and the nameless prisoner are both toying with the other. One trying to break the human by forcing him to be 'Zuulish' and the other the opposite. Once again tied to the whole toying with the prey before reducing it to a husk. Generally I assume it doesn't play back as much, but then the whole chain of events is rather orchestrated by the Dominus for his own... social engineering. ;)

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Post by DervMan » Sat Jun 09, 2007 5:57 pm

Yeah I like it too. It's an interesting style, it puts a little bit of information to the reader, so from this perspective it keeps you coming back.

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Post by Psymon » Wed Jun 13, 2007 6:06 am

I know I've spent too long on the internet. I reread the last bit and now what's running through my head basically goes:

"Love between Father? Zuul yaoi..." *snigger*
Ernest Hemingway once said the world is a good place and worth fighting for. I agree with the latter sentiment.

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Post by Ace » Sat Jun 16, 2007 7:07 pm

Actually, that was what you're supposed to think... I think... :twisted:

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Post by Erinys » Sat Jun 16, 2007 7:44 pm

I think it's the only possible interpretation of the sentence.

There is no word in the Zuul language for "love".

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Post by Coyote27 » Mon Jun 18, 2007 1:21 am

Now this is just creepy.

:shock:
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Post by Psymon » Mon Jun 18, 2007 4:13 pm

The story or the Zuul yaoi thing? Both are pretty disturbing. Though it's nice to know the internet hasn't completely warped my little mind.
Ernest Hemingway once said the world is a good place and worth fighting for. I agree with the latter sentiment.

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