Hate: A Machinae Supremacy Story

Hate: A Machinae Supremacy Story

A Story by Damien J. Dennis
"

Based off the Machinae Supremacy song "Hate", off the Redeemer record. Written in 2008.

"

Hate

 

A Short Story insipred by Machinae Supremacy

 

Written by Damien J. Dennis

 

                He slowly pushed open the monastery door, which was hanging on it's hinge very loosely.  As the door creaked open, a dim light came through.  The man pushed the door open all the way, revealing the courtyard located in the middle of the ancient monastery.   The sky was dark from the storm that was slowly rolling into the area.  He peered out the doorway.  In the middle of the courtyard was a large fountain.  It no longer flowed with water, but had much collected in its base from recent rains.  Fruit trees lined the path ways of the courtyard  and lines of pines ran parallel to the old walls.  It was a beautiful scene, even though the monastery itself was falling apart.

 

                The man stepped through the doorway.  The slight breeze caused his long dark brown hair to dance slowly.  His tattered clothing was smeared with dry blood.  His eyes were set deep into his face, and scars ran along his cheeks and over  his forehead.   His face was smeared with dried dirt and mud, as if he had been traveling for some time. To his waist, a brown belt with a sheathe hanging to his left side, his hand loosely gripping the hilt of the short sword there.  He wore the boots of a  simple peasant, much complimenting to his look.  He sluggishly made his way to the old fountain.

 

                He stared vacantly into it for some time, debating whether to wash his face or not.  He looked about, observing his surroundings.  After moments of this, he released his grip on the sheathed sword and dipped his hands into the cold water.  He rubbed his hands together, the dried dirt peeling away.  He took his hands out to inspect their cleanliness, yet they still had much dirt on them.  He repeated this process until satisfied.

 

                He cupped his hands, while lowering his head closer to the water, and began to wash his face.  Once he felt he was as clean as he could be, he dried himself off using his shirt.  This did nothing more than add more dirt to his face, but it did not seem to bother him much.  He turned his head towards the west side of the courtyard, noticing an apple tree with fresh apples.  A grin appeared upon his face, revealing his stained teeth.

 

                Running to the tree, he reached out for a ripe apple.  Once feeling happy with a piece of fruit, he leaned against the tree, sliding to the ground .  He sat there, slowly eating the apple.  The man felt as if he had not eaten anything in months, yet he had only been gone for a week.  He sat there thinking about his journey, about his goal.  As he finished his apple, tears formed within his eyes.  He feared he may never see his wife again, but knew he had to try.  When it all happened, they had been arguing over petty things.  He regretted it much, but knew deep within his heart how much he loved her.  That was the point of his journey.  To save her.  And yet, he had no thought as to where to even begin searching.  Even when he tried to remember back to the day, it seemed like nothing more than a mere blur.  He had no clues, not hints, nothing to aide him in his search.  All he could do his follow his heart, and hope it would lead him to his love.  All he had was hope.

 

                He threw the apple core off to the side, then rested his head  on the tree.  Wiping his tears away, he slowly dozed off.

 

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                In the distance, the sound of a wall crashing down echoed through the old monastery.  The man, awoken in a startled daze, leaped to his feet.  Firmly gripping the hilt of his short sword, he studying the courtyard extensively.  To the north, he saw a steady cloud of  dust rising over the walls.  He knew the old structure was unstable, that being the reason it was abandoned years ago.

 

                He released his grip, stretching out his arms instead..  He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the sky.  As he did so, the earth below him began to tremble.

 

                The man nearly fell several times, but quickly regained his composure.  The walls of the monastery miraculously still stood, even with the shaking of the earth, which was becoming more violent.

 

                He began sweating, not knowing what to do and feeling panic stricken.  Although he felt thankful for not being inside the actual structure, he also felt fear.  Staring at the ground, the man saw it beginning to open up.  The earth beneath him began to fracture and tear.  The man, his face turning pale white, watched as the rock cracked apart right under him.  He leapt to the side as the fissure began opening at a terrifying rate.  He backed away as it widened, running from the north to south ends of the courtyard.   The old fountain was swallowed by the opening earth, falling into the void.

 

                Turning to the eastern wall, the man began running out of fear.  As he reached the doorway, the quake stopped almost instantly.  He watched the wall in front of him, fearing it may collapse on top of him.  Slowly, the man turned his head, observing the fractured earth.

 

                 He made his way cautiously to the edge of the fissure.  Peering over the edge, he saw what looked to him to be fire.  Is this some form volcanic eruption, he thought to himself.  No, it couldn't.  He watched, noticing the red flames were rising slowly, yet picking up speed.  He stepped back just as the flames reached the surface.  To his already terror stricken being, the man gasped in fear as what he thought was flames erupting actually was a river of blood rising up.

 

                He unsheathed his short sword, gripping the hilt tightly in his right hand.  His eyes remained wide and focused on this newly formed river. Feeling very weary about approaching the edge, he forced himself to do so anyway.                

 

                He knelt down, dipping his free left hand into the blood.  He winced his eyes.  "Human," he spoke softly.  Straightening himself, he studying the flowing river.  It seemed to extend from the southern entrance, the doorway he came from, to the northern.  He couldn't tell if the river ran beyond those walls, but did not expect them to, for if they did the walls surely would have collapsed.

 

                Breathing slowly, he smiled slightly.  "So, an earthquake just within this courtyard," he said softly once more.  "This is what happened,  only instead of a river of blood…"

 

                He paused., remembering now at least some of what happened to his wife. A small tear in the ground opened beneath her, and she was swallowed before his very eyes.

 

                He focused on the spot where the fountain had once been.  In the blood, bubbles surfaced and popped, first at a slow rate but gradually growing ever faster.  It looked at first as if someone might be under the river, drowning, but he instead believed something was surfacing.  A grin appeared upon his face, knowing he'd finally get to use his blade to at least avenge his wife.

 

                As he watched, slowly out of the thick river of blood, a pale white shape arose.  Blood began spraying forth from the spot,  some right into his eyes leaving him temporarily blind.  The fountain of blood continued as the shape continued its surfacing.          

 

                The man finally managed to get out of reach from the geysers of the river, able to wipe his eyes clean.  As he did so, he realized he was drenched in blood.  This angered him, after being able to finally clean himself, he was now once more filthy.  He looked back to the shape, a look of rage in his eyes.  But nearly instantly, that rage turned to sheer terror.  The shape finally stopped rising and the river itself seemed to have seeped back into the earth, only a small crack from the fracture remaining.  The shape itself, revealed itself as being a large throne, but instead of wood or gold or silver, it was made up of the skulls of men.  The man stepped back, slowly retreating from this sight, but even as he did he never relinquished his vision on it.                 

 

                Upon the throne, a black shadow appeared and began to take a solid form.  In a blinding burst of shadow pulsating from the throne, the shadow became whole.  The man's eyes widened in fear.

 

                Sitting upon the throne, a large demonic looking creature sat.  The beast seemed four times the size of the man, its skin as black as the night sky.  It's face resembled that of the man's, if it were mixed with that of a reptile.  Two yellow beads were placed as the beasts eyes, with large pale-yellow horns penetrating its skull.  The beast had a wide grin, barring its bloody teeth.  It's body was that of a mans, possibly a warriors, due to the muscular form it had.  At the beasts bent legs,   two large spikes resembling its horns were extended out.  The beast starred vacantly at the man, as if waiting for something to happen.

 

 

 

                The man pointed his blade at the beast, trying to breath yet the air seemed to escape him.  "Y-Y-You foul demon," he attempted to say.  The beast laughed at this name, demon.  His laughter filled the courtyard and the rest of the monastery, causing distant walls to crumble down.

 

                "I am no demon, mortal.  For, to be a demon, you have to be an abomination of hell, and that is something that I am not," the beast replied.  He continued starring at the man.

 

                He fought to catch air.  The man shook his head.  "If your not a demon, then what are you, foul beast?" he yelled, falling to his knees as he took deep breaths.

 

                The beast's grin widened.  "You don't know," it said softly, watching as the man shook is head.  "Your more of a fool than I thought then."

 

                He struggled to get to his feet, using his blade to steady himself.  The air came easy to him now, but he couldn't place why it hadn't before.  "All I know, is that your responsible for my wife's disappearance!  I want her back," he demanded.

 

                "But, my friend, you know exactly where she is.  Why do you demand something of me that you already know?"  The beast sat there, it's massive hands now grasping the skull at the end of the throne's arm rest.  The man shook his head.  "You truly don't understand, do you?"

 

                The monstrous beast stood, the spikes in its legs retracting back into its knees.  It's height matched that of the fruit trees in the courtyard.  "I am a part of you, mortal fool.  I am as much a part of you as your heart and soul.  Does this help you understand any better?"

 

                The man shook his head, a sense of rage overpowering him.  He had to wait, wait for the chance to launch an attack.  It had to come when this monster's guard was down, otherwise he'd be crushed with one blow.       

 

                "Your wife, she had such a beautiful soul.  She had much love for you, and yet you still betrayed her," the beast said.  He held an apple in his hand, twirling it around.  "It's such a pity."

 

                "What are you talking about, demon?" he yelled.  The beast laughed slightly.

 

                "You still don't remember.  Have you blocked the events out of your mind, or has your hate overwhelmed you?"  Hate, the man's brow raised at that word.  Is this beast trying to say I killed her, no that's impossible.  I loved her, he thought to himself.

 

                "You keep telling yourself you loved her in your mind, but your soul and heart were filled with hateful feelings.  But she was not your first victim.  All the pain, all the suffering, all the death you have endured throughout your life.  All of it has been because of me, but I only acted through your wishes."

 

                The man shook his head.  "Lies!"  The beast took a step closer to him, bloody teeth showing.

 

                "I speak no lies, for I speak what is in your heart, and what is in your heart is not only hate, but my being as well."  The beast raised its head, laughing into the sky.

 

                Now, the man said as he began to sprint towards the beast.  His feet moved quietly as he approached his defenseless foe, ready to slay this abomination finally and shut it's mouth.  Sword raised in his right hand, he ran ready to drive the blade from the monsters neck down into it's chest.  Just as he neared the beast, it lowered it's head, eyes now turned to pools of blood.  The beast swung it's right arm, knocking the sword from his hand, than grabbed the hand with its left.  He lifted the man into the air by his hand, crushing it in his massive hands.  The man let out a scream of pain and horror, the beasts grip too much to take.

 

                "You are a fool!" the beasts voice roared, echoing throughout the entire region.  "You still do not seem to understand.  I know what you are, and I know your every thought and emotion.  How ignorant do you have to be to not notice I am a part of you!"  He released the man, dropping him to the ground.  With his left hand, the man reached for his sword.  As soon as he gripped the hilt, the beast launched a kick to the man's chest, causing him to fly back many yards.  The man landed hard upon his back and rolled up onto his feet.

 

                His right hand dangled, a bloody heap at his side.  Shards of bone were visible, peeking through the distorted flesh.  A mixture of tears, sweat and blood poured down his face.  "You killed her!"

 

                "NO!" the beast screamed, but then casually laughed.  "Well, yes.  I did."  As he said this, behind the beast flames erupted.  In them, was the image of a woman, chained and hanging, limp and dead.  The man's face turned pale.  His wife had been killed.  "But you see, I only killed her through your wish, through your hate.  For I, am the demon that resides within your very heart, the beast from within your twisted soul.  I am the physical embodiment of your mortal hate!" the monster roared.

 

                The man felt weary.  He tried to step forward but collapsed.

 

                "All the pain over the years, I have brought you.  But what you can't seem to fathom, is that you brought it upon yourself.  For, I am you!  I am the demon within you!  I am your hate!  I did not kill your wife.  On the contrary, you killed her!"

 

 

 

                The man shook his head and rose.  "Damn you, demon!  I'll banish you back to the Hell pit you crawled from!"  And with that, the man sprinted at the beast.  In his left hand he gripped the blade, wanting to kill the beast.         

 

                Just as he came within reach, the monster threw his right arm forward, with large sharp claws digging into the mans chest.  His grip on his sword released, his arm feeling numb and limp.  The beast, claws deep within his chest, seemed to grip the mans heart.  He raised him into the air.

 

                "You fail to see!  You killed your wife!  You killed your family!  And now, you have killed yourself!" the monstrous voice roared, sounding as if ten-thousand men were being dismembered.  The man's body began to tremble.  "No, it wasn't you!  It was the hate!  Hate that you have, resting within your demon, within your heart!"

 

                "To put an end to your hate, I must put an end to your life!  Yes, I means I shall no longer exist, but then again, who's to say I did in the first place?"  The demon began crushing the man's heart, as blood spewed from his mouth.

 

                "Man is a wicked creature, all filled with hate and rage!  The only end is in death!  You said you'll banish me to hell!" the demon screamed, pulling the man down so there two faces met.  "For all eternity, I shall be your tormentor.  To you, mortal," he then threw his arm forward.

 

                "I am your Hell!" it screamed, as the man was forced away from the beast.  As he flew off, the monsters fist came through his chest, clenching his fist.  The man flew through the air, limp and light.  He felt like a feather as the life slowly drained from him.  The mortal finally realized what had happened.  But now it was too late.

 

                He collided with his back into the monastery wall.  It caved in, taking him with it.  As the hole opened and the rocks and now lifeless corpse of the man hit the ground, the entire wall and part of the ceiling caved in upon him.  Within minutes, blood slowly trickled out from under the rocks, ensuring he was no more.

 

 

 

 

 

                The garrison of troops, no more than twenty entered the courtyard through the western entrance.  Following close behind, was an old monk.  He entered the courtyard of the old monastery, drawing in a deep breath.  "It has been long since any religious official has stepped into this god awful abomination," he said.  One of the troops, the commander, noticeable by his white and gold linens, pointed a sword out to the monk.

 

                The two approached it, as the rest of their party stood guard.  The blade was driven into the ground, but fresh blood was noticed along the blade.  Next to the blade, the monk saw a muddy lump, every few seconds it seemed to slowly have motion.

 

                He extended his hand towards the commander.  "May I see your dagger, sire?" he asked.  The commander nodded and handed the blade to him.

 

                The monk poked at the lump, cautious not to penetrate it.  "Take it to the fountain, and wash it," the monk commanded.  The party leader looked to one of his troops, and with his eyes told him to do the task.  The troop came over and picked the lump up.  He walked to the fountain in the center of the courtyard and dropped the lump in.  The party gathered around as the dirt washed away.   

 

                As the water cleared up, they were shocked to learn this muddy lump was in fact a human heart.  All their faces turned pale, as the monk noticed a large line, as if a crack, running from north to south of the courtyard.  He then looked to the eastward wall, noticing a large section caved in.

 

                The monk approached the wall, noticing the blood seeping from under the debris.  He shook his head and approached his party.  "There's a man under that wall, but it's too late to save him." he explained.

 

                "Well, should we not dig him out and give him a proper funeral?" the commander asked.

 

                "No, for he is surely crushed.  The task would be tedious and very unsatisfying.  And besides, this man deserved this death."  The monk began heading towards their exit, as the party followed.

 

                "What do you mean, he deserved it?"

 

                The monk nodded.  "This monastery was abandoned years ago, for it caused many people to have horrific illusions.  But, the people who experienced these illusions were known sinners, murderers and hate filled.  This man, whoever he was, came her probably looking for another, perhaps a love.  Because of this unholy place, it may have caused him to have a dark illusion.  That illusion would have been, from what I have been told anyway, the demon that would live within his very heart.  That demon, not real however, would cause the man to believe he is being attacked, but really he is killing himself.  He confronts the truth.  This poor soul, no, damned soul was confronted by his demon, by the very embodiment of his hate.  And from that, he cut his own heart out with his sword.  He then stumble into the wall, which collapsed due to weak building materials."

 

                The commander raised his brow.  "So, your saying this man died as a direct cause of his own hate?  His own personal demon or demons?"

 

                The monk nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek.  "Indeed.  It is sad, how men let their hate rule their lives.  Know this my friends, to be filled with hate, or any wrong emotion for that matter, will ultimately lead to your downfall.  I do feel pity for this man, but now, he is damned."

© 2011 Damien J. Dennis


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Added on June 26, 2011
Last Updated on June 26, 2011

Author

Damien J. Dennis
Damien J. Dennis

Rochester, MI



About
I am a Journalism major at Oakland University as a senior undergraduate. I work currently as an intern for the college newspaper, The Oakland Post. I am currently writing a massive fantasy novel(s) t.. more..

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