Cryofax
Rangers GuildMaster
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2006
- Messages
- 6
Time's Reckoning
He hovered over the infant as it slept in its crib. Looking down upon it, he could see all the things he once was. Innocent. Beautiful. Unconditionally loved. Everything he was before he fell into the grip of evil. Evil that pushed him to kill. To rape. And to find no other means of pleasure as gratifying.
It would take little effort to snuff out this young life. A sleeping baby. A new low for even him he thought. He remembered all the others he had destroyed. The pleasure he felt as their terrified faces pleaded with him to spare their lives. How he would sometimes give them false hope of mercy, only to snatch it away and soak in their terror as a sunbather soaks in the sun’s rays.
Deep inside he knew why he had become a monster. The utter powerlessness he felt in the world. The desire to have control over something. Anything. And so he would. Time and again he would.
But they had picked up his scent, and now the world knew exactly who he was, and what he had done. His family, friends, everyone. They all knew him now for the perverted human filth that he had become. Not that they could bring him to justice. The portal device made it all too easy to escape nearly any situation. The ability to travel freely through time made his work easy, but it also made him careless, which was how they discovered the clues that led to his identity.
He thought of traveling back and trying to remove the clues, or traveling back before any of this and starting anew. But he knew it would be futile. It wouldn’t be long before he would be back doing what he did best, wielding his god-like power over the innocent. Taking everything they held dear and pleasuring himself with its destruction. Wallowing in the shame afterward, yet compelled to repeat it.
So there he stood… The knife’s blade now but inches from the child’s neck. Emotions flowed over him like rain, and the tears welled in his eyes. As the fateful moment arrived the door to the child’s room unexpectedly swung open.
“Dear God!” was the shrill cry of the child’s wild-eyed mother. As he looked at her onrushing form, he choked out three words through his profound sadness…
“I’m sorry, mother…”
Then he was gone. His very existence wiped from the annals of time. He had been killed as an infant by an unknown attacker who was never found. And never killed again.
-----
- Cryo
He hovered over the infant as it slept in its crib. Looking down upon it, he could see all the things he once was. Innocent. Beautiful. Unconditionally loved. Everything he was before he fell into the grip of evil. Evil that pushed him to kill. To rape. And to find no other means of pleasure as gratifying.
It would take little effort to snuff out this young life. A sleeping baby. A new low for even him he thought. He remembered all the others he had destroyed. The pleasure he felt as their terrified faces pleaded with him to spare their lives. How he would sometimes give them false hope of mercy, only to snatch it away and soak in their terror as a sunbather soaks in the sun’s rays.
Deep inside he knew why he had become a monster. The utter powerlessness he felt in the world. The desire to have control over something. Anything. And so he would. Time and again he would.
But they had picked up his scent, and now the world knew exactly who he was, and what he had done. His family, friends, everyone. They all knew him now for the perverted human filth that he had become. Not that they could bring him to justice. The portal device made it all too easy to escape nearly any situation. The ability to travel freely through time made his work easy, but it also made him careless, which was how they discovered the clues that led to his identity.
He thought of traveling back and trying to remove the clues, or traveling back before any of this and starting anew. But he knew it would be futile. It wouldn’t be long before he would be back doing what he did best, wielding his god-like power over the innocent. Taking everything they held dear and pleasuring himself with its destruction. Wallowing in the shame afterward, yet compelled to repeat it.
So there he stood… The knife’s blade now but inches from the child’s neck. Emotions flowed over him like rain, and the tears welled in his eyes. As the fateful moment arrived the door to the child’s room unexpectedly swung open.
“Dear God!” was the shrill cry of the child’s wild-eyed mother. As he looked at her onrushing form, he choked out three words through his profound sadness…
“I’m sorry, mother…”
Then he was gone. His very existence wiped from the annals of time. He had been killed as an infant by an unknown attacker who was never found. And never killed again.
-----
- Cryo