Today I've posted two different pieces of the story, Part VII and Part VIII. If you've not read VII, just scroll down or click here.
-----------------Part VIII-----------------
“Brothers and Sisters,” Pralis announced to the congregation. The group consisted of two men and two women, not including Janosh and Pralis. They were all robed in black and green, though their chests were bare and bloody. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to the speaker. “This is Apostle Janosh.”
The group stared at the new comer, studying him, and Janosh grew uncomfortable. They’re staring at my missing arm, he thought.
“Is he the last,” one of them finally asked.
“Yes, he is the last, Arnothe,” Pralis answered. “Lord Golian was specific in picking Janosh to be the final Apostle. He has feasted once and has been Earthing since early morning.”
“When will it start, then,” a woman asked.
“Very soon, Taneil. When night falls, Lord Golian will come and give us our final assignments.” The crowd seemed to grow restless at this, and Janosh reacted with them, uncertain what to expect with the assignments. “Now, I imagine Janosh has many questions, and we will give him the answers we can until Lord Golian appears. He has just Awoken as of last night, after all. But first,” he said smiling, “let us feast.”
At this, the congregation let out a bestial growl, their stomachs rumbling with their voices. Pralis led them to a locked basement door. He regarded everyone for a moment and then proceeded to the lower levels. They walked down a long corridor, the working white fluorescents making them appear ghostly. Janosh noticed bloodstains on the floor and walls, and occasionally there would be a pile of bones. They stopped outside a large, heavy door.
Janosh thought he could hear moaning coming from inside.
Behind him, the other Apostles were growing restless. Pralis ordered everyone out of their clothes. They stripped down, and Janosh marveled at the bodies. The flesh was a mixture of milky white and dark splotches, as if large bruises were under the skin. His own was not as foreign as the others, as he had only recent been transformed. “It’s so we don’t soil the robes,” one of the Apostles whispered to him, clearly seeing the confusion in his eyes.
Janosh noticed that some Apostles looked mostly like skeletons, with a loose layer of flesh and muscle covering the bones. Others, like himself, still had most of their fat and muscle mass.
Pralis turned back to the door and placed his hands flat on it. After a few seconds, the door began to open. It slid sideways, slowly, and as it opened the Apostles grew even more restless. The smell of flesh intoxicated him, and he could feel his mouth watering. “Droe. Reial. Leave two alive,” Pralis commanded as the door finished sliding open.
The people inside began screaming for mercy.
The group stared at the new comer, studying him, and Janosh grew uncomfortable. They’re staring at my missing arm, he thought.
“Is he the last,” one of them finally asked.
“Yes, he is the last, Arnothe,” Pralis answered. “Lord Golian was specific in picking Janosh to be the final Apostle. He has feasted once and has been Earthing since early morning.”
“When will it start, then,” a woman asked.
“Very soon, Taneil. When night falls, Lord Golian will come and give us our final assignments.” The crowd seemed to grow restless at this, and Janosh reacted with them, uncertain what to expect with the assignments. “Now, I imagine Janosh has many questions, and we will give him the answers we can until Lord Golian appears. He has just Awoken as of last night, after all. But first,” he said smiling, “let us feast.”
At this, the congregation let out a bestial growl, their stomachs rumbling with their voices. Pralis led them to a locked basement door. He regarded everyone for a moment and then proceeded to the lower levels. They walked down a long corridor, the working white fluorescents making them appear ghostly. Janosh noticed bloodstains on the floor and walls, and occasionally there would be a pile of bones. They stopped outside a large, heavy door.
Janosh thought he could hear moaning coming from inside.
Behind him, the other Apostles were growing restless. Pralis ordered everyone out of their clothes. They stripped down, and Janosh marveled at the bodies. The flesh was a mixture of milky white and dark splotches, as if large bruises were under the skin. His own was not as foreign as the others, as he had only recent been transformed. “It’s so we don’t soil the robes,” one of the Apostles whispered to him, clearly seeing the confusion in his eyes.
Janosh noticed that some Apostles looked mostly like skeletons, with a loose layer of flesh and muscle covering the bones. Others, like himself, still had most of their fat and muscle mass.
Pralis turned back to the door and placed his hands flat on it. After a few seconds, the door began to open. It slid sideways, slowly, and as it opened the Apostles grew even more restless. The smell of flesh intoxicated him, and he could feel his mouth watering. “Droe. Reial. Leave two alive,” Pralis commanded as the door finished sliding open.
The people inside began screaming for mercy.
-----+-----
In the second before Janosh rushed into the room, he observed his surroundings. Huddled together in the semi-lit room were nine people. Some were old, some were young. Some were fat, some were thin. All of them were terrified.
Then the six Apostles were on them, consuming flesh and blood. They screamed as their bodies were torn to shreds by the hungry Apostles. Two random victims were thrown against the far wall, their bones crunching loudly as they hit. Janosh lost control of himself to the strong commands from his stomach. It’s almost like there’s something deeper inside me that is telling me to feast, he thought as he cast a bone aside.
It didn’t take long to finish their meal. Pralis stopped them, reminding them that they had to keep two alive. They were all bloodied and dirty. Pieces of flesh stuck to their skin. They were all smiling, temporarily appeased. The thin ones even were slightly bloated, their stomachs bulging a little.
The two survivors were left in the room, along with what was left of the corpses. As the door closed, they began moaning again. Pralis led the group to a shower room, where they washed the filth and blood from them. Once finished, they re-dressed. Pralis gave Janosh a matching black and green robe. Then they returned to the main floor, sitting in chairs and on the floor.
“Now,” Pralis said, taking a seat, “let us help you to understand what is happening, Janosh.”
Then the six Apostles were on them, consuming flesh and blood. They screamed as their bodies were torn to shreds by the hungry Apostles. Two random victims were thrown against the far wall, their bones crunching loudly as they hit. Janosh lost control of himself to the strong commands from his stomach. It’s almost like there’s something deeper inside me that is telling me to feast, he thought as he cast a bone aside.
It didn’t take long to finish their meal. Pralis stopped them, reminding them that they had to keep two alive. They were all bloodied and dirty. Pieces of flesh stuck to their skin. They were all smiling, temporarily appeased. The thin ones even were slightly bloated, their stomachs bulging a little.
The two survivors were left in the room, along with what was left of the corpses. As the door closed, they began moaning again. Pralis led the group to a shower room, where they washed the filth and blood from them. Once finished, they re-dressed. Pralis gave Janosh a matching black and green robe. Then they returned to the main floor, sitting in chairs and on the floor.
“Now,” Pralis said, taking a seat, “let us help you to understand what is happening, Janosh.”
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