Darkness.
It was dark in the cave that Amias 'found' in the basement of the library he was supposedly being 'pet-sitted' at. The walls were not stone, as almost all of his memories of playing Skyrim as a ninja cat made him assume. They were made of wood, which was the logical second choice due to the fact that he was under a tree. But something else was off about this wood. . .
It was all one piece.
It was smooth, and no matter how long he felt the weird walls, there were no signs of the start of another piece of. . .wood.
There was a faint sound. . .the sound of wind blowing, the darkness made his ears that much sharper due to his loss of sight.
'What am I doing?. . .Going into a dark endless tunnel with no end in sight. . .with CREEPY blowing sounds coming from behind me.'
The blowing sound was getting louder. . .Amias knew from playing Slender. . .or ANY horror game that looking behind you was the WORST thing you can do.
He did it anyway. . .
Nothing. . .not even a change of perspective from the darkness.
'Venite. . .'
Some strange voice in his head told him a word he didn't even know the meaning of. . .it sounded familiar, heck the voice sounded familiar.
He continued on into the darkness, after what felt like an eternity of walking into the unknown, pressing his hands against the walls for guidance.
His eyes finally catch glimpse of the first source of light in what felt like forever, his feet were aching, his eyes hurt a little adjusting to the light. . .
His hands felt bare all of a sudden, he groped around to find that there was a curve.
Left turn. . .
. . .
'Bonum, sequere me vos venistis . . .' The light said as Amias made the turn. Amias's eyes widened as he took in what was in front of him.
It was a blue, ghost like. . .
Human.
He had his entire form covered by cloth or smoke and, in shock, Amias stood there. He was frozen, he couldn't believe-
The ghost was gone.
Instantly, like someone turned off its light switch. Amias blinked a couple times.
'. . .What. . .who was that?'
Amias was tired, scared, lost, and now he was seeing ghosts. . .though a part of him was somewhat happy to see a human that can actually talk. . .another part of him wanted to scream 'ZOINKS!' and run in place for a couple of seconds before running away.
But he kept on going anyway. . .something in his mind wanted to know what was going o-
'Reliquit.'
Amias stopped in his tracks, and this time, he actually spoke.
"Who are you?" He said. . .with the slightest crack in his voice.
'Ah,quod vobis loquor enuntiabo. . .very well. Left.'
Amias felt the left turn coming. He took it and noticed immediately that the soft, smooth wood that he was so accustomed to turned into stone.
Cold, hard stone.
The voice kept on giving him directions, and reluctantly, he followed. These passages were long and 'branched' out to many other hallways (Ba Dum Pshh).
What felt like HOURS of trekking finally led to a light, the same light that led to the human ghost. . .another light was coming also-
The sound of. . .bells chiming struck his ears. A blue ball of light suddenly popped from the walls, its light briefly illuminating the wall from which it spawned. The ball came to Amias's leg, it 'snuggled' his leg. . .
It was so warm. Its light made him happy for some reason he bent down and as soon as he did, the ball jumped onto his shoulder.
"Awww. . ."
He continued walking with the ball of happiness on his shoulder, its warm, happy light keeping him great company.
The light came closer, and so did more balls of light, they all seemed to want Amias's attention. And attention they did get. They were like energetic little children, always jumping up, moving around, and instilling happiness with just there own.
Amias blindly walked toward the light, the balls floating and giving him the best feeling he had since coming to this world. A sense of peace that he had known since his arrival was blinding him to the possible danger of walking through a mysterious dungeon without paying attention.
A cold rush of air chilled Amias to the bone, the only thing he had on was a bed sheet, it really didn't do a very good insulator of body heat. Before he could even address the problem, all the balls of light covered his being. Their warmth was something that touched him on a physical, and spiritual level.
He felt so happy, so calm, he felt. . .
Safe.
And as soon as that safe, warm feeling arrived, it left just as quickly. . .
Amias felt a deep. . .chill run down his spine. It wasn't one caused by a sudden drop of temperature. . .it was one of fear.
Because right in front of him. . .was a box.
A black, ominous, box.
It had a simple latch to it that could easily be opened. No lock, no key, no security. The chest could be opened with a simple flick of the wrist.
But. . .this box didn't need any security. The utter, spine-freezing, paralysis that Amias was feeling was enough to deter even the bravest, or stupidest of robbers. A constant stream of whispers brushed against his eardrums, so quite. . .yet loud enough for him to question whether his mind is playing tricks on him, or the same voice as last time was talking to him, uttering silent nothings into his mind. Testing his mental fortitude, to see if he would dare look back.
The whispers sounded like someone was talking in his ear. . .right behind him, mocking him, as if the person was about to either slit his throat, or surprise him as if they were friends. The ambiguity. . .the lack of knowledge, the feeling that something is behind you. . .
Breathing on your neck, standing over you, silently waiting for you to look over your shoulder for it to strike. Fulfilling some sick, twisted pleasure. Watching you squirm inside your mind as you debate whether to risk your life to sate your curiosity.
The box was just a box. . .right?
Even though it is just a box, Amias's Fight or Flight reflex was blaring at him. Asking him to make a decision already. But how could he fight a box? And, if he were to choose flight, were would he run off to? He didn't have the slightest clue how to navigate the winding tunnels of this ancient tree.
He assumed there were winding tunnels, it was so dark that he didn't know. Again, the lack of information terrified him, was he in an infinitely complex maze of roots? Or was he in a simple corridor that only needed a couple minutes of wandering until getting out?
Open. . .
Something. . .some force was tempting him to open this unholy box. Like something was gently taking his shaking hand, guiding him to his possible doom. He didn't resist, he couldn't resist. His fear gripped him like the coldest of winters. The force slowly, ever slowly bringing his hand toward the deceptively simple looking box.
Open. . .
His hand, guided by the mysterious force, approached the box. He curved his index finger to grasp the latch that held this box closed. when his skin touched the metal . . .
The amount of fear he had was nothing compared to what he felt now.
The whispers turned into moans of despair and agony. It was like listening to the cries of the voices of the evil souls cast down by God into the deepest bowels of Hell. The infamous lake of fire was too nice of a punishment for these souls. They were sent to satan's cage, for their bones to be forever grinded and chewed on by the evil one's hellish maw.
Amias started to cry at this point, yet nary a whimper left his mouth, his fear had stripped away the ability to use his voice a long time ago. His mind overloaded by the screams and wails of the assumed damned. The worst part is he could actually understand there wails of agony. they only said one coherent sentence. . .
Avenge us!
His hand started to slowly open the box
*CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK*
The sound of a centuries old box opening could only be heard by the terrified man opening it. As the boxes top slowly open...the screams of torment and utter agony got louder. . .
And louder. . .
And louder. . .
Dawn the cloak of the dark. . .once again
Inside the box was complete darkness. . . light seemed unable to escape this box. and if the fastest thing in the universe had no chance against this box. . .
What chance did Amias have?
He reached into the box...waiting for his body to be sucked into a singularity. Only to physically grasp the darkness with his hand. The agonizing moans seemed to quite down, he lifted the darkness to see that it was a cloak, its feel felt so. . .familiar.
The cloak seemed to spring to life as it slowly slivered up his arm. The feeling felt very familiar, like it was a second skin. It wrapped around his neck and cascaded down. It looked like a wizards cloak, but it absorbed any and all light. It felt warm, despite the utter contradiction of a cloak that absorbed all light giving warmth.
Avenge the souls whose bodies were stolen and defiled. . .
Inside the box was a set of armor. . . it was almost as dark as the cloak that now darkened Amias's form.
The voices were still hollering there pain in his mind. He still couldn't control his own body. The armor was a solid black color, no fancy ornate carvings, no razzle-dazzle. The armor glowed a faint red.
Bring justice to us. . .our trust thrown away, our lives ended because of ignorance and fear. . .
He started to put on the armor. . .he knew how to put on this armor perfectly. It was like putting on clothes to him.
Then. . .
Came the mask.
When Amias's hand touched the mask, the screams of agony intensified almost one thousand fold. The source of his pain, his torment, his fear. It was a mask that was a shade of black so dark, the mask itself couldn't contain it all. A miasma of dark vapor poured of the mask in faint quantities. The mask had two white spots for eye holes, like the spots of Venom.
Wear the last remnants of our kind, brother. . .
The mask. . .Amias tried to resist this time, his fear turning into desperation. But, this force had a strong grip on Amias, and it was all in vain. The mask was on. . .
His face covered. . .
But his eyes open.
The force had to do nothing to Amias now, he knew the truth. Inside the box, all that remained was a knife and its sheath.
The knife had a double edged blade, they both curved inwards.
Take this Razor. . .let its black metal taste the blood of our murderers.
He twirled the blade around like a professional, the screams turned into anger laced encouragement. . .
and they all said, chanted one phrase
KILL THE SUN TYRANT!
Spike was in pain. . . and a lot of it. furiously masturbating to a peek at Spiders goodies led to him bringing out his. . .stash.
Basically, Spike was one of the biggest fans of 'My little Human: friendship is magic alive. . .
And not because it was a good show, fun for the whole family, and had one of the most charitable fanbases ever. . .
No, Spike was a fapper.
And now that he exhausted all his MLH porn. He had to do something else. . .there was always THAT video. . .
Spike still had one round left inside him, so he had to resort to one of the sexist video he has ever seen.
He went towards Twilights computer, the Big Mac v2, who know the red farm pony was a computer genius?
Spike got his lotion ready, his legs spread, and clicked the play button. . .
And when the castle exploded, so did Spike.
"Whew...that was awesome, time to go check on Spider."