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kartik murali

Horror Action Fantasy


4.6  

kartik murali

Horror Action Fantasy


The Origin Of Death

The Origin Of Death

9 mins 310 9 mins 310

Egypt-69 BC- The First Plague

"Beauty is everything. It has the power to hypnotize, mesmerize, and effectively control this feeble world ruled by men. A world destined to crumble under their false egos, soulless conquests, and crushing insecurities. Men don't have the courage, patience, or nerve to serve anything greater than their selfish pursuits and fantasies. The dark lord's doing can never be undertaken by them. Only a woman understands the blood, sacrifice, and tears needed for such an undertaking. Hence, only us, me, and you, oh great priestess of death, can serve him, do his bidding. I was hoping he could give me the gift of eternal beauty, and I promise to throw the world at his feet. For him, I would burn the world, bleed the river Nile dry, pluck out the stars and throw them at his feet, oh wise witch. Just show me the way, for I am the chosen one. I have now learned the secrets of moving between both these worlds. I have his gift, his mark. I shall lay the world at your feet; Egypt will be yours, The prince of darkness- the mighty Apophis would be proud!" the young princess Cleopatra pleaded. 

It was another dark starless night where the moon was at its fullest with a distinctive crimson blood-red tinge. Another night where the young princess, though motionless and in deep slumber in her royal chambers, could travel to unknown worlds and interact with otherworldly beings. But she knew these beings were the ones who would offer her redemption, offer her unadulterated power to rule the world of men who had shamed her family & slaughtered them. If she had to broker a deal with the devil himself, she would do it in the blink of an eye. She waited with bated breath for the priestess to speak.


"Oh, young one, his hunger can only be satiated with death and sacrifice. You in the near future will give birth to three ripe offsprings. Offer them at his sacrificial altar on the night of the full moon, along with the meat of three bats beneath the tomb of your great forefather- Antiochus and 36 vials of your blood, and the sword will be yours. The sword is all but a fragment of his soul and must be safeguarded with your life. These three bats will resurrect and enter the world of the living from the world of the undead, for bats are a manifestation of Apophis himself. They possess the ability to travel between the living and the undead once dark magic is cast on them. They shall guard you to death and bring annihilation in the world of the living by spreading the dark plague to do his bidding " the frail old woman with lustrous black hair and red catatonic eyes, beneath the mask of gold, shrieked almost as if in a trance. "I accept, "cried out the young princess without a single doubt in her mind and fell back asleep.


Present- Kochi- Vincent's Secret underground Lab: Covid Origins

Vincent was fuming; if his rage could be quantified, it would stretch outwards towards the whole of Kochi. He hadn't fallen this helpless in years. Even when the atom-splitting fission reaction he had tried to emulate three years ago had almost burnt him, his entire lab, and years of research along with it. He was at destiny's doorstep, with fate pushing him back to square one. "Think Vincent. Think. Remember that fateful day when you saw the ritual with your own eyes. What did you miss? How did Sheryl enter it, and where did she vanish? You have to remember the minutest details of that fateful day". Vincent immediately asked his attendants to ready the ice bath, his place of introspection, reflection, and clarity. Only when the body is at its numbest, does the brain assume control and exude clarity in areas of the mind covered in darkness. It was his mantra that enabled him to think clearly, without any doubts. He lowered himself in the ice bath and closed his eyes. The memory came floating back.


He was eight years old, unable to sleep again like the last few nights. His house overlooked the grand Verghese mansion. There was always something wrong with it, Vincent felt, something out of place and evil. Everyone thought it to be haunted, even cursed. Suddenly a faint cry drew his attention. Could he be dreaming? He opened his curtains wider to have a closer view. There certainly was an unusual amount of commotion that day. On a whim, he decided to explore more. Knowing little that it would be the biggest mistake he ever made. He took the secret shrubbery path that he and his friends had discovered whenever their ball would land in the seemingly haunted mansion's courtyard. Mysteriously all the burly-looking guards that manned the mansion were missing that day. He easily climbed the banyan tree overlooking the mansion and landed at the antechamber from where the mysterious voices were emanating. With bated breath, he pulled the long golden sheathed curtain to have a peep. 

A dozen candles dimly lighted the room that was dark, cold, and unsettling. A faint breeze that carried the essence of an icy burst of cold air circulated its entire periphery. It gave him the chills; "I can still feel the coldness in my bones like it was yesterday", remarked vincent. The room felt like an underground cave nestled deep in the mountains. Dark undecipherable chants in unheard tounges filled the air and rose in greater intensity with every passing minute. Vincent's heart pounded faster than a running motor. He looked up to the ceiling as the strange voice thundered again. To his amazement, the entire roof was covered with bats. Terrifying, snarling bats with bloodshot red eyes could spook the living daylights of anyone. He could see the lady of the mansion, Sheryl Verghese, draped fully in a gown made of black and gold, reading from a strange book with mysterious symbols, atop a table made from the whitest marble he had ever seen. On the table were the strangest assortment of things scattered in carefully designed golden caskets. There were skulls, organs of peculiar animals, and dark occult-related offerings that made his skin curl. Right at the centre of the table were three gigantic bats that almost seemed like vultures. He wanted to run, but the next sight that met his eyes had him transfixed, rooted to his spot. The lady -Sheryl, slowly opened a huge casket bringing out a small child, no bigger than two or three and started uttering dark verses in a terrifying out worldly pitch. The child, oblivious to the loud cries and chants, seemed remarkably calm and composed. Vincent rubbed his eyes in shock to see if this was indeed a dream, but the harshness of reality unfolding in front of him bought him to the present instantly. Sheryl Verghese, to his horror, then proceeded to wring the necks of the three gigantic bats and eventually bit on their flesh, eating them raw. A soon as she consumed them, the small, frail child in Sheryl's arms levitated magically, almost six feet in the air, and the ground beneath their feet seemed to give way to a sort of gigantic portal that threatened to consume everything within it. The earth trembled as the gaping hole in the ground started growing wider with each passing minute. Out of that ungodly hole came three immensely mutated bats with gigantic wings and murderously sharp claws that could split a human in half in a second. Their eyes spelt death. The lady let out a deafening laugh, and almost magically, in an instant, a majestic, magical sword of the most exquisite beauty appeared in her hands. 

"The dark lord, the prince of darkness, the scion of Satan himself, Apophis, I give you salvation!! Please accept my offering;" the lady shrieked as she was about to plunge the sword into the unsuspecting child's beating heart. Vincent's heart froze; he couldn't breathe anymore. He had the immediate urge to run but found himself paralyzed with horror. Suddenly a familiar sight met his eyes. There was the lady's husband, Anthony Delsworth, along with a familiar figure who came running in spouting holy verses and sprinkling holy water on Sheryl. Vincent couldn't believe his eyes. It was his father- the priest who presided at the local church at fort Kochi accompanying Anthony!! NO..please No. He shrieked, but the voice barely escaped his lips as he watched the bats devour his father in minutes. Crestfallen, he fell unconscious, and the world became a blur before darkness enveloped. 

Vincent woke up instantly from the ice bath, ironically covered in sweat from the memory that scarred his dreams & his life. This memory was his emancipation, his purpose. Revenge was that one tenet that drove his existence ever since. "I now know what to use now, he spoke aloud. I need to use bats and restart the experiment"; he proclaimed with a steely resolve. "Surely science cannot answer everything; the lens of science cannot explain several instances and occurrences. I need to include the dark occult arts' dark secrets with scientific precision to achieve my end goal. The book of the dead that I stole from the Verghese mansion right after my father's death is the book I need to refer to". He had his eureka moment.

Vincent restarted the experiment with an uneasy sense of excitement and nervousness. He had added the bat meat as instructed by the book of the dead directly into the test tube where the atom-splitting fission reaction would take place. 

A white burst of light overtook the lab and his fellow assistants, rendering everyone unconscious. When they woke up, the plague was in the entire stretch of the lab, in the space they had fallen unconscious in and in the very air they now breathed. The plague assigned by the scientific name "Covid 19" had reached out from hell, threatening to infect the world with it. If not entirely, the portal had opened partially, at least, Vincent heaved a sigh of relief.


Journal entry 118, Date: August 4th, 1939

I am alive, and they are not. What have I done? My Sheryl, dissolved into the womb of darkness in front of my own eyes while I stood helpless & afraid. Cowering in the dark like a coward, I stood stupefied, almost paralyzed in the face of real adversity. How do I even call myself a man? Courage, strength & valour, traits which my family name once stood for, eviscerated in minutes. I will be known as the man who couldn't produce an heir, the man who resorted to black magic as a last resort to get an offspring, the man who brought death to his own home in the form of the sword, the sword of the priestess of death herself.

How foolish was I? A laughing joke. And this joke is my reality. I am a coward. If only I could drink a magic potion that filled my heart with the courage needed to face the darkness or use a magic wand that could repel its dark powers? Or was this all a dream, a nightmare?? No, but this is real as real can be. A dark reality that now exists with Ezekiel and me as its only inhabitants. What do I do now?


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