SHATTERED REALMZ

Lightening flashed in multiple successions as Dagon Zarot walked up the pathway towards a dilapidated manor, that his great-grandfather insisted he explore, to claim the rest of the inheritance. Light rain started to fall from the sky as the rumble of thunder from the earlier flashes began to reverberate through the air. A man of 31 scrawny with pale skin shivered as his dark black hair started to hang just over his misty blue eyes, Dagon was not a handsome man but something about him was not quite unattractive either. Even though he was frail looking he was tough as he led a rough life always being picked on, teased, and bullied; there was a tautness to his musculature. As the darkness was broken by the flashes from the storm it somehow enhanced his stature. He was by no means strong, but he was enduring and could take a beating.

Last week Dagon received notification informing him his great-grandfather recently passed. This was a shocking revelation to him because he was orphaned at a young age. Once he was old enough to search for his parents, he discovered they were brutally murdered. Most of his life he had been treated like a slave and had to work hard for the scraps of food that he was given. So, when he received 20,000 in cash, he was taken aback not knowing what to do with it all. On top of that he was told that he would inherit even more but he would have to explore the manor to receive it. The stuff of dreams for any boy or man a treasure hunt. This was not the mindset of young Dagan though. Thoughts of how he could make those suffer with the money was his drive. This feeling was strange to him as for most of his life he felt hollow inside never really experiencing sorrow or joy. He had very little of the initial money left as he had to spend most of it to travel across the lands to this desolate and forgotten place were the manor was.

As he approached the manor the rain began to fall harder Dagan thought to himself maybe this was not such a great idea as the manor seemed to creak with anticipation of his arrival. The windows were mostly broken, and the stoop was worn down. The two demon like gargoyles still looked eerily realistic stood guarding the stoop, as lightening created deformed silhouettes across the background. This startled Dagan as he walked up the stoop toward the main doors. They seemed majestic, as he had never seen something with so much beauty, yet the images inscribed into it were sorrowful full of despair. As he ran his hands across the visage of the creepy doors with depiction of what one might believe to be a battle between angels and demons with demons being victorious. A chill ran through him as he pushed open the doors the darkness from the other side seemed to roll out the door. A voice in his head, “seeeeeeek Dou’ Mak” or was it the squeak of the doors that made that sound or was it both? A little rattled it took him a minute before entering the manor.

Inside the atrium was a foreboding sight as suits of armor lined the inside and macabre taxidermized animals seemingly locked in eternal battle with the armor. As light from the lightening came in through the windows his attention went to the wall above the main staircase was a picture of him standing in a very overpowering way! This intimidated him, on closer inspection it was not him perhaps his great-grandfather. He would have never guessed that he came from money. Things started to make since in his head though reflecting on how he was treated. Oh, he will make them pay! With his mind set he began to explore the manor. The rules were simple stay in the manor till you find the treasure. Bring nothing in with you except what you are wearing. Leaving the manor forfeits the treasure to the next of kin. Dagon thought to himself who would that be as I have no family.

On the third day of his exploring, he was beyond exhausted. His stomach ached for food. He was lucky that water from the ongoing storm was seeping into the house. He had discovered nothing of any relevance from most of the manor. He was exasperated he thought for sure he would discover some clue in the study. He did find four secret passageways leading from one room to another and even a passageway that led to the kitchen as well as two secret rooms with nothing of importance. Currently he decided to explore the study/library once more. Lots of statues and books so many in disarray most in languages he did not recognize. This macabre décor somehow appealed to Dagon. He realized some of the books appeared to refer to magic and thought as if that existed in this world. Playing with an obsidian and jade dagger, that he had been hanging on to since day one, he stopped once again to admire the skeletal craftsmanship. Exasperated he threw himself into the seat behind the ornate dark cherrywood desk which he soon discovered to be a mistake as gravity took control, he plummeted backwards kicking his feet up into the underside of the desk breaking though the drawer. Laying on the floor rubbing the backside of his head from an awkward position, he glanced upwards to see a mahogany bookshelf behind him was open. He looked around to see the reason why discovering that his foot had smashed the bottom of the drawer under the desk and hit a hidden button. He also discovered a small black mysterious book. Which he instinctively picked up before entering the corridor downward. As he started down the passage slowly as it opened the door creaked and groaned, “seeeeeek Dou’ Mak” or was that a voice in his head?

The corridor led to a stairway that spiraled downward deep underground. He had long forgotten his hunger pains driven now by some unknown pull. As he walked, he started looking through the black book strange elaborate designs with even stranger languages, but the black book seemed to annunciate the inscriptions in his tongue. There also seemed to indicate the manor was built on the only lay line nexus in this world. Dagan had no idea what any of it meant. Lost in the words attempting to sound out the inscriptions in his head he reached the bottom of the stairs stumbling as his focus was on the book he tripped and fell scrapping up his hands quite bad. As he winced in pain standing up blood dripped down his palms to his fingers, he picked up the black book and was now facing an ornate dark metal door carved into it a massive crowd of figures apparently bowing to a lone figure. Interesting design Dagan thought as he looked for a way to open the door only to discover none. Frustration and impatience began to rise within him as he looked up to yell but instead noticed an inscription near the ceiling ‘sanguis enim nobili est clavem.’ ‘What in the world does that mean?’ He thought as the exhaustion started to set in, he slammed his bloody fist in the door to curse his dead relative.

The door started to glow dark magenta from where his blood splattered. He stepped back and rubbed his hands across the door and the blood caused a greater reaction as the light traced through as his blood flowed freely out of his wounds into the door. This is it he though I am a goner and the door suddenly opened.

Torches appeared to have lit themselves as the door opened lining the walls what looked like long dead bodies holding the torches. In the center of the room was staff that looked to be made of a dark metal that seemed like darkness flowed out of it but more like light was being extinguished as it came near the staff. It had a blue-greyish hue to it. The top appeared to be a skull of a tiny dragon with eyes of dark red rubies. This is the treasure he thought noticing it stood near the middle of the circle inscribed on the floor. With the same strange inscription encircling the circles and two triangles overlapping in opposite directions perfectly. He approached the staff drawn to it the hunger he felt had long faded or did it? As he grasped the staff and pulled it would not move. He pulled open the black book from the other hand and began to flip through the pages annunciating the words inscribed on the floor. Lost in the reading a whisper in the back his mind echoed. “let the nothingness enter you let it hollow you out. Let it suffice you feel the deep emptiness penetrate your essence, seek Dou’ Mak.” Power flowed all around swirling darkness flashes of light a tug at his body in all directions as if he will be torn to shreds at any point pain racked through his being as he screamed in agony. Accepting the empty power.

Dagan opened his eyes he was holding the staff as he got his bearings, he looked around fear began to creep inside his being as he realized he was no longer in the catacombs under the manor but a cavernous room with several skeletal forms standing in formation before him dressed in armor. The two leading skeletal warriors figures moved as they drew their swords. A deep dark fear and desperation grew in him realizing he was no longer in his world. The skeletal warriors rushed to attack him; in defense he brought forth the staff he had a death grip on. After a few seconds, no blade strike he thought, as he dared to open his eyes. The two skeletal warriors were kneeling before him. A sly smile if you could call it a smile crept across Dagan’s face the first time in his life he ever smiled. “I shall find you my liege,” he whispered to himself. Taking in this new reality all thanks to a little money and a mysterious black book.

Pains of hunger once again wracked his body. Hunger for what though Dagan pondered.