The Sounds of Demise

By Eliya Fionnlasdan

Pant pant.

 

Breathe heavily, as the thudding of hardened leather boots on stone echoes...

Continuing on the... Suicide attempt? Asperation for a quick death? Maybe it was just a whim, running in front of them like that. That’s a possibility, for the draco are beautiful in their own deadly fashion, with the gleaming spikes, crystaline horns, and teeth dripping with a strange, glowing saliva.

Most of those who end up with their innards spilled because of a draco ended up that way simply because they were curious as to how they look up close, and how it would feel being shocked, gored, and having your skin start to boil away all at the same time. Quite an experience, as a few of the short-term survivors had claimed before their sparks of existence finally ceased to be.

In any case, there was a specific reason that she was running ahead of a group of the creatures. She just couldn't remember what it was.

The odd chortling noises they made were slightly soothing to her, and she paused momentarily with a half-drugged look upon her face. Then, recalling that she had family and friends to get back to, she began running again, the noise of her feet chasing her as surely as the draco were. Her breath came in hissing gasps, distracting her from the sounds they made, for now.

There were many gleaming spots in the darkened caves floor, where the creatures had drooled as they followed. Their shining, razor talons made scrapes that burrowed into her mind through the ear canal, making the insides vibrate at an unnerving pitch and sending extra ripples through the air which helped that nerve to ‘un’.

Their own panting and wheezing wasn't really that; for them their versions of panting and wheezing sounded vaguely like a kind of music. The only slightly pleasant noises they make are when they are on the hunt.

Another reason why aislings have a tendancy to be lured by their mysterious and slightly lurid killing behaviors. The sounds they make while they slice apart the layers above your rib cage, then peel the ribs out to lick at your still-beating heart and nibble on your lungs are supposedly lovely to hear.

Though, she suspects that it is an aspect of the glowing saliva which makes it enjoyable. Halucinogen most likely, or the dying are just so happy to hear a sound besides the snapping and slurping of their bodies being torn apart and eaten that they believe any sound better than a snarl is glorious.

 

Ha, indeed.

 

The gleaming hide appears ahead, and the scrape of hardened leather veers to another direction across the flat stones. There are shadows behind the stalagmites, which she hides in for a moment. But it does not do much good, for the draco have a sense of particles floating about in the air which would rival any other hunting creature.

 

Thuppa thuppa.

 

The sound of the heart, which would be incredibly bad to lose. A melodious whine, and glowing spittle flies through the air, disturbing a few grimlok into flight, their dark and wispy hair literally flying behind them. Then there is the sudden snap of the gleaming tongue flicking out to grab one, and the cracking sound of draco jaws shutting on the tiny morsel.

The whine in response to perhaps the sound of her heart beating. Not very agreeable with the situation.

 

Oh, no. Not agreeable at all.

 

She was curious as to how the demise would come, the feel of empty spaces being created where once were warm, lumpy, squishy things, but there is also the need to make it home to consider. She has a companion who needs her. And things such as good friends, lovers, do not come as most things do, a breath of fresh air, a drink, the easily attainable. They are not wished to be lost in demise, though some would argue that demise is the ultimate curiosity lessener, even though they have not personally experienced it.

A deep quiet breath is good. Then time is more available for escaping the not necessarily desirable demise the beautiful and wonderful creatures would give. Demise is something for another time, since she has reasons to live.

 

Drip drip.

 

There is a sound nearby, and she is compelled to be silent as the snuffling and melodious wheezings continue where more light is present. Is that a kind of sneeze, as a few flecks of something glowing float through the air into the darker dark? She does not wish to be so near to the hypnotic salivations. Skitter along the wall like a crab and skirt past the creature to get farther.

 

Snort, whhhfffff.

 

Discovery is sometimes good, sometimes less desirable. It is the latter in her situation, but she is compelled to continue, so running faster is the chosen option. Other options do present themselves, but they are less desirable too, and she has had enough of that in a short period of time.

After some time, which is really nonexistent, there is a larger clearing between stalagmites. The looser ground and a few rolling, smaller stones do trip her at times, and she is being tripped at this time, which she still thinks is nonexistent.

A glow from a small hole in the roof of the caves bathes her and the earth in monochromatic, soft blue hues. This bit of aesthetic property is enjoyable to her, but paying attention to it is not one of the things that is going through her mind. Survival is going through her mind, as the instinct to live becomes more prominent, even ahead of the curiousity to know the sounds of demise.

Fortunately there is a large stone growth sprouting ahead, and the hardened leather of her boots provides enough protection for her feet for her to climb the tree-like stone outcropping. She does so, and sits as silently as she can, trembling in one of the branch-like growths of stone.

The draco decide then that they will disrupt her hiding with an appearance of their own. Climbing higher does not truly protect her, as they have ligaments and strong bones and fibers in their hind quarters.

 

Fwwp, chsshhhh.

 

A swipe of a glorious talon through the stone, close to the proximity of her makes her cry out as the branch she is residing on momentarily is clawed from underneath, and shaken a bit. Tears and sweat drip from her brow, as the realization that she is going to die breaks through the wilderness of her mind.

"Leave me alone, you horrible nasty overgrown vipers!" The string of vocalizations from the soft chords located where the breath is drawn from comes out of the frustration and despiration.

In answer are lovely snuffling and wheezing noises... Not so to her ears, but so to theirs. Then scratching sounds and vibrations shiver through the very palpable air as the base of the stone tree is shredded, in fewer moments than she had previously surmised would be required for such a feat. The growth was a large one.

After a short time, which really does not exist, there was a giant crashing noise, with many resulting vibrations, those not merely from the crash itself. Vibrations through the earth, and through her as the air chooses to leave her lungs. It is a unique sensation, that. The whooshing of the air as it makes its important and split-second decision, based on factors of pressure and stress.

But she thinks not on this most wonderous of truths, for there are the visuals of a dozen less five draco prowling in a tightening ring, making some harsh noises, indicating that they are pleased with eachother. She cringes and covers her head with her hands, whimpering.

A soft, slightly gutteral and pleasant sound erupts around her, and looking up there is a giant maw declaring something in their strange tongue and eyeing her with clear eyes. This is confusing to the girl trapped under a limb of the now shattered growth. Is she supposed to be alive still? Is it not the time for demise, and the lessened curiosity the demise will bring?

She is lifted from the toppled stone tree by gentle talons. Perhaps gentle for them, but several punctures form on the limbs being dragged. Dragged where, she is curious to know. But as all things have lessened curiosity in the end, the belief exists that the curiosity will ebb in a short amount of time, which really does not exist.

She is dropped into a circle of the seven draco by the seventh one. Limbs spread as she looks upwards, feeling as if floating on soft grasses under a blue sky, bathed in the monochromatic glow which will soon consume her existence.

The draco which gently dragged her from the toppled stone growth to this circle stands on its powerful and glorious hind limbs and snorts into the air, seeming to belch forth a luminousity which gracefully floats over her, making a sneeze result. Chortling from the gathered draco, the wonderous creatures, results in the chain reaction.

Following, her limbs are secured to the earth by elongated, thin, strong, metallic spikes driven forcefully through the joints, making cracking noises and resulting in pained and extremely loud screams. The draco makes a malicious swipe at a fellow creature, and the fellow bows down its head to snuffle at the ground, spitting a bit of the glowing saliva onto her bare and bleeding feet.

The first draco, which she has named Lahkim in her mind, takes a gleaming and beautiful talon, and slides it gracefully in a vertical fashion starting from the chest and veering off slightly down a transportational limb. Lahkim tilts its head a bit to listen to her screeching and agonized vocalizations for a moment, then coughs once and drenches the bloody and slightly torn being in the glow which is its saliva.

She immediately quiets, and gazes at Lahkim with awe and wonder.

The draco motions for another one, and that one steps up to her and slices through the worthless fleshes above the ribs, ripping the skin from the front. The victim suffers the most delectable agony as demise generates more intense feelings than anything else ever did. Save for one time... Which does not really exist, and therefore the present is merely intense feeling and demise.

Lahkim leans forward and twists the long, slender talons around a lower rib, and rips it from her form. She screams again, and is once more silenced by glowing spittle in the face, soaking through and being pumped by the heart, being swallowed, inhaled, blinked away.

Her body jerks as each successive rib is removed, creating empty spaces. Finally comes the tongue of the draco wrapping sensuously around her beating heart, cooing and making soothing noises. The other draco swarm the limbs and begin shredding and tearing the flesh from the bones, while Lahkim continues to make empty spaces in the center, leaving the heart and lungs for last. The intestines are thrown to a baby draco which has wandered towards where its parents are feeding.

 

The world begins to dim.

 

The glow absorbs her into it as her senses overload. The draco licks at her face before burying its own into the ripped open cavity in the center.

At the end, near the demise, there are some things in existance. No more companionship, or truth, or sensory inputs from further on. The sounds of the draco, the glorious creatures, as they take your life to absorb it into their own...

Are, truly, indeed, wonderful.