(A story based on) The Consuming Shadow
This is based on a run of The Consuming Shadow (a game by Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw) that happened a while back
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Its been 32 hours since I began this mad dash to stop whichever ancient evil that deigned to invade our reality. The only thing keeping me going is an incantation I learned early on that heals my wounds, and the fact that bashing these monstrosities with my pistol eventually kills them. The only thing keeping my sanity from slipping away like sand through fingers is the delightful concoction in these syringes I've purchased. Still, even those wear off over time, and healing myself through constant melee takes its toll as well.
I've just taken my second dose of "delightful", and already I can feel the madness tearing into me. The last town I visited had already been taken by the shadows, and the minions of the ancient one poured through into our reality through space itself torn asunder. I stopped in a neighboring town to have a gash in my side treated. It has bled the whole drive here, and more spells have only left me seeing nightmarish things in my periphery.
Before I entered the walk-in clinic a thought struck me with such force: "Just kill yourself," it said, "End it here. The ancient ones have already succeeded. Besides, a barely trained staff of nurses won't be able to help with that incessant wound." As if on cue I looked down, the dark patch of dried blood welled up fresh, seeping past my fingertips as I desperately clutched at it. "Just end it here," the thoughts continued.
I couldn't help but agree.
With trembling hands I pulled my gun from my waistband. I racked the slide back and stared at the only thing I had been able to trust in these last few hours. Blood caked the handle, bits of flesh were dried to the aggressive grooves meant to improve grip. "How much happier are those creatures now that I've put them out of their misery.." I thought to myself distantly. "How much happier will I be once this is over?" A manic smile spread across my cracked lips.
I turned the gun over, barrel and me, face to face. The voice in my head took charge and began raising it towards me, all the while my own voice began a frantic scream, "Don't do it! STOP!". But the other voice.. no, FORCE, won out. The cold steel rested just beneath my chin, I felt my thumb pulling back on the trigger and I closed my eyes.
CLICK
I slowly opened them. I was still standing in front of the walk-in clinic, the gash in my side was still present, painful, but was not spilling blood like it had been a minute ago. My hands trembled anew as I dropped the gun. "Bullets.." I said slowly, to no one. "I'm still out of bullets! HAHA!" the laughter continued, quickly became sobbing, and then back to a much more controlled chuckle. I could feel some of my sanity return, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough against these ancient things. I might die, but at least tonight my own poor planning saved me.
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Its been 32 hours since I began this mad dash to stop whichever ancient evil that deigned to invade our reality. The only thing keeping me going is an incantation I learned early on that heals my wounds, and the fact that bashing these monstrosities with my pistol eventually kills them. The only thing keeping my sanity from slipping away like sand through fingers is the delightful concoction in these syringes I've purchased. Still, even those wear off over time, and healing myself through constant melee takes its toll as well.
I've just taken my second dose of "delightful", and already I can feel the madness tearing into me. The last town I visited had already been taken by the shadows, and the minions of the ancient one poured through into our reality through space itself torn asunder. I stopped in a neighboring town to have a gash in my side treated. It has bled the whole drive here, and more spells have only left me seeing nightmarish things in my periphery.
Before I entered the walk-in clinic a thought struck me with such force: "Just kill yourself," it said, "End it here. The ancient ones have already succeeded. Besides, a barely trained staff of nurses won't be able to help with that incessant wound." As if on cue I looked down, the dark patch of dried blood welled up fresh, seeping past my fingertips as I desperately clutched at it. "Just end it here," the thoughts continued.
I couldn't help but agree.
With trembling hands I pulled my gun from my waistband. I racked the slide back and stared at the only thing I had been able to trust in these last few hours. Blood caked the handle, bits of flesh were dried to the aggressive grooves meant to improve grip. "How much happier are those creatures now that I've put them out of their misery.." I thought to myself distantly. "How much happier will I be once this is over?" A manic smile spread across my cracked lips.
I turned the gun over, barrel and me, face to face. The voice in my head took charge and began raising it towards me, all the while my own voice began a frantic scream, "Don't do it! STOP!". But the other voice.. no, FORCE, won out. The cold steel rested just beneath my chin, I felt my thumb pulling back on the trigger and I closed my eyes.
CLICK
I slowly opened them. I was still standing in front of the walk-in clinic, the gash in my side was still present, painful, but was not spilling blood like it had been a minute ago. My hands trembled anew as I dropped the gun. "Bullets.." I said slowly, to no one. "I'm still out of bullets! HAHA!" the laughter continued, quickly became sobbing, and then back to a much more controlled chuckle. I could feel some of my sanity return, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough against these ancient things. I might die, but at least tonight my own poor planning saved me.
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