《EsD: Skullgod》


 001: Soliloquy

    Mom always warned me ¡®Faust, one day you¡¯re going to piss someone off you can¡¯t outrun.¡¯ Of course I never believed her, why should I have? I was the single fastest man in the world! By someone¡¯s god I earned that damned title, because when I entered the game I changed the nature of the sport. I was a revolutionary. Other guys didn¡¯t run to win anymore, they couldn¡¯t. The only shot they had was second place, because I was number one, the only number one. I sure as hell knew it, and they sure as hell knew it. A world built on the values of the self made man crumbled before me as I taught it a cruel lesson: heroes were in fact born, not made.


    That is not to say I didn¡¯t train. For me, training was an unavoidable consequence of my condition. One might ask, ¡®what is this condition you speak of?¡¯ Well, some might say I¡¯m ¡®too big for my britches¡¯, or even call me a narcissist, but I think that¡¯s a bit extreme, don¡¯t you? Regardless, some people can get away with such a condition. They have power. Some are big. Some are mean. Some have connections. Me? I well, I¡¯m just one asshole.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.??The best piece of advice I¡¯ve ever heard in my whole life was not ¡®be yourself¡±, although that has probably not helped in my case. It was actually ¡®fast people don¡¯t get caught¡¯, and as you can imagine, my shrivelled black heart took to it. While others ran for fun, or to lose one or none of their already too many pounds, I was running for my life. Soon enough, nobody could lay a hand on me, and in time, no man could match me. I learned to run on a primal level, which set me apart from those who could at best only take second.


    With the acquired skill of running for my life my ego exploded from inordinate to unconscionable. As the fastest man in the world I was not famous; I was notorious. Rumor had it I was a cheater: steroids, doping, black magic, the works. Some even spoke of a deal with the devil. To those who thought such things, I may have pitied their narrow peasant minds if I had a soul. Despite this, some people loved to hate me. Most just hated me. I had no problem with that, in fact, it empowered me. I became a god among men, one that fed on the hatred generated by mere mortals.


    Ah, if only I was truly immortal.

 002: Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen

    ¡°Think you¡¯ll win this one?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a dick, Faust,¡± the man replies between breaths. What¡¯s his name again? I swear it¡¯s at the tip of my tongue.


    ¡°You never do win, do you?¡± I chide.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t. Nobody does. Except you. Is that what you want to hear? Is that why you¡¯ve been hounding me for the past fifty miles? Just win the damn race and leave me alone already.¡± It¡¯s been fifty miles already? Halfway to another predictable victory across the mountain trails, my only real challenge.


    ¡°Touchy, touchy, I just want to be friends! Well, it just so happens I am winning the race.¡± I pause to let a shit eating grin peel across my face. ¡°By being one step ahead of you!¡±


    ¡°Go fuck yourself, there¡¯s a special place in hell for you.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, well being in hell sounds a lot more interesting than being you, why, you used to be a king didn¡¯t you?¡± Now I remember this guy! I¡¯ve broken all his records, ha! ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°You happened. You¡¯re a monster Faust, the devil¡¯s son.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re one of those people that thinks I sold my soul to the devil just to win a few races. Even you don¡¯t look that stupid.¡±


    ¡°Just a few races? You¡¯ve ruined them all. You alone have destroyed everything that is noble in our sport, you tore out the heart of every aspiring runner, and you shit on the dreams of a generation. Every child that puts on a pair of trainers grows up in your shadow.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s honestly the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.¡± I feign a tear. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll let you take first in a race that counts, just one more time in your life.¡±


    The man glowers at me with beetling brows, fury pulsing beneath his skin. I can see his fingers clench, the poison of my presence causing him to tighten up. Each stride he takes while my venom courses through his veins is a stride taken inefficiently. I watch as his energy bleeds out step by step, all in my honor. It makes me smile.


    ¡°Why do you do it?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°Run. You can¡¯t win.¡±


    ¡°I can try, damnit. You may have broken my records but you haven¡¯t broken me. I never ran for attention, I¡¯m no diva. I¡¯m not you.¡±


    ¡°Is that what you tell yourself? What kind of lunatic are you? Admit it, you¡¯re beat, you¡¯re old, and you¡¯re no match for me. Nobody is. Every last one of you is weak.¡±


    ¡°How dare you call me a lunatic? You¡¯re a maniac. You actually steal candy from children, from children!¡±


    I laugh, I¡¯d forgotten about that. I once saw this girl licking a lollipop just looking so defenseless and well¡­ I couldn¡¯t help myself. Next thing I knew I had that lollipop in my hand and my legs were pumping as fast as they could take me. Some do-gooders tried to catch me, but as you can imagine, they did not. I¡¯m so devious.


    ¡°Why do you think I am going to win, and you are not? You are a little girl, and this race is your lollipop. I will have that lollipop, because I am strong, and you are weak.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re mental. I hope you die,¡± he huffs, ¡°soon.¡±


    ¡°Not before I break the will of this world my friend.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t my friend, I have been praying that each breath you¡¯ve taken for the past ten miles would be your last.¡±


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.??¡°Just the past ten miles? Well clearly there is no god. Or, even better yet, if there is, he is my number one fan.¡±


    ¡°Someday, you¡¯re going to piss off someone you can¡¯t outrun, and judgement will be upon you.¡± He points to the sky.


    ¡°Ew, you sound like my mother.¡± We hit a hill, and I begin to speed up. I lock into my natural pace, much faster than my lackluster conversation partner could handle. I grew bored of him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve dug yourself a deep grave, Faust. On your judgement day me and countless others will be there to fill in the earth to cover up your darkness forever. The devil will collect on your sins.¡± He falls behind as the trail twists and turns separating us forever by the dark woods. Good riddance, I¡¯ve had enough of his shit.


    Alone at last, the mountain and me. That could be the title of a book. Sounds pretty gay. I feel the wind brush cold sweat from my forehead as it runs through my hair. The miles pass, the natural rhythm of the land flows beneath me as the trail guides me through the majesty of nature. This is living. In tune with the race, I am now running for my life; my legs carry me at unnatural speeds through the mountain trails, unrivaled by the world of men. Sometimes I wonder how this power came to be, why it was given to me. There are a thousand men who would have been idolized for the power, but I¡¯m not one of them. Life just isn¡¯t fair, is it?


    The path ahead dips down into a wide but shallow creek. I drop into it, and my feet splash through the cold mountain stream. As I take each step through the fast flowing water I feel its chill between my toes, it¡¯s invigorating. The trail continues up the far bank, and my feet make a wet schlop every time they strike the ground. After the short initial climb out of the cool mountain stream my footsteps form a cadence, schlop, schlop, schlop, schlop¡­ I fall deeper into my trance.


    At first, I didn¡¯t notice it; my soggy footsteps had drowned out the sounds of the natural world around me. But there it was, stalking ahead of me in the brush off the side of the trail. Is that a big cat? No, that¡¯s a really, really big cat. I stop. That is a fucking cougar, a big and hungry looking god damned one at that. My heart races, and adrenaline pulses through my veins sharpening my mind. I think quickly and concisely: what are you supposed to when you meet a cougar?


    Play dead? Easy meat. Fight it? I¡¯ve never won a fight in my life, let alone a fight with a sharp-toothed razor-clawed killing machine. Again, easy meat. Ah yes, I remember now, you¡¯re supposed to look big and tough to scare it off. I inhale, preparing to give it a big scary scream, and- the cougar charges. My mind fogs over, my lungs let out a pitiful squeak, and before I could tell them not to, my legs are carrying me off at full speed.


    I dare not look back, I have to commit. I am really running for my life. My arms are pumping, adrenaline drives me far beyond my normal inhuman speeds. I think, for just one second, that maybe the fastest man in the world can outrun a cougar. That¡¯s when it hits me, plowing me face first into the rocks and dirt of the trail. Hubris plunges into my neck through four piercing fangs.

 003: Still Alive

    I¡¯m not dead, I¡¯M NOT DEAD! By the holiest fucking shit of the virgin mother of god I AM NOT DEAD. I throw my arms up into the air and spin while I laugh, but my initial excitement quickly wears off. I am bathed in indescribably utter blackness; my prior laughter swallowed up by a profoundly disturbing degree of silence. What the fuck is going on? I touch the back of my neck with my hand and I feel smooth skin; no bite marks, no stitches¡­ and I¡¯m naked. WHY THE HELL AM I NAKED? I walk forward into the darkness with my hands ahead of me, like the kind of idiots that play marco polo. For several minutes I walk in a straight line, only to find nothing. Fed up, I bend down and touch the floor. That is NOT floor. The hardened calluses of my feet couldn¡¯t feel it, but my hands tell me I am standing on something absolutely and perfectly flat, and whatever it is, it doesn¡¯t transfer heat. A tingle runs down my spine.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I croak into the darkness. I clear my throat.


    ¡°Is anyone the-ere?¡± I shout much louder, voice cracking. There is no reply, not even an echo; its absence chills my bones. My heart begins to thump in my chest, and my legs start to itch. They command me to run, and I¡¯m compelled to obey. They take me as fast as they can carry me, driving me through the darkness at inhuman speeds. At first I feel them burn, and then I feel them scream. Faster and faster I push them and I feel them cry out in protest to what was originally their own suggestion. The pain blossoms within me and I feel again the power, the power I had so arrogantly believed could save me from that cougar. But what happened, where am I now? Why am I still alive? Am I even still alive? I guess it doesn¡¯t matter, I am now running for my life. I will escape this dark infinity.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.??It seems like an eternity before my sweat soaked body finally collapses onto the floor, at last unable to heed my suicidal commands. My chest heaves against the strange surface I am sprawled against, face first in a growing pool of sweat. The conflicting urge to vomit and the need to breathe tortures me as I struggle not to drown in my own perspiration. My muscles one by one cramp and lock painfully, lashing out against their cruel master. The agony reaches a crescendo with the entirety of my body locked in pain, including my diaphragm. Panic seizes me and my eyes widen as I realize, I can¡¯t breathe. I try to force myself to take in a breath, a wisp of salvation. Instead, my tormented body struggles for air, a breath, a sip of hope, but can find none. Instead the darkness that surrounds me begins to enter me, and I slip into oblivion.

 004: Shining in the Darkness

    A soft glow awakens me. I struggle to peel open my eyes, and with a titanic effort I am able roll onto my back. I blink several times fighting against hazy vision, it seems impossible to focus my eyes on the source of light above me. In time I can read them, the words, shining in the darkness above me with softly glowing block like letters.


    ¡°WELCOME TO THE GAME¡± they say with an ethereal glow. Before my eyes another line drifts into existence. The game?


    ¡°RULE 1: YOU MUST PLAY THE GAME¡± What the fuck is going on, am I in hell? A third line fades in.


    ¡°RULE 2: VICTORY WILL BE REWARDED¡± Victory? Victory over what? What the fuck is this? I must be in hell.


    ¡°RULE 3: DEFEAT WILL BE PUNISHED¡± No, fuck this, kill me now and end it. I won¡¯t play this game, I¡®d rather die.


    ¡°RULE 4: DEATH IS CERTAIN¡± Oh fuck, no. No no no no no. I was kidding, I don¡¯t want to die, I¡¯ll do anything!


    ¡°RULE 5: THE GAME DOES NOT END¡± I stare at the last line for a very long time. No new words appear, just the same demonic list of rules. Their soft glow is almost inviting, as if they are attempting to seduce me. I try to get up, but my body is too heavy, too tired, to even protest. Defeated by my power. All I can do is stare at the infernal rules.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.??And I stare for a very long time.


    How much time has passed? How long have I stared at these god forsaken rules? I am parched, I am hungry, my body aches with a thousand pains, and they just hover above me in permanence, mocking my existence. My mouth is dry, but I am able to produce enough spit to wet my lips. I open my mouth to try to speak, but my vocal cords seize and I close my mouth. I try again, this time I am able to squeeze out a desperate word.


    ¡°Help!¡± There is no echo. On and around me my sweat has dried into a crust. I stare again upon the rules, reading them over and over again in my head. What do they mean, WHAT DO THEY MEAN?


    The sound of my heart beat, the sound of my shallow breaths, and most maddening of all, the soft glow of the rules. It¡¯s slowly driving me crazy. I scream. I scream and I scream and I scream until my voice goes hoarse, and I continue to scream until I can¡¯t force any more air out of my broken lungs. The vast darkness swallows up my voice, as if my cries had been just a whisper.


    At last, by some insane mechanism in my brain, a solution dawns upon me. Led into temptation, I accept my fate.


    ¡°I will play the Game.¡± I manage to rasp. The words explode with light, their brilliance unrivaled in all of nature, dominating the darkness. I hear, no I feel, a great thunderous reverberation, shaking me to my core. I feel the floor leave me, and I am ripped into the light.

 005: Dead Weight

    The light vanishes, dumping me in the middle of a spacious metal extension of a well lit locker room. A tidal wave a nausea hits me causing vomit to surge from my throat, but weakness prevents me from expelling all it from my mouth. Instead, I manage to turn my head sideways allowing feeble coughs to sputter puke onto the cold metal floor. Five men gather at the point where the metal floor is replaced with tile, all staring at me as I lay there naked covered in upchuck. Fuck, this is embarrassing.


    ¡°Fresh meat!¡± A short wiry man barks with a mouth full of filed yellow teeth. Every square inch of his deeply tanned skin is inked with macabre tattoos. His bald head is inked and mutilated into a frightfully realistic skull, pitted with savage eyes that gleam of madness.


    ¡°Try dead meat. That¡¯s a civvy.¡± Comments a tall burly man with close cropped brown hair from behind the cigar he is chewing on. I can¡¯t tell if his leathery face is smiling or scowling, but from his crossed arms and furrowed brows I decide he is scowling. I try to get up.


    ¡°Mmm, that¡¯s a sweet ass.¡± A thick hairy man-mountain rumbles as he rises from the bench he was sitting on. The giant¡¯s massive hands are the size of dinner plates, furrowed with deep scars and layered with long healed burns. I notice the look the titan¡¯s eyes are giving me, and I don¡¯t like it.


    ¡°Aww hell no! Siddown big-bear.¡± A black man of immense but uncomparable size yells, clapping the man-mountain on the shoulder. Fortunately, the man-mountain returns to his seat. Unfortunately, the look in his eyes doesn¡¯t change. The black man gives me an uncomfortable smile that isn¡¯t particularly reassuring, in fact it looks more like a grimace. At least he¡¯s trying?


    A short stocky man with a thick handlebar mustache and dark red hair waddles towards me. He is missing his left arm, in its place is a comically large mechanical claw. When he reaches me he roughly hoists me up to my feet with it. Ow.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You okay, bub?¡± He asks as he leads me to a row of lockers. I grunt. The seventh locker has some sort of large metal tag on it, but his claw tears it off and crumples it up before I can get a good look at it. He opens the locker and tosses me a dusty towel to wipe the vomit off my face. After I clean myself up and wrap the towel around my waist he hands me a set of oversized clothes of the same type worn by the others. In all my life I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever struggled so much to get on a pair of pants. Well, except for that one time.


    "I¡¯m MacCubbins, what¡¯s your name rookie?¡± Says the man with the claw.


    ¡°Faust.¡± I reply.


    ¡°I¡¯m Frobisher, whatcha do tiny?¡± The large black man interjects, neglecting the r in his name.


    ¡°What?¡± the hell is he on about?


    ¡°You seem to be a little confused here, so let me clear something up for you. Everyone is here for a reason, see, I¡¯m ex-military. I shoot things. I¡¯m good for it. What are you good for?¡±


    ¡°Well, I run fast-¡±


    ¡°Dead weight.¡± Spits the man with filed teeth.


    ¡°Hey, a glad¡¯s a glad!¡± MacCubbins says tossing up his arms. I have no idea what he is talking about, but the others seem to give him mixed looks of ridicule.


    ¡°How fast can you run?¡± Inquires a tall, thin, but chiseled, man with deadly gravity. His fair complexion, bright blue eyes, wispy blonde hair and good looks betray the aura of darkness about him. I could see him as quite the lady killer, especially in the more literal sense. I don¡¯t think I noticed him enter the locker room¡­ and he definitely wasn¡¯t here before.


    "Yea, think you could outrun a cheetah?¡± The tall man with close cropped hair interjects, tossing around the cigar in his mouth.


    ¡°N-no, I can¡¯t. What kind of question is that?¡± I stutter as I scratch the smooth skin on the back of my neck. What happened?


    ¡°A relevant one.¡± The blonde man folds his arms while replying. His eyes narrow as they focus on my lifted hand. ¡°So how did you die?¡±


    ¡°A mountain lion¡­¡±


    ¡°Sheeeeeeeit...¡± Frobisher deflates.