The Watcher of The Eternal Flame
The Watcher of The Eternal Flame violence stories

frucissiere Blazing iron in the house of death
Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
+18 I guess, not sure how violent I can be here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-The holy flame needed a guardian. One that would not dare to corrupt it, for that would let the demons free into this world. No matter what happened, it needed a guardian.

The Watcher of The Eternal Flame

I am the watcher of the Eternal Flame.

Screams echoed through the chamber, filling it’s lukewarm halls with even more blood. Everything was red.

-Please, I beg, I beg you, please... Help me... Please, make stop, make it stop... – and her voice was lost, on yet another blood chilling scream, blood dripping, all breath lost.

Amazing she could still talk, after screaming for so long.

For years, I stood right here. Unmoving.

Her body was limp, without any strength, being held by the hair.

No food. No water. No sleep. In eternal torment

He got her by the hand, almost gently at first, caressing it. Then, under her shocked eyes, broke one more bone. Another crazy scream ripped her throat.

In this entire world, she was the only person I had left. The one I loved the most. The girl I hoped one day, I could build a family with. Everyone else, had been decimated even sooner.

I dared hope that she, in the very least, had escaped. But no. He was keeping the Best for the end, after all.

-Persistent, isn’t she? – He laughed.

Despite that, I could see how enraged He was. He thought that by killing my last, most precious flower, I would move. I wouldn’t.

And He would drag her torment – and mine – for as long as He could.

This was the 90th Day. He would bring her very close to death sometimes, then take her to be healed. He would start it all again. And again. And again.

She used to be a warrior. We met on a battlefield. We suffered. We grew stronger. And one Day we learned we could leave all that behind. That we could be better.

And with our scars, and the medals of a war, we hoped to grow old together.

I had never seen someone so strong. She resisted for so long. At first, she kept saying that no matter what happened, I should never leave my post for her. I didn’t.

But now, she begged me the opposite. Her soul was broken.

The others had suffered a similar fate.

My friends. Family. Even the temple caretakers. The ones Who were supposed to help the watcher. The children, god, the children.

What used to be holy, was now covered in bones and rests of broken bodies, that kept me company even after He was done tormenting me for the day.

The flames, however, were safe. I haven’t looked at them for ages, as I can never take my eyes out of the door. But they speak to me, with every shadow cast on the wall.

They’ve told me secrets about the universe, the mind and the soul. I’ve seen everything there is to see. I’ve known everything there is to know. And it doesn’t make it any easier.

But it has convinced me that I must stay still. Forever, if I must.

I’m the watcher, and I wasn’t supposed to be.

I was chosen to elect a candidate, between thousands of hearts presenting before me. And I did. A young man, with golden eyes, and a smile as light as his soul.

I was chosen to elect a candidate, between thousands of hearts presenting before me. And I did. A young man, with golden eyes, and a smile as light as his soul. His blood was the first one to profane that ground.

You see, He hoped to win. Maybe He would. He reached far, only with a select few, and could’ve won, hadn’t I seen beyond his words, at the last moment. But I did.

And so, He decided to take everything - everything ¬– by force. To let such a person guard the flames, would be like blowing the trumpets and inviting in the horseman.

I hoped one of the other finalists could win that battle.

But one after the other, they all fell.

But one after the other, they all fell. I was left alone, in a blood painted room, with a beast. Behind me, the flames. I could not win.

I knew what I had to do. And I did.

I burned into that pit. Hell run through my body. Through my soul. The flames birthed me in pain and blood. And I rose again. Standing still, like a statue.

Flaming sword in my hands, resting, guarding. Eyes craved on that door, waiting for a threat bigger than humanity.

He knew He could not fight me now. And He knew I couldn’t do it either, unless I abandoned my spot. Holy flames shall not burn through human souls.

And so, I was a statue with eyes, and ears. He tortured me, on all the ways He could. The murders He committed there were unspeakable. Vile act after vile act.

Genocides washed over this holy floor. He enslaved entire civilizations. He offered them to me as his bloody tribute.

He Hunt down every friend I ever had. Ever person I ever knew. Until the world was empty, wild and Unknown to me. Until I was completely forgotten, and even the flame was no more than a myth.

He made sure no one would ever take my place, IF it wasn’t him. No one would ever step in that temple again – unless they were there to die.

She was a little bit different. She had hidden quite well, for the longest time. She made a mistake. She tried to fight for me, and failed.

She, as well, had been erased from the world, Just on a different way. She was no more than a shell.

And I was no longer her lover. I was the watcher of the eternal flame. And so I stood.

She would die, someday. And someday, I would kill him. Someday, He would fall so low, that He would no longer be a human. And so, the wrath of the fire would befall upon him.

And then, there would be silence. Forever.

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