Category Archives: Fantasy

My Fantasy Stories.

Priestess

Just like the Hunter, the Priestess is a very old Soul, countless Lives later
she was chosen by Creation to be a Principle of Light, the Embodiment of
Healing and Life. Many Names were her own, many Stories she has to
tell, for a Soul wont forget its Voyage through the Ages. Immortal Being,
freed from the Cycle of Rebirth, she is now manifest as Traveler amongst
all Stars.

Where there is Suffering, she will bring Relief, where there is Death, she
is Life, hers is the Power of Restoration, and those in Need shall call
upon her Powers. She cannot be killed, she cannot be defeated, her Soul
resists all evil Magic. So vast her Power might be, that Darkness howls
and gnashes its Teeth but wont have her, cannot defeat her, will never
corrupt her.

No Demon stands against her, no Unlife can exist where she walks, and
Chaos cant change her, for she is a mighty Pillar of Faith in a
stormy Sea of Uncertainty. The Priestess speaks Truth, she defeats
every Lie, her Eyes see through any Illusion, and only she might
cure a Soul of an Illness deep inside.

No Weapon she uses, no Spear, Sword or Dagger. Hers is not the Way of
War. Even if she destroys the Machinations of Darkness it will always
be in Defense of a suffering Soul. Every loving Soul grants her Power,
every Song of Friendship gives her more Strength. Wisdom she speaks,
Judgement she bestows, ageless, far seeing and also forgiving.

Of all the Principles of Light, the Priestess might be the one to
grasp the Magnitude of Creation, the many Worlds, and Dimensions,
countless Possibilites. But Secrets beyond the Veil of Death she
keeps for herself, for what lies beyond shall only be known to a
select few, old and powerful enough to understand.

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Hunter

Under the Moon, in a different Land, where the Shadow and the
Darkness are one, we have met the Hunter. His Form invincible,
his Mind eternal, a Principle of Creation, a Champion of Light.
Where Monsters dwell, and Demons roar, you find him, with
ancient Weapons, and frightening Speed.

His Words wise, seldom spoken, his Ears able to hear your Cry.
Have you ever prayed to him? Dont. The Hunter is no God, but
maybe Gods blessed him for Eternity. Spear, Sword, Dagger and
Bow. It is not only Metal, not only Wood – drawn from his vast
Soul, Power is given to all those Weapons.

Between many Worlds, through the Veil of black Star Oceans,
he walks alone, there can be no Rest. Not for his Prey, all
those corrupted Beasts, who feast on the Living. How easy it
must be, for such a colossal Man, to send them all back to
Hell. How difficult it is sometimes, to destroy a Form of
Evil, far stronger than him.

Does Despair fill your Soul? Evil and Destruction surround
you? Sometimes you might find Aid in most dire Need. Once
an Arrow flies past you, a Sword slashes at unholy Flesh,
and his Fist smashes into grotesque Skull, you might be
saved from blackened Fate. Thank him, be grateful and full
of renewed Hope. Creation has not abandoned you.

Alone he must walk, without Sleep, it has been decided, and
it was his Will, Ages ago, after his many Deaths, his Lives
amongst those who came before. Might can only be given to
the Worthy, and those able to endure eternal Loneliness.
I smile upon the Hunter, he knows I am pleased with his
Prowess. Be proud, Disciple of Creation, against the
Tide of Darkness you are a formidable Light.

Schau in den Spiegel!

Man sagt, sie seien jung, aber sie sind es nicht. Alte, vertrocknete Hüllen,
hässlich, mißgestaltet und gezeichnet von Auszehrung. Weicht das Leben,
weicht auch immer die Jugend. So wisse, so sie denn am Lebenssaft nähren,
äffen sie die Schönheit des Lebens nach, werden jung, doch der Kundige, der
in den Spiegel sieht, wird ihre wahre Gestalt immer erkennen.

Sie flüstern dir ins Ohr, dass sie mächtig seien, doch auch das ist eine Lüge.
Denn das Leben, und die geheimnisvolle Kraft der Seele, der Glaube nur eine
Art Brücke hinein in diese Macht, wird sie immer besiegen können, doch wissen
nicht mehr viele, wie sie den Urquell hervorrufen.

Sie behaupten, sie hätten Macht über die Tiere, besonders Wölfe oder Fledermäuse
oder Ratten. Jedes Leben wird sich gegen sie zur Wehr setzen, wird sich niemals
freiwillig fügen, wird immer versuchen, ihr Joch abzuschütteln. Der Tod wird
immer Mühe haben, das unbändige Leben zu unterjochen.

Sie sind stolz auf ihre Verführungskunst, aber sie sind nur schwache Schatten
lebendiger Leidenschaft. Blutleere Kadaver sind ohne Lust, sie spielen es vor,
sie vollführen ein Theaterstück, selbst dann, wenn sie den magischen Saft
fremden Lebens genossen haben. Auf ewig ist ihnen die lebendige Quelle der
Fleischlichkeit, das Verlangen und Begehren nur ein schaler Nachgeschmack
ihrer erinnerten Existenz.

Ewiges Leben ist ein Fluch, eine Bürde, sie werden wahnsinnig, irre, voller
Qual wandeln sie zwischen den Grenzen. Ihnen ist Glückseligkeit versagt,
nur der endgültige Tod kann sie erlösen. Jeder von ihnen sehnt sich danach,
egal, wie sehr sie dich belügen, die Folter ihrer unerfüllten Existenz ist
ihr Fluch und ihre Strafe.

Sie wollen ihren Fluch unter die Lebenden tragen, und wissen doch, dass sie
dadurch niemals frei werden. Denn das Böse, so es denn an Zahl gewinnt,
wird immer über sich selbst herfallen, und so haben auch sie, die Vampire,
keine Wahl, jagen und töten sich gegenseitig, denn egal, wie schlau sie
sind, waren oder sein werden, wird ihre verdammte Existenz immer der
Zerstörung zustreben.

Hinter dem Schleier des Todes wartet der wütende Schnitter, denn er kann
es nicht leiden, dass er betrogen wird. Er sendet seine Priester aus,
er wandelt voller Eiseskälte unter den Lebenden, und schwingt seine Sense voller
Zorn, denn der Tod duldet nicht jene, die ihm entkommen wollen, auf
der Erde wandelnd, unter den Lebenden. Die Ordnung der Dinge wird behütet,
von viel mehr Kräften als nur denen, die glauben.

Dont Die, Gabriel.

to destroy gabriel white means to annihilate the powers of
retribution. to shatter his essence will rob the light of
its weapon. to vanquish the principle of war will make us
helpless against the flood. there has to be the warrior, and
he has to deal death to our enemies.

the burden of gabriel is his to bear. mortal souls clamouring
against his mind, all those he has punished with death, servants
of the black powers. but isnt it righteous? will gabriel stand
upright, answer all lamentation with his purprose, sending
those souls away to the abyss, to hell, to the void? does
killing the enemy truly color your soul black? or will it
shine even whiter, cause you did the good work of light? and
does that entail the destruction of your enemy, an enemy that
is barbaric, without moral, ethics, honor? one enemy, that
wont show you mercy and is responsible for so much suffering?

shatter the balance, allmighty one, kill gabriel and the
champion of evil will break into laughter. who will stop him
then? what does all that power of peaceful resistance mean,
when you can protect but not strike back? a healer, a mender,
a protector, it is not enough, there has to be a warrior
and he has to have the right to kill. eternal law might be
primitive, but see, the light must serve justice, and its
warrior is still bound by unshakable law.

demonkinds essence is worthless. souls are the currency of
our eternal struggle. the mortal world is still a battlefield,
subtle or very much in the open. there are times when you
have to fight, no matter the cost. let gabriel be what he
always was, make him whole, complete, as highest warrior
of the light.

Changed be your Existence!

a great mistake. to let you walk the path of retribution. your
powers made it easy to take revenge, to punish evil, to eliminate
it wherever you saw it. anger, hatred, justice for them, in the
form of an avenging angel. without restraint, the balance shattered,
you only gave power to your other half, made him stronger with
every death you gave. does it matter if it was an evil soul? is
it righteous to take a life, no matter how tainted, if you are
the principle of light?

every one of you must know: if you take a life, that soul will
haunt you for the rest of yours. you will create hell around
you with every death you accumulate. you turn your soul black.
some of you are so evil that they ignore the howling of all
those victims, others are just insane, howling along. but what,
gabriel, will happen to you?

it is wiser not to kill. it is wiser to protect and to shield
and to heal and to counsel. i must take away your essence, i
have to reform you, change what and who you are. look back
upon your life, endless like your opponents. be sure to awake
without knowledge of your past. and this time, fill yourself
with light, untainted and pure. you will be far more powerful
than your adversary.

i will reset the balance.

go out there, never do what you have done before, mend the
wounds of hurt souls, protect the innocent with your powers,
stare evil into its ugly face and behold how it cant overpower
you. alone this fact will be a beacon of eternal hope to
all who follow the righteous path. be the bridge into a
new world and push evil back into the nether.

Antagonist

all those names, identities, one cover after another, arent you
tired, gabriel? dont you want to give up masquerading? show your
true self to the world? reveal all those deep secrets of creation
and destruction, god’s true name, or better, what he truly is?
tell the press, gabriel, or the vatican, or broadcast it all
on the internet.

point a finger at your enemy who sits peacefully in places of
power, destroying and corrupting souls and nature. you know him
as well as yourself for you are brethren. dont wanna hear that,
mr. good guy? its the fucking truth. i must say he is more
successful than you, on a larger scale. no single white
knight, campaigning across the land, can hope to match his
influence.

sure, in power you are equal. should it come to that final battle,
doomsday will break loose. come join all those apocalyptic prophets,
and set a date for that climactic occasion. you could do it,
gabriel, you know where to find him. but a precious and all
powerful scale of balance has been created since the dawn of all
time. and both of you dont dare to break it for that final war of
destruction. cowards!

arent you a little bland and uninteresting, gabriel? protector,
knight, angelic guide. dont wanna be associated with the word
angel? cause you arent? despite your name? hey, tell me, what
are you then? do you even know? some kind of alien? or
another frankenstein monster of different faith? a genetically
modified superbeing, to rescue earth from your enemy? how
does that sound?

at least your enemy has a twisted sense of humour. and is a
much better talker. very charming guy actually. and a true
ladies man! not the typical bad guy. civilized evil, so to
speak, multifacetted, and yes, sometimes very brutal, sadistic
and deadly. but thats what they all like, this aura of danger
surrounding him. so, who’s gonna win the the contest? your
handsome charming enemy or the brooding and silent white knight?

Color your Soul black

in the beginning, a choice was given and a warning. you decided wisely.
but as time passed, all things changed within you. you thought yourself
to be immune against anger, hatred or revenge. the more you lived amongst
them, the more you became like them. the path of peace is a very difficult
one if you see all the atrocities of your enemy every day, every hour,
every minute.

there is a very great price to pay, gabriel. now you know, back then,
you didnt want to. every act of killing colors your soul a little more
black, no matter how righteous you thought yourself to be. it simply
matters not, for killing is the antithesis to life, against the light,
and you decided to follow that way. suffer the consequences now, gabriel,
every one of those you destroyed will haunt you. will there be
absolution? for you? for them?

now you continue on this path. the war path. eye for an eye. evil takes
pleasure in your actions and provokes you even more. they are proud
to be black, but are you? one thing is for certain: you cant go back
to innocence. no amount of power can undo what you did. will you
repent one day? or do you pray every night to be relieved of this
soultorturing pain to hear the laments of all you killed?

how shall you fight your enemy? do nothing while evil slaughters the
righteous day by day? go out and preach justice and peace and love?
win the war by rescuing souls? defending them with holy words and
signs and vows? or do you take up arms, just like the old times,
now guns instead of swords?

god is silent, gabriel.

Soulfire

Sovalkon’s ageless Eyes are hard to bear. His Aura too great, his Might
and Radiance so otherworldly that Reality bends around him, few can
remain in his Vicinity now, and fewer still endure his Voice, reaching
into every guilty Depth of Human Mortality.

But…

in this time of desperate need, when you cower in darkness, blood around
you, your heart pierced by demon claw, hungry eyes feasting on your
near-death, in all this absolute frailty, when hope is lost, the battle
over, sword, armor broken, ripped apart, and spawn of evil crawling
near, laughing black knights swinging their dreadful swords, ready
to sacrifice your fleeing soul to the black god, time can stand still.

silence.

if you truly wish to survive, if you are worthy, to defend the weak and
innocent once more, another chance to serve the light, a spirit of
endurance rising from within your indomitable soul, sovalkon will hear
you. nothing holds him back, no power can intervene, and even omun,
the lord of all death, will bow to this fateful occurrence.

believe. rise. look into your soul. pray.

sovalkon guides your soul, forgiving and gentle. suffering he knows,
a mortal’s fate. defeat he can remember, but also victory. your wounds
heal. you spirit becomes strong. in your soul, a fire builds, a power
of light, a strength of many souls, a blessing of good, the eternal
counterbalance to evil. it is your turn to free yourself, stand
upright and defiant, burning away all darkness with your soulfire.

the soul harbors infinite power. but power can and always will be
matched with power. sovalkon feels the eternal scale of balance.
to destroy it, means, the end times have begun. tread lightly, mortal,
use this might, that very well could burn you to the ground, carefully.
and speak to others of hope. and true miracle. look around, all
demon spawn is dead, all enemies burnt to ashes. you stand, you
are victorious. without weapon. only with the power of your own soul.

Oracle

should I send you out, Lord Toshrak, amongst them, you would find what
they hold dear, their darkest secrets, kept in most safe vaults, but
open to the Oracle of Evil, which is impartial, but never just. weakness
uncovered, Darkness brought alive, who is the best Judge of Malice,
but Malice itself?

invulnerable to all Seduction, immune to any Allure, you are a stately
Demigod of a Power, far away, in Worlds few could find, maybe fewer
still want to explore. here, you can be a stern Judge, but never like
the blind Ones, deep in Hartoum, who are just, balanced and wise.
No Wisdom is to be sought here, Lord Toshrak, only the Uncovering of
the Machinations of Depravity, which is all you now seek.

so many close their eyes, are charmed by Beauty and Illusion. not you,
great Wanderer, you look past it, with cold, dead Eyes, see shivering
Souls, weak, strong even, but always flawed. Its the Amount of Flaws,
you discern, and grin with evil Smile, knowing that everyone burns in
their own Hell. There is no Way you show, but Silence, and the utter
Fact that nobody can be a Lord in Hell, but you.

no Inquisitor can be as deadly as you are, for Precision guides your
Blade, infinitely fine, to pierce every Heart, to shatter every frail
Soul, and the Mightiest tremble, for you come to them, speaking the
Oracle of Evil, which is always Truth, for that is the Beauty of it:
there shall be no Lie, but hard, painful, everlasting Reality.

your Ways became strange, Toshrak, you are now an empty Husk, a God
still, but hollow inside, a Puppet of a true Power, a Name in some
Worlds, forgotten in others, a Shaper in the Past, but never more
than a Shadow. but still, your Steps can be heard in that ancient
Fortress you call your Home, where you reside, alone, thoughtful,
and only leave to be the Oracle of Evil to those, who earn this
dreadful Gift.

Cleaners

julio garcia. mexican drug cartel.
viktoria soloshenko. russian mafia.
akira fukoshawa. japanese yakuza.
stephen craig. american CIA.
ahmed al’farra. arab al quaeda.
shong ting wao. chinese triads.
mario canuzzi. italian ndrangheta.
atieno mugabe. african death squadron.

the strings of life are intertwined. some things change, in a very
special way. some oily black souls are dragged out of hell. an
epiphany of light. a wondrous magic. amongst slaughter, murder,
perversion, death, evil, walks a white hope. unbelievers are taught
what hides behind the walls of reality. some called him angel,
others alien, he shall be neither to all of you.

in a night full of change and repentance, tears come to the eyes of
every hardenend warrior. all sins are counted and laid bare. souls
are purged by the light. they hear his name, they listen, even if
they deny it all. gabriel white teaches them the error of their ways.
they try to fight him, they cannot. in horror they watch and surrender.

reality is broken. truth is told. ancient is everything mr. white has
to tell. secrets of darkness and light. and mortal souls, fighting
since the beginning of mankind. holy symbols. a god watching all
things. and evil lurking below. and above. and in the souls of all
who were chosen. now is your time to be created anew.

your sins cannot be undone. your darkness will always accompany you.
and hell awaits you at the end. but one promise i do have, if you
follow my prophecy: there shall be hope, salvation at the end, after
a very long cycle of suffering, cleansing and prayer. i offer freedom.
but it comes at a price: become my warriors. and fight all you have been.