ARTHEUS By: Chaos Kitsune An interesting little story I wrote. Though not finished, I think it was my best effort at writing. The story starts to go awry about 3/4ths through. Drudged this up form the depths of my HD two years later. Unlike Nightmares, you won't go mad from reading it, just temporarily insane! ------------------------------------------------ There. The world's gone. Now I rule." Artheus stands by his open window in his tower, strangely saddened over the outcome of his plan. "It worked, it worked perfectly." He sighs. "Then why am I sad?" He walks ten steps in the dark, dreary tower towards his chair. "King Artheus. Ruler of Earth. Purger of human life. . . so why am I sad?" He questions. "King Artheus," A large mechanical figure looms over the 20 year old king, "Here are the reports you asked about, the conditions of Earth after the bomb." The large robot hands the pile of papers to the new king. "Um, thank you Technor." He takes the papers in his small, shaking and sweaty hands, afraid of what he might read. Artheus lowers his eyes to the small print and begins to read. America--Purged Canada--Few life signs Europe--One half destroyed by ‘Purge' Bomb, other half in severely-- Artheus heaves the papers with all his might at the wall, not wanting to read the details. "I should be happy!! Why Aren't I!?!" He screams. He sighs again, heaving his chest, then calms down to barely a whisper. "Leave me Technor." "Yes sir." The robot calmly replies. It swiftly turns it's head, and walks out the large wooden doors. Artheus looks around his gloomy tower. He lifts his eyes to the ceiling, wires and tubes cross the ceiling in intricate patterns, while large pillars hold the weighting ceiling up. Slowly, he pans it, then moves downward, and forward. Large doors loom 20 feet from him, but seem as if they are in front of him. Two large stone lions stand at each side. Each one detailed to almost make them look as if they were real. He sniffs the air, but no smell comes to him except the smell of dust. He turns to his right, and sees his large window surrounded by a black frame. He looks up and out. The red and black sky fills his vision. "Not what I wanted." He slumps back, and bangs his fist on the controller in the right armrest of his chair. "THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED!!!" He cries, and cries alone. "This is not what I wanted." He sobs a few more times, letting his tears stain his already dust-stained shirt. "I'm so lonely." He cries. "Why?" He gets up from his chair and walks around it. Looking down, he barely notices through the layer of dust the black and white tiles checkering the floor. He plays a game he made up on that spot; hopping from one black tile to the other, trying not to land on the white ones. He plays, but within minutes boredom strikes with it's fiery claws again, and he sits back down in his chair. "I should've kept a friend." Artheus says to himself. A thought hits him. "Rest! That should clear my mind." He gets up, and walks towards the towering doors, and pushes on them with all his might. The wooden oak doors creak open slowly. "So tired." He mumbles, staggering towards his chamber. Artheus pushes on the smaller, but still large oak doors of his chamber room, then closes them. He walks over to his canopy bed, and crawls in. "Technor!" He yells. "Yes sir?" Technor opens the oak doors, and swiftly walks in. "What do you want sir?" "Play me some music Technor. I'm tired. You know what I like." He waves and points at the stereo player left from ‘old times'. Technor silently, as if a cat, walks to the stereo player, and clicks ‘play'. Soon, soft tones from the speakers echo throughout the chamber. One eyelid closes, then the other. Within minutes, the small, young king's asleep. ...................................... "You contemptuous fool!" A sombre figure screams at the small king. The figure steps from the obscure mist surrounding the king. ""Unjustified!! That's what it is! Who ever gave you the right to ‘purge' Earth! NOBODY!!" The figure scowls in a menacing voice, so gruff, so rough, but so sharp in it's words that it would be like a diamond on glass. "I did what was meant to be!! Look at what you people did to Earth!" Artheus screams back in defense. "You will suffer for your crimes!" The figure foretells. It steps farther from the mist, revealing it to be Artheus's father. "I. . . DISOWN YOU!" He points, and glares with a look that could kill. He lifts his hand, and slowly makes a fist in the air, closing his fingers, grasping mist. It seemed to Artheus as if his father's eyes glowed a dark red. Artheus's father recedes back into the mist, but only to be replaced by his mother. "Mom!" He tries to runs to hug her, but is held back by some invisible force. His mother sheds a tear, and turns her face from him. "Why did you? Why DID YOU?! Now you've done it." She lets out a small cry, then steps back. "MOM!" Artheus tries to move again, but cannot. He starts to feel woozy, nauseous, diffused. . . voices surround him, all scorning with resentment, and pure hatred can be felt all around. "YOU WILL PAY." "RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. YOU WILL PAY." "NO, NO, NO!! I DID THE RIGHT THING!!" He screams at he voices. The remarks stop, and he stands alone, alone in the pitch darkness. "Payyyyy. . . " A voice whispers. "NO!!" Artheus broods and sulks. "I DID THE RIGHT THING!!" A wave of fear is felt around him, then sorrow, then guilt. "PAY!!!!" A figure jumps from the darkness, and pulls out a blade. He lands on Artheus, and takes aim, and brings the blade down. . . ..................................................... "NOO!!!!!" Artheus wakes up in a fright, and a flood of sweat, sitting up straight in his red sheeted bed with a canopy top. He shudders, then lets out a cry. "WHY, WHY, WHY?!?!!?" He turns his head, and cries in his pillow all night. .................................................... Artheus walks around the large piece of scrap metal laying on the ground. He looks up, and sees his tower-his castle-his home. Then turns back and concentrates on the road. He looks forward, but sees only miles of land, with a layer of red sky on top, even though it's morning, and the sky is usually blue. . . or was usually blue. Few trees scatter the land. "What have I done?" He says to himself. After two miles of walk, and two miles of arguing with himself about if he did the right thing, he finds a red, with white stripe hovercraft, still in good shape, laying on the side of the road. Not a soul in sight to claim it but Artheus. "I don't care for this future I've brought now. He looks around, and sees the destruction he's caused. "I want to get away from it all." He straightens the hovercraft up, and hops in with basket of provisions in one arm. Artheus looks around for the keys, and finds them on the sunshade that hangs above him. He fiddles with the keys in his hands, until he finds the right one, and puts it into the socket, and turns it. A small roar of the engine signifies Artheus that it's running, and in still good condition. He revs the motor, and speeds off down the road. ....................................................... For hours Artheus traverses the land. He had reached the outskirts of a forest unknown to him. "What is this? Why is there a thicket patch here? There should be no forests at all." He clicks the glove compartment open, searches through the clutter of papers for a map. Finding one, he unfolds, and traces his path "It is a detail map," He says to himself, "but no forest appears on it at this location. Strange." He throws the map to his side, starts up the hovercraft, and glides into the forest, unaware of what he will be facing. ...................................................... Artheus looks around him,, but sees green in every direction, even above him. Shafts of light pour from the sun between the branches of the trees, and slides off the leaves onto the ground, creating glitters on the wet grass. Artheus blocks a ray with his hand while passing over it, wishing he hadn't needed to leave the hovercraft behind due to the thickness of the forest. It would be faster and easier, Artheus thinks. "I wonder if anybody tried to take shelter here?" Artheus pushes his way through the bushes until he reaches a path before him. "Someone was here." He say to himself while climbing out of the bushes, and taking the path. "And I'm going to find out." ........................................ More hours pass as Artheus walks along the dirt path. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he sees a very large heavy oak tree. It has a hole on the bottom part, on the ground, and from the hole light is being emitted. Artheus walks toward it, and enters. "Welcome Artheus. . ." "Huh??? How do you know my name???" Artheus squints at the shadow in the corner of the room before him. Dumbfounded at how such a large room could be inside a tree, even if the tree's large. It's about as big as a living room. It even looks like a living room from a log cabin. A furnished log cabin. It has hallways which Artheus guesses leads to other parts of this "magical" home. He looks around, admiring the coziness of the place. A fireplace sit to his right, with a roaring fire. To his left is two rocking chairs, and a book on top of one. The walls are very finely done, with a few pictures hanging that Artheus doesn't recognize. "I know who you are. Leave it at that. Come! Sit!" The voice is a male voice, with a softness like a dove. An old voice, but kind and gentle. A hand protrudes the dark corner, and shows him a chair. Artheus sits down. From the view point of the chair, Artheus sees the man. "You look familiar!" Artheus says. The old man laughs a jolly laugh. "They all say that!" He has a heavy brown/white beard, with a white mustache. He is a chubby-but not fat. Similar to Santa Claus, but different in ways. He is slimmer, does not wear a red coat and pants, but, instead wears a soft brown. On top of his light brown hair is a small hat. "Who are you??" Artheus asks again. "Hmm. . ." He hums. "Well, You could say I am your. . . guardian! Let us leave it at that, shall we? Now, let us get on with business. Do you know why you are here?" Artheus shakes his head. "I just found this place. It isn't on any map." " Well, that's understandable. Let me explain. You are here, to put it simply, to have another chance!" "Pardon?" Artheus raises one eyebrow in a quizzical look. "You do not like what you have done. I can see that. You wish with all your heart to change what you have done, am I right?" Artheus nods solemnly. "I can help you! I can give you a second chance! One wish!" Artheus raises his head. "How????" "Simple. But you must have faith in me." "I do! If you can give you what you say!" "I can! But only if you want it. You must be sure!" "I AM sure! PLEASE! Help me! I want a second chance to right what I did!" He begs. "Alright. Stand up, and come here." Artheus stands up, and walks toward the man. The man points towards a long dark hallway. "Walk through there. It will lead you." "Lead me? Lead me where???" "Do you trust me?" "Yes." "Then go!" Artheus nods, and starts towards the hallway. "Thank you." "Your welcome." Artheus heads through the hallway. "Everyone deserves a second chance when they know they made a mistake." The old man whispers while Artheus leaves. ................................................................... Artheus is blinded for a few seconds while his eyes adjust to the outside light. As soon as he could see clearly, astonishment hit him. Even in one glimpse, he can see what's so astonishing; the world he knew-he destroyed. . . it's normal. Artheus takes a few steps forward, then starts running through the grass field outside of the thicket whence he came. He looks up, and sees he city, bright and colourful, and alive. It's as if he never did what he did. His wish came true! Artheus smiles for the first time in a long time. ................................................................... Walking through the bust streets, unnoticed by his fellow pedestrians due to his cloak that he bought recently him, he heads straight for his home. Soon, he reaches his home. He stands at the two large wooden front door. Two men stand at each side of them. "Halt!" One guard yells. "Who goes there?" He tightens his grip on his stun bow, and glares at Artheus. "That is for me to know, and you to find out." Artheus knows they would never believe he is the king. "Last chance. Who goes there?" The guard sets his feet into a stance, ready to pounce on Artheus like a cat on a mouse. "Me." Artheus gives up easily, and throws his hood off. The guards give each other quizzical looks, then turn back to Artheus.