Lost in The End Part 8: Nightmare at the Edge of Eternity
Posted Nov-13-2017 9:10 AM
Part 8: Nightmare at the Edge of Eternity
Nequit Dominum staggered and clawed his way up the red-clay hill, arriving at the top of the flat rocky plain—of which a ravine, massive and wide, built for a battle, lay visible in the distance deep beneath the Earth. The Demon stumbled and drunkenly walked around the plain, falling to his knees upon the rocks—making a crater. He looked down, steam blowing out of his theropod snout’s nostrils, as he stared around. The creature’s body was appearing to swell in size, gaining vast amounts of muscle per-second. His gills opened, despite there being no water in sight, as they released vast amounts of steam. Nequit Dominum’s eyes ran a cold, pure black, as his mouth widened abnormally in size. He opened his jaggedly-toothed mouth and breathed forth a torrent of steam, an attempt to cool-down his body temperature.
Dominum wondered however, in his cold-sentient mind, if this steam could be used to cause worse damage. He tried to worsen the pressure, but it alas did nothing, and he returned back to normal size, as he lacked the biological components to do what he wished—create a wave of fire. The sun was halfway high through the debris, beginning its slow trek down west, as pterosaurs flew around in a panic, and the wind blew the smell of rotting corpses from miles away. The yellow star however managed to cast a deep reddish-orange hue across the entirety of Mid-Western North America, which blended well with the red-clay on this flat rocky plain. Nequit Dominum made his way to the middle of the plateau, and very visibly, colossal cracks running through the middle of the plateau signaled that it was quite unstable.
The Unstoppable Lord furrowed his brow, his ribs expanding as he breathed in deeply, moving forth towards the cracks. The demon lowered his head and stared down at the cracks, an idea only a sentient killer could come up with running through his mind—lead The One That Got Away here, and destroy this plateau. But how could he accomplish this? He lacked the physical weight to devastate such a body of mass—but, maybe the force of two titans could do what he could not. Two titans—one a Tyrant King of All, and the other a Dinosaurian Pharaoh of the Desert—two beasts the Unstoppable Lord has met in combat before, and knows walk this continent. Dominum thought of way to lure the two to this very location, his red eyes bouncing back and forth, as he looked around with near-sentient thought. But, as though fate for a single moment agreed with him—the sounds of footsteps emanated through the Unstoppable Lord’s ears.
He tilted his head to the left, and took in the sight and smell of a fully grown, but severely injured Triceratops. Dominum turned his body to face the limping creature, who’s left hind-leg had been broken by falling debris, and half of his right horn had been broken off from unknown reasons. Nequit Dominum merely smirked, slowly walking over to the injured animal whom stared at him with pure fear; each step caused craters in the rock, as saliva dripped from his snout, and what had to have been ichor fell from his wounds.
Meanwhile, a quarter-mile north, the only tyrannosaur under eighteen-years of age still alive, Tyran, trekked forth. His dark-green feathers were dry and coarse from the dryness of this plain, and the rex slowly let his lower-jaw fall open—in dire need of water. He came to a stop within the desolate plain, a humid red-mist foreboding and ever-present, prohibiting sight of what lay in the distance. The rex raised his snout up high and breathed in deeply, taking in a variety of scents. He took in a wave of mud into his olfactory bulbs, deducing by the fishy smell of the mud, that there was a pond nearby on this rocky plateau.
The rex progressed slowly and ever so perfectly, each stride not wasting more energy than necessary, as he crept upon the pond. It was disgusting; the water was colored a dark-brown, with muddy patches on the surface, and a host of three dead Natlandia, bony fish, floated with the mud. The wild knows not of taste or texture, and Tyran, although a little more hesitant than usual, lowered his neck and opened his maw—taking in nearly all of the small ponds contents. He lifts his neck back up, swaying the tip of his tail left and right as he clamped his jaws down, crushing the rotting Natlandia with one bite and swallowed their flesh and the muddy water. It would suffice, for now.
The land was coated in an orangish-red glow for miles, but Tyran could not see for miles, as the thick red-mist of this plateau prevents long-distance sight. The young Tyrant King, cooed in stress and frustration, blinking profusely as small pebbles of rock and dust kicked up into his snout and eyes. The world remained like this for quite some time, before the rex finally began to see some kind of progress. An oasis was present in the near-distance, connected to a much larger forest; only a little more left to go, come on Tyran, just a little farther. The rex moved towards the oasis with haste, rocky dust painting his snout reddish-orange. The rex alas reached the patch of trees, grass, and water—relishing in both, finally able to taste real water.
As Tyran leaned in for a drink though, a colossal footstep emanated through his ears. The rex furrowed his brow, a cool breeze blowing through the trees and his feathers, as he looked to his left—towards the sound. A titanic shadow became visible at the edge of the oasis, re-entering the desert. Tyran twirled his body around to face the shadow, slightly lifting his lip up to snarl, as he bent down to a battle-ready stance. The red-mist prevented the sight of the shadow, but little did Tyran know, the beast he looked at was more worried about him than Tyran was of it.
The titanic shadow walked through the mist, coming to a halt at the edge of the oasis—a sight Tyran has never seen, filling his eyes. A colossal body, on all fours, connected to a flat sail-like spine, of which was covered in a thin-layer of fat to protect it. The being, at-least sixteen feet-tall on this all fours state, stared at Tyran—analyzing this predator, the first it had ever seen. Tyran backed up, hissing and chirping at the predator, of which did the same. The two continued this dance for five minutes, as they tried to reach the watery hole, but were too skittish about each-other to make the lunge.
Tyran prepared to make his final move towards the water, but the crocodile-esque creature had other plans, utilizing his best trick; the crocodile beast propelled off his front-legs, rising to his hind legs to stand at a titanic height of twenty-one feet tall. Tyran’s face of confidence shriveled into a gaze of fear, as he backed up, the form of this monstrous animal rising almost endlessly—casting a shadow across the rex’s entire body. The animal, a Spinosaurus known only by a name to be revered in history, Egypt, took his prize—a massive gulp of water from the watering hole. He glanced back at Tyran, making sure the rex was not going in for a strike, as he knew far too well that this animal could deal serious damage to his body.
The Dinosaurian Pharaoh, as is his prestige across the Atlantic, turned his body around and returned to a quadrupedal stance—walking off into the distance, the interesting smell of an herbivore on his olfactory bulbs. Tyran remained in his same stance, still in shock at what he just saw. He looked down, and shook his head—before moving on. The tyrannosaur ignored what just happened to him, turned around, and made his way deeper into the forest—believing himself to be on the right path towards Dhahabi’ard, the Golden-Land.
He trekked through the forest for what felt like hours, but was actually a mere forty-minutes, before arriving at the top of a hill. The rex looked around at his surroundings, taking in the view of more forest to the north, and a rocky-plateau to the north-east. But, Tyran had just been within a forest, and hiked through a rocky plateau? Was he feeling mere deja vu? Or, no. The final nail in the coffin was the small ravine positioned north-east, a destroyed log that Tyran used to progress across it still remained. It could not be, but it was, Tyran had backtracked.
The tyrannosaur began to get infuriated, and slammed his foot into the ground before throwing his neck up and bellowing a massive roar that echoed for twenty-miles. Hundreds of birds took to the skies all at once, blotting out a great deal of the sun with their forms and shadows—and small dinosaurs, Acheroraptors and Thescelosaurus, fled the scene all at once. The young rex regained his composure, although still enraged, and began to stomp back down the very hill he had been in fierce combat with Nequit Dominum on. Something…Was different though. A multi-colored glow illuminated the clearing where Nequit Dominum had been struck by a bolt of lightning, an abnormal multi-colored glow.
Tyran cautiously trekked to the base of the hill and the beginning of the clearing, and the sight of what was causing the glow filled his softball sized eyes. Eggs, fifty of them, coated with all the colors known to the Universe, lay like a nest from Hell. Tyran opened his mouth slightly, panting briefly, before closing his maw and breathing in the scent of the eggs. Unlike most Tyrannosaurus rex, who would in a blitz kill all opposing predator’s eggs, Tyran did not follow this ideology—either cause he was too young, or his parents had never taught him. But, something was off about these eggs, and it was not just their rainbow coloring; their smell reeked of something that did not breathe—little did Tyran know, that smell was one of a highly liquified Uranium.
Every now and again the eggs would ooze out a green liquid, which would seep deep into the ground. It did not catch him at first, but it became clear—these were the offspring of the Unstoppable Lord. Tyran raised his lip and growled at the nest of eggs that stood before him—the eggs shook, as though they were on the verge of cracking. Tyran knew even with his dinosaurian brain that if these were to merely hatch, it would mean the end of the world. The threat of fifty Nequit Dominums stood before the young Tyrant King—and he had only a single option, preserve the future. He charged.
Tyran charged the eggs, a loud boom from falling debris filling his ears in the back, as he slammed his foot into five of the eggs—crushing them as the green yolk covered his feet. The rex slammed his tail to the ground, and swept it in a circle, devastating twenty of the eggs—their shell rocketed into the nearby chasm. He roared a monstrous bellow, as he stomped his feet left and right back and forth with incredible speed, destroying another five of the eggs. He swung his tail around, slamming it into the ground and dragging it around the entirety of the clearing, as he demolished those that would become Unstoppable Lords with ease.
Twenty miles north towards the rocky plateau where Nequit Dominum was, he heard the sounds of Tyran—and the sounds of loud crushing. In an instant he knew what the young Tyrant was doing, but did not care—his mind assured that one of them would survive, and his hopes rested on the egg he placed at the base of the pond. All hopes rested on the young Tyrant King, as he destroyed another fifteen eggs.
Tyran twirled his tail around to stand, resting for a moment, panting heavily as he looked upon these destroyed grounds. Five eggs remained. The sun was setting in the distance, bringing in nightfall, as a warm rain captured this clearing, and the rocky plateau up north. Tyran’s feathers were wet and his body was drenched in water, as he stared at the remaining five eggs. At night their glow was even more prevalent, a bright green in the unlit forest—a bright green that should not exist, the Tyrant King had no hesitation, and charged. Tyran stomped towards the eggs, each step causing his thighs to flex and shake, revealing his lean muscularity—as he furrowed his tyrannosaur brow and released a roar of pure rage at the eggs.
He charged, each step deafening, as they grew ever closer. The Tyrant King prepared to smash the eggs, but before he could, a monstrous sound filled his ears. He stopped in his tracks, the warm rain skidding down his body to the ground, nourishing the grass, as Tyran looked up north-east towards the rocky plateau where the sound had come from. A volcano forty-miles away was erupting, spewing lava across its base and illuminating the night, as Tyran’s eyes focused on a nightmarish sight—Tyrance, the Tyrant King, was engaging that same creature from before, Egypt, the Dinosaurian Pharaoh, in heated battle on top the unstable plateau.
Tyran become bewildered by this fight, unable to avert his gaze from it—but his bewilderment would cost the future, as a single egg from the remaining five bunch began to move. The shell had lost most of its thickness, and was now see-through. Whatever was inside the egg began to look up at Tyran, seeing the destroyed shells of its siblings to its right and left; in an instant, the creature silently burst its small but sharply clawed hands out from the shell burrowing underneath the ground deep—vanishing from the battlefield.
Tyran’s eyes recounted the finale of Tyrance and Egypt’s battle, “Tyrance grabbed Egypt’s skull with his mouth and held on, creating un-bearable pain for the Spinosaurus. Egypt used his long arms and claw-pushed Tyrance off, but it was to no avail as Tyrance charged again and bit Egypt on his neck. Just as Tyrance prepared to finish Egypt, Egypt clawed and pushed Tyrance off. The two titans began to charge again, but just as they did this they felt the ground beneath their feet tremble. They quickly realized an earthquake was in the midst. Tyrance and Egypt dashed in separate directions evading the split in the ground due to the earthquake, the carcass they were fighting for was lost, but at-least they were alive.” Tyran longed to move up towards the plateau and aid Tyrance, but he remembered he still had a job to finish.
The rex looked back to his lower-left at the eggs, and closed his jaw, certain of what he had to do. The Tyrant King slammed his right foot into the ground just before the eggs, and dragged his tail to his right as he turned his body to his left—demolishing the remaining four eggs. He stood in the same spot, not bothering to look at the carnage, as the rain intensified—completely drenching his entire body. A bolt of lightning struck a mountain in the distance, as Tyran swung his tail to hover just in-front of his feet, and released a deafening bellow—his lips, neck and throat quivering from the force.
Part 8 end.
"An Empire of power for many, an Empire of hope for most."-MSE