Hi Guys,

This story is one I'm just beginning, but wanted to get some early feedback on the main characters and general feel of the story. Do you guys think its something worth persuing and going on with or not? Any critisism or comments you may have are highly welcome. and also feel free to pick apart my grammer...

Enjoy:

Cillian


Tall flames licked at the black sky as a small village burned, the silence of night broken only by the tormented screams of its people. The scent of scorched timber thickened the air, and black smoke filled the alleyways and streets of the village, blanketing it in darkness. Dead bodies crowded on the roads where they had been dragged, their blood staining a path to where they had been tortured and killed. They were slaughtered in droves, and few now remained alive.

A group of five attempted to flee to the stables to find horses to ride to safety on. A woman amongst them was carrying a small child, and two men each carried farm tools as crude weapons. The fourth was a scrawny teenager with sandy blond hair, and the fifth an old beggar.

They had almost reached their destination when the beggar had looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of their pursuer, and stumbled over a dead corpse and onto his chest. One of the men stopped to aid the beggar, but was pulled away by the other, for he would surely be caught if he stopped to help.

They continued up the glowing road, trying to ignore the screams of the beggar and the other dead bodies sprawled around them. They were now in site of the stables, the one building which was not alight, and they allowed themselves to briefly hope that they might make it. They were in earshot of the panicking horses, and luck seemed to be on their side until the stables unexplainably burst into fire. The steads screamed from the inside as they were engulfed in the inferno, and escape for the villagers now seemed impossible.

Dread pumped through each of their veins like a toxin, and they suddenly felt sick to their stomachs. They turned to face their dark assailant, who cackled harshly at the fate of his victims and the burning stables. He advanced on them without stopping, a smile of delight fixed on its horrible face.

The two men jumped forward in an attempt to defend the teenager and woman, brandishing their farm tools like they were great weapons. The fiend dispatched the first of the men with ease, the second one running at it like a fool. The daemon extended an open gauntlet and caught the farmer in the throat, lifting him of the ground easily with its tremendous strength. It dug its pointed claws into the sides of the man’s neck, the crimson blood flowing between the vile creature’s fingers.

“Run William!” The farmer gargled hopelessly. “Protect your mother and sister!”

The fiend twisted its claw, and with a snap the man’s body fell to the ground like a rag doll. The boy William witnessed in horror the creature lick his father’s blood from its finger, and smile in cruel glee displaying its pointed black fangs.

“Run, fool.” The daemon mocked in a terrible harsh voice.

William looked at the being in revulsion, its tall muscular build both intimidating and impressive. It wore black armour rimmed with red and encrusted with blood, this suite as much apart of this creature as skin was. Long curved barbs rose from each shoulder guard, and spikes and thorns lined the creature’s thighs and upper arms. And a row of razor blades also grew down the creature’s spine, each spike on its body ending with a red tip.

The teenager looked up into the daemon’s face, its ashen skin and black mouth contrasting to its horrid bloodshot eyes. Its pupils were nothing but slits. Its thin lips were still twisted into a patronising smirk; its black fangs long and pointed like that of a vampire. It had long black hair that was dreadlocked in places, and fell down as far as the creature’s waist.

In its right claw it gripped the hilt of a black bladed long sword, which curved in the middle and out again to create the shape of a teardrop. The edges of the blade turned red similarly to its armour, and runes burned crimson up the centre like flames. The golden hilt was fashioned like a naked woman tied by barbs, her head acting as the pommel and a look of terror fashioned onto her face.

William waited only a moment longer to take in the heinous daemon before he grabbed the hand of his mother and shot blindly between two burning houses to his right. The black smoke chocked both him and his mother as they raced to come out the other side, and Will could hear the maniacal laughter of the daemon behind him. He did not stop however, and when he came out of the smoke on the other side he turned up the hazy dirt road and ran towards the edges of the town with all the energy he could muster.

His mother, who was not a young woman, struggled to keep up with her son and hold onto her baby at the same time. She panted in exhaustion and desperation, urging herself onwards for the sake of her little girl.

“Come on!” William cried desperately. “We’re almost there!”

They reached the edges of the village, the houses less and further spaced apart here. All they had to do was make it into the forest and they’d be able to disappear within its ditches and boughs. They could leave their burning home behind and travel to Kandoria where they could make a new life in the capital of their country.

But these thoughts were quickly banished from Will’s mind as he heard the heavy footfalls of the daemon behind him, and his mother’s hand was ripped from his. He heard her screams echo after him as he ran, but he did not look back because he knew if he did he’d be killed as well.

“Run William!” He heard his mother cry. “Run! Run! RUN!”

Tears swept down the boy’s cheeks as he shot amongst the trees and into the darkness. His mother’s tortured screaming still followed him deep into the forest.



The daemon returned to the centre of the town, dragging the corpse of a woman by his right gauntlet and gripping a limp newborn in the other. He dumped both the bodies on top of a pile that was forming at the base of a defiled statue. A blood bath pooled at the bottom of the mound as the corpses slowly bled white.

The daemon stood back and sniffed at the air, breathing in the smell of blood and ash. The scent of destruction appeased him, as it would his master. He had done his job well.

Others of his kind soon joined him before long, two coming from his left and a third in front of him on the other side of the mound. They also sniffed the air in satisfaction, smiles of contentment showing on their dark faces.

“What took you so long, Cillian?” One of the others asked the daemon. “We’ve waited for you for some time now.”

“A group of them had tried to escape on steads.” Cillian replied, openly showing resentment for his questioner. “They were not to escape, Satan!”

“And did they?” Pushed Satan, his voice as harsh and mocking as Cillian’s was.

“One made it into the forest.” Cillian admitted coldly. “But he was of no consequence. I’m sure that our lord will be pleased enough with what we bring him. And besides, I could not have hunted him through the trees without disturbing more than what we came for!”

The others all looked at exchanged glances, but did not question Cillian any further.

The daemon then opened its hand with the palm facing the pile of bodies. It glowed red at the centre for a moment before the mound went up in flames like the houses around it. By morning there would be nothing left of the village but a waste of ash amongst the forest, and no sign of what had actually transpired here.

The daemons then each split off in different directions, and disappeared into the ash and flames.

very nice, im hoping this one doesnt und up in your 'uncompleted pile' with some of the other stories of yours ive read

lol, well what can I say?

when I'm done I'll post up the next chapter, but it may take a little longer than this one.

Okay, criticism time... :P

As I usually do, I'm going to go through where there are problems:
1. Paragraph Four, sentence one. You've said that the old man and the dead bodies were sreaming, how can the dead bodies be screaming?
2. Paragraph Thirteen, sentence two. You call William "Will", but everywhere else in the story you say "William". It is a bit out of place.
3. Paragraph Twenty, sentence three. It should say bloody bath, not blood bath. It doesn't sound right.

I'm actually surprise Cal, you're getting better at picking up on the smaller grammatical mistakes in you work (if they are even occuring at all).

Other that the very minor issues that I've mentioned above, your story was very, very good. It was definately one of (if not the) best pieces of work you've done (that I've read).

Thanks Lictenstein! :D

In reply:

1: Yeah I see what you mean. The dead bodies aren't screaming, its just worded badly.
2: Agreed.
3: Also agreed.

Cheers, Cal

a good opening the only thing I didnt like was one of the demons being called satan , not for any religious reasons but seems out of place for a lessor demon/ servant/ warrior. might be nick picking but there you go

Yeah, I do agree with Hardrainfalling on this one; it is the most "appropriate" name.

ah names! I was actually pulled to pieces by a friend about the names in a previous story I was working on. Called it a 'Wanky Vampire Story' because the main characters name was 'Drake'.

Anywho, the daemons names are each specificaly picked to either mean something or sound evil.

Cillian (pronounced: Silly-an), I believe means conflict, fighting or war. Something along those lines, sadly I lost the translation sheet.

Satan, as you know is the name of Christianities devil. Its just a nice evil name.

Hades, isn't mentioned yet but is the name of another daemon. The ancient greek god of the dead.

The fourth daemon I am yet to name. But you get the gist of what their names are supposed to represent.

Cheers for the replies, and more is to come in a couple of weeks maybe.

I still don't like the names. They are already too easily associated with existing evil entities, and your readers won't be able to get it through their heads that they arn't who their names would suggest. I would recommend that they get changed (Cillian is okay, but satan and Hades just arn't right) to something that won't be associated with an existing "thing".

its a good story and thanks for stealing my name ( Cillian )

can't wait to read more

um.... what happened to the rest of it.... and i know this is double posting

There is no more. Cillian was a once off short story.

this was another good one as well Cal