Post by This Darkened Heart on May 30, 2009 6:00:56 GMT -5
With every action there is a consequence. Under the stars, tucked in a little valley there is a town of special beings. Thousands of years ago an extinct race invaded this peaceful little town and spilled society’s blood into the rusting carcass that was the degradation of the democracy. It was a massacre. First it was thought that the race of people wanted to open treaty negotiations. The people of the town were frightened of the mass power their predecessors were capable of. Before they could open any sort of peaceful decision everyone in the town simply… vanished.
This town I speak of holds many secrets and mysteries that many have come to try and solve. But their resolve is not matched with integrity. The resolve of those who had tried to fathom the unfathomable has been crushed. Many have gone insane from the sheer intensity they are faced with. The deprivation that follows is nothing short of routine. For, how could such a large civilization just disappear? No matter how unimportant they once were or how weak their economy was, a civilization just doesn’t vanish. It’s unnatural. There is no evidence that shows any form of conflict. There is no clean piece of evidence left behind to show where these beings went. No carcasses lay in the streets. Only the buildings of where they worked and slept remain. The life left standing has been erased. Only the withered husks of its history remain. Its roots of civilization holding firm as a sure mystery. Its leaves gone from its very essence.
The answer is simple. The race has not vanished from this earth. But they are a race of shape shifters. You see they have not gone but are watching from a different perspective. They call themselves Scylla. The Scyllan are a proud group of people who strive on nothing more than knowledge. They don’t use their powers to benefit evil. With that said, the reason they so suddenly left their town behind with no evidence of where they were headed, well, you can safely assume that those higher up on the food chain were hunting them. Bent on total extinction of the Scyllan. Those beings over the mountains that are never seen until they come to hunt. Nobody knows if the members of the Inamorata come to the hunt as a sport or want to make a name for themselves among their own people.
This town I speak of holds many secrets and mysteries that many have come to try and solve. But their resolve is not matched with integrity. The resolve of those who had tried to fathom the unfathomable has been crushed. Many have gone insane from the sheer intensity they are faced with. The deprivation that follows is nothing short of routine. For, how could such a large civilization just disappear? No matter how unimportant they once were or how weak their economy was, a civilization just doesn’t vanish. It’s unnatural. There is no evidence that shows any form of conflict. There is no clean piece of evidence left behind to show where these beings went. No carcasses lay in the streets. Only the buildings of where they worked and slept remain. The life left standing has been erased. Only the withered husks of its history remain. Its roots of civilization holding firm as a sure mystery. Its leaves gone from its very essence.
The answer is simple. The race has not vanished from this earth. But they are a race of shape shifters. You see they have not gone but are watching from a different perspective. They call themselves Scylla. The Scyllan are a proud group of people who strive on nothing more than knowledge. They don’t use their powers to benefit evil. With that said, the reason they so suddenly left their town behind with no evidence of where they were headed, well, you can safely assume that those higher up on the food chain were hunting them. Bent on total extinction of the Scyllan. Those beings over the mountains that are never seen until they come to hunt. Nobody knows if the members of the Inamorata come to the hunt as a sport or want to make a name for themselves among their own people.