EXERCISE 5 word challenge #33

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by October Knight, Jan 27, 2012.

  1. 5 Word Challenge
    Brought to you by: October Knight

    This challenge is to help strengthen your vocabulary. You'll learn new words and how to use them in roleplay posts, stories, poems, etc!

    1. Aim for a minimum of 1-3 paragraphs. If you'd like to write more than that, then go for it!
    2. Make sure you use each word in your post. Be as creative as you'd like.
    3. Style the writing like you would for a story. It can be describing a setting, or written from the perspective of a character. Whatever you feel would work the best.
    4. Have fun with this, of course!

    The Words:

    • Ablution (n.) - A washing or cleansing, especially of the body.
    • Aliment (n.) - That which nourishes.
    • Altruism (n.) - Benevolence to others on subordination to self-interest.
    • Antechamber (n.) - A waiting room for those who seek audience.
    • Antipodes (n.) A place or region on the opposite side of the earth.
  2. Today was the day that he had been waiting for. He had carried himself far, finding himself in the antipodes of the harsh and unforgiving world, Eris. His body ached with a bittersweet pain. A pain that told him that things soon would be over with. Pain that told him he had lost in such a sweet and lonely way. That he had become an aliment to something that lived inside of him, without any permission given.

    You could almost say he was cursed the minute he was born. Initially, he wasn't ill, he held no alien life inside of his body that sapped his life and relationships away. His curiosity, unfortunately, had exposed him to this bittersweet burden he now carried. Though he knew it would result in his own death, he smiled.

    Before he was allowed to visit the man that would finally end it all, he was forced to ceremonial ablution, which apparently would clean his 'cursed soul' and body. Blood, dirt and all sorts of things he really didn't want to know left his body, leaving it clean yet covered with scars that crawled up from his extremities. He felt new, but also lonely as he lost the burden of his filth. The burden of his journey, gone in an instant. Just like him. They even dressed him in white, an almost insulting gesture as he felt less than holy.

    The cloth laid heavy on his shoulders. Now clean, his skin practically that of a babe. Slowly and impersonally he was lead down a cold stone laden hall. His feet were bare. It was then that he realized how he had abused his feet, the only loyal thing he had. The one thing that kept moving despite it all. The one thing that was bringing him closer and closer to his long deserved death.

    He never was an evil man, quite far from it really. It's true he grew bitter and sad as time went, but when you know your death would be a slow and painful one, can you truly blame him? With time, this world had grown barren and brown. It lacked plant life, for some unknown reason to him. In replacement, religion sprang up with it's grasp quickly growing into something of a government, apparently entirely motivated by altruism. He doubted it. Time had transformed him into a broken and cynical man.

    His reaper, truly a figurehead for the organization, waited in his own throne. He could see through a window as he stood in the antechamber, waiting for the moment to fit the man's fancy. His heart ached, wanting it to be done with, Everything he had gone through up until now was quick. He wanted to curse the man for his idiotic traditions, but once he was about to charge in despite the guards, he was summoned.

    The room was beautiful, but he couldn't help but lie to himself and find it ugly and disgusting. He found blood filling his mouth, a cough leaking some out of his lip. He wiped it away with the apparently holy cloth, his own revenge for the wait. His body was slowly yet surely losing control. The final step in his losing battle. This parasite that acted like a cancer, cruely making his body betray him. Even his feet began to move slower. The man on the throne, the one he wanted to despise so much, quickly rushed over to the slowly becoming crippled man. He was rushed out to the holy garden, his place of rest.

    He knew his fate, and so did this holy man. His feet, his legs. His only friends began to change shape. Pain wrung through the body as darkness began to shoot up from his legs, as if it was a rash slowly spreading throughout his body. He wanted to have some dignity, but a scream escaped from his mouth as he fell to his knees. He was slowly yet surely losing his body. He nearly begged someone to just kill him, but they knew that couldn't be done. The holy man began to tear, he actually reached forward and kissed the cynical suffering man on the mouth. He muttered 'thank you, thank you so much. I'm so sorry.' He wanted to react to this kind affection, his last gift, but the pain rendered him unable to properly speak.

    As the pain continued to rise, he found the cynicism melting away within him. This pain that rendered him entirely helpless slowly transformed him into that of a child. The holy man reached forward, his arms wrapping around the man's shoulders. He looked so helpless and sad. His lungs began to solidify, he began to choke as no oxygen spread throughout his body anymore. Blood surely had gotten onto the holy man's robes, but he seemed to take that as something to be proud of. Not ashamed. Tears began to pour out of both of their eyes.

    It was done. The man had died and his body was now taken by a puppeteer, an alien creature that had won everything. And everyone actually was going to benefit from this man's suffering, that year of pain and slow betrayal.

    Tears fell heavily from the holy man's face. "It's done. It's done!" He shouted, now on his knees as well. In death, life was given to the planet all the same as it was given to the alien species. The previously doomed planet now had been saved from a cruel fate, all began of the seed planted within the mans body. His body had been transformed into practically a plot of soil, giving birth to life and hope. The planet wouldn't die out. It would survive.