EXERCISE Theme Song #13

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by Celest, May 25, 2012.

  1. Music touches people in different ways. Many people enjoy listening to music for inspiration, and others simply listen to it to relax. Some songs tell stories while others allow you to make your own story.

    Your challenge:

    Listen to the song above then take a minute or two to think about it.

    Write out a scene to this song; make this song your scenes theme song.

    Let me know what you see when you listen to this music.

    ((Sorry about this one being later >.< it will not happen again ))
  2. "Ela kah namum atum atum ele kah namum" the chorus chanted in an almost melodic tune. Their words carried swiftly by the wind as a group of black robbed man stood in a circle, their hands outstretched forward. The cult was hidden in a basement at an abandoned prison. Despite there being candles inside of the circle the room was dark and damp. "We ask for eternal immortality and riches" an older member gravely said while stepping forward inside the circle, holding a dagger above his head. "With this sacrifice we would gain what is asked for" with one quick motion of the deadly dagger, the man slice the palm of his hand and got to his knees, making an imprint on the floor.

    Within a couple of seconds a black mass shoot up from the ground and a head with horns was formed but not a body. "Who dares to awake me? Who dares to command control?" the creature, with a low glass breaking voice asked while looking around at the black robbed men with red pupil-less eyes. Finally, the glare stopped at the man in front of the circle. "It was you mundane?" the demon barked and then laughed making the light of the candles flicker and the walls to tremble."You all will pay for summoning me!" without another word the demon split into 6 shadows and entered the 6 bodies of cult.
  3. The banging of the drums was loud. Everything that had a beating heart moved out of the area as quickly as possible. This was the work of the Witch Doctor who hand made those drums, the instruments that were played with using bones. His legs tightly wrapped around the drums as the song grew more intense with much more feeling to it, the power of his spell growing. All he did while drumming was chant, chant in sync with the beat and keep himself in rhythm. What did he plan to do?...He planned to unleash a hex..A curse if you will on the people of the village for not heeding his word and just calling his visions and magics nothing more than a hoax..a scam..a fake. FAKE? They should know better than that..It's alright he'll show the entire village.

    The force of the bones hitting the tops of the drums seemed like enough to break them. The chanting was growing louder and more vile sounding, the last part of the hex was the most important...It was where it would all come together and make the big impact. The Witch Doctor slammed his drums one last time then let out a petrifying screech. While he had his mouth opened, dozens of purple blobs that had no definite shape and were leaving behind drops of purple blood while rushing out and scattering all over the Witch Doctor. Satisfied with his work he pointed one of the bones in the direction of the village and let loose a sinister diabolical laugh.

    "Now..Go my children..Show dem...What it means to be a hoax, scam, and fake..When dey don't feel so good and dey wonder why? Oh why?..Because...they thought it would never 'appen to dem."
  4. The moment the ramp touched the ground, hundreds of soldiers opened fire, literally tearing the space shuttle apart. Kinetic projectiles were launched, beams drilled into the hull of the vessel, rays passed through the thick armour and exotic particles reacted with the air, swallowing the machine in a ball of colourful fire. The explosion should have consumed everything that may have been hiding in the belly of the shuttle, but ignoring all logic, there she stood, her figure not even wavering amongst the raging flames.

    She was clad in thick, angular heavy armour, its blue contrasting sharply against the mass of fire. Her hair was long and blonde, reaching all the way down to her back, a blue headband keeping it in its place. Her eyes were blue, and in them was an expression of infinite sorrow combined with acceptance, as if she accepted her inevitable death. Her right hand clutched an impossibly huge, wide-bladed claymore, which had ancient writings running all over its body, forming seemingly incomprehensible sentences. Her face, while not clearly visible amongst the flames, was of a young woman not suited for battle, but her pose as that of a warrior, a veteran of thousand and one battles.

    “I am sorry,” she whispered under her breath as she raised her claymore, her face reflecting the bottomless pain in her soul, and then with a single strike, she created a wind that subdued the flames, then rushed to the soldiers, past the barricades, past the armoured vehicles, defying all laws of physics as it mercifully cut off the soldiers’ heads. Tears rolled down the young woman’s cheek as if she was weeping for the dead, but she still continued striking with her claymore, turning the landing zone into a slaughterhouse.

    Reinforcements poured in from all directions, yet the woman cared not about the countless weapons impacting her armour, which simply ricocheted off the angular surface. She simply started to advance towards a point, while cutting down anyone in her way as she continued to cry, her eyes turning red. Seeing this unstoppable juggernaut, the soldier’s morale slowly broke down, but just when they were about to give up, a tank lowered its gun, targeting the young woman, then launched its projectile.

    The bullet went so fast that it ionised the air, the massive amount of kinetic energy creating a literal whirlwind around it, but when it struck the woman, its massive force simply dissipated on an invisible force field. The soldiers silently watched as the simply huge projectile slowly fell to the ground, and then, panic broke out. Only the most battle-hardened veterans could keep their calm, and order support in the form of airstrikes or artillery fire. They quickly evacuated the area around the young woman, then watched as the air transformed into plasma by the explosions.

    A thousand colours painted the sky, yet as the smoke cleared, the young woman was still there, unharmed, standing in the centre of a gigantic crater. This time, the panic was unstoppable, and not even the most skilled officers could get their troops in line as the young woman advanced in the chaos, cutting down everyone who dared to stand in her way. Regardless of her cold-blooded massacre, tears still kept welling up in the woman’s eyes, rolling down on her cheeks, sometimes cutting her breath short. By the time she reached her target, the deepest reaches of a secret laboratory, her eyes were almost completely blood her, and her cheeks puffed up to a painful level.

    The scientists did not even attempt to stand in her way as she continued towards the most well-guarded room in the facility. Slaughtering the guards and blasting the door open with a single strike, she calmly went to the two little girls in the middle of the room, who were secured to an operating table, their eyes filled with tears and crystal clear fear. However, instead of killing them, the young woman impaled her claymore into the ground, then snapped the restraints of the two girls with her bare hands, drawing them into an almost motherly hug.

    “It is all right,” she said to the surprised girls. “We are here to rescue you,” said the woman, then an invisible force literally ripped off the ceiling of the facility. The girls looked up to the skies, their eyes widening as they saw a fleet of black and red spaceships slowly descend towards the surface, their weapons setting fire to the heavens.
  5. 'Run. Just run faster damn it.' The horse ran as fast as it could over the expansive desert, the sky beating down heat hammering light onto the desolate surroundings. As the horses hooves slammed down into the soft, loose sand the sound of gunfire rang out behind. The roar of engines, the clamour of riotous voices,the sound of automatic gunfire tearing out only muzzled by the slow thud of the bullets punching into the sand beneath, The horse reared as it's rider tried to steady himself. They were shooting at him, so he would shoot back. Pulling the handgun from it's holster on his chest he clutched his prize tightly to himself, twisting out and looking over his right shoulder to aim at them. Trusting completely in the horse's sense of guidance. His head wrap hampered his view as he tried to line up shots, the bouncing of the horse not helping the affair. Still he needed to do something lest he be killed.

    Firing off a few shots, he turned back realizing that this was a hopeless venture, he simply pressed his heels into the spuurs of the horse and set it off faster over the dunes before him. Bullets whizzed past his ears. The snapping crack, came past the horse's ear, it bucked reared up on two legs and this time his pursuers made sure to hit their mark. A cold rush of searing hot pain shot through him. a round from the rifle hand punched through his shoulder, loosing his grip on the horse he tumbled, crashing into the sand. Cursing inwardly he scrambled to his feet pressing his palm over the wound to stem the bleeding. Now he was in trouble, serious trouble. falling over the crest of the dune he rolled down the other side unable to stop himself. The sand slipped into his wound grinding against it'self within the cavity.

    Scurrying to his feet he ducked as he heard the roar of that huge engine, it surged full of power and the roar was incredible. Ducking at the last moment the huge vehicle leapt over the dune soaring clean over him and sliding to a drifting stop a few yards away from him. Now he was finished. he hand no where to go. His treasure still in his hands, he contemplated it, thinking he would only use it if he had to. One of the group got out fo the car still barking orders, the leader most probably.
    "So your the big man who thinks he can escape us? Give us some credit Mr. Anima, All we want is the treasure, give us that and we might let you live." Yeah but it was that mmight that was giving him the will not too. He dragged himself to his feet, taking slow strained breaths be brought himself to his feet. The leader of the group brought a smug grin onto his face beneath that dark beard, his eyes narrowing to slits.

    As the treasure hunter brought himself to his feet he thought to himself 'Yeah, keep smiling. We'll see whose the last one smiling.' With that the treasure hunter lifted the artifact from his chest, and pressed down on the small egg like golden object, sending out a pulse of pure energy. Knocking back and paralysing anyone who was not holding the artefact or the treasure hunter. Climbing into the vehicle and pressing his hand over his wound, the artefact needed charging before it's next use. The treasure hunter drove off leaving the paralysed fools behind, to die out there in the desert. Smiling to himself he glanced down at the prize which had saved his life.
  6. The fire leapt up to the sky as the males and females danced around it. they needed rain, badly and they hoped their gods would give it to them. The sacrifices for this ceremony would be the chiefs only daughter and eldest son. They would meet by the cliff when the moon reached its peak they would jump into the churning waters below. It was their fate to obey the tribe, and if they refused they would be killed. No one in the tribe cared as long as their ritual was completed. If one thing went wrong they would blame it on the naysayers and cast them out.

    A few more hours and it would be time. Their dancing quickened then slowed, following the movements of the drums and the sound of the voices being raised up to the skies. It was time. The eldest son was the first to emerge from the hut followed closely by his sister. They were adorned with white, she in barely anything but sheer, soft fabric. Her important parts covered to protect her from dangerous eyes. The son was the same only he held a staff in one had while his sisters rested in the other. They both wore cloaks of white with beads, feathers, and symbols of their duty.

    Walking to the cliff’s edge the could taste the salt and felt the spray of the sea as it crashed against the side of the cliff. His sisters hand tightened on his as they drew closer. His heart beat in his chest following the sound of the drums while his sisters heart beat harder but calmer, following instead the whipping wind and crashing tide. The drum beat quickened and the moment they stepped off the edge the music completely stopped. Silence swarmed around the now motionless people until they thought they’d heard the splash of the two sacrifices.