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Cursed For Eternity - The Story of Abaddon
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Cursed For Eternity - The Story of Abaddon
Posted on Tue Feb 27, 2007 6:00 amWARNING: Contains explicit and violent scenes as well as some vulgar language. Children are to be accompanied by an adult. Viewer discretion is advised.
What is a paladin? Is he not a champion of justice, an avatar of righteousness? What is he but a holy knight of God, with his sword and shield held high, protecting the innocent and destroying evil. I was a paladin, and sad to say, I was not any of this. Well, maybe once I was, but that was a long, long time ago… before what I had done… before the Scourge…
The Invasion of the Burning Legion had ended, we had all thought. Our newfound allies, the orcs were safely settled in Kalimdor, under the rule of their warchief Thrall. The Night Elves were trying to cleanse the evils done by the Legion. The World Tree was slowly growing again. We humans tried to settle back into Lordaeron despite the danger that the Lich King had. The natural order of things was back in place… Or so we thought.
A sudden outbreak of undead had suddenly started advancing from the north. We assumed it was an army sent by the Lich King. I was sent to help the army of humans to quell the surge. We advanced up north to the Plaguelands where the Undead Army was advancing from. Holding our ground, up in the mountains, we waited. Come noon, our enemy had not arrived. By dusk, the Undead had not come yet. I had started to become suspicious. In our waiting, we started to relax, assuming the Undead would probably advance at dawn, but I tried to stay the night awake, still anxious. Unfortunately, my eyes started to droop and I dozed to sleep. During the night someone suddenly screamed. I jolted awake. The devils had expected us and set a trap. Emerging from my tent, I was horrified to see hundreds of thousands of Undead advancing from behind us. They had already began slaughtering at will.
Quickly donning armor and grabbing my divine hammer, I rushed into battle alongside my comrades, swinging. With the light of God in me, I crushed my enemies’ bones into dust. I heard the sickening crunch of bones and the squelch of black, oozing blood as I slammed my hammer into them. The wall of opponents never seemed to cease. It was still dark then.
Soon, from the tops of emerging ghouls, I started seeing immense, hulking Abominations. Finally, a challenge. One was charging directly at me, flinging my comrades away with its giant arms. It tried to down me with its enormous meat hook of a hand but I evaded its attack and crushed its leg with my hammer. A vile breath spewed from it as it groaned. In frustration, it brought down it’s giant meat cleaver, only to miss and have it get stuck in the earth. Seeing my chance, I swung forth my hammer, catching it on the temple. Blood oozed from where I had hit it and from what I could see, a cracked skull. Swaying side to side after the impact, it finally fell, toppling on top of its comrades as well.
By sunrise, I could finally taste victory. After battling hordes of ghouls, necromancers and abominations, we could see that the enemy army had but a few waves left. During the battle, after cracking a ghoul down, something caught my attention. On the ground, within the advancing troop of Undead, was a sword. It was eerily beautiful to me and it drew me to it. It was a dark, azure blue and it had an power of aura that struck me. “I must have it.”, I muttered to myself as I forced my through with my hammer.
It was only a few feet away from where I stood, but so were the Undead. In desperation, I downed ghouls in front of me with a burst of Holy Light and lunged for the eerily beautiful sword. Grabbing it quickly, I got to my feet only to see four to five ghouls jump on top of me; biting scratching and pulling through the armor. Using all my might, I cut down a ghoul riding on my arm with my newfound sword. With an arm free, I pushed the rest off with my hammer. Not long after, we had won. We had lost plenty of comrades, some being dear friends of mine, but they had lost more. Some Undead had survived the battle but our riflemen took care of them. The wounds I had suffered were small cuts and bruises. Finally, I was going home.
After the battle, I immediately headed back to my village. Being a well-known paladin, if I say so myself, I was given a hero’s welcome. I had brought the sword I had found with me. For some strange reason, I could not take my eyes off it. It looked different all the other swords, I knew that, but I didn’t know what else this weapon possessed. However, not only would this sword capture me with its beauty, it capture soul with it…
I had transformed within the next few days, and I knew that everyone else noticed that. My skin had turned ghostly-white and crackling. Dark eyebags formed under my eyes and my eyeballs had sunk into their sockets. My hair no longer flowed but instead resembled gray straw. I no longer had the will to perform my paladin duties either. I hardly left my house, unless to buy meager rations. Whenever people would come to me for my blessing, I shooed them away angrily. My days were in a trance, like I was sleepwalking but with my mind fully awake. All the time spent at home, were also spent admiring my prized sword… Never remembering… Always hazy…
In a dreamlike trance, I found myself killing Rodick, my best friend… Oh yes, I killed him, for whatever reason I did not know at the time. Though I did not know the reason, I felt as if I needed to do it… Paladins do not kill helter skelter… But I did… I felt powerful… Powerful as I stuck it in him like a roast pig… I cackled as he squealed for mercy… My new blade pierced his stomach, I knew… Blood and greenish-yellow juices gushed from the wound, how delicious… His I eyes rolling back, I grabbed him by the hair. He was dead by then…
SNAP! Something in my mind snapped and I was awoken from my trance. Blinking my eyes I tried to make out where I was. I saw blood on my hands and it wasn’t mine. I looked up and jumped back in a mix of fear and shock. I couldn’t believe what had happened, I barely knew what had done. “Oh my God, this is horrible. What have I done?!”, I screamed in agony. “No, no, no… What’s happening to me?” Indeed it was horrible. Rodick’s limp corpse was stuck to the brick wall only by the sword, which penetrated both his flesh and the wall. Oozing from the wound was blood and digestive acids that ate through the flesh around it. His head had suffered some cuts and bruises from the fight beforehand. His eyes rolled back, almost comically but still morbid and sickening. Then I faintly remembered then why I dragged him out to kill him. He had bedded with Susan. Again, I fell into an almost angry trance, but still dreamlike…
Ahhh Susan… I loved you even if I wasn’t supposed to… Paladins aren’t supposed to have a bonding relationship, but I did… I loved you in secret, risking everything, and you still turned me down for the man I killed… My heart hangs heavy with hate… I can’t kill you… No, I musn’t but I need to… Oh, how I pity you, oh, I can’t do it… I am so alone… I am in hell and I’m dragging down with me into the inferno… Die…
SNAP! I feel dizzy once again and my head feels like it might explode. Why does it feel so hot? Things are blurred around me, it’s hard to see and hard to breathe. I grab my chest and I feel more damp blood, more than a while ago. I knew this blood was not mine. “God no! What did I do this time?” I cried.
I soon began to regain my sight and I saw what horrors I committed. In this dark room, I realized where I was: I was at Susan’s house. Tears started flowing down my cheeks as I knew what had happened. “Please, why have you cursed me with this… monstrosity of a weapon, Lord? No, no, no… please no…” I shouted but there was no reversing what had been done. Slumped against the wood walls, was a mangled Susan. Some of the seemingly endless number of wounds included a fatal slash just below her breast, a deep wound cutting her shoulder, cuts on her forehead, as well a brutal wound that nearly decapitated her arm completely. A pool of blood sits at where she lays and blood smears the walls. Oh Lord, I never had seen such a horrific scene in my life…
Now, I really couldn’t breathe. I sucked in some air but it was like breathing hot ash. I felt like dying; I knew the only way to end the pain was by committing suicide. I had killed my best friend and former lover, I knew there was no point living. “KILL ME NOW GOD!” I screamed, “Damn it, ever since I retrieved this sword, my life has been meaningless and I’ve been turned into a heartless monster. If God won’t end my life, I will!” Grabbing the sword, I turned it backwards, so that its tip faced me. I raised it up, about to finish the act… but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it even if I tried. Both my mind and body were so ready, but it felt as the sword had a mind of its own and wouldn’t do it. With my clothes dirty and stained with the blood of others, turns running down my face, I sheathed the sword and fled the scene. I ran as fast as I could from there and headed for the house. I collapsed into bed, hoping that in the morning, it would be okay and that it was all just a bad dream…
But it wasn’t. It was dawn and the sky was still painted violet and red with the sun still getting up. Light streamed through my window. I had hoped for the best and that it would all just go back to the beginning. I knew I was wrong, but it was the only way of keeping hope alive within me. Of course, like everything else, it all turned horribly wrong.
I got out of bed and I knew something was wrong because my body ached. I found bruises on my ribs and shoulder and cut, this time my own, on my forehead. I got out into the corridor and found more death. It was Mrs. Caulin, my neighbor, this time. Her body was sprawled out on the floor with a decapitating blow to her neck. Her head was at an awkward angle and a pool of blood rested at her head. I couldn’t help but puke right there on the floor.
Next to Mrs. Caulin was the body of someone who I loved very much, like a father. It was Sir Jorn, my Paladin Superior and dear friend. He had brought me in when I was a small orphan and took care of me. Now he was dead before me and because of me. I assumed it was he who had injured me. I found him lying facedown on the floor with a deep gash at his side and a stabwound on his back. His death was the emotional for me because he had done no evil against me. However, the most horrific death was to be found later on the platform of the staircase. It was Peter Caulin, Mrs. Caulin’s 8-year old son. He was sprawled on the platform with bruises crowning his head, probably from the fall from the stairs, but by then he was probably dead because blood smeared on the steps. Most disturbing of all, a deep slash cut across his small back while a long cut run the length of his spine, creating a horrifyingly morbid wound in the shape of a cross.
“Oh Lord. This is getting more and more disturbing. God! When will your torment end?” I screamed at the sky but no answer. Just then a bang at the door startled me. “Abaddon! You bastard, we know you’re in there! You bloody -bleep-… You killed Susan and Rodick! You killed my little Susan, you heartless freak! I swear by God, you will pay!”
BANG! Another bang at the door with their battering ram broke a hole in it. Frightened, I staggered back into his room and locked the door. I knew I had to turn myself in to atone for the sins I had just committed but there’s always something in a man’s heart that keeps you living even if you don’t want to any longer. BANG! The door broke down downstairs. My hand hand slowly drifted towards the sword on the bedside table. I could hear screams and angry shouts outside, “Holy Mother of God… This is worse than I thought. Mrs. Caulin… Peter… even Sir Jorn… Abaddon!” For the first time in my life, I tasted fear. Not because of the bloodthirsty mob, no, but afraid of being judged and tossed into eternal damnation. Unfortunately, I would not die, but I would still be damned…
CRASH! The mob, at least 15 – 20 men, broke through the bedroom door. My back was against the wall, figuratively and truly. My right hand was at the damned sword. “-bleep- Abaddon. You did all that?!”, spat the leader, Susan’s father. He was holding a torch. “I did.” I whispered shamefully. “Then may the devil have no mercy on your soul and may it be ripped from your body for all eternity in fiery pits of hell!” he cursed before lunging forward with his torch, while the rest of the mob tried to surge in the small room. He swung at my head but I ducked and out of instinct (or the sword, I do not know), I slashed at his hand with the sword. I screamed in agony and dropped his torch, which soon lit up the wooden floor of the room.
Holding his bloody hand, he cursed me once more before fleeing, “Burn in here and in hell Abaddon! May you know pain, torment and suffering even through the afterlife!” In fear, the mob fled the house, grabbing the corpses along with them. Just then, I felt a sharp thud on the back of my head and I fell to the floor, dropping the sword. Apparently, someone had managed to get a cheap shot on me before he left. I cackled maniacally as the room, and the house went ablaze. I fire soon spread onto my fallen body and I could smell burnt hair, charred flesh and boiling blood. I felt my skin crackling and burning. I could feel the searing heat peel the skin of my face and penetrate into my skull. I could feel, smell, see it all but pain was beyond me now. It still pained me but I could hardly care anymore if it hurt. I was finally dying… I was at peace but not at rest.
Many hours later, the fire had covered the house, burning it down to the ground. Nothing remained of it but smoking ash and timber. The sky suddenly grew dim as rain fell over the village. The rain fell on the mounds of ash, what was left of my home and it uncovered something, my body. As the drops of water washed away the ash covering my body, I fluttered awake. Shocked at how I was still alive I bellowed at the sky, “NOOOOO!!! Why couldn’t you have ended my torment, oh Lord?! Why can’t you just have released me from this mortal prison where I suffer deeply?” Suddenly, a cold voice roused me. It sounded familiar to me for some reason. The voice was cold and harsh, with every word sending a chill down my spine: “Because I put you in this prison.”
I was shocked at what the stranger had said. Flashes of anger, fear, anxiety, confusion and hate mixed within me. Not turning around, I stammered: “Wh-who are you?” “You know in your heart what evil stands behind you…” I turned around and jumped back at what I saw. Clad in full armor, before me, was the Lich King. White hair flowed down his head. His skin was cracked and ghastly white and eye bags had formed under his eyes. There was nothing in eyes but the blackness of his soul. He looked exactly as I did. “What?” I asked. “I was the one tormenting you Abaddon. The Lich King has been observing you since you were but a mere child. Just as the Lich King chose me, the former beloved son of Lordaeron, to be his body, I chose you to be my champion. The Lich King saw the similarities between you and me. Both of us chose the Path of Light, but he saw in our hearts, we both sought more power and glory. I granted you these as well.”
“No! I didn’t want… this.” I said. “I didn’t want to slaughter these people like animals!” Emotionlessly, he replied: “Ahhh… yes. It was a price to pay, but musn’t everyone pay a price before gaining what he desires? If you’re wondering, by the way, and I know that you are, I see it in your mind, I was the one who set up this entire ploy. I sent that army to draw you in and distract you. I even planned it for the sword to be left there so you could pick it up.” Anger suddenly burned in me. It was he who had done this to me and made me a monster! “You… how did you this? How could you do this?! The sword… what is it?” “It is a replica of my very sword, Frostmourne. Just as Arthas was cursed with its immense powers, so are you. Just as I killed my dear friend, Muradin, so have you killed those dear to you.”
I could stand it no longer. The rage within me had started to build and it finally had reached its point. I was near madness now. “You bastard!” I screamed. Lunging forward with nothing but my bare hands, here in the rain, I threw a punch at him. I knew it was foolish to think I could harm him but what else could I do aside from submit myself to his whims? Unfortunately, before I could even touch him, I suddenly recoiled backwards. My hand was smoking and twitching violently, and it hurt as if it was broken. As I lay there in the wet ash, in the falling rain, he broke into an evil laughter that pierced the depths of my soul and brought chills down my spine once more. “Pitiful mortal, there is nothing you can do. The strands of time, unfortunately or fortunately for you, had already woven your fate long before your conception. Now, for all eternity, with your own Frostmourne in hand, you shall lead my armies forth to wreak havoc on this world. No longer will there be fires in your heart, but the coldness of Northrend. No longer will there be happiness in your eyes, but despair in the eyes of your enemies. You will no longer be called Abaddon, Paladin, but be called, Abaddon, Lord of Avernus…”
With that, he vanished in the mist.
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Nice.. Nice.. Very nice..
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I already pre-ordered this figurine . So those who want to kick me out of DS.. You missed your chance. ;_;
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If you finihed the walkthrough of warcraft
RAIN OF CHAOS you will know this story.
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still..
*printing*
gonna read at home..
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isnt Abbadon the same as Arthas from the campaign same story told differently?
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if you read this story, you'll see them as two different persons... read on!
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silent_yet_deadly
My New Avatar R0kZMega Kill Posts: 823 Joined: 17 Dec 2006 Currently banned 0 gold
Nice Story I Commend It !
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This story sent chills down Bard Man's spine. Good work.
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A Whitney Griswold
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