• I could hear the clocks all around me. Cliclking and clacking, ticking and tocking, binging and bonging..........
    My body felt numb, not just with pain and exhaustion, but with a sensation I had never thought I would have to feel: Failure.
    I Failed. We had lost. He had won.
    Now it was only a matter of time.......
    I struggled to pick myself up, only managing to prop mayself against a rough stone wall. the clocks seemed to grow louder as I became more awake.
    What had happen? What went wrong? The attack was simple; The armies would clash, the perfect distraction to allow me and my party to sneak into the Black Lord's castle and do away with him. Then the army would be a headless snake, and we would have freedom.....
    Why couldnt I remember? What happened to my friends, my party? Were they dead? Imprisoned? Had they escapped? I prayed that it was the later, i prayed to whatever gods were out there, in all of the realms, that they were safe and away.....
    I started to bind the wounds on my arms. I was a warrior, a ventran. Some called me a killer. Others called me a savior. I've been fighting this war for all my life, as my father did and his father before he. A war for 1,000 years.......
    This was it. This was the end. If I died here, it would mean he had won. If my army fell, it meant he had won. If he kills one innocent woman or one innocent child, he had won. It was because the Dark Lord had no feeling of guilt or remorse. He was a shell of a once great man, created of greed, hatred, and anger. He once was our protector, better that any king ever was and more powerful than any army ever raised. But now.....
    Now I was stuck here alone. Now I would have to finish this task myself, even if it was to kill me.
    The door to the room I was locked in opened slowly on rusted hingdes. A figure in all black entered, purple energy flowing off of his robes and trailing out behind him like some exoensive silk scarf. His face was ashen and his skin was taunt to his body. I thouoght that if he moved a certain way, his skin would rip, especially by his long, thin nose. He gripped his Onix staff as he leaned against it, peering down at me through his hood.
    "Your Kara, I persume. I knew your father once, though he hadnt mentioned he had a daughter or else I would have killed you sooner." His voice was deep and scrathcy, as if he hadnt drank any water for a very long time.
    "You killed my father, you b*****d." (Sorry about the language, Its nor so bad though, bacuse its also the name of a sword sweatdrop )
    The Dark Lord let out a quiet chukle.
    "Well, that doesnt matter much to the here and the now, now does it? Do you know why I have all these clocks in this room, Kara?"
    I didnt answer, just meerly glared at him from my postion on the floor.
    " They are all going to go off at a certain time; that time is the end of the world. They say its comming, you know, and quite soon at that. When these clocks go off, i'll know" The Dark Lord turned to face me.
    "They were all based on you, you know. You and that clockwork heart of yours. Can you feel it slowing? I bet you can. It was a simple matter really. One good Rust spell and you've got a slow killer, slower and more painful that any poison I could administer. In the long run, You could say i'm doing you a favor by killing you now."
    "What kind of sadistic idea is that?" I croaked. My chest felt...heavy, painfully so.
    He put on a sly smirk that would make a dragon cringe.
    "Why, i'm saving you from the end of the world."
    The pain in my chest turned into a spreading burn. It pumped through my heart and coursed through my vein, rushing into my head. I screamed, my voice rasped and tinged with tears of pure agony. It carried out of the tower window, echoing back to me, as if the entire realms were screaming along.
    Before I died, just before I met the Grim Reaper himself. I realized something. Heros dont always win. Just because your the underdog doesnt mean your going to win. Your just as easy to kill as anyyone else, but it helps a little when you heart is metal and sometimes you belch smoke. What I did have was hope. Hope that things could be different in the end. I guess thats what killed me in the end too.
    As i died, I heard something that made my half failing mind spin.
    I heard the chiming of thousands of clocks.