PainGazer

By Nathaniel Baney

Four Epitaphs, Four users... Signing an oath in blood amid death – the four Epitaph Users have each signed a contract. The contract differential depends upon the itinerant value that is placed upon each soul. The four Epitaphs are: The Epitaph of Heart, The Epitaph of Mind, The Epitaph of Life, and the Epitaph of Soul.

Within these tomes, those of the modern world can see into the lives of past wielders. A boy, by the name of Kevin Wenon discusses the future of mankind with his grandmother Frela, as a mysterious book shines upon his spirit. Many events unfold as the lives of those in an 'Ancient World' are influenced and manipulated for purposes of both good and evil.

"This tome harbors the life of another from beginning to end, it holds the power to change the future through the decisions we make. The words that we write within it can influence that life, but not necessarily change it. Consider it a gateway to another dimension. "

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098308148

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Nathaniel Baney

© 2020 Nathaniel Baney All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 978-1-09830-813-1 eBook 978-1-09830-814-8

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 8.2

Chapter 8.3

Chapter 8.4

Chapter 9

Chapter 9.2

Chapter 9.3

Chapter 10

Chapter 10.2

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 13.2

Chapter 13.3

Chapter 13.4

Chapter 14

Chapter 14.2

Chapter 14.3

Chapter 14.4

Chapter 15

Chapter 15.2

Chapter 15.3

Chapter 15.4

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Chapter 16.2

Chapter 17

Chapter 17.2

Chapter 18

Chapter 18.2

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 20.2

Chapter 20.3

Chapter 21

Chapter 21.2

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Time... the only thing that keeps an alignment within the world’s aspectation of reality, it is a constant-- a reminder of what may come, a destiny that is inevitable... that of an accountability. Time is used like a tool to live life in our own way, it is the one thing that cannot change on this world. Yet, it is the only thing keeping me from peace.

There are those who wish to escape from the chains that tie down our souls to what we call ‘reality’. Walking a lonely path can save you from corruption, thus keeping you pure and full of wonder although what wonder’s may come might just bring you that much closer to that corruption. Corruption is like a double-edged blade held at the dullest end-- grip it tightly and you feel nothing, but the longer you hold onto it the deeper it cuts.

With my own death among these timeless halls-- I wander within my own epitaph. What is timeless is an obstruction of nature, infinence cannot attain peace. Life, but a gift, can be given and taken away with or without your own influence. There is only so much you wish to know, know too much and you wish to revert back to the days in which you knew of so little as you wondered. That wonder, that curiousity-- was your drive.

Without a wonder, without a drive-- there is nothing worth seeking. The answers are obvious and layed out before you with no purpose in being hasty in any way, as you merely observe life and it’s repetitive pattern re-emerge and cycle amongst itself. Surely you wish to rejoin that life, and forget all of which you learned just so that you could be happy once more.

From here, from these empty halls I can access my entire life (by choice) starting from the moment of death all the way back unto birth. Everyone has an epitaph, but their souls (unlike mine) aren’t so thoroughly encased within them. I left with a memory of how I were right before I died and not just a memory-- a relived process of thought.

To hide yourself from the world, holding in all your regrets. Communication starts to seem difficult due to hostility in the air and you have the need to want to forget...

The window is full of a haze that has filled my mind with curiosities that I can’t follow. Is it a woman I see dancing amist the rain as if it were made of gold? Is it a shield of hope to wish for someone blinded by the sorrows of a world such as this? It’s hard to fathom-- being weary from a self indulged method of artificial sight just to see the world in a decent way. Is it real beauty that I see or is it some sort of illusion?

What’s that? Surely my mind plays tricks no longer... the fog clears from the road and a bright light pierces through the window. The rain no longer makes a sound. Fearing that my mind may be unstable-- I fix my gaze back onto the wonder of the girl who no longer seems joyful... actually she is no longer moving what-so-ever. I slowly stepped closer to the glass and matched her gaze.

She stared into my eyes like she knew me for the longest time, and began to turn her head slowly to the side. Another brisk flash of light, surely it was the storm, although you could hear nothing... not even the sound of your own breath.

Her eyes grew bolder the longer I fixed myself upon them... another flash of light... this one within her eyes. I watched as a horrifiying terror began to brace upon her expression. The barrel of a gun gleamed within her sight!

The glass shatters and the form of the girl dissipates with the reflection. The ground grows larger as I am inevitably attracted to it. Blood as my pillow, I lay in wait yet again feeling nothing. Is there a question that is answerable, why even design the formula if there is nothing to become of it?

Why is it that I am still here? My own end obviously plotted out right in front of me and I reacted so slowly to it. I could watch as the trickles of the rain pounded and absorbed against the blood from my own veins. It was a mortal wound (right in the back of the head) and the fall was from a second story height.

The only thing keeping you still is your wish to see through the ground. a voice whispered above me. My heart that stopped beating began to beat again in that instant. A hand lightly grazed along the length of my spine. A reflection of a beautiful face amidst the blood that slowly lowered toward my withered body...

Young one... if pain is the only form of reason that you had in which to live then did you ever really live at all? she spoke solemnly to my ear very closely.

I’m beginning to think that nothing is real... that nothing seems to have meaning anymore. Even now, when nothing else could possibly go wrong in this world, when nothing else could happen...

To feel that you haven’t lived enough, that’s only normal. Every one seeks a destiny, but no one know’s what may become of them. the voice comforted, To walk the path of wisdom is to walk the path of purity. The fact that you seek understanding instead of control means that you don’t need the misguidance of what fell minds try to imbue within you.

In my entire lifetime as a living being, I have never received such encouragement before. I’m afraid that reality has utterly left me in a state of shock, when reality no longer abides by the rules of mortality... you would all but have to be a god than to be in question.

"Is there any reason to push forward when there’s nothing left?"

"Dry your tears, the pain is the only thing that’s keeping you here" a voice unknown echoes in the distance.

"...Yet you still keep pushing forward? Blissfully bleeding at a sign of redemption, a pittance saved only by those who are blinded to see the truth..."

Rei wiped the blood from her mouth, gripping it in her hand as if it were the last she allowed herself to bleed, forcing herself to stand up to her own will... heeding the voice’s call.

Can’t you see this world is over? Nothing but darkness exists before you, your friends have died by your own hand. Yet you blame fate and continue to fight...

Preying upon the weakness inside her to see the truth, she can’t turn back the decisions she had to make.

Open your eyes... the heart of the world needs you to fight. There is only one path, you must take it. Agony be thy name, live on... don’t stop now...

The world was consumed in darkness. The bounderies of the horizon were no longer present, the world was a mass of decay. In a wasteland of blood and debree, pain was the only thing left. Only one lived at the world’s end, she gazed upon the gateway to the alternating sky. Her eyes reflected the twistedness of what was before her.

Four orbs of emassing light began to rotate in the sky. Every second the orbs brightened and grew nearer to the horizon... like giant stars falling to the earth. Her vision began to blur, struggling to stay awake. The mass of light continued to consume the sky and it seemed that nothing else even existed. She was suffering her last breath, crucified by the earth itself. She hung suspended in the air and a giant steel beam pierced through the center of her being. She screamed in pain as she began to pull herself upward.

Chapter 1

Rona stacks the reports (from her students) on her desk evenly despite the sloppiness of nearly all of the students’ presentation. Her class just simply didn’t really care how they performed in her presence. But what does it matter really? Her class was just for extra credit, or so some of them thought. Her art was her life, and teaching it was her choice to make. She stood up in an effort to see some quality in her students.

Alright everyone, I know that most of you failed in your assignment yesterday... so today we will be starting fresh. the class remained silent. That’s right, were going over it all again right from the beginning!

Awwww... the whole group moaned.

Okay what was Pablo Picasso’s date of birth? she pointed at the smartboard at his expanded image. Only one hand among the adolesents popped up.

You in the back- she pointed.

The moment seemed to still in the air as the kid slowly lowered his hand, he was the only student in the classroom wearing a black hoodie on a 90-degree hot summer day. His head was down and you couldn’t see the expression on his face.

October twenty-fifth, eighteen-eighty one, I-

That’s correct. she interrupted.

I wasn’t finished, he implied I know when he died too... I was there.

That comment she revered as odd to come from a student in the eighth grade, especially one that she hadn’t yet seen before.

Hah! she blurted now that’s funny, finally a joker in the classroom! (she hadn’t heard a joke all week).

Oddly, the class remained silent. Not a cough nor a snicker from a single student. Her eyes began to water and she began to blink at a substantial rate. She stopped and whiped her eyes as the environment around her began to lose it’s pigment. The room became bright and faded to a grey.

"What the hell is happening?" Rona thought. She looked around to see that time had been temporarily stilled, nothing remained but this black entity. Sitting in the chair that the brilliant student spoke from.

Now that I have your complete attention... It spoke in a child’s voice there is something I would like to discuss with you.

The room started to shake violently, and the students just sat and stared blankly- glued to their chairs as if they were frozen in time. The glass surrounding the four corners of the room shattered and the entity smiled as Rona screamed. A bone chilling ring emitted through her mind as her ears began to bleed. Her body starts to shake and twitch; the fear has set in her mind that something terrible was happening.

Being in a school of thugs and a crime rate higher than she gets paid, many of the teachers had some form of protection. She pulls out a pistol from her purse and points it toward the entity and fires at it in an attempt to destroy it entirely. With each shot the entity moves from right to left and each bullet goes straight through it-- finding the targets behind it. Realizing that she just killed the students in her fitted rage, she drops the gun and falls to her knees in front of a splattered mess of bodies stained in horror.

Now there is something you must do for me... It hissed.

There is a tome that I wish for you to find for me, it is here but I cannot touch it. It would be the oldest tome that you have here. It’s cover is made of stone. If you do this for me then I will protect you from the consequences of this world. It exhales and surveys the bodies in front of her You have but one choice, obey me or all that has transpired will be left in the hands of your people!

The spirit dissipated into a gust of wind streaming from an open window, and the dull color of grey in the room bled into a hint of red. The world had once again became clear, and what lied before her was mass of hindering confusion. The screams of the children delluded her mind, and what was left of the classroom focused their attention towards her.

Her only choice was to run without time to wait: the law was on it’s way and she knew it. Thinking was out of the question now and so was self-pity. She had to fight to survive, she opened the drafty window and climbed out of the single-story classroom. Running down the street... she made her way to the only library full of books in town that the tome may be found.

The building stood at the corner of Yew road and very few people seemed to be of attendance. She hastily approaches the door followed by three armed enforcers. She delivers a fierce kick to the door and dashes passed the walk-way where the attendant stood.

Whaaaaa... a woman screams in the distance of the room.

A fiendish black hand grips the rim of the librarians torso and began to lift her into the air. Three men burst through the glass paned doors and begin to fire at Rona. The bullets halt at a wall of human mesh as the spirit forces the held woman within the line of fire. A hale of gore and limbs scatter across the tiled landscape. The hand marks an arrow (pointing to the end of the hallway) in the mass of blood on the floor.

I don’t know what this thing is but it won’t stop until I get the book that it is relentlessly looking for. thinks Rona, "It’s laying a path before me carved with revelant fear."

Rona quickly ran in the direction of the arrow as the entity began to savagly dispatch the men behind her. The further she went back the smaller the room became until the rows of books along side her disappeared completely. At the end of the hallway was a trap door that led to an underground room, it was bone-chilling and dark.

Lying on a pedestal was a large book made of stone with no writing on the front or back. As she opened the book a blinding light emitted from the pages and the book forced itself open-- levitating above her. A gust of wind pulls shut the trap-door and the entity appears beside her.

This tome is called ‘ The Epitaph of the Living ‘. It controls the life of another form in a distant time. I want you to open the book to the first page and begin to read it: word for word. I need you to be my voice in the matter, for what lies beyond is a world in our control: a world of the past that exists through our eyes. If you do this for me...I will give you knowledge.

The room surrounding Rona fades from view and the only thing that was left for her to see was darkness. The entity envelopes and enters her body and the only thing she could fathom was the very empty pages of the book... and she begins to read:

-- The pounding rain echoed throughout the city and the streets were empty and grey. There stood an entrance to the graveyard of Ettenmire at the center of the city. A red fog enveloped the morbid grounds, only a feint sound that could be heard over the storm, and in the distance... at the furthest end was a lone woman. --

As Rona continues to read, the vision becomes thus clearer within her mind:

-- The woman sat sinking in the mud, howling in despair, yanking desperately at the chains that bound her to a demonic statue. Her cries went unheard by mortal ears... but served as a call for the demons that krept alongst the tombstones. A creature with a womanly figure, but with long bladed fangs and dismembered legs crawled it’s way toward her.

YOU DID THIS TO ME! Give me back my life... she began to yell blankly into the shadows at the demon Shikazen! I WANT...YOUR LIFE!!!

The demon ripped off the collar of her shirt, exposing her elegant torso. She yanked wildy at the chains to ultimate no relief. It grabbed her by the shoulder blades and sank it’s fangs into her warm... Vibrant blood. It pulled and pulled as blood hozed the back of the statue. The vileness wrought by the creature was nothing compared to the sensation that it brought.

When it drank it’s fill... it left her hanging from the statue- drained. This woman suffered from an illness for which she could not die, trapped by the sorcery of the statue. Her neck began to heal... She opened her eyes to see herself knee-deep in blood... and out of the reflection a figure stood holding a book. --

Chapter 2

It’s about time for your morning cup of tea Ms. Alberry. states the assistant. He speaks in a cheery manor that would awaken any early bird with an exuberant afternoon, but for the night owls it would make them a little uncomfortable.

Hell man wanna keep it down? a young boy (about the age of fifteen) answers the housekeeper, Maybe she is still asleep or something but she’s locked the door... hey just leave the coffee on the table would ya?

Alright, just tell her I brought her some breakfast and tidied up for about an hour this morning.

Okay.

She leaves in her usual likeliness-- hip and cruising fast out the door. Little did Kevin know, that his grandmother was the keeper of something highly valueable... she has managed to hide it from the world for a lifetime-- but has yet to use it until a moment that were absolutely necessary.

...Knock Knock Knock...

Kevin knocks to no avail of an answer. He kneels down and looks through a keyhole with a golden frame. He sees her sitting in front of a window holding up a book blocking out the sun: it’s ultraviolet rays blinding out all but the shape of the tome.

Grandma... He spoke through the door.

Come on in hun, there is something I have to tell you. She replies quietly.

The lock on the handle just flips over and the door slowly pans itself open. The boy stands in the doorway and watches as the book begins to float towards the ceiling. He wanders up and pulls a chair over to where his grandmother is sitting from the other side of the room: continueing to marvel in amazement.

Not everyone gets this chance my son, but you are about to hear an epic tale. Not such an ordinary tale either, one of strife and heroes... and more importantly-- a tale that’s real this day.

This book tells of the past and perhaps the coming future as well. Of what you might hear might sound completely surreal, but don’t let the mysticism of the book fool you. The years that reside within might tell a tale of long ago, but there is no end... Frela adds as a topic towards their discussion.

Kevin Wenon was a curious boy and his grandmother’s words interest him beyond anything tying him to this world. He just knew that there was a reason and a story beyond all the darkness in this world.

If it tells of the past... how is there no end? We are here now aren’t we? How can it tell of the past and the future at once grandma?

Frela smiles at his quizzical look, she was proud of the honesty in her grandson.

Look.

She flips the pages from front to back: all were empty but the very first page. The beginning of the book dates back hundreds of years ago. The boy was astonished and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

This tome harbors the life of another from beginning to end, it holds the power to change the future through the decisions we make. The words that we write within it can influence that life, but not necessarily change it. Consider it a gateway to another dimension- a sort of portal that links this world to itself in an alternate timeline. Frela spoke fluently Certain pages represent the user’s will. They are mutable...with enough influence. But the words will write themselves, for the book records the life and memories of whoever holds it.

Kevin stands up with a blank look on his face. He pushed his chair aside and looks out the window. He feels a certain sourness in his stomach as if something was wrong.

You mean this book controls someone else’s life...don’t you?

The feelings of amazement disperse and the room fades to silence. Frela grips the base of her pen, and looks down into the blankness of the book. She knew deep inside that there was a reason for her grandson being involved. Maybe he is the purity that she needs to exemplify her cause.

Don’t let the nature of the tome dissapoint you child. Of course it is wrong to manipulate the life of another. I understand your concern. But you must understand, there are more books out there like this one...and if fallen into the wrong hands the concequences can change the world in horrible ways. Frela answered.

How many of these things are out there? Who else has the books? Kevin questions again.

Frela flipped the book shut and motions Kevin to follow her down the seemingly ill-lived stairs in the basement of her home. She flips the switch revealing many walls of shelves containing books galore (all of which were covered in cobwebs). She led him to a scroll rolled up on the edge of an old wooden table next to the wall.

I can tell you that there are four books out there in total she opened the scroll But what I cannot tell you is who possesses them. This scroll hails all the way back to the ancient times of man. We have long since forgotten lore and magic... and for our own safety- man replaced magic with technology. Here is the reason why it is all held within this-

Kevin interrupts, Okay okay, I get it-- can you just get on with the scroll? I really want to hear the story behind the book!

Ahem! she cleared her throat, Be patient boy, this knowledge has went unheard for many years.

She starts to read~

History of the World by: Edgar Sean Ulrich, 556 A.D.

The Syryation Scriptures

Death is the only cry from which they speak, and they are all bound by a loyal fate-- so are the words of the epitaphs. When technology and desire overwhelm the world, friends and foes gather their wisdom. Countless knights forged thier honor into a fine blade. A blade of which many wizards honed to carve words of magic into four forgotten tomes. Fate relied on these magical vessels to defend the world against it’s only belied evil.

However, once the evil from which they had caused had dispersed-- a war between the valiant and the mystic had returned. Spells of sinister proportions were thus cast upon the books and the blood of many warriors and magi stained the very pages that had once saved mankind. When all but four lie dead in a merciless slaughter: the true intentions of the epitaphs were awakened.

The four that lived were barely alive, each gasping for a breath of life. They each relied on the secrets within the epitaphs to live once again. From these four books a pact was made, althougheach tome had a different story to tell: they all withheld the same message- From the ashes new life is born, only to be bound in chains.

The rest of the scroll was too tattered to read. She rolls the scroll back up and ties a golden ribbon around it.

The book in our possession has been dubbed by scholars as an ‘Epitaph’ or eulogy of someones life before they died... only because it fortells of the users death. Frela informs.

Chapter 3

The Cantery Grove Insane Asylum

The walls echo with a sound unlike any other in this place, huh Chet?" states a security guard.

The place was so vast you could easily get lost, tainted and distilled in a mild color of grey. It seemed quite loud in the halls. Each room tempers the sound as if there were a barrier. Most of the patients were either screaming, chanting, or just staring off into no-where. For that very reason most of the guards tended to mingle

Reviews for PainGazer

[Baney Lucas · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

PainGazer will both capture you and adhere you to what's happening next!