The Shattered Throne
If anyone has an idea for a better title, please post under the discussion of the story.
Thanks
Episode 1
Notes: anything in quotes is people talking, and in this, the first episode most of the talking is the narrator. Please feel free toapply whatever actors voice you wish for the narrator. Anything in parentheses is sound FX, visual fx, camera movements, and my own, annoying personal comments, which will almost certainly detract from what putrid storyline there already is, and make it something much more foul. (sorry that was so long) Also, shortly after starting to write this episode, I realized that trying to write it just like a screen play makes it sound like garbage... well, more so than it already did. So to describe what's on the screen, I'll just write it like it's a book, and if there's something really weird going on, I'll describe what the camera is doing/looking at to the best of my ability.
(at the beginning of the movie, the second paragraph of the intro in the 40k rule book is put on a blank screen line by line.... you know the part that ends with, no matter what happens, you will not be missed.)
"The city had turned Grey."
"The filth, the dust, and the vacant gazes of people I once knew had robbed my home of both its warmth, and its chill, leaving nothing, but the sound of shuffling feet, the sound of rain, the sound of guns. As with every inch of my planet, war had come, taken what it could from us, and left, leaving a dull emptiness inside the souls of everyone who surrounded me."
"But my soul burned."
"The forces of that dam traitor swept through my home, burning, killing, laughing, as they did it. The forces of emperor, beloved by all, may grace rest him on his golden throne. (that part whispered, like an often repeated catechism that one would get used to saying if they were in hiding). Could do nothing against the freakish hordes of what used to be their proud brothers, as they were cut down and mutilated. My brother, (sobbing) my own... dam... BROTHER!!! (more sobbing) Left the emperors light and killed my father in order to placate those traitors."(will fix this over dramatic piece of $h!t when i can figure out how)
"When there was nothing left to destroy, nothing left to burn, nothing left to steal, the hordes of the traitor left my streets. Taking with them what had once been my home, leaving nothing but cold walls, and empty souls."
"But my soul burned"
(The oil fires burn in drums of corroded iron, casting pacing shadows on the walls of broken homes. People huddle around them, trying to regain the warmth that was stolen from them with the arrival of the traitor legions, the warmth that was provided by food, shelter, family, and friends. A child in ragged clothes walks down the cratered boulevards, glaring with undisguised contempt at those huddled around their fires. He tries to make eye contact with the people he walks by, but their wide, staring gazes are fixed on the gesturing fingers of flame, or wander aimlessly, sliding over him without pausing, searching the crumbling buildings for specters they will never find. He walks by wordlessly. His gaze hardens)
(new scene, the camera shows the kid walking down the street, stopping in front of a building with a gaping hole where there once was a door. Now replaced by a feeble, frayed piece of cloth. The child walks in, gazing in unrestrained anger at the remnants of the hab (habitation) building. He walks around, the sound of his footstep echoing loudly in the emptiness. He gathers what few possessions remain and starts to leave the ruined building. He stops before the exit, his eyes screwed up in a vain attempt to suppress tears. He turns, making the sign of the aquila (I was wondering what this looked like for a while, and apparently, it's just making a bird with your hands that's supposed to look like the imperial eagle... weird))
"Goodbye" he says, "May you find your way to the emperor's side, and find sanctuary in his sanctity"
(With those last words, he leaves, and begins to walk away. He walks for days, striding through the crowded, shell shocked streets of the lower hives, stopping only to hear the vox reports of the still raging fights between the cultist of chaos, and the forces of the Imperium, both sides reeling from the loss of their commander. After walking for eight days, the sound of explosions, and screaming grows in the distance, and the Vox reports on the retreat of traitor forces. The people surrounding the public voxes begin to cheer and celebrate, hugging, kissing, and crying in their joy. The boy, who had overheard the voxcast, glared in contempt of the ignorance of the people around him, foolishly celebrating their imminent destruction. Several of the celebrating men, now aware of the one person not celebrating the news of the destruction of chaos forces, strode purposefully over to him.)
" 'The gak is your problem eh?!" one of them shouted, grabbing hold of the boy's shirt, and lifting him into the air. " You sad to see those traitor bastards die?! Your probably gakking one of them you little $h!t!"
(At that last comment, the child's eyes widened, then narrowed, twin suns of anger boring into the soul of the man holding him. )
" You idiot." he rasped " You will all die, All OF YOU!!!"
(Taken aback slightly, some of the men stare nervously at each other, while the one keeping the boy up glared up at him )
"The gak are you talking about huh!? Didn't you hear the Voxcast? The dam traitors are retreating!"
(The boy continues glaring, but his gaze softens a little in pity)
"And where do you think they're going to retreat to? As they continue to lose ground, they will continue descend towards the depths of Terra, trying to escape the wrath of the emperor. In a matter of hours, this place will be overrun by traitors, and anything in their way will be cut down."
(By this time, the immediate area around the boy is absolutely quiet, his statement underscored by the sound war, which had grown noticeably louder over the last few moments.)
(then the screaming starts. A wave of dirty, screaming bodies comes roiling down the street, trampling the fallen, as those in the rear are mowed down by a rain of las fire, and bolter rounds. The people in the streets add to this mass, forming eddies of those disoriented by the sudden fighting that are soon smashed by the oncoming wave of refugees.)
(In the confusion, the men who had previously accosted the child dash into the closest building, dumping the boy in the street as they run. Almost before he touches the ground, the child is up and running after them, ducking low with practiced ease, and taking cover inside the building.)
(There he sees strangers, scared, and huddled in the corners of the rooms, some of them tending to their wounded. Some of them sported crude weapons, chunks of concrete, metal pipes, and antiquated guns. There they waited for their death. The child stares slack-jawed at the naivety of them.)
"What in the emperor's gakking name are you gakking doing?! RUN!!! If you want to help the wounded, kill them and RUN!!! There are worse things than death at the hands of traitors!!!"
(Suddenly the men from before come crashing down the stairs. They have rifles stamped with the imperial seal. They ran around the room, screaming at people to get up. One of the men came running up to the boy, his eyes full of fear and anger, his knuckles white as he grasped his rifle.)
"What should we do?!" he gasps, his eyes darting around the room. his eyes widening in fear as he looks at the doorway and whips his gun up to his shoulder.
(His head explodes as a bolt round crashes into his skull. The jerking, headless corpse begins to fall, firing wildly in his death throes. The boy turns around in time to see a figure in the door way, his armor adorned with spikes, and a star with eight points, crumple as he is shot to death by the other men in the room.)
(The boy dashes by the headless corpse, stooping as he runs to pick up the man's rifle, shouting for the people around him to flee up the stairs. As shots start to fly in from the doorway, the panicked mass of people mill around in confusion, pushing, shoving, falling, dying. Those who can run up the stairs, and those who cannot try to flee. The child continues up the stairs, at the head of several dozen refugees.)
(he dashes to a window, desperately looking for some route of escape, as more cultists start to enter the buildings lining the streets. A hand grabs his shoulder. Without thought he spins around, kicking out as he does, toppling his would-be attacker, and bringing his rifle to bear on his foe. A man, dressed in freshly torn clothes, stares up at him in controlled panic, blood seeping from the side of his head. The boy takes his foot off the man's chest, and raises his rifle as he helps the man up. The man points up the stairs gesturing for the boy to follow, he stops though, as the boy hands him his rifle, and pull out from his waistband a large pistol, caked in dried blood.)
(The boy looks at the man, his eyes burning with determination, anger, and fear, and gestures for him to lead.)
(After several hours of running, and hiding, the boy, the man, and the scores of refugees that fled with them, come to a halt, their breathing ragged. The sound of fighting had stopped for the most part, as the forces of the deposed Warmaster prepared to meet the onslaught of the loyalists.)
(The man holds out his hand as he tries to regain his breath.) "Lebo" (is all he says as the boy takes it) "Reficul" (the boy replies. With introductions over, they look out over the people that have followed them, and consider their fate)
(Sorry, I took a really long time to finish this, so I guess I'll try to come out with a new episode about once every two weeks)
cheese
Also, please post comments, suggestions, anything. I've got two people who like it and would like to hear from more of you, even if all you say is something like "YOU SUCK!!!!" 'cause that will at least give me the pleasure of plotting revenge on you while I go to sleep. (^-^)
Episode 2
Episode 2(thanks for reading)
(The night of the underhive of Terra brings little respite to the refugees. Though the sound of battle had faded to the rumble of the advancing imperial line, the sound of small arms fire has been replaced with the twisted, melodic, gibbering chants of chaos, denying the limitations of the human voice as they snake out from the streets and alleyways, entwining themselves around the souls of those who had fled with Reficul.)
(The moans and the whimpering cries of the refugees are quiet as Reficul sits at the lip of the roof of an abandoned hab. The crunch of gravel alerts him to the presence of another, and, instincts and adrenalin taking over, he spins, aiming his stubby pistol at the chest of his would be attacker. Before he can even pull the trigger, the gun is grabbed, one finger tightly jamming itself between the trigger and the handle, before the gun is ripped out of Reficul's hand. Casually twirling the heavy pistol in one hand, rifle pointed at Reficul's chest, Lebo smiled impudently down at the boy. Handing the gun back to Reficul, he sat down with a tired sigh and looked over at the glaring boy.)
"Those reflexes will get you killed" Lebo says.
" 'The gak are you talking about? I almost killed you!" the boy mutters not meeting Lebo's eyes.
(Lebo smiled again, and snorted at the boy's arrogance) "listen" he said, his tone softening " If you had killed me, you wold have started a panic, the people we brought with us would have starting going crazy, and those dam traitors would be on us in moments." Lebo pretended not to see as the boy's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
" The hell would I care for? I'd be able to get aw-"
(the punch tokes him full in the side of the face, sending him sprawling in the rubble, his pistol sliding away from his hand.)
(Darkness took him.)
(Seconds later, his eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, he tries to sit up, and is defeated by the spinning ground. A hand swims into focus, and he grabs it, pulling himself up and standing shakily. Reficul looks up, and Lebo's face stared down at him, shadows of menace darkening his eyes)
"Don't grox$h!t yourself" (he says as he half carried, half dragged Reficul over to the rest of the refugees.) "Schneider! Daryl!" he barks tersely, throwing his rifle at one of the men who came running " You're on duty. Keep those eyes peeled or else I'll peel them for you!".
(The men laugh nervously, their eyes flicking from the staggering boy, to Lebo, to the glow of fires that had sprung up around the city. Their eye's hardening, they stalk to the lip of the hab, the set of their shoulders, the slow steady sweeps of their heads, exuding determination.)
(Lebo followed Reficul's gaze, seeing how his eye's, now completely devoid of the glazed quality that the concussion had given them, took in the bravery of the two new sentries.)
"Those men will fight until their last breath, they will never give, never surrender, and never despair. They're fighting to prot-"
"I don't have any gakking family, I don't have anything like that to protect!" Reficul whispers savagely
"Neither do they." Lebo says quietly, depositing Reficul on a metal crate, before sitting beside him. "They fight for honor, they fight for the memories of their dead children, their dead wives, and for the Emperor" ... "why do you fight?"
Reficul stiffens, and turns his head, his eyes boring into Lebo. Lebo blinks, taken aback by the hate in the boy's eyes.
"That" he says, quivering with anger, "Is none of your gakking buisness"
