Pointy Things:2004
Pointy Things
Lightning cracked: Lighting the sky: Brilliant: Silver: Blue: Yellow:
Virgil: Squats amongst boulders: Peering out across the rock-strewn landscape:
Crawlies dream of being: Pointy things protruding from upper lips:
Clothing clings to rotting flesh: Time marches on:
One creature lusts the soul: The others yearn the flesh:
Bats circle in the crackling sky above: Honing in on Virgil’s scent: For the Master:
His would be minions marching through the night: The never-ending mission to feed:
The Army of the Dead turned out to be a bad idea:
The Count: Thought they might come in useful: In his quest to rule the world:
They proved an uncontrollable mob: Impossible to threaten:
Hunger of the most gluttonous locust: All living flesh devoured in its path:
Leaving The Count: Little human candidates for conversion:
Virgil: Just the man he needs on his side:
To master the Army: Who blindly followed: Never heeded:
Virgil: Reserved for special treatment: The Count: Not going to allow:
Eternal gnawing of the Army of the Dead: Will not get in the way:
Apprehension: Conversion of a right hand man:
Racing thoughts: Drive Virgil’s feet forward: Boulder hopping slick rocks:
Between lightning strikes: Thunder claps: The Count: Pursues:
Modern day Nosferatu: Minus hook-nose: Dismounts his supple steed:
Suckling a nip: Before setting off on foot: Across the moraine:
The Live Undead: Trudging some distance behind: Along the road:
Soon to lose itself: In the boulder field of the moraine:
The moraine of Black Glacier: Zombies aren’t built for mountain travel:
The storm clears: Full moon rises in above The Weaver: Piercing the starlit sky:
Virgil: Knows of a cave: Nestled in The Weaver:
Above the moraine: Above the glacier: Tucked into the Bergshrund:
Above the mother of all crevasses: At the bottom: The Count: Bothering no one:
Virgil: Thinks of ambushing The Count: The Army will not it make above the glacier:
Virgil: Always flees with his pointy things:
Crampons: Sharpened wooden handled ice axe:
Below The Count: His full arsenal: Pointy things:
Virgil: Reaches the foot of Black Glacier: Ever retreating as the globe warms:
Truly a Black Glacier: As much rock and dirt as ice:
Deadly slick spots: Dropping into deep and dark crevasses:
Bottomless: Un-escapable:
Virgil: Gingerly wrestles: Pointy things from pack:
Clamps on crampons: Loops the ice axe strap around his wrist:
Glances back down the moraine: Spies the figure of The Count:
Nimbly plying the boulder field below: Gaining rapidly:
The Army has reached the edge of the moraine: They descend on The Count’s steed:
Zombie Power Bar: Final screams echo: Off the walls of The Weaver’s Cirque:
A mere hors d’ oeuvre: Ravenous mob never satisfied: Eternal curse of the Live Undead:
Questing out onto the moraine: Driven by the search for fresh flesh: Sniffed on the wind:
Boulder hopping skills lacking: Zombie March into boulder field:
Slipping and sliding: A necral pratfall of manic proportions:
Cries of frustration: Brainless zombies wallowing in their mire:
Virgil: Can’t help but giggle at the spectacle: The Count: Pauses and looks back:
Evil laugh echoes through the cirque: Event of utmost humor:
Emotion zombies no longer enjoyed: Bonding man and Vampire for a fleeting moment:
A truce in the never-ending war: But a brief truce: Nosferatu: Pursues the chase:
A few intrepid zombies: Navigating the moraine: Successfully:
Three Quarters down: One Quarter left to battle the glacier itself: Minus pointy things:
Virgil: Heads up glacier: Slow going: Terrain no zombie can navigate:
The Count: Another matter: Intrepid mountaineer:
Pioneer of countless Black Glacier routes: Nocturnal climber of distinction:
But Virgil: Will lead him on The Astral Plane: A route The Count knows nothing about:
A route to the heart of the bergshrund: Virgil: Knew he would follow:
Nothing would stop The Count: Mission of utmost importance:
The Count: Now on Black Glacier: Following Virgil’s tracks: Pointy things:
The Count: Protruding: Pointy things: Vibrating in anticipation:
Yearning for blood: The door to the soul: Pushing ever upwards:
Zombies below: Step on the ice: Sans pointy things:
Slipping: Sliding: Crashing: Hurling: Plummeting: Damnation of Eternal Crevasse:
Virgil: Stops: Listen to screams:
The bergshrund ahead: The Count: Below:
Virgil: Reaches the head of the glacier: Gazes down into the bergshrund:
He rigs up his rope: Rappels into the dark depths: Clicking on headlamp:
Scanning the walls for the cave: Lamp lands upon the grotto:
Virgil: Swings into the entrance: Finding firm footing:
He unhooks from rope: Pulling it down into the cave:
Clicks off his lamp: Sits and waits:
The Count: Reaches the crest: Drops into the bergshrund:
No headlamp needed: Nocturnal eyes peering:
Virgil: Squatting in the dark of the cave wall: Waiting:
The Count: Sees the cave: Swings over to its entrance:
Virgil: Leaps up: Knife in hand: Slicing the rope: Plummeting Count:
Crevasse below: Bouncing off walls:
Descent stops: Grabbing a ledge: Struggling up:
Virgil: Hears: The Count: Below: Curses his luck:
The game is not over: Arsenal of pointy things engaged:
Protruding: Tingling: Pointy things: Up climbs The Count:
Virgil: Sharpens his stake: Wooden ice axe handle: Double duty:
The Count: Emerges into dark: Scanning for Virgil: Not seeing:
Virgil: Swings in from above: Wooden Stake meeting its mark:
The cries of the damned: Echo: Through Black Glacier:
Unite for a moment: Disappear into the depths:
Makes extra sure the job is done: Multiple stabbings: Lifeless Vampire:
Dragged to the rising sun: Body devoured by light: Pointy thing necklace:
Virgil: Heads up The Weaver: Gazes on the chaos below: Consuming the world:
Virgil: Deep into the mountains: Sole companions: Pointy things:
