Ionesco - Prologue

Ionesco:  Prologue





Run.  Run as fast as you can.

Shanngo’s feet could only carry him so fast.  He hopped over the fallen trees and broken, splintered roots and debris that lay strewn across the pitch black jungle floor in the most hurried pace he could achieve.  His face frozen in terror, he didn’t dare look back.  The ground rumbled aggressively as he felt it split suddenly, and an enormous fracture burst open underneath his feet.  Stumbling and trying not to lose his balance, he vaulted high into the air, landed on his feet and dove directly into the bushes ahead of him.  Certain that he was far enough from his pursuer; he braced himself against a tree trunk inside the brush. 

Breathe. You’re alright.  There’s nothing behind you anymore.  The air swept in and out of his lungs rapidly, chest rising and falling at an impetuous speed.  Lids closed tightly, Shanngo desperately tried to wake himself from this terrible nightmare. 

You’re going to wake up at any moment now, just wake up!  He struggled to breathe, as it all seemed far too surreal.  He folded his arms around his knees and rocked himself back and forth in anguish.  As a boy looking very much his seventeen years, this was by far the most trying circumstance he had faced in his life.  Thoughts thundered in his head, thoughts of never seeing his family again, never learning his full potential and never growing into a man terrified him.  It couldn’t have been more than a few moments, but to Shanngo it felt like an eternity.  Struggling to regain his composure, he calmed himself and nodded his head, determined not to succumb to this fear. 

I’m going to make it out of this.  Slowly, he summoned the courage to look out beyond the brush and as he reached forward to a few of the branch arms, he quietly pulled them apart.  Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

This… This isn’t real...  This can’t be real!  His eyes were fixated in horror as the only thing he could see was a column of blinding white light that encompassed everything as far and high as the jungle stretched.  It seemed to stand silent and still for a moment, as if it was resting just like he had been.  It pulsated slightly, resembling calmer breaths then the ones he had just struggled with.  For only a second, time seemed to stand still.  Shanngo was mesmerized, locked in a dead stare with the menacing light that just stood still only a few meters away. 

You have to run before it comes after you again!  You have t-- Suddenly, the light let out a terrifying screech that shook him to the core. Wincing, he grabbed his ears in pain, as he was sure the sound would deafen him.  The screech transformed into a roar, and then into an earth-shaking bellow, as if all the animals in the jungle were shouting with it.  Without any warning the light pulsed, and began to spread outward and began to swallow everything whole, giving chase to Shanngo once more.  He sprang out from the hiding spot, gasping, as it seemed his pursuer was slowly gaining speed.  He began to feel the hot grip of death waiting just beyond the light, and should it catch up to him he knew he would be no more.  With a burst of speed, every fiber in his body continued to urge him forward. 

Run!  Keep running!  He sprinted with all of his might, bounding over the obstacles in his way.  But the light continued its relentless chase, uprooting every tree, and throwing every rock in its path violently to the side.  It continued to call out to him with that shrill, ear-piercing roar.

         Why couldn’t I have stayed put? He thought to himself.  If only I had stayed with my family, and not been so curious...  Lamenting the knowledge of those moments earlier when he knew he had witnessed a phenomenon he shouldn’t have.  Now it seems his punishment was to be swallowed by the evil that pursued him. 

His brain repeated the events that took place over and over again, as he tried to figure out how he found himself here in the first place.  It was only a short time ago that he was contentedly lazing near a fire, nestled up with his younger brother and sister.  Their mother sat across from them shivering silently in the bitterly cold night.  She pulled her coverings and the wolf pelt closer to her body in an attempt to get warmer.

“I can make the fire larger if you are to cold, my love.” His father said gently, running his hand over her long, black hair. 

“Please.”  Shanngo’s mother nodded lightly, and leaned back against the trunk of the tree she sat under.  His father pressed his hands into the dirt, pushing himself vertically until he was standing tall over them all.  It was clear to the family that he was growing older, as he sluggishly moved toward the fire.  The hair in his beard glistened silver under the moonlight as he shifted his legs slightly apart.  Steadfast in this stance, he hummed to himself calmly.  Quickly, his hands began to swing wildly in front of him while he pushed his arms together at the wrists.  His voice chanted at a nearly silent volume in a guttural tone that sounded as if three men were chanting at once.  The tips of his fingers began to glow red as he chanted the ancient song.  Slowly, the fire began to dance more wildly, almost as if it were dancing in time to the song he chanted.  He quickly clasped his hands together, and brought them to his lips. 

“Ignite!”  He shouted loudly into the fire, his voice echoing around them.  Spreading its unpredictable arms wide, the fire bent backwards in response to the shout.  In an instant it glowed, doubling in size.  The warmth surrounded them quickly, comforting them.  Shanngo smiled in admiration of his father as he watched him take his place next to his mother again.  She nuzzled her head against his neck, smiling peacefully as the two sat in complete complacency.  The cold, harsh night no longer seemed so frigid.

         “Father, when will you teach me to harness my abilities, in the way you have?”  Shanngo asked in earnest, his eyes full of hope.  His father chuckled softly, shaking his head as he tossed a handful of twigs into the large fire.

         “Shanngo my son, these abilities come from my experiences!  They do not come from being taught.  The ways I have taught you to hunt, build, and solve problems with your head are not the same as these abilities.  They are gifts!  They are reflexes that you come to learn as well as you know how to walk, or breathe!”  His father bellowed in his usual, proud tone.  Deflated, Shanngo sank back. 

“How will I ever know these abilities, if I have no idea where they are summoned from?”  He mumbled as he traced his finger through the dirt and pebbles, the question directed more toward himself then to his father.

“They are cultivated through experience!”  He repeated, “Summoned from situations where you’ve no choice otherwise!”  His father continued to chuckle, bringing his hand lazily to his beard.

         “Well how old of a man were you when you when you first came to acquire them?!”  Shanngo spewed out, tears welling up in his eyes.  He could feel the warm tears cool instantly in the cold of the night.  His father immediately shot him back a disapproving glare, swiftly responding.

         “Well my ill-tempered son, my father left me in this very jungle alone on a cold night much like this, in order to become strong and learn necessary survival skills I carry to this day.  It was then that I discovered my abilities.  I must’ve been….”  He sat in thought for a moment, stroking his beard. “Fourteen years old.”  Shanngo’s mouth opened widely, as if to respond to the prodding he received from his father’s cruel taunts.  Unable to contain his pain and frustration, he quickly sprang to his feet and sprinted off into the blackness of the jungle.  His mother called out after him.

         “Shanngo don’t!”  She cried out, all the while his father still chuckled.  “Why are you laughing?” she demanded. “This is your fault!  And now my son could be killed because of your insistence on showing him no love or warmth!  You know he is not like you, or your father!”  She snarled.

         “Well then,” He said, looking out into the forest where his son had fled, “perhaps our son will learn to become a man on this night.”

         Shanngo ran with all of his might into the deep, black jungle.  The light of the fire grew smaller behind him, and disappeared within the crush of the thick brush and trees.  There was no longer the warmth he had felt from the fire or pelts, only the bitter, chilling cold that stabbed at his bare torso like a thousand little pins.

         He’ll regret those things he said! Every word of it!  He thought to himself as he ran blindly into the jungle.  Determination filled every single bone in his body.  All the while he blocked the icy, frigid night out of his mind.  His pace never slowed as he rushed deeper into the jungle.  After first turning to his right, he swiftly changed direction.  He convinced himself that, in order to learn from this experience he must not know the way back.  He had to be lost, and survive on his own, that would prove to his father he was worthy, and could come into his abilities and truly become a man. 

However determined, this endeavor did not have his full heart or focus in it.  Silently, he knew would turn and seek the path he had taken.  Even as stubborn and hardheaded as he was being at this moment, he was all too aware of the true dangers that lie in the heart of this jungle.  He had grown up having heard tales from the old men and hunters of his tribe of how they were capable of swallowing a man, woman or child whole!  Tales of dangerous animals that would infiltrate the camps, stealthily stalking them from the shadows, and then drag screaming children back into the jungle.  The bone-chilling wails would wake the entire village, sending the men scrambling for their weapons; only they would find it was too late.  There was nothing more that could be done.  The grief and agony of so many, he had witnessed before.

         He began to feel disoriented, and tried to get his bearings.  As his eyes finally adjusted to the stark ink well black of the late evening, he started to lose count of his steps, and began slowing his pace. The realization of what he had done, and where he was became all the more apparent.  What started out as bold determination and an opportunity to prove his father wrong about him and gain his respect now began to feel like a suicide quest into the all-encompassing blackness of the jungle.  The sounds of wild animals echoed all around him, the screeching and stuttering sent tingles through his body as he was feared he would become their next meal. 

The wet, murky jungle floor sloshed underneath his feet as the canopy threatened to swallow the small remaining slivers of moonlight.  His heart began to race as the sounds of animals moving around him seemed closer and closer.  He could almost feel the eyes of the forest watching him, waiting to strike.  Snapping sticks and twigs made his heart leap into his throat, prompting him to take off running, though he was unsure what direction he headed.  He no longer wished to prove his father wrong, no longer cared for harnessing his abilities on this night.  All that he could think of was his family, and the feeling of being safe and protected next to his father.  He changed direction and tried in vain to remember the path his flight took him.  Searching for some sign, something familiar, maybe some of his prior paces, but this was impossible, having lost track of them long ago.  Turning to the left, he stopped, changed direction, and ran the other way.

         Left, right, changing direction constantly, every direction seemed to deliver him deeper and deeper into the heartless clutches of the jungle.

         I’ll never do this again!  He pleaded to himself. Sweat beading down his face.  If I live through tonight I’ll never be ungrateful again!  He prayed to the unknown spirits of the jungle, as his body quivered in panic. His pace doubled as he plowed ahead frantically through the jungle, hopping to take himself far, far away from the animals and monsters that must have been following him.  He ran until his legs seemed like they could no longer take it, and he could hear the blood pounding in my ears.  Gritting his teeth, he continued running when he saw something that made his heart leap.

         There is a light up ahead!  I can see a clearing!  His tired legs forgotten, they uplifted him into a gleeful stride.  That must be a camp fire!  That is where my family was!  He convinced himself it was true, it just HAD to be them.  He let his mind fall at ease, knowing he would soon be back with his family, and he could apologize to his father, and admit that he truly was not ready yet. 

         Hurrying along at break neck speed, he was only moments from reaching the clearing when suddenly his foot became entangled in the root of a tree, and he went sailing through the night air, and crashed face-first directly onto the jungle floor.  The muddy surface provided some cushion as he slip to a stop just inches from the trunk of a tree.

         Wincing slightly as he dragged himself up to his knees, he took a few deep breaths, hoping to ease the sharp pain in his side, and catch his breath after the extended sprint. Limping over to lean on a nearby trunk, the overwhelming urge to burst into tears overtook him and he dropped himself on a root, put his head in his hands and began sobbing silently.  Though he was so close to home, the sudden journey he had just been through was more then he could handle.  He slowly gathered his composure, wiping away tears, and pushed himself onto his feet, walking slowly the rest of the way toward the clearing.  He reached the edge of the brush and stopped, thinking about the embarrassment he would surely face.

         Father will be so disappointed in me… He realized, hanging his head in complete shame.  With a sigh, he resigned himself to the thrashing he knew he would receive, and slowly reached for the bushes, preparing himself to pass through into the clearing he shared with his family. He’ll never let me live this down.  He’ll never—

         “Everyone place your palms in the center.”  A deep, unfamiliar voice whispered quickly. 

         Shanngo froze in fear.  This was not the voice of anyone he knew.  His eyes darted around the landscape of the clearing.  There were no huts in the trees, there were no families gathered around fires.  This was not his campsite….  This was not his campsite?!  Peering through the bushes, he moved closer to get a better look.  Maybe he would recognize it if he could see it better.

He did not.  What he saw were twelve people dressed in dark cloaks, standing in a circle about a meter apart from one another. Appearing to be in a hurry, they outstretched their hands toward the center.  Shanngo saw many torches jutting up from the ground, lined up in a circle behind them.  Their flames, the only source of light, washed the clearing with a dim illumination.  In the center of the circle in which they stood, a white symbol had been carved into the dirt.  Shanngo could not recognize this symbol, but was sure he had seen it before.  He tried to get a better view, but the feet of the hooded occupants obscured it. 

         “We musssst hurry, the council has caught wind of our plansss for tonight!” This was a high pitched shrill from a woman who’s face he could not see.  “It is only a matter of time until forces will be sssent to thwart our effortsss!”.  Many of them whispered in agreement.

         Shanngo backed away quickly from the bush, remaining silent.  Whoever they were, he knew that whatever they were about to do was looked down upon by someone.  What were they hoping to accomplish here?  Slowly, he slid next to a tree, concealing his body from anyone in the clearing who might chance a look in his direction.  His face peeked out from behind it, his mind still confused, and curious as to what exactly he was witnessing.

         “Then let us commence with the incantation!”  The first voice said.  All of the voices hummed on one note.  Each voice recited a different line of dialogue.

         “Syha-lof...  Dee-ah-grooooo…”

         “Tey-ah-nuu… Mey-nah-croooo..”

         Recognizing words from an ancient tongue, long dead but still known to scholars, like his late grandfather, Shanngo tried to translate each one of the lines of the incantation, but was having difficulty, as there were too many voices chanting at once.  He searched for the most distinctive voice in the crowd as they all melded together. After finally settling on the distinctive speech and shrill voice of the woman and he had heard before he sought it, and focused on it.  He finally distinguished hers and listened in closely.

         “Vessssss-leee-ahh nuuuuussssssssssss…”  Her voice hissed, the same as it did before.  He latched onto the phrase and repeated it to himself again and again before deciphering it.

         “From the deepest depths…” He whispered to himself, and immediately tuned his ear to her voice, translating as it continued.

         “Dessss-leee-ahhh gissssssssss…”

         “From the ancient ruins…”

         “Sssseeee-kuu-ta-gisssss…”

         “Arise o’ ancient creator…”

         “Forrrrr-kuu-ta-gissssssss…”

         “Arise o’ ancient…. Demon?!”

         Ancient demon?!  Shanngo gasped as the symbol underneath their feet began to glow.  The symbol was now clearly visible to him and he became aware of his heart, which began to beat out of his chest.  He had seen this symbol before.  But where had he seen it?  He had to think, but tried to keep focused on the chant.

“Sssseeee-kuu-ta-gisssss… Forrrrr-kuu-ta-gissssssss…”  She incanted again, her voice growing deeper with lines of the ancient song.  The symbol flashed and began to open in the center.  Standing up slowly, trying to get a better view, Shanngo stared at it, fervently trying to remember where he had seen it, and in a sudden blaze of memory, it came back to him.  Memories of his grandfather’s ancient books, and the tales that were told to him as a child began to flood back into memory.  Calling on the memory, he remembered the tales of an ancient, mythological being with unimaginable power and unrivaled strength that lived within it.  The power to build the most beautiful creations and command the most heinous destruction the world had ever known.  The tale would always end the same.  In these stories, those who would throw caution aside and summon this power would surely be destroyed before the incantation could be completed.  The power of this being more than any mere mortal could hope to master… Or so it was told.  He could almost hear his grandfather’s withering old voice, speaking to him as a boy many years ago…

         “But no one would be foolish enough to summon this power again…  They were all too afraid, they knew it would be their undoing…”

They were only stories! Shanngo’s mind insisted.  The hum of the group grew louder and more audible, now speaking completely in unison, repeating the last two lines of the spell over and over and over again.  Their voices grew more thunderous with each utterance of it.  Shanngo’s heart raced even quicker as his grandfather’s voice again crept into his head…

“They tried to summon it only once before…  But no one could contain the power of…”          

What was its name..?  Very near panic now, his mind raced, trying to recall the name of this heinous power, as the voices broke apart, beginning to chant individual songs again, spells Shanngo had heard before.  Rising above the din came incantations pertaining to the elements, earth, fire, wind, water, and the volume rising with the completion of each verse.    The shrouded figures, now with hands outstretched, were clearly visible, bathed in a bright, pulsing white light emanating from the symbol embossed on the jungle floor.  As the verses continued, the symbol pulsed eerily, and with more frequency as the moments went by.  A small white sphere began to take shape, and it grew in the center of the circle.  Electricity spit violently from it as it started to grow with the incantations.  Shanngo’s eyes fixed on the symbol as he tried to sound it out.

Iron rest?!  Manifesto?!  His mind raced in fear as he tried to recall the name that belonged to this dark, mysterious being.  Without warning, the electricity from the orb began flailing out at a sickening pace.  The group surrounding it braced themselves, and attempted to hold their ground as they turned their heads in fear.

“Not yet!  Do not waver!  You must not break the cycle!!”  The first man implored them, and again their voices locked in unison, reaching their loudest volume, almost yelling their chant toward the orb that had now begun to double in size.  Almost as one the group took one step back, leaving their hands outstretched as an overwhelming tornado of wind shot up from the ground that swirled angrily, and lashed out at the figures, threatening to steal the voices from their chants.  More elements were manifested then.  A curtain of fire ignited over their heads, shrouding them in intense heat. Lighting bolts seemed to discharge from the orb toward the twelve, but none of it ever reached past their outstretched palms.  Shanngo, his mouth hanging open, stared in disbelief, as it seemed that these were beings of a great and terrible power, and could not be destroyed.  They were standing against elements of disaster, and they were alive!  Shanngo’s mind went blank, unable to think as all of their voices shouted as one in what he knew to be his native tongue.

“ARISE O’ ANCIENT CREATOR!  ARISE O’ ANCIENT DEMON!  SERVANTS VAST AND SERVANTS NEAR!”  They screamed toward the center as the tornado shrank and slimmed down, and continued to hang in the sky.  The symbol on the ground flashed, ceased to pulse and was lit up completely as it formed a cylinder of light that shot up as high as the cyclone before it.  Shanngo was finally able to read the symbol clearly.

Ion---

“IONESCO, ARISE!!”

With that final shout, everything disappeared.  The cyclone, the pillar of light, and all traces of the raging elements, vanished.  The torches were extinguished and the jungle turned pitch black once again.



Everything was silent.



In an instant, the night sky exploded into a series of fantastic lights.  Vivid colors sparkled and burst into smaller beams that swirled down to the dirt, and up again into the pitch black night.  A fire erupted from the center of the circle and shot out into the air like an erupting volcano.  The jungle around them turned red as blood, the trees bending back against the torrential winds that whipped through them.  Shanngo clung to the tree with all of his might as his feet were lifted up from underneath him.  His body jerked wildly as the turbulent winds howled through branches and the jungle air.  The fireball erupted in the center and spun upward into the clouds as a typhoon of wind and lightning formed around it.

The twelve summoners stood in awe as they watched the being form before their eyes.  The wind cut through the clearing, and seemed to pass directly over their hands and into the jungle behind them.  Millions of faces protruded from the tower of fire, forming into indistinct shapes as they moved.  Fiery wings shot out of from the sides and disappeared into nothingness.  Some, unable to maintain the link, dropped their hands to their sides in exasperation and disbelief, and as they did, the winds of the cyclone lashed out toward them at a terrifying speed.  Realizing they would lose control if they did not regain their hold on the creature, they threw their hands back toward the center, containing it.  None of them it seemed were truly prepared for this.

“Quickly!  We must complete the incantation so we may control Ionesco!  When we do this then the power will be ours!”  The man shouted fiercely, his stance never breaking once.  They began chanting in unison together, voices falling into sync with one another, and they began repeating the verses over and over again.

“Ionesco be freed from you chains!”  The voices grew louder and louder again.  “We take your dominion!”  They finished, repeating each line one by one.    Ionesco, still writhing from within the fiery tower, jolted to and fro, and with an ear-shattering screech it blasted out from inside of it.

“IONESCO BE FREED FROM YOUR CHAINS!!!!”

Shanngo knew his strength would soon falter, and could hold on no longer and as he let go, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

         “HELP ME!!!”  He screamed as he let go, his body being thrown deep into the jungle. 

         Startled by the sudden and unexpected outburst, the leader of the group turned his gaze for a moment, his concentration momentarily broken.  He dropped his hands for but a heartbeat, but that was to be their undoing.  The cyclone of fire broke out into a thousand hands that reached down and grabbed onto each and every one of them, setting each body it touched ablaze.  Each figure touched screamed in agony as they fell backward, writhing in pain, their bodies few a flame.  Those not immediately affected frantically tried to cast water spells to extinguish the flames, but it was already too late.  Ionesco let out a piercing scream so loud that the trees around the clearing were torn asunder, taken completely out of the ground.  The remaining members of the group not ignited dropped to their knees as blood began to spill from their eyes and ears.  Their heads shook violently as copious amount of blood began to pour from their noses and mouths.  The only one left standing was the leader, who turned to gaze upon the tower in horror. With a cry he dropped to his knees quickly and began to plead with Ionesco.

         “Oh ancient god of wrath and fury, please extend me your arm of mercy!”  He implored Ionesco, his hands clasped together.  In response, Ionesco sank down slowly into the size of the small orb again.  The wind stopped, and the fires on the charred bodies of his fallen comrades ceased to burn.  The orb continued to shrink, slowly floating toward the leader.  It reduced itself to the size of a marble, and seemed to disappear.  Shaking, the man sank back and exhaled a long sigh of relief before trying to get to his feet.  Before he could take a step, his body twisted violently, and with a flash he was bent backwards, head to the ground.  The sound of his spine snapping echoed deep into the jungle. The man screamed in agonizing pain as his spine pierced through his skin. He seized uncontrollably as he began levitating off of the ground.  Again his body twisted completely backwards, until the man was split into two pieces and his innards spilled out onto the ground.

         What happened?  Where am I?

Shanngo was slow to get up off the jungle floor, his legs protesting as he stood up and leaned against a nearby tree, his head slightly foggy from his flight from the clearing. After the haze subsided, he looked backward in the direction of the clearing and saw a white glow far away in the direction of the clearing.  Not wanting any further entanglements with this strange and terrible power, he turned the other way and with the small bit of strength remaining in his weary body, began running, hoping to put as much distance between him and the clearing as possible. 

         He hadn’t more than a few paces from where he landed when he heard something dreadful, like the sound of a soul being torn from it’s body.  Shanngo came to a stop and chanced a look back in the direction of the clearing, and immediately wished he hadn’t.  A pale white light made its way through the trees, paying heed to nothing in its path, intent on only one thing.

         With a cry, Shanngo ran as fast as he could through the jungle, stumbling over the rocks, over the cracking earth, into the bushes, and out again into the pitch-black jungle.  His body trembled in fear as he struggled to find the strength to propel his body forward.  With a sick dread he could feel the light closing in on him, and somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that this was the last thing he would ever know. His thoughts went to his family, his mother, and especially his father.  Looking behind him all he could see was the restless, relentless red light growing ever closer by the second.  He willed his body forward, begging his legs to go faster, arms to pump harder, but to no avail, the light continued to close in, settling directly behind him, moving closer.  He knew he would never see his family again.  The terrible screech it emitted never stopped.  The sound rang in his ears, pounding in his head until finally, he could take no more. His legs grew weak, his head pounded so loud he could no longer hear. The young man’s body could take no more.  His pace ground to a halt, and with a last gasp he fell forward directly onto his face.  He squeezed his eyes closed as his body burned in searing pain.  Calling out to his father, he tried to scream in agony, but no sound could escape.  The pain only lasted a moment, and then there was only darkness.