Automagfreek
29-10-2004, 05:56
Abandon all hope, ye who enter. Death itself fears what lies behind these doors of stone.
-Inscription above the entrance to The Halls-
****
Decay had consumed the Halls. Years of dust and rot had turned the once horrific Halls of the Dead into a literal wreck. The only constant however were the thousands of dried and withered corpses that lines the walls going into each individual corridor, that and the sickening sweet stench of putrid rot. Many years had passed since the Vault of Souls was discovered, and since that day Lord Dreadfire had ordered The Halls sealed.
That was until the need for such a facility emerged yet again.
With crime and domestic unrest growing, and with the international community beginning to have it's doubts of the ferocity of AMF resolve, the need for The Halls had become very clear. An example had to be set, for the lessons once learned had been forgotten.
The mighty stone doors were thrown open, and a gust of toxic air burst from the seal that locked the mighty death chambers away from the outside world for so long. The first customers had been waiting outside The Halls, chained to the ground and periodically flogged for no reason whatsoever. A large crowd had gathered across the street from the tiny stone entryway that lead into the underground facility. Babes began to weep and the children began to cower as a sense of pure dread washed the crowd, for the first people in line for their taste of death started off into the darkness. As the last few people entered, the cold stone doors were closed and several armed Sentinels stood guard outside and kept order, telling the crowd to disperse or they will be fired upon.
As the group decended into the darkness, the executioners that came to call The Halls home began igniting the old torches that once filled the blood soaked corridors with cleansing light, and as they did so the condemned cried out in pure terror as they saw the skeletal remains of the unfortuate souls that suffered an unspeakable fate in the years past. Thousands of corpses stood frozen with a look of horror upon what was left of their faces, a silent testament to the authority that The Destroyer commanded.
The caravan rounded the first corner and walked past the holding cells. Nothing more than holes carved out of the stone walls and closed off by steel doors, the cells were once alive with the insane laughter and the pitiful cries of those that had to sit and listen to the screams of those being tortured in such a horrifying fashion. And worse, they knew they were next. But there would be no need for holding cells on this day, for the guest list was short. A few murderers and child molesters, 'twas nothing more than a small cleansing.
With great haste the executioners began strapping the condemned into the various crude and sometimes extravogant torture machines The Halls sported. The first one ready to go was a simple steel table with leather straps. Nothing special, save for the table that sit next to the metal slab. On the table sat various instruments of pain ranging from drills to hammers to blow torches. The dust and age did not affect the power tools in any way, and the first noise of torture to fill the air was that of an electrical drill with a rather large bit in it. Golf ball sized to be exact. Without so much as batting an eye, the executioner removed the shoes of the 24 year old man that he had strapped in and laid the whirling drill into the tender skin that covered the soles of the man's feet. Blood spattered and coated the executioner's shrouded face, and the sounds of unspeakable pain and agony filled the room as the drill prodded through skin, tissue, muscle, and bone alike on both feet. The blood began running freely, so the executioner knew he did not have much time. The 10 pound sledge would serve well in this case. Straight to the shin bones he went, causing fragments of bone to splinter off and fly into the air along with a generous portion of gore. With smashed legs and hole ridden feet, the dying man stapped to the table cried out to his God with tears running down his face and his fist clenched in defiance.
The executioner cocked his head and chuckled slighty, grabbing the neddle nosed pliers that lay in front of him. A small whack to the back of the man's right hand with the sledge loosened his grip but did not shatter his hand. Onto the finger nails on the right hand the executioner went, prying and pulling until the skin tore and the nails slid easily from the finger tips. While this was going on, another executioner placed the man's left hand into a container of volitile acid that began rapidly dissolving the skin and muscle, all the way down to the bones. The man's eyes widened and his pupils began to dilate, but in kicked the IV unit that was forcefully jammed into a random vein in the left arm of the man. A shot of adrenaline was administered to keep the man's suffering at a maximum, and it worked to great effect.
By this time the other victims were ready to meet their fate, and it was apparent by the attitudes of the executioners that they wanted to get this done and over with, obviously wanting to do better things than torture vermin. A woman was tied to a pike in the center of the room beneath a giant vent shaft, and she was promptly doused with gasoline and set ablaze. The stench of burning hair and skin caused even the executioners to grimace abit, and the woman thrashed and struggled about as she attempted in vain to free herself from the flames that engulfed her entire body. Her screams drowned out that of the first victim that was now dead and tossed off to the side, and this caused the other victims to break down into hysteria.
The woman's screams were outdone by that of a large industrial woodchipper, and the young man that was being fed into it slowly. He watched in absolute horror as his feet and legs were sliced into tiny portions and spat out the end of the chipper with a shower of blood and other bodily fluids. The snapping and crunching of bone could easily be heard over the wails of the condemned and the motor of the chipper. The whirling blades then caught ahold of the man's pelvis, and it was all over. In a flash he was sucked into the chipper with great speed, and the motor of the machine was bogged down slightly as it's spinning blades of death tore through the rest of the unfortunate young man.
All across the main torture facility people were meeting fates that eclipsed the fate of the one to die before them. This is what The Halls existed for, to punish the agents of evil and cleanse their souls in the stagnant waters of pain and misery. Although each soul that entered that chamber marked for death and masked for torture were brutally killed, not one of them were tossed into a place that dwarfed even The Halls....The Tomb of the Mutilated. The stone lid that sealed the enterance was illuminated by the forces that lived on the other side. It was apparent that they too lusted for fresh souls, and the demons and vile creatures of the night began drinking their fill.
*****
AMF News Update
Criminals everywhere, enemies of Automagfreek, here my words. The Halls of the Dead have been reopened yet again, and the horrors that took place there tonight are but a taste of what lies in store for those that undermine the Empire. You commit a crime, you go the The Halls. You defy the Empire, you go to The Halls. The lessons of old have been forgotten, and a refresher course has been started.
<Cut to video feed from within The Halls>
Heathens and agents of evil here me now, The Halls will soon claim your souls if you dare step out of line. That is all.
This statement was given by the Sentinel officer in charge at the world's most notorious torture facility. What we just heard were the words of Damien handed down to his officer at the site, and it is very apparent that Lord Dreadfire seeks to restablish his intolernace for crime and deception against the Excessively Armed Empire.
We will break in with more details as they emerge. This has been an AMF News update.
-Inscription above the entrance to The Halls-
****
Decay had consumed the Halls. Years of dust and rot had turned the once horrific Halls of the Dead into a literal wreck. The only constant however were the thousands of dried and withered corpses that lines the walls going into each individual corridor, that and the sickening sweet stench of putrid rot. Many years had passed since the Vault of Souls was discovered, and since that day Lord Dreadfire had ordered The Halls sealed.
That was until the need for such a facility emerged yet again.
With crime and domestic unrest growing, and with the international community beginning to have it's doubts of the ferocity of AMF resolve, the need for The Halls had become very clear. An example had to be set, for the lessons once learned had been forgotten.
The mighty stone doors were thrown open, and a gust of toxic air burst from the seal that locked the mighty death chambers away from the outside world for so long. The first customers had been waiting outside The Halls, chained to the ground and periodically flogged for no reason whatsoever. A large crowd had gathered across the street from the tiny stone entryway that lead into the underground facility. Babes began to weep and the children began to cower as a sense of pure dread washed the crowd, for the first people in line for their taste of death started off into the darkness. As the last few people entered, the cold stone doors were closed and several armed Sentinels stood guard outside and kept order, telling the crowd to disperse or they will be fired upon.
As the group decended into the darkness, the executioners that came to call The Halls home began igniting the old torches that once filled the blood soaked corridors with cleansing light, and as they did so the condemned cried out in pure terror as they saw the skeletal remains of the unfortuate souls that suffered an unspeakable fate in the years past. Thousands of corpses stood frozen with a look of horror upon what was left of their faces, a silent testament to the authority that The Destroyer commanded.
The caravan rounded the first corner and walked past the holding cells. Nothing more than holes carved out of the stone walls and closed off by steel doors, the cells were once alive with the insane laughter and the pitiful cries of those that had to sit and listen to the screams of those being tortured in such a horrifying fashion. And worse, they knew they were next. But there would be no need for holding cells on this day, for the guest list was short. A few murderers and child molesters, 'twas nothing more than a small cleansing.
With great haste the executioners began strapping the condemned into the various crude and sometimes extravogant torture machines The Halls sported. The first one ready to go was a simple steel table with leather straps. Nothing special, save for the table that sit next to the metal slab. On the table sat various instruments of pain ranging from drills to hammers to blow torches. The dust and age did not affect the power tools in any way, and the first noise of torture to fill the air was that of an electrical drill with a rather large bit in it. Golf ball sized to be exact. Without so much as batting an eye, the executioner removed the shoes of the 24 year old man that he had strapped in and laid the whirling drill into the tender skin that covered the soles of the man's feet. Blood spattered and coated the executioner's shrouded face, and the sounds of unspeakable pain and agony filled the room as the drill prodded through skin, tissue, muscle, and bone alike on both feet. The blood began running freely, so the executioner knew he did not have much time. The 10 pound sledge would serve well in this case. Straight to the shin bones he went, causing fragments of bone to splinter off and fly into the air along with a generous portion of gore. With smashed legs and hole ridden feet, the dying man stapped to the table cried out to his God with tears running down his face and his fist clenched in defiance.
The executioner cocked his head and chuckled slighty, grabbing the neddle nosed pliers that lay in front of him. A small whack to the back of the man's right hand with the sledge loosened his grip but did not shatter his hand. Onto the finger nails on the right hand the executioner went, prying and pulling until the skin tore and the nails slid easily from the finger tips. While this was going on, another executioner placed the man's left hand into a container of volitile acid that began rapidly dissolving the skin and muscle, all the way down to the bones. The man's eyes widened and his pupils began to dilate, but in kicked the IV unit that was forcefully jammed into a random vein in the left arm of the man. A shot of adrenaline was administered to keep the man's suffering at a maximum, and it worked to great effect.
By this time the other victims were ready to meet their fate, and it was apparent by the attitudes of the executioners that they wanted to get this done and over with, obviously wanting to do better things than torture vermin. A woman was tied to a pike in the center of the room beneath a giant vent shaft, and she was promptly doused with gasoline and set ablaze. The stench of burning hair and skin caused even the executioners to grimace abit, and the woman thrashed and struggled about as she attempted in vain to free herself from the flames that engulfed her entire body. Her screams drowned out that of the first victim that was now dead and tossed off to the side, and this caused the other victims to break down into hysteria.
The woman's screams were outdone by that of a large industrial woodchipper, and the young man that was being fed into it slowly. He watched in absolute horror as his feet and legs were sliced into tiny portions and spat out the end of the chipper with a shower of blood and other bodily fluids. The snapping and crunching of bone could easily be heard over the wails of the condemned and the motor of the chipper. The whirling blades then caught ahold of the man's pelvis, and it was all over. In a flash he was sucked into the chipper with great speed, and the motor of the machine was bogged down slightly as it's spinning blades of death tore through the rest of the unfortunate young man.
All across the main torture facility people were meeting fates that eclipsed the fate of the one to die before them. This is what The Halls existed for, to punish the agents of evil and cleanse their souls in the stagnant waters of pain and misery. Although each soul that entered that chamber marked for death and masked for torture were brutally killed, not one of them were tossed into a place that dwarfed even The Halls....The Tomb of the Mutilated. The stone lid that sealed the enterance was illuminated by the forces that lived on the other side. It was apparent that they too lusted for fresh souls, and the demons and vile creatures of the night began drinking their fill.
*****
AMF News Update
Criminals everywhere, enemies of Automagfreek, here my words. The Halls of the Dead have been reopened yet again, and the horrors that took place there tonight are but a taste of what lies in store for those that undermine the Empire. You commit a crime, you go the The Halls. You defy the Empire, you go to The Halls. The lessons of old have been forgotten, and a refresher course has been started.
<Cut to video feed from within The Halls>
Heathens and agents of evil here me now, The Halls will soon claim your souls if you dare step out of line. That is all.
This statement was given by the Sentinel officer in charge at the world's most notorious torture facility. What we just heard were the words of Damien handed down to his officer at the site, and it is very apparent that Lord Dreadfire seeks to restablish his intolernace for crime and deception against the Excessively Armed Empire.
We will break in with more details as they emerge. This has been an AMF News update.