Cling Clang
Author's note:
This is a gaming sort of creepypasta, but it is not minecraft, pokemon or a hunted game/file. I'm pretty sure this doesn't count as a spinoff. I hope this does not come under any of the banned catagories- I myself do not think they do.
History
Thresh is a twisted reaper whose hungry chains ensnare the souls of the living. A moment's hesitation at the sight of his ghostly visage and there is no escape. He leaves in his wake hollow corpses, their souls ripped loose and trapped in the sickly green light of his lantern. The Chain Warden takes sadistic joy in tormenting his victims, both before and after their deaths. His grim task is never complete, and he stalks the land for ever more resolute spirits to unravel.
Thresh carves careful, deliberate paths through Valoran. He handpicks his targets individually, devoting his full attention to each soul in turn. He isolates and toys with them, gradually eroding their sanity with his twisted, maddening humor. Once Thresh takes an interest in a soul, he does not relent until he possesses it. He then drags those he captures back to the Shadow Isles for an unimaginably dreadful fate. This is his only purpose.
Little is known about the Chain Warden's past, and many of the details live only in nursery rhymes and campfire tales. They tell of a sadistic jailer from centuries past who took great delight in torturing his wards. Patient and brutal, he used a variety of methods to break his victims' minds before their bodies succumbed to his grisly designs. Chains were the jailer's preferred instruments of terror. Their shrill scrape marked his dreadful approach and promised agony to those he visited. His dark reign went unchallenged until his prisoners escaped during a massive riot. They overwhelmed him, and without ceremony or remorse, hanged him from his own chains. Thus began the unlife of the horrible specter known as Thresh, or so the tales go.
Thresh now haunts the land, leaving an aftermath of horror and despair. However, there is a devious purpose behind his dark machinations, and the meager spirits of average men are insufficient. He seeks stronger souls. Only when he has broken the wills of Valoran's most resilient warriors will he finally have what he needs.
"There are few things as invigorating as taking a mind apart, piece by piece."―Thresh
Cling Clang
The streets of Noxus are long and winding. There are many alleys running between streets. I duck into one now. The whole city is deserted, even the inns are silent. Usually, at this time of night, many of the drunken yordles* have started to start fights, going up against other drinkers almost twice their size. Houses loom above me from all sides, I trip over bins and stray pieces of rubbish. Once I was so proud of being noxian. Now I curse it. All of those normal people developing amazing powers and then joining the league... I used to dream about joining the ranks alongside those such as Katarina. But that was years ago. Now that I think about it, it's too quiet. What has he done? Has he put everyone to sleep so I am alone? So that he can get me? As if. I won't go down without a fight. The cobbles fly beneath my feet. My tunic flutters in the wind, my hair trailing behind me in a chocolate brown mass. With boots pounding the pave stones, I skid around another corner, turning down the street and running past a pub called 'The League's Horse'. I swear I saw someone in the window, watching me. Shivers run down my spine. I must get away. I don't care if it's never been done before. I have to leave. I have to get away. Surely he won't kill me if I take residency in the league? After all, I have certain... Skills that I could lend to the summoners. They'll protect me from him, won't they? They have to.
It's running around in my head, dancing in front of me before moving backwards, out of my grasp. It won't leave me, it won't leave me alone. The nursery rhyme everyone knows. The one about him. He seemed like a fairy tale, but no. He is real. He is coming for me. Him, of all. Him. The song won't leave it's melody rings out clear in my head no matter what noise I hear. It sounds just as it did when I was a child. I can hear the different voices of my class mates. Thy all taunt me. The tormenting song driving me on. I can't get caught by him. The strange thing is, I can only hear the first verse. The first four lines. I remember them even after this time. No one forgets something that gives even adults nightmares.
Cling clang...
I push onwards, rounding another corner, but not before glancing back. He doesn't seem to be there. I still haven't seen him. No one has seen him. I almost feel silly, running from something I haven't even seen. But I know he is there. I can feel it. I can hear it.
... Go the chains...
I don't want to find out what happens when, or even if, it reaches the fourth line. I'm still running. Running from him. What will happen when I tire? I can't stop. Or he'll get me and I won't be any more.
Someone's out to find you...
The voices won't go away. They sing me their song. They won't stop. I try to run but it takes me nowhere. I'm alone. I've been left to die. It's almost too quiet. Even the birds are silent. Winding streets take me everywhere. I swear that, at times, I pass the same place twice. If I stand still, he'll get me. I can't let him get me.
...Cling clang...
I've tried calling out for help with no results. Everyone is gone. Not even the normal patrols are around. The guards are gone. I've tried at least three of the different guard towers placed periodically around the main walls. Nothing. No one. Even the wind is blowing in lazy bouts. Clouds are suspended, almost still, in the dark starry sky. The moon is full. How fitting for such a grisly task. For such a horrid end to a life so wonderful.
... Oh the chains...
I fall. My feet slip from under me, as if I were a glass, sitting on a tablecloth, just before someone rips if from beneath. The ground rushes towards me, eager to meet me. I let out a cry as gravel digs into my palms. Poor horses, having to go over the hard, compressed dirt that makes up the roads, with occasional streets lined with cobblestones.
The Warden's....
I freeze, hearing the last line uttered slowly, hanging after warden.
... Right...
A lump rises in my throat, as I slowly turn to look behind.
... Behind...
I gasp at what a see, and begin dragging myself forward, trying to get away.
... You...
He stands there, motionless, head down, chains dangling from his body. I see what tripped me up. His glowing scythe lays a meter or so away from where I lay, sprawled, across the ground. In his right hand he holds the chain which connects to the odd weapon. In his left he holds the lantern. The old lantern they say he used to carry on his rounds. Its sickly green-blue glow casts a horrid light over the ground. His thick, heavy coat seems sealed around him. Chains wrap around his body, with odd keys and locks hanging off here and there. His empty eyes seem to watch me. The essence of his soul swirls around his head, somehow keeping the floating pieces in the air. Jagged... Stone? Forms his teeth. His bottom jaw hovers a few centimetres bellow the top. Then I hear a voice whispering to me.
Have you ever seen your soul...?
Thresh, the chain warden, had come for me.
I push up from the ground, wincing as the small stones dig into my palms. As I stand, I look behind, watching him begin to walk forward. Quickly brushing the gravel off, I break into a run, by feet pounding the ground as I thunder around a corner. I must get away. I have to get away. He can't get me. I wind from street to street, and yet he still finds me. He can't be going at more than a walk, and yet he always seems to catch up.
Quick now, his seeking chains,
I cover my ears, trying to block out the old nursery rhyme. But it will not cease. It buries itself in my ears getting louder as I go, threatening to take over all of my thoughts.
Approach with their shrill scrape,
The chains scrape along the cobbles as if screeching at me. I let out a hopeless cry, turning into one of the main squares. He's standing in front of me.
Don’t stop, flee the chains,
A turn on my heel, before tearing away once again, moving in and out of the shadows cast by the street-lamps. Their flickering candlelight casts long, orange shadows, much better than his sickly green-blue ones. They say that his lantern sucks up your soul once you're dead, and that you will spend forever more in his lantern if he catches you.
Your last chance to escape!
I duck into a house now, diving under the low door. I watch him pass, seeming not to notice me. Leaning back against the wall, I sigh with relief. I peer out of the window once more, just to be sure. He's gone. I freeze, feeling something cold almost breathing on my neck.
Are you going to beg for mercy? As they always do?
The voice whispered. It seemed to echo, despite the small size of the room. I collapse in front of him, looking up with frightened eyes, knowing the end is near. He waits for a few moments, before sighing.
Pity. I was rather looking forward to hearing your pleas after such a long chase. I do hope you're going to at least scream...
He looks down on me, or at least, appears to, before I see the scythe swing down. I screamed, at the top of my voice, and I heard the last thing I ever would. A sigh, followed by a distant sentence, before it all went black.
I do love it when they scream.
The chain warden strode out of the house, before walking down the street and away. All those asleep on the street were interrupted by a haunting melody, seemingly sung by children.
Cling clang, go the chains,
Someone’s out to find you,
Cling clang, oh the chains,
The warden’s right behind you.
Quick now, his seeking chains,
Approach with their shrill scrape,
Don’t stop, flee the chains,
Your last chance to escape!
Drag the chains, drag the chains,
With all the strength you may!
Drag the chains, drag the chains,
‘Ere they drag you away!
Cling clang, go the chains!
There’s no more time for fear!
Cling clang, no the chains!
The last sound that you’ll hear!
*Yordles- Humanoid beings never taller than 1 meter. They can range from being fully furred to having none at all. Most have cat-like ears.