Sorry about the delay in posting this morning, folks. I had accidentally turned off my internet with my Bible this morning I think, and then couldn't figure out why it wouldn't come on. A few restarts and troubleshoots later my bro asked me if I had turned off my internet. I said "no, why would I do that?" and then saw that my network key was off. Yeah, nice...
The king leaped up again, and with one throw launched the bar of steel through the whole machine, sticking it out the back.
The lights died, and the breath ceased.
But the king's last enemy was not yet dead.
From the top of the beast emerged a new champion, clad in armor of blackish hue. Caesar stood unarmed at the mouth of the dying beast, as the captain of the enemy drew out his weapon. A gun typically held over the shoulder, it launched steal rods three feet long. The captain of the enemy carried it at his waist. Standing over the trembling Caesar he pointed the gun at the king and launched his first rod of steel.
Caesar rolled to the side and dodged the massive bolt. There was no combating that. Caesar turned for flight and bounded down the street. The black renegade stalked after him, laughing. Caesar struggled along the broken and street, his wounds taking their toll on his strength. Another rod flew over his head, and as he leaped away the terrible laughs of that enemy bellowed down after him, a wicked song that drove the king mad.
Caesar turned and launched a huge rock at him, but he did not dodge or break his pace and the rock rolled by. One of the rods whizzed a foot by Caesar's head, driving through the smooth grey stone wall behind.
The king turned to flee, running for the bridge. Her daddy was still there pressing the plunger and twirling his wires, but to no available. The wires had shorted just before the red sticks on the king's cornerstone.
The king reached his bridge and was nearly across when he saw her. She stood so innocently, with her fellow people all around. They charged their guns and leveled them at the king, lest he should cross their bridge and undo them. Too proud were they for a man like Caesar to rescue them. Too proud to call him a man. Too afraid to let him save them. Too foolish to let him be their king. They had no chance against this terrible enemy, with the power of death in his hands.
The king turned to look upon his final foe. Not at all tall, neither imposing, but slowly walking and silently slaying. As he walked he drove his stakes into any men left breathing on his side of the river. Having finished the last of them he turned and strode toward the bridge, hungry now only to kill all those on the other side. His armor was too strong for their guns, his power too great to be stopped. Behind him all the legions of renegades would come. If their black captain could defeat the king of the rocks, there would be no victory for the people.
And Caesar stood on the bridge, blood spewing from his wounds and covering his body. Not at all man-like in appearance, beyond any man in his strength, the only man who could save the people now.