An untitled story (kind of just an intro) that popped in my head yesterday, which got major potential of becoming a new story; I really like the ideas I'm working on. I post it here for now just so I can access it on my other com. =P Please ignore the spelling mistakes, and be so kind to correct them if you see any. I wrote this in the middle of the night without a spelling checker, so yeah.
Enjoy and all, for what its worth now! =)
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"
Gunshots.
'HELP HELP!: the crowd shouts as it wavers. Will they be heard?
Gunshots.
'I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT!': the man screams proud through his laughter. Will he be heard?
Panic. Gunshots. Panic. Blood. Panic. Heartbeats. Panic. Die. Panic. Stumble. Panic. Bodies. Panic. Kill. Panic. Kill. Panic. Kill!
'Come here, let's play!': the woman cries, her hair ripped off. Struggling and shouting, she won't make it.
The traffic light switched red, all birds have left this place. An occasional body here and there, shattered windows of local shops, and a very handsome amount of blood pouring into the sewer; just to sketch the situation. Now, who is the man dragging the woman over the street? I could tell you who that woman is; just an 'innocent' bystander, but: she isn't that gorgeous anymore. A horrible look: those scratches on her arms, that blood mingled with mud, her clothes ragged. Hell, if this was taped and put on some fetish site, this could get exciting.
But now to the man: who is he?
I'll tell you who...he is me.
'Whahahaaa! You thought you could make me let you go, hm? Is that it? YES, THAT'S IT, ISN'T IT?' Hair now almost completely removed from her scalp; the woman cries silently, beaten numb. Her attacker's voice hardly reaches the conscious state of her mind when her eyes turn blank.
'Hm, pathetic.': the head of the woman, now released from his grip, hits the ground. A nice red colour.
'Who's next?'
Footsteps. Gunshots. The man can't stop, the man can't stop!
'Oh, please, make him stop!': panic turns me on. There, I said it, so please let me enjoy this part: here's where they beg for there lives...
His suit is filthy, did it rain this morning? O wait, that's blood. Anyway, the look on his face is not one smiling. Well, what would you do if you feel cold steel against your teeth, while the knowledge of your upcoming death surprisingly doesn't really get to you at all? Mumble. Yes, he mumbles; the poor bastard with his fear filled eyes. Would the mad man above him give him a cup of tea or something? He looks like he's freezing. But that's not on the mind of the madman. You know what is? Yeah, you do, so no point in telling it: up to the next victim, this one's dead.
"
You like it so far? Hm? Yes, was that a yes? Ah well, hard to speak for you I guess, I'll just continue now.
"
BANG!
So, there's another blown to bits body on the ground. Thickened by the smell of sweat and the heat surrounding those brave little hearts; its hard to breath in this oxygen. Driven in the corner they are, begging for their Gods: six shining personalities, oh, oh, what will they do? Can they think straight after seeing seven people murdered in a way not possible in even their troubled sleeps? Well I certainly hope not, gha, haha!
'Please, God, have mercy on us!'
'There is no God, you fuck!'
Gunshots. One down. Smoke and a pointing barrel.
'He's got some nice organs, no? Anyone has a sick uncle or something? No? NO!?'
Gunshots. Two down.
"
Am I going too fast? Just nod, my friend, and I'll slow down talking, or I'll...elaborate more.
Enjoy and all, for what its worth now! =)
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Hear me out: that's what he said.
October 17, 20:43
"
Gunshots.
'HELP HELP!: the crowd shouts as it wavers. Will they be heard?
Gunshots.
'I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT!': the man screams proud through his laughter. Will he be heard?
Panic. Gunshots. Panic. Blood. Panic. Heartbeats. Panic. Die. Panic. Stumble. Panic. Bodies. Panic. Kill. Panic. Kill. Panic. Kill!
'Come here, let's play!': the woman cries, her hair ripped off. Struggling and shouting, she won't make it.
The traffic light switched red, all birds have left this place. An occasional body here and there, shattered windows of local shops, and a very handsome amount of blood pouring into the sewer; just to sketch the situation. Now, who is the man dragging the woman over the street? I could tell you who that woman is; just an 'innocent' bystander, but: she isn't that gorgeous anymore. A horrible look: those scratches on her arms, that blood mingled with mud, her clothes ragged. Hell, if this was taped and put on some fetish site, this could get exciting.
But now to the man: who is he?
I'll tell you who...he is me.
'Whahahaaa! You thought you could make me let you go, hm? Is that it? YES, THAT'S IT, ISN'T IT?' Hair now almost completely removed from her scalp; the woman cries silently, beaten numb. Her attacker's voice hardly reaches the conscious state of her mind when her eyes turn blank.
'Hm, pathetic.': the head of the woman, now released from his grip, hits the ground. A nice red colour.
'Who's next?'
Footsteps. Gunshots. The man can't stop, the man can't stop!
'Oh, please, make him stop!': panic turns me on. There, I said it, so please let me enjoy this part: here's where they beg for there lives...
His suit is filthy, did it rain this morning? O wait, that's blood. Anyway, the look on his face is not one smiling. Well, what would you do if you feel cold steel against your teeth, while the knowledge of your upcoming death surprisingly doesn't really get to you at all? Mumble. Yes, he mumbles; the poor bastard with his fear filled eyes. Would the mad man above him give him a cup of tea or something? He looks like he's freezing. But that's not on the mind of the madman. You know what is? Yeah, you do, so no point in telling it: up to the next victim, this one's dead.
"
You like it so far? Hm? Yes, was that a yes? Ah well, hard to speak for you I guess, I'll just continue now.
"
BANG!
So, there's another blown to bits body on the ground. Thickened by the smell of sweat and the heat surrounding those brave little hearts; its hard to breath in this oxygen. Driven in the corner they are, begging for their Gods: six shining personalities, oh, oh, what will they do? Can they think straight after seeing seven people murdered in a way not possible in even their troubled sleeps? Well I certainly hope not, gha, haha!
'Please, God, have mercy on us!'
'There is no God, you fuck!'
Gunshots. One down. Smoke and a pointing barrel.
'He's got some nice organs, no? Anyone has a sick uncle or something? No? NO!?'
Gunshots. Two down.
"
Am I going too fast? Just nod, my friend, and I'll slow down talking, or I'll...elaborate more.
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