Ok, lets try this again, with a different approach. I'll post 1 chapter at a time, after a couple of comments, I'll add another chapter. I've gone back through this and add some more things. I've taken the advice of describing Ameena more. Take a look at this, hope you like it, enjoy: (Oh, both negative and positive feed back are wanted a lot! Feel free to speak ur mind 'bout my story... wlel the chapters of it...)
Dreadful Bloodshed
-Chapter One-
The land was dark, no life remained. The place was filled with an emptiness that would send a chill up your spine. The only movement that was made was that of the wind, and a lone stranger. He stood there alone, with an evil grin on his face, and a blood covered sword in his malevolent hands.
The stranger looked down at his latest victim. The fresh blood on his sword dripped onto the cold, dead body. He kicked the lifeless corpse and walked away from the seen, his long black hair and crimson cloak blowing in the sinister wind. His ominous red eyes were fixed on the lifeless area. He kept walking forward. He removed his eyes from the scene and faced forward. He mysteriously vanished into the wind, which died down slightly after he was gone.
This wasn’t the first place that had seen such death and devastation. This mysterious stranger had visited many areas; villages, and towns. All had seen death, and that same sinister wind was there, until the stranger was gone. No one ever survived to tell a soul of these horrific events, or of the strange feeling that you get when he’s near. Any that have ever witnessed him and these tragedies now lay lifelessly on the cold, blood-stained ground. The stranger seems to enjoy all this, getting a maleficent pleasure from others’ suffering, killing everyone and everything ruthlessly, and never toying around with them… much.
The stranger has no particular attacking pattern, he strikes when ever and where ever he pleases, waiting a while first, seeming harmless from the beginning, unthreatening; then when they all least expect it, he strikes and kills them all, leaving no person alive. His only weapon is a single, double edged crystal blade, harder and stronger than any alloy or diamonds, and more valuable than the purest gold. He also wears a light, black chain-mail armor, that doesn’t seem to affect his swift and meticulous kills. The sheath for the blade is fastened tightly on his left side; it is made out of pure gold, with many different jewels up and down on both sides, almost as valuable as his sword.
The stranger never speaks to anyone, even though he spends quite some time around his victims. The look he carries is always an emotionless expression. His long black hair never seems to get in his eyes; his crimson, grey trimmed cloak never gets in his way. His armor covers both the lower and upper parts of his body, still allowing him excellent mobility. He has a muscular build accompanied by a lofty height and attitude. He walks in a casual, sashay manner, almost as a glide. His sword mastery is marvelous and unmatchable. Many a people have fallen to his blade, and none have ever even touched him, his movement is as swift and deadly as his blade.
No one knows of the origin of this man, or how he has become so skillful in everything he does. His intensions are unclear and if others like him exist are unknown. If he is a pawn or a leader, human or immortal, dead or alive, all these things remain a mystery. Many things are indistinct and indefinite about him and his actions. The stranger remains unnamed and not a word has been spoken from him as of yet. Only grim smiles and tainted pleasures come from him. The man is an indefinite mystery, a riddle left unsolved, a stone left unturned and a mask left unveiled.
Dreadful Bloodshed
-Chapter One-
The land was dark, no life remained. The place was filled with an emptiness that would send a chill up your spine. The only movement that was made was that of the wind, and a lone stranger. He stood there alone, with an evil grin on his face, and a blood covered sword in his malevolent hands.
The stranger looked down at his latest victim. The fresh blood on his sword dripped onto the cold, dead body. He kicked the lifeless corpse and walked away from the seen, his long black hair and crimson cloak blowing in the sinister wind. His ominous red eyes were fixed on the lifeless area. He kept walking forward. He removed his eyes from the scene and faced forward. He mysteriously vanished into the wind, which died down slightly after he was gone.
This wasn’t the first place that had seen such death and devastation. This mysterious stranger had visited many areas; villages, and towns. All had seen death, and that same sinister wind was there, until the stranger was gone. No one ever survived to tell a soul of these horrific events, or of the strange feeling that you get when he’s near. Any that have ever witnessed him and these tragedies now lay lifelessly on the cold, blood-stained ground. The stranger seems to enjoy all this, getting a maleficent pleasure from others’ suffering, killing everyone and everything ruthlessly, and never toying around with them… much.
The stranger has no particular attacking pattern, he strikes when ever and where ever he pleases, waiting a while first, seeming harmless from the beginning, unthreatening; then when they all least expect it, he strikes and kills them all, leaving no person alive. His only weapon is a single, double edged crystal blade, harder and stronger than any alloy or diamonds, and more valuable than the purest gold. He also wears a light, black chain-mail armor, that doesn’t seem to affect his swift and meticulous kills. The sheath for the blade is fastened tightly on his left side; it is made out of pure gold, with many different jewels up and down on both sides, almost as valuable as his sword.
The stranger never speaks to anyone, even though he spends quite some time around his victims. The look he carries is always an emotionless expression. His long black hair never seems to get in his eyes; his crimson, grey trimmed cloak never gets in his way. His armor covers both the lower and upper parts of his body, still allowing him excellent mobility. He has a muscular build accompanied by a lofty height and attitude. He walks in a casual, sashay manner, almost as a glide. His sword mastery is marvelous and unmatchable. Many a people have fallen to his blade, and none have ever even touched him, his movement is as swift and deadly as his blade.
No one knows of the origin of this man, or how he has become so skillful in everything he does. His intensions are unclear and if others like him exist are unknown. If he is a pawn or a leader, human or immortal, dead or alive, all these things remain a mystery. Many things are indistinct and indefinite about him and his actions. The stranger remains unnamed and not a word has been spoken from him as of yet. Only grim smiles and tainted pleasures come from him. The man is an indefinite mystery, a riddle left unsolved, a stone left unturned and a mask left unveiled.