Yippie Kai Aye, Motherf*cker!! [size=1]post[/post]: Yea: posting just for the sake of posting is wrong, Now posting to get your post count up is a totally different story.
I was crawling into bed. And I had my red blanket. Good red blanky I call it. I lay very still and thought of dreaming. But I couldn’t.
I said, “I no sleep in here. Me red red blanky no more comfy for me!”
So I kick off my boots, thinking maybe I sleep better with them off. But that no work either.
So I got real mad and I scream loud. “My pillow did it! My pillow keep me awake! “
I flipped open my blade, appearing magic in my hand, and I stabbed the pillow over and over until shreds puffed up in its place!
The pillow bleed and say, “No, Please I good pillow. No be mean to pillow.”
My light was off. But the green light of my clock showed me my target well enough.
“I kill u pillow! You steal me sleep and I kill u for it!”
That’s when Brutus became aware of his situation. The bit of knowledge of his insanity, hanging on the brink of his consciousness, helped him comprehend why he was flailing a clenched fist into his pillow. He’s crazy; that is all.
His fit over, he plopped his head atop his battered, yet perfectly intact, pillow and slept.
13+. there’s no sexuality, or even any swearing.. Just a creepy story
(Gothic Horror)
{Re-edited, RePosted, still no title}
The carriage rumbled on into the night, it’s passengers no longer certain of their direction. They were quite certain that they were to have taken the left trail at the last fork in the road some 25 miles back.
Now, however, that assurety had worn thin. The road was winding upward around the base of the mountain as they were told it would, but was taking far longer than it should.
The weather here on the mountain was far worse than it had been on the coastline as well. A snow storm had come out of, seemingly, nowhere and at times threatened to push the carriage off the road and into the gorge below.
“What shall we do henry? this storm is getting worse." said Dylia to the figure beside her, who seemed annoyed at the obvious statement.
“No worries love, I’m quite sure the coachman knows what he’s doing." Henry stated while stuffing a pipe with fresh tobacco from a leather pouch upon his lap.
Dylia seemed as if she was going to retort, but kept her comment to herself, just as the carriage came to a stop.
The side door opened and a harsh wind blew promptly into the carriage.
A young man dressed in a fine coat, breeches and gloves befitting a coachman, but not a coachman in near arctic conditions, stood there shivering.
“Have you found it?" barked Henry before the driver had a chance to even stutter.
“N-No Sir, b-but i have f-found a road t-that leads into a sh-sheltered valley, the storm seems much less violent there, S-Sir." Dylia looked hopefully at Henry as he sighed in resignation.
“Very well, if we must take shelter for the eve, then so be it” The driver nodded curtly and closed the door tightly against the wind.
By the time the carriage made it down the steep and unkept road, if it could be called such, the storm had seemed to pass. Looking out the window, however, showed the storm still above them.
Possibly the sheer cliff face somehow blocked the winds from swooping down into the valley, one could only guess.
The horses slowed to a steady trot as the coachman, Frederic to his friends and family, looked into the gloom for someplace to turn off the road and camp for the evening.
A slow steady fog rolled uneassily in as the driver continued his search for a suitable place to pull in and possibly build a fire, he was quite starving, as he hadn’t eaten since the early afternoon.
He had this unnerving feeling of being watched, but that was just silly, not every road in every forest was haunted.
How many stories had he heard from his fellow drivers in the last year alone? Bah! coachmen were known to be worse than fisherman, with their tall tales and headless horsemen, yet still the feeling persisted.
Finally coming to a suitable spot, and direly needing to urinate, Frederic pulled off the road and into a clearing.
He knocked on the door to inform the snobs of his need to “use the facilities”, and moved into the trees to relieve himself.
It was while doing so that he noticed the worn foot path leading into the fog, and could that be the flicker of a lantern?
Behind him he heard his occupants stepping out of the carriage and stretching their road weary bones, turning back to look at them and make sure they didn’t plan on making him remove all their luggage.
When finally he looked back there was no light that he could discern, though the fog seemed to thicken in the mere moments he was not paying attention.
“Boy! is this where you plan on us encamping? This is wretched, i don’t even see a fresh stream!"
bitched Henry in his condescending tone, whilest Dylia apologized with a look in his direction.
“Sorry Sir, it seemed as good a spot as any we might find in this fog, but more importantly i believe i saw a light off yonder” Pointing in the direction he glimpsed the illumination.
Henry and Dylia walked closer to him and peered far into the distance.
“Are you daft? i see no light, just....fog” Said Henry with a snide smirk.
“Couldn’t we atleast check Dear? I mean i would rather find a comfy bed than sleep in that carriage” Pleaded Dylia in a voice whinier than she had intended, but Henry didn’t seem to notice,which was just as well.
“I suppose it could be worse, we could still be up in that storm.... oh fine, let us investigate this phantom light then”
And off the three strode, after taking some personal items and a comfortable change of clothing from the carriage ofcourse.
Walking the path was confusing, to say the least, as fog swirled and eddied around the small group, confusing their senses and seeming to swallow all sound from the forest around them.
There was very little evidence of the storm raging overhead, a mound of snow here and there, but nothing close to the drifts that were forming on the road they had escaped.
Even the temperature was that of a brisk spring morning, as opposed to the arctic gales in the mountain pass above.
After some time Dylia exclaimed “Henry! do you see it? a sign!" Henry started at her voice, his nerves clearly on edge.
“what?where?" Looking into the fog he spotted something. “If that is a sign it is an old one." Squinting into the fog, and drawing closer, they stood in front of an old dilapidated gateway leading off the path.
The hinges hanging, and what may once have been wooden doors, long since rotted away. Only four letters remained on the gateway, C E M E.
“Ceme? i’ve never heard of a town named Ceme” Declared Frederic, issuing a tert glance from henry, for speaking out of line.
“Yes well i am sure there are many things in this wide world you have never heard of COACHman, I myself HAVE heard of such a place” bellowed Henry in a pompous display.
“You have?" Inquired Dylia with hope clearly on her face
“Ofcourse! It’s a farming village, one of my servants was born there” He bluffed
“quickly, I am tired of walking and am famished, i say we find an Inn and bed down for the night” Off the path and through the towering gates they walked, slowing only as the fog lifted slightly and showed them the ramshackle village beyond.
Several people were milling about, with no obvious destination in mind, their clothing old and tattered, moth eaten and threadbare in places. Their faces, drawn and ashen, had obviously not seen the light of day in many years, if at all
“what is wrong with them Henry? they seem so..so Ghastly!" Clutching tightly to Henry’s arm he waved off the obvious peasantry
“It’s obvious this valley rarely sees daylight, they are obviously Anemic, i saw it many times at the asylum”
Speaking of his Schooling in London at the Mimico Asylum For the Unwell and Insane.
“These poor people” All around, there were people shuffling and milling about, some entering small, squat buildings that hadn’t seen repair for a hundred years.
Several buildings were boarded up, others collapsed, and at least one with no roof.
“Maybe we should leave, Sir” suggested Frederic, with an almost pleading look on his face.
“Nonsense, it may not be up to snuff, but it is better than that cramped wagon”
And so they walked steadilly, ignored by , but watching carefully, the populace.
In the distance a larger building could be seen, a sturdy structure akin to a tavern of sorts, with people entering and leaving, the only such gathering place they could see.
“See there? a Tavern, perhaps they have rooms, or more importantly food!" still unsure but egged on by the promise of sustanance, and perhaps a bed, the three entered the building.
More a cafeteria of the damned than a tavern, the building was a large room with no less that 12 long tables, many filled with people dining on some sort of stew.
A large bar along one wall had several pots of steaming hot stew, being served by more of the townsfolk, and a short line waiting to be served. Henry tried speaking to a young man, in his early 20’s and just as gaunt as his fellows, who merely walked past and out the door.
“How rude!" huffed Henry
“Maybe you should remind him of your station...Sir” Remarked Frederic, smirking, while Henry merely glared at him.
Dylia walked up to the line and kneeled to eye level with a young girl, no more than 10 “hello sweetheart, what is your name?" she said softly, charming the young girl into speach
“m-my name is Rebecca” said the young girl, in an unpracticed voice, clearly not used to speaking
“why hello Rebecca, that is such a beautiful name. I am Dylia” taking the young girl lightly by the fingertips, and frowning at the lack of strength in the girls hand.
“are your parents with you?" she asked, issuing a slow shake of the girls head “they have gone to get more giftboxes”
At which point Henry, tired of waiting while Dylia socialized with a waif, stepped in front of the two and grabbed a bowl to be filled with stew.
Frederic stepped past them as well, giving Dylia an apologetic shrug, and lined up for food, as his stomach growled audibly. Dylia was about to ask the girl more, but decided it could wait, and lined up behind her companions, still holding the little girls hand.
After being served, and futilely trying to strike up conversation with those serving, they took a seat at the furthest table they could find and began to eat.
Frederic was the first to notice the tough stringy texture to the meat, very dry and much like the jerky within trail rations, used by hunters in the english countryside.
The flavour itself was very bland with small, turnip like, root vegetables. Overall the stew reminded Frederic of the potato soup he was raised on as a child, but with dried venison thrown in as an after thought.
Looking around he saw that the townsfolk seemed to very much enjoy the meal, even Henry with his perpetual scowl, was shoveling it down, although his face showed a distaste for the dinner.
Dylia seemed nauseous and ate around the bits of meat, while the little girl, who’s hand she still held, seemed almost ravenous.
After the meal, in which Henry had seconds, the three left and walked Rebecca to her home.
Dylia had manged to get little more from the little girl, but had found out that she now lived alone in her families home, her parents aparently leaving some weeks ago to help with the “giftboxes”, whatever THEY might be.
The house was a near shambles, a single story house made from rotted planks nailed, and in some places tied, together. The only furnishings, a single bed and a makeshift cot against the far wall, and a table with three legs in the centre of the single room.
“This is where you have always lived?" asked Dylia with a hint of distaste.
“Oh no! we lived in a much smaller house before, but luckily the other family went to the giftboxes”
Henry obviously was disgusted with the conditions, but none of them had seen a better structure than this. Dylia seemed as if she wanted to pursue the topic with Rebecca, but everyone was tired from the journey through the mountains, so all turned in.
Dylia and Henry took the single bed, while Frederic shared the cot with Rebecca.
Frederic had been asleep but something, a sound?, had awoken him. He looked around while his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering in from the fog outside.
The door was ajar, a cold breeze blowing in and chilling him to the bones.
As his eyes became accustomed to the light, or lack thereof, he noticed that both he, and Henry, slept alone.
He stood abruptly and started shaking Henry harshly, causing a grunt from his snobbish passenger.
“What in the hells are you doing, you filthy sod?!?" crabbed Henry,still half asleep
“They are gone! Rebecca and Mistress Dylia!" Frederic nearly screamed
“Nonsense” mumbled Henry and placed his hand on the spot where his beloved had been, noticing just then the cold place on the bed.
Eyes flashing open and sitting bolt upright he grabbed Frederic by the collar “Where is she?!?!"
acting on reflex, and enjoying every second of it on hindsight, Frederic slapped Henry across the face and gasped for breath.
“I don’t know, i was asleep as YOU were!" he panted, and reminded his pompous Master “I awoke to a sound and the door was open”. The two quickly gained composure and headed outside into the fog.
They searched the entire town including the tavern where they ate, checking the door and finding it locked, until seeing what appeared to be two men carrying a box into the back of the tavern.
Henry seemed about to address the men when Frederic clapped a hand over his mouth and silenced him, pulling him behind a dilapidated house so as not to be seen.
“what are you doing?" whispered Henry harshly
“In case you didn’t notice, that my dear man, was a coffin” Henry looked sharply back towards the building, the shadowed figures, entered.
“You can’t be serious! what need would they have for coffins in the taver...."
Henry’s face showed he new exactly what might be needed from a coffin in the tavern, and promptly threw up the “meat” Gruel, behind the house they now used as cover.
After several minutes in the building, the two figures, left the tavern and headed out of the town square, followed closely by Henry and Frederic.
They neared the base of the mountain and saw, what appeared to be, a keep of some sort carved into the face of it.
The two figures slipped in through a door, disappearing into the depths of the mountain. As Henry and Frederic neared the entrance they could see a faint illumination from deep within.
They entered carefully, a rough hewn stair leading deep in the belly of the mountain in front of them, and the sound of feet scraping on stone. Slowly they moved,as quietly as possible, down into what must have once been a dungeon under the keep above.
They stopped in front of a cell door, where promptly they heard whimpering, Henry, nearly flying recklessly forward, stopped only at the last second by Frederic’s grip.
“that was Dylia! we must get to her before..before.." Henry left his whispered plea hanging
“if we are going to save them we must be careful, I’ve no clue whats beyond that door,do you?" Henry dropped his face and shook his head.
Frederic reached down to pick up a jagged rock, when his eyes caught something on the wall.
He turned to see what appeared to be a deep niche in the wall containing the bones of a child, visible gnaw marks on many.
His eyes followed the length and breadth of the walls where more and more niches were carved into every surface, all containing bones.
“Dear Lord..."
Just then two of the townspeople came out of the room, from which they had heard Dylia, and seemed stunned by Henry standing before them.
Frederic promptly swung the jagged rock as hard as he could muster, shearing off the top of one mans head killing him instantly , while Henry wrapped his hands around the second mans throat.
“You sick BASTARD, what is become of my wife!?!?!" he screamed, spittle flying onto the mans face.
Henry’s hands strangled the man 'till his fingers ached, and long past the point where the man died from suffocation.
The sound of Dylia brought Henry to his senses, he dropped the dead man and rushed into the room beyond, coming to a stop as he took in his surroundings, and Frederic quickly followed.
The room was like a large wagon wheel, a central dais containing a throne upon which sat a mummified corpse, with eight stone tables radiating out from the dais like spokes.
Each table had a body upon it, in various stages of mummification, surrounded by spiked metal armatures caging them in place.
Each table had a groove in the floor running from the table to the dais, all filled with a trickle of blood, that seemed to be coming from puncture wounds caused by the spiked arms.
Henry ran to Dylia as she whimpered from the wounds the spikes caused
“Henry!" she sobbed “they killed her, they killed rebecca” blood trickled out of her mouth as she spoke.
“Don’t worry Dylia! I-I’ll free you, all is w-well” He stammered, not nearly as certain as he tried to sound.
Frederic and Henry both looked the contraption up and down for a way to remove it from Dylia before it bled her dry as it seemed to do to the other bodies upon the 7 other tables, one of which was rebecca who seemed long since dead.
“There are two levers” whispered Frederic, looking the machine over thoroughly
“yes but which one Damnit!?" Pleaded Henry.
“I.. I think it’s this one” Said Frederic, placing his hand upon a lever...
“No! it must be THIS one” challenged Henry, his hand on a seperate handle
“Are you possitive?" asked Frederic, completely unsure of himself as well as of his Master.
“YES! I am the scholar! I am the one who has the best schooling, what would YOU know about this?"
Pulling the handle and hearing the sound of the arms moving “see?"
he pointed triumphantly, a split second before Dylia’s screams sent a chill through his very soul.
The metal arms started to rotate, while the spikes remained firmly in Dylia’s flesh, rending skin, muscle and bone.
Blood and gore poured down the table into the groove, flooding into the dais while the screams persisted, followed by the sound of Henry screaming as a hand protuding from his chest held his still beating heart...
Frederic looked in complete fright and hysteria as the corpse that had been mummified and seated, a second earlier, stood behind Henry with a look of insane glea upon it’s reforming face.
Frederic swung the jagged rock as hard as he could at the creature, hoping to kill it before it had a chance to do the same to him as it had to Henry........
.......The carriage rumbled on into the night, it’s passenger now certain of his direction.
He was quite pleased with his escape from that wretched keep, all that blood, all that gore only reminded him of just how hungry he had been for the last 300 years.
Luckily for him he had found this wonderful wheeled construct, so much more comfortable than horseback. Not to mention the fine clothes and wonderful map.
London would be quite beautiful this time of year......
James R. LeClair
--- “close your bodily eye so that you may see your picture first with the spiritual eye” “The artist should not only paint what he sees before him, but also what he sees in himself” ~Caspar David Friedrich~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James R. LeClair wrote:
13+. there’s no sexuality, or even any swearing.. Just a creepy story
(Gothic Horror)
{Re-edited, RePosted, still no title}
The carriage rumbled on into the night, it’s passengers no longer certain of their direction. They were quite certain that they were to have taken the left trail at the last fork in the road some 25 miles back.
Now, however, that assurety had worn thin. The road was winding upward around the base of the mountain as they were told it would, but was taking far longer than it should.
The weather here on the mountain was far worse than it had been on the coastline as well. A snow storm had come out of, seemingly, nowhere and at times threatened to push the carriage off the road and into the gorge below.
“What shall we do henry? this storm is getting worse." said Dylia to the figure beside her, who seemed annoyed at the obvious statement.
“No worries love, I’m quite sure the coachman knows what he’s doing." Henry stated while stuffing a pipe with fresh tobacco from a leather pouch upon his lap.
Dylia seemed as if she was going to retort, but kept her comment to herself, just as the carriage came to a stop.
The side door opened and a harsh wind blew promptly into the carriage.
A young man dressed in a fine coat, breeches and gloves befitting a coachman, but not a coachman in near arctic conditions, stood there shivering.
“Have you found it?" barked Henry before the driver had a chance to even stutter.
“N-No Sir, b-but i have f-found a road t-that leads into a sh-sheltered valley, the storm seems much less violent there, S-Sir." Dylia looked hopefully at Henry as he sighed in resignation.
“Very well, if we must take shelter for the eve, then so be it” The driver nodded curtly and closed the door tightly against the wind.
By the time the carriage made it down the steep and unkept road, if it could be called such, the storm had seemed to pass. Looking out the window, however, showed the storm still above them.
Possibly the sheer cliff face somehow blocked the winds from swooping down into the valley, one could only guess.
The horses slowed to a steady trot as the coachman, Frederic to his friends and family, looked into the gloom for someplace to turn off the road and camp for the evening.
A slow steady fog rolled uneassily in as the driver continued his search for a suitable place to pull in and possibly build a fire, he was quite starving, as he hadn’t eaten since the early afternoon.
He had this unnerving feeling of being watched, but that was just silly, not every road in every forest was haunted.
How many stories had he heard from his fellow drivers in the last year alone? Bah! coachmen were known to be worse than fisherman, with their tall tales and headless horsemen, yet still the feeling persisted.
Finally coming to a suitable spot, and direly needing to urinate, Frederic pulled off the road and into a clearing.
He knocked on the door to inform the snobs of his need to “use the facilities”, and moved into the trees to relieve himself.
It was while doing so that he noticed the worn foot path leading into the fog, and could that be the flicker of a lantern?
Behind him he heard his occupants stepping out of the carriage and stretching their road weary bones, turning back to look at them and make sure they didn’t plan on making him remove all their luggage.
When finally he looked back there was no light that he could discern, though the fog seemed to thicken in the mere moments he was not paying attention.
“Boy! is this where you plan on us encamping? This is wretched, i don’t even see a fresh stream!"
bitched Henry in his condescending tone, whilest Dylia apologized with a look in his direction.
“Sorry Sir, it seemed as good a spot as any we might find in this fog, but more importantly i believe i saw a light off yonder” Pointing in the direction he glimpsed the illumination.
Henry and Dylia walked closer to him and peered far into the distance.
“Are you daft? i see no light, just....fog” Said Henry with a snide smirk.
“Couldn’t we atleast check Dear? I mean i would rather find a comfy bed than sleep in that carriage” Pleaded Dylia in a voice whinier than she had intended, but Henry didn’t seem to notice,which was just as well.
“I suppose it could be worse, we could still be up in that storm.... oh fine, let us investigate this phantom light then”
And off the three strode, after taking some personal items and a comfortable change of clothing from the carriage ofcourse.
Walking the path was confusing, to say the least, as fog swirled and eddied around the small group, confusing their senses and seeming to swallow all sound from the forest around them.
There was very little evidence of the storm raging overhead, a mound of snow here and there, but nothing close to the drifts that were forming on the road they had escaped.
Even the temperature was that of a brisk spring morning, as opposed to the arctic gales in the mountain pass above.
After some time Dylia exclaimed “Henry! do you see it? a sign!" Henry started at her voice, his nerves clearly on edge.
“what?where?" Looking into the fog he spotted something. “If that is a sign it is an old one." Squinting into the fog, and drawing closer, they stood in front of an old dilapidated gateway leading off the path.
The hinges hanging, and what may once have been wooden doors, long since rotted away. Only four letters remained on the gateway, C E M E.
“Ceme? i’ve never heard of a town named Ceme” Declared Frederic, issuing a tert glance from henry, for speaking out of line.
“Yes well i am sure there are many things in this wide world you have never heard of COACHman, I myself HAVE heard of such a place” bellowed Henry in a pompous display.
“You have?" Inquired Dylia with hope clearly on her face
“Ofcourse! It’s a farming village, one of my servants was born there” He bluffed
“quickly, I am tired of walking and am famished, i say we find an Inn and bed down for the night” Off the path and through the towering gates they walked, slowing only as the fog lifted slightly and showed them the ramshackle village beyond.
Several people were milling about, with no obvious destination in mind, their clothing old and tattered, moth eaten and threadbare in places. Their faces, drawn and ashen, had obviously not seen the light of day in many years, if at all
“what is wrong with them Henry? they seem so..so Ghastly!" Clutching tightly to Henry’s arm he waved off the obvious peasantry
“It’s obvious this valley rarely sees daylight, they are obviously Anemic, i saw it many times at the asylum”
Speaking of his Schooling in London at the Mimico Asylum For the Unwell and Insane.
“These poor people” All around, there were people shuffling and milling about, some entering small, squat buildings that hadn’t seen repair for a hundred years.
Several buildings were boarded up, others collapsed, and at least one with no roof.
“Maybe we should leave, Sir” suggested Frederic, with an almost pleading look on his face.
“Nonsense, it may not be up to snuff, but it is better than that cramped wagon”
And so they walked steadilly, ignored by , but watching carefully, the populace.
In the distance a larger building could be seen, a sturdy structure akin to a tavern of sorts, with people entering and leaving, the only such gathering place they could see.
“See there? a Tavern, perhaps they have rooms, or more importantly food!" still unsure but egged on by the promise of sustanance, and perhaps a bed, the three entered the building.
More a cafeteria of the damned than a tavern, the building was a large room with no less that 12 long tables, many filled with people dining on some sort of stew.
A large bar along one wall had several pots of steaming hot stew, being served by more of the townsfolk, and a short line waiting to be served. Henry tried speaking to a young man, in his early 20’s and just as gaunt as his fellows, who merely walked past and out the door.
“How rude!" huffed Henry
“Maybe you should remind him of your station...Sir” Remarked Frederic, smirking, while Henry merely glared at him.
Dylia walked up to the line and kneeled to eye level with a young girl, no more than 10 “hello sweetheart, what is your name?" she said softly, charming the young girl into speach
“m-my name is Rebecca” said the young girl, in an unpracticed voice, clearly not used to speaking
“why hello Rebecca, that is such a beautiful name. I am Dylia” taking the young girl lightly by the fingertips, and frowning at the lack of strength in the girls hand.
“are your parents with you?" she asked, issuing a slow shake of the girls head “they have gone to get more giftboxes”
At which point Henry, tired of waiting while Dylia socialized with a waif, stepped in front of the two and grabbed a bowl to be filled with stew.
Frederic stepped past them as well, giving Dylia an apologetic shrug, and lined up for food, as his stomach growled audibly. Dylia was about to ask the girl more, but decided it could wait, and lined up behind her companions, still holding the little girls hand.
After being served, and futilely trying to strike up conversation with those serving, they took a seat at the furthest table they could find and began to eat.
Frederic was the first to notice the tough stringy texture to the meat, very dry and much like the jerky within trail rations, used by hunters in the english countryside.
The flavour itself was very bland with small, turnip like, root vegetables. Overall the stew reminded Frederic of the potato soup he was raised on as a child, but with dried venison thrown in as an after thought.
Looking around he saw that the townsfolk seemed to very much enjoy the meal, even Henry with his perpetual scowl, was shoveling it down, although his face showed a distaste for the dinner.
Dylia seemed nauseous and ate around the bits of meat, while the little girl, who’s hand she still held, seemed almost ravenous.
After the meal, in which Henry had seconds, the three left and walked Rebecca to her home.
Dylia had manged to get little more from the little girl, but had found out that she now lived alone in her families home, her parents aparently leaving some weeks ago to help with the “giftboxes”, whatever THEY might be.
The house was a near shambles, a single story house made from rotted planks nailed, and in some places tied, together. The only furnishings, a single bed and a makeshift cot against the far wall, and a table with three legs in the centre of the single room.
“This is where you have always lived?" asked Dylia with a hint of distaste.
“Oh no! we lived in a much smaller house before, but luckily the other family went to the giftboxes”
Henry obviously was disgusted with the conditions, but none of them had seen a better structure than this. Dylia seemed as if she wanted to pursue the topic with Rebecca, but everyone was tired from the journey through the mountains, so all turned in.
Dylia and Henry took the single bed, while Frederic shared the cot with Rebecca.
Frederic had been asleep but something, a sound?, had awoken him. He looked around while his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering in from the fog outside.
The door was ajar, a cold breeze blowing in and chilling him to the bones.
As his eyes became accustomed to the light, or lack thereof, he noticed that both he, and Henry, slept alone.
He stood abruptly and started shaking Henry harshly, causing a grunt from his snobbish passenger.
“What in the hells are you doing, you filthy sod?!?" crabbed Henry,still half asleep
“They are gone! Rebecca and Mistress Dylia!" Frederic nearly screamed
“Nonsense” mumbled Henry and placed his hand on the spot where his beloved had been, noticing just then the cold place on the bed.
Eyes flashing open and sitting bolt upright he grabbed Frederic by the collar “Where is she?!?!"
acting on reflex, and enjoying every second of it on hindsight, Frederic slapped Henry across the face and gasped for breath.
“I don’t know, i was asleep as YOU were!" he panted, and reminded his pompous Master “I awoke to a sound and the door was open”. The two quickly gained composure and headed outside into the fog.
They searched the entire town including the tavern where they ate, checking the door and finding it locked, until seeing what appeared to be two men carrying a box into the back of the tavern.
Henry seemed about to address the men when Frederic clapped a hand over his mouth and silenced him, pulling him behind a dilapidated house so as not to be seen.
“what are you doing?" whispered Henry harshly
“In case you didn’t notice, that my dear man, was a coffin” Henry looked sharply back towards the building, the shadowed figures, entered.
“You can’t be serious! what need would they have for coffins in the taver...."
Henry’s face showed he new exactly what might be needed from a coffin in the tavern, and promptly threw up the “meat” Gruel, behind the house they now used as cover.
After several minutes in the building, the two figures, left the tavern and headed out of the town square, followed closely by Henry and Frederic.
They neared the base of the mountain and saw, what appeared to be, a keep of some sort carved into the face of it.
The two figures slipped in through a door, disappearing into the depths of the mountain. As Henry and Frederic neared the entrance they could see a faint illumination from deep within.
They entered carefully, a rough hewn stair leading deep in the belly of the mountain in front of them, and the sound of feet scraping on stone. Slowly they moved,as quietly as possible, down into what must have once been a dungeon under the keep above.
They stopped in front of a cell door, where promptly they heard whimpering, Henry, nearly flying recklessly forward, stopped only at the last second by Frederic’s grip.
“that was Dylia! we must get to her before..before.." Henry left his whispered plea hanging
“if we are going to save them we must be careful, I’ve no clue whats beyond that door,do you?" Henry dropped his face and shook his head.
Frederic reached down to pick up a jagged rock, when his eyes caught something on the wall.
He turned to see what appeared to be a deep niche in the wall containing the bones of a child, visible gnaw marks on many.
His eyes followed the length and breadth of the walls where more and more niches were carved into every surface, all containing bones.
“Dear Lord..."
Just then two of the townspeople came out of the room, from which they had heard Dylia, and seemed stunned by Henry standing before them.
Frederic promptly swung the jagged rock as hard as he could muster, shearing off the top of one mans head killing him instantly , while Henry wrapped his hands around the second mans throat.
“You sick BASTARD, what is become of my wife!?!?!" he screamed, spittle flying onto the mans face.
Henry’s hands strangled the man 'till his fingers ached, and long past the point where the man died from suffocation.
The sound of Dylia brought Henry to his senses, he dropped the dead man and rushed into the room beyond, coming to a stop as he took in his surroundings, and Frederic quickly followed.
The room was like a large wagon wheel, a central dais containing a throne upon which sat a mummified corpse, with eight stone tables radiating out from the dais like spokes.
Each table had a body upon it, in various stages of mummification, surrounded by spiked metal armatures caging them in place.
Each table had a groove in the floor running from the table to the dais, all filled with a trickle of blood, that seemed to be coming from puncture wounds caused by the spiked arms.
Henry ran to Dylia as she whimpered from the wounds the spikes caused
“Henry!" she sobbed “they killed her, they killed rebecca” blood trickled out of her mouth as she spoke.
“Don’t worry Dylia! I-I’ll free you, all is w-well” He stammered, not nearly as certain as he tried to sound.
Frederic and Henry both looked the contraption up and down for a way to remove it from Dylia before it bled her dry as it seemed to do to the other bodies upon the 7 other tables, one of which was rebecca who seemed long since dead.
“There are two levers” whispered Frederic, looking the machine over thoroughly
“yes but which one Damnit!?" Pleaded Henry.
“I.. I think it’s this one” Said Frederic, placing his hand upon a lever...
“No! it must be THIS one” challenged Henry, his hand on a seperate handle
“Are you possitive?" asked Frederic, completely unsure of himself as well as of his Master.
“YES! I am the scholar! I am the one who has the best schooling, what would YOU know about this?"
Pulling the handle and hearing the sound of the arms moving “see?"
he pointed triumphantly, a split second before Dylia’s screams sent a chill through his very soul.
The metal arms started to rotate, while the spikes remained firmly in Dylia’s flesh, rending skin, muscle and bone.
Blood and gore poured down the table into the groove, flooding into the dais while the screams persisted, followed by the sound of Henry screaming as a hand protuding from his chest held his still beating heart...
Frederic looked in complete fright and hysteria as the corpse that had been mummified and seated, a second earlier, stood behind Henry with a look of insane glea upon it’s reforming face.
Frederic swung the jagged rock as hard as he could at the creature, hoping to kill it before it had a chance to do the same to him as it had to Henry........
.......The carriage rumbled on into the night, it’s passenger now certain of his direction.
He was quite pleased with his escape from that wretched keep, all that blood, all that gore only reminded him of just how hungry he had been for the last 300 years.
Luckily for him he had found this wonderful wheeled construct, so much more comfortable than horseback. Not to mention the fine clothes and wonderful map.
London would be quite beautiful this time of year......
James R. LeClair
thank you so much,,,somthing interesting finally
--- "I’m sorry for all the things that never happened and everything we never had...“
mimi38 wrote:
thank you so much,,,somthing interesting finally
aww thanks YouYou.. err I mean MiMi
by the way {because many people don’t clue in, even after reading, and rarely reread} the “town” name C E M E is the first 4 letters of Cemetery
--- “close your bodily eye so that you may see your picture first with the spiritual eye” “The artist should not only paint what he sees before him, but also what he sees in himself” ~Caspar David Friedrich~
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Sitting on the cold bench of the doctors sergery jason found time to consider time as a level"BUGGER! i dont get it” he thought to himself " how on earth would you know i mean like pre birth whats that?" he gave up after a while it was giving him a headache “you ok?" the doctor asked as he passed Jason a glass of water “NO!" Jason snarrled back " where am i some sort of milatry testing base or what?" there was a pause “no would be the easeast ansawer to that qustion” the docter replied " how old are you son " the docter went on totaly by passing the question “fifteen why” he didnt like this man he was a bit shifty in his eyes and he smelt of chemicals Jason new the smell from his sience classes at shool the old man that teaches him smells like it too and he hated him, " you must be the first live fifteen year old we’ve had come through the prayloe you must be proud” “wait what did you say prayloe! whats that?" Jason pictured the triangular object in his mind " it’s the gate you came through the others call it a prayloe there scattered throughout the whole place” 2you mean theres more than one?" Jason was shocked at the thought “well it’s only logical realy with the amout of people that come through them one just is’nt anoght”.
“AND!what do you mean the fist live one” Jason stood up to confront the docter “well dont you know where you are, i thought you new” the doc backed off as Jason walked towards him " Look here you i want some ansawers now, Where am i what is this place and why am i here?" Jasons couldnt help getting angrey it was in his nature the teachers at school had him kept behind all the time because of his temperment.
The doc stumbbled back as Jason got closer “No wait!“the doc cryed " i’ll tell you, i’ll tell you” with that the door of the surgery flew open “Are you Jason toms!" a deep voice grould Jason turned, in the door way was a hazey white light flouting about four feet in the air in the center you could just make out a small mouth no eyes no legs and no arms “Well are you or arnt you Jason toms com’on i havent all day” “Thank goodness your here” the doc wimpered “yes this is him the one you want"The light just hovered by the door, Jason could feel himself walking towards it but it was’nt him doing the walking, but it was hopless he couldnt do any thing about it
“WHAT THE!" Jasons lips didnt move “come with me your fathers waiting for you " the voice said, Jason had no way of knowing what was about to happen his feet lifted off the grownd and his body jurked.
When he awoke there were three people looking over him he could here them talking “is he ok” one asked “he’ll be fine” the other replied “jason! Jason! wake up” the voice sounded formilier it was his father “but he’s dead” he thought " i saw him jump from the bridge”“Jason you ok come on son speak to me” Jason shacked his eyes awake “father what are you doing here” he said as he lifted hime self up from the bed, Jasons farther gave him a hand to get up “it’s ok son your in a safe place now” his farther pointed to the lighted object that brought Jason to him “thats an Akue they protect things round here there are friends and they guid us in to the next level” Jason looked at his father and then at the other two people stood there “who are they?" “that’s brady my assistent at the lab and thats john he’s goverment he dosnt trust everything here yet, but i do from what i’ve seen this is where we go when we pass on” “you meen dead, this is where we go when where dead i dont understand all this how can it be am i dead? i dont get it” Jasons face droped “no your not dead thats what i tryed to tell you, i found the way to come here without dieing through a object i found in Nirowbie in a small church they called it the Tukken they believed it lit the path to a better place well guess what it dose"
“The priest in the church said it came from a unknown stranger
that visited them many hundreds of years ago but as soon as he
arrived he was gone some say in a ball of light, the priests
say his name was Jee’sewes and he went on to become a great man”
“OH MY GOD JESUS!" Jason screamed “NO! it couldnt be could it”
his father shrugged his sholders “i dont know but could be”
A voice came from behind the “Are you ready to move on now” Jason turned.
I exited the building and kept on running, making sure that I looked like I was doing surveillance. Then, when I saw no cameras and no people, I started walking again. Good. Now I can go back to the KGMB (Krimzon Guard Military Barracks).
I found a fast zoomer and donned it. I drove straight, not making any turns, hoping that I’d stumble upon something that would help me know where the hell I was. That’s when a thought struck me. I wonder if this car has a GPS? Fortunately, it did. Unfortunately, when I activated the GPS, the zoomer notified it’s owner that it was being driven. The owner was one of Torn’s right-hand assistants.
The assistant’s name was Huntin, better known as Grinder because he had competed the Hover-bike Tournament 6 times and had won every time. He was also a traitor to Baron Praxis, because he used to be Baron Praxis’ right-hand man. Torn had come upon Grinder by chance in the alleys during a recon mission. He tore off Grinder’s pinky and index finger (on his left hand-he was right-handed) with a single blaster mod round. The only reason he hadn’t been was because he had claimed to know where the KGM’s weapons factory was (and he had). 1 year later (because of Grinder) Jak destroyed the weapons factory and the KGM was badly handicapped because of it. And because of this, Grinder was allowed to stay alive.
Grinder was currently drinking a pint of whiskey, reading an article about the Baron. The article was this:
The Baron Inquirer
Baron’s Car Wrecked by Resistance Hooligans
(Friday September 21) 4 months ago, Baron Praxis had bought a brand new state-of-the-art Z60 Dailand (car specs on page 3, Section . Now, that Dailand is in the big patch of airspace in the sky. Outraged, Baron Praxis has declared that every house, zoomer, restaurant, and public bathroom in Haven City is viable for the Privacy Protection Act (information on the Privacy Protection Act on Page 4, section , enforceable next thursday. (This article was written by Johan Tongs, a loyal and trustworthy follower of Baron Praxis)
Read the interview of Baron Praxis on page 4, Section A.
“What the hell is this Privacy Protection Act?” Said Grinder. “What ever it is, it can’t be good.” Grinder turned to page 4 to read about it.
Page 4, Section B
The Privacy Protection Act
Enforceable next tuesday, the Privacy Protection Act will end crime in Haven City. Krimzon Guards will not need a search warrant to enter suspected areas of Resistance residence, and will be allowed to make an arrest immediately. Thus ends the harassment, debauchery and casualties caused by Resistance activities. The Baron was actually able to give us his speech, which can be found on page 5, Section C.
Grinder was outraged. He angrily said, “What a load of bullsh-” He was interrupted by a beeping sound made by his watch. Grinder immediately knew what was going on. He called up the video feed to see who it was. The picture was grainy for a second, and then a figure appeared. The figure was light-skinned and had short, brown hair. His eyes were hazelish-brown and he was wearing a male nurse outfit. What the hell is a nurse doing stealing my zoomer, thought Grinder. Grinder decided that he had better phone somebody.
At that moment, I was heading straight for the KGMB. I had driven a few miles when I noticed a few figures on foot. They were carrying guns and had red uniforms. They’re just Krimzon Guards. What the hell am I worried about? All the same those men made me nervous, so I sped up a little. Suddenly, the men started walking faster. I was shocked. They’re stalking me! What am I thinking, I thought. They couldn’t possibly be after me! I wasn’t convinced. I sped up a lot. The men ran. I became genuinely frightened. They are definitely stalking me. I stomped on the gas and lost them.
After a while I slowed down, and I was feeling like an idiot. What the hell was I thinking? They weren’t stalking me! I relaxed and started heading for the KGMB again. Right then, someone started honking. Is it behind me? I turned around and looked. I guess not. I was about to turn around when I thought I saw someone familiar. I looked closely into the zoomers and I saw the two armed men, aiming a gun at my head. Oh my god! I’m about to die! They fired. In that split second, I jumped out of the car and into a mother’s car, and she screamed. The car exploded, causing panic and more screams. What the hell! They’re actually firing! And in a crowded lane! People could die! Suddenly, one of the men jumped into the zoomer I was in, and the mother got out of the car, taking her children with her. He said, “You better come with us unless you wanna-” I punched him in the chest. He stumbled back and was about to fall out of the zoomer. The other guy started firing. I need a weapon, and fast! Before the first guy fell out I grabbed his gun. A standard issue KG 17 semi-automatic rifle! Where the hell did these people get these! I didn’t have much time to think about that though, because the second guy fired again and took off the whole back seat. I better get out of here. I stomped on the gas and drove away.
I hadn’t lost the man, of course. He was hot on my tail. And to make matters worse, he brought out a Vulcan gun mod. Where the hell is he getting this! If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to have to remember to tell Arnold to keep a closer tab on weapons distribution. The man started firing again. Is he crazy! At that second I noticed a large body of water. I decided to go down there. I had been lucky to go down when I did because at that second, a blue ball of energy exploded into thousands of hot electric bolts. Jesus Christ, he has a Peace Maker! I am going to sue the hell out of whoever makes those gun mods!
I stayed in the water for a long time, zig-zagging so I wouldn’t be an easy target. Eventually I came to a dead-end. I went back up out of the water. The man was still behind me, firing. I dodged every shot except for one, which took out the engine-cooler. I knew this because I started noticing that the car was getting hotter. This zoomer is not going to last long! I gotta get out of here! I lowered the zoomer to the ground and got out. I started running and shouted, “Everybody get away! The car’s going to explode!” No one budged. I looked at my gun. Maybe they need some motivation. I took out my gun and fired 4 times in the air. Everybody started running and hollering. then I turned around and shot at the enemy’s zoomer 6 times. 4 of the bulllets made their mark, going into the front bumper and one into the enemy’s elbow. His arm exploded, raining a pile of blood and bone on the pedestrians. The man screamed and started losing control of the wheel. His zoomer fell to the ground and exploded, causing a chain reaction with my zoomer. They both exploded, killing at least 4 pedestrians. I stood there, mouth gaping. I got a sick feeling in my gut. People had died while I was on the job. Was this what it meant to be a soldier?
While I was standing there like a fool a man got behind be, gun out, and put me in a headlock. “You’re coming with me,” said the man, and then he hit me in the forehead with the butt of his gun. I instantly fell unconscious. My last thought was this: I don’t want to be a soldier.
“Split up, I’ll take the right stairs, Cary take the elevator and James take the left stairs. Move!"
James found himself in heavy fire against a dozen diablos and only had 3 more officers helping him. It was his job to do this sort of thing, but not with 4 men against 12. He checked his pocket, and found a smoke grenade that he used in another gang shootout.
“Get down! Come on, the smoke’s distracted them for now!"
“Sir, there are too many of them! We can’t kill them all!"
“True, but we can still try and get to their leader! If we kill El Burro, they might think about surrenderring!"
“Listen, you keep me covered and I’ll try and get to El Burro!"
“Yes sir!"
The elevator slowly kept going up to the last floor like it had’nt been used in years. Creak!
“What the?"
The old doors opened, and Cary found himself right at the peak point of fire. Cary ran out the elevator while a grenade was thrown at him,the grenade blew up the elevator and the building caught fire. Cary stood right outside El burro’s room, but woudld not go in without Nick and James.
Nick did’nt find many guarding the stairs he went up, until he got to the top floor there were hardly any guards. Nick took a couple of shots at them unitl he was hit in the leg.
“Ahhh, damn...." moaned Nick
“Any last words?" said one of the guards who was right close to him holding a gun to his stomach.
“Just one question."
“What?"
“How does it feel to be kicked in the balls?"
“Ow!Ow!" said the guard as Nick unleashed a kick at him. He then punched his face and stamped on him. He shot the other guard and kept running while limping on his left leg.
I should get back to work on this mario Fanfic me and my friend have worked on for a while... Guess i will.
For anyone interested, it was like a more mature, vulgar, and definatly more violent mario with some pretty strange stuff, some awkward humor, new people, and all around weirdness... expect it in a while...
The two of me.
By Scott Drechsler
8/4/07
Copyright and intellectual property of Scott Drechsler
Out of place and out of time
That is how I’ll start this rhyme.
This thread tis bout darkness
and darkness you find
enveloped within
this lyrical chime
My life’s an enigma
My past is a riddle
Then there little ol me
who’s caught in the middle
Theres two sides to me
just like a nickel
I betch you cant guess
which plays second fiddle
As I mentioned before
This time’s not my own
My true spirit of self
Is a long way from home
I long for the battles
The bloodsheded grin
the screams of anguish and sorrow
Of agony and sin
Inside’s trapped a warrior
A long feral thing
But no ones deemed worthy
to be his favorite plaything.
Long gone are the times
Of honor and grace
The pathways un-broken
By technology and faith
Where every step taken
No matter the pace
Could see you life ended
You final resting place
For every yin there is a yang
To darkness there is light
For every pain there is a pang
of devilish delight.
For evil lurks within us all
Tis the nature of the beast
I long to fight both tooth and claw
The monster yerns to feast.
Cursed I am this retched life
Of society and things
Locked away this darkness rife
A mournful cry it sings
For times have changed but i have not
Venturing deep I did go
To find out why
I did not stop
crimson blood
it shed and flowed
Deeper and deeper
I ventured forth
peeling back layers
to seek out the source
The damage was done
The monster sprang forth
Awoke was the sleeper
who tore at his keeper
A battle raged on
Between goodness and bad
Of which there were casualties
of Wolven and Man
The code of the Warrior
The nature of Beasts
No alliance was struck
Segregated I am.
This uneasy union
that was struck long ago
has been much one sided
the cracks starting to show
My other is calling
Beckoning come in
come join the darkness
come join us in sin
Together we’ll be happy
I promise, I care
The bloodlust I’ll work on
the pleasure we’ll share.
The flesh we can render
The screams in the air
They all will deserve it
The truth that I swear.
For years now this has gone on
well 12 to be exact
12 years of remaining guarded
Of watching and act
And yet he still whispers
come on make us whole.
His tight furry fingers
they pull at my soul
My life is a nightmare
this much is told
My true self is locked up
I can not ever be whole
Of times I do wonder
More times come of late
if union is possible
or is that tempting fate
So now there you have it
A glimpse you did see
A moment of insight
In what its like to be me.
mr 1 2 i dont like you wrote:
Thanks. Also, if you are into street crime, you might want to check out my story on page 6. I have 4 chapters so far.
not bad mate.
dont know why but it reminded my of a game i used to play called gran fifth erto.
i think coz there wos a gang called diablo’s. err i could be wrong about that.
but any way you have 5 chapters up to yet. check back you well see.
and come on, you can not give it no ending know can you.
bobsterssss wrote:
— — A Night With Brutus Kicks Ass — -
I was crawling into bed. And I had my red blanket. Good red blanky I call it. I lay very still and thought of dreaming. But I couldn’t.
I said, “I no sleep in here. Me red red blanky no more comfy for me!”
So I kick off my boots, thinking maybe I sleep better with them off. But that no work either.
So I got real mad and I scream loud. “My pillow did it! My pillow keep me awake! “
I flipped open my blade, appearing magic in my hand, and I stabbed the pillow over and over until shreds puffed up in its place!
The pillow bleed and say, “No, Please I good pillow. No be mean to pillow.”
My light was off. But the green light of my clock showed me my target well enough.
“I kill u pillow! You steal me sleep and I kill u for it!”
That’s when Brutus became aware of his situation. The bit of knowledge of his insanity, hanging on the brink of his consciousness, helped him comprehend why he was flailing a clenched fist into his pillow. He’s crazy; that is all.
His fit over, he plopped his head atop his battered, yet perfectly intact, pillow and slept.
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Arts/Creativity
» Short Story Fan Fiction Forum
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. Now, that Dailand is in the big patch of airspace in the sky. Outraged, Baron Praxis has declared that every house, zoomer, restaurant, and public bathroom in Haven City is viable for the Privacy Protection Act (information on the Privacy Protection Act on Page 4, section 
