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Crimson Vengeance for CreepieMonetThe light browns of the Morrocan village once stirred the villagers' hearts; they loved their small town, they loved knowing everyone who lived nearby, but that had all changed
One night was all it took to rip out the peace and replace it with terror; one night of bloodlust flowing through the town; grown men were reduced to their knees; respected elders were reduced to the common rabble. Everyone in Asilah fell to the very ground they made their livelihoods on, and all because one man chose one town to run down.
Children and elderly rushed about the streets, seeking hiding places. Women and wives carried buckets of water to burning huts. Grown men planned an offensive, but nothing they did would work; they faced a mad man; a man who had lost all hope for his world, and instead turned to murder; he turned to rape. Any young girl that crossed his path became violated; a baker's daughter fell to her knees in front of the man; her hair a mess and her face splattered faintly in blood
Commission: Spoils of a Treasure HunterThe pizzeria had the finest take on synthesising the perfect Supreme pizza; the capsicum sat atop a bed of thinly sliced ham, and the pineapple rested in amongst the olive fragments. Øyvind Herstad considered it a marvelous indulgence; the perfect requisite for his next great treasure hunt with his delectably gorgeous companions Kaitlyn and Kara Walker.
"Ah yes girls" He spoke intelligently, although not so much the words, as the way he portrayed them across the thin, cool air "Another heist completed, another trophy to add to your walls. It is time however, for us to begin again. I've heard rumour of a treasure crypt in Greece; rumours tell of great fortune befitting a conquering knight. This is where we will head to next."
Kara smiled and glanced around the room, her long brown and white striped hair flowing over her shoulders. The drink in her hand remained still and unnerved as she examined the pizzeria.
"I've heard of this crypt" she spoke quietly, "I've heard t
The Truth Is Hard"Like a rock" she said,
Eyes glinting in the sun,
Shining in their purity,
Blink; then continue;
"Like a brick; like a bone,
Like the urge of a soldier,
trying to go home".
"Like the pain of what was,
And what is still to come"
In grief, she bowed her head;
With grief she became numb.
"You see, I lost the one I loved;
I don't know what to do,
I told him that I would change,
He said "It's me, it isn't you."
"Yet overtime I came to learn,
That what he said was false"
With tears she fell onto the ground,
Filled with dread and dark remorse.
"I would rather have lived with his lies,
Than to know what I learned today,
Because "It's not you" was a lie,
Just like my "I'm okay"".
"The truth is hard" I said to her,
And reassured her thus;
"But although he didn't count on it,
We're not you, we're us"
"We'll stick together; I'll help you through,
Get you back onto your feet;
You're not a victim; you're victorious,
And he, we will defeat."
Waiting Silently in a Tattered Rocking ChairSilence.
She sat in complete silence.
Outside the dull, grey walls of her twelfth-story apartment, the world moved endlessly, noisily.
But to her, there was silence. Complete silence.
A ceiling fan rotated slowly above her; a fly lay dead on the window sill beside her; the festering corpse of a mouse lay putridly on the carpet in the corner of the hot, humid room across from her.
Yet, she sat in silence.
The window was home to a single potted plant; a small green sapling growing hesitantly out into the ever-putrid air of the apartment. It's dish had long-since cracked in the heat, and rot where the water leaks through had slowly begun to develop.
A child's watering can, no bigger than her palm, rested - a faded red - on a table beside the window. The plastic bubbled in the heat; large bulbous growths protruded from its surface.
The spout rarely let out more than a few drops nowadays.
Back in its days - back when old Mrs. Adalai was young - the pot plant was large and vibrant. The apart
Odyssey into 2012 Chapter 1The glare of the first gate blinds her momentarily; her memories flooded with a luminescence overpowering. She can't remember who she is, or why she's here.
She is oblivious to herself and the world around her; all she knows is the gate and the surrounding darkness. Hesitantly, she steps through, and is blinded again by a bright white glare.
Slowly the glare dies down as her eyes adjust. She can see clearly now; both the gate and her memory. She had traveled a long way to be here, to open this gate. She had travelled across the galaxy in the blink of an eye, she had opened a portal through time and space, and she had climbed through it. A portal in her mind, and it was such a portal that she could grant herself this omnipresence.
Her people were the Skylarks, and they knew her as a Gatekeeper; they recognised her unique abilities as mirroring those of the ancients. She was the remnant of a past long forgotten
She arrived in a city overrun by smog and giant grey buildings. "Is thi
Almost in ComatoseYou wake.
Head swimming, eyes glazed over,
Throat red and swollen.
You throw a leg,
Misjudging the distance,
Between bed and floor.
Heavily onto the tatty carpet,
Unfocused eyes misguiding you.
Your body folds upwards,
Hands and feet together,
Ass in the air.
You can't get a grip,
You fall again.
This time you stay there,
You poor, poor baby.
Twisted thoughts in mind.
With your father's hatchets,
A bloody trail you leave behind.
You are Slender's proxy,
For certain that's no joke.
And the voices in your head say,
To kill all random folk.
Your father may he rot in hell,
For leaving your sister to die,
Who whenever that you think of,
makes you want to cry.
But as you wrestle with your sanity
With your bloody, bandaged hands,
The law will search for you
Through all the wooded lands.
As well as through the cities
And hills and valleys too.
But you know that they
Will never get a hold of you.
For you're one of Slender's proxies
You can go from there to here,
In the blink of an eye
To cause them mortal fear…
HateYou don't know me, but I do know you.
You're the waste that sent me askew.
I've never met you, and be glad for it.
If I had the chance, murder I'd commit.
I can't call you out. Not here; not now.
Eyes were meant to watch and knees to bow.
Oh you want to escape? Well I have some news
You're not getting out of here alive, blood is my muse.
I chain you to the table and tape your mouth shut.
I grab my blade and prove you're out of luck.
A cut, slice, and stab to the gut will work.
I remember your smile, the insulting smirk
I start at the right, and then slowly dig down.
I slice towards me, opening your leather gown.
You cringe as I force my blade in farther
What's wrong? I never said you're a martyr
I hear a plea; "Please let me go!"
"Why? At this point you'll never know
Why you're here, and suffering from my blade.
I got news for you pal: God called in sick today."
Dead with Eyes Wide OpenThe blood drips
while her sanity rips.
As the rain falls
her mind slips into insanity.
You stare at her.
You look at her.
Look at you.
Is this really who you've become?
She's slipping into insanity.
Your harsh words
and dark slurs
pushes her to the end.
She's slipping into insanity.
Life is cruel
with people who treat her like a fool
laughing behind her back
pointing out all the things that she lacks.
She's slipping into insanity.
She sits in her room
and thinks about all the people who laughed and called her a loon
She grab the knife
as she thinks about her life.
She's slipping into insanity.
The blood drips
while her sanity rips.
she may be slipping into insanity.
As the darkness seeps in
The will, the mind
falls deep into insanity.
The blood drips
while your sanity rips.
She dreams dark
of a neon black universe
you can see because her cuts nark
telling you that somebody has made a fatal mark
before you realize
before you think
that fatal mark, to her remark
Shadows and NightmaresOn nights when I cannot fall to sleep
and you can almost hear a child weep
you wonder if on this night
your soul is yours to keep
I awoke to the deep deep sound
of creaking feet upon the ground
and I feared the worse as I imagined
my very own burial mound
As I stepped on my floor
and slowly opened up my door
I saw a startling image that to this day
still haunts me to my core
what stood before me was a creature
with such demonic gruesome feature
that this demon, this horrid thing
hadn't arms like reachers
as cold shivered up my spine
and black darkness filled up my mind
And sadly there was no way out
at least that I could find
it crooked it's head and looked at me
with a grin of evil vile glee
and it opened up it's mouth
as it said a few words to me
"Ah you feel the chilling night
that fills you to the brim with fright
and all those horrid things like me
are in the plainest sight
I do love the 3 o'clock air
that burns your ears and whips your hair
for the night in which you die, my frie
NightmareAs nightmare stalked my bedroom narrow
I felt him in my blood and marrow
Whispering to me terrors
Terrors I had felt before
And while I lay in bleak distrust
To sleep the sleep of the unjust
I thought I heard a noise of crawling
Crawling, did my thoughts outpour.
"It is nothing," I had muttered,
"Nothing do my thoughts implore."
Thought only this and nothing more.
Yet as I laid in vain volition
My thoughts had come to their fruition
And all the horrors of the night
Had gathered at my chamber door.
And so I yelled, I prayed and tattled
I ranted, I recited, prattled
On and on about how this was
None I hadn't seen before.
"You are nightmares," I proclaimed,
"Just figures of forgotten lore.
Only this and nothing more."
Yet, all my energy expended,
My sanity remained suspended
Ended all the horrors that had
Wormed into my thoughts before.
So while I waited, watched and listened
The ice and snow about me glistened
Glistened like the eyes of one who's
Seen the terrors all before.
"Just my san
AfterlifeThere was nothing.
"Where is the tunnel?"
She asked herself.
Whatever this was, the silence was crushing.
"Where are the people? The hustle?"
It was a void in itself.
"Why am I here? What have I done?"
Am I dead,or am I still alive?
If so, is there an after world?
As the silent questions on her mind spun,
She awaited Satan, or perhaps an unlikely Jesus to arrive
Her heavy conscious turned and whirled
She recalled why she'd arrived at such place,
Now recalling her unspoken good-bye she'd left behind
as she hung herself from the rafters
How her misery had worn down her face
Looking down, the same guilty scars would always remind
Her of the depression that finished her book's final chapters
What would her mother find when she searched the room?
Would she care? "No."
The firmness of the word echoed through whatever dimension she abode
How would they find her, would they have a clue?
Would they know?
They'd have to. Now, she felt more than ever alone.
Would tear be shed? Doubtful, in this c
Weakthe days are growing shorter now,
my bones begin to creak.
to toil the days away indowed,
with the sorrows of the weak.
if only i had chose another path,
i may have found what i do seek.
but now i stare into oblivion,
only to admit defeat.
is it due to my own appearence
one that is very bleak.
maybe it's my mind
who never get's to sleep.
could it be this drive within
to make me feel complete.
i try to fight this despair, but only do i seep
to find a footing in this life but only to find i am in to deep
Mi trabajo mas macabro, voten por mas.Capitulo 1: Despertando en una pesadilla.
El joven abrió lentamente los ojos, tras un sueño largo, se sentó en el suelo de desgastadas tablillas llenas de polvo, la cabeza le estallaba, como si le hubieran dado un buen golpe para dejarlo inconciente sin embargo no podía asegurarlo, no recordaba absolutamente nada, ni siquiera donde se hallaba o como había llegado allí, no recordaba ni su nombre, se levantó, y un tintineo metálico atrajo su atención, al cuello, llevaba una placa militar, que llevaba su nombre y un código de identificación, el joven tomo la placa y la leyó en voz alta:
-Desmond 48195570, primera brigada de operaciones especiales…
¿Que rayos quería decir eso? Eso era lo de menos, primero tendría que averiguar donde esta
Otro cuento de licantroposaqui la historia de otro garou (licatropo) creada por mi para un amigo :3 ojala les guste.
Este joven Dj, que tiene una larga carrera como seductor, guarda un secreto, Un secreto por el que perdió a su familia, de día, Axel es un Dj bastante conocido en la ciudad, pero de noche, este muchacho sale a correr por los bosques en la forma de un lobo, los problemas de Axel comenzaron a los 19 años, antes de eso, había sido como cualquier otro chico de su calle, sus padres le adoraba, sus amigos le querían, incluso muchas chicas le perseguían, pero a la larga, la herencia que llevaba en la sangre fue mas fuerte, y el don de Gaia se manifestó en el, fue durante la primera luna llena de Agosto, cuando el muchacho tenia 19 años, se encontraba en el bosque, algo le había llevado a aquel apartado lugar esa noche, escuchaba una voz femenina en su cabeza que lo guiaba, en un claro lleno de hierba verde, rodeado
Inquisitive Marauders I skim across the hardwood floor,
Nightingales whistle noisily as I pass,
Cringing to their shrieking cry,
Like the sound of falling glass.
The floor does creak its woes at me,
Alerting the elements of my place,
Walls shake and thunder rolls,
Fright etched onto my horror-face.
I pause; my heart to skip a beat,
Voices! Oh, where to hide?
Yet as I listened to their fearful drone,
They groaned and moaned and sighed.
I pant a prolonged fearing prayer,
And duck behind a door,
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More