Post by Felix Falora on Jul 19, 2009 19:39:45 GMT -5
(Why do I always do this to my characters? Anyways... song for this situation, courtesy of the Newgrounds Audio Portal...)
www.newgrounds.com/audio/listen/39888
The storm outside boomed in the room, echoing throughout the apartment. The residents had left to take care of some business, leaving him to sleep in the room by himself. He tossed and turned in the bed he slept in nowadays, Fletcher's bed, allowed by the British boy himself. But it was not the storm that had him so upset. The storm was outside and would soon pass. It was what it was enhancing in his mind, however, that had him on edge.
Darkness covered the apartment complex as he entered. Stepping into the room, he saw the walls. They were painted with blood... a message... "Heathens and demons here were slaughtered. In the name of our Lord, amen, we pray these demons burn in Hell from whence they came. Amen."
Death overtook the air, a powerful stench that nearly made King puke upon contact. He walked through the hallway towards his new home, seeing the blood take on new, erratic patterns. Pentagrams, handprints... messages of regret, anger... anything of that nature. He felt his foot collide against something, kicking it, and looked down.
He saw Nazz's head there. A friend of his new friends, she looked terrified and hurt. King felt the nausea rise up in his stomach, but forced it back down and continued to the next door a ways down... his room. Forcing his fear to the side, he opened it up.
As he expected, the room was trashed. Luxeries were smashed in, furniture broken, couches torn, clothing ripped... Trevor was on the couch, an eyeball laying in his hand, the other arm severed from the body. King wanted to scream badly now. He went to move towards his room, but he felt his foot collide against another object. He looked down and saw Michiko's body. She had her eyes cut open and worms crawling inside her mouth and down her throat. The nausea began to return as he continued inside to his room.
Perceval and Matilde lay there, each cleaved in half. Perceval looked despair-ridden and Matilde looked shocked. Their intestines and organs lay in a pile by them and he could no longer hold in the nausea. With a loud retching sound, King puked there, covering the floor with vomit. He looked up after puking and noticed a body on the floor by the bed, the head turned away from everyone. Able to see nothing but his hair, the hair he recognized belonged to Fletcher, he walked up to the boy and spoke softly. "Fletcher... what..."
As he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, though, the head rolled off and fell to the ground. King went back and the head rolled up to show that... every inch of Fletcher's face was cut off, the flesh stripped away, and nothing but his skill remained with centipedes and other manners of insects running through the eyesockets. Unable to hold it in, King began to scream, falling against the bed, ducking under the covers, hoping that he could dissapear or that it would all go away if he stayed under for a while.
Luckily this was all a dream, including the puking, but in reality, King was flailing around like his life depended on it and screaming as such to boot.
www.newgrounds.com/audio/listen/39888
The storm outside boomed in the room, echoing throughout the apartment. The residents had left to take care of some business, leaving him to sleep in the room by himself. He tossed and turned in the bed he slept in nowadays, Fletcher's bed, allowed by the British boy himself. But it was not the storm that had him so upset. The storm was outside and would soon pass. It was what it was enhancing in his mind, however, that had him on edge.
Darkness covered the apartment complex as he entered. Stepping into the room, he saw the walls. They were painted with blood... a message... "Heathens and demons here were slaughtered. In the name of our Lord, amen, we pray these demons burn in Hell from whence they came. Amen."
Death overtook the air, a powerful stench that nearly made King puke upon contact. He walked through the hallway towards his new home, seeing the blood take on new, erratic patterns. Pentagrams, handprints... messages of regret, anger... anything of that nature. He felt his foot collide against something, kicking it, and looked down.
He saw Nazz's head there. A friend of his new friends, she looked terrified and hurt. King felt the nausea rise up in his stomach, but forced it back down and continued to the next door a ways down... his room. Forcing his fear to the side, he opened it up.
As he expected, the room was trashed. Luxeries were smashed in, furniture broken, couches torn, clothing ripped... Trevor was on the couch, an eyeball laying in his hand, the other arm severed from the body. King wanted to scream badly now. He went to move towards his room, but he felt his foot collide against another object. He looked down and saw Michiko's body. She had her eyes cut open and worms crawling inside her mouth and down her throat. The nausea began to return as he continued inside to his room.
Perceval and Matilde lay there, each cleaved in half. Perceval looked despair-ridden and Matilde looked shocked. Their intestines and organs lay in a pile by them and he could no longer hold in the nausea. With a loud retching sound, King puked there, covering the floor with vomit. He looked up after puking and noticed a body on the floor by the bed, the head turned away from everyone. Able to see nothing but his hair, the hair he recognized belonged to Fletcher, he walked up to the boy and spoke softly. "Fletcher... what..."
As he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, though, the head rolled off and fell to the ground. King went back and the head rolled up to show that... every inch of Fletcher's face was cut off, the flesh stripped away, and nothing but his skill remained with centipedes and other manners of insects running through the eyesockets. Unable to hold it in, King began to scream, falling against the bed, ducking under the covers, hoping that he could dissapear or that it would all go away if he stayed under for a while.
Luckily this was all a dream, including the puking, but in reality, King was flailing around like his life depended on it and screaming as such to boot.
