Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2002 20:24 GMT
By: Funis Mors
Topic: Murder
Drip drip. A puddle forms at the base of my feet. My hands are covered; my hands are stained. I feel so scared; I feel so much pain. I don't know where to run. I can still feel his brath down on my neck. I can still remember the knife, the bright reflecting knife. The knife shined in the moonligt, reflecting his twisted face, driving fear into my heart. He races towards me. I was too afraid to move. My blood turning ice cold; my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. He finally reached me, raising the knife higher and higher until he rammed it into my chest; just missing my heart, but still puncturing my lung. I tried to screm, but the blood had already started to fill my lung. The pain of the knife in my chest grew with each breath. I thought I was dead, the pain was so great; I could feel the warmth of the blood in my lung. He tried to pull the knife out but it was stuck. He pulled and pulled the knife, driving more pain through my body. I could feel the knife moving in my chest with each pull. He then forced me to the ground, screaming in my ear, "what a slut you are what a slut you are" He then pulled the knife free, and stabbed me again and again and again. I fought for the knife, barely managing to get it from his hands. With a lucky jab I drove it right into his eye socket. The tip of the blade burst out the back of his skull. He feel to the ground dead with the bloody knife in his head. I reach up to touch the knife wound in my chest. I pull my hands away to reveal the blood. I look down to my feet, seeing the blood drip and drip to the ground forming a puddle of blood. I look at my hands. They're covered; they're stained. I fall to the ground choking on my own blood. I soon fall asleep, my blood still warm. I stretch my arms out and lay on my back and wait for the end to come to me.
Date: Wed, 17 Apr 2002 3:45 GMT
By: Sclavus Gothicus
Topic: Friedrich [Of the Fallen Four Saga]
Silence. I can't hear anything. I open my eyes slightly; enough to see without anyone seeing my eyes open. Nothing. Complete and utter darkness and silence. Is this what it's like to be deaf and blind? No, I can hear something. I try to sit up, and am able to do so with only a minute head rush. Darkness is still absolute, but it has somehow lessened.
I stand up with no problem and leap up into the infinite darkness. Of a sudden, I can see things. Maybe that infinite darkness isn't so infinite after all. I look around, trying to get my bearings. Row upon row of graves. This explains much. We've been transplanted again. I wonder what name I'm under this time. Fred Netz. How . . . disgraceful.
Now why has that fool "caretaker" woken us for this time? I guess it's time to find out. I follow the beads of pure energy until I am at his door. I walk through, unsurprised to see him in meditation on the floor. His eyes snap open. I am suprised, however, to see that I was the only one called.
"Where are the others?" I demand. "Josef, Adolf, Benito, Karl, Albert.... You didn't transplant any of them did you?!?"
A strange look flickers across his face and his eyes change colour momentarily. "Oh We transplanted them," he says. They just didn't want to stay in the ground. Someone did a summoning, and they got loose. We were able to absorb Albert and Karl, but someone else or several someones have the Axis wills."
"You fool! How could you let this happen!?!? Do you --"
"SILENCE!! Or would you prefer to go back to your days of delirium? We have this under control. They will come to Us given time. Adolf first. We know of his fascination with the dead..."
"What if he doesn't come?"
"He will."
"How can you be so sure?"
"We know him well. We also think he's been in contact with Josef."
"What makes you think that?"
"There are signs that We have noticed."
"The link is weaking. Send me back to my slumber or give me a body."
"We have prepared one for you, but it is a fair distance away. Follow the beadao and you shall find it."
"Then by your leave..."
"Granted."
The beadao shows itself but it is strained. The distance must be far and the dawn near. I have no choice. I travel down te trail, feeling the rotation of Sphere through my body. I approach what I am to inhabit. A shapeless form. Such is the nature of the way we possess. We know only that we may inhabit until we possess. Then we see the form.
I examine the signs in the form. Strong. Fast. Powerful. Large. Dumb. Allowed to transpossess to a new body; but only at night while under his supervision. There's no turning back; I either possess or I fade into oblivion. I possess.
I get my bearings in my new body. That bastard! I'm in a horse! He must be laughing about his supposed comic irony. The bastard!
Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2002 2:59 GMT
By: Funis Mors
Topic: Drip, Drip
Drip, Drip.
Drip, Drip.
Drip, Drip. Holding my hand high.
Drip, Drip. I pull it down.
Kissing the knife.
Lifting my knife high.
Running the situation through my mind.
I push the knife with great force.
Feeling the air leaving my lungs.
A warm feeing enters my lungs.
Pulling the kinfe free,
I fall to my knees,
With a smile on my face,
I cough and hack
At the rising level of blood in my lungs.
Tired.
Sleep.
Death.
Post Script: It took about a month, but I finally got Funis Mors off his lazy ass and got him to write some stuff. He has given me three or four more items, and combined with material I've been holding off, we have enough stuff to have posts every day for a full week without any work on our parts. Until then.
- Gothicus Sclavus
Date: Tue, 9 Apr 2002 2:24 GMT
By: Sclavus Gothicus
Topic: Excuses, excuses...
I know that you've all been asking the same questions to yourselves. "Why am I here? Why don't I kill myself?" Well, I can't help you with any of those questions, but if you've been wondering why there's been no new content here, well then I can answer that question. Two members of the staff are quite quite sick and cant do more than go "ugh" [Me & Bitch], one is hospitalized [Cyq], and the last [Funis Mors] is just a lazy motherfucker whom, if he doesnt wirte anything soon may be hospitalized. No threat real or implied there. None at all. Really. So those are our excuses and we're sticking to them.
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