Post by Liamane on Apr 25, 2008 16:54:16 GMT -6
A story that's going to be written by BB and me. Judging by our dynamic abilities, this should be really good. ^_____^
Flynn Rousseau had always possessed an unquenchable thirst for thrill, but he had never imagined that it would lead to his untimely end. Upon that fateful day, police scanners rang out as the station sent a bulletin of the sudden murder of Officer James Brewer at the hands of a man with sharp blue eyes. The description was vague, but as civilians spotted a male with sleeves drenched of fresh gore, the authorities turned their immediate attention to the newfound catch.
The culprit had fled into an impressively large apartment edifice that towered over many of the smaller buildings of Amica City. The man took to the immense flight of stairs that ascended toward the roof of the building where he had hoped to make a daring escape. It was a gamble that Flynn had to take.
Brewer’s blood dripped forth from Rousseau’s hands, and as he gripped the supporting handrail, the trail of ruby droplets smeared a fresh track for the police to follow. The red essence descended down the stairwell, splashing upon the floor below.
“Stop, damn it!” the head of the troop, Lieutenant Leeds, shouted, running ahead of his squadron. Despite his large girth, he managed to remain closely behind his prey.
The sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, and climbing higher into the structure, Flynn stumbled, catching himself a moment later before pressing onward. The door leading to the rooftop flung open, and the man sprinted toward the edge in which he had planned to flee to. Following suit, Leeds and his company emerged from the stairway, bolted through the exit, and before the renegade could make his grand flight, the Lieutenant opened fire, and he managed to aim accurately at the man’s body.
Gripping the new wound on his chest, Flynn writhed in pain as his teeth and face clenched tightly. Hanging his head to gaze at his injury, blood poured forth from his body and trickled to the ground from between his fingers. He shot a menacing glance to Leeds and the assembling crew of police, and gasping a sore rasp, he managed to mutter, “Damn.”
Slipping backward off of the ledge, the man’s body slowly drifted into the air as it started its descent to the ground. Defying the laws of nature, Flynn’s corpse suddenly began to crackle and erode as his flesh met with the oxygen of the air as the crowd below cried out in horror. As the assembled police marched to the ledge, to their surprise, not a trace of the culprit’s body was left behind as his remains had already disintegrated into the air. Enraged and perplexed, Leeds huffed in aggravation before taking to the tedious flight of stairs once again to investigate the ground below. Unbeknownst to everyone in attendance, Flynn was still very present.
As morning arrived, the radiant light of the sun pierced through the blinds of Kenan Harwell's dormitory room, and a single ray of warmth was cast upon his face. No longer was the student able to hide behind the pleasant mask of slumber, and slowly, he opened his eye lids.
Gaining his crystalline vision, the green-eyed teenager's gaze adjusted to his familiar surroundings, and a wave of horror suddenly struck him. His blood drenched hand extended to the ceiling, and the teenager swallowed a forthcoming sob in his throat as he heaved a terrified breath.
Covering his face with his forearm, he buried his eyes into his flesh, and his fists clenched as anger and dread took his being. "It's happened again," he murmured, a feeling of unease gnawed at his stomach. The feeling of scarlet essence between his fingers sickened him to the core. Groaning in remorse, he couldn't help but moan in anguish as he cursed in a whisper, "Damn."
The sight of blood smeared upon his walls was no alien to Kenan, but the thought of his very actions- no, not his own actions- had disturbed him since childhood. The scent of fresh blood was always present in his nostrils, but the memories of committing the devious deeds were merely a haze by the next morning.
Shooting a glance toward the wall beside his bed, the teenager's body became ill at the scene. He sighed and bit his lip as he continued to harbor his ten year old secret in which plagued him night and day. Tightening his jaw, he fought the urge to smirk as the demon within tormented his thoughts of devious intentions that began to emerge toward the surface.
Oblivion Child
Written by B.B. Valentine and Liamane
Prologue: Life and Death
Written by B.B. Valentine and Liamane
Prologue: Life and Death
Flynn Rousseau had always possessed an unquenchable thirst for thrill, but he had never imagined that it would lead to his untimely end. Upon that fateful day, police scanners rang out as the station sent a bulletin of the sudden murder of Officer James Brewer at the hands of a man with sharp blue eyes. The description was vague, but as civilians spotted a male with sleeves drenched of fresh gore, the authorities turned their immediate attention to the newfound catch.
The culprit had fled into an impressively large apartment edifice that towered over many of the smaller buildings of Amica City. The man took to the immense flight of stairs that ascended toward the roof of the building where he had hoped to make a daring escape. It was a gamble that Flynn had to take.
Brewer’s blood dripped forth from Rousseau’s hands, and as he gripped the supporting handrail, the trail of ruby droplets smeared a fresh track for the police to follow. The red essence descended down the stairwell, splashing upon the floor below.
“Stop, damn it!” the head of the troop, Lieutenant Leeds, shouted, running ahead of his squadron. Despite his large girth, he managed to remain closely behind his prey.
The sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, and climbing higher into the structure, Flynn stumbled, catching himself a moment later before pressing onward. The door leading to the rooftop flung open, and the man sprinted toward the edge in which he had planned to flee to. Following suit, Leeds and his company emerged from the stairway, bolted through the exit, and before the renegade could make his grand flight, the Lieutenant opened fire, and he managed to aim accurately at the man’s body.
Gripping the new wound on his chest, Flynn writhed in pain as his teeth and face clenched tightly. Hanging his head to gaze at his injury, blood poured forth from his body and trickled to the ground from between his fingers. He shot a menacing glance to Leeds and the assembling crew of police, and gasping a sore rasp, he managed to mutter, “Damn.”
Slipping backward off of the ledge, the man’s body slowly drifted into the air as it started its descent to the ground. Defying the laws of nature, Flynn’s corpse suddenly began to crackle and erode as his flesh met with the oxygen of the air as the crowd below cried out in horror. As the assembled police marched to the ledge, to their surprise, not a trace of the culprit’s body was left behind as his remains had already disintegrated into the air. Enraged and perplexed, Leeds huffed in aggravation before taking to the tedious flight of stairs once again to investigate the ground below. Unbeknownst to everyone in attendance, Flynn was still very present.
That day was so long ago, and yet...it remains very apparent to me; the event that has invaded my dreams and polluted my thoughts, poisoning the core of my very being until I became something I no longer recognized.
To be afraid of myself...it was something I couldn't imagine, until now. Whatever's happened to me, this corruption, isn't going to let up. It's not going to release its lethal grip on me until it's taken full control.
To be afraid of myself...it was something I couldn't imagine, until now. Whatever's happened to me, this corruption, isn't going to let up. It's not going to release its lethal grip on me until it's taken full control.
As morning arrived, the radiant light of the sun pierced through the blinds of Kenan Harwell's dormitory room, and a single ray of warmth was cast upon his face. No longer was the student able to hide behind the pleasant mask of slumber, and slowly, he opened his eye lids.
Gaining his crystalline vision, the green-eyed teenager's gaze adjusted to his familiar surroundings, and a wave of horror suddenly struck him. His blood drenched hand extended to the ceiling, and the teenager swallowed a forthcoming sob in his throat as he heaved a terrified breath.
Covering his face with his forearm, he buried his eyes into his flesh, and his fists clenched as anger and dread took his being. "It's happened again," he murmured, a feeling of unease gnawed at his stomach. The feeling of scarlet essence between his fingers sickened him to the core. Groaning in remorse, he couldn't help but moan in anguish as he cursed in a whisper, "Damn."
The sight of blood smeared upon his walls was no alien to Kenan, but the thought of his very actions- no, not his own actions- had disturbed him since childhood. The scent of fresh blood was always present in his nostrils, but the memories of committing the devious deeds were merely a haze by the next morning.
Shooting a glance toward the wall beside his bed, the teenager's body became ill at the scene. He sighed and bit his lip as he continued to harbor his ten year old secret in which plagued him night and day. Tightening his jaw, he fought the urge to smirk as the demon within tormented his thoughts of devious intentions that began to emerge toward the surface.
