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| 17 May 2015 03:01 PM |
A short story by me. I was thinking about last words a serial killer might say just before getting electrocuted after I'd seen an article about some of the stuff some had said ... and it ended up being this.
The serial killer walked with a slight bounce in his step as he approached what would surely be his death. Guards surrounded him on every side, each of them heavily armed. The killer made no attempts to break free or even rebel in the slightest.
When they forced him to sit down, which he did willingly, the maniac declared, "You know, there are many, much worse ways to die than the electric chair- I could have been killed by me!" He laughed continuously at his own joke as the guards strapped him in.
A second before they planned to let the lightning loose, a portal opened, and out of it stepped a heavily clad man in futuristic armor, who, underneath that suit, looked exactly like the convict- except less bloody and insane. This was enough to distract everyone from pulling the lever, making the serial killer safe- At least from the chair.
The portal closed behind the man, who was huffing angrily, his nostrils flaring. The killer gazed upon him in casual interest, sizing him up with cautious curiosity. The guards, meanwhile, gaped with their mouths wide open, believing they were dreaming. They were so convinced they were in their dreams, they didn't notice that the serial killer's restraints had been undone by himself.
Finally, the newcomer spoke. "ENOUGH," he declared. "THIS HAS GONE ON FOR LONG ENOUGH."
"What has?" asked the serial killer with a head tilt, standing up from his death-chair and approaching what appeared to be him from the future slowly.
The doppelgänger drew more angry. "AFTER SO MANY TIME LOOPS, AFTER SO MANY ANOMALIES AND FAILURES AND MISTAKES, I'M SURPRISED YOU DON'T KNOW ALREADY."
"Do tell," the prisoner smiled expectantly.
He sighed. "Of course you don't know. You can't." The doppelgänger looked away at the ground as his hand drew to his gun by his side, fingers closing around it.
Looking back, he explained, "Every time, every time. This happens every time- You're about to be killed for your crimes, and for very good reason. Right then, the inter-dimensional time committee stops and says, 'Wait! We can use this man. He could make a fine tool for us.' And every time, they save us, and they bring us to their dimension to train ... And every time...." A tear fell from his lashes. "ALMOST every time, you just tear everything apart! We have to go back in time so that we DON'T screw up again, erasing so many mistakes, only to have them happen again!"
The doppelgänger knelt down on the ground, his face screwed up in sorrow and regret. He unknowingly took out his gun, resting it on the ground temporarily. After a moment, he raised his eyes, his hand, and his body. Standing stronger, he pointed the gun. His hand shook as his eyes made rivers across his face. He stopped himself, and he put his gun away. All the while, the killer looked at him curiously.
Finally, the killer spoke. "So who are you?" he asked in a strange, almost friendly way. "I'm Max," he smiled.
"I'm Max, too, dummax," the other quipped. "I was the only case that this stupid plan actually WORKED. They send me here like they always wanted to with all the others, to come and save you. 'After all,' they tell me, 'What better person to save yourself than you?' Well I'll tell you what. What better person to KILL yourself than you?" Max advanced Max, and, instead of drawing a gun, drew a jagged knife from his left pocket.
The serial killer gazed upon his visitor calculatingly. "So I suppose you'll want to kill me now, since it won't work twice? How are you so sure it won't work again?"
"I already know. You've already told me, loud and clear," the doppelgänger accused.
The killer gave a pleasant smile. "Do tell."
"You don't remember," Max continued. "I was the only one who remembered. Even the committee didn't remember; they lost their damn memories when they went back in time. They want me to rescue you to become like ME. But you know what I think of you? I think you're HOPELESS. You're nothing but a narcissistic, maniacal, manipulative LIAR, and I WON'T let you mess everything up again! I'll kill YOU, and I'll kill ME, and I'll kill the WHOLE DAMN COMMITTEE AND WHOEVER STANDS IN MY WAY."
"Ah, this is proof you are me!" the younger Max grinned in welcome. "You still want to kill everyone- Just like me." He gave a contented sigh before continuing on. "You know, you're technically disobeying them by killing me, right? And probably lots of inter-dimensional laws?"
The angry Max flared his nostrils, tightening his grip on his knife. "I'M ASHAMED I WAS EVER REMOTELY LIKE YOU!" he shouted. "I HATE YOU. I HATE MY PAST SELF. AND I DESPISE THAT DAMN COMMITTEE WHO THINKS THEY CAN BOSS AROUND A-"
"A serial killer?" the other Max finished for him. "I take it you don't care about breaking laws ... I know I never did," the serial killer concluded. "Well, kill me kindly, albeit I know you won't. After all ... I wouldn't."
The visitor screamed and charged with all of his might at his target. His jagged knife was thrust straight into his opponent's ... arm.
"You'll have to be quicker than that," Max laughed, having dodged the worst of the attack. "Come on- Don't you know your own strength?"
The angry Max cut off Max's arm and readied himself for another shot at it.
"No?" the target questioned. "Hmm ... How about your absolute cunningness?"
Max dodged as his killer tried to assassinate him again. Another arm fell off and spurted blood onto his clothes and the ground, but he just kept laughing. "How about your speed? Your agility?"
This time the killer got his ear. He was getting closer. Max and Max were both bathed in Max's blood as the laughing continued.
"YOUR DEATH!" the killer screamed, finally thrusting his jagged, rusty knife into his opponent's heart. Both Maxes fell to the ground, their eyes glazed and clouded.
The one with the knife in his heart, no longer laughing, panted, "You know ... haah ... I coulda scrapped you up a lot worse than...."
The other Max, the killer, not paying attention, mumbled, "Damn ... Shoulda known.... Killin' him kills both.... At least the ... commit.... see this and ... rethink...."
Blood poured out of both men's hearts, making a giant red puddle of irony liquid as the two Maxes passed away. The guards stared in wonder, and, one by one, they fainted. Later, the janitor, an undercover member of the Committee, came in to clean things up and wipe the witnesses' memories. He called in to his boss in a different dimension and reported that maybe they shouldn't try this gig anymore. The committee disagreed, saying that they only needed one more chance.... |
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| 17 May 2015 03:06 PM |
| Damn good story Purring. Damn good. |
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| 17 May 2015 03:28 PM |
"Gun" Bbbut in my story I gave you a desert eagle #crieverytiem |
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| 17 May 2015 03:32 PM |
"Bbbut in my story I gave you a desert eagle"
Wh-? Oh OH Oh, I wasn't even thinking about you when I named these guys.
...what's a desert eagle? |
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| 17 May 2015 03:39 PM |
I was asking rockmax, not you, silver. also this is not his story it is mine you misunderstand |
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| 17 May 2015 03:41 PM |
A desert eagle is a pistol that fires 50 cal rounds if you don't know what 50 cal is look it up |
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| 17 May 2015 08:19 PM |
| No Purring it is you who mistook what I said.. |
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| 26 Sep 2015 07:41 AM |
I'm bumping this because I'm still bored
Maybe I'll write another story soon one that doesn't suck because let's be honest I can still do better a lot better |
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| 26 Sep 2015 09:56 AM |
| Not bad, not bad... Fancy being a Lore Writer in my group? |
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| 26 Sep 2015 09:57 AM |
*facepalm*
INSPIR-E, the one under my name. |
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| 26 Sep 2015 09:59 AM |
| well gee, sorry for not reading your mind |
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| 26 Sep 2015 10:26 AM |
| You don't have to read my mind... |
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| 26 Sep 2015 10:28 AM |
| what on earth do you even need lore for, anyways? looks like it's just another group for random kinds of art |
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| 26 Sep 2015 11:25 AM |
| When people actually start listening and start making games, we are going to need lore for some, if not all games. |
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| 26 Mar 2016 12:22 PM |
Apparently I bumped a few things six months ago. This is convenient for me and inconvenient to people who hate necrobumps. |
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| 26 Mar 2016 12:28 PM |
rip
*Sitting Alone In A Corner* [Diary Entry #932] Well Im Here, Last Man On Earth I Used The World Scaner No One's Here, No one to Talk To, No One To Go Outside With Me I Think This Is It For Me, Goodbye World. |
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benzo2
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| Joined: 02 Jun 2008 |
| Total Posts: 18020 |
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| 26 Mar 2016 12:30 PM |
| I only hate necrobumps for my threads. I'm perfect and always was! Sure as hell don't need folks pulling up evidence to dispute that. |
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| 26 Mar 2016 12:35 PM |
| Doesn't the Desert Eagle suck? Also, it uses .50 AE, among other rounds. Suprised you made that mistake, rock. |
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