|
| 16 May 2013 05:46 PM |
He looked at his calendar. The year was 1933. The month was December. As a New Orleans man he never knew what snow felt like. His family had brought him to Florida after leaving the eastern half of Jamaica. His parents had killed over thirty people in the name of some evil beast who's existence he doubted. Yet he was still here, wasn't he?
He lit the final candle and set it in front of him.
"To he who watches our suffering,"
He placed his index finger over the candle.
"I offer you with...."
He sliced the end of the finger with a knife.
"My own blood."
He stood up and dropped the knife. "I am he who calls you. Come forth." Nothing. He stood there waiting, and still, nothing.
He was about to put the candles out when he heard a guttural growl.
"Why do you call me?" The thing in the dark barked out. The man was about to turn around and answer, but the creature barked again. "Do not look. You can not yet comprehend what you will see."
The man nodded his head and whispered. "My parents worked for you. I know they left you. But I wouldn't. They left me too, you see. After they brought me here." He wiped a tear from his cheek.
"I know how it feels to be abandoned." Suddenly the man felt something grip the flesh of his shoulder. He felt his bones shake and jolt. The creature didn't growl, it's voice was calm and beautiful. "I know. You can see things now. Turn around." The hand was off his shoulder and he turned around.
The creature wasn't a monster but a thing of pure beauty. It held out its hand and the man grabbed it with his own. The creature spoke again. "I will protect you. I will empower you. I will let you keep the life you take. But on one condition." The man questioningly asked what that might he.
"To make them know what I am," the thing said. "To make them remember." The man nodded and closed his eyes. When he opened them the thing was gone and in his hand was a briefcase.
He knew what he had to do. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 16 May 2013 05:49 PM |
And, then my hunter comes, and ganks him, with the help of an Archangel.
BUT, SERIOUSLY GREAT STUFF,
HOW ARE YOU WRITING IT SO FAST THOUGH? |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 16 May 2013 05:54 PM |
I don't know.
The weird thing is I'm typing it on a kindle fire. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 16 May 2013 06:05 PM |
No wait I remember you writing something. Where he went into the basement and it reminded me of Zork
Yes I remember now. But this is good. Will we see more? |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 16 May 2013 06:06 PM |
But anyway
Here's a description of the guy
Not too fat or skinny
Black jeans
Black boots
Zipped up leather jacket, the back of it has an emblem of a red scorpion.
Black skin, black curly hair.
About mid 40s.
Lots of black, as you can see. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|