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Post by redearth on Mar 5, 2008 22:43:20 GMT -6
I just wanted to make this thread in support of any budding authors/poets we might have on this board.. I also thought that people who love reading like I do might enjoy seeing works from their peers.. Feel free to post your work here.. Yall do have to follow some rules though.. Rule #1 - Please do not post pieces that might be consider overly offensive.. i.e. keep things PG-13 and if possible PG... Rule #2 - Please do not post overly long pieces that might take up too much space.. excerpts are good; and short stories and poems better... Rule #3 - If you are reading any piece and hate it/loathe it/feel it's totally disgusting/etc.. please try not to be rude about it.. constructive criticism is appreciated but the writers have feelings too... also, even when providing the criticism ask them if they want it first... Rule #4 - Please do not pass any of the work provided as your own i.e. for your own personal gain.. I trust yall not to do this.. as we seem to be a pretty good board overall.. Other than that enjoy!! I hope to see people come forward..
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 6, 2008 2:47:23 GMT -6
Personal gain? Whaa? Cool thread
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Post by Erniewan on Mar 6, 2008 2:59:22 GMT -6
Lol, I already sold your poem on Ebay, redearth. Anyways, I haven't really written anything, though I was one of the co-writers of a game me and my friends were making. We didn't get past the general plot to the actual dialogue though. I wish I could write a book though.
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 6, 2008 3:03:19 GMT -6
Hahah, yeah, my friend and I are making a book by writing a sentence each in alternating order. It's pretty fun... though we haven't written anything since Jan or something....
Ah, I get what Rule 4 means now....
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Post by redearth on Mar 9, 2008 19:45:28 GMT -6
Okay I'll do it first I guess.. This work needs work.. but.. ok here goes..
Daphne
He was gaining up on me like a bee following some yellow colored T-shirt thinking it was nectar. I turned onto another dark alley. This one has the stench of burnt barbecue sauce mixed with the stronger scent of overflowing sewers. I turned onto a new corner.
I could now hear the soft echo of the TV in the apartments overhead – of Tom Bergeron announcing the foxtrot between some semi-famous star and an ex-trice-Olympic-winning ballroom dancer. Then I heard his steps thumping on the grimy floor full of torn newspapers and cigarette butts. Dhund. Dhund.
Dhund. Dhund. Closing in faster like the hungry Jaws of a paper shredder. Dhund. Dhund. It was like hearing the rhythmic march of North Korean soldiers in a colorful kid-filled parade on TV. The huffs of his breath mixed with mine while I ran faster towards the light.
I prayed I wouldn’t suffer the same fate as the dim -witted bugs that repeatedly fly towards the porch light. The hems of my jeans were now mucky with wet soil and dog piss but I still ran as if I would reach some satin ribbon and win an olive wreath.
I didn’t. I fell.
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 11, 2008 5:26:36 GMT -6
How enjoyable I like the way you alluded to the Dancing with the Stars program or whatever it was I presume the narrator was killed/caught/raped whatever?
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owlknight
Green Belt
[M:3250]
They may look safe, but when your alone they will eat you.
Posts: 515
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Post by owlknight on Mar 11, 2008 21:26:27 GMT -6
yep
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 13, 2008 12:04:51 GMT -6
Ahhh... depressing...
Facets of a Human Mind[/u]
“So how are you feeling, Mr. Mo?” the therapist asked, pen poised on the notepad. “Depressed,” the man opposite him moaned. He rubbed his bald head, fingers lingering on the bump he received when he slipped on tiled floor three days ago. “And Mrs. Cheerie?” the therapist questioned. Mr. Mo’s face suddenly contorted into a beaming smile, eyes twinkling. His posture straightened; his legs gracefully crossed. “I’m fine, Mr. Pea. How are your wife and children?” The therapist coughed in reply. “I’m here to discuss you, Mrs. Cheerie. You are –” “Rather cheerful today, I should say,” the bald man giggled girlishly. “Oh goodness, I have just made a rhyming couplet! Silly me. And I thought I was terrible in English class.” He collapsed in a fit of giggles. The therapist nodded absent-mindedly, stood and walked over to the plexi-glass window, where the head of the mental facility was watching. Mr. Pea sighed. “He clearly has multiple-personality disorder. When you ask for a personality, it surfaces, just like that.” Mr. Pea fiddled with his pen. “We should make sure he doesn’t harm himself. Different personalities are bound to conflict, and if Mr. Bolton’s personalities do, his body will be the one to take the blow.” He glanced over his shoulder; Mr. Bolton, with the personality of Mrs. Cheerie, waved enthusiastically at him. “I’ll see what I can do, Terry,” the head of the facility frowned. “More and more lunatics arrive every week; the polluted air must be messing up their mind.” Shaking his head sadly, he turned and walked away to check up on the other patients. Terry Pea, short for Peasley, turned and slowly walked back to the delighted Mr. Bolton.
***
The mind is a wondrous thing. It’s even more exciting when different personalities come into play. However, it becomes slightly less exciting when one of the personalities is a homicidal maniac. Mr. Bolton thought he had locked his murderous personality in a mental jail in his mind, but he was sorely mistaken. The killer was out. He wanted Bolton’s body. And he was going to eliminate his other personalities to get it.
***
“Mrs. Cheerie, would you fetch Mr. Bolton for me?” Terry asked innocently. The man smiled in reply, gushing, “Oh, of course, Mr. Pea! Please wait a moment.” He turned, as if looking for someone. When he turned back to face the therapist, his smile was gone. No longer did his face shine brightly with cheeriness; his face was now a grim mask. “How long was I out?” grunted Mr. Bolton. “The whole morning. But how do you feel?” “I can’t stand it any longer, you know?” Mr. Bolton groaned. “It really sucks when I wake up with no recollection of what had happened while my other personalities were in control. Sucks. It really sucks.” “Calm down, Greg,” the therapist replied soothingly. “I understand.” “Do you, Terry?” Greg Bolton sneered. “Do you really? I woke up with a knife in my pocket, for heaven’s sake! Would you mind explaining exactly what my other personalities did while I was out?” “A knife?” Terry asked, looking at him strangely. “Maybe you should hand it over to me. Just in case, you know.”
***
It felt good to be alive. It felt good to have the ability to end one’s life quicker than a snap of the fingers. That was the only reason why he chose to live. The hooded man strode down the alley, humming a dark tune, melancholy and grievous. He loped, swinging his arms, his torso not quite keeping up with his legs. You could say he was tree-like; his arms were branches, lean and shaped; his hair was messy and wild, his legs, small trunks. The tree-man continued striding, changing his tune to an evil-sounding march. Turning the corner, he spotted the person he was looking for. The personality, to be more precise. “Mr. E. Mo,” he called sinisterly. The man, crouching in a corner with his back to the hooded man, slowly turned. It was looking in a mirror for both of them. “Sirius Giller,” he replied bravely, with only a tinge of sadness. “I thought Gregory locked you away.” Sirius laughed. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he chuckled. His face suddenly twisted into a sadistic smile. Almost as if on cue, E. Mo’s brave face collapsed into a whimpering, fearful mask. “Don’t hurt me,” he pleaded. Sirius slowly walked up to him. “Mo, you know I can’t do that.” The frightened man nodded and steeled himself. “I know.” He lifted his chin proudly, fighting back tears. “Make it quick. Life ain’t worth living anyways.” Sirius nodded gravely. “A wise choice.” Then, as fast as a snake striking, Sirius grabbed Mo’s head and twisted it viciously. Mo gave a slight whimper, and then he was gone. Vanished into thin air. Sirius laughed cruelly. Oh, the snapping sound of Mo’s neck breaking! Pure music to his ears. And wasn’t he lucky that emotions lived close together in the mind? Mrs. Cheerie was staying only a hundred metres away, on the sixth floor of the apartment building. Time to make a visit. Within fifteen minutes, he was at her door. Ding dong. Ding dong. What was taking the woman so long? Sirius violently punched the doorbell button once more. Ding do- The door flung open. Mrs. Cheerie appeared at the door, flustered and red-faced. She looked comically like Mr. Bolton, E. Mo and even Sirius, albeit with a blonde wig. “So sorry, I was busy baking muffins-” she gabbled, cut short by a hand wrapping around her pudgy throat. “Muffins? For me? You shouldn’t have,” mocked Sirius, almost chiding her. With his hand still strangling her, he looked around the apartment. It was a vibrant and happy place. Sirius instantly despised it. He spotted flowers on the window-sill. “Flowers?” he gazed thoughtfully at the struggling woman, whose lungs were almost bursting. “Your blood would make a nice flower pattern, splattered on the road-side.” Mrs. Cheerie’s face was red, teary with fake hair sticking to her sweaty face. “Toodles.” And with that, he flung her out of the window. She made nos sound; she had no breath to scream. As she hit the ground with a sickening splat, Sirius chuckled maliciously. “Aw, no blood,” Sirius smirked. Mrs. Cheerie’s body suddenly disappeared. “Next.”
***
“Give me the knife,” repeated Terry. Greg complied. He reached into his pocket, took out his knife – and started jerking about in his chair. He whimpered and cried out at unseen terrors. All at once, he stopped moving. “Oh my God! Security!” screamed Terry, horrified. Sirius’ eyes opened. Yes. He was in control now, and he always will be. “I win,” he grinned, as he leapt up and slashed Terry’s throat with the knife in his fist. As Terry lay bleeding to death, Sirius leaned over him. “Buh bye.”
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Post by redearth on Mar 16, 2008 14:35:30 GMT -6
Awesome!!
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 17, 2008 12:12:57 GMT -6
Thanks....
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owlknight
Green Belt
[M:3250]
They may look safe, but when your alone they will eat you.
Posts: 515
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Post by owlknight on Mar 19, 2008 15:56:22 GMT -6
hahaaha.....i was laughing so much...i like mrs cheerie...thnx for brightening my day
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 20, 2008 1:27:30 GMT -6
haha, thanks... I like writing evil villains! It's so funny.
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Post by Hellfire on Mar 20, 2008 9:04:38 GMT -6
I didn't really read it, but saw the words blood and knife. Now I know why owlknight likes it!!!
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owlknight
Green Belt
[M:3250]
They may look safe, but when your alone they will eat you.
Posts: 515
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Post by owlknight on Mar 20, 2008 17:15:41 GMT -6
yep...the Sirius guy is awesome
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Post by Jerzkong on Mar 21, 2008 3:26:23 GMT -6
This was for IGCSE coursework. I have IGCSE next school year, but I dunno, this is preparation or something. My friend got freaked out by Sirius. It was funny.
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E.V.T
Blue Belt
[M:5350]
I'm not dead, just hibernating[ss:edisnoom ...oom ...m]
Posts: 764
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Post by E.V.T on Apr 16, 2008 22:04:26 GMT -6
countdown 7 Days until event As the temperature in the city rose uncomfortably high, steam sweltered from the sewers like a train blasting out its dark carbon smoke. No relief was felt when the sun was high, and those that can feel the difference when the power was out and the moon casting little light upon the streets of the Big Apple, were either lucky or delusional. As the people laid out upon their sheets or across the roof tops, noticing the milky orange sky dance amongst the steam, Unable to sleep because of the heat or brightness of the sky, nine tiny stars peer through the haze and shine brighter than that of the moon or the sky. For the first time in a long while, the city stood ever still. The citizens of New York City watched in amazement while those in Oklahoma City never noticed it as similar nine lights blended in with the serene landscape of night-life and ether. Nine more lights formed a halo atop Mount Saint Helens in Washington state, another nine pointed out landmarks in Washington DC. Similar lights appeared across the globe, in daylight, at night, all appearing to be simple stars that tried to belong. To those that noticed, their thoughts on life changed, and those who failed to realize they were being watched would soon see the comfort they knew peel away as the days go by...
6 Days until event Across the world people noticed, today the lights grew bigger. Unclear as to the origins of the lights, the people began to speculate. Extraterrestrials, meteors, or secret government technologies were the more common guesses that plagued the people. They think the end is near, that God has unleashed his minions to pursue sinners and save the saints, that cosmic intervention has decided the fate of those that walk the earth with a dark and fire filled end, or that it's time to meet those that inhabit the other side of our universal neighborhood. They watch and wait, for their leaders, their governments, and/or their beliefs to give guidance, to hold true, or for a sign to show them that everything is all right, that human life will find a way when it's over. Many lose their faith, and succumb to the fear of the unknown. Many lose their touch with reality, and the tin foil hats are passed around. Others laugh, unsure if they are willing to finish what faith has set for human nature, others try and profit from it by selling tickets or property declared safe from event. It all amounts to the wait, the reveal, and the end...
5 Days until event With the appearance of the lights, and mass suicides across the world, many nations of the world have shut down. Many travelers away from home have found themselves stranded in areas they wished they weren't in. No inbound or outbound crafts, by sea or air, not even military crafts are allowed to return. United states Congress started procedures on declaring martial law, even if the armed forces are spread thin. Fear has plagued the leaders. "My fellow Americans, it is with great despondence that I come to you, in the past two days, we have become aware of a nuisance of extraterrestrial origin. For forty plus years, we, as a government, have known about the existence of life on other worlds, but were unsure as to the nature of their being, both then and now. Many have seen the last two days as a hostile action towards domination, while others see it as a step to 'first contact' with the public. While the actions of these beings are questionable, I will not conduct a course of action that may result in adverse reactions. We will get through this, good night and god bless..." In the moderately sized town of Plano, the schools had been called off because of the deaths among students and staff alike. Few found this comforting, while others were unsure. Teens took to the streets, looking for any excuse to ignore the new arrivals by racing, using illegal substances, mating, or general mayhem. This increase in activity kept most authorities from becoming like the other thirty-five percent of the nations workers, dead or unemployed. It was Yuri Travis that received the first of the signals...
4 Days until event Murmurs of Earth by Carl Sagan was heard throughout the world as radios broadcasted the signal from the new arrivals. It was first contact, and it was something for the people. Many claimed it was a sign of peace, others thought it propaganda to lure us into a sense of false hope, but all of them were changed. It was communication, and we were the ones remaining silent. Before the day was through, many began to wonder, would they know about our dirty secrets?
3 Days until event As NASA along with the military, began it's attempts at communications, many began to express doubts as to the effectiveness of homeland security. Many were now wanting these objects to be blasted out of the sky, while others waited to have a close encounter of the fifth kind. Those of those that had once been abductees, wanted nothing to do with these invaders. They wanted life back to what it was. At 2:38 a. m. GMT in Omaha, NB. the first of the abductees began his crusade to warn us. To warn us that they knew of our hate, of our capability, and what they would do if met with hostility. Many others began to come forward and claim the same thing. As reports of communications to citizens grew, a highly influential TV evangelist sowed a seed of destruction in the tone of two words, Judgment day. No sooner had those words left his lips, Martial law was enacted, not in fear of what the visitors would do, but that of what believers would cause if these crafts land...
2 Days until event The crafts were distinct, they didn't represent the stereotypical 1950's saucers or orbs. These were a mesh of the newer triangles with what appeared to be a fleet of flying aircraft carriers. It was interesting as to how rudimentary these crafts looked compared to the triangles, but these ships were limping, they looked tired, worn out, blasted too bits, and held together with some form of space-duct tape (according to Mark G. of Mobile AL.). It was becoming quite clear that these had been in a fight of some sort, but why of all things, come here? With the way the ships looked many began to question whether or not that they had finally lost it, but as of 9:13 am GMT, it became clear that these were refugees. and first communications with them had become successful. Official communique from Feb. 26, 2011 subject: WOW signal is toast 0913 - 1330 GMT From: Johanus (withheld) US-Top Soil Project To: Titor, J
Body: Dream land 1: This is Mario (withheld) at dreamland can you hear me. (simulcasted in other languages) Unknown: (...static...) Dreamland 1: Repeat, this is Mario (withheld) at dream land, can you hear me? Unknown: W... (static) Dreamland 1: Unable to interpret, please repeat. Unknown:(...static...) una... Dreamland: Please repeat, unable to interpret. Unknown: ... are ... ble to ... ue ... t pe ... r as ... ume ... Dreamland: There is a lot of interference, please repeat. Unknown: ... om a ... tly ... on ... of yo... ... This continues for the next few hours until message is put together.
Later, at 3:27 P.M. GMT, the unknown crafts began to settle down across the world...
Day before the event Refugees, hunted and herded until they sought hope here. Any were they land became a blood soaked battle ground, of friends, loved ones, and allies that stood up to the ones that are coming. We learned the histories of those we have not met, of those who have ascended to high planes, and of those that are not that far ahead in advancement of us. Ironically enough, we have weapons more powerful enough than they themselves have, and thank god for mass production, for tomorrow this unexpected twist in fate is going light up...
We watched as aircrafts franticly dance across the sky. A ballad of explosions and the whine of jets filled the sky, all while the ufo's stayed silent. We saw the ground open up as a fury of missiles streaked towards the unknown assaulter. For days, the attack wore on, and countless lives were lost. We watched as they consumed themselves. For they were all human, spanned across the universe. One young, willing to defend those that asked, one middle aged in such of utopia, and one from dying worlds. Three forms of the same species, all with different points. Us? All we do is observation, and just because we were the same doesn't mean we will aid. We only record the history, the failures, the tribulations, and the successes of humanity across the stars...
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Post by Jerzkong on Apr 18, 2008 3:10:02 GMT -6
O.O
awesome.
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Post by Erniewan on Apr 18, 2008 3:23:59 GMT -6
I agree, very nice.
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E.V.T
Blue Belt
[M:5350]
I'm not dead, just hibernating[ss:edisnoom ...oom ...m]
Posts: 764
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Post by E.V.T on Apr 25, 2008 1:42:38 GMT -6
I know, it's growing a little big for a short story...
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Post by Jerzkong on Apr 27, 2008 12:36:11 GMT -6
Oh no, it's fine.
I got a new story....
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Post by Jerzkong on Apr 27, 2008 12:37:26 GMT -6
The Strange Circumstance which led to the Untimely Demise of Benjamin Burkfield[/u]
It was still in her hand as she slowly stalked towards me. The telltale glint of steel reflected the mischievous but wild look in her eyes. A twisted and wicked smile was fixed firmly on her face, unchanging as she strode down the corridor, one hand dragging lazily across the white-washed walls. “Oh, Benji,” she cooed, with a tone that was almost motherly. But the object in her hand suggested otherwise. No mother would do what she was about to do. I could not move, however much as I wanted to. As the dancing steel drew nearer, I finally forced the stone pillars that were my legs to move as far as possible away from the lying demoness. And away from what was in her clenched fist. Just the thought of it made me sweat profusely, causing me to shiver helplessly with the cold fear it granted. Soul-stealer. That’s what it should be called. Every single time she plunged it into me, I felt a small part of me die. I doubted I could take another stab. “Benji, come here! Have another bite. I’m sure you’ll love it.” The two-faced monster beckoned to me with her hand, her fingernails unnaturally sharp and shiny, almost claw-like. She was trying once again to manipulate me through false kindness, demanding that I play the part of a puppet on strings as she moved slowly towards me like a lion cornering its prey. A shudder ran through my body, though I tried my best to hide it. I would show no fear in front of the witch, regardless of the pain she had already caused me. But with every swoop of her hand, the metal flashing sickly as it caught the light, I felt my confidence drain away and my strength waver. “Don’t run away! Take it like a man!” the wild woman sing-songed as she walked with a spring in her step, her thunderous feet beating out the rhythm for her dark song. It was clear that she was catching up to me, being much stronger than me and my weak, staggering legs. A choking sob rose up in my throat as fear pierced my heart as deadly as an arrow-strike. I stumbled, and tripped over a loose section of carpet, the resulting pain serving only to remind me of the pain-filled night I’ve already been through, urging me to run, run far and for my life, blinding me to the obvious fact that I’ve cornered myself into a dead end, with only a long flight of stairs as my only means of escape. “N-no. Please,” I whimpered, voice pitifully weak and high-pitched. How ashamed I was then, groveling at her feet as if I was a lowly servant – nay, a peasant – at the soles of my queen. “Benji, are you ok? Just come here-” My terrified mind blanked out the rest of her cruel, mocking words, and for a moment I thought I could feel her putrid, hot breath on the back of my neck. I scrambled upwards and fearfully turned around, my back to the stairs. She was there, arms outstretched as if she wanted a hug, smiling her sickly sweet smile at me. For a second I thought she had returned to normal, the state she was at when my parents were here. But they were now gone, never to return again to my knowledge, and she had gladly shed off the good girl demeanor, instead revealing her true side as a dictator and tyrant. I was aching desperately for a hug, but when I saw that the steel object was still in her hand, I backed off sharpish, fearing for my own life. Something caught the back of my foot, and before I knew it, I was in the air. It was then that I screamed, the sound impossibly loud for my six-year old throat as I realized that the demoness had forced me back here and then strategically placed that other loose piece of fabric so that I would tumble down the stairs to my death, my body gravity’s new toy. With my scream, I hoped to curse the witch to the end of the world.
The parents rushed back as soon as they received the news, flinging open the front door to find the babysitter kneeling over their precocious son, his neck as broken as a china doll that had smashed itself onto the floor. The mother rushed over and knelt next to the boy, almost afraid to touch her deceased child, but grief and maternal love overcame the fear and disbelief and she let out an anguished cry of deep pain, throwing her arms around the boy’s neck. A heart-wrenching sob spilled out from her mouth as she heard it crack, reminding her needlessly of his fatal accident. Her hands plunged deeper into Benjamin’s sandy blonde hair as she told herself that she’ll never see those lively blue eyes again. Her angel had left the earth, leaving an empty shell, a husk, its face still contorted with horror. The father set to work on comforting both women as he quietly cried, hands gripping their shoulders as if he could somehow channel his own strength to them. The babysitter was particularly distressed, her smile twisting downwards as she wept, her shoulders shaking and red hair sticking to her face as she whispered, “It’s my fault.” Further questioning prompted her to reveal that the night had started off normally enough, one that she had considered typical and ordinary. As she recounted her tale, the light slowly faded off the spoon that the girl had dropped at the top of the stairs as she rushed down to check Benjamin’s condition, the broccoli not far from where it lay. By the time she had finished, Benjamin Burkfield’s dinner was as cold as the boy’s body.
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E.V.T
Blue Belt
[M:5350]
I'm not dead, just hibernating[ss:edisnoom ...oom ...m]
Posts: 764
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Post by E.V.T on May 3, 2008 23:16:55 GMT -6
It's altered, can't officially say better.
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Post by Jerzkong on May 6, 2008 1:46:22 GMT -6
I'm a bit confused with your last segment because of your grammar....
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Post by redearth on May 6, 2008 21:36:53 GMT -6
Tomato soup. He stared at my teeth. “Do I have something on my teeth?” I asked after making a quick tongue sweep. “You have very sharp incisors. Are they real?” my blind date demanded, still ogling my pearly whites, as if ogling them so intently might turn them into gold. “Yes, they are real. My aunt has the same pointed incisors” “Are you a vampick?” “A WHAT??” “You know, a vamp-ick: a vampire chick.” Now there were two things I could have at this moment – I could have stared back at him and asked - Are you serious? Except I didn’t do that because I knew he was serious! So I did the only other thing I could. I laughed uncomfortably and said- “No, of course not! I can eat this garlic bread. I’ll eat and show you if you want.” “Nah.. That wouldn’t prove anything. Vamps being scared of garlic is a total myth.” “Uh-huh” I said out loud while my head was screaming - what the hell was I thinking to say yes to a blind date. Especially a blind date arranged by my scatterbrain best friend and cousin, Marty. Granted she had been nagging me to go out on a date - any date - for over two months but why did I finally cave in! Mr. Blind Date was giving me a “brief” synopsis of vampires – Yah. I knew the cross thing was a myth. Vampires predated the Christian era so why the hell would they be scared of crosses or holy water? Did he have to give his own theory why? I nodded now and then to look like I was interested in him and his talk – I wasn’t going to leave until I got fed! I mean it’s the least he could do after I decided to venture out of my apartment and come to this godforsaken place of a restaurant and café. My appetizer finally arrived though – the soup of the day – a surprisingly nice smelling tomato soup. My date was annoying me though, why did he have to be into vampires? Well, I guess every other Tom, Dick and Harry is into vampires these days. Speaking of dicks, the whole craze was started by some stupid guy who confessed his vampire identity on a reality show called “True Lies” of all things! Many people especially of the younger generation had started believing in the night dwelling creatures after that incident. Still a lot of the saner population was still skeptic – hopefully or I’d go crazy hearing these stories and theories on every date. “I would like to kill one, you know, or possibly ask one to bite me – to turn me into one of them. I’m not sure which” my blind date’s squeaky voice pierced through my thoughts. I wanted to tell him that a bite would probably kill him as he didn’t look like he had enough blood to fill a small bottle of milk let alone enough to feed a full grown vampire’s thirst. His pale arms had scraggly platinum blond hair while his face was paler with reddish freckles underneath his eyes and at the tips of his nose – like drops of blood scattered on a white washed floor. Where did Marty find this guy? I decided to tackle the tomato soup in front of me instead of looking at his pale oily hair which was swept in a curly manner near his neck – almost making a circle next to the vein in his neck. “The soup is good” I said. I had to change topics or I would end up killing him myself. “Uh-huh” he nodded but he was definitely far away probably thinking about how to catch a vampire chick and get her to bite him. Well conversation wasn’t important – it wasn’t like I was going to every meet him again. I picked up my bowl of tomato soup with one hand and tilted it to one side. Scooped the remaining with my rounded silver spoon and slurped it – slowly savoring every last delicious drop. When I looked up, not only was Mr. Blind Date staring at me but so were the couple on the neighboring restaurant table and the waiter who was coming towards our table. “I’ll be serving you both from now on as your previous server is indisposed. Would you like another serving of the soup, ma’am?” the tall waiter, inquired politely, though I could see a glint of laughter in his eyes. This new guy was as yummy as the soup with his beautiful dark long hair just to the edge of his sloping neck. His eyes were the golden grey of a rusted nail. The restaurant/café’s yellowing shirt and black slacks had made our previous server look sickly but made this guy look like he had stepped out of the front covers of a romance novel. I smiled, nearly giggled but stopped myself and said - “No, it’s okay. Thank you. I’ll have the steak now if it’s ready – it should be, as I ordered it to be rare.” He nodded and left- giving me a great view of his perfect butt. I turned back to my blind date, deciding to be more civil to the guy who had agreed to bring me to this fabulous place. He was definitely not as happy though – he had probably noticed me ogling our waiter’s behind with the same intensity he had ogled my teeth. I decided to excuse myself to go to the little girl’s room – and on the way to the bathroom, I turned to head towards the restaurant/café’s kitchen. “Can I help you ma’am? This area is out of bounds for guests.” the waiter said. He definitely looked right in place in the kitchen though. “I guess I want another serving after all” I said my eyes gaining a sleepy quality – my cousin Marty calls it my slutty come-hither look. The tall guy definitely thought so too and he followed me to an empty closet – it was probably an old closet to hang coats but now it became Mr. Hot Waiter’s and mine secret place. We kissed until I bit his lips. He looked at me confused. I continued kissing him - his cheek, and slowly using my tongue to make circles, his ears and then his neck. Then I opened my mouth fully and sucked his neck, letting my sharpened incisors break the soft skin. He was shocked for a second and then belatedly started to fight. It was too late though as I had sucked half his blood already – the rest I savored ounce by ounce, drop by drop till all that was left of the magnificent man was a dry husk. They never looked that good after, for some reason. I slowly straightened my blouse and my hair and walked out towards my blind date’s table. My date was off again in another world. I sat back down and this time we actually conversed about something other than his obsession – about his life growing up, his school, college – you name it and I heard it. The rare steak unfortunately never arrived as all the guests were suddenly told to vacate. When my blind date asked them why we had to leave – they stated that a dead body had been found. We drove back but not in silence – each of us had our theories about what happened – and Mr. Blind Date especially had a very active imagination. When he walked me to my door, I thanked him for the wonderful date. He smiled, gave me a quick peck on my check, said he had a good time as well – maybe we could go out again. This time he was not looking at my teeth.
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Post by redearth on May 6, 2008 21:37:26 GMT -6
P.S - That was part of my portfolio for my english class!
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Post by Jerzkong on May 7, 2008 11:28:27 GMT -6
Hahahah, that was.... interesting Vampick. That's hilarious. Oh, so Von Tesla, they're ALL humans? Like the aliens are humans from different planets? Is that right? My story was for portfolio too...
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E.V.T
Blue Belt
[M:5350]
I'm not dead, just hibernating[ss:edisnoom ...oom ...m]
Posts: 764
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Post by E.V.T on May 7, 2008 16:31:14 GMT -6
yeah, the four faces of man, the young protector, the moderate idealist, the old and arrogant, and the old and wise... That's how I branched it, Man spread across the universe in different stages of development, each with their faults and strengths...
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Post by Erniewan on May 15, 2008 23:01:39 GMT -6
We have some really good writers on this board.
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Post by Jerzkong on May 16, 2008 2:54:39 GMT -6
Awesome. I enjoy rereading this thread
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Post by Jerzkong on May 16, 2008 8:16:52 GMT -6
Are you writing these out of your head?
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