Fairy Tail RPG |
神 Administrators: {{Inara Serra}} {{Mazohyst}} 主 Global moderators: {{Ajimeister}} 座 Guild Librarian {{Fumus}} {{Sachio Hanabe}} 裁 Mission Moderators: {{Kanna}} {{Reya Starylight}} {{Hadou}} 司 Librarians: {{Potato}} {{Mango}} {{Grond}} |
FTG Staff |
{{Fairy Tail RPG Rules}} {{Fairy Tail RPG News}} {{Character Creation Template}} {{Character Modification Template}} {{Mission Creation}} {{Mission Request}} {{Grading Request Topic}} {{Guild Members}} {{Item Creation}} {{FTG and You: The Guide 3.0}} {{Project Jumpstart: For Newbies!}} |
| October Event 2013 3; How about a scary story? | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Oct 6 2013, 12:12 PM (2,619 Views) | |
| Zen | Oct 30 2013, 11:15 AM Post #21 |
![]()
S-Class
|
The man panted heavily as he ran through the hallways. Hallways they were, not the caverns they had entered. Red streaked the walls, and sometimes he almost tripped over something squishy, but his eyes remained focused on the hallway in front of him. He tried not to think what it was that covered the walls and dripped into his hair sometimes, or what it was he tripped over. Out. He had to get out. Only he couldn't. All there was was that endless hallway. Everything had gone wrong. They should have never gone to Hell's Descent in the first place! Oh sure, it went well, rummaging around for a while. They hadn't encountered anything. Then suddenly darkness, and he had awoken in here. How long had he been running since? Hours? Days? The water and food he had had with him had long run out, his legs hurt, and his muscles were hurting. But he couldn't stop. It would get him. Suddenly blackness opened at his side, a passage that led into a different direction. Just like in the hallway he was in, it seemed to stretch beyond sight, lighted by weak, flickering torches. For a moment he felt his heart stop. Had he seen movement there? No, no, no! Even if it was someone else, it was too dangerous, too dangerous! It would find him! And so he ran. The hallway seemed to almost be endless. Another side passage. His heart skipped again. Was that more movement? But it went the other way from the previous one... No, no! No thinking! Anything else was bad! And on and on and on he ran. The hallways felt cramped. Tight. The atmosphere was thick, heavy. The air was clear here, he knew it was, but to his lungs it might as well have been filled with thick smoke. Breathing came hard to him. Where was the exit? Was there an exit?! He had been running for hours and hours and hadn't seen a single door! Suddenly he heard something. It was quiet, at the edge of his hearing, but it was there. He seemed to be approaching it, too. It was a human voice. Over and over, it repeated the same word, long and drawn out like it was shouting. "Help." So there was someone else alive in here? It seemed like it. For all his determination to avoid any people he might find, after so long, he longed for human contact. This person didn't seem like they were doing very well, so they wouldn't be a burden for him. Biting his lip, he considered turning around. No, he couldn't do that. It was back there. Forward was the only way he could go. Forward was where the voice was. And as he ran, slipping on squishy things with hard bits in them, using red-smeared walls as support to stand up again, the cries for help grew louder. It wasn't there. It never left its victims alive. Whatever the voice was, it was likely someone who had an unlucky fall. He made no illusions that he could save him, but it would be nice to at least hear a human voice for a bit longer. Whoever it was had big lungs. He could swear he had been running for half an hour, and still the screams were growing louder. And that's what they were, he realized. Screams. Not shouts to see if someone else was there. Screams of pain and panic. But the voice didn't seem to be moving. This wasn't natural. The screams grew louder with every step. It felt like his eardrums might rupture! The sound seemed to cut down to his very bones, and grip his heart in tendrils of ice! It was as if the pain of the screaming man was being transferred to him. And still just that one word. Help. And then something bone-chillingly terrifying happened. The screams of pain changed. Laughter. The voice was laughing. Mad laughter. It was no longer one voice. A thousand, a million voices, laughing, each one like a red-hot needle driven into his skull. He could no longer go forward, he had to turn back! But when he turned back, there it was. It's behind you right now, you know. Don't breathe. Don't move. It is behind you. |
![]() |
|
| 栄 Snow | Oct 31 2013, 06:05 AM Post #22 |
|
Dark Lorde of the Sith
![]()
|
The Mad Blood Family "Have you heard of the tale of the Mad Blood Family? Of course not you little maggot, that's why I'm going to tell you. Why am I going to tell you? So you can get some education in that small brain of yours ... But mainly, I'm bored. Now, where to begin ... Oh yes, from the start like any good story..." ~ Halloween is a mixed emotional state of happiness and joy unlike other Holidays such as Christmas. With Halloween comes joy, anger and fear but most of all there is blood. Mad Blood to be exact. Once, every Halloween at the stroke of midnight the Mad Blood Family arrive. The Mad Blood Family appears to spread trickery, fear and death throughout the main cities of Fiore but the strange thing is that nobody finds the dead. They die and then simply ... Vanish. Gone from sight and the world of course, yet no one knows or even cares for that matter. Those whom know of the recently departed lose all memory of them, nothing remains of them. It's like they never even existed in the first place! The Mad Blood Family itself consists of a Father and his two children, the Daughter and the Son. It's unclear where the Mother is or if the Mother even existed to begin with, perhaps she's dead? The Father like any man looks after his children, though perhaps his ways are a little grim and morbid but they work. He teaches his children to trick and kill to invoke the Mad Blood something which allows them to use their supernatural powers, some say magic and others say potato but it's all the same really. Dressed in clothes of old and wielding a fake, but very real, different weapon every Halloween they spread their chaos throughout Fiore starting in Magnolia and spreading to the other cities. Spilling blood, hearing screams, dancing in blood and laughing the night away as they line the streets with blood that looks and tastes like strawberry syrup, bodies of candy piling up on the streets which are soon moved and eaten by children or others passing by. It makes sense really that the candy bodies are indeed actually those they recently killed. The Mad Blood Family do like to play tricks on people after all and what better way to forget your dearest lover than to eat part of their body that's been turned to candy. Of course it may not be your dearest lover but perhaps a friend, parent or hell even your cat. A cackle is usually heard as the living start to eat the candy bodies, a cackle of joy yet also evil intent mixing in the wind that seems to urge the people further in their giving into their sweet tooth. Once every city has been tricked and innocents have been killed and converted into candy the Mad Blood Family sits at the highest point and laughs together as they listen to the still echoing screams that they can hear, those of candy still screaming for help and to be released only to find that no help will come. Once morning comes the Family return to their own realm and watch from their as bodies of candy are discovered and the humans began to eat and fill themselves, children eating once human people but now just candy. The laughs of madness and delight filling the Mad Blood household... ~ "And of course this happens every Halloween, though sometimes I like to take my children a little earlier instead of always on midnight. Oh, I'm sorry didn't I tell you I was The Father? No matter little worm, you'll be next anyway. I hope you spend time with those you love because come midnight on Halloween it'll be your last. I wonder how good your body will taste as candy, then again it won't be me eating your body but perhaps those of your family. Oh how cruel! Your own family eating your candy converted body, I think I may just plan that actually. Sleep well, reader. If you dare. Though by all means, stay awake and meet your fate." |
![]() |
|
| Melody | Oct 31 2013, 06:47 AM Post #23 |
![]()
D-Class
|
"A tale of a young girl's past" A young girl with long black hair silently sat on her bed in her inn room, she kicked off her shoes and carefully with a tired yawn laid under the covers and faced the wall. As a small cold breeze blew through the cracked window and made her shudder with it's cold embrace, she began to have flashbacks of the past as she drifted off to sleep. A certain event had taken place during her childhood, nearly a year after her and her family moved out of the city of Magnolia and a week after the little girl's eighth birthday. The night of halloween was fast approaching, the air got colder, the trees leafs changed colors and began to fall and drift off with the chilly wind. It was early in the afternoon when the black haired child heard silent whispers in the winds, she couldn't make out what it said and before she could try and listen to it again, her mother came and lovingly took her hand and lead her home. Later that cold, unforgiving night. She heard the hushed whispers of the cold winds once again, as they blew through out the small crack in her window. The girl had forgotten to fully close the window, but when she got up out of her bed and tiredly rubbed her eyes and made her way towards her bedroom window. The child suddenly froze as she heard the wind's hushed whispers more clearly now then before, it was calling out to her for whatever reason. Her childish curiosity got the better of her and she tired to sneak out the house. However her father was up having a mid-night snack, and stopped her with a single question "You know it's too late to be playing outside right?" He said with a light smile as his young daughter tiredly rubbed her eyes and nodded. The child then said in a tired low voice and a yawn "But the wind wants me to go outside.." Her father gently patted her on the head, and brought her back to her bedroom. "Surreee it does." he said teasingly as he tucked her into bed, and then left the room. Next mourning was the twenty-eighth, halloween was only a few short days away. This small girl was excited, it would be her first halloween outside of Magnolia town, and this was something she was looking forward to. To see what halloween is like so far away from the place she was born. Like usual she played with her new friends, getting along better with the boys then the girls more often then not. Though soon she would hear the wind whispering secrets into her ear, the small girl began to be afraid. Having no clue of what the wind's intentions were, she had trouble sleeping that night. But this time she closed the window fully. Two days later it was the thirtieth day of october, and the wind's voice only seem to grow stronger and stronger. That night the child snuck out of the window of her room and followed the wind's whispers to its source. She made her way into the silent forest, even all the animals and birds were sleeping, safe for the owls and other creatures of the night. Eventually the whispers lead her to a small opening within the forest. When the child walked into the center of the opening she felt a cold chill run up her spine, and when checked what was behind her her face filled with shock. It was a spirit, or at least that's what the child thinks it is. The otherworldly being was about ten feet tall and very very slender, its eyes were pure glowing weight and the colors that made up it's body were green, white, and black. The being got down on one knee and offered the child it's hand, it's hand that had long black fingers and a green palm with a long curved streak of white through it. The tiny innocent girl was confused and hesitant at first. But strangely, now that she's seen the being it's like all her fears are washed away. It was almost like, she could now tell what it's intentions are, and that they were not dark. Slowly she reached out her hand and grabbed a hold of the spirit's, it lacked a mouth but she could pick up a smile from it somehow. A gentle breeze blew around them and the child could clearly understand the voice now, and it said "Child of man, born with the luck to befriend those of other worlds. There is but one thing I ask of you." She closed her eyes as it spoke "Will you strike a deal with me, to let me into your soul and form, if only for a while. so that I may see through the eyes of human innocence, and understand the world through a new light?" The black haired girl opened her eyes and tilted her head "What do you mean?" She asked as the spirit simply tried to explain it the best he could to a child. After getting a general idea of what he meant, she nodded along and agreed to the spirit's request. She found her self in her bed the next mourning and thought it was all a dream, but when she went to the bathroom and looked into the mirror she noticed something. Her eyes were a slightly greener shade of blue now, and had a very very faint glow to them. No one else seemed to notice how ever, she wondered if this was some form of magic. Though her confusion and curiosity was outweighed by her excitement for the candy getting holiday. The small girl dressed up in the costume her mother helped her pick, it was a cute samurai costume with a red and pink kimono and a plastic katana. From there they went through the typical halloween routine after it got dark enough, go to as many houses as you can and build up a whole ton of yummy, sweet, candy. And having a blast the entire time, then they went home and had a small family gathering to celebrate the holiday. Everyone talked and was laughing, it was a very sweet moment to go along with the, well, sweets. That night when she was in her small comfy bed, she heard the hushed whispers of the wind again, as it said "Thank you" and the voice drifted away as her eyes returned to normal, and the small girl peacefully slept. It was mourning now, and the young girl got out of her bed in the inn and smiled about the dream she had, such a lovely memory of the past, she wondered how she could ever forget it. The teenaged girl with her long black hair began to put it into twintails, and heard a voice from window from the street down below ask her "Hey Melody, want to go out to eat?" Melody got up and walked towards the window, opening it and happily saying to her friend "Sure, I'll be there in a minute" as a cold gentle breeze brushed past her with it's silent whisper. |
![]() |
|
| 栄 Squid | Oct 31 2013, 08:15 AM Post #24 |
![]()
Invading your Internet
![]()
|
“Do not make me call your name a third time, young lady!” Caroline held her breath, motionless, eyes wide open. She wouldn’t go without a fight this time. “You have until three to get out here, Caroline! If I have to come find you, you’re going to be in big trouble! One...two...three! That’s it!” Caroline’s heart raced as she heard her mother’s footsteps getting louder. She was starting to deeply regret hiding in the same spot she used last time. Why not under the bed? Why not in the cupboard? Why— “Got you!” her mother shouted as she swung open the closet door. Caroline yelped in surprise and tried to make a run for it. She was an easy catch, though, and her mother scooped her up in one swift move. “Beth, you put me me down now!” shrieked Caroline. “You’re going to be grounded until you’re 30 if you think you can shout orders at me...and stop calling me Beth. It’s Mom to you, missy.” “What kind of mother puts her child in such danger?” Caroline shouted angrily. “You should really audition for the school play,” her mother grunted dryly as she struggled to hold on to a squirming Caroline. “You are the most dramatic child in existence. It is just a bath. Enough!” Caroline froze as she saw the bathroom come in sight and began to tremble. Her mother shut the door behind them and began running both taps. “No!” Caroline screamed as her mother unscrewed the lid to bubble bath. “I need to be able to see!” “Fine!” her mother snapped. “Just get clean. It has been two days. This is ridiculous. You’re way too old for this. You have ten minutes. Not a minute more, not a minute less.” Caroline felt her stomach lurch into her throat as her mother plopped her into the water and walked away, shaking her head and muttering something about hosing her down in the backyard next time. Her eyes immediately fell on the drain. All seemed normal, calm, and quiet—but that was how it had seemed last time, too. The big white squishy loofah dangled from the hot water knob, just over the drain. Caroline reached her hand out and slowly inched closer and closer, her eyes locked on the drain. Closer, no sign of anything yet, closer, the loofah just a few inches from her tiny fingers now. She pinched the sponge and pulled until she heard a noise that made her whole body freeze. A loud groaning of pipes ran loudly through the wall to her right, making Caroline jump and splash water all over the floor. The creaking grew louder as it travelled up the wall and over her head in the ceiling, then down the wall to her left, then beneath her, louder still, until it she heard it stop just below the drain. Caroline panted, gripping the sides of the tub, her eyes fixed on the little black holes of the drain, waiting. “Caroline.” Her eyes widened. She heard her name whispered and then a solitary bubble pushed through one of the little black holes, slowly floating to the surface. It hit the surface, lingered, and then, just as it popped, Caroline felt a rush of water behind her, like what she felt in the lazy river at the water park. The water grew murky and starting pulling her toward the drain. “Beth! Mom! Anybody! Help!” Caroline gasped as her clawed uselessly at the slippery tub surrounding her. “No! Not down there! Please!” The pull grew stronger and Caroline gripped harder to the sides of the tub. She slowly inched closer and closer and closer, kicking and shouting and flailing in vain. She pulled her legs in tight to her body, doing anything she could to distance herself from the terrifying fate waiting for her down the pipe. She would get sucked down, and there was nothing she could do. In a final desperate attempt to save herself, she grabbed hold of the towel on the rack, but the tension rod slipped and gave way, crashing down. That was it. Her last hope, destroyed. “I am not going quietly!” Caroline bellowed as ferociously as her tiny lungs could manage. “That is for sure!” her mother shouted back, bursting into the room again. “Wh—...Ugh! What is in the water! Caroline get out of there!” She scooped up Caroline and wrapped her up in a towel. “It was sucking me down! It got me! It was dragging me down the drain again! You see? It won’t stop! Just like like last time! Don’t make me do this again!” Caroline sobbed hysterically. “Last time?” her mother asked puzzled. “Oh...oh!” she said with a wave of realization. “That’s why you’ve been so scared? Honey, you just had to explain this to me and I would have been able to give you a logical explanation! I take showers, so I wouldn’t know about the bath situation. It seems some pipes got crossed somewhere. That would explain the murky water and the suction. It’s not a monster! I can fix this, don’t worry. I’m so sorry, honey, there’s really nothing to be afraid of. You can take shower from now on, okay?” Caroline was skeptical, but she felt immense relief to be out of the tub and have a new explanation for the monster. She trudged to her room, exhausted, and collapsed in her bed, still wrapped in her towel. She felt herself starting to doze off as her mother’s explanation ran through her head. Her eyelids got heavy, and just as she felt sleep trying to take her, she shot upright like a bolt. “But...but who—” she thought to herself, eyes widening. “Who whispered my name?” Edited by Squid, Oct 31 2013, 08:28 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| 栄 Otaku | Nov 1 2013, 01:56 AM Post #25 |
|
MAGE-PRIVILEGED GUILD SCUM
![]()
|
Part I Part II Edited by Otaku, Nov 1 2013, 02:11 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| Colossi | Nov 1 2013, 05:01 AM Post #26 |
![]()
Your friendly neighborhood cuttlefish
|
Beautiful. But of course, a masquerade ball in Shirotsume had to be just perfect. In the newly-built Sterling Hall, designed just for occasions as grand and magnificent as this Masquerade of Hallow's Eve, was the largest event in all of Shirotsume this evening. No man or woman of any high standing in the town would be caught dead not attending the masquerade - and to think, all of it was free! For an unknown benefactor, to build such a place just for such an event? Surely, everyone had to find out who it was - and this very ball was this person's to host. Surely, just surely, this mysterious being would reveal his or her identity! The unwed and the young swooned in their imaginations, imagining the partner of their dreams; the older ones swooned not as much- but imagine, if one could make an acquaintance of such a person! Surely, a distinguished and wealthy person! And what if- what if, on this night, they could pair this person with one of their own, a son or a daughter or a cousin or a nephew or a niece? Yes, it was Halloween, but all were in high hopes in this fine party. The Sterling Hall was built to be amazing, and the chandelier of a thousand crystal lights proved no less than just that. In this hall, all were gathered about in the main hall, eating, drinking, chatting, just waiting for the host of the hour to come out onto that balcony, just waiting for the host to come down one of those two red velvet staircases, just waiting for a chance at a dream that had nothing to do with the holiday. But it was already past half past eight in the evening, and no such figure had appeared yet. Not that anyone would conceded defeat, no, not here in such a public event. So they waited. Presidents of corporations, distinguished mages, politicians, artists, all of high society dined and mingled in that great crowd in the main hall. Nothing was to worry. Servants? Plenty of them. Men and women in professional clothing, all with trays and platters and glasses aplenty. Chefs, maids, and butlers, all donning masks - everything was cared for. There was no need to worry, and the biggest problem would be if the host of the hour came late and embarrassed himself - but then they would just all have a great big laugh and leave, would they not? The clocks struck nine, and the crowd grew hushed as a figure appeared onto the balcony of the second floor. A figure in a plain white mask stood there, overlooking all of the men and the women, ladies and gentlemen alike. But he was only wearing a red suit, not a true costume - so he must have been a valet for the host of the hour. Noticed also, was the whiteness of the hair, upon which many a young man and lady was startled; what if the host was old and aged and ugly? They'd not much time to think so. The man in the red suit removed his mask, and all stared to see one they had seen before. "Sinclair, former butler of the Raiquen House?" An audience whispered, wondering what could come of it. "Sinclair, who's master died and his daughter departed from here? Sinclair, a mere butler who's ties were cut ages ago? What is Sinclair doing here?" But the man in the red suit smiled thinly, and began to speak. "Firstly, I must say - thank you all, for blessing the floors of this hall with your presence. This place and this ball was of many years of planning, a task I am proud to say was entirely of my own efforts-" What was this? Impossible! Sinclair, who was but a butler? Sinclair, the man who was no more than a former staff member for a disgraced household, the lifetime attendant of a man who died in shame and misery? Sinclair? Sinclair smiled politely, looking down at his audience, basking in the shock and outrage directed at him. He, who was a mere servant. He, Sinclair, servant of the Raiquen House - he, Sinclair, the fallen, the old, the decrepit, the useless. He smiled, looked around, waited for the inevitable dying down of the voices. He spoke. "As you are well aware, tonight is Hallow's Eve. It is a night of mystery, of intrigue, of haunt and horror alike. Therefore, I have found it fitting this evening to gather you all here - for I have a truth to declare, and a spectacle prepared for your enjoyment." The people were silent. None had expected this, not him, not who he was, or what he was doing. None had an idea of what to expect - so they listened. "I am well aware that the ones responsible for the fall of the Raiquen Family have been persecuted according to law, and have served their terms- shortened, no doubt, thanks to exchanges of Jewels and promises. I am also aware, that tonight, all of you in this room are, at the furthest, connected to at least one of those perpetrators." He paused, letting his audience take it in. Their surprise, their shock - how pleasing it was. "Tonight, therefore, I have prepared a spectacle, specifically tailored for you all to enjoy. Worry not. This is the first show of its kind, and doubtlessly a once-in-a-lifetime event. Without further ado, now, shall we begin?" Sinclair, that old man, the former butler of a disgraced man of a fallen house, rose his arms. As his arms rose, the masks fell from the servants. Butlers and maids, chefs and valets, those men and women in their simple suits and plain outfits dropped their masks - to reveal lifeless faces of wood and stone. "Behold, my dearest guests, this grand premier of this magical show: the Puppets of House Raiquen!" The audience gasped, some began to applaud, others began to whisper- but in the midst of all this, one began to scream. One of the servant-puppets, with its wooden limbs and metal arms, pulled out a knife hidden in its torso - and a man fell down, blood on his torso. Then a man stood up, blood on his torso. Then a man became a puppet, blood on it's torso. Soon, all were screaming. By the time the clock struck ten, the room was dead silent. One man remained standing - Sinclair. There he stood, a single man in a hall of white tainted with red. Tables and chairs laid there, overturned. The remnants of several puppets, laid on the floor - pesky mages. But greatest of all were those rows of people, or what were once people. Once men, now puppets. Once flesh and blood, now wood and stone, metal and string, with lifeless eyes and a painted smile. It was a collection- no, an army. Presidents and politicians, mages and artists, now held together by magic and material, mere marionettes to be moved by a man with strings. Sinclair's smile never wavered. "Now, we will handle the guilty ones in Crocus next, shall we not?" Across the hall, men and women alike nodded in unison. "Very well, then. You will atone for your sins, and come with me to punish them, will you not?" For once, there were no second opinions. |
![]() |
|
| 御 Marcat | Nov 3 2013, 10:46 PM Post #27 |
|
Aka. Best Person Ever
![]()
|
Frank Krup was an unremarkable man. He was a balding middle aged man, his once jet black hair now reduced to mere wisps along his head. He was of average height, or average build, and of average facial appearance. He worked an unremarkable job, dutifully scrubbing the floors and bathrooms at Borne & Gary Law Firms. No one cared about the janitor, no one gave him a second glance. To them, he was nobody, not even a figure on the chart, or a variable in a calculation, he was nothing, he was obsolete. Frank never liked mirrors, mainly for what they showed when he looked into them. He hated his reflection, he hated the sunken wrinkled face that looked back at him, he hated how average he was, how forgettable he was. For this reason, he steered away from mirrors, quickly averting his gaze the moment he saw one, and whenever he happened to see his reflection, he would pause for milliseconds before he turned away. One day at his work, Frank was told about some dirty mirrors in the men's room. He tried to protest, not willing to spend all so much time around the mirrors, but the boss insisted, so with resigned depression, he set about to work. He tried to work quickly, not thinking too much about his work. Frank focused on the process of cleaning and the sensations that pervaded it, the feeling of cold water on his fingers, the smell of soap in the air and movement of his hand on the smooth reflective surface. Despite his hatred for them, Frank liked the smoothness of mirrors, they were so soft, so welcoming to the touch. It made him feel relaxed, he wondered how easy life would be if it was as smooth as the surface of the mirror. Frank hated the mirrors, but loved their feel, how ironic. His fingers stroked the surface of the mirrors, and when Frank looked up, he found his fingers on the nose of his reflection. He looked up, stunned as he stared at himself. A feeling of disgust well up in his stomach, he went to avert his eyes. "Wait!" Frank stopped. He looked around him, wondering if there was someone else in the bathroom. "I'm over here." Slowly, Frank looked at the mirror and stared at his reflection. To his amazement, the reflection stared back at him, a smug look on it's face. "Hello Frank," It said. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while." Frank didn't answer, he stared back at the mirror. "Ugh," the reflection grunted, looked at Frank's body. "You really look horrible, don't you?" Sweat began to bead on Frank's face. "W-What do you want from me..." The reflection gave him a patronizing smile. "Me? I don't want anything from you. It's what do you want from me." Frank gasped. He grabbed the edge of the sink to steady himself. "W-What w-would I want fro-from you..?" The reflection laughed. "Many things, Frank." It answered. "Look at you, you're nothing, stuck with a dead end job, no one cares about you, no one looks at you." Frank tried to shake his head. "You know it to be true. You are worthless. You are average. You are nobody." Frank shook his head a little harder. "Don't lie to yourself Frank, I know why you never look at your reflection, because your sick of who you are and what you have become. You hate yourself, you hate yourself with a passion. You would be more happy if you were dead, BECAUSE THEN, THERE WOULD BE A GRAVESTONE. AT LEAST THAT WOULD LEAVE A MEMENTO OF YOUR EXISTENCE." Tears streamed down Frank's face as he shook his harder still. He didn't want it to be true. He didn't want the words to pierce his existence and to be so true. Frank bowed his head, his tears falling into the sink. The reflection eyes' softened as he looked into Frank's crying form. "Don't be so sad, Frank, I know you. I've always been with you, always been watching you. I'm just as sad as you are Frank." "Look at me, we can change that. Do you know what the first step of fixing a problem is? To admit that there is a problem." Frank nodded. "I have a problem." The reflection clapped its hands enthusiastically. "Good! Together, we can become someone special, we can be remarkable. We can be perfect!" Frank wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his uniform. "O-Okay." "Together we will be remarkable." Frank blinked as he stared at his reflection. "And how will we do that?" The reflection smiled back at Frank. "We start by helping other people become memorable, we will make other people famous. How does that sound?" Frank smiled. He liked that idea. He liked it a lot. |
![]() |
|
| Levvins | Nov 5 2013, 04:17 PM Post #28 |
|
*squishes fumloon*
|
The creepiest of places have no reason to be creepy. “There’s no reason to be afraid of the dark,” many have said. Many have attested to, in fact; the fact that many of them have been there, done that and survived must mean that there’s absolutely no harm. … right? Of course, the innate fear of the unknown by every sensible being – the trepidation of encountering possible danger, was understandable. Spend one night out in the woods? Be careful not to stumble upon a bear trap. Spend one night on the streets? Beware of the thugs. Spend one night at sea? Have someone at the helm lest you go astray or capsize. He blinked. The ruins were the only shelter he could find for the night. A dense rainforest everywhere around him but the very area he was situated. Plus he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to go anywhere else. It was dark, he needed shelter - he needed a place to sleep for the night. Where else but the coziness of brick and mortar? And so he set up camp, started a small fire and fell asleep next to it. The rumbles in the distance. Foreboding. Apprehension. The thunderstorm that night was like any other. Yet, thunderstorms always gave people the chills – it was as if something bad was happening not too far away and the feeling of impending danger was always apparent. For a sleeping individual it wouldn’t have meant much, but the roar of thunder above pierced through the sound sleep he had. As his eyes shot open he looked around. There was nothing. Not even the ruins he set up camp in. Just below where his head was placed was dirt. Parched, solid dirt. The winds that were blowing weren’t wet, neither were they horrendously cold. He woke up on what seemed to be the surface of a dried up lake. His surroundings were literally nothing – the curvature of the geography of Earthland was very apparent. He was high up. On a pedestal. Not wherever he was previously. And the reason he didn’t feel horrendously cold? The sun was bearing down on him – he was much closer to the sun than he had ever been. If he were hard pressed he would have estimated his altitude right then to be about five kilometres above ground level. It was as if the winds whispered to him as the words soon wafted to his ear. “I’m sure they’ll be coming soon.” From no one in particular. By then he was already scared stiff. The figures that materialised bore familiar figures. They appeared in such a way that they were equally spaced out in a circle, around the centre of the circular pedestal. Due north, the famed A-class Take Over mage. Much was said about her capabilities on the battlefield. Due northeast, the fearsome B-class Darkness mage. He wasn’t on the dark side, but anyone who knew him well would know that he was pretty much teetering on the edge. Due east, the S-class fire mage, known throughout Earthland. He had a penchant for utter destruction. Due southeast, his best friend. B-class, exquip. Due northwest was pretty much his benefactor. His mentor. His inspiration. S-class ice mage. Due west was the head chef from his guild. He wasn’t too shabby either – A-class in capability as a water mage. Due southwest? His sister. Comparable with him in strength. B-class light mage. And of course, himself due south. B-class metal mage. The winds were the ones to voice out yet again. “One of you will head down the pedestal alive.” “We’ve disabled your magic.” “You will all be fighting on an equal physical skill level.” “Go now.” They fell. One by one. The fateful plummet down the heights seemed to lengthen every time a limp body descended the vast distance. The victor was decided. He emerged from the ordeal by opening his eyes. In the ruins. The flame had just petered out. The thunderstorm had died down. He was done with his mission in the forest. He left without thinking much about what had happened in his dream. His dream. It was just a dream. The bustle in the guild was uncharacteristic. “Hey.” “Have you seen them lately?” “Seven of them just seem to have disappeared entirely.” “Half of our guild's strike force.” “What on earth is going on?” Chillingly, there was another voice. A whisper. “And how will you live with it, knowing you know full well?” “This is but basic torture, human.” “You know who you are.” “We are yet to come.” Edited by Levvins, Nov 5 2013, 04:26 PM.
|
![]() |
|
| 栄 Gale | Nov 5 2013, 04:24 PM Post #29 |
![]()
Assassination Extraordinaire
![]()
|
(OOC: Ugh, shit story warning.) Charles had been a strange kid when the merchant family had found him, starving on the streets, with enough bruises on his undeveloped, childish body to shame a professional boxer. With matted, oily hair, a variety of cuts and gashes, and a voice that broke with thirst every few seconds, he had seemed every bit like your typical street vagrant. Except for his eyes. Despite the child's weakness, hunger, injuries and clouded backstory; despite his trembling limbs and paper-thin skin, his infected cuts and apple-sized bruises, the boy's eyes never ceased to strike fear into the merchant's heart. Whereas the rest of his body was weak and dying, his eyes held no trace of fear, or hunger, of impending demise. They stared into one's soul, searching through every single crevasse possible for every single dirty secret. The eyes of Charles were disproportional to his body, frighteningly alert and experienced. But the merchant family had taken him in nonetheless, for they were being of charitable personalities and golden hearts. The first day with Charles passed without much talk from the boy. All the boy did was watch, stare, observe the family with a strange sense of concentration. He ate in silence, slept in silence, looked in silence and talked in silence. He lived in silence for the first night, drawing breaths where no one really cared. For the first night, the merchant family was full of cheer and life, laughs shaking the frames of their bodies as they chattered happily over the dinner table. For the first night, Charles didn't sleep, staring wide-eyed at the family with his frighteningly intense eyes until they drifted off into a restless, tiring slumber. The second day with Charles passed with a bit more noise than the first. His breaths were noticed now and then by the family, his footfalls resonating quietly throughout the household as the family lived with accommodating an extra child. The family spoke less this night, having once again noticed Charles's existence. For the second night, Charles stood by the bedroom door, staring silently at the family with his frighteningly intense eyes, leaving mere moments before the family went to sleep. The third day with Charles passed by like a flash, for it had been a busy day for the merchant family. Business had been good, and Charles had managed to help out, if even for a bit, moving around wares and goods. That day, Charles replied to anything with a series of grunts. The family talked quieter that day, instead choosing to ponder at what exactly Charles was to them now, and what the boy had done before being picked up. For the third night, Charles stood by the bedroom hallway, staring at each and every member of the merchant family as they passed by, turning around and disappearing from their sleepless-eyes the moment all three had passed by. That night, there was the faint scream of steel grating against steel. The fourth day with Charles passed boorishly, for it was a saturday. Charles smiled and frowned; grimaced and grinned; smirked and was annoyed. The fourth day the family got quieter still, not nearly as lively as the first few days, with hardly as many words being exchanged amongst the family. The fourth night, Charles stood by his room, staring at the family with his frighteningly intense eyes sunk deep into a socket of withered skin and sunken bones. That night, there was the quiet straining of leather against steel audible. The fifth day with Charles passed quietly. Charles laughed and cried; sighed and whined. He exhibited life in it's purest, simplest form. The fifth day, the family was focused on Charles and his identity, trading even fewer words than before. That night, Charles stared at the family behind a partially-shut bedroom door, his frighteningly intense eyes scrutinizing them as they walked past. That night, there was the sounds of water steaming from within the kitchen. The sixth day with Charles passed lifelessly. Charles laughed and cried; sighed and whined; grinned and grimaced; smiled and frowned. He spoke, he asked and answered, he communicated willingly. That night, Charles went to bed with a smile, his frightening eyesight having been burned into the minds of every resident. His snores kept the merchant family, unexplainably sleepless, awake. The seventh day with Charles passed without notice, invisible to the rest of the world. That night, Charles slept soundly without worry or concern. The family failed to fall asleep. The eight day with Charles was a musical affair, the orphan humming a single verse of a single song, in endless repetition. The merchant family lived in silence, without notice of the world or the people around them. Throughout the day, Charles hummed the single verse of the single song. It was a hauntingly beautiful song. For the eighth night with Charles, Charles continued to hum the same tune he had in the morning, staring at the merchants from inside his room. His frightfully-intense eyes stared intently into those of the merchants beside the bed. In the later half of the eighth night, the merchants slept soundlessly, sweat of crimson staining the bedsheets. In the later half of the eighth night, the merchant's bedsheets matched the red of Charles's red eye. |
![]() |
|
| Noel | Nov 6 2013, 09:40 AM Post #30 |
|
Teh cuteness =3
|
The Haunted House The three children were all giddy and excited as they approached the mansion of the famous Mind mage, the ace of Fairy Tail that every kid in Magnolia knew about. "If we can get candies from him, we can tell all the other kids that we got lollipops from Noel himself!" a tall kid, dressed up like a Frankenstein said excitedly. His face was criss-crossed by stitches, and there was a big screw going through the middle of his head. "With his load added, our bag will definitely be the fullest!" a girl next to him replied, as she shook a bag of sweets she was holding. She was dressed up as a witch, holding a broom in her hand and wearing an unusual dress of purple color. Another boy, walking next to her, reached into her bag and took a scoop of candies into his hand, "We'll trick him into giving us a treat! Everyone's saying Noel's treats are the best, but no one seems to have ever actually gotten them," the young zombie-boy said, as he let the candies fall back into the bag. "We'll have to find out, then!" Full of determination, the children approached the enormous house, that stretched out both left and right as far as the eye could see, even when the kids had only reached the fence that divided the beginning of Noel's property from the house itself, about hundred meters away. Glancing at one another, they nodded lightly before one of them pushed the fence doors open and led the other two into the frontyard of the Mind mage's mansion. Almost as soon as they did, the fence behind them closed loudly, making them jump and turn around. As they faced the house once again, they'd see that the sky behind it had turned from a clear night sky into a clouded one, the color of the moon blood red. "When did it..?" the girl whispered, as the three of them stood there, motionless. "I-ignore it, it's probably just his magic.." the boy next to her said, tugging on her wrist with his rotten zombie hand, so as to make them move onwards. "We haven't even gotten to the house yet.." "But.. T-there's no way he could do something like that.. c-change the color of the moon.." the girl protested, though she did follow, along with her Frankenstein companion. Like scaredy-cats, the three kids were now approaching the front doors of the mansion. The girl was clutching hard on the bag of candies she was holding, but when her eyes stopped on something up in the air, she almost dropped it. "L-look!" she called out, pointing up into the sky. Their heads turned upwards, and their eyes widened. "I-It's a ghost!" the boy called out. True enough, a floating white ball could be seen high up in the air, making U-turns and loopings. It had big black eyes, which were staring down at the children, and it was floating in the air in front of them as if wanting to prevent them from entering. Watching its movements, the Frankenstein frowned. "Wait a second.. That's not a real ghost!" he called out. "It's flying in the same direction all the time!" As soon as he said that, the ghost's little black eyes became colder, and in the next moment, it had already dashed at them. "R-run!!" the girl squealed, followed by the two boys who didn't want to find out what happened if they got caught by the ghost. "Into the house!" the zombie-boy dictated, as they dashed past the ghost. "Don't look back!" Behind them, the ghost's mouth had opened up wide, as pure black mist started to come out of it, like a cloud of dark fog, which soon fell onto the courtyard, obscuring their vision. "W-what's this.." "Quick, escape into the house!" the voices of the kids could be heard; luckily, they'd grappled each other's hands at some point, helping them not get lost as they stumbled into the scary house, quickly closing the doors behind them. They were all breathing heavily, sliding down the doors into a sitting position to catch their breaths. "W-what was that..?" the zombie-boy said, while the girl continued: "We.. got away.. We can still get the.. sweets.." Clutching the bag in her hands, she protected it like it was the most important thing in the world. "We just have to find him now, and make him give us the sweets.." the other boy said, as they finally managed to catch their breaths. They would slowly stand up and look around the foyer, scarcely lit, the dim light throwing long shadows across the floor. A distant clock was solemnly ticking somewhere in the house. "The house looks empty.. Maybe he's keeping the sweets in the kitchen," the zombie-boy suggested, the other two nodding in agreement. Keeping close together, the children began to move through the main hall towards the doors on the other side, which would lead them into a long corridor. They could barely see a couple of meters ahead, and they were all shaking a little bit as they kept walking down it towards the open doors on the other side of the corridor. Upon reaching them, they would find themselves at the entrance of the kitchen, probably one of the biggest ones they've seen in their life. It stretched out several meters into the darkness, but what they'd see immediately upon entering, would be a big bag of candies sitting on the top of the big dining table. "Look, candies!" the boy yelled out, his eyes lighting up. The girl ran past him and reached the table, shortly followed by the other two. "It's completely full! Even more so than ours!" she gasped. "Take them both!" Greedily, their little voices filled with excitement, they reached for the bag, but the moment the girl's hand touched it, the bag transformed into a human hand, blood trickling from the part where it had been cut-off. It even felt like one, and the smell reminded them of rotten human flesh. The girl squealed, pulling her hand away, and the faces of the boys turned white. They started to make their way away from the table, but the moment they began to retreat, the chairs started to move. Jumping up and down and moving across the floor, they'd soon surround the kids, the animate objects bending dangerously towards them. "W-what's going on..?!" "We need to get out of here!" But with the chairs surrounding them, they wouldn't be able to get to the exit of the kitchen. It became even worse, when the table started to move towards them, and much to the young witch's horror, the hand on top of it. "Let's get out, please, please, please!" she squeaked. "I'll protect you!" the Frankenstein called out bravely, kicking at one of the chairs, to open up the path for them. "RUN!" he yelled, letting the girl and the other boy run through the opening and then followed quickly behind. They'd still be able to hear the clottering of the stools and the table behind them as they left the kitchen behind, running down the dim corridor back into the main foyer. Upon reaching it, they closed the doors behind, breathing heavily. "We need to get out of here!" the zombie-boy protested. "Are you crazy?! I'm not giving up the reward! We didn't come here all for nothing!" the Frankenstein boy said back. Both of them turned towards the girl, as if she was the one that would have to give the final jurisdiction. "I want to go back h-.. I want to stay!" she suddenly changed her mind mid-sentence. The two of them looked at her incredulously. Without further ado, the girl began to walk away from them and towards the stairs that would lead upwards. "W-where are you going..?!" the zombie-boy called, freaked out. "I c-can't move my body..! It's moving on my own!! Help!!" the girl cried out. The two boys looked at each other in horror, then ran after her. They reached her when she was about half-way up the stairs, each one of them grabbing one of her hands and pulling on her to stop her from moving, but it was like she was made of stone; nothing they did, helped. She would just continue to walk onwards, despite the struggles the boys were having. The zombie-boy's pale face even turned slightly red from the attempts, despite the white mascara he was wearing. And yet, none of that helped. The girl reached the upper floor and continued to march down the corridor, towards one of the rooms. "S-stop my movements..!" the girl cried, tears now running down her supple cheeks. "W-we're trying, it's not working!" Slowly, the girl moved towards the last room in the corridor, the doors of which were slightly opened. They could hear suckling voices coming from it. "S-stop, stop, stop..!" the girl cried out in terror. However, no matter how hard the two boys were pulling on her sleeves, she would continue the steady marching towards the room, until she reached it, pushing the doors open and walking inside, the doors closing behind the three with a thud. That was when the control over her body was released - she could feel it - but it was now the sheer terror that kept her from moving even an inch. The two other boys were staring at the sight before them incredulously as well, their faces as pale as they could possibly be. On the floor, lay a young boy of about sixteen years old, a wolf tail laying limp on the floor in between his legs, his ears flat against his head. His skin looked pale, his body unmoving; his eyes were closed and his lips seemed like all the blood had been sucked from them. His hand was clutching on a bag of candies, full to the brim, but some of them had fallen out of the bag and onto the floor, probably sometime after the boy had fallen on the ground after he'd been attacked.. ..His attacker was looming over him right now, and the kid's eyes were widened in fear as they watched him kneeling over the lifeless body of the other boy. He was wearing a long, black robe that reached up to his neck and to about half of his head. His skin was completely white. And what would scare the kids the most, would be the fact that they couldn't see his reflection in the mirror behind him, on the other side of the room. They could only see their own, terrified selves, and the body of a dead boy on the floor in front of them. The vampire was hunched over him, sucking blood out of his neck. As he heard the footsteps, he slowly looked up, blood trickling from his pointy teeth down his chin and onto the floor. The kids would see a big, blood-red wound on the other boy's neck. "You want some candies, kids?" the vampire spoke sweetly. "I think I want some of your blood in return.." His mouth spread into a wide grin, showing his teeth, covered in blood-red liquid that slowly trickled down them. The kid's eyes widened in horror, they let out a squeal, as they turned around and ran out of the room. The girl's bag of candies hit the floor, as she dropped it. "Hahahah.. We got them well, didn't we, Kain?" the young vampire said in amusement, as he leaned down and licked the remainder of the ketchup off the 'lifeless'-boy's neck. "Buster was good, too, with that ghost-thing he put up. And the whole kitchen scenario.. I thought I'd pee myself, hahaha.." the young Mind mage giggled. "And so, we managed to get another bag of candies from kids.. Mission Complete." Edited by Noel, Nov 6 2013, 09:42 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() Join the millions that use us for their forum communities. Create your own forum today. Learn More · Register for Free |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Site Events · Next Topic » |












2:36 PM Jul 11









