Post by thedeadidol on Mar 8, 2007 10:19:13 GMT -5
xXx Dead xXx
Time has passed yet everything stands exactly how it was left, but moderized. My life has changed around me and evolved. Maybe I was out longer than I thought. The month is July year two thousand and one and the world is in a much greater era. Rose colored glasses, you could say, but before, everything was better. I was better. Everyone was better to me. But now, I’m a freak. Everything I knew and had before is gone and past. I am a myth. I am dead.
XXx Dead xXx
[Horror.. Something I definitely know a little bit about. A thing I have experienced a time or two in my life. How can someone be horror though? With a vague idea such as horror, it cannot be accomplished. Someone can experience so much of something, however, that they think they are that. Mine is death. Perhaps horror can also be accomplished through this osmosis, but I don’t think so. I think it’s more of a branding to strike an unearned fear into anyone who opposes thou. I think it is somewhat obscure for you to describe yourself in this matter, but I disgress. You are but my first stepping stone in a quest to greatness. You are my springboard. You’ve seen a little bit of combat, and with the knowledge you gained comes a greater understanding of the torment and agony I intend to inflict on you. With the understanding comes sorrow, because there is nil you can do about it. Your life has been placed into my hands, the unstable hands of a self destructed. I’ve recovered from the near fatal accident. My face is destroyed and gives me constant pain and agony. For that, I pass on this anger and resentment towards you. You may not have actually done anything to me directly, but it was people like you that created what is me. It was someone like you that caused my explosion. And it is you that will feel the first grapes of wrath]
Black, white, and flashes of random colors greet the eyes in an impressive display of colors. These colors quickly form into human like shapes and furniture items like chairs and the like. These people stand gathered around in looking as bandages and other cloth is pulled away from a table. A collective gasp is heard when bloody rags begin to be pulled away. A doctor turns away in disgust as well. A young looking woman in a doctor uniform asks a simple question.
Do you have the mask?
A near by man, young looking, not over 20, reaches into a brown paper bag and pulls out a black mask with a green design on it. The young woman bends over and slides the cloth over an unidentifiably mangled head, leaving the head in a much better looking state than the gored and bruised look the head was sporting.
His body may be ready, but is his mind?
He told me he wanted to do this, and I’ve never argued with him. He’s a very thick headed person..
The now masked man sits up on the table and feels at his new mask before climbing down and going to a near by mirror. He looks into the mirror and shrieks in fear. The man who produced the mask goes to him and grabs his arm, holding him up and stopping him from falling.
It must have been more shocking than he thought
He‘s not ready.. I know he‘s not ready..
He‘s going to do it. If he doesn‘t do it now, he never will…
The masked man leaves on his own will as the woman shakes her head in disbelief while a couple of other doctors shuffle papers and clamor in the background.
Time has passed yet everything stands exactly how it was left, but moderized. My life has changed around me and evolved. Maybe I was out longer than I thought. The month is July year two thousand and one and the world is in a much greater era. Rose colored glasses, you could say, but before, everything was better. I was better. Everyone was better to me. But now, I’m a freak. Everything I knew and had before is gone and past. I am a myth. I am dead.
XXx Dead xXx
[Horror.. Something I definitely know a little bit about. A thing I have experienced a time or two in my life. How can someone be horror though? With a vague idea such as horror, it cannot be accomplished. Someone can experience so much of something, however, that they think they are that. Mine is death. Perhaps horror can also be accomplished through this osmosis, but I don’t think so. I think it’s more of a branding to strike an unearned fear into anyone who opposes thou. I think it is somewhat obscure for you to describe yourself in this matter, but I disgress. You are but my first stepping stone in a quest to greatness. You are my springboard. You’ve seen a little bit of combat, and with the knowledge you gained comes a greater understanding of the torment and agony I intend to inflict on you. With the understanding comes sorrow, because there is nil you can do about it. Your life has been placed into my hands, the unstable hands of a self destructed. I’ve recovered from the near fatal accident. My face is destroyed and gives me constant pain and agony. For that, I pass on this anger and resentment towards you. You may not have actually done anything to me directly, but it was people like you that created what is me. It was someone like you that caused my explosion. And it is you that will feel the first grapes of wrath]
Black, white, and flashes of random colors greet the eyes in an impressive display of colors. These colors quickly form into human like shapes and furniture items like chairs and the like. These people stand gathered around in looking as bandages and other cloth is pulled away from a table. A collective gasp is heard when bloody rags begin to be pulled away. A doctor turns away in disgust as well. A young looking woman in a doctor uniform asks a simple question.
Do you have the mask?
A near by man, young looking, not over 20, reaches into a brown paper bag and pulls out a black mask with a green design on it. The young woman bends over and slides the cloth over an unidentifiably mangled head, leaving the head in a much better looking state than the gored and bruised look the head was sporting.
His body may be ready, but is his mind?
He told me he wanted to do this, and I’ve never argued with him. He’s a very thick headed person..
The now masked man sits up on the table and feels at his new mask before climbing down and going to a near by mirror. He looks into the mirror and shrieks in fear. The man who produced the mask goes to him and grabs his arm, holding him up and stopping him from falling.
It must have been more shocking than he thought
He‘s not ready.. I know he‘s not ready..
He‘s going to do it. If he doesn‘t do it now, he never will…
The masked man leaves on his own will as the woman shakes her head in disbelief while a couple of other doctors shuffle papers and clamor in the background.
