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Welcome, welcome. I am glad that you took your time to have a look in this thread, and I assure you, it was not for naught. This is the place where I will post my written works, which are most of the time fantasy, and occasionally, possibly science fiction. I was thinking about coming around to participating in roleplaying soon also, but for now I guess some unfinished stories are in order. Enjoy!
This is the first one, which is a science fiction story in a postapocalyptic setting.
“Oh poor Wallace, it appears it was your time to die now..” The Sfikhin are a cruel race. They make their prey die, painfully. They are the hunters of the earth. They are the race. And so was the tale of the dead man called Wallace finished, killed in the hands of a Sfi whose name was Rafiel. The gunshot was only the trigger of the pain, Rafiel's cruel touch did the rest of the trick. He slowly proceeded to clean his weapon, while smiling happily. This was the most fun he had had in months, and he had gotten the prey for himself. He now ran a finger along the dead man's chest, and a stream of blood forced itself inside it and ran up his arm. “Thank you for the boost old man, I really needed it.” He then grabbed an empty can, and it withered and disintegrated in his hands.
The Touch of Death. It's not very well known among mortals, but we know the codes. Oh how joyful, when we found a function that let us use the fabrics of space and time. But it wasn't enough, we soon found that the codes crashed, and the inverted mass absorbed everything with vital energy. We're going to have to find a way to straighten out this mess, and fast..
The echoes rung through the dark building, and a creature lay on a steel floor with its ribcage exposed, the pointy ends of the bones leaning upwards so only the insides were seen. It was covered by a coat of red color, and the appearance of it was what humans would call monstrous. A wave of energy oozed out of its hollow chest while twisting and turning into a big whirlwind of colors. Men and women crawled out of their hiding places, and looked with contentment at what was happening. “It's shaping up rather nice, don't it?” A hat covered most of the face of the man speaking, and when taking it off, a face of a blonde, blue eyed man with short beard was revealed. “Yep Lexon, it's looking pretty decent now. We just need some more components. Just give me more time.” He cracked his neck slightly at the words, and chewed on a toothpick that was clamped in his mouth. “How long?” The woman that had brought up the discussion licked her lips and kept studying the twisting colors that flashed in front of her. “Couple of days. Nothing more Sfi.” Lexon squeezed his hands around the hat, and kept chewing on the toothpick more forcefully. “That will do, that will do.” He then turned around and exited the building.
We don't know much about what they are doing. They disappear as if they were covered by smoke. The ratty bastards, slipping through our fingers! ..we can't take it much longer. Soon they will exterminate us, like the filthy prey they believe us to be. I won't go that low. I will find a way to make them suffer, and die a death as rotten as the ones they make us go through. I have located their base. It's just a matter of time before I can hear their dying breaths, and stomp on their lying tongues. Just you wait and see.. just wait and see!
Cassandra sighed and dropped her shoulders, her gun now facing the ground. She was so tired. Tired of this mess. Things had changed so drastically, and now they were the ones to pay. But she had to care. Care about the faith, care about the things gone wrong. She just wanted to run away. “Let me help you with that..” A man dressed in thick, dark clothes emerged from behind the buildings of the deserted town. His eyes were pure red, with an intense gaze, and his hair was as black as night. His gun was tightly strapped to the side of his waist. Cassandra looked up, and saw the man in front of her. She just looked at him standing completely still, and the emptiness could be seen in her eyes, as desolate as the town itself. The words, she spat out of her mouth. “Sfikhin.” And with a swift move, the bullet shot through her forehead. What was left of the woman fell to the ground, with a quiet thud. Rafiel smiled calmly, looking at the dead body for a short moment and once again went through the routine of wiping his gun with a soft cloth. This was what was his little moment, and he didn't want any disturbance. When finished he traced his hand along her stomach, absorbing more blood and energy, just like before, but this one was stronger.
This is the first one, which is a science fiction story in a postapocalyptic setting.
“Oh poor Wallace, it appears it was your time to die now..” The Sfikhin are a cruel race. They make their prey die, painfully. They are the hunters of the earth. They are the race. And so was the tale of the dead man called Wallace finished, killed in the hands of a Sfi whose name was Rafiel. The gunshot was only the trigger of the pain, Rafiel's cruel touch did the rest of the trick. He slowly proceeded to clean his weapon, while smiling happily. This was the most fun he had had in months, and he had gotten the prey for himself. He now ran a finger along the dead man's chest, and a stream of blood forced itself inside it and ran up his arm. “Thank you for the boost old man, I really needed it.” He then grabbed an empty can, and it withered and disintegrated in his hands.
The Touch of Death. It's not very well known among mortals, but we know the codes. Oh how joyful, when we found a function that let us use the fabrics of space and time. But it wasn't enough, we soon found that the codes crashed, and the inverted mass absorbed everything with vital energy. We're going to have to find a way to straighten out this mess, and fast..
The echoes rung through the dark building, and a creature lay on a steel floor with its ribcage exposed, the pointy ends of the bones leaning upwards so only the insides were seen. It was covered by a coat of red color, and the appearance of it was what humans would call monstrous. A wave of energy oozed out of its hollow chest while twisting and turning into a big whirlwind of colors. Men and women crawled out of their hiding places, and looked with contentment at what was happening. “It's shaping up rather nice, don't it?” A hat covered most of the face of the man speaking, and when taking it off, a face of a blonde, blue eyed man with short beard was revealed. “Yep Lexon, it's looking pretty decent now. We just need some more components. Just give me more time.” He cracked his neck slightly at the words, and chewed on a toothpick that was clamped in his mouth. “How long?” The woman that had brought up the discussion licked her lips and kept studying the twisting colors that flashed in front of her. “Couple of days. Nothing more Sfi.” Lexon squeezed his hands around the hat, and kept chewing on the toothpick more forcefully. “That will do, that will do.” He then turned around and exited the building.
We don't know much about what they are doing. They disappear as if they were covered by smoke. The ratty bastards, slipping through our fingers! ..we can't take it much longer. Soon they will exterminate us, like the filthy prey they believe us to be. I won't go that low. I will find a way to make them suffer, and die a death as rotten as the ones they make us go through. I have located their base. It's just a matter of time before I can hear their dying breaths, and stomp on their lying tongues. Just you wait and see.. just wait and see!
Cassandra sighed and dropped her shoulders, her gun now facing the ground. She was so tired. Tired of this mess. Things had changed so drastically, and now they were the ones to pay. But she had to care. Care about the faith, care about the things gone wrong. She just wanted to run away. “Let me help you with that..” A man dressed in thick, dark clothes emerged from behind the buildings of the deserted town. His eyes were pure red, with an intense gaze, and his hair was as black as night. His gun was tightly strapped to the side of his waist. Cassandra looked up, and saw the man in front of her. She just looked at him standing completely still, and the emptiness could be seen in her eyes, as desolate as the town itself. The words, she spat out of her mouth. “Sfikhin.” And with a swift move, the bullet shot through her forehead. What was left of the woman fell to the ground, with a quiet thud. Rafiel smiled calmly, looking at the dead body for a short moment and once again went through the routine of wiping his gun with a soft cloth. This was what was his little moment, and he didn't want any disturbance. When finished he traced his hand along her stomach, absorbing more blood and energy, just like before, but this one was stronger.
