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 Making your mark is important.

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Alpha/Omega
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PostSubject: Making your mark is important.   Thu Aug 16, 2007 4:47 am

Prepare for trouble!
Make it double!
To protect the world from devastation
To unite all peoples within our nation
To denounce the evils of truth and love
To extend our reach to the stars above
Jessie!
James!
Team Rocket, blast off at the speed of light!
Surrender now, or prepare to fight!
Meowth, dat's right!

“Ah team rocket….soon you’ll be blastin off again, far into de blue till yer nothing but a speck in de sky”
He shook his head as he got up from his lounge chair. The cushion had long since formed to his butt and was in dire need of replacing. He walked over to the fridge and took a look inside. An opened can of beans dating back to the Egyptian era, a six pack of beer(all empty), a stick of butter and a jar of pimentos. With a sigh he closed the fridge door, plunging him into near darkness, the glow of the television being the only source of light.
“I dunno why I still watch dis toon. It ain’t even good. But dat team rocket cracks me up. But I guess iss like life eh? Ya do something till yer dead, den your just a speck in de sky.

A moment passed as he stared at the wall. It looked almost alive with grime.

"I should write dat down.”

The kitchen table was a complete disaster to look at. Documents, dishes and food were strewn about across its surface making it impossible to tell what the tabletop actually looked like. He found what he was looking for; a pen and a piece of paper. He scribbled his note with about the same skill he had displayed when speaking it. Holding his work up he read it over a second time, smiling. He was pretty proud of that, like it was his legacy or something.

That was about the time I decided to make my presence known.
“You look filled with sinful pride. Did you sign your work?”
“Eh? Whodat?”
I was hidden in the shadow. Very well hidden. His eyes looked straight at me but he could still not see my form.

“It matters little, as you are nothing more than a meal to me, but I’m a gracious guest and will answer you. My name is Reed.”

“Screw you budday! Imma kick yer ass!”

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t heard that before but that line always brought me great amusement. I like giving my meals a shred of hope, so I then emerged from the shadows.

“By all means, bloodbag”

This really riled him.

“You sunuvabich!” He said as he raised his fist over his head.
To my surprise he was holding a knife; the blade almost glowed as it reflected the light from the television.
“Sneaky”, I thought to myself. “But otherwise worthless.” I watched as the man raced towards me making a stabbing action with his arm. I was brought back to my childhood, playing with action figures that had “Swinging Arm Action!” or something of the sort. I cracked a smile as he came near. He swung the knife at me with the grace of a walrus in the Sahara. I sighed as I dodge to the left. His knife got stuck in the wall. He turned his head towards me with eyes filled with fear.
Oooh, this is the best part. The raw fear. It makes the dinner all the sweeter.
I sensed he was going to yell, so I had to act fast. I rammed an old sock into his mouth which I kept on me for such occasions. It was pretty crusty at this point though. I should really consider washing it sometime soon. His muffle scream barely reached my ears. I let him watch as I opened my mouth and showed him my fangs. He tried to scream again but it didn’t do him much good. It also wasn’t nearly as panicked as the first one. He hasn’t realized it yet, but his brain knew that he was done for. His mind was already preparing him for the inevitable. Showing him the best parts of his life, all of his success. I don’t think it was a very long film.
With a quick flick of my wrist, I spun him about until his back was pressed against my chest. I sunk my teeth into his neck and started to drink the delicious vitae that flowed. I did this at just the right time too. All the fear was still there along with a bit of happiness from reliving the best moments of his life. That combination of fear and joy REALLY makes a difference to the blood connoisseur.
I have a refined pallet don’t you know.

His body went limp, his system shut down. He was slowly dying from blood loss.

I walked over to the table and found his little scrap of paper. He hadn’t signed it. I could find his wallet, I suppose, and credit his name to the quote.

I’ll likely drop it off at the newspaper; maybe they’ll print it for whatever reason. Maybe they won’t. It’s the least I can do.

“Ya do something till yer dead, den your just a speck in de sky.” – Anonymous.
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Alexandra
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Wed Aug 22, 2007 4:32 am

Okay, I have to say, I don't know what's funnier, that you used Pokemon in a killer vampire story, or that you know the entire Team Rocket speech.
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Thu Aug 23, 2007 2:41 am

No need to choose. They are both awesomely funny

XD

lol!

ps - OMG....the first actual reply to someone's story. Nice job!
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Thu Aug 23, 2007 2:43 am

I'll tell the truth..i know most of the team rocket speech, I googled the rest. Smile
Glad you enjoyed. Smile
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khan
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Thu Aug 23, 2007 4:24 pm

I can't belive you forgot one line, before meowth says dats right you hear wobbafet say it's name, or then you get chyme say chime, what Jessie trades wabbafet
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Fri Aug 24, 2007 1:29 am

No, the episode in question was pre-wobafet.
Thus no line was forgotten, but that you for your attention to detail.
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Fri Aug 24, 2007 1:35 am

lol! no problem
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Mon Sep 03, 2007 5:24 am

Part More.

A chilling breeze brushed across me as I walked away from the newspaper publisher. At least, I think it was chilling. I haven’t felt anything colder than my body in over 50 years.
I watched as a couple held each other when the wind picked up, blowing the hat off his head. He broke away from her to chase after it, leaving her all alone.

Had it been another night, I would have seized that golden opportunity; to both feed and ruin someone else’s life. But my tummy was full; there was no point in over indulging.
One of the few good lessons my sire taught me. “Yae dun be wantin’ tae binge thar laddie. Make sure thars enuuf tae last ye th’week!”

A good lesson, yes. And while overindulging IS a sin, drinking week old blood from the same vessel is disgusting. My sire didn’t have the luxury of being in a large city. He had to pick and choose his food carefully. He would often go after the larger folk; those of rotund build and extreme flab. “A lot’o th’blood hides in th’fat n’ th’grissle!”
I shudder just thinking about it. Still, he was able to survive in a small hamlet of a town for many years without detection or suspicion. He carefully chose people who had few friends or well known health problems.
Had he not been cursed, things would have been simpler. You see most of our kind can drink a little bit from a mortal, take a small sample of blood, lick the wound and send them on their way. They more often forget the ordeal. Those who do remember it have memories of a foggy sexual encounter.

My sire and I had an additional curse. Our bite will kill those we feed on. I couldn’t tell you the science behind it; frankly I’m not interested. The simple fact is when we bite someone for food, they die. Having to kill each prey makes it hard to survive in a small town undetected. That was where my sires brilliance came in. He fashioned a way to keep the corpse warm enough to prevent the blood from coagulating for about a weeks time. Any longer and the blood would solidify from non-movement.
It was, however, no less disgusting than it sounds. Stale blood, blood that is un-moving, blood that is from a corpse is also blood that is without emotion. And I DO love emotion in my blood.


But I’ve let my mind wander away. For now the young girl is wondering where her beau went. “Why has he not returned? “, I’m sure she’s thinking to herself. He has taken his time. I wonder if some other fate has befallen him. Maybe…maybe I’ll just go over to her and see, see what’s going on.
I’m not bound by the same rules as my sire; there’s an abundance of people here. From the filthy rich to the filthier poor; people in this city come from all walks of life and many of them are alone. Lonely people make for better prey as there’s no worries of a vengeful lover or a psychopathic daughter hunting you down.
Still, every now and again it’s nice to spice things up with a little action.
She didn’t notice me as I stood behind her, watching her look down the road, eager for the return of her lover.
A faint smell of perfume wafted over my nose. Channel No. 5? My, an expensive brand she’s wearing. She sighed as she shifted from one foot to the other. “Randy? Randy where are you? This isn’t funny.”
I wanted to say something, something that would make her scream. Something like the vampires in the movies would say.

But all I could think of was “Good evening”, so I stayed quiet.

I could smell her fear even over the expensive perfume. She had a million thoughts running through her mind, all of which ended in the demise of her lover. But at this point, she had no thoughts of self preservation. “I’m perfectly safe on the well lit road”, I’m sure she thought.

A distant clang caught her attention and she snapped her neck in its direction. “I found it!” a male voice called out, again, distant. “The wind threw it up over a roof and into this alley. I’ll be right out.”
Excellent, I thought to myself. The foolish girl still hasn’t sensed my presence. She’s likely still too worried about her…Oh, what’s this? Her body has tensed up even more. Her shoulders are creeping towards her ears; her breath is a little staggered. Oh she KNOWS I’m here now. Time to act!

She slowly started to turn around and I allowed her that. As I could see in the distance her lover stumble out of the alley, I looked at him with an evil grin on my face.
She faced me at that point and inhaled sharply, ready to scream. I placed my hand over her mouth and caught the offending sound.

“Hey!” her lover yelled, “You get away from her!!” and he started to run towards me. Oh my, I thought. I’m in an opened street, lights on every corner. There is no way that I can outrun him with his bitch struggling in my arms; he’s sure to catch up on foot.
And it’s not like I can grow wings and fly…can I?

Don’t be stupid, of course I can’t fly. But I can jump a fair distance. He continued to run towards me as I bent my knees and performed a deep squat. She struggled but her strength was no match for mine. It was like licorice struggling against steel.
I wanted him to hope he could catch me so I waited until he was practically on top of me. He leapt forward in a pathetic attempt to spear tackle me. This is when I leapt upwards onto a nearby three story building.

He landed in a nearby puddle and emerged covered in mud. I laughed from the rooftop and my it echoed throughout the area. By the time he recovered and looked up, I was gone.
But now, now I have a hostage, at least until tomorrow night when it comes time to eat. Then I’ll have another corpse, ooooh, and a very nice evening gown. Not sure what I’ll do with that but I’m sure to find a use. Silly fools. They should have taken a cab. Don’t they know what dangers lurk in the night?


Last edited by on Mon Sep 03, 2007 6:12 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Mon Sep 03, 2007 6:08 am

I really like this guy. He's fleshed out, he's funny....and he's a bastard to boot. Good job. I hope you plan to give us more about him if the mood takes you.

And I'm here to help for any proofreading if you want it again ^_^

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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Mon Sep 17, 2007 5:33 am

Part the Third.

The name “Belleview” is synonymous with the word asylum anywhere in North America. If you say you’re going to call “The Boys from Belleview” or you want to bring Belleview’s finest in on this, chances are you’re talking about a house for crazy people.
My Belleview is called “Algoma”. I really like the sound of Belleview better. Granted, Arkum is probably the best name for an asylum…but I digress.

Algoma is a great place because you can deposit crazy people there. At least, people who others think have gone crazy.
Take this woman, for example. She’s a Jane Doe who’s been living on the streets as a prostitute. Her ‘friends’, and I’m using sarcasm quotes here, called me because she’s been spouting things about seeing vampires and other creatures of the night. She’s also been cutting herself around the neck and inner thigh, claming those locations as feeding spots for the vampires.
At least, that’s the story I’m going to give my associates at Algoma. You see, I’m a doctor there, nightshift only of course.

Working with the mentally instable has its advantages. First of all, any sort of inflicted damage is self inflicted. This allows me to get rough with them when they become…annoying. Also, any stories they try and tell others are the stories of crazy people, and no one believes them. For me it means that I can scare the hell out of an otherwise healthy human, drag him down to the hospital, have him spout things of vampires and then have him committed. This, of course, gives me a nice and steady supply of blood.

This is me thinking for the future. The other night, with that obese gentleman, that was fulfilling a want rather than a need. I didn’t need blood that night, I wanted it. And it had to be served in a specific way.

Again, I’m straying from the matter at hand. Now I have to take this drugged woman, whom I’ve dressed in some old street clothes, and bring her into the hospital and have her ‘take up residency’ as it were.

The parking lot is virtually empty. I see 3 cars sitting there. One of which is Stan’s. Stan is our nighttime security guard. Nice guy but easily bought. Twenty bucks’ll get you just about anywhere in the building, off limits or not. An extra ten and he’ll avert his eyes while you procure some ‘medicine’.

Ok. I’m using the sarcastic quotes way too often tonight. Anyway, I pull into a spot close to the building and shut the engine off. I sprint around the car to the passenger door and open it fully. I remove the seatbelt holding the woman up and notice that a pool of drool has formed in her cleavage. Not a pretty sight. “Jane…Jane??” I say in a sweet voice. The woman looks in my direction but he focus is far past me. “It’s time to go inside Jane. It’ll be nice and warm there.” I take her wrist and gently pull her from the car. She gets up as best as she can; the drugs have really impaired her. We slowly walk to the door while under my breath I thank the architects that they did not put any stairs here. We get to the door and I flag Stan.
“Whoooo, wa-daya got here, m’boy?” Stan was only 40, but everyone was his boy…even the girls.
“Hi Stan, this is Jane Doe. She’s crazy.”
“Looks that way donnit? She a cutter too huh?” She had some visible scares on her neck.
I nodded. “Yes, she is. I’ll have to lock her down in a bed until I can properly diagnose her.”
“So, how-dyu come about this one?” he questioned.
“Oh, you know. The vagrants of the community know that I’ve got a generous heart and that I do my best to help those in need”, I said, lying through my teeth.
“Yah, that you got is a heart’a gold. I jus’ wonner out you can afford all of ‘em?”
“Oh, it’s not too tough, Stan. A lot of it is out of pocket, but I do get some government support. Could we maybe talk about this when I don’t have a patient hanging from my shoulder?” I shifted a bit to make it look like her weight was cumbersome.
“Oh yah, sorry there Mr. Hawker. Come on in.”

Stan held the door opened for me as I walked in. The hospital was, like most hospitals, very static in appearance. The walls were all white and had no art hanging from them. The floor was a dull steel grey, tiled. In the distance I could hear the tick-ticking of wheels passing over the tiles and I knew that Stan had called for a gurney. Within seconds, two orderlies rounded the corner with a fabulous bed on wheels complete with bondage gear.
“Good evening boys. Strap this one in and bring her to room 1202. Am I right to assume it’s still unoccupied?”
One of the men looks to the other and shrugs. The second looks to me and says “Not sure sir, but if it is, we’ll make sure to let you know where we put her.”
“Thank you gentlemen, just try to keep all my patients together. I appreciate that”
“No problem sir.”
They strap the young woman into the bed and wheel her off as I depart for my office.

A key unlocks the deadbolt of my door. Light from the corridor spills in blocked only by my body which causes a long shadow to appear on the floor of my office. I step inside and turn on the light to the left of the door. The light is very soft and dim giving just enough light to move around without bumping into things. Mmmm, ambiance. I close the door and lock it behind me.
My desk is the epitome of neatness. Files and papers I’ve yet to deal with are filed in order of priority in my “In” box. Once I am done with them, they are placed in my “Out” box and picked up by an orderly in the early morning.
My desktop has a blotter, a pen and inkwell (I don’t like ball point pens), a pad of paper and a placard with my name on it. It holds no gaudy gadgets, no useless junk or family memorabilia. Everything on my desk is functional.
The right hand drawers, which always remain locked, contain my personal supply of drugs that I use during sessions. In a place like this, it’s far more convenient to use drugs to affect a mortals mind than it is to use powers.
The left hand drawers, which incidentally are never locked, contain all the forms I need to get whatever I need in this place. Paperwork; no matter where you go you can’t escape it.

I open the top left drawer and start filling out the paperwork for my new Jane Doe. Paranoid schizophrenic, bleeder, possible Renfield’s syndrome. I prescribe some much needed drugs to keep her sedated and calm. We don’t want her to give vital information away, like her real name and any sort of phone number, now do we?
Next form will be for the government to help with the costs incurred with taking in a patient like this. There is a good chance they will grant me the money because I have a good record of turning these people around.
I suppose it helps that they weren’t really crazy to begin with; that the cocktail of drugs I give them keep them in the crazy state I need them in so I can keep them inside.
But after a good 2 years of treatment they make a miraculous recovery and are allowed back in the wild to re-integrate themselves with society.
Right, that reminds me. I’ll have to call my friends in the newsroom, make sure that pictures of this girl don’t circulate. A bit more money out of pocket, but believe me, it beats starving. I wonder how her boyfriend is doing? Maybe I’ll hang around downtown tomorrow in hopes to run into him again. That might be interesting…
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Mon Sep 17, 2007 6:54 am

Once again I really enjoyed the excerpt from Mr. Hawker's (un)life. Very imaginative and very funny. I demand more when the mood strikes you

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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Thu Oct 11, 2007 7:49 am

I wrote this a bit quicker than the rest so i apologize if it's not as good as the previous posts.
enjoy!

“Wakey wakey! Eggs and bakey!” , I said in my most cheerful tone.
It was a lie. I had neither eggs nor bacon and I didn’t feel cheerful in the least.
Not that I’m normally a grumpy person, I just had no particular reason to be cheerful today.
Jane Doe was still strapped to the bed. It had been about two days since I brought her into my little hospital. She was adjusting well, mainly due to the heavy narcotics that constantly flowed through her veins. But tonight will be different.
Why?
Because I’m hungry. And you know how much I like to have a bit of feeling with my meals, right?
I think tonight will be a bit of fear and despair. Then maybe I’ll hunt for some vengeance and anger. My mouth would salivate if I were capable of such a function.
I pulled out a needle and injected Mrs. Doe with it. The nice thing about drugs and toxins is that there is usually some sort of anti-toxin. This little cocktail of mine should bring her to consciousness in a few minutes.
She began to stir almost immediately. She forced her eyes open but it was very apparent they wanted to stay shut. They practically rolled to the back of her head. She then tried to bring her hand to her forehead. The restraints prevented her from doing that. It took a few seconds, and tugs, before the reality set in. She was a prisoner.
“Where the hell am I?” she screamed.
“Shhhh, Jane, Jane. You’re in the hospital.”
“Hospital? This doesn’t look like any hospital I know of! And my name isn’t Jane!” Her eyes were wildly scanning the room; she hadn’t quite set them upon me yet.
“Jane. I need you to calm down, focus and look at me.” I squirmed a bit in my seat because I knew what was coming next. She did as I asked. She took a deep breath and started to focus on me. Her big brown eyes widened quickly when she realized who I was. “You!” She doubled her efforts of freeing herself, but it was in vain.
“Me. Yes. Quite perspicacious of you. Any other gems of wisdom you have hidden in that pretty cranium of yours?”
“Let me out of here you freak! You can’t keep me here!!”
I sighed. They always assumed they knew, well, everything. I retrieved a rather menacing looking blade from my medical bag. I liked my medical bag. It was one of those really old ones, from the frontier days; all leather with two handles that you use to open the top of the bag. The blade I pulled out was almost saw like; something you might think would be used to cut open a head.
“Let me explain something to you, Mrs Doe. I am the head doctor of this facility and everyone herein believes that you are a crazy cutter. No one knows you are in here, and no one will ever find out. You’re boyfriend-“
“Fiancee!” she interjected with tears rolling from her eyes. Mmmm, I was waiting for those.
“Fiancee…yes. Well, he doesn’t know where you are either. I had a friend of mine speak to him, and it seems he’s not that interested in finding you. Something about another woman he was looking to pursue.”
She went into a full out sob. “Y…You’re lying…”
“Now what would I have to gain from lying? Jane, Jane, Jane. Just keep thinking those thoughts about how your husband to be has abandoned you for some younger and probably more attractive woman while I work my magic.”
She was so upset she could barely speak. I knew it was the time to feast!
Oh and feast I did! I can’t describe how delicious a treat it was. Feelings that strong are rare in this day and age. Oh she was madly in love with this boy. I knew I had plenty of work ahead of me in breaking this girl’s spirit. But in the meantime, I get some damn tasty blood.

It wasn’t long before Jane was all drugged up again, unable to speak but completely aware of her surroundings.
Because she’s a known cutter, she has to stay strapped into her bed.
All she would have are her thoughts and imagination; fueled by my lies of course.
This week was getting better and better.
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PostSubject: Re: Making your mark is important.   Sun Oct 21, 2007 10:53 pm

mean mean mean mean.

heh. Again, I loved the read. Your way with certain phrases kept egging me on (No pun intended...>_< ) to read more. Very good

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