It's fear that forces people into despair. We don't fear anything, not a soul, so where do we meet our end? Hell if I know....
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Regards to Vescrutia
Sat May 02, 2009 7:53 pm by KAZZ

Let it be known, this village will (future wise)form an Alliance with the Chaos, and since we already have one with the Reality, we would be apart of Vescrutia. So posting on here will come to a stop, save for the fights that are still going, the missions that are still going, and talks.

Everything on this site by the way, will be on Vescrutia as well …

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 An Story In The Works....; "A Cry On Deaf Ears"

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Yuuri Andou
Disciple of Death
Disciple of Death

Number of posts : 78
Location : Wondering How Far I Will Fall Before Someone Saves Me....
Kekkei Genkai : Shapeshifter/Molecule Restructure
Registration date : 2009-03-20

PostSubject: An Story In The Works....; "A Cry On Deaf Ears"   Sat Mar 21, 2009 1:21 pm

Umm, Yeah.
I like to write alot, but I have a tendency NOT to finish what write.
Soi here's one of my currently unfinished stores.....

The door creaked as its rusty hinges swung open. The small dark room was filled with light. The small child, maybe only eleven, blinked as the light vanquished the dark veil. She focused her eyes on the two figures standing in the silhouette of the door. Her small body froze in fear. She could see them more clearly now that she had adjusted to the light. They were two older-aged men, observing her carefully from were they stood. One was tall and lanky, with brown hair slicked to his skull with an overdose of hair gel. His chocolate eyes shone with interest as he watched the small girl. The other was short and stout. His hair had almost disappeared at his age, so all he had was a small halo of gray running from ear to ear. His coal black eyes where framed by his thin-rimmed glasses. They each sported the white jacket of a scientist. They also sent a wave of fear over the poor eleven year old girl. She knew her they were. She knew they were evil. She shivered as the advanced towards her. She let out a yelp as the stout balding scientist picked her up from the grimy cell floor. He swung her painfully over his shoulder, and walked out of the dark room towards the blinding light of outside. The other man slammed the heavy titanium door behind them. The small girl struggled in the balding man’s grasp. His strong hold did not falter, and her efforts were only a waste of her energy. The scientists arrived at another door at the end of the long, winding hallway. The bald man easily swung the metal door open. His lanky friend watched over the short mans shoulder as the girl was tossed onto the stone floor. They locked her in, and walked away, entering the door beside it. It was a viewing room. There was a large one-sided mirror on one side of the room. It gave them a complete view of the little girl. She had not budged since they threw her in there. The two men sat down in the seats placed for them, right in front of the controls. The one-sided mirror was right in front of them. The brown-haired man took the microphone. “Stand up” he ordered. His low, rough voice echoed around the room, projected from the thousands of speakers embedded in the walls. The girl winced and covered her ears with her hands. The scientist smirked. “Wrong Choice, GQ164” he said, calling the girl by her branded number, tattooed onto her back, like all experiments in the lab. Every mutant had one. Along with a shock collar. The most common source of punishment. The girl screeched in pain as the bald man pressed a small button on the control panel. Her collar activated, shocking her with thousands of volts. It felt like her body was on fire. “Now, stand up” the man commanded her. She struggled to her feet, afraid of being shocked again. “Good” he cooed. “Now why don’t you show us your special features, sweetie?” he asked, fake kindness coating over his voice. The girl hesitated. “Do you want to be shocked again?” he asked her, his voice hard. She flinched. No, she didn’t. She’d do anything to avoid the pain. Anything. The girl hesitated before placing her hands timidly on the ground. An ear-splitting yowl escaped from her throat. It was inhuman. Yet, that was exactly what she was. An ominous smile appeared across the bald mans face. This was the deciding moment. His attention spiked when she let out another yowl. Yes. Now was the time. The small girls face was twisted in a mask of horror. Her lips were curled up over her teeth. Her teeth had become pointed, razor-sharp. The whites of her eyes were coal black, her pupils narrowed into purple crimson slits. Her raven hair was flying everywhere, yet there was no wind in the enclosed room. Her porcelain skin was stretch over her thin bones. Her nails had grown to the point where they appeared to be claws. Her small body was soon covered in thick orange and black fur. The girl was no longer in the small room the scientists watched. In her place was a vicious adult-sized tiger. The tall scientist grinned. He once again spoke into the microphone. “Very well done. Now we have to run a couple tests…” . The feline screeches echoed through the lab until early morning.

Chapter One

I sighed as flame-red locks of hair fell down in front of my ocean-blue eyes. My hair had started to grow long again, and it was really bugging me. I slouched in the uncomfortable plastic seat, tapping my foot impatiently. The desert heat made my tan skin stick to the chair, making it even more unappealing. I sucked in a breath of dry air. “Phoenix Merlyn?” the clerk called timidly, her voice so high it squeaked. I stood up, my body hunched over in a slump from sitting in that dang chair for so long. “Yes” I answered, raising my hand in greeting as I walked across the tile to where she stood. Her blond curls were messy and unkempt, and she sported a large pair of glasses. Something about her appearance screamed out, ‘Geek! Geek!’ She glanced up at me from under her glasses. “They’re ready to see you now, miss”. I nodded. “Which room, lady?” I asked, my gaze shifting to the two doors that loomed in front of me. The clerk pointed at the door on the left. “In there, miss” she smiled nervously. I adjusted the cameo hat on my head, and returned the smile. “Thanks, lady”. I turned the doorknob, and the door screeched in protest as I opened it. I walked in, closing the door behind me. In front of me was a large oak desk. Sitting behind it was an old man, his hair white and balding with age. Beside him sat a boy who looked to be his son. He had a youthful face that was ruined it because it seemed to be twisted in a grimace. His black hair was cropped short, and his dark eyes bore into me. I flinched. ‘What a weird kid’ I thought. I snapped up my hand in salute. “Sir” I say. The older man stands up, saluting in return.The boy looked ticked.
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An Story In The Works....; "A Cry On Deaf Ears"
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