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Audio_Rehiko Vice Captain
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 Posted: Wed Oct 22, 2008 1:16 pm
Please post all entries for the Story Contest here and -only- the entries. Anyone who asks questions or posts idle chatter here will be DQed from the contest (cause it means you didn't read the rules)
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Posted: Fri Oct 24, 2008 11:09 pm
Entry Form
Your Name: AmaryIIis
Audio's name: Dreizehn
Song: Broken
Entry:
Dreizehn looked at his reflection, staring back at him from the deep pools of his dwelling. He gently touched the horns atop his head, glowering back at his own yellow-eyed gaze. He didn't used to be like this. He didn't used to be a monster. They'd made him. They'd made him who...what he was.
He'd been concieved All Hallows Eve, on the witching hour. No one ever really forgot that. He used to try to hide it, you know, before. Before all of the whispers behind closed doors, people behind closed hearts had gotten to him. Before, bit by bit, his anger started showing through the cracks of his longing to be normal. Those around him said only that blood always tells, that they knew this was what he was really like.
But how did they know? The demon growled, savagely shattering his serene image in the water with a clawed paw. They'd never given him a chance. Never given him a chance to be anything other than a demon even demons distained and feared. A beast of the night. He'd never escape.
It seemed now that it had happened all at once, the time between before and now, but he knew that it hadn't. He knew that it had been done bit by painful bit, day by lonesome day as he'd been pushed further and further from 'civilized' society. His only release was painstaking hours spent carving, burning, dying his feelings into his bloodred fur that caused even more talk--words like "insane" and "unsafe" were used, each like a thrown knife, leaving him to bleed from wounds he'd thought were long since closed. Broken was the one he used usually. Broken heart, broken mind.Broken.
What was left for him to do but withdraw deep into himself? He was his only companion, his only friend. Surely no one would miss him; hell, they'd probably celebrate that he'd finally admitted defeat and removed himself from them. He'd moved to the forests, and then to the mountains, the only place where he didn't feel like he was rejected. But he didn't feel at home. Never. There was no place for someone....something like him.
But he didn't used to be like this. He didn't used to be a monster. They'd made him. With their neglect and their words they'd bred in him feelings of hate and anger, like a fire that would never be extenguished now that it had been fed for so long. A keening wail lifted into the night, shifting into an furious howl.
It was the witching hour again.
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Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 1:26 pm
Entry FormYour Name: Reeshie Hack Audio's name: Carreau Song: The Hand That Feeds Entry: Corruption. Deception. Pain. Fear. Soulless.
The birds chirped merrily as a white Audio male sat beneath a shady tree on a calm spring afternoon, a pad of paper upon his knees and a charcoal stick in his left paw.
"Turn your head just a bit to the left, there, stop," he chuckled as the lounging female before him smiled. She was so beautiful, his Empusa, so beautiful that he really wondered why she was with him. He was a freak, nearly all white but for faint blue runes on his arms and legs, his eyes blind-like in appearance, and he was born with the wings of a bird. One might have thought wings a blessing, but they were unusual and nothing more than a mutation. But she was with him, and he loved her dearly.
***
"I don't think we should do this..."
"There's nothing to be afraid of! Don't you love me?" Empusa asked as she looked back to him, a small pout on her beautiful features. He sighed and nodded, even though he was fairly certain that no matter how hard she tried to spin it, what she wanted him to do was wrong. But he loved her, would do anything for her, even steal for her, as she now wanted.
As the weeks past, though, he became more comfortable in this new way of living. He could lie, steal, cheat, as long as it was for her. All for her.
He might even kill for her.
***
The rain poured down upon the shivering form of a once happy, love-struck artist, his paws bloodied from the sin he had committed in her name. He had become her slave, her toy, and now he was damned.
He cowered at the feet of a creature he had never known, the creature that had lure him from his bright, good world into the darkness. Empusa, a being from his nightmares, laughed at him as she held his headphones, cuddled up against her shadow-cloaked master's side.
"Did you honestly think I could love you? A freak? My heart is for my master alone! And now your soul is tainted. Don't you want what my master can give you?" she asked, her voice a serpent's hiss as a soft laugh came from the creature he dare not look upon. He shuddered as Empusa leaned down and replaced the headphones on his ears. But his song, the one he had known so well since before life began, was gone. And this new one sent pain and anger and fear down his spine. But most of all pain.
"Carreau..."
***
And so it was that the angel fell. Gone was he from the world he once knew, of arts and laughter and happiness. He grew cold, distant, and when confronted aggressive. But most of all, he hated females and love.
Carreau. That was my new name.
It fits, I guess. In a sense I am a fallen angel. No... not fallen, pulled down by a female. I can feel it, my heart hardening as if it was turning to stone in my chest. Maybe it really was, maybe not.
From this day, I vow to save the others in this world, to help them harden their hearts against temptation, so that no one else has to suffer as I did.
I'll never trust again.
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Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 1:43 pm
Entry Form
Your Name: Kitsu_is_EPIC_FAIL
Audio's name: Kharsth
Song: Burn (Three Days Grace)
Entry:Snowing again. He hated snow... so white, so pure. It only served to remind him of how flawed he was and how much he hated that the creatures that rolled about happily in it were less burdened than he.
It hadn't always been thus - there had been a time when he would have been one of those, joyous at the season and laughing in jubilation at the sensation of the cold wet stuff. Not anymore. Never again since he died. Since he died, he'd become an empty shell, devoid of the warmth that would have saved him from the cold of the season.
The snow was like his heart, falling to the deepest depth that it could and becoming enmired in the chaos that was the flurries on the ground. Ice ran through his viens as he thought again of how Milean's blood had stained the snow that day, scattering rubies all about and dashing his sanity with them.
He shook his head. No - musn't think of that. Musn't think of blood. But it was too late. The tantalizing thought of the sanguine fluid filled his mind, his body twitching just a little with desire. Today he would hunt...
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Posted: Mon Oct 27, 2008 7:25 pm
Entry Form
Your Name: leon_a_darkangel
Audio's name: Aniketos
Song: Amendments To A Sick Art by Syx
Entry:
They say that life is all one big happy love fest. That love conjures all, and everyone was meant to be. You know, all that hallmark bullshit they spout endlessly year 'round. What about the tale of withered love, and broken promises? Of empty dreams and eternal hell for the condemned? Don't let them fool you, everyone has their story and all the b.s that follows suit. Yeah, that's what I thought. No one wants to see reality for what it is, cold, twisted and blackened. No one gives a damn, even at the bitter end.
It was then that his laugh rolled forth. His sneer reveling rather dangerous set of fangs. It went without saying, they were fully capable of shredding something to the bone. The very sound of his morbid merritt sniged the very air. Gods..it was malice made sound. I couldn't help cringing, it chilled me to to the bone. There was something about his aura. It was just as twisted as his thoughts.he said quietly, stretching crimson wings lined by ebony. He stared at the sky, cracking his neck. After a moment of this, he examined his claws, flexing them.
Foolishly I said the first thing that came to mind. "Wh...what happened to make you like this?"
Eyes that burned like the hell forges rounded on me at the question, almost like he'd kill simply for having ask. Oh, did I want to crawl into a hole and die. He got up then, stretching his arms out, glaring down at me with that same wicked sneer. "I am he who would not die." He hissed, voice dropping an octave. "I killed without thought, and took what ever -I- pleased. All until that brat came along." he turned then stalking away as he made his way to the edge. He halted at it. "I had everything, until his little friend gave him ideas." He stared back at him. "Fool, he thought he'd finished me for good." So close to the edge, he stared down. "To bad hm?" He let himself fall then, only pulling back at the last second taking flight. "Come this Samhain night," The sound of wing beats echoed, just as his words did. "I shall have -everything- I had, once more." He would be the one, to set the world a light. Tp burn all who crossed path in a sea of memories turned into a grim fairy tale. To bad this one, was a living breathing nightmare.
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Posted: Wed Oct 29, 2008 7:47 pm
Entry Form
Your Name: Teh Zan
Audio's name: Caesius
Song: Divine Hate (from Devil May Cry 3)
Entry:
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Time carves intricate sigils of life and death upon one's own heart and skin. The world can know nothing save for what it's shown. Burning flames trigger secrets of the soul, secrets so dark and private that they might bring about the world's destruction with their nuisances. Good is perhaps a rarity in this world, in these hearts, but more often than not, it is found only to be eclipsed within the shadow of evil intent. These shadows lead to nothing but anguish and pain. Innocent souls end up battered and shredded with the weight of such a demonic burden. A weight I bear with shame. Time will not heal all wounds, instead, it will corrupt and rot them. Festering in the heart and growing stronger every day, the burden will overbear the innocent, and tragedy will befall the good. There is no such thing as beauty.
This is the way the world is. It is the way the world is meant to be. It is the most honest truth the world knows.
And me? Who am I? I will tell you; my name is Caesius, and I have lived this hell. Every step I take burns another hole into my already torn soul. You will never understand this burden. Who are you to ask things of me? You know naught of me! Will you ask more petty questions? Will you torture me further than you already have? I understand your mindset. I understand you. You are not me. You are the one who calls this world good and pure. You see only beautiful things behind those rose-tinted glasses.
My life is not so wonderful.
No. That's a lie. It was. Past tense. It had been filled with stereotypical happiness. Memories that seem fabricated to me now-- hazy, and covered in a sickly sweet aroma that pales in comparison to the filth I breathe now, as well as with the molten lava that runs through my veins. From within the deepest realm of my dreams, I remember the music that flooded my life. I remember the unearthly feeling of being uplifted. I remember all this and so much more. There was another back then. Another with me. Lost to me now, but so close back then. His song seemed to compliment mine perfectly. My perfect companion. My best friend. The only in the world to always stand by my side in harmony through thick and thin. Together we were an arrangement fit for royalty. But only together. Despite desperate efforts, it would not last.
The last pure memory I have was one that turned brutal and fierce. It was the bubbling and boiling hate that ravaged my heart for my crimes, the crime of lonely desperation. Instead of me, instead of the one with whom he had fit perfectly, he chose another. A lover. A lover to intrude upon our duo and to corrupt his soul with charm and poise. It was this hate that separated us. Separated me from him and his kindness. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he lived. Every breath he took was another miracle in the world, until her. The pain that convulses within me because of them... if only the memory would fade. If only the pain hadn't been so real. Wasn't still so real.
This broken heart I'm left with and the impossible betrayal I endured... you will never understand the life I live. Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour... day by day by week by month. All of time wraps into each other, obscuring the next and blurring it to oblivion. Every scar I inflict upon my horrid body. Every drop of blood I bleed. I bleed for him. If I could... if I could just forget... maybe it would end. Maybe the pain in my heart would stop. My heart could beat gently again, instead of the pounding drum it has become. It could whisper sweet nothings and constrict the soul with a terrifying indulgence.
It will never be. It can never be... Leave me now. I'll never forget him. With every wound I carve, with every breath I take, I only enslave myself to him more. I enslave myself to the way I hate him. To the way I love him. To the disgusting beast I have become. You must leave now, lest I taint you too. Lest this bitterness of mine becomes the sweet embrace of your death. How much red will I cover my hands in until this hatred dies? How many times will I howl and hope it is enough?
The music is no longer enough to soothe my soul. Instead, it has become the bane of my existence, the strings tugging at my marionette heart. It is everything and nothing. It is my addiction. It is my death sentence. It is you, and me, and all the world! Perhaps... if I'm lucky, it will kill me someday. Farewell my friend.
Or perhaps... my foe?
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