Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
And lo, NIGHT did fall...
Please do not post again until Day has returned.
Please do not post again until Day has returned.
"You've all been selected for this mission because you each have a special skill. Professor Hawking, John Leslie, Phil Neville, the Wu-Tang Clan, Usher, the Sugar Puffs Monster and Daniel Day-Lewis! Welcome to Operation MindFuck!"
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
The townspeople dispersed, wandering back to their homes as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Many were nervous, though some were confident in their own abilities to defend themselves. As dusk turned slowly into night, the sound of hammering filled the air as people franticaly tried to board up their doors and windows, hoping their defences to be enough to assure their survival until the morning.
* * *
The night was cold, and the wind whistled through the town. In every house people sat awake, huddled in whatever part of the house they deemed safest, clutching whatever weapons they had been able to fashion. Some had just begun to drift off to sleep when the howling began...
* * *
The townspeople sat still, frozen with fear as the sounds of movement and sniffing became audible. Many doused whatever lights they still had on, hoping to hide themselves in the darkness. Growls and the occasional sound of claws scratching on the wooden frames of houses approached and left each building in turn, the occupants breathing a sign of relief once the sounds had receeded.
In the small room above the cobbler's shop Lazar sat awake, clutching the sharp knife he used for cutting leather, staring intently at the door leading downstairs. He could hear them now; snuffling and scratching at the front door he had hastily boarded up. Suddenly, there as a loud wooden crash as the door was smashed down.
With a yelp of fear, Lazar jumped out of his bed and rushed to the bedroom door, locking it quickly as the sound of paws on the stairs became louder. Franticaly he began piling whatever pieces of furniture he could move in front of the door. Lastly, he tipped the large wardrobe that had been in his family for generations over on top of the pile, just as the monsters reached the landing and slammed into the door at full force.
The door barely moved, for which Lazar breathed a sigh of relief. But the werewolf outside slammed into it again, and again. The sound of wood cracking sounded unnaturaly loud to the cobbler's ears.
Lazar looked around the room franticaly, looking for anything he could use. His eye fell on the window. He hadn't boarded it up, thinking it too high for the creatures to get in through. He rushed over to it and shoved it open, looking out of it for any sign of help. There, he thought, the court-house! He looked down at the ground dubiously. Could he survive the fall?
The werewolf outside slammed into the door again, smashing it in half though still prevented from entering by the mass of furniture blocking the entrance. Lazar looked around, and nearly died of fright.
There were two of them, their fur grey and shaggy. Two pairs of wicked golden eyes glared at him hatefully. The one in front growled at him, displaying rows of sharp teeth.
Without a second's more hesitation, Lazar jumped.
He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from him by the jump. By a miracle, he hadn't broken anything. He staggered to his feet, and began running for the courthouse, where Nick could help him.
The third werewolf - the pack leader - watched him run from the roof of the cobbler's shop. It had sent the other two in and waited there itself in case just such an occurance happened. With a snarl, it lept from the roof nimbly and bounded after him.
The pack-leader caught up with the cobbler just as the man reached the courthouse door. It slammed into him from behind at full force, breaking his spine and smashing the man into the large doors which gave way beneath the impact, breaking inwards. Lazar just barely had time to scream before a pair of jaws clamped down on his throat and ended his life.
* * *
Inside the courthouse, Nick heard the crash and jumped out of bed, grabbing his father's sword and rushing to the main doors.
"Show yourself!" He yelled as he ran into the court room, brandishing his sword. Just outside of the ruined doors, he could see three wolf-like figures bounding away into the darkness. Just inside the doors was Lazar - or rather, what was left of him.
Resisting the urge to vomit, Nick ran outside.
"Help! Help!" He yelled. "Someone, quick!" He was about to call again, when he saw a figure hurrying towards him, a sledgehammer in its hands.
"Thank God." Nick gasped. "Lazar's been atacked! I think he might be dead."
"Where? Show me." The figure demanded. Nick nodded and turned to look back at the courthouse. Then something hit his head hard from behind.
Nick fell to the ground, dazed, his skull broken.
"Didn't expect that one, did you?" His attacker sneered. The figure raised the sledgehammer again. "Consider this to be justice served, your honour."
Nick was still trying to figure out just what was going on when the hammer came down, crushing his skull.
* * *
Sunlight crept once more over the village, now eerily quiet. People cautiously began stepping outside their doors. A few even began celebrating their continued survival.
A crowd slowly gathered at the wrecked doors of the courthouse. The shredded body of Lazar and Nick's crushed skull - the murder weapon discarded beside it - the focus of everyone's attention.
---------------
You may now post again.
* * *
The night was cold, and the wind whistled through the town. In every house people sat awake, huddled in whatever part of the house they deemed safest, clutching whatever weapons they had been able to fashion. Some had just begun to drift off to sleep when the howling began...
* * *
The townspeople sat still, frozen with fear as the sounds of movement and sniffing became audible. Many doused whatever lights they still had on, hoping to hide themselves in the darkness. Growls and the occasional sound of claws scratching on the wooden frames of houses approached and left each building in turn, the occupants breathing a sign of relief once the sounds had receeded.
In the small room above the cobbler's shop Lazar sat awake, clutching the sharp knife he used for cutting leather, staring intently at the door leading downstairs. He could hear them now; snuffling and scratching at the front door he had hastily boarded up. Suddenly, there as a loud wooden crash as the door was smashed down.
With a yelp of fear, Lazar jumped out of his bed and rushed to the bedroom door, locking it quickly as the sound of paws on the stairs became louder. Franticaly he began piling whatever pieces of furniture he could move in front of the door. Lastly, he tipped the large wardrobe that had been in his family for generations over on top of the pile, just as the monsters reached the landing and slammed into the door at full force.
The door barely moved, for which Lazar breathed a sigh of relief. But the werewolf outside slammed into it again, and again. The sound of wood cracking sounded unnaturaly loud to the cobbler's ears.
Lazar looked around the room franticaly, looking for anything he could use. His eye fell on the window. He hadn't boarded it up, thinking it too high for the creatures to get in through. He rushed over to it and shoved it open, looking out of it for any sign of help. There, he thought, the court-house! He looked down at the ground dubiously. Could he survive the fall?
The werewolf outside slammed into the door again, smashing it in half though still prevented from entering by the mass of furniture blocking the entrance. Lazar looked around, and nearly died of fright.
There were two of them, their fur grey and shaggy. Two pairs of wicked golden eyes glared at him hatefully. The one in front growled at him, displaying rows of sharp teeth.
Without a second's more hesitation, Lazar jumped.
He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from him by the jump. By a miracle, he hadn't broken anything. He staggered to his feet, and began running for the courthouse, where Nick could help him.
The third werewolf - the pack leader - watched him run from the roof of the cobbler's shop. It had sent the other two in and waited there itself in case just such an occurance happened. With a snarl, it lept from the roof nimbly and bounded after him.
The pack-leader caught up with the cobbler just as the man reached the courthouse door. It slammed into him from behind at full force, breaking his spine and smashing the man into the large doors which gave way beneath the impact, breaking inwards. Lazar just barely had time to scream before a pair of jaws clamped down on his throat and ended his life.
* * *
Inside the courthouse, Nick heard the crash and jumped out of bed, grabbing his father's sword and rushing to the main doors.
"Show yourself!" He yelled as he ran into the court room, brandishing his sword. Just outside of the ruined doors, he could see three wolf-like figures bounding away into the darkness. Just inside the doors was Lazar - or rather, what was left of him.
Resisting the urge to vomit, Nick ran outside.
"Help! Help!" He yelled. "Someone, quick!" He was about to call again, when he saw a figure hurrying towards him, a sledgehammer in its hands.
"Thank God." Nick gasped. "Lazar's been atacked! I think he might be dead."
"Where? Show me." The figure demanded. Nick nodded and turned to look back at the courthouse. Then something hit his head hard from behind.
Nick fell to the ground, dazed, his skull broken.
"Didn't expect that one, did you?" His attacker sneered. The figure raised the sledgehammer again. "Consider this to be justice served, your honour."
Nick was still trying to figure out just what was going on when the hammer came down, crushing his skull.
* * *
Sunlight crept once more over the village, now eerily quiet. People cautiously began stepping outside their doors. A few even began celebrating their continued survival.
A crowd slowly gathered at the wrecked doors of the courthouse. The shredded body of Lazar and Nick's crushed skull - the murder weapon discarded beside it - the focus of everyone's attention.
---------------
You may now post again.
"You've all been selected for this mission because you each have a special skill. Professor Hawking, John Leslie, Phil Neville, the Wu-Tang Clan, Usher, the Sugar Puffs Monster and Daniel Day-Lewis! Welcome to Operation MindFuck!"
-
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- Posts: 26014
- Joined: Fri Jul 13, 2007 10:58 pm
- Location: Poblacht na hÉireann, Baile Átha Cliath
Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
The townspeople dispersed, wandering back to their homes as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Many were nervous, though some were confident in their own abilities to defend themselves. As dusk turned slowly into night, the sound of hammering filled the air as people franticaly tried to board up their doors and windows, hoping their defences to be enough to assure their survival until the morning.
* * *
The night was cold, and the wind whistled through the town. In every house people sat awake, huddled in whatever part of the house they deemed safest, clutching whatever weapons they had been able to fashion. Some had just begun to drift off to sleep when the howling began...
* * *
The townspeople sat still, frozen with fear as the sounds of movement and sniffing became audible. Many doused whatever lights they still had on, hoping to hide themselves in the darkness. Growls and the occasional sound of claws scratching on the wooden frames of houses approached and left each building in turn, the occupants breathing a sign of relief once the sounds had receeded.
In the small room above the cobbler's shop Lazar sat awake, clutching the sharp knife he used for cutting leather, staring intently at the door leading downstairs. He could hear them now; snuffling and scratching at the front door he had hastily boarded up. Suddenly, there as a loud wooden crash as the door was smashed down.
With a yelp of fear, Lazar jumped out of his bed and rushed to the bedroom door, locking it quickly as the sound of paws on the stairs became louder. Franticaly he began piling whatever pieces of furniture he could move in front of the door. Lastly, he tipped the large wardrobe that had been in his family for generations over on top of the pile, just as the monsters reached the landing and slammed into the door at full force.
The door barely moved, for which Lazar breathed a sigh of relief. But the werewolf outside slammed into it again, and again. The sound of wood cracking sounded unnaturaly loud to the cobbler's ears.
Lazar looked around the room franticaly, looking for anything he could use. His eye fell on the window. He hadn't boarded it up, thinking it too high for the creatures to get in through. He rushed over to it and shoved it open, looking out of it for any sign of help. There, he thought, the court-house! He looked down at the ground dubiously. Could he survive the fall?
The werewolf outside slammed into the door again, smashing it in half though still prevented from entering by the mass of furniture blocking the entrance. Lazar looked around, and nearly died of fright.
There were two of them, their fur grey and shaggy. Two pairs of wicked golden eyes glared at him hatefully. The one in front growled at him, displaying rows of sharp teeth.
Without a second's more hesitation, Lazar jumped.
He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from him by the jump. By a miracle, he hadn't broken anything. He staggered to his feet, and began running for the courthouse, where Nick could help him.
The third werewolf - the pack leader - watched him run from the roof of the cobbler's shop. It had sent the other two in and waited there itself in case just such an occurance happened. With a snarl, it lept from the roof nimbly and bounded after him.
The pack-leader caught up with the cobbler just as the man reached the courthouse door. It slammed into him from behind at full force, breaking his spine and smashing the man into the large doors which gave way beneath the impact, breaking inwards. Lazar just barely had time to scream before a pair of jaws clamped down on his throat and ended his life.
* * *
Inside the courthouse, Nick heard the crash and jumped out of bed, grabbing his father's sword and rushing to the main doors.
"Show yourself!" He yelled as he ran into the court room, brandishing his sword. Just outside of the ruined doors, he could see three wolf-like figures bounding away into the darkness. Just inside the doors was Lazar - or rather, what was left of him.
Resisting the urge to vomit, Nick ran outside.
"Help! Help!" He yelled. "Someone, quick!" He was about to call again, when he saw a figure hurrying towards him, a sledgehammer in its hands.
"Thank God." Nick gasped. "Lazar's been atacked! I think he might be dead."
"Where? Show me." The figure demanded. Nick nodded and turned to look back at the courthouse. Then something hit his head hard from behind.
Nick fell to the ground, dazed, his skull broken.
"Didn't expect that one, did you?" His attacker sneered. The figure raised the sledgehammer again. "Consider this to be justice served, your honour."
Nick was still trying to figure out just what was going on when the hammer came down, crushing his skull.
* * *
Sunlight crept once more over the village, now eerily quiet. People cautiously began stepping outside their doors. A few even began celebrating their continued survival.
A crowd slowly gathered at the wrecked doors of the courthouse. The shredded body of Lazar and Nick's crushed skull - the murder weapon discarded beside it - the focus of everyone's attention.
---------------
You may now post again.
* * *
The night was cold, and the wind whistled through the town. In every house people sat awake, huddled in whatever part of the house they deemed safest, clutching whatever weapons they had been able to fashion. Some had just begun to drift off to sleep when the howling began...
* * *
The townspeople sat still, frozen with fear as the sounds of movement and sniffing became audible. Many doused whatever lights they still had on, hoping to hide themselves in the darkness. Growls and the occasional sound of claws scratching on the wooden frames of houses approached and left each building in turn, the occupants breathing a sign of relief once the sounds had receeded.
In the small room above the cobbler's shop Lazar sat awake, clutching the sharp knife he used for cutting leather, staring intently at the door leading downstairs. He could hear them now; snuffling and scratching at the front door he had hastily boarded up. Suddenly, there as a loud wooden crash as the door was smashed down.
With a yelp of fear, Lazar jumped out of his bed and rushed to the bedroom door, locking it quickly as the sound of paws on the stairs became louder. Franticaly he began piling whatever pieces of furniture he could move in front of the door. Lastly, he tipped the large wardrobe that had been in his family for generations over on top of the pile, just as the monsters reached the landing and slammed into the door at full force.
The door barely moved, for which Lazar breathed a sigh of relief. But the werewolf outside slammed into it again, and again. The sound of wood cracking sounded unnaturaly loud to the cobbler's ears.
Lazar looked around the room franticaly, looking for anything he could use. His eye fell on the window. He hadn't boarded it up, thinking it too high for the creatures to get in through. He rushed over to it and shoved it open, looking out of it for any sign of help. There, he thought, the court-house! He looked down at the ground dubiously. Could he survive the fall?
The werewolf outside slammed into the door again, smashing it in half though still prevented from entering by the mass of furniture blocking the entrance. Lazar looked around, and nearly died of fright.
There were two of them, their fur grey and shaggy. Two pairs of wicked golden eyes glared at him hatefully. The one in front growled at him, displaying rows of sharp teeth.
Without a second's more hesitation, Lazar jumped.
He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from him by the jump. By a miracle, he hadn't broken anything. He staggered to his feet, and began running for the courthouse, where Nick could help him.
The third werewolf - the pack leader - watched him run from the roof of the cobbler's shop. It had sent the other two in and waited there itself in case just such an occurance happened. With a snarl, it lept from the roof nimbly and bounded after him.
The pack-leader caught up with the cobbler just as the man reached the courthouse door. It slammed into him from behind at full force, breaking his spine and smashing the man into the large doors which gave way beneath the impact, breaking inwards. Lazar just barely had time to scream before a pair of jaws clamped down on his throat and ended his life.
* * *
Inside the courthouse, Nick heard the crash and jumped out of bed, grabbing his father's sword and rushing to the main doors.
"Show yourself!" He yelled as he ran into the court room, brandishing his sword. Just outside of the ruined doors, he could see three wolf-like figures bounding away into the darkness. Just inside the doors was Lazar - or rather, what was left of him.
Resisting the urge to vomit, Nick ran outside.
"Help! Help!" He yelled. "Someone, quick!" He was about to call again, when he saw a figure hurrying towards him, a sledgehammer in its hands.
"Thank God." Nick gasped. "Lazar's been atacked! I think he might be dead."
"Where? Show me." The figure demanded. Nick nodded and turned to look back at the courthouse. Then something hit his head hard from behind.
Nick fell to the ground, dazed, his skull broken.
"Didn't expect that one, did you?" His attacker sneered. The figure raised the sledgehammer again. "Consider this to be justice served, your honour."
Nick was still trying to figure out just what was going on when the hammer came down, crushing his skull.
* * *
Sunlight crept once more over the village, now eerily quiet. People cautiously began stepping outside their doors. A few even began celebrating their continued survival.
A crowd slowly gathered at the wrecked doors of the courthouse. The shredded body of Lazar and Nick's crushed skull - the murder weapon discarded beside it - the focus of everyone's attention.
---------------
You may now post again.
"You've all been selected for this mission because you each have a special skill. Professor Hawking, John Leslie, Phil Neville, the Wu-Tang Clan, Usher, the Sugar Puffs Monster and Daniel Day-Lewis! Welcome to Operation MindFuck!"
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
they killed two of us....I thought that stranger said, they'd only go after one!
In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
Wait a minute... he was right. Nick wasn't killed by a werewolf. Why would a werewolf use a sledgehammer?
Dear G-d, as if those demons weren't bad enough... we have a murderer among us.
Dear G-d, as if those demons weren't bad enough... we have a murderer among us.
I can't stand nothing dull
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
This is a most unexpected and most unwelcome development, I must say.
Why would anyone want to kill Mister Judge Nick?
Why would anyone want to kill Mister Judge Nick?
There is only one way of avoiding the war – that is the overthrow of this society. However, as we are too weak for this task, the war is inevitable. -L. Trotsky, 1939
Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
Great, not only do I have to worry about semi-mindless monsters, I have to worry about some fool.
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
oh great...well does anyone want to confess...who killed Nick?
In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
Yeah, that might work. While we're at it, does anybody want to admit to being a werewolf?Lt. Staplic wrote:oh great...well does anyone want to confess...who killed Nick?
Now more than ever, we need to stick to groups of three.
I can't stand nothing dull
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
I got the high gloss luster
I'll massacre your ass as fast
as Bull offed Custer
- Angharrad
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
I do not trust any of you. And I have killed no one. The thought just chills me.
“You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore.”
And then Buffy staked Edward. The End.
From Slave to Princess
And then Buffy staked Edward. The End.
From Slave to Princess
Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
Well, I trust my dog. But thats about it. And at the rate things are goin, we don't have much time before there's none of us left.
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- Angharrad
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
yes we must do something. I cannot think after seeing his honor's head split open. Someone please cover it up. I need something to settle my nerves now.
“You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore.”
And then Buffy staked Edward. The End.
From Slave to Princess
And then Buffy staked Edward. The End.
From Slave to Princess
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
I will go make some herbal tea; it will calm our nerves, and calm our stomachs.
There is only one way of avoiding the war – that is the overthrow of this society. However, as we are too weak for this task, the war is inevitable. -L. Trotsky, 1939
Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
And poison us as well?
Sorry, my suspicions are getting the better of me.
:: looks at Mikey ::
By the way, did you hear anything odd at the barn last night, or was it just my imagination?
Sorry, my suspicions are getting the better of me.
:: looks at Mikey ::
By the way, did you hear anything odd at the barn last night, or was it just my imagination?
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Re: Find the...uh..."Founders" IX
I assure you sirs, my herbs would be quite beneficial.
There is only one way of avoiding the war – that is the overthrow of this society. However, as we are too weak for this task, the war is inevitable. -L. Trotsky, 1939