kain222

Hey, i saw something like this over at the WoW roleplaying forums, and figured i'd bring the idea over here.

So, if your character had to die, what would it be like?

Post your mini - death scenes here .

This - by no means is sacrificeing your character, just posting - if you had to kill your character, how would you do it?

Kaiz from the devinant inn thread:

Kaiz sprints down the alleyway, blood on his fangs. Two men behind him, stakes in hand are chaseing after him too, Kaizs turns around, sending a shattering uppercut into one of them, then turns to the other.

The sound of peirced flesh sounds through the cold night, Kaiz looks down, a stake in his heart, blood dripping from his mouth, going onto the stake and pit-patting on the cold concrete floor.

The Iorn-tipped wood burned - it hurt, images flash through Kaizs mind, and they drift off into times of his life.

He remembers, crystal clear water, a pond, the surrounding green around it, the image forms, and he finds himself standing by a waterfall.

A figure approaches him - a vampire hunter and his brother. The horror strikes Kaiz instantly, these are the men who he had fed on in his first night of bloodlust.

The images shift to different people, victims, cold tears run down Kaizs face, he is snapped out of it, after what seems like an eternity the stake is withdrawn.

He flops to the ground, eyes open, his vision blurring.

It... Cant... End... Like... Thi-....s.......

__________________

JubJub

No! don't kill Kaiz! We can still revive the Deviant Inn RP!!!

*cough* anyways...

John from the deviant inn:

John woke up in the middle of the night, he opened the door of his room and looks around to see if the coast is clear. He went out slowly closed the door. The creaking sound made him worried that someone could get awake, so he closed his eyes and prayed, hoping that no one will get awake. He opened his eyes, smiled and looked up into the ceiling, mumbling. "Thank you Lord!"

John silently walked through the hallway and down the stairs, and made his way to the kitchen. He approached the kitchen table and picked up a jar with the words "C.O.O.K.I.E" and a note that says "Only eat one after lunch/dinner". He opened the jar and put his hand inside, getting a cookie. His eyes sparkled as he stared at the chocolate chip cookie on his hand and started eating it.

John continued eating, not noticing that someone was watching him from behind...

"WHAT DO YOU THINK ARE YOU DOING?!!!" Norn shouted who was behind John. John choked on the cookie as he was surprised that Norn was there. He fell into the ground, looking and holding his hand up.

"Wa...ter... *Hiiiing*"

__________________

Folion

(Gratouitous violence follows!)

Oh God.

Mark was dead. He was alone. Alone inside this hell-hole of a house with those bloody ghouls lurching at the boarded up window outside, pounding on his only protection with bloody fists. Ruben watched with horror as the wood bulged inwards, threatening to implode at any moment. He sat there with his only weapon - a lousy pistol with two clips sitting at his side - and prayed for the worst.

It would not be a quick death. Judging by the orchestra of torn flesh and inhuman screams he'd heard so many times by people he lacked the courage to help... it never was. He swore. It wasn't supposed to end like this. This wasn't how he planned it out. Somehow, somewhere, their escape had ended in him starting where he began all over again.

There was a loud crack. Ruben jumped up, aiming his pistol at the new hole in his only defense. He saw them. There were many outside, unable to hold their patience. The whole house was roaring. Why were there so many? There were always so fucking many. He saw a blood-red eye focus on his trembling form for a split-second, a hideous growl vomiting forth from the many opponents just outside.

"Fuck!" He roared.

As that last word left his mouth, they came pouring in, breaking the window and bursting through the walls surrounding him. They grabbed at him, grappled at his body, tossing it between them like a ragdoll. They were a sadistic child and he was their toy. He felt one of them tug at his hair, ripping at its base, tearing bits and pieces and tossing them aside as the attacker finally lunged and bit into his scalp.

He screamed. Oh God. He screamed. They bit into his arms. His legs. His face. His eyes. His groin. They were all over him. A swarm of over-grown ants nitpicking at the juciest bits of their prey. He could've sworn he heard a laugh somewhere in the group. One held his hand, looking at it with a bleeding smile before it engorged itself, helping itself to his fingers. He felt his digits coming loose, blood leaking out of his many wounds.

He roared. It did not sound human. He sounded like one of them. They scratched at him. He felt the shoes on the soles of his feet being flung aside, as they bit and ripped at his socks, eventually biting through the fabric of his clothing.

He felt his intestines and his stomach stabbed, their numbers grew evermore as more ghouls converged on the mass feeding. They plunged into his organs, ripping out his guts, splattering his blood over their leering faces. He screamed once more until a ghoul reared over his head, saliva dripping down its mottled chin as it took a healty bite into his throat, more and more ghouls tearing into his eyes, his nose, his mouth...

Until nothing remained.

(If I'm gonna take him out, I'm gonna take him out with a bang. D: <)

__________________

JubJub

Hahaha! yeah lol! I'd rather shoot myself than slowly die, getting eaten by those ghouls, feeling the pain.

__________________

Qbert24

(weee)

Lyte stared at the cloaked man angrily. And looked around hoping for an exit, There was none, he knew it, this was the end. All that hard work only to be murdered. Lyte stirred uncomfortably "I-It can't end like this...". Lyte unsheathed his dagger and ran forward towards the figure. He chuckled darkly and grasped lyte by the throat.

He removed his hood slowly, his eyes were full of hate and his smile... just so... cruel looking. Lyte gulped as he looked into lyte's eyes, "Your going to die Little one, The darklord has declared so, either pledge your loyalty or face DEATH!" he screamed angrily. Lyte gulped and spoke slowly " N-N-Never! Not after what he did to Lee!" now his voice rising and full of hate " I WILL NOT SURRENDER TO YOUR LORD! NEVER!". The figure chuckled darkly and looked at Lyte fury burning in his dark eyes. "You think you escape him in death little one? how foolish, you will learn obedience welp!" At that he unsheathed his sword and let Lyte down he dropped his voice to a whisper "You will learn welp!" Lyte growled and attempted to grab his dagger, But the figured thrust his sword into his stomach.

"Noo--" Lyte couldn't continue his sentence and collapsed onto the floor as his blood flowed out it reflecting in the moonlight. Lyte was still squirming, so the figure took his foot and lamed it into lyte's back stomping on it as he spurted blood from his mouth screaming in anguish. He stopped twitching and the Figure threw his head back and let out a cold laugh. He picked up lyte's body and uttered a word then vanished.

=D

__________________

Kratos'girl

Chaos ran swiftly as the cloaked figure kept following him."LEAVE ME ALONE!"Chaos screamed,as he chunked daggers at the figure.The figure dodged and laughed at him.Chaos ran into an allyway and fell to the ground,exhausted.I can't last much longer.He thought.He slowly drifted into darkness.He awoke with the figure stooped over him with a dagger in his hands.Then,before Chaos could yell for help,the figure slit his throat.Chaos uttered no other sound.He was dead.

__________________

Marineking

I'm going to let this slide, since it's so much fun, but this really isn't a chat forum. Make sure all of your posts have content in them, and not just comments/critiques.

*******************

Sarrisan thundered down the hallowed hall, his boots echoing with almost painful volume against the variegated blue and yellow marble walls. His arms pumped as fast as his legs, and his gun-holster shook on it's belt along with his sword. Time was running out; he'd been a damned fool. He should never have left in the first place. But no, he'd let his feelings get in the way, and now look at what was happening!

The tall wooden double doors approached, their beautiful intricate carvings inlaid with gold, copper and silver giving him no comfort as they had in years past, and he leaped, smashing his boot in-between them, sending them smashing, splinters flying everywhere, against the walls; he never missed a pace as he kept on running.

He slid around corners, swinging his fist in anticipation of guards, sending their metal helmets smashing against walls along with their brain-matter. Several times he was forced to face Brothers, men and women he had loved dearly a long time ago, but he gave no mercy as he ended their existence now.

His hair felt grayer then ever as he finally came upon the gates to the Inner Sanctum. He'd spent long hours in that room, practicing, laughing, and crying. he used to look upon these very doors - so deceivingly simple in their unadorned beauty - with more reverence then he'd once looked upon his own father. But that was all over now, and he drew his titanium sword from his belt, holding it with both hands in front of him. Scanning his little finger along the pommel, he activated the nano-bots inside the blade, and it heated to such an extreme temperature that only long, long years of training allowed him to grasp the hilt. With a roar, he swung it with all his fury, smashing the magically reinforced lock to pieces.

With rage having full hold of him now, he smashed his shoulder against the doors, pushing them open, and finally faced the man he was after, sitting upon the throne a hundred feet across the room.

Fwack!

He never saw it coming, and wasn't entirely sure what had happened until he saw the small, hand-sized crossbow in his masters hand. He reached to his throat and felt the poisoned bolt deeply embedded into his skin. Once again, he'd let his feelings control him, and again, it seems he was paying the ultimate price. His master smiled sardonically and shook his head with what seemed to be disappointment in his eyes. "You never did grasp the finer points of your lessons, did you Sarin? Of course you excelled in everything else, how would you be here facing me here if not? But it served you no purpose. Even you can die with something so simple and undignified as a poison dart. Good riddance, and a damned waste."

His eyes bulging, Sarrisan felt a pang in his chest at hearing his old name being spoken again by that voice, in that tone. But for once, his mind was clear. There was one skill with which his master did not know about, for the Brotherhood did not train in firearms. With his last strength, he whipped out his long, silver revolver with a speed borne of countless hours, and leveled it with the man he loved more then anything. His eyes widened as he realized that, having been caught up in his speech, he'd neglected to notice any weapons but the power sword, and he opened his mouth to shout, but before even a sound escaped, Sarrisan's bullet was burying itself inside his skull.

At the blast, guards rushed in from side-doors and, seeing their master, half of them rushed to him. The other half came to Sarrisan and plunged their spears into his chest, his leg, his neck. But he was already dead, falling forward onto the golden tiled floor with a smile on his face, and a tear in his eye.

((Hell, I never got a chance to flesh this character out in the RP, so this will have to do. And just one last thing, JubJub, you win this thread.))

__________________

Derek Dwyre

[I've got too many character lying around. I figure I can kill off a few of them. -sadistic grin-]

----

The night was still. The guards were alert. The world was at peace. Nothing should have happened. No one should have died.

Samuel patrolled the inside of the castle, bastard sword at his hip. His silver armor caught every ray of the torches the lit the corridors. The shuffling sound of other knights was easily heard through-out the palace. It was secure, or so Samuel thought.

As he approached his next guard post by the gates, a low-pitched whine suddenly filled the air. Samuel and several other knights looked around, all curious and apprehensive of the source of the sound.

"Look!"

Samuel looked up in time to see a large black blimp with motors and machinery crash not a hundred away from his position. The craft exploded in a violent display of fire, light, screams, and stone. The force of it all knocked Samuel and the other knights off their feet. A few were unfortunate enough to fall off the battlements, their screams fading until they were silenced with a loud crash of metal and bone.

Stumbling up, Samuel drew his blade. "It's them. The beasts of Grish'kah have launched an attack. To arms, men! Fight them back!" The knights around Samuel all yelled and followed him into battle as bells began ringing through-out the castle.

Knights of Daridul swarmed on the wound of their castle, only to be met by creatures with ash gray skin, sulfurous breathe, and eyes as red as blood. Their black armor was crude, but the blades they wielded were wicked and sharp.

The crash of metal against metal soon filled the air. Screams of demons and humans alike dotted the fight like obscene notes in a soft ballad. Samuel ducked and stabbed one creature before turning and cutting the head off another. Looking around, it was clear that the creatures would take the battlements.

"Fall back! Fall back to the keep!" Samuel orderd as a second craft blew up against the opposite side of the castle. Knights, women, and peasants flooded the castle yards, each eager to reach the safety of the keep. Already, archers were in position and picking creatures off where they could.

As Samuel ushered a group of women inside the keep, a creature snarled and fell down from the sky, wielding a long, wicked black dagger. Samuel gasped at a cut across his hand but quickly skewered the fell beast. Feeling the sting of his wound, Samuel pushed it away and rushed inside as the gate slid shut.

By the time Samuel reached the throne room, his hand was on fire. Hiding it from view, Samuel pushed open one of the armory doors to find his friend. "Barik, thank the Gods you're here. I need to see your Firebrand." Samuel gasped and shuddered as the door shut.

"Samuel, what's wrong." Barik took off his helmet and stepped forward.

"This." Samuel groaned as he held forth his wounded hand. Already it was black and bloated as if it had been dead for a moment.

"Gods mercy, did a creature give you that wound?" Barik asked as he retrieved his Firebrand.

"Yes... now I need you to cut my arm off." Samuel said, still shuddering.

"You're mad!" Barik exclaimed.

"It's my only chance. " Samuel explained as he knocked the contents of the table off. "Do it." Barik hesitated as Samuel put his left arm on the table. The blackness had already spread past his wrist.

"DO IT!!!"

Barik rubbed the red ruby on the hilt of the blade, the metal instantly glowing white-hot. With a yell, Barik swung and cut off the dead limb, severing his arm at the elbow.

Instantly, Samuel bellowed in pain as he fell to the ground, heaving and shuddering like a man in Death's grasp. After what seemed like an eternity of screaming and taking breath only to scream again, Samuel heaved the contents of his stomach up and stumbled up, weakly grasping his blade.

"Thank you, Barik. Now we must defend this castle."

"You're in no such shape."

Samuel simply walked out and stood next to his king. Hundreds of knights were assembled in the throne room, each ready to fight to the death. Outside, the shrieks of creatures and women filled the air as the throne room doors shuddered from blows.

Suddenly, the doors blew apart in a display of purple flames. Knights shouted and creatures bellowed as a terrible melee began. Samuel wanted nothing more than to jump in, yet he stood his ground by the king.

Slowly though, to Samuel's shock, they were losing. "My Lord, I must get you out of here." Samuel turned to the king, pleading with the old man.

"Nonsense. My brothers are here and I can be rid of your kind." The king spoke softly, smiling in an unearthly fashion.

Samuel dropped his blade in shock. "What... My Lord... why?"

Suddenly, the king flew at Samuel and thrust a short sword through Samuel's chest. Samuel stumbled back, blood bubbling and spilling from his mouth. His knees hit the ground, yet Samuel still looked at his king with confusion filling his eyes.

"I despise humans." The king grinned, revealing a row of sharp, inhuman teeth. "I despise you. Now, you will die." A dagger like the one that had pained him earlier appeared in the king's hand as he reached down and slit Samuel's throat with it.

Instantly, the dying man thrashed and screamed so loudly, the fighting actually stopped. His skin bubbled and turned black as death, yet still Samuel lived. Slowly, as Death covered his tongue and eyes, Samuel felt tired. Coughing blood, Samuel tried to grab the edge of the king's robe, but the man kicked Samuel's hand away, picked up his blade, the blade that had faithfully served the king for ten years, and cut off Samuel's head before kicking it aside and spitting on the body.

__________________

lokuri

Demonic Retribution (dead now anyways >_< the first)

Nayumi had found herself in a state of sleep, her mind twirling as she awaited death. Her back, having had stopped bleeding before, still sent sharp pains through her being, at which she shook violently when the pain was too harmful to contain. Flashing open her eyes, she realized it was now dark out. The moon was high in the air, an ominous feeling surrounding her as she finally understood what time it was.

The same oder that had chocked her earlier had returned, clutching to her nostrils. A sudden shaking should that the beast had returned, more-over, the Demon of Death. Its blood red claws grew closer and closer, the eight eyes, four on each side, scanning the scene for the first kill. With a sudden flinch of fear, she felt the almond shaped eyes target her, makingh her shake a bit. Nayumi knew she was at the last moment of her life, and would never see her friends again. She noted the change in the beast voice, though her body was too weak to move her from the position she was now in.

"It is time for you to die, little Nayumi," the Demon of Death shouted, chuckling slightly. "Say your bids good-bye now!"

Just as Nayumi opened her mouth, she could feel the red hot liquid oozing down her stomach, and a piecing pain flashing diagonal toards her heart. With a silent yell, her eyes wide with horror, Nayumi's body became motionless. Tears of blood came forth down the side of her cheecks as her lips tried to utter their last words.

"Please, may my friends be spared," Then Nayumi was nothing more than an empty shell.

((OOC: Kay, gotta goooo :o ))

__________________

kain222

(( i wont kill off Varrachon in my tales of the rigante thread, but i may aswell post what his death would be like.))

Varrachon was standing there, today was the day, the charge against the mighty army of the stone, he looked across the lines to see Arthuria standing there, he whispered to himself.
"Morrigu, if you can hear me now, please grant my wish, get her through the battle even if it means my death." Varr says before braceing himself and chargeing with the rest of the soldiers, and connovar the king into the stone troops, smashing through their sheilds.

Arthuria was cracking the skull of a man with her hammer, when suddenly, a spear lunged out, varr sprinted to her, whispering silently, "No...", he leaps infront of her, takeing the hit from the spear, it peirceing through his lungs. Varrachon started to suffocate, wind not entering him he spasmed on the ground, blood pourning out of his mouth before he finally uttered his last breath.

A old, veiled lady with a crow on her shoulder, observeing the battle from above let out a crackle at Varrachons corpse.

"You wanted to save her, didnt you lad? even if it means your death?" she crackles once again before dissapearing.

__________________