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x_king · 03-22-2008, 05:58 PM

The doors were creaking - groaning as they shimmied in the wind. A wet gale swept into the entrance hall, puffing up little plastic bags and propelling them into the air. The plaid marble floor was littered with polythene bags, paper shreds and discarded tissue. Each cold eddie caused the papery rubbish to rise and slowly settle.

The unseen hand of death approaches. He ruffles the refuse and pushes the door, itching for a fresh corpse to add to his winnings.

Hughes heard the banging of a signboard against the doorway outside. A broad ebony stairway lay behind him, leading to the second storey of the old manor. He collapsed upon its bottom-most step, gasping for air. Storm clouds boomed. He heard the quiet pattering of rain-drops on the window-panes.

Time passed - The droplets grew fatter and the rattling on the windows grew louder.

Lightning.
Lightning that sets trees ablight,
electrocutes Emperors and thieves alike,
was now flashing in the windows, filling the hallowed interior of the mansion with light - if only momentarily.

He saw a tall, imposing figure in the distance, hooded and armed. His facial features had been adroitly concealed - they were indistinguishable, even in the lightning's blaze. Wisps of smoke were still issuing from the nozzle of the hoodlum's polished Magnum 55. The man had emptied an entire clip on him. Hughes was loosing blood.. fast.

All my glories and feats of valor... only to be slain by a nameless vagabond in a deserted castle.

Slowly his thoughts dissolved into a sea of discordant images, voices and colours. The menancholic blues faded to violent red hues and then to an overwheming pitch black darkness.

03-22-2008, 05:58 PM	#12 (permalink)
x_king Link's Dirty Sock Join Date: Jun 2006 Posts: 49 Reputation: 10 MMOFaces Profile: None Yet	The doors were creaking - groaning as they shimmied in the wind. A wet gale swept into the entrance hall, puffing up little plastic bags and propelling them into the air. The plaid marble floor was littered with polythene bags, paper shreds and discarded tissue. Each cold eddie caused the papery rubbish to rise and slowly settle. The unseen hand of death approaches. He ruffles the refuse and pushes the door, itching for a fresh corpse to add to his winnings. Hughes heard the banging of a signboard against the doorway outside. A broad ebony stairway lay behind him, leading to the second storey of the old manor. He collapsed upon its bottom-most step, gasping for air. Storm clouds boomed. He heard the quiet pattering of rain-drops on the window-panes. Time passed - The droplets grew fatter and the rattling on the windows grew louder. Lightning. Lightning that sets trees ablight, electrocutes Emperors and thieves alike, was now flashing in the windows, filling the hallowed interior of the mansion with light - if only momentarily. He saw a tall, imposing figure in the distance, hooded and armed. His facial features had been adroitly concealed - they were indistinguishable, even in the lightning's blaze. Wisps of smoke were still issuing from the nozzle of the hoodlum's polished Magnum 55. The man had emptied an entire clip on him. Hughes was loosing blood.. fast. All my glories and feats of valor... only to be slain by a nameless vagabond in a deserted castle. Slowly his thoughts dissolved into a sea of discordant images, voices and colours. The menancholic blues faded to violent red hues and then to an overwheming pitch black darkness. Last edited by x_king : 03-22-2008 at 08:50 PM.