Old Hero Writes Scenes and Crap for You

[Old Hero]

So, I got this idea from redeyesblackpanda's thread. It's the same thing, pretty much. Give me a character and I'll write a story regarding them, or give me rocks and I'll make fire.

Rocks = Scenes, by the way.

Anyway, samples of my work are at the bottom. I have more, but then this thread will turn into a Gallery.


Lucidity

I looked.

And she looked back.

My heart sank in my chest. It throbbed as if I was still alive, ached like I still had feelings. It pounded and thudded, growing louder and louder until it was all I could hear.

No. Ignore it. Stay calm.

I made my way up the stairs, cautiously. Each step was careful, deliberate. Heel first, then toe follows. Step after careful step, one at a time.

Sigh.

I've made so many mistakes. Why can I not stop making them?

My body is cold to the touch, my fingers are numb down to the bone. My nerves are frozen solid, glazed over as if submerged in a lake. My eyes are glassy, and I cannot tell if I'm dying, or just tired. Or both.

'Fish don't have feelings. So it's okay to kill them."

That's always been sound logic to me. Always. Feelings lead to a conscience, and a conscience leads to guilt. I have no time for that. Not now.

I edge my way up the rest of the stairs, panic striking my chest as one of the steps creak. Like a thunder, it cracks through the silence, lighting the darkness like a distant beacon.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Did she hear it?

I hope not. I have to continue on.

I make my way to the door. It's a crack open, a single beam of light resting on her chin.

I open it, slowly. It moves nearly half an inch within the time frame of a minute.

Slowly...

Slowly...

It opens. Like a hammer strikes steel, it opens rougher than I had anticipated, nearly slamming against the wall.
But it doesn't.

I edge closer and closer to the bed.

You did this to us. Not me. You.

I stare at the man in the bed with her.

We had kids. Three of them. And then you ruin that for this...this swine! This filthy fucking pig! I will send you to hell and back, you bitch.

I splash gasoline over both their soon-to-be corpses. I had been holding it in my hand the whole time. My non-nerves couldn't feel it in my palm.

Then I splash some on myself.

I take out my lighter.

...

Heat. An intense, single flame spouts from its hole. It licks at the air, burning hot. I don't take time for subtlety. They are awake now.

"-S-Sean! Don't! Stop! It's not what it looks like!"

Not what it looks like?! Bitch. Filthy whore! Goddamn you, I gave you fifteen years of my life. Burn. Burn in hell!
Burn burn burn burn burn!

Fire. This one is bigger. It licks not at air, but at us.

We burn. Together.

And we scream. Together.

We die. Together.

Yes...together. Just like it should have been.

My Current VN Intro

The city was a beautiful assortment of lights, colors, and people.
Mostly.

The buildings were a towering network of windows, spanning the sky like birds.
Mostly.

The people were a joyous and happy bunch, littering the earth with smiles and good cheer.
Mostly.

There were, of course, exceptions to this rule. Two, in fact.

#Change Perspective

Judge shifted through the din of the crowd, face plastered with a look of disdain. Normally, one dressed like that would have stuck out like a rotting leg, but the cluster of people pushed Judge tightly at its center. Judge could feel the breath of people hardly known, feel the heartbeats throbbing from people that shouldn't have had hearts.

White hair pierced the night like a spear. Dark eyes gleamed from delight, and it was all that could be done to stop Judge’s lips from licking like a snake.

Judge’s hand was warm and bloodied, dripping and leaking like a faucet.

None of this mattered. Not on this day, of all days. Today was special. It would
be a rebirthing. A Ragnarok. A Rapture.

Indeed. Judge’s plan would go as intended. Judge would make sure of it. Judge could only think of one thing:
I will win.

#Change Perspective

The Chief shifted through the din of the crowd, sticking out like a third head. Everyone had smiles on this night, of all nights, stretching from one side of their cheek to the other. The Chief, however, was adorned in a simple motorcycle helmet, a midnight black visor in place of two eyes.

The Chief's grace stabbed at the dark like a sword. Distant, unseen eyes scanned the crowd of people with a speckle and glimmer of excitement. It was all the Chief could do to keep from screaming in glee.

One of the two hands was gloveless, which seemed odd compared with the other, which was covered in a black cloth and shimmered like a shadow.

But none of this mattered. Not on this day, of all days. Today was special. It would be an unmasking. A Marvel. A Beginning.

Indeed, Chief's plans would go as intended. It would be made sure of.
Then all is won.

[Hijiri]

Hmm...mind if you write a scene of my character Abraham from Death Rule? (He's the blonde-haired guy in my thread in the link in my sig)

[Old Hero]

Sure, sure. Any specifics?

Genre? Feel? POV? Do you want him talking to another character in your World? Do you wanna cry, laugh?

[Hijiri]

Hmm, any genre really, but I would enjoy a lamenting or sad piece. I want to cry.
And try to have him interact with Tanya (Lady with glasses) if you can

[Old Hero]

All righty, sounds fun.

Hoping I get the personalities right, but we'll just have to see how it comes out, eh?