Serial Killer - Round Five
- Thread starter CounterAttack
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Make sure you drink some alcohol to increase your imagination.War Penguin said:Uh oh.
Medic dead.
Sorry Sky. I honestly thought it was... someone else. Nice death, by the way.
Well, good thing I'm safe in my semi impenetrable Box Fortress. *Hears ominous noises*
Dammit. Not again...
Anyone get it?
My death - better late than never. =]
Sorry if it's not great - I didn't really have that much time to write it.
Sorry if it's not great - I didn't really have that much time to write it.
DuplicateValue lay awake in bed, listening to the raindrops pattering loudly against his window.
It was strange - usually he would be asleep long before now, but tonight, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn?t.
The sound of the rain created a steady rhythm, running through his head as it filled the silent room. It was calming, but not enough to send him off. He sat up in bed, running his fingers through his long, tangled hair, and gazed around the shadowy room. An orange streetlight shone through the window from outside, casting an artificial glow across the soft carpet. He never closed the curtains at night - he preferred to look out at the night sky and watch the stars twinkle; the light?s last unrelenting defence against the growing darkness.
But tonight there was something wrong, something different - a sense of unease that he just couldn?t shake. He got to his feet and pulled on a t-shirt, making his way over to the window.
Outside, the black pavement glistened with the wet, the orange light creating the illusion of a raging fire enveloping the dark street. There wasn?t a soul outside. Why would there be, at this time of night?
He stood there for a few minutes, observing the drops of water as they trickled down the glass, leaving trails of water in their wake. Still it stayed with him, that feeling - that horrible, nagging feeling that something was very wrong.
Suddenly, behind one of the raindrops, he saw movement. His heart skipped a beat as he focused on the street outside. There was a person after appearing from around a corner, walking slowly and purposefully up the footpath in the direction of his house.
At any other time this wouldn?t have been a remarkable event - maybe this person just enjoyed late night walks, or was making their way home after a night out. But there was something about this figure that he didn?t like, something about the way they moved - as if they had a mission to complete; a goal in mind.
He ducked down so he could continue to watch this person without them seeing him. He could see something glinting - the orange glow from one of the streetlamps was reflecting off something. He strained to see what it was, moving his head around to get a better look.
Then he realised.
This glimmering object that he could see, stayed in the same position no matter where he moved his head. His heart sank as it dawned on him that the object was not in the possession of the mysterious figure, but right there in the room with him.
He turned his head slowly in time to see a tall, hooded figure step out from the shadows in the corner, a silver blade in hand; shining in the orange light. Duplicate stood up and backed away slightly.
?Who??..who are you?!?
The intruder just smiled, revealing a row of perfect white teeth - the only facial feature visible beneath the large hood.
All pretences of calm lost, he was taken by fear. He turned around wildly and started hammering his hands on the glass of the window. The person walking on the footpath was nearly at his gate.
Despite all past distrust, he knew this person was his only hope. He beat harder on the cold glass, calling out at the top of his lungs.
?HELP! HELP ME! THERE?S SOMEONE IN MY ROOM!?
As the person outside passed under the streetlight, Duplicate?s heart was wrenched apart with despair.
The person - who he now saw was just a slightly-drunk, middle-aged man - was wearing earphones.
He dropped to his knees as tears started flowing from his eyes and crashing onto the carpet below. Why did this have to happen to him? Why was there nobody to help him?
The intruder?s breathing seemed very near now - he could see them standing there out of the corner of his eye. Resigned to his fate, he stood up and pressed his forehead to the glass, his tears mirroring the raindrops outside, racing them down the pane.
He felt a cold hand grip his head, forcing it backwards to expose his neck. Then the intruder pressed the icy blade to his neck, like a celloist preparing his bow to play.
The last things he saw before the blade was drawn across his soft skin were the reflection of the intruders teeth - still grinning like a maniac - and the look of utter horror on the drunken man?s face as he happened to turn his head and see, a little too late, what was unfolding in that quiet, shadowy bedroom.
It was strange - usually he would be asleep long before now, but tonight, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn?t.
The sound of the rain created a steady rhythm, running through his head as it filled the silent room. It was calming, but not enough to send him off. He sat up in bed, running his fingers through his long, tangled hair, and gazed around the shadowy room. An orange streetlight shone through the window from outside, casting an artificial glow across the soft carpet. He never closed the curtains at night - he preferred to look out at the night sky and watch the stars twinkle; the light?s last unrelenting defence against the growing darkness.
But tonight there was something wrong, something different - a sense of unease that he just couldn?t shake. He got to his feet and pulled on a t-shirt, making his way over to the window.
Outside, the black pavement glistened with the wet, the orange light creating the illusion of a raging fire enveloping the dark street. There wasn?t a soul outside. Why would there be, at this time of night?
He stood there for a few minutes, observing the drops of water as they trickled down the glass, leaving trails of water in their wake. Still it stayed with him, that feeling - that horrible, nagging feeling that something was very wrong.
Suddenly, behind one of the raindrops, he saw movement. His heart skipped a beat as he focused on the street outside. There was a person after appearing from around a corner, walking slowly and purposefully up the footpath in the direction of his house.
At any other time this wouldn?t have been a remarkable event - maybe this person just enjoyed late night walks, or was making their way home after a night out. But there was something about this figure that he didn?t like, something about the way they moved - as if they had a mission to complete; a goal in mind.
He ducked down so he could continue to watch this person without them seeing him. He could see something glinting - the orange glow from one of the streetlamps was reflecting off something. He strained to see what it was, moving his head around to get a better look.
Then he realised.
This glimmering object that he could see, stayed in the same position no matter where he moved his head. His heart sank as it dawned on him that the object was not in the possession of the mysterious figure, but right there in the room with him.
He turned his head slowly in time to see a tall, hooded figure step out from the shadows in the corner, a silver blade in hand; shining in the orange light. Duplicate stood up and backed away slightly.
?Who??..who are you?!?
The intruder just smiled, revealing a row of perfect white teeth - the only facial feature visible beneath the large hood.
All pretences of calm lost, he was taken by fear. He turned around wildly and started hammering his hands on the glass of the window. The person walking on the footpath was nearly at his gate.
Despite all past distrust, he knew this person was his only hope. He beat harder on the cold glass, calling out at the top of his lungs.
?HELP! HELP ME! THERE?S SOMEONE IN MY ROOM!?
As the person outside passed under the streetlight, Duplicate?s heart was wrenched apart with despair.
The person - who he now saw was just a slightly-drunk, middle-aged man - was wearing earphones.
He dropped to his knees as tears started flowing from his eyes and crashing onto the carpet below. Why did this have to happen to him? Why was there nobody to help him?
The intruder?s breathing seemed very near now - he could see them standing there out of the corner of his eye. Resigned to his fate, he stood up and pressed his forehead to the glass, his tears mirroring the raindrops outside, racing them down the pane.
He felt a cold hand grip his head, forcing it backwards to expose his neck. Then the intruder pressed the icy blade to his neck, like a celloist preparing his bow to play.
The last things he saw before the blade was drawn across his soft skin were the reflection of the intruders teeth - still grinning like a maniac - and the look of utter horror on the drunken man?s face as he happened to turn his head and see, a little too late, what was unfolding in that quiet, shadowy bedroom.
Exactly why I didn't vote for Sky.War Penguin said:
Poor Sky...
Also, awesome death DuplicateValue. Well, awesomely written, the fact that you are dead is not awesome.
Whoever the serial killer is, leave the poor man alone. He deserves to win just once. Or at least survive the first few.
YOU HAVE A BAD CONNECTION!sky14kemea said:
I think he's talking about Nuke.CounterAttack said:
chromewarriorXIII said:
Thanks guys.rhyno435 said:
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Is it just me, or is it a bit quiet around here?
Yeah I knows, its even quieter that my round :0
Have people been voting? Maybe he doesn't have enough votes? D:
Have people been voting? Maybe he doesn't have enough votes? D: