Disclaimor: I dun own MapleStory, 'cause it belongs to Nexon, Wizet, AsiaSoft... The list could go on and on...
A/N: Written while I was on a hyper-spree and when I suspected one of my friends hates me nows for making fun of him too much. I still do, too.
Completely a crack fic, don't read unless you're sadistic or is in the mood for some dark stuff and violence and hate and all those other things which makes my whole world bright when I think of them. (Cough) Annnyways, onto the story...
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...If you dare.
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Frustration.
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Anger, Rage, Fury, Frustration.
An arrow whizzed through the air, imedding itself into the dead center of a well-worn bullseye. From the direction said arrow had originated from, the twang of a bowstring could be heard. A blue bow, Marine Arund to be exact, was held in the hand of the arrow's master, a deep frown fixed upon his face. Bowstring still vibrating, he wasted no time to grab another arrow from the quiver secured onto his back, and nocked it into the bow.
Annoyance, Irritation, Aggravation, Frustration.
'What the hell did I do this time?' He thought, the frown deepening into a scowl. 'I merely say one comment, and he blows up on me! The jerk!' Another arrow sped towards the target, a blue-ish flame scorching it as it reached. Less than a second later, another one of the projectiles settled itself beside the first.
Rash, Reckless, Heedless, Frustration.
Groping around for another arrow, he found but only one left. A flash of annoyance flash across his eyes, as he pulled it out, nocked it into the deep blue colored bow, power and mana can almost been visibly seen, leaving his body and transfering to the arrow, a golden hue washing over it. Pulling the bow string back tighter, he ran his thumb over the stiff feathers attached to the butt of the dart. His eyes narrowed, a steady, calculating gaze sttruck the "prey". He then proceeded to pull the string back even further.
Bitterness, Distress, Pain, Frustration.
Still unsatisfied with the power placed behind the arrow, he pulled it back even further, too deafened by his own thoughts to hear the bow's silent whimpering. No longer able to take the stress, and giving it's last cry, the bowstring snapped, also snapping it's own out of his own little world. Caught by surprise for a moment, both ends of the string whipped at his arms, cutting through the fabric of his sleeves like a hot knife through butter, leaving in it's trails scars which will last forever. Before he could even begin to feel the burn-like pains on his limbs, the arrow flew towards him, the cold iron tip nicking the flesh just underneath his right eye, slicing past the rest of his cheek and ear, imbedding itself right behind the archer. Soon came the warmth of the crimson blood and it's iron smell. He fell to his knees, head hanging low, hair shadowing over his face, and the crimson liquid trickling down forming a small puddle.
Frustration isn't such a easy emotion to get rid of, after all.
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A/N: ...Like I said,that was completely illogical and crack-ish... o.O And it was also somehow written while I was eating poprocks. As you may have noticed, neither the main character and the guy he mentions have names, but hey, I'm just responsible for writing this thing, the names can be whatever you wish... Maybe even Bob and George. xD ((C) Dave Anez) And the two people's relationship is yours to imagine, as well, but if it turns out to be yoai/homosexual... Well, let's just say it's what I keep AK-47s and Tranquilizers for. Oh, and to mai MS buddehs who're reading this, yes, the cold iron thing was intentional.
