Okay! I'm making this short and sweet, I'm sailor saijin, and in today's
story, I'm making a music thingy, the song will go in order and the
characters will say the words, but the refrain can come in anytime, and
maybe some sentence's from it you'll never see.
Oh, and I'm going to have NC-17 stories on my profile area to, maybe yaoi, probably the all-time fav. Valdemar couple, guess folks you all know... The Companion toiled faster down the gravel trodden road. Quicker! His mind screamed as his body ached infernally. Already, the wound sizzled with wild fire from an arrow that had pierced his chest. He was hit, but he must go on, this was important. His time had come to chose. The freedom leapt from his chest giving him energy. He would never fail! He was a mighty Companion of Valdemar, the bow of the Queen's Arrows!
Grendin watched the bandits ransack the caravan with disgust. They were unorganized and stupid. Too bad stupid didn't matter when you had numbers. The bandit leader strode mighty and proud on his horse, but it was all a mask. Grendin had cut down many a robber like him, and had seen the fear in his eyes that held them frozen when they feel under him. Deep instincts told their mind that his body was dead, that Grendin's eyes were the eyes of Hell herself, lover of the darkness come to claim their unclean soul.
Having rudimentary mind speech, Grendin heard most of their thoughts before they died. Each time the same thing they would say in their minds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." On and on the thought went, till Grendin drifted from the spirit world back to reality. Each death took a little out of him. It was as if he died partially with their admittance of sins. Then their memories came, pieces of the women they had loved or raped, riches lost and gained. But you don't feel the pain, he thought madly. "Too much is not enough," he choked as he dropped his weapon on the fallen leader's chest. He never remembered following these bandits. It was as if his mind blocked the easy part out. But then almost as if a cloth were lifted, he saw his own hands and arms swing down on that person. The blood coating his hands as he feel to his knees sobbing. It wasn't him his heart cried in vain. He would never murder these people. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Why? WHY? Why must he kill, even those as un-innocent as a pimp and his whore. Everything always seemed the same. And the other thing in his life, his past. Nothing wiped away clean. Nothing there, nothing seen, nothing heard. He remembered That day very well; waking up on the street, hearing babble, speaking babble, naked as the day he was born, though the term "born" meant nothing to him at the time, nor did nudity pose any threat to his self-confidence when others traversing the trade rout gave him odd looks. "Nobody said this stuff makes any sense," Grendin cleaned his sword on the bandit's cloak and looked about the camp. Everyone was dead, slashed by a mad man. One of his muscle's cramped uncomfortably, and he knew all this massacre had come form him. He looked at his clenched white hand and watched a single tear hit the ground.
All right!!! I know its not really starting with Valdemar, but next chapter, the Companion decides to make an entrance, and a very big one at that..
Oh, and I'm going to have NC-17 stories on my profile area to, maybe yaoi, probably the all-time fav. Valdemar couple, guess folks you all know... The Companion toiled faster down the gravel trodden road. Quicker! His mind screamed as his body ached infernally. Already, the wound sizzled with wild fire from an arrow that had pierced his chest. He was hit, but he must go on, this was important. His time had come to chose. The freedom leapt from his chest giving him energy. He would never fail! He was a mighty Companion of Valdemar, the bow of the Queen's Arrows!
Grendin watched the bandits ransack the caravan with disgust. They were unorganized and stupid. Too bad stupid didn't matter when you had numbers. The bandit leader strode mighty and proud on his horse, but it was all a mask. Grendin had cut down many a robber like him, and had seen the fear in his eyes that held them frozen when they feel under him. Deep instincts told their mind that his body was dead, that Grendin's eyes were the eyes of Hell herself, lover of the darkness come to claim their unclean soul.
Having rudimentary mind speech, Grendin heard most of their thoughts before they died. Each time the same thing they would say in their minds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." On and on the thought went, till Grendin drifted from the spirit world back to reality. Each death took a little out of him. It was as if he died partially with their admittance of sins. Then their memories came, pieces of the women they had loved or raped, riches lost and gained. But you don't feel the pain, he thought madly. "Too much is not enough," he choked as he dropped his weapon on the fallen leader's chest. He never remembered following these bandits. It was as if his mind blocked the easy part out. But then almost as if a cloth were lifted, he saw his own hands and arms swing down on that person. The blood coating his hands as he feel to his knees sobbing. It wasn't him his heart cried in vain. He would never murder these people. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Why? WHY? Why must he kill, even those as un-innocent as a pimp and his whore. Everything always seemed the same. And the other thing in his life, his past. Nothing wiped away clean. Nothing there, nothing seen, nothing heard. He remembered That day very well; waking up on the street, hearing babble, speaking babble, naked as the day he was born, though the term "born" meant nothing to him at the time, nor did nudity pose any threat to his self-confidence when others traversing the trade rout gave him odd looks. "Nobody said this stuff makes any sense," Grendin cleaned his sword on the bandit's cloak and looked about the camp. Everyone was dead, slashed by a mad man. One of his muscle's cramped uncomfortably, and he knew all this massacre had come form him. He looked at his clenched white hand and watched a single tear hit the ground.
All right!!! I know its not really starting with Valdemar, but next chapter, the Companion decides to make an entrance, and a very big one at that..