“Aah, the sweet smell of blood…” Estelle said serenely as she dipped a paintbrush into a bowl of thick, red liquid, painting it on a bush of white roses.
“…Uhh, Is that blood that you’re painting with?!” Myka asked, eyes widened.
“No duh, what else?” Estelle replied back in a serious tone, finishing up the last rose. She smelled them all. “Delicious blood. Smells so divine, tastes so rich and succulent…” She said calmly. Myka gagged, then choked, then coughed. Estelle turned to face her.
“If you don’t like what you see, move along,” Estelle said coldly. Myka quickly walked away, her hand to her mouth. When Estelle was done, she walked back home, carrying the bowl of blood, and her blood-drenched paintbrush. When she entered her warm and toasty residence, she picked up a box with a letter attached to it. Written on it was this message:
“Dear Estelle,
Your shipment of dynamite have just arrived. I dropped them off in the inside of your home. I have no clue what use they are going to be for you, but I found out that it isn’t good to snoop into somebody else’s business. Enjoy.
Regards,
Scar Von Cleave.”
Estelle ripped open the box and found her pack of dynamite. She smirked sinisterly.
“Perfect,” Estelle said quietly. She snuck the explosive outside and drove to Town Square. When she got there, she threw the pack in the middle of the street and ran away a few paces before watching the devastating explosion. Cars flew into the air and fell on pedestrians, buildings toppled down and landed on trees and many other things, and citizens laid on the streets, limp. The sound of sirens echoed from a distance, and Estelle ran away, cackling evilly.
As she returned to her homestead, she prepared her master plan. She closed the blinds of the windows, she locked and barricaded the doors to prevent them from being kicked to the floor by SWAT teams, and she turned off every single hint of electricity she can find: Radios, Computers, Televisions, Lamps, Microwaves, Ovens, Heaters…Soon enough, all was quiet.
An indistinct voice was heard behind the front door, but Estelle remained quiet. Before they broke the door down, she quickly poured gas oil on every floor inside the house. She lit up a match, and threw it at the oil, starting a fire. The door was kicked multiple times, causing the planks to fall off, one-by-one. Soon enough, the locks were disabled when the door was kicked down, and Estelle rushed to find a hiding place.
The men were coughing and choking, and from minute-to-minute, each one died. Only a few remained as they searched every room that had been ignited with fire. Estelle stayed silent as she hid in the basement, but soon enough, the wires of the furnace started crackling. Soon enough, the furnace exploded all-together, causing a massive fire in the area.
The explosion was heard from the upper floor, and the men rushed down. Estelle was hidden well, but a man finally found her. Estelle elbowed him and he fell into the fire, his body decaying, turning into a burnt body of ashes. The same happened to the other two men--Their bones crunching, their shrill shrieking, and their eyes wide open. Estelle ran upstairs and found that a fire blocked her path.
“Help!” She screamed multiple times, but nobody came to her rescue. Soon enough, the fire devoured her, and she, too, had died, turning into a decaying body of ashes. The firemen arrived a few minutes late after her death, washing away the strong, burning fire with their hoses. Estelle’s crimes have all come to an end. No more fires, explosions, puddles of blood…It seems that karma took a bite out of her, just like it had with Ferricus.
A few years later, Myka was searching through a box of Estelle’s trinkets and Twinkie-dinkies--until she found a list with the label, ‘Targets’ on the top. Below the label was a list of names that Estelle vowed to kill off:
Ferricus Von Cleave
Myka Hyne
Anaya Sullivan
Midasu Von Cleave
Scar Von Cleave
Nazo Van Deurrsen
But there were a lot of names that were written in the piece of paper, Myka couldn’t count the number of targets. She just crumpled the paper and threw it away--It’s too bad that she is unaware that Estelle’s own spirit is still watching and waiting, planning to kill off all the targets on the list--Especially since Myka’s the next target.
“…Uhh, Is that blood that you’re painting with?!” Myka asked, eyes widened.
“No duh, what else?” Estelle replied back in a serious tone, finishing up the last rose. She smelled them all. “Delicious blood. Smells so divine, tastes so rich and succulent…” She said calmly. Myka gagged, then choked, then coughed. Estelle turned to face her.
“If you don’t like what you see, move along,” Estelle said coldly. Myka quickly walked away, her hand to her mouth. When Estelle was done, she walked back home, carrying the bowl of blood, and her blood-drenched paintbrush. When she entered her warm and toasty residence, she picked up a box with a letter attached to it. Written on it was this message:
“Dear Estelle,
Your shipment of dynamite have just arrived. I dropped them off in the inside of your home. I have no clue what use they are going to be for you, but I found out that it isn’t good to snoop into somebody else’s business. Enjoy.
Regards,
Scar Von Cleave.”
Estelle ripped open the box and found her pack of dynamite. She smirked sinisterly.
“Perfect,” Estelle said quietly. She snuck the explosive outside and drove to Town Square. When she got there, she threw the pack in the middle of the street and ran away a few paces before watching the devastating explosion. Cars flew into the air and fell on pedestrians, buildings toppled down and landed on trees and many other things, and citizens laid on the streets, limp. The sound of sirens echoed from a distance, and Estelle ran away, cackling evilly.
As she returned to her homestead, she prepared her master plan. She closed the blinds of the windows, she locked and barricaded the doors to prevent them from being kicked to the floor by SWAT teams, and she turned off every single hint of electricity she can find: Radios, Computers, Televisions, Lamps, Microwaves, Ovens, Heaters…Soon enough, all was quiet.
An indistinct voice was heard behind the front door, but Estelle remained quiet. Before they broke the door down, she quickly poured gas oil on every floor inside the house. She lit up a match, and threw it at the oil, starting a fire. The door was kicked multiple times, causing the planks to fall off, one-by-one. Soon enough, the locks were disabled when the door was kicked down, and Estelle rushed to find a hiding place.
The men were coughing and choking, and from minute-to-minute, each one died. Only a few remained as they searched every room that had been ignited with fire. Estelle stayed silent as she hid in the basement, but soon enough, the wires of the furnace started crackling. Soon enough, the furnace exploded all-together, causing a massive fire in the area.
The explosion was heard from the upper floor, and the men rushed down. Estelle was hidden well, but a man finally found her. Estelle elbowed him and he fell into the fire, his body decaying, turning into a burnt body of ashes. The same happened to the other two men--Their bones crunching, their shrill shrieking, and their eyes wide open. Estelle ran upstairs and found that a fire blocked her path.
“Help!” She screamed multiple times, but nobody came to her rescue. Soon enough, the fire devoured her, and she, too, had died, turning into a decaying body of ashes. The firemen arrived a few minutes late after her death, washing away the strong, burning fire with their hoses. Estelle’s crimes have all come to an end. No more fires, explosions, puddles of blood…It seems that karma took a bite out of her, just like it had with Ferricus.
A few years later, Myka was searching through a box of Estelle’s trinkets and Twinkie-dinkies--until she found a list with the label, ‘Targets’ on the top. Below the label was a list of names that Estelle vowed to kill off:
Ferricus Von Cleave
Myka Hyne
Anaya Sullivan
Midasu Von Cleave
Scar Von Cleave
Nazo Van Deurrsen
But there were a lot of names that were written in the piece of paper, Myka couldn’t count the number of targets. She just crumpled the paper and threw it away--It’s too bad that she is unaware that Estelle’s own spirit is still watching and waiting, planning to kill off all the targets on the list--Especially since Myka’s the next target.
Hercul retired from he warrior status to live on as one of the dragon elders.
Hercul is a very wise dragon with knowledge that no other dragon seems to understand besides his grandson, Drakero. He can be intimidating upon site, but he is actually a kind man. He loves to light incenses in his house, but dislike the taste of cherries.
Despite his age, and not being as good as he was in his prime, Hercul can hold his own in a fight. Like his son Almaldo, and grandson, Drakero, Hercul is freakishly strong. He can bench press up to 20 tons.
(In other words, Hercul don't play)
I have to use a friends computer to type this because my other one if filled with viruses....I wont be continuing the Virus9073-AD story until it's fix or I get a loner laptop from the library. So if you are reading it please forgive me for not sending chapter two yet. Also, I also curse writers block for getting me stuck on one particular part of the story so If I do get a loner, it may take me a little while to figure out something to write. I guess it's just school that stresses me out. Haha!
The bed wheels squeaked on the floor. Was windy awake? She couldn't be sure. Oh god... was she dying? NO. She couldn't give up now. not with so much on the line. The wheels seemed to squeak even louder, ringing and ringing, until she could hear nothing but the bells of hevean in front of her face. This was the end, wasn't it?
Suddenly, spike appeared in front of her, and splashed a bit of water on her face.
"You okay?" he asked.
"no...no what's going on?"
Spike gave no answer. He nodded at kitty to signal for her to leave and get to the escape route.
"We're only trying to help, Windy."
He picked her up from the bed and sped off into the distance. The other three were waiting outside as they placed her in a van. After that, everything went black.
Suddenly, spike appeared in front of her, and splashed a bit of water on her face.
"You okay?" he asked.
"no...no what's going on?"
Spike gave no answer. He nodded at kitty to signal for her to leave and get to the escape route.
"We're only trying to help, Windy."
He picked her up from the bed and sped off into the distance. The other three were waiting outside as they placed her in a van. After that, everything went black.
Gizbin:
I am the one who rules,
I seem to think nothing is stronger than me.
But there is one thing what is even more powerful,
That is the one word named: ℓσνє
Ribbon:
I may of broken a heart,
and I knew this from the start.
But I could never of broken the arrow what struck through mine.
Albion:
Why is my life as a sheriff?
Why do I waist my time in this job?
Why would I even write a poem about it?
And even worse! Why am I a snob?!
Flame:
MY BROTHER IS NOTHING BUT A IDIOT. (lol)
I am the one who rules,
I seem to think nothing is stronger than me.
But there is one thing what is even more powerful,
That is the one word named: ℓσνє
Ribbon:
I may of broken a heart,
and I knew this from the start.
But I could never of broken the arrow what struck through mine.
Albion:
Why is my life as a sheriff?
Why do I waist my time in this job?
Why would I even write a poem about it?
And even worse! Why am I a snob?!
Flame:
MY BROTHER IS NOTHING BUT A IDIOT. (lol)