Im following Soda's lead in writing awful stories that make you all die a little inside =)
***
I was a surge of white fur, leaping across the roofs, searching for people in need of mercy.
All the wails of the homeless and poor rang out to me, as though hearing a young cub cry for help.
But they were not my priority tonight.
I heard a awful song from one house, and was reminded of the song I sung every time my father beat me.
I slipped through the chimmeny, unfased by the open flame I passed through.
The child lay wailing on the bed. The song just got louder as I approached.
"Just wait, dear," I whispered, mostly to myself. "Mercy shall come soon."
I unsheathed my knife, and made the motion of plunging it into the child's head, when I felt footsteps hammering against the floor. I quickly hid in the closet, and as the child turned its attention to my hiding place, a fat, ugly, drunken man came stumbling through the door. Immedialey the room stunk of old wine. The man forced the child onto the bed and did something so horrible, I swear I could feel a tear on my skin.
I came behind the man and plunged my knife beside his spine.
The man cried out in pain, and flung his arms around, trying to attack me.
But to no avail.
I drug the knife down his back, making a neat, verticle line.
The child was covered in the beast's blood. I threw the carcass aside and adressed the child.
"Who are you?" the child asked on the rooftop.
"I am Merci de Angelo," I replied. "The Angel of Mercy"
With the child on my back, we lept through the night, searching for others in need of Merci.
***
Did you die a little? A lot? Just tell me you died. Because this was mercy.
You do NOT want to see fury.
***
I was a surge of white fur, leaping across the roofs, searching for people in need of mercy.
All the wails of the homeless and poor rang out to me, as though hearing a young cub cry for help.
But they were not my priority tonight.
I heard a awful song from one house, and was reminded of the song I sung every time my father beat me.
I slipped through the chimmeny, unfased by the open flame I passed through.
The child lay wailing on the bed. The song just got louder as I approached.
"Just wait, dear," I whispered, mostly to myself. "Mercy shall come soon."
I unsheathed my knife, and made the motion of plunging it into the child's head, when I felt footsteps hammering against the floor. I quickly hid in the closet, and as the child turned its attention to my hiding place, a fat, ugly, drunken man came stumbling through the door. Immedialey the room stunk of old wine. The man forced the child onto the bed and did something so horrible, I swear I could feel a tear on my skin.
I came behind the man and plunged my knife beside his spine.
The man cried out in pain, and flung his arms around, trying to attack me.
But to no avail.
I drug the knife down his back, making a neat, verticle line.
The child was covered in the beast's blood. I threw the carcass aside and adressed the child.
"Who are you?" the child asked on the rooftop.
"I am Merci de Angelo," I replied. "The Angel of Mercy"
With the child on my back, we lept through the night, searching for others in need of Merci.
***
Did you die a little? A lot? Just tell me you died. Because this was mercy.
You do NOT want to see fury.
Ok... ask random questions about my friends. Now we have over 50 FCs with spare time. I'd be the host, unless something happens, Britney. My assist will be Shina the cat. Mainly you can ask any questions but we need a lot of them. So, from our gang will ask some too. Though, we could ended up not doing it. At least 20+ questions are needed for each time. Also, that the people will swich each time, so we will keep those noted. And you can ask what characters we have because you only know some of them. Cussing could be in the episodes. We are sorry if we coped another article from here or anywhere. So, tell us if the show will go on with a question, or if we stop here. Thank you for your time.
~Britney the hedgehog and Shina the cat, writers
~Britney the hedgehog and Shina the cat, writers
