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 Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 8:50 am
Hello all! Some of you may have read my last story, and some of probably havent. (For those of you who havent, you can go read it here: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=8381759 )
Same thing as last time! Read and review! Leave a comment, say what needs fixing, what you liked, what you didnt like, and a possible title suggestion. Im still stuck on that...
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 8:51 am
A scream pierced the night and a hand flew over the mouth from which it had come from. “Shh, now,” said a voice quietly into the dark. “No need to wake the neighbors.” You could almost hear the humor in the voice however pained it may have been.
The girl struggled to free herself to no avail. The hands holding her were too strong; her frail body shook with terror.
The man standing over her picked her off her bed-making sure to keep one hand over her mouth and the other holding her arms to her side- and walked to the door. Using his foot, he pushed it open and slipped out into the hallway, shutting it carefully behind him. The girl kicked and flailed, muffled noises coming through the man’s hand. Her eyes were squeezed tight, but tears of anger and panic still managed to slip through and run down her face.
“Now, I’m going to set you right outside this window. You make one noise; take one step out of line…” He set the girl on the floor so he could have his hands free to open the window and pulled a knife from the inside of his jacket. He held the knife up for both to see; the moonlight glinted off the blade. He turned it in his hand and examined the edge; the girl was too terrified to move, to even scream. “Well, we’ll think of something to do.” The man put the knife back inside his jacket pocket before opening the window and picking the girl up. He grinned down at her, his twisted sneer shining in the pale light. “Come, now, darling. We’re going to be late!” he whispered in a harsh tone. The girl just nodded weakly as the man picked her up once again and slipped out the window.
The girl cried silently in the arms of the man who had captured her as he carried her farther and farther into the woods. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of discomfort in the man’s arms, the girl felt ground beneath her as she was set in the middle of a clearing. She looked up at him; pain, disgust, anger played across her face. The man turned and went to the edge of the clearing, then came back. He looked as if he was thinking hard about something, his hand on his chin, his other folded across his chest, his eyes on the ground.
The girl stood up quickly and faced the man, demanding he take her home this instant. The second she was up, the man pulled his knife and held it steadily at her throat. His burning eyes said all that needed to be said. The girl gulped and took a step back, then slid down against the tree she had run into. On the ground, she looked up at the man, her hand rubbing her throat where the knife point had just been. His grim thinking expression had turned into a mixture of loss and humor.
A few moments passed; a laugh interrupted the quiet. “Darling dearest,” he said gently, standing over the frightened girl, but not looking at her, instead his eyes were on the knife, turning in his hands. He started laughing, an insane laugh that echoed throughout the clearing. The girl flinched back against the trunk of the tree expecting the worse to follow. “Lie down!” he yelled suddenly, filling the clearing yet again with noise.
Nodding, the girl did what she was told and shakily laid back on the ground. The cold of the ground crept into her back making her shiver slightly. She bit her bottom lip and blinked away the tears that had slowed their fall.
The man kneeled down beside her and chuckled. “Now, now, darling. Don’t worry…no pain, promise,” he whispered as he brushed away a strand of hair from her for head. He ran the tip of a finger from the corner of her eye, down her jaw line, and ended at the corner of her mouth. The girl’s whole body shook from fear and she turned her head to the side to get away from the man’s touch.
The man tensed and frowned and just barely stopped himself from killing her then and there. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the man forced himself to calm down then gently turned the girl’s head back toward him. Her eyes were pleading, yet a hint of disgust for what he was doing to her shone there. He loved it. He smiled to himself then drew his blade once more. The moonlight reflected off of it, a silver flash against a dark figure and the girl tried to press herself against the ground, the only way she saw to hide.
“Tell me…” he whispered, trailing the tip of the knife along the path his finger had taken only a moment before. The clearing seemed to hush, making his voice seem louder. “Tell me darling, what you fear most.”
She could find no voice to speak, just barely able to mouth the words “I don’t know”. She recoiled from the man’s angry laughter again.
“You don’t know? What a foolish answer!” he sneered and pressed the tip of he blade into the girls cheek and drew a slightly slanted line. The girl closed her eyes tight and clenched her fists and let out a small grunt of pain. His wild eyes dimmed, his voice quieted. “I fear loosing those I love. But no one has that fear. Not until they experience themselves. Tell me,” He moved the point of the knife so it was across from where his first cut was and pressed it firmly into her skin. His voice was still quiet, but raised high with hysteria. “Tell me. Do you know what its like to loose someone close to you?!”
She squeaked out a small “no” and her eyes watered a bit when he pressed the knife blade in harder. This seemed to amuse him.
The man drew another line, ending it at the bottom of the other line, forming a little V of blood. He moved the knife to her throat. His eyes were cloudy and dull, yet still managed to glow with excitement in the moonlight. He let out a murmur of comfort then said, “No, you don’t. And you never will. I’m saving you, darling, saving you from the pain that you would someday face.” He smiled, though, this time it was not a sneer, but a smile of a man who truly thought what he was doing was for the better. But that changed in a moment. The twisted sneer covered the caring smile and he pressed the blade into her throat. “Goodbye, love,” he whispered, then dragged the knife across her throat, leaving a ragged line of dark red flowing down the curve of her neck and shoulder.
He stood up and looked at his blade, bloodstained. Disgusting, he thought, then bent down to wipe the mess on the night gown of the girl. Satisfied with his clean knife, the man put it back in his pocket and walked to the edge of the clearing. He turned and faced the still body for the last time. The V on her cheek was black on white against her skin in the moonlight, her neck almost completely covered. With a last smirk and silent bout of insane laughter he stepped into the woods and disappeared, leaving the pale body under the tree, the image of perfection in his eyes.
Valcus clasped his hands behind his back and paced up and down the main hallway of the boarding house making sure everything was in order. Nodding and mumbling to himself as he went by each door and peeked in each room, he finally reached the end of the hallway where the maid stood with a worried look on her face. He stopped and nodded, giving silent permission to speak.
“S-sir,” she stuttered out, her hands wringing the corner of her apron, “Sir, one of the girls…”
“Out with it, woman!” Valcus spat. He didn’t have time for such nonsense. He tapped his foot impatiently, assuming one of the girls had fallen out of line, or something along those lines.
The maid nodded frantically and set her eyes upon the ground. “She’s gone missing, sir. One of the girls, she’s gone missing. The girl in the next over said she heard a scream; said she thought it was one of the little ones. She said-”
Valcus frowned and threw his hands up. “I DON’T CARE WHAT SHE SAID!” he yelled, and resisted a strong urge to strike her. He took a deep breath and smoothed down his overcoat, and held his arms at his sides. Now he paced and spoke quietly, occasionally nibbling on his bottom lip. Finally he stopped and turned to the maid, who seemed to have cowered away from him. “When?”
“Last night, the girl in the next over said-”
He held up his hand and silenced her. “If anyone finds out where she is, have them report to me at once!” With that, he trudged off to his office, but turned to the maid once more. “Which girl?” he asked, as if he cared. A girl was a girl, just another spoiled p***k sent to the boarding house for summer by her parents.
The maid braced herself just incase Valcus decided to attack this time. “Annette…” She spoke softly; she knew Valcus had a soft spot her. She had heard him in his office, talking to himself as he wrote in his journal. He acted like he didn’t care about any of the girls, but she knew, and prayed that he didn’t know she knew, that he had taken a liking to Annette.
…she’s so much like Liz; too much. Her hair, her eyes…so much like Liz. The way she moves like the proper woman she is, yet you can still tell she would rather be outside playing as a kid would. I love her, but nothing can be done. I made a promise, a promise to love Liz for ever, no one else. But now that she’s gone…She had broken her promise, had she not? But as a gentleman, I must not break promises, even if I have had them broken over me. Liz hold’s my heart, but Annette holds my attention…
Valcus’s eyes went wide and was about to dispatch everyone from the boarding house to go look for her, but reminded himself to treat her as if he’d treat any other lost girl. Holding back his worries, he waved his hand indifferently and said simply “Send out a few girls to look for her. I’m sure she just found a suitor and had gone to meet him.”
The maid nodded and hurried off, leaving Valcus in a puddle of his thoughts and worries.
Valcus leaned over his desk, forehead in his hands, and kept telling himself over and over not to loose it. She was just another girl at the boarding house, nothing special. He wouldn’t care if anyone else had gone missing, so why care about her?
“I’ll tell you why,” he growled, standing up from his chair and faced the wall. With a sneer he continued. “Because you love her. She’s just like Liz, and you treat her as Liz. You…”
He turned and faced the other way. “You love her,” he stated flatly, then laughed a slightly irritated laugh. He took two steps forward, then turned again and started to talk again, but a knock at the door interrupted. He looked at the door, but didn’t answer. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not now, not till Annette was found…
The knock came again followed by the cautious voice of the maid. “Sir…It’s Annette. One of the girls found her. She-”
He rushed to the door and flung it open, breathing heavily, his eyes wild. “Where is she?!” he yelled to the whole of the boarding house as he stormed into the main room. “Where is Annette?”
One of the older girls, Julia, stepped forward, eyes down. “Master Valcus,” she said respectfully and did a small curtsey, “We found her…but I think it best you not see her.” Her voice was quiet with grief, which set Valcus to shaking to control what un-masculine tears he might shed.
He struggled to keep his voice steady. “Go on,” he commanded.
Julia looked up at him and barely squeaked out “She’s dead, sir.”
“Cut at the throat, sir; a letter carved above her cheek bone,” a girl in the back of the room said quite matter-of-factly.
Valcus frowned, glaring at the girl who had spoken. “Take me to her,” he demanded in a quiet, forceful voice, but never took his eyes off the girl who had so rudely described Annette’s condition.
“We think, sir, no disrespect, sir. We think that it really be best that you not see her,” Julia muttered, lowering her gaze back down to the floor.
“And why not, exactly?” he growled, lifting Julia’s chin up and forced his gaze upon her.
The girl who had spoken earlier piped up again, this time over excited. “She was torn apart by the wolves!” Then, with a second thought, she lowered her voice and added a “sir”.
Valcus, now almost foaming at the mouth out of anger, clenched his fists and said as calmly as he could, “I said, take me to her, dammit!”
Julia nodded and turned to the door, while the maid herded the other girls to the dining room to serve the evening meal.
Within a few minutes, Valcus and Julia emerged into a clearing, the setting sun casting a dusky light over everything. “Here, sir,” Julia said, pointing carefully to the still body in the middle of the clearing.
The body was almost unrecognizable; the blood, the flesh, just a muddled pile of human remains. Valcus shuddered and knelt beside Annette. He stared blankly at the pale body; the breeze stirred the hair that wasn’t matted with blood. The sound of a gunshot from long ago echoed though his head; a scream pierced through his skull. He shook his head and closed his eyes. The last time he was here, the last time he remembered being here, was when Liz died. This was just almost too much for him. He stood shakily and stepped over to the edge of the clearing. Jaw set, and tears held back, he choked out “Get her out of here.” With that, he was gone in the woods, heading in the opposite direction of the boarding house.
Valcus stuck his hand in his pocket and grabbed the silver ring he had carried with him ever since the day Liz had gone. He never went anywhere without it-never. He held it tightly against his chest; his heartbeats matched his quick pace as he walked along the road leading out of town, leading past the church where the young nuns often gathered.
Julia returned to the boarding house, the awful deed of moving Annette’s body was done, her hands washed and tears wiped away. She settled into bed just as the other girls had and turned off her lamp and buried her face in her pillow; she tried to muffle the sound of her sobs, but they blended into the night with everyone else’s.
The maid, after a few minutes, went to Valcus’s study and knocked quietly on the door. Upon hearing no reply, she assumed he was asleep, hunched over his journal with a pen in hand. She wiped her hands on her apron unconsciously and hurried off to the kitchen- it still had to be cleaned. She busied herself late into the night, the sobbing of the girls eventually faded, and the maid herself laid down to bed.
A darkened figure stopped in front of the church gate. It swung freely in the wind; the rusty noise it made eerie in the silent night. The soft glow of the candles in the church’s windows made the place more cheery, but the cemetery to the side still drew your attention. The moon shone through the trees surrounding the church making a dappled pattern on the ground, moving when the wind stirred the branches.
The figure stepped through the gate; each step taken made a silent crunch on the gravel. Going up the steps, the figure put something in its pants pocket, then reached into its jacked. A sleek blade was drawn and held down at the figure’s side. Candlelight glinted off the blade as the figure slid into the church. The main room was filled with pews and candles; the figure cast a long shadow down the aisle.
Ellen stirred in her sleep and then woke with a start. She fell asleep again! She shook her head, stood up, and stretched. “Silly Ellen,” she said, fingering the cross she wore around her neck. “You mustn’t fall asleep on your night to sit vigil.” She giggled silently to herself and went into the main room to warm her hands by the fire she was to keep going.
As she stepped into the main room of the church she let out a small gasp when she saw a man standing with his hands folded behind his back at the altar. She was surprised. Not too many people came in this late to pray, nor did the man look like he was here to pray. Maybe he was here because he had no where else to go? He did look a bit shaken.
“Sir, can I help you?” Her voice interrupted the quiet and the man turned his face in shadow against the candles.
“No,” he said silently. “I’m…just passing through.” He tucked his blade into his sleeve, hiding it from view.
“Oh.”
The man took a step toward her and held out a hand. “Have you any drink for a thirsty traveler?”
Ellen nodded cheerily and ran off to the kitchen. She returned shortly with water and bread and handed them to the man. She smiled at him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
The man nodded at the girl and sat down on a pew, sipping the water. “So what is a decent woman such as yourself doing up so late?” he asked casually, shifting a bit so the knife in his sleeve wouldn’t poke him.
Ellen sat down beside him and spoke quietly. “It is my night to sit vigil. We all take turns, staying up. We watch the church. You know, in case travelers like yourself, or late night prayers come in; we attend to them.” She made a gesture to the man’s bread and water.
The man nibbled on the bread, his water finished already. He set the bread down on the pew and looked up at the girl. “Is it me, tired and travel weary, or is it a bit stuffy in here?”
Ellen laughed her voice like a bell. “Oh, no. It is stuffy in here.”
“Might we go outside?”
Nodding, Ellen stood up and headed to the door, the man following. He opened the door for her, as a gentleman should, and waited for his turn to go through the doors. Delicately making her way down the steps, Ellen tripped. Fear of being caught, found out, the man grabbed her- one arm around her waist, the other flying over her mouth. He had her caught mid-scream, and stopped her before she could make enough noise to be heard. He quickly went down the rest of the steps and hurried through the cemetery and into the woods.
Ellen, getting over her shock of falling, started to kick and gave out muffle screams; the man tightened his grip. She clamped her jaw shut, digging her teeth into the man’s arms; he growled and pushed back against the girl, causing some discomfort. She squirmed some more, but grew tired as the cold of night and panic of being taken away into the woods set in.
The man kept walking, jaw set firm and his blade pressed into his arm as he held Ellen. He ignored it and trudged on through the woods, his mind set to one destination, with one goal. His arms grew weary and he shifted Ellen in his arms; she had long since passed out from fear and now hung limp in the man’s arms. A loud sigh interrupted the quiet, steady rhythm of steps as the man stepped into a moonlight clearing.
Ellen was set on the ground, and the man knelt beside her. She stirred, her head moved to the side and the man made soft shushing noises like those of a mother to her child. “Shhh, now. Rest while you can, your time is about to come.” His voice was assuring, but you could still hear the soft humor in it. Getting up, the man crossed the clearing, paused, and turned. “You know,” he whispered into the dark, “you are not the first to be saved.” He chuckled to himself as he remembered that this toy of his was a nun. “By me, of course,” he corrected, taking a few steps forward and motioning to himself. “Soon, you will be set free! Free of every promise ever made, every sin against Him. No needs to worry your darling little head, for you are to be set free.” He started with a whisper, but as he continued his voice rose with the sound of hysteria. His eyes shone in the pale light of the moon, his lips turned at the corners in a mocking jeer.
The man knelt down besides Ellen once again, smiling like a mad man. The smell of blood from the night before still stood in the small clearing. He cradled the girl’s head in his arms and slid the small blade from his sleeve. The moonlight reflected off the edge and shone delicately in his eyes. He pressed the blade into her skin and drew a line down her cheek. Ellen squirmed and woke with a piercing scream.
Startled, the man dropped his knife. As he reached for it, the Ellen tried to run and escape, but the man caught her by the ankle. She fell; her hand sliced on a rock hiding in the dirt. The man ignored the shining metal beside him and turned to Ellen.
“Now, be a dear and lay back down?”
Ellen shook her head and pulled her leg to break the man’s grip, but he held tight. She blinked, dislodging the tears that had been building up; they streaked down her face, mixing with blood.
Frowning, and then revising his words, the man smiled, but you could still here the sick enjoyment in his voice. “Behave, little one. Would you rather I spoil your innocence you’ve worked so hard to protect?”
Ellen made no attempt to answer, but tried to pull herself away. The man chuckled.
“Being the gentleman I am, I won’t disgrace you so. Please,” he held out his other hand and gestured to the ground, “Lie down.”
Ellen bit her bottom lip; small whimpering noises came from her. She cowered as if trying to make herself smaller, invisible, disappear into the woods. “Dear Lord! Oh, please…Do something… please, please do something.”
The man stopped what he was doing, his eyes went blank. A scene played before his eyes, a memory, one which he could not stop. A woman, fear in her eyes. A lover, her lover, sat beside her; his posture rigid as he sprang out of his chair to defend his bride. A sneer, a kiss, a shock of pain…
Ellen, confused by the sudden stillness, looked up. The man stared intently at nothing, emotions playing across his face- first jealousy, then amusement, pain. She, being the kind natured person she is, she was tempted to stay, to find out what was wrong, but shook her head. She got up, froze, and once she realized the man was too far gone to even see her, she ran across the clearing and crashed blindly into the woods.
She finally found a road and followed it into town, and eventually, found the church. The candles burned on in the windows as if she never left, like they didn’t know what horrors had filled her night. She hurried through the cemetery and up the steps and through the churches doors. She looked behind her to see if the man had followed, snapped out of his trance and pursued her. He hadn’t. She sent up a silent prayer and turned back around. She saw a figure standing at the altar. She stopped, her eyes wide, and screamed. How could he have gotten here before her?
Sister Mary spun around and gasped, then rushed to Ellen. “Good Heavens!” Her voice was that of an over-protective mother. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick! I came to check on you, and you were not here. I-” She stopped and took Ellen’s face in her hands and turned it. “My! What happened? You’ve a cut here!” She dug in her pocket for a handkerchief and wiped the blood from Ellen’s cheek.
Ellen quickly broke down into Sister Mary’s arms; her tears leaving a damp spot on the Sister’s shoulder.
Sister Mary put her arms around the crying girl and murmured some there-theres and everything’s going to be Okays. She led Ellen to a pew and sat her down. In a gentle voice she asked “What happened, Ellen? Where were you?”
Ellen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled. Taking a deep breath she began tell Sister Mary what had happened in utmost detail. After many more tears from Ellen, and encouragement from Sister Mary, the story was finished and Sister Mary let out a silent “Oh my.”
Sister Mary stood up and paced up and down the row of pews. “What to do? What can we do? She didn’t see his face…” She talked to no one but herself. Finally she stopped pacing and put her hands on Ellen’s shoulders; Ellen looked at her expectantly, her tears stained face shining in the candlelight.
“We will take you to a good friend of mine, she is the maid at the boarding house at the other end of time,” Sister Mary said and continued her pacing, though still spoke to Ellen. “She will know how to find the man who did that. Surely he was a criminal seeking sanctuary?” She directed the question to Ellen.
She shook her head. “No, I do not think so, Sister. He seemed tired, that’s all. But anyone awake at that hour I would expect to be.” She felt like she was making excuses for the man.
Sister Mary made shooing motions with her hands at Ellen. “To bed with you. There are not many hours of night left, and I think you should spend them in bed. I’ll take over.”
Ellen stood up and nodded then hurried off to the basement where her bed was waiting, leaving Sister Mary to pace the rest of the night away until dawn.
Valcus paced through the halls of the boarding house. He mumbled to himself. There was something, something, that had to be remembered, but what? He held his hands behind his back and steadily made his way to his study. He always thought better in there.
He just sat down at his desk and picked up his pen when he was interrupted, as usual, by a knocking at the door. “Come,” he said, opening his journal and put his pen to the paper.
The maid came peeked in. “Sir, you have a visitor.” She left quickly and escorted the guests to the main room.
Valcus came into the main room and took the hand of Sister Mary and kissed the back of it. “What a pleasure to have you.” He nodded to Ellen, who was staring at the floor away from him, but made no move to greet her, and then turned to Sister Mary. “Might I ask what brings you here?” He folded his hands behind is back and stood patiently waiting for the story.
“Well,” Sister Mary began, “Ellen, last night, well, I think it best you tell the story.” She looked to Ellen and put her hand on her shoulder in encouragement.
Ellen looked up to the maid, saw concern in her face. The she looked up to Valcus, his eyes cold, he looked annoyed. She looked away quickly, something about him made her uneasy. She didn’t speak yet; she still tried to find her voice.
“Last night…” Ellen began, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She looked from Sister Mary to the maid, and then to Valcus. Something in her mind clicked; he looked so familiar. “You,” she whispered. She sprang to her feet, her eyes wide. “YOU!” She yelled this time.
Valcus smiled a bit and laughed. “Me? Yes, yes, me. Now sit down, please. You are still a bit shaken from last night- which, by the way, you have yet to tell us about.”
Ellen shook her head and shouted again. “Y-you tried to kill me! It was you! You were the man that came into the church last night!”
Valcus looked at Ellen and questioned her sanity. “Miss? Are you okay? Would you like some water?” He turned and left the room started for the kitchen. He heard her yelling and the sound of struggle as Sister Mary tried to put her back in her seat.
A strange feeling crept over him. Déjà vu. He shook his head and ignored it, but a scene played over in his head.
The smell of blood from the night before still stood in the small clearing.
Moonlight reflecting off steel.
Blood, then a scream.
Valcus turned on his heel and went to his study. Slamming the door, he caused the boarding house to rattle. He locked it. A loud click echoed in his mind. He hurried through his desk and grabbed his journal, then a pen.
He threw the journal open and rested his elbows on the pages, and held his head in his hands. A flood of memories came to him. The blood, the thrill…
He got up and paced wall to wall in his study. “How could I have? I was such the gentleman.” He turned and walked the other way.
“More than that, you are more than just a gentleman. You saved the one you loved, and you saved another. What more could just a gentleman do?” He turned again.
“I killed her! And I would have killed-” He turned suddenly again, cutting himself off.
“Ah, but you didn’t,” he sneered. “Though, it would have been much more satisfying if you had. The blood of a nun… Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? To save someone who has worked her whole life to be saved-” Again he turned, but went to his desk.
He sat silently for a moment, grieving the death of his love. The silence was broken by his insane laughter. His eyes were wild and he continued to laugh as he reached for his pen. He put the pen to the paper and began to write.
It seems as though I am not the gentleman I so though I was. I caused more pain than relief. But the pain I suffered two years ago was worse than what I have caused. Ellen’s life may have made it even, may have evened the score.
But I saved her, had I not? Annette. I had saved her from knowing the pain of loosing a loved one; saved her from knowing the heartache a broken promise causes…
Ellen…
I shall save Ellen soon. She is not hard to corner. She does not want to be saved; she thinks she does not want to be. But she does, oh she does! Why else be a nun? My job is to save her, and so I must.
Valcus’s eyes gleamed with hate, and at the same time, compassion. His pen scrolled across the pages as he finally realized what he had done. But he had no regrets. He sat in silence again.
His demented chuckling broke the silence yet again and he wrote one last thing in his journal.
They, who seek refuge upon the edge of sanity, take lives not for pleasure, but for necessity. Such situation is of dire necessity.
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Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 10:05 pm
Fasie the awful deed of moving Annette’s body was done, More like Annette's pile....*snickers* Poor Annette. Poor Valcus-Once again, I love my twisted endings. Very good, very good.
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Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 11:04 pm
xDD Im glad Im not the only one that is a Valcus fan. My mom keeps teling me he's come unhinged and I should have a different character. But without my Vally, who would I have?
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 1:26 pm
Unhinged? Never.
No one-exactly why Valcus stays where he is. 3nodding
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 2:37 pm
He shares the same train of thought that I have, 'cept I dont go out and act on such thoughts.
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 6:35 pm
Well, that's a relief.
You positive you haven't gone killing lately? Think hard, just to make sure. 3nodding
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 6:39 pm
Um...
Well, my neighbors disappeared and I had this suspicion that Ive forgotten something...
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 6:59 pm
*Looks around nervously*
Really now? And did these neighbors, uh, ever bother you in the slightest way?
*Edges back a bit*
Cookie? *Holds out platter*
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 9:57 am
The blasted dog of theirs barked all night! No worries now, though. He's gone too.
-shakes head- No, no. No cookie. Im still full from last nights extraordinary supper.
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 8:20 pm
Alrighty then.
If someone else's dog annoys you, well....
You can't really tell too much about what something is if it's fried.
Hm...I just got a story idea. XD
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 8:31 pm
Do tell! I wont steal it, promise! Cross the heart Im holding in my hand, and hope another innocent to die. xD
And Im a country folk with most of my relative from the south. Of course it was fried!
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 8:43 pm
Hehe, although your twist on the typical promise was very heartfelt, (and I assure you, it was), I'm afraid you have to wait. I'm typing it out at the moment, and I'll post it when I'm done, I promise.
Ah, well, that's good.
Oh, and I just remembered-meatloaf is such a nice, obscure dish as well.
Not that I mean anything by that.
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 9:43 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2007 10:07 pm
Well, now you can. XD
Really, though-Johnny the Squirrel cheered me up. I was about ready to tear my hair out because I was nearly done with my insane-level puzzle when this thing pops up and says "The connection to this server was lost. Please close this game and try again. Use 'save' while playing." stare
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