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A Mysterious Message! A new skin has been added in honor of the season! Also, Brackenridge Manor has opened it's doors! The butler has some words of warning for you. Cordially, Icarus
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| Tunnel of stone; WoD closed | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 20 2005, 11:05 PM (170 Views) | |
| Mr. Trout | Jul 20 2005, 11:05 PM Post #1 |
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Henshin boogy
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They traveled rarely as a pack their visage disgusting even their own kind but in these nights of turmoil they had little choice but to follow each other. Those whose arms werent some tattered mass of useless skin held weapons, held the guns built by faith no more to defeat the wild animals that would surely come for their pound of putrid undead flesh. A manhole to the sewers shook and rattled a wave of guns moving up to point at that small two and a half foot round piece of metal, it was a small rat that wandered down, a rat that instead of being shot was grabbed by a skeletal hand with three fingers to creative a vice grip and bring the little creature to be pushed onto jagged tusks and fangs feasting on rotten animal blood. "T-t-t-that was unnecessary." A split tongue made it hard to talk but in his own strange voice but this sewer dwelling Nosferatu was afraid that if he stopped using it his mouth might stop working and knowing his clan it might just be the most articulate man they had. They got a few seconds of peace and continued on their way before the scrapping came, the talons tearing stone and shearing metal, it made those peeled and pointed ears of the vampires crawl and turn about with fear, yes this group of nightmarish monsters was afraid of their only natural enemy, the only foe that the world had thrown at them besides themselves. Muscle surrounded by dark fur, horrible beasts filling the sewers with unnatural mass, was it cruel when they descended down on the back of the vampire group tearing three from limb to limb with only a lycan hand cut by the try pronged mouth of some other infernal disgust. It took seconds for the vampires to return control and fire a hail of their new bullets into the lycan threat, the lycans had not seen the devastation created by them yet and soon learned the heard way when a bullet flew across and entered the lycan body in the right side of his body piercing the flesh just above the lung, he recoiled as he saw the red blood, his eyes went wide when he felt the pop that tore open his insides and screamed in pain as the streaks of silver filled his lung, his blood stream and a small trickle came out the hole where he had been shot. One was unlucky enough to catch one of these bullets in the head the pop taking out the entire appendage and the furry beast fell backwards limp and dead. Little bullets wouldn’t stop the rage these beasts felt, they charged forward as if the devil himself was at their heels cursing and smacking them with a whip made of their father’s hide. A few disfigured fiends whose legs wouldn’t work fast enough to drag them away were quickly caught in fangs and teeth their already battered flesh being torn apart. Ah but the Nosferatu were not common cannon fodder and rarely stayed to fight like other clans, these disgusted and monstrous fools melted into the shadows, hid from the feeble dangling light gathering the darkness about them like a security blanket. The beasts slowed their heavy breath causing a thick blanket of gross sickly fog that smelt of burnt fur and rotting flesh, how could the immortals stand it? To be so close to that smell, that disgusting air wafting into their noses and they had to stand still, to pretend not to be there, to let the muzzles of those beasts pass right over their body, that wasnt the worst part of their torture, the worst part was sitting there knowing, hearing the knew scrapping, boots sloshing through sewer water the scrapping of steel against the stone walls. Whatever was coming was something that made the lycans turn their heads and stare raising their claws in hopes of holding their own and keeping these dead monsters as trophies. What they saw was three well dressed men, one wore sunglasses, black shades that were obviously on the pricey side, a suit and a fancy red tie as well. The other two wore trench coats of different shades of gray, one held out a shotgun the other held the old eastern style sword with a bent blade that seared the walls. If there was fear in any of them it didnt show, the lycans had a great deal to be afraid of from these three as did the disfigured bloodsuckers. One of the Nosferatu raised a gun from his hiding spot aimed at the three intruders and fired, the little firefly of pain and fury moved closer and closer the world slowing down and the open blade flicked with his wrist swatting the fireflies and staring as they hit they made small pops a flash of red light and the walls became smeared with a light coat of silvery goop, the shotgun twitched and fired the blood splatter appearing on the sewer walls far before the body faded into view the twisted remains of an already butchered body. The three were Oriental vampires, cruel beasts that had come for more then just blood; they wanted your very soul for stepping on the island and as they walked forward that’s what they came to claim, they tore the lycans’ arms out of their sockets forcing their hands into the faces of those beasts turning the insides into quite simply raw meat. So the butchery began, before an hour passed the sewer hall was full of dead and only one survivor, one Nosferatu called Jose who was there, standing incased in fear behind metal boxes his body as invisible as he could make it as he watched the slaughter of his fellow clansmen, he limped and skittered away from the mayhem once he saw that all the immortals who had fought hadn’t even injured a single member of those three, they were new players in this night time game and Jose would have to tell someone if only for them to distract the beasts so that his hide might remain in tact. |
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9:38 AM Jul 11