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"SSC29 - Necrotica"

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Sat 16/07/05 at 11:57
"Darkness, always"
Posts: 9,603
This is actually an exerpt from a larger piece, which I will post separately.


----------------------------

“The House welcomes you,” he said “honoured patron.”
“I am no customer of yours, you filthy dog.” Peter snapped. The boy raised his head slightly at the severity of the reply. His lips looked about to crack as he mouthed the word ‘dog’ in reply. “Stand aside,” he continued “I’m here to see your mistress.” The last word was an envenomed sneer, as he stepped forward, not waiting for the lad to move.

And the boy did not move. After two strides, Peter was face to face with him. Without slowing down, he brushed a thick arm across the frail half-man’s chest and he was flung to the ground. He couldn’t resist shouting a curse after him as he fell.

“You filthy cur!” he slammed “Your Hell bound soul will pay an eternity for your stupidity!”

He strode forward, and began to take in the décor as he did so. Everything was made to look as classical as possible here on the inside. It was the image of a Victorian noble’s mansion. No doubt made to look so to fit with the foolish romantic notion the club’s patrons fantasised of. Ahead of him stood a flight of red carpeted stairs leading towards what he expected would be the ‘chambers’, where every form of unholy union he couldn’t bring himself to imagine would occur on a nightly basis. Yet still he strode towards them. Only the sound of delirious cackling from behind stopped him from darting straight up them. He stopped and turned to see the boy he had thrown, up on his hands and knees. His body rocked as his laughter seemed to tear his body apart from within. His voice was like sandpaper as he started babbling nonsensically.

“Dog!” the boy exclaimed “Dog for the Bell!” and a wave of what might have been laughter rocked him again before he continued. “Hell bound bell hound!” He cried. Then he fell silent, and raised his head to stare directly at Peter. The boy’s face looked suddenly confused as he said quietly “Bell…hound?”

Peter felt bile rise to his throat. The boy was delirious, sick and probably dying before he had even had chance to live. Vampires had done this to him, and any number of others. Their continued existence was an effrontery to all mankind, and if he ever got the chance, he would slay every single one of them.
Sun 17/07/05 at 14:29
Regular
"spongemycarpetydont"
Posts: 536
Ummm...Meka. To get the full effect, use some of these:
:D XD !) ;) LOL!!!11 l^) and so on
Sat 16/07/05 at 13:25
Regular
"not dead"
Posts: 11,145
Huh? WTF???

You allready posted sum off this!!111!

I bet U only didit to get UR word count up!!111111!!
Sat 16/07/05 at 12:47
"Darkness, always"
Posts: 9,603
Still, entertaining enough.
Sat 16/07/05 at 12:32
Regular
Posts: 3,182
SSC 29 is a sham by the pesky Memo.
Sat 16/07/05 at 11:57
"Darkness, always"
Posts: 9,603
This is actually an exerpt from a larger piece, which I will post separately.


----------------------------

“The House welcomes you,” he said “honoured patron.”
“I am no customer of yours, you filthy dog.” Peter snapped. The boy raised his head slightly at the severity of the reply. His lips looked about to crack as he mouthed the word ‘dog’ in reply. “Stand aside,” he continued “I’m here to see your mistress.” The last word was an envenomed sneer, as he stepped forward, not waiting for the lad to move.

And the boy did not move. After two strides, Peter was face to face with him. Without slowing down, he brushed a thick arm across the frail half-man’s chest and he was flung to the ground. He couldn’t resist shouting a curse after him as he fell.

“You filthy cur!” he slammed “Your Hell bound soul will pay an eternity for your stupidity!”

He strode forward, and began to take in the décor as he did so. Everything was made to look as classical as possible here on the inside. It was the image of a Victorian noble’s mansion. No doubt made to look so to fit with the foolish romantic notion the club’s patrons fantasised of. Ahead of him stood a flight of red carpeted stairs leading towards what he expected would be the ‘chambers’, where every form of unholy union he couldn’t bring himself to imagine would occur on a nightly basis. Yet still he strode towards them. Only the sound of delirious cackling from behind stopped him from darting straight up them. He stopped and turned to see the boy he had thrown, up on his hands and knees. His body rocked as his laughter seemed to tear his body apart from within. His voice was like sandpaper as he started babbling nonsensically.

“Dog!” the boy exclaimed “Dog for the Bell!” and a wave of what might have been laughter rocked him again before he continued. “Hell bound bell hound!” He cried. Then he fell silent, and raised his head to stare directly at Peter. The boy’s face looked suddenly confused as he said quietly “Bell…hound?”

Peter felt bile rise to his throat. The boy was delirious, sick and probably dying before he had even had chance to live. Vampires had done this to him, and any number of others. Their continued existence was an effrontery to all mankind, and if he ever got the chance, he would slay every single one of them.

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