It's A Long Story

I'm lost but I haven't moved an inch from where you left me. That's just it though, I'm lost because you left me. You left me here alone, heartlessly abandoning me for somebody you knew once before. Someone who will now know you the way you said only I ever would. Someone who won't ever understand you the way that I have. He used you once, why can't you see he's doing it again? Why can't you see how little you mean to him, and how much you mean to me? I suppose you'll learn. Then you'll come back. And I won't be lost anymore. You'll come back for me and help me find my way home through the darkness. Then we'll be happy. Happy and safe from the darkness that lies within my mind. The darkness that pushed you away before. The darkness that I got lost in while looking for a way to bring you back. While looking for your light so that you could save me. That's all just a happy dream though, you'll never come back for me. I'm too far gone. So now I'll just let the darkness take me, infect me. Make me it's slave while it take over my heart and soul. Then I'll come for you. I'll make you understand your mistake. With the power of the darkness I will hunt down the light that I had grown to love, only so that I could learn how to hate it. How much the light can burn. It must be extinguished.

As I Bleed

You cry for me. Kneeling over my broken body you sob and whimper, but I feel the tears land on my dead skin. There is no afterlife for me. Nothing but lying here, listening to your screams of sadness and anger. "Why?" you scream into the wind, with the crowd gathered around you. The "why" being as simple as the breath you breathe. I was sick of it. Sick of the daily monotony of high school and work. Sick of only existing to you. We always said that we only needed eachother, looks like one of us lied.

So now we're here, my bones cracked and smashed, my blood forming a pool around my body and where you kneel. Get up, get over it. We both know I never meant this much to you alive. You'd rather have hidden our relationship from the world before this, how about now?

Poetry Contest

So for a poetry contest online I wrote a poem about writing a poem. And forgot to copy it to here. So yeah. sorry.

The Case of The Onceler

I'm rewriting The Lorax by Dr.Suess into a detective story.

Night Terrors

There's the screaming again, it's my turn tonight. I walk into her room and calm her. She won't take her eyes off of her closet. To reassure her I open it, step inside, and fall. The darkness envelopes me, swallows me. Limbs reach from the walls of the chute, grasping at me as I fall, my speed growing. I begin to see glimpses of light at the bottom as the temperature rises. My skin begins to blister and burn, the velocity sucking the air from my lungs. My skin peels away, revealing muscle tissue, blood pouring out. Why aren't I dead? I should be dead, the pain oh gods the pain. Help me somebody, save me. Wake me up! Where am I? I just keep falling, the light gets brighter and the temperature hotter! I flail and kick through the air, I'm on fire now. Save me! Help Me! It hurts, it burns, I can feel my muscles exploding with the heat. Kill me dammit! HELP!

I watch my flaming bones hit the bottom. Past the burning light, past all pain now. I am safe. Reborn in the light. I and others before me, we wait for another to fall.

This one kinda sucks huh?

Poison

It's a poison. This feeling, this evil. A fire coursing through my veins. Boiling my blood, it rises to my face. A crimson red appears just underneath my skin. Nobody shows that they see, and now I realize, they never did. I'm a shadow, a dark spot in the background of a photograph. The only reason I exist is to emphasize the people around me. But she noticed. Brought me out of the background. At least to me. Rarely speaking in person, especially when around other "friends". But I didn't care.. at first. Then something happened. Nothing changed. Nothing was supposed to, otherwise it would have. She's a poison, one that I willingly take daily. Killing me daily. It's murder, the way she makes me feel. The way she kills me. Makes me believe, then I begin to doubt, and with the wrong words she unknowingly ends me. Am I a poison to anyone, do I make them hurt with good intentions? Do I kill them the way she kills me? Or now that she's been gone, have I faded back into the background again?

So, did I mention I have a thing for sentence fragments?

Mr.Brown

Riding the bus home from school today I saw an old man pushing a shopping cart down the side-walk. I started thinking of everything that could happen to that old man, and this was the end result.

The day started off like any other day for Mr.Brown. Wake up, get dressed, get coffee, walk to work. But it wasn't just any other day for him, it was the 15th anniversary of his wife's death. Brokenhearted after her untimely end, he put everything that reminded him of her in one room in their old house, bought another lot, moved in there. Every year on this day he visits that room and sleeps in their bed once again. He had just left the grocery store with a cart full of canned foods and snacks loaded with preservatives and was nearing the house when he heard yelling.

It was some younger boys, in their late teens, drinking and partying on the lawn of The House! Enraged, Mr.Brown speeds up to the teens only to be shoved to the ground as the begin to set fire to his house. All of his wife's things, her memory and her ashes, destroyed by a bunch of drunk teens.

When the Boys looked back, Mr.Brown was lying dead on the ground.

Ok, so this one kind of sucks. Actually, it really sucks, don't even read it.

too late.

Daydreamer

I stare down at the math work in front of me. College grade, simple, boring. The teachers machine-like voice droning on about how horrible her students are. The world melts away to reveal it was all fake, a simulation created by some alien technology. They begin to speak in some strange gargling language, yet I understood every word.

"We're not getting anything out of this one, let's dump him with the others."

A hatch opens at my feet and I fall. Claws sprout from my fingers and dig into the wall of the chute. Digging in to the wall I start to climb back up. I emerge into the light of the forest, those damn trappers caught me by accident. They approach me, guns firing in sequence with their steps and heartbeats. Bullets bounce off my metallic skin, one hits a trapper in the head and he falls to the ground. The other is left to me. He drops his weapon and begins to run, the desert sand slowing him down and filling his shoes. I walk calmly behind, loading my gun. The last soldier. The last life that needs to end in this war. After this, it's over. He trips and falls, spits sand out of his mouth, and turns around to see me standing over him. I raise my sword, and plunge it into his chest. My quest for revenge starts here, with the death of my murderer. The organization behind the experiments on my daughter thought I was dead after they sent that assassin. They were sorely mistaken, you can't kill a vampire with anything less than a beheading. As I watch his blood flow out of the open wound, I struggle to restrain myself. When he looks up I jump back, sword drawn and ready.

"Wake up James, it's your turn to answer." the corpse tells me.

"Answer what demon? I have little patience for riddles."

"James! Wake up!"

I quickly look up and see the teacher glaring at me from across the classroom. Damn these dreams.

Dethroned (End of The Darkbringer)

Just a quick note from me, this is told as the original Darkbringers were written, in the p.o.v. of The Darkbringer. In this final Darkbringer story, Aslin confronts Darkbringer and brings his demon reign to an end. Now that I've spoiled the ending, have fun reading it.

THE ViRUS

The doors to my quarters burst open in a flash of light. Turning I see one of my Devil-Guards surrounded in a dark blue aura.

"Guard, I requested no assistance, return to the fight with the human resistance." But he keeps walking. As the demon walks into the light his flesh begins to hiss and smoke, and the blue aura fades from his body. It is then I see who has invaded my private quarters. Aslin, a creation I long thought dead from my elite troops. A human I sought to change, a human that had the will to resist the mental changes, yet could not stop his body from morphing into that of some strange man-beast hybrid. Yet he looked more like my son than any of my other creations.

"You're going to die today." He tells me. He destroys my army, invades my home, and claims that he's come to kill me? Foolish half-blood.

"Is that so? Did you bring any of my other escaped creations with you? No? How then do you plan to "kill" your own father, without the rest of your family?" Taunting him.

"You are not my father. My father was a farmer, you killed them along with everyone else I cared about a long time ago."

"And I thought I killed you too, or at least that my Elites did."

"No such luck." He says and charges at me, the blue aura returning to his body.

I easily sidestep to avoid his attack, and get tripped by the Young demons tail. I did not expect his transformation to go this far after he escaped, without a supply of demon blood.....

"How are you that far along in your changes?! After you escaped there was nothing with the same effects as what we were giving you in that forest!"

"Until you sent your Demonic Elites after me." He spat back

So he figured out what we were giving him, I had underestimated his intelligence. Not waiting for me to finish my thoughts, such a rude halfling, he attacks. This time I'm ready. Grabbing his clawed and deformed hands in one swift catch, and his tail in my other hand, I easily throw the boy into the next room. As I slowly walk through the dust and rubble I'm hit with a blast of heat. Flames erupted from the boys paw-like left hand and he hurled them at me repeatedly.

I don't understand! This was not a standard transformation, demons can't touch fire without it rapidly covering their bodies. We are not born of flames as the humans think we are, our homeland is a desert iceland. Flames ripped apart my wings and right arm, before I could extinguish them. Lying on the ground bleeding out, I look up to see the halflings fanged-smile.

"I thought you'd be harder than a guard. Guess I was wrong."

I want to rip that smile off his face.

"Y'know I probably should be thanking you, without the transformation, I would have never been able to defeat you. But before I kill you, where is the cure. I know you have one, enough for two people."

"You think I'd just tell you? You have all that power and you want to get rid of it, I'm not going to waste it on you!" The nerve of this one!

"No, I'm going to use it on your daughter. She set me free, gave me the strength, told me you had a cure. You're going to die, your army is nothing. Give your one true child a chance at a life when all of this is over."

Looking into his eyes I see he has spoken the truth. Sighing, I rip apart the changed and deformed flesh holding my chest together, and hand him two vials.

"One for each of you. Your reward for besting me and my army, and one to save my daughter."

The boy just smiles, takes them, and heads up the stairs to my daughters chamber. He was right, I'm going to die, but not by his hand. By drinking the vial meant for him, he will return to his original state, mostly. I hear the screams of pain as the changes start. I let out one last victorious laugh, then it all goes black.

The End

well, could've been better.

THE ViRUS

The Dream

"SOLDIER GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!!!" I awake to the screaming of a man in green combat armor, holding his helmet in one arm and a balancing a gun in the other. I jump out of my cot and grab my guitar. Blue, stained with the blood of thousands of enemies, and yet it still plays like new. I put on my suit and run into the battlefield as my guitars form shifts into that of a gun. Pulling it apart into two identical firearms, I blast away at the first two machines that cross my path, hot oil covering my arms and chest as their mechanical limbs explode in a storm of hot metal and lead. I flip a switch on my guns and slam them back together as a blade sprouts from the barrel of what was once the finest gun in the library. Slashing through the forest to get at my enemy I am reminded again of what it means to be the Hero. The man I trusted most in this world, the man who taught me everything I know, is now my greatest adversary. Killing my father was acceptable, for he was a vile man and deserved what he got, but killing Elizabeth was to set an example. One that I hated him for. Years of serving in his army, of learning every tactic he employed, I was ready to make my move. I slam to the ground as something attacks me from above. Rolling over I see the bastard brother of my Heroic father. The bane of the colonies, my Uncle. Is this how it all ends? After spending a lifetime in a prison for a crime I didn't commit, a lifetime of training for this moment, I am to be wiped off the map by a sneak attack? No, I kick my unholy Uncle's legs out from under him and spring on top. Shooting off his hands and feet with my energy blasts, I am faced with a decision, do I kill the innocent boy, or turn my back on this life of hatred? I am the most wanted man in all of the galaxy, it's not too late to turn myself in. No, using my powers of creation I restore the boys limbs, smiling as he stands from his wheelchair. I turn to see the crowds cheering. The savior of the U.S. they call me. All of this made possible by a freak accident in my underground lab. Years I was kept in a glass dome, studied by the worlds greatest minds. The biblical, ethical, and political effects of letting me live were too great, so they thought to eliminate me. Tearing my limbs from my body, and burning them in hopes that they had finally killed the Wizard. These people are failures, and they deserve what is coming to them. Using my last bit of magic before my life ended, I called upon the forces of nature to reap my revenge. My arms and legs severely burned, I hear my love calling my name.

"James! James wake up!" I hear her, barely.

"Jane, Jane is that you?"

"Wake up James, it's time for school."

Oh shit, it was all a dream. Sliding out of bed I see burn marks on the ceiling, new scars all over my chest and god knows how many on my back. Burns on my arms, the palms of my hands are black and crackling with electricity. Looking at my face in the mirror I see my eyes are now a dark red. What happened last night?

Later Drones.

Darkbringer Reborn

I am remaking the Darkbringer Chronicles into a 2 part short story. Part one is focused on The Darkbringer as the main character. His transformation from anti-hero to villain, half-human to demon lord. Then part two is Aslin. His capture, his life before the Darkbringer took over the world. Putting a few twists in it though. Want to run a few ideas by you all. What if Aslin was the Darkbringers blood son? Not created of his flesh, but born of a human mate of the Darkbringer? Like his daughter. Or, if the roles were switched, what if Aslin was the demon lord and it was Darkbringer's demonic blood that allowed him to defeat Aslin and claim the kingdom? I'll not be posting my progress on here for risk of giving others ideas.

THE ViRUS

Fighting Myself

I don't know who I am anymore. The Virus is here for me. Always cold, calculated, logical. And me, weak, caring, trusting. The Virus is the superior being in this battle. And it is to him that I relinquish this situation to. I wish only for my mistakes to be forgotten, not forgiven. I know that I have condemned myself to this life. Destined to become a lock-in in my future, no friends, no contacts, no family. I have done this to myself. I drown out these thoughts with music in a futile attempt to resist these suicidal tendencies that The Virus is pushing upon me. Passing the blame off onto a dear friend that I have pushed away. Fuck, I don't know what to do. Who is wrong in situations such as these, who is the antagonizer and who is the victim. I have broken another one of my rules, friends never say goodbye. Harnessing my greatest fear and using it against myself, I drive out The Virus, if only temporarily. If I had a soul to condemn, no doubt she would have already wished me to hell. But hell holds no torture greater than that of loneliness. It is to you dear readers that I write this letter of hate. Praying to the Gods that one of you may be able to relate to my inner hatred towards The Virus and myself. I thank you for your time. And Goodbye.

SAW

Hate

There's a rage inside all of us. Religion calls it Satan, the government calls it Anarchy, I call it Hatred. The Hatred of those who surround us. The Hatred towards the ones who betray us, lie to us, and those who direct their own Hatred towards us. Fuck them all. You have your own Hate, your own rage, your sense of anarchy, Satan, demons, whatever the fuck you want to call it, it's yours. Use it. Harness your rage and direct it towards those who do you wrong. Whatever you do, don't fall in love, it will expose your rage to the outside world because of the aftereffects. When it's all over, your Hatred will overpower you, and you'll have nothing left but hate.

THE VIRUS

Who Do You Think You Are?

I'm sick of all of this crap. People think I'm suicidal because I write these stories, because I hate my current situations, and because I listen to "emo music". Who the fuck are you to judge me?! The ideas that flow through my head are inspired by things that are going on in real life, whether you make the connections or not. If you actually read my work instead of looking for some "hidden meaning" that might show that I'm depressed or suicidal, then you might actually like what you read. So fuck you guys, I'm brought down daily by people who call themselves my friends, I don't need to come home and get a phone call asking me if I've tried killing myself lately, from a family member too. You're all Drones. Do you even come up with these ideas yourselves, or is my defective parental unit giving you false information? If I tried killing myself, you'd all already know, because I'd leave a note on this blog! Oh wait, you don't actually read the works, you just skim them. So, for all of you that have encouraged my writing, thank you. To the one who told me that it's just a phase I'm going through, that I'm not actually going to succeed at this, GO FUCK YOURSELF. See, big capital letters mean that you would have noticed it because your skimming the post. So, to my aunts, uncles, mother, sister, grandfathers, grandmothers, "friends", and cousins, thank you for your encouragement. I'm done for the day. Go away. Don't come back unless your actually going to offer some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, which would require you to read my work. So, thank you for your time, goodbye drones.

-THE VIRUS

The Forest

Suicide flashes through his mind again. Watching his life fall apart before his eyes. Hearing the mocking laughter of his so-called friends. Seven months planning. He prepared for this moment, but he couldn't take it. A year of working up the courage to try, took only 5 minutes to destroy. He runs, tears in his eyes. But he has no where to run to. Even the voice of reason in his head laughs at him now. Reminding him how he could never have succeeded anyway. Telling him he'd never be good enough to think about trying again. Eyes closed and sprinting through the forest, he slams headfirst into a tree. Throwing his bag to the ground and letting out a scream of hatred for himself, he sits with his back resting on the trunk of the tree. Tired, embarrassed, and emotionally bleeding, he wishes only for release from this damning world. He reaches into his bag and his hand comes out holding a wicked looking dagger. Not knowing or caring how it got there, he closes his eyes and prepares for the end. He pulls the dagger towards his chest, waiting for the piercing pain of death to claim him. But it never comes. Then he feels the hands pulling his wrists back. Even with his eyes closed he knew who it was. He could feel the guilt in those hands. The pain of knowing that she drove him to this. She separates the blade from his hands as he opens his eyes. Looking at him, she realizes that this is the first time she has truly looked at him. Seen past the pathetic exterior that hides the being within. She reaches for the dagger, looking him in the eyes. He knows what she's thinking, what she wants. He reaches into his bag once more and comes out with a blade identical to the first. Positioning the blades over each others hearts, they share a kiss. Their first, their last. Then they die. Their souls joining the many who have fallen victim to the magic of this cursed forest. It can grant you the love of your life, but only in the afterlife.

No, this story is not about anyone. Everybody that has read it has either said that they know who it's about, or they want to know. That's all for now Drones, later.
-The Virus

Aslin: The Survivor

It has been three years since the Darkbringer killed the last pure human. Three years and already he seeks me out. He knows that I'm still alive. That I'm the one killing his Elites. No other creature would try. The forest has long since become my home. But he is expanding his reach even farther into my sanctuary. Infecting the waters and plant life. I wonder if he even knows the extent of my transformations since I escaped. My right arm has been replaced by a scythe-like appendage beginning at my elbow. It has been stained by the blood of his warriors, which only furthered my changes. My wings grew out, so much so that I can wrap them around myself as a vampire would a cape. I never fly anymore though, for risk of exposing myself to his aerial patrols. I simply wait for him to send me more Elites, more blood. With the blood comes change, and with change comes power. Soon I will be strong enough to storm his Empire's gates. Then I shall have my revenge. When I am the last one of his creations alive. The last victim robbed of my humanity and reduced to drinking the blood of my kin. Then I shall have my revenge. When I am the last surviving proof of the Darkbringer's reign of darkness, this war will be over, and I can finally die.

Hello, now go away.

My well of inspiration has run dry at the moment. I am not going to post a part 2 to Kid's story, let's just say he's dead and call it a day. I'm working on a story. Kind of like Chasing Amy for those of you who have seen it. Though my inspiration is drawn from (almost entirely) true events. This will be my first attempt at writing a comedic-love story. Set in high school. With a lesbian (you would think that wouldn't you? You sick bastards...). This story will not make it onto this blog, as I'm afraid it will be too long. I am looking for ideas to help me with this story. And I have a, kind of, tip for writers. I like to look at the post secret site, and try to find the darkest ones and combine them into my characters personalities. I think this story is in it's own way, going to be my best. My mother always said that in high school my best friend was going to be a lesbian, not quite sure this is what she meant though. Thank you for reading, and have a nice day Drones.
-The Virus

Kid's Mission (Log Jul.29 2020)

There were 4 of us selected for the mission. The others told us it was suicide, and they were right. It was me, Reaver, Tech, and Boomer. Each of us top in our class, if you could call them classes. On arrival to this school we were told to pick a name. Most kids picked something cool that didn't fit them at all, I picked something I was already going to be called. "Hey Kid, Reaver says to get you up and ready. It's time to meet The Boss.." Boomer shook me awake, pulling me out of a quite pleasant dream.
"Dammit Boomer! Now?" I ask, disappointment clear in my voice
"Yeah, now get out of bed and down to the control room. And don't mention where you're going to anyone. Reaver says we get booted if we blab." Boomer warned. Nobody turned down a mission around here. This place was like a prison during the school year, and an asylum during winter. They took us from our regular schools, brought us to this place, gave everyone a shot, and took away our names. The shots were supposed to enhance our performance "in the field", as we were told. We didn't know what they meant then, but we soon found out. Shit, forgot my gun, better go back and get it. Anyway, we found out that our names gave us certain.... Abilities. And that the shots were supposed to give us more. My name keeps me in my early 20's, when in reality, I've been here for 45 years.
"Kid! Pay attention to where you're going!" Reaver, here is a guy that you really don't want to fuck with. 7 feet tall, almost skeletal, and some say that he's died around a hundred times. But that doesn't stop me from messing with him.
"Sorry Skeleman, wouldn't want you to fall apart."
"Fuck off Kid, where do you think you're going anyway? Control room is the other way." Ah shit.
"Just headed down to the caffeteria to get some breakfast Reaver." I'll bet I did it again...
"Breakfast? You know what time it is boy? You slept all day, it's six at night!" I knew it! Ever since my third shot I've been sleeping a lot longer than usual. It's my fault though. For every mission you complete you get another shot. I've been here 45 years, and this is my third mission.
"Right.... Well then I guess I'm going to the control room. Later bonehead." Best get out of here before he realizes I just insulted him. It's a quick walk to the control room. But my mental log is almost full for today. If you're reading this Gold, I had better be dead motherfucker.
Kid out.

I'm not to happy with how this turned out. Oh well. Part 2 sometime later, when I feel like it.
-The Virus

The Visitor

I'm not posting a story today, but I do encourage you to send me your ideas for what direction you would take Aslin in. You will get credit for your idea if I use it, as well as any character you come up with in the story. That's all Drones.

-The Virus

Aslin: The Killer (Darkbringer Chronicles)

I'm gonna try something new. Taking Aslin down several different paths in the same time frame. For example, in this one he embraces his now demonic blood and decides to wage an all out war against the human race and The Darkbringer. Starting his own race of demons and calling his army The Dogs. I hope to take Aslin into as many alternate realities as possible, to see just how deep I can go with my character. Hope you enjoy this first one.

-The Virus

I look at my latest creation in disgust. A horrible combination of Demon and Man. Much like myself when I first escaped from that hole. When forced to drink the blood of a monster such as myself, the human body reacts very.... Differently. Affecting the body, and before the victim knows whats happening, the mind as well. Left with only their primal instincts and obedience to their creator, these beasts are no better than dogs, and I tell them just that. That is what I shall call my army. The Dogs, created in my image, named after myself. I am their God, I am their ruler. They will obey me without question. I put the newest in the cage with the others, and move on to my interrogation. My scouts ran into a demon patrol in the forest near our caves. They killed all but one. His armor is that of a war party, and therefore he is Demonica Elite. The best of the Darkbringer's army. That was proof enough for me that my forces are far superior to both the Humans and Demons. It only took three to wipe out an entire Elite party. It should only take 5 to take out the Temple then. If I go along it will only take 2. This is a beautiful beginning to my new empire. We move out of these caves tomorrow night. Revenge shall be mine..

And there ya go. Let me know what you think and where I should take Aslin next. I think I'm going to be able to have some fun with this. I hope so. My rhyming has been off so I'm glad I still have this. I just need to find The Book again and I'll get all my rhymes back. Until then, I hope you enjoy whatever I post. Later Drones.

-The Virus