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View Full Version : People wanted a story or something?


RenaisanceMan
02-16-2009, 05:00 PM
Well I have been informed through the poetry thread that peopel prefer 'storys' though nobodt specified what style of story they enjoyed!

Due to this small problem I can not take a random guess what what is desired and so have just started a random opening of which, if poeple enjoy it and desire me to continue, I shall.

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It rained blood that day, that night; the moon glistened upon the life spring. A crimson shower sprinkled my face with the taste of iron as it permeated my senses, feeling the weight of my sword in hand as it broke free of its bodily confines.

A stream of blood trickled down the edge of my blade and dripped my kills essence upon his sundered form, my head lingered, tilted downcast to gaze upon the corpse, blood running down my face from its pool within my hair. Lifting my sword and flicking my wrist to fling the blood from its length sending a spray onto the ground. Listening to my steps within blood soaked soil I lift my head, hand unconsciously sheathing my sword as I weave between the trees of the forest.

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Ok, so thats the opening, I can do somehting else but nobody requested a specific genre or anything!

Smile
02-16-2009, 05:02 PM
i really like it acctually, please go on, its nice to read a story that isnt about sex for once

Hampers
02-16-2009, 05:07 PM
Moved to Author's Cafe...

RenaisanceMan
02-25-2009, 11:50 AM
It rained blood that day, that night; the moon glistened upon the life spring. A crimson shower sprinkled my face with the taste of iron as it permeated my senses, feeling the weight of my sword in hand as it broke free of its bodily confines.

A stream of blood trickled down the edge of my blade and dripped my kills essence upon his sundered form, my head lingered, tilted downcast to gaze upon the corpse, blood running down my face from its pool within my hair. Lifting my sword and flicking my wrist to fling the blood from its length sending a spray onto the ground. Listening to my steps within blood soaked soil I lift my head, hand unconsciously sheathing my sword as I weave between the trees of the forest.

The sting, pain grasps at my ribs. He was stronger than I thought to cause such damage with a single kick, fingers traced over my ribs causing the sting to deepen, gathering that I had at least two cracked ribs. As I slowly paced forward, holding onto my side believing that pressure would ease the pangs of agony, I used my free arm to push aside stray branches and foliage that blocked my path.

The moon bathed my body in its light and the blood stains upon my clothing looked little more than a dye pattern intentionally applied for fashion. Darkness, it was the cure for all the ugly sights of the world. Or so I had hoped at the least, that is until I happened upon the blade of a would-be assassin, although I was not surprised by this, what was to come would indeed change my entire life.

Drawing my sword as the assassin charged I swung it in anticipation of the attack, but like life itself nothing could truly be expected as a scythe shaped blade upon a chain wrapped around my sword, initially slicing my cheek before encircling my sword. There I stood grappling against the assassins tugs at my sword trying to wrench it from my grasp. All this time I was unknowing that along came a young woman on a stroll, equipped with nothing but a fine silk parasol. She would turn a corner just in time to encounter my weapons escape from its confines of the chain and my vertical strike up the assassin’s body, launching a spray of blood into the air which showered upon the woman and her parasol. I had not noticed this fact until the felled corpse stumbled to the ground, like slow motion the woman appeared from behind to crumpling body, her face stricken with shock. The silk parasol dropped to the ground into a stream of blood.

There we stood on the outskirts of a small village that lay just outside of the forest; she stared blankly at me, quivering. I looked at her, my eyes that were once hollow began to soften upon the sight of beauty drenched in blood form the fresh kill my hands had wrought.

“Was it you?” She spoke, her voice soft and distant.

“Was it you, who made the heavens rain blood?” her eyes settled upon my face, staring blankly into mine.

For the first time in my life, I felt guilt, it dug a deep hole in my heart and my chest felt like it was being pierced with an invisible blade. I stood staring at the young woman brows furrowing for a moment until being interrupted. My employers appeared from an alleyway behind me, calling out.

“Hey, what’s going on? You’re late” a gruff voice from a rough looking man.

“Nothing” I replied, flicking my sword to expel the blood from its blade, sheathing it soon after.

I stood looking at the woman for a moment then turned to face the men of my employ, watching as they drew their swords.

“Witnesses must be disposed of” once again the gruff voice spoke as he and his men approached.

My hand clenched the hilt of my blade and my legs took an aggressive stance.

“She is with me, do not make any rash decisions” I glared at them, anger apparent in my tone.

“Very well, Ansou, but be it upon your head”

I nodded as my hand moving from my hilt as I turned towards the woman and approached her, the men behind me sheathed their swords and began to wander away, heading towards the usual meeting place. There I stood, in front of this woman I had desecrated with the blood of a murdered man. Concerned I gathered some of my sleeve and used it to wipe away some of the drying blood from her face, looking deep within her solemn eyes.

“Are you harmed? Did, did I hurt you at all?” I moved my hand from her face.

“I feel pain, a lot of pain” she muttered.

“Where, where does it hurt?” I exclaimed, my hands grasping her shoulders softly.

She looked down slowly, an arm moving and causing me to remove my hold on her; the hand motioned to her chest and lay upon where the heart resides deep inside.

“I feel it, the pain. The rain pours on the swordsman. The red rain” she murmured.

Her eyes stared at me, her pitying gaze glazed over by sorrow. Then unexpectedly she lunged forward into me, her arms pressed into my chest, hands clenching my shoulders and her head lay sideways upon my chest, nestling up into the nape of my neck. She began to sob, her tears coating my neck and chest, bathing my flesh in sorrowed warmth. Uneasy, my arms wrapped around her to relieve some strain from her short stature as she stood on toes tips. My head gently lay rest upon the top of her head.

“Come with me, I will give you food and shelter”

She nodded as I released her and she backed away from my body, I turned and began to walk toward the alley behind me, she followed behind, her parasol left on the ground and her feet shuffling along the muddy ground. As I walked down the alley with the young woman trailing behind me the image of her soaked in blood began to haunt me, I began to question my actions. Was I a monster? We walked through the street at the end of the alley and towards an inn, sliding open the door and entering I paced over to the counter, face to face with the inn’s owner, an elderly woman with wrinkles and skin like crumpled brown paper.

“I need you to look after this woman for me”

Peering up from her cup of tea which she held on both hands the owner peered around me to the woman behind.

“I do not accept personal whores” she mumbled, sipping from her cup, eyes closing as she did so.

“She is not a whore, just please, take care of her”

“I already said I do not take in whores, no matter your argument”

She continued to sip her tea, eyes closed and oblivious to the fact I had raised my hand. Swinging it down and knocking the cup from between her hands onto the counter, followed by my hand I glared at her as she jumped back in shock, her eyes springing open to look at me.

“She is not a whore and I will thank you to not say it again”

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Should I continue posting this?People do not seem to be interested heh.

wicked
03-08-2009, 08:19 AM
I don't plan on having any of my stories having sex in it. The stories that have mainly just that in it get incredibly boring and lousy.

RenaisanceMan
03-08-2009, 04:10 PM
I don't plan on having any of my stories having sex in it. The stories that have mainly just that in it get incredibly boring and lousy.

I'm confused, what do you mean?

This has no sex in it ~chuckles~

Dreamawake
03-08-2009, 07:08 PM
Wow, I wish I could write like you. This is really amazing and I do hope you continue. I want to see where you go with this... seems interesting. I like it. (:

RenaisanceMan
03-09-2009, 11:38 AM
Wow, I wish I could write like you. This is really amazing and I do hope you continue. I want to see where you go with this... seems interesting. I like it. (:

Thanks!

Always nice to get encouragement for once ~laughs~

RenaisanceMan
03-17-2009, 02:13 PM
“She is not a whore and I will thank you to not say it again” my hand grasped her by chin and squeezed her cheeks.

The old hag finally nodded pulling a pipe form within a pocket, lighting it as I released her face from my grasp. She took a deep drag from the pipes neck and expelled the ghastly smoke, standing up from her seat and leading us to a room in her Inn. It was adequate, just suitable enough for our needs, only one bed, but I never used those anyway, too tempting a target and too distracting to the minds alert state.

“I shall leave you and your ‘not a whore’ to yourselves” the old woman promptly left before encoring my wrath.

It was quiet within the room and I decided to pull open the window to allow light to enter, I sat upon the ground leaning against the book shelf unit as the sunlight its beam upon my body. Releasing my sheath from its position upon my belt I set it upon the ground and held onto it, my eyes closing and my ears attuned to the sounds around me.

During this time the woman had entered the bathroom and I could hear her clothing being loosened and fall upon the ground. I shook my head and tried to focus on the birds and the wind outside, but only able to pick up the sound of the bath water running and her body slipping inside. This was an odd feeling that stirred within me, women never usually caused any interest, but this was a much more private situation which I could not avoid coming into contact with.

I sat in my spot; bemused and curious. My mind raced with the new ideas that drowned my usual composure, I shifted and fidgeted. This was a very uncomfortable situation for me and I found myself raising from my position and leaving the room to gain some space. It was a decision that should not have been made, maybe I should have killed? I began to wonder. No. No, I am not a ruthless killer, I only kill bad people. But were they all bad? I had only been told they were when being hired. No. What am I doing!

As I wrestled with my conscience within my mind, I did not notice those who approached me. Why was I falling to the ground? What has happened to my thoughts, they have become mumbles, distorted. As one drove their blade into my side I realised what the regrettable lapse of instinct had led me into, they were going to kill me, slowly. But all I could think of was the girl, what has she done to me? What has she done? The last things I could dwell upon until I passed out.


Darkness, stillness, it was silent for a time. Then the kick of pain’ spiked toe wrenched into my body and forced me from my perpetual slumber. Am I, alive?

“Ansou!” she cried out, a sobbing woman calling my name.

“Ansou, wake up!” the same voice as before.

A blur, it was all I could make out. My eyes were open, bloodshot and weary from the assault that had taken place earlier. Earlier, what happened? The shape seemed familiar, but no, it couldn’t be the same woman he had found, could it? She has changed. How long has it been? I try to rise from the table I lay upon, well, it was as hard as one. Only to be held down, too weak to fight against such gentle female hands.

“No, don’t get up.”

“You have been unconscious for a month, they hurt you rather seriously” she sighed softly.

“I’m afraid they were after me” her tears fell against my skin and she buried her face into my chest.

“I’m so sorry!” she mumbled through the cloth that covered me, sobbing.

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Continuation while I am still working on it. Now it has a title too 'Stained Sanctity'

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RenaisanceMan
03-22-2009, 11:49 AM
Kill this thread please. I am not going to bother wasting my time posting any more here.