Quick, pick a utensil out of the lot...

Discussion in 'The Spam Zone' started by LARiA, Sep 22, 2011.

?

Pick out what?!

  1. butter knife

    10.0%
  2. spoon

    10.0%
  3. fork

    5.0%
  4. spork

    15.0%
  5. butcher's knife

    35.0%
  6. chopsticks

    20.0%
  7. melon scooper

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  8. other

    5.0%
  1. ♥♦♣♠Luxord♥♦♣♠ Chaser

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    Post count means nothing.
     
  2. Firekeyblade Hollow Bastion Committee

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    Laria, this was fairly well written. Stop putting yourself down.

    I really worry and wonder about you two sometimes. But anyway, all of you guys should RP. I think you guys would be good at it. Hell, you guys would probably be better than me. Now I'm not sure who to kill.....I could get Pika back.....but nah. You guys know I can't possibly kill anyone. Especially not with a freaking utensil. Also, some of you people I think, seem to disregard physics and the reality that is skin, muscle, and bones. B| I'll edit this later.
     
  3. Britishism Gummi Ship Junkie

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    My post from yesterday was unsatisfactory to say the least.
    Also, Nyan Cat. What on Earth was I thinking?
    I shall edit this post soon with a less awful story.
     
  4. Saxima [screams geometrically]

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    I'm rather fond of mine . . . Has a real-life charm to it that I may not mind becoming a reality. I don't think I would actually kill Charlie though.
     
  5. Loxare Hollow Bastion Committee

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    I like mine. its got a few unanswered questions, some dialouge, and carving peoples hearts out with spoons. of course, i wouldnt actually kill someone over an avi. id wait until they did something else and kill them then. ^-^
     
  6. Ars Nova Just a ghost.

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    Butter knife

    I'd stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus

    and wouldn't stop until the cops come in
     
  7. ♥♦♣♠∟uxord♥♦♣♠ Banned

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    Her name had been Christine. Not that I cared. She just happened to be mentioned in the paper. Tricky reading it though with these hands. I was becoming more attuned to my new existence with this gift of a curse. I knew that it wasn't always going to be easy. Glancing back at the paper shredded upon the floor of our home I couldn't help but chuckle. The mystery of how she received those wounds baffled the police. They had even quoted something about a famous serial killer that was a chef. As if I would commit sin for revenge. What I am doing is my destiny. A trial by God so that I can receive my just reward.

    I had trouble remembering my old life. It's almost as it never happened. Like parts were warping, blurring, even being replaced by stuff that did not make sense. Maybe the entire test they had done on me consisted not only of my arms and hands but maybe some my mind as well? Some sort of drug? Bah who cares. My mission was set before me. Only one had received their punishment. It was time that the second punishment was given.

    I remembered this one. She flicked me off when I spotted her getting undressed in front of the window across the street. Orange hair, pale skin. I remember the man as well. Black hair, a bit tan. He was the one who tried to break my bones afterwards. It was not even my fault. She was looking at me as she was doing it and went all the way down to her lacy underwear. There was a choice though. Watching them from the alleys I could see they were on a date. The sun was covered by clouds and there was a possible chance of rain but I doubted it. Something inside my head told me so. I followed them to a carnival that was going on in the middle of town. They walked around and she pointed out all the people in costumes. Apparently she made them. I spotted a stilted clown that had long arms. A sneer crawled along my face.

    They left the carnival just as the sun was setting and headed towards the restaurant area. I clambered up to the roofs of the city and followed. They decided to eat at a fancy restaurant. The Sharp Knife. A pleasant sounding place to eat. Luckily they had their seats next to the big window on the front of the building. They did what most normal people do when they eat out somewhere. They started talking and I could hear them even through the sounds of the city. He apparently wanted some pleasure tonight. She felt uncomfortable. She didn't feel happy knowing what had happened to Christine. They left an hour later and I pursued them to where she now called home. I perched across the street and listened. My hole body stood still as my muscles in my ears did their work. He really wanted her now but she didn't feel up for it. They started fighting. I caught their names among all the "bitches" and "bastards" coming out of their mouths. Helga and Rick.

    Rick stormed off, angry that he'd have to pleasure himself that night. Helga went in, turning on lights as she went. I perched there. Waiting. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Five hours had gone by. I opened my eyes and observed the darkness around me. The moon was not to be seen for the clouds had covered its light. Even so, my eyes could see into the dark as if it were day. I sneaked down into the shadows and crossed the street. I climbed the gutter and proceeded onto the roof. I found an unlocked window and climbed in. I had entered her sewing room. Hats and scarves and shirts were all hung up around the room. Spools of thread were piled up into a basket that covered an entire table. I passed my eyes over all the individual spools until I found the one I wanted. Yellow.

    I found her in her canopy bed, sleeping like the princess she thought she was. I suddenly had a memory of when I had sneaked into my wife's house when she was a teenager. I recalled the fun we had that night and almost getting caught by her dad. Shaking these memories from my mind I raised my left hand. I am a righty but it was a little tied up at the moment. I lowered it down onto her. A thick slice along her throat, as smooth as a paper-cut, was all I needed my left hand to do. Her body twitched a little for her brain was not getting any more blood. She suffocated in her sleep. Her soul was gone now but her body was demanding torture. I raised my right hand and got to work.

    I stood outside the front of her house admiring my work. She was sewn from head to toe, the thread going between all the holes I had made through out her body. Twenty-five holes each two inches apart from each other. The thread weaved in and out of her body. This constricted her from moving off of her front door. I pulled the rest of the thread off my right hand and looked down. It was all red but somehow it wasn't gruesome. The red was hypnotizing my mind into a state of calmness. Feeling a sort of high I smiled. I went back into her house and up into her sewing room. I went through all the clothes until I found what I wanted. I climbed back onto her roof and took of my trench coat and shirt. I put on what was now mine. A black and yellow striped shirt that had the arms the same length as mine. I accidently ripped it on the ends and could not help getting some blood on it but it did not matter. Hard work never kept anyone clean. I then donned my trench coat. I jumped off her house and ran into the city. The sun was rising now. It gave my back a warmness that I savored. The second day.

    [END of Part 2]
     
  8. Loxare Hollow Bastion Committee

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    esophagus is the food tube. which has nothing to do with the vocal cords. maybe you were thinking trachea...
     
  9. Ars Nova Just a ghost.

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    Uh ohhhh

    Somebody didn't get it!
     
  10. Loxare Hollow Bastion Committee

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    then explain and i will tell you whether your comment has any basis in either science or anatomy.
     
  11. Makaze Some kind of mercenary

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    Song lyrics, Yonkers.
     
  12. Loxare Hollow Bastion Committee

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    ... Tyler the Creator, in the empty white room, with a rope.
     
  13. Makaze Some kind of mercenary

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    Complimenting your own works is not a good idea. If I had any criticisms, they were of the unlikelihood of the feelings portrayed in it. I was not feeling your killing intent.
     
  14. Saxima [screams geometrically]

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    Always the killjoy, aren't we?
     
  15. Firekeyblade Hollow Bastion Committee

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    After pondering it for a while, I figured that I would probably use a fork to kill someone. But I couldn't think of anyone to kill. A gun would be more preferable, but.....yeah.
     
  16. Loxare Hollow Bastion Committee

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    i just realised..... i voted chopsticks, but then wrote about killing Amaury with a spoon..... oops.
     
  17. Saxima [screams geometrically]

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    I used a spork to kill my fourth cousin. c:
     
  18. ♥♦♣♠∟uxord♥♦♣♠ Banned

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    It was raining. I watched the tears of God fall from the sky breaking open onto the window. My breath escaped my mouth warm and fogged the window. My mind was in a rush and my vision blurred. I started to lose my breath. I fell to the floor wondering what was wrong with me. Struggling to regain myself I stuck my left hand out and broke the window. I grabbed on and pulled myself up. I stuck my head out cutting myself in the process. The rain poured onto me, cleansing me, restoring me. My blood started falling down as well, mixing in with the tears my eyes were dropping. I couldn't remember anymore. My childhood was gone now. Nothing could be recalled.

    I gathered myself afterwards. My punishment for my sins of my past were the reason for this. I realized though that it was a blessing. I forgot my sins and my reason to doubt. I only hoped that I could repay God for this. He has taken away troubles and now I must take care of the last four. Rick was the dinner for the devil tonight. I was going to make sure he prepared well for his feast.

    He had apparently been the one to call the police after finding Helga in my little project. Found that out from a news reel that happened to be playing on a television in a shops window while I was traversing the city. He must have planned on making up to her early. To bad he couldn't make up to a door ornament. Heh. The police apparently figured that the two recent killings were linked. Wouldn't be long till they found out the connection anyways. I figured that after tonight they would finally get it. The rain continued on from the morning while I spied on him. He lived in an apartment a little whiles away from Helga's home. He kept pounding on a punching bag all day. Not a tear was shed from his eyes the entire time. I expected him to leave for the night. Probably was cheating on her with some other girl but he surprised me. Ordered a pizza and stayed home. Did not matter where he died. I was there to make sure it happened in any place.

    It was starting to get dark by now. I stood back a bit from the edge of my roost on the building across from his. I laid down and counted the rain drops falling onto my face. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The rain had stopped and the moon had come out. The brightness from it permeated my resting place as if it were a spotlight and I was an actor in a play. I rose from my partial grave and looked around. His lights were off. I smiled. I wanted his death to be different. The others were simple and easy. Not a fighting chance. Lets give wonderboy a final fight. I jumped into the sky and caught myself on the edge of the building on my side. Hanging from there I braced my feet against the wall and pushed off. I soared through the air and landed with a roll onto his apartment. Jumping distances was now easy. I felt more animal now.

    All was silent up here. The sounds of the city felt distant. Nothing could scare me from my goal. I grabbed onto the ledge and looked down. I saw a window with a faint, glowing light escaping from it. A television was on. I held on to the ledge and lift myself vertically I changed the positions of my hands so that my body turned around. I swung out and crashed through the window. Glass exploded from the now broken window as I entered and spread about like shotgun rain. The room was quite small. A small doorway was was on the far end of a couch that led into what appeared to be a kitchen. I saw him on the couch recoiling from his sudden waking. His gaze focused on me and he shouted at me, questioning who I was. I just pulled my hands back into my coat and watched him. He got up and screamed at me, demanding who I was. The movie on the television switched scenes and light flowed throughout the room. His face went from one of fear and anger to one of surprise. He said he knew me. He said he caught me peeping at his girlfriend. I nodded in agreement. He asked if I was the one to kill her. I nodded again. He laughed. He told me he wished he had left earlier. He wanted to be the one to kill her. Now I was the one with a surprised look on my face. I didn't let myself look surprised for long though. I stood there like a tall and omnipotent being. I raised my right hand up and pointed at him. His eyebrow raised when he saw my hand. Your. Turn. The only words I let him hear escape my mouth.

    He stood there like a rock, waiting for me to move. I knew he was a fighter but I was no fool. I lowered my hand. Time passed endlessly in the room. The movie continued on, the only source of time moving. With swiftness I charged at him raising my right hand up as if to stab him. My hand was a blur as it traveled towards his head. He ducked down and pulled his hand back. He rose with an uppercut but missed as I jumped back. I dodged his flurry of punches and went around to his side. I tried to slice his arm off but he jumped back like I had. His back was now on the wall. He ran at me pulling his arm back. I grabbed my trench coat and threw it at him. He recoiled from it but it was to late and he was blind under it. That was when I saw the movie. A man was yelling then proceeded to kick a man down into a dark hole. I looked up at Rick. He was flailing about trying to remove my coat. His back was to me now and I raised my foot. My boot was all torn and jagged from my traveling of the city. It glistened with the water dripping off it. I kicked him just like the man had in the movie and he went sprawling forward into the wall. I pulled back my hand and stabbed him in the back making five holes in my coat. I held my hand in him for four seconds and pulled it out.

    I grabbed my coat and looked at the damage. Not needed of fixing. My boot though was trashed by the force of the kick. I looked around and saw to my delight a pair of industrial strength winter boots up against the couch. Grabbing them I put them on and found them to be a perfect fit. I walked to the window. I raised my right arm and thrashed it back into the room knocking the television off the table and onto the now dead man. I grabbed the top of the windowsill and swung myself out onto the roof. I snarled into the night. My deed was done and I was pleased at my work. Art was not needed for this scum. His limp body against the wall was all that there was going to be. The devil would have his feast with him whole. I set out into the night like a wolf after a meal. The third day.

    [END of Part 3]