Join date : 2012-10-08
Posts : 9
|Subject: What Has Passed [Event] Fri Nov 23, 2012 10:41 am|| |
"Sometimes, we are confronted with demons. Monsters, that take shape and fight us. At times, we win. Other times... We lose. At the end of the day, no one really knows how they come to being, or even why the exist. But it's not always clear cut about what defines a monster. Take heed, for although monsters may walk amongst us, sometimes the greatest demons... come from ourselves."
"What are you doing boy?" A gruff voice breaks out, causing the scratching sound of a pencil on paper to halt. Sheepishly, a young teen scratches at the back of his head, looking up at the older, more built man. The boss of the lighthouse towered over everyone, and the younger man couldn't help but feel awkward around such a person, as he always did, despite their time with each other.
"Haha... Nothing. Nothing at all." The boy replies, getting up with an embarrassed laugh. The man rolls his eyes, before directing the boy to the rest of the lighthouse crew. All of them were men, varying in age, but somehow coming close like family. As they began to walk towards the jubilant group, the two felt a strange sensation. It was an awkward feeling, as though something were keeping them in place. But nothing was there. And as they glanced at each other, sensing that the other had felt it, a yell pierced the air, bringing their attention back to the others. All in the area stood still, as one of the men had stabbed the other with a knife, right in the heart. The victim could only blink in disbelief, looking at the blood pouring from his chest, to the man who had done the deed, a frighteningly cold look on his face. With a violent shove, the injured falls to the ground, crumpling. Yelling and shouting erupts in the area, the others lunging at the murderer, as the boss stood still, before looking at the younger of the two.
"Run. Do not look back." The boss says it with a tone of such authority, that the boy is already off running, even as he hears the sounds of more fighting ensue. It was three to one. They should be able to stop him right? He keeps running, well into the forest, before stopping, looking back from where he came with hesitation. The boss had told him to run. But... The thought of seeing them gone causes him to go back, despite all rational thought and orders, because they were his family, and he didn't- Coming back to the clearing, he saw two others -they had always been together, hadn't they? cooking for everyone- had joined the first victim -the man who tried to teach everyone about books and education, while the boss -tough, the father that he never had but always wanted- was on his knees, breathing heavily as blood streamed from various wounds on his body. The one who started it all, the knife-wielding maniac -the man who had taught him how to fish- stood, looking battered and bruised but not down. Another swift stab, and the boss falls as well, and the boy cannot help the tears and the screaming from come out, as he falls to his knees, mimicking the position that the man he had respected so much was in. The killer glanced over, walking over slowly. Squatting in front of the crying teen, the man seems content to play with his weapon, before his last victim lets out a question that has him pause. Going still, the knife-wielder seems to think for a few moments, before shrugging.
"Because someone paid me to." He says, as simple as that, before swiftly bringing an end as was done to the rest. Staring at the body for a few seconds, the man brings out a cellphone, dialing a number. "Hey. The job's done. The gold should be ours." He begins to walk away, talking to his employer, as the teen slowly begins to fade away. 'How ironic. My words...' The darkness comes, and it vanishes all thoughts.
No one goes to the lighthouse anymore. The disappearing away of the crew, and tales of a demon stalking the woods deter anyone from going. Roaring seems to echo around the area at times, as the earth shakes, and it only makes people think that the stories are true.