Sem's new epic RP, bitches. As I said in the "preview topic" over in General Fiction, this is already closed to new members, so we will not be accepting more. Anyone attempting to join who doesn't already know that they're part of it is breaking da rules and will be shot on sight. Survivors will be shot again.
Anyway, on with the show. There are actually two posts here - one you've seen before, one you haven't.
Rain lashed the grey walls of the alleyway. It was nearly midnight, and the only light source was from a street lamp that towered above the dirty path. It was the sort of night where no-one was about except those that had to be.
Sprinting along the path was a young girl, her mousey brown hair whipping around her as the fierce wind caught it. She was breathing heavily - she had been running for a long time. She rounded a corner, and put her hands on her knees. She was out of energy - out of breath - out of time. The footsteps faded slightly - she'd lost her pursuers, for now.
This girl was Claire Fury. She had run away from home.
"No! I am not letting you control me anymore!"
Her parents had immediately contacted the police, and they had been searching for her for over a week. She had just walked for that time, foraging food and water from passers by whenever she reached a village or town. Mostly, however, she had kept to the shadows and back alleys, for fear of being found.
"Get back here, girl! We are not done with you!"
Finally, they had found her, sleeping outside a friend's house - she had arrived there in the middle of the night, so had decided to just sleep outside until the morning. This proved to be a mistake. The police had found her outside, and she barely escaped from them - from her parents.
"Hey! It's the girl! Don't let her get away again!"
After that, she had just ran for her life. The last thing she ever wanted was to go back to her parents - she couldn't bear that. However, something else was in store for her, something far more sinister. As she huddled against the wall, waiting for her heart to stop pounding and her head to stop spinning, a piece of the wall exploded next to her - it had been shot. In her misery, her pain, her breathlessness, she didn't hear a new set of footsteps approaching.
"Get out of here, kid. This is our turf", she heard. Looking up, she gazed into the eyes of a man who could easily kill her if she did not obey. He had a shaved head, square-set features, and in his hand was a handgun. He wore a simple black jacket with the insignia of a fox etched onto it. The very way he held it showed that he knew how to use it - and he was clearly the one that had fired at the wall. It was the only warning shot she'd get. Behind him were other men - all armed like the first man was, some more so. They wore the same jackets as their leader, with the same fox insignia. These men were clearly part of the same gang.
"I won't hurt you if you just leave this place - run far away, don't look back.. It's for your own good. Please."
The man she'd just registered as a cold, emotionless killer was almost pleading with her. Desperation cracked through his voice.
"I-I'm sorry, sir, I'll jus-"
She never finished her sentence. Bullets whistled through the air from her side - and she saw why the nameless gang leader had been desperate to get her out of the way.
"Oh SHIT, they're here! GET DOWN!" The nameless man's voice rang out over the shots. Pushing her down to the floor, he pointed his weapon towards the source of the gunshots and squeezed one, two, three rounds through it. Running through the hail of bullets, men dressed in green jackets charged wildly, firing their guns at everyone and anyone they could see that wasn't wearing their symbol.
It was a massacre. Claire couldn't move, couldn't even speak, lest she attracted the attention - and bullets - of these barbarians that were killing each other for no reason at all.
Seconds passed. Minutes, maybe even hours passed - no-one knew. Claire stayed in the same position, frozen stiff with fear. Eventually, the last gunshot rang out through the air, and the only sound left was the rain, still hammering down on the area. Claire looked up - everyone was dead or dying, except for one man. Squinting, she attempted to make out the colour on his jacket, to see if he was going to kill her or set her free. The seconds ticked on, her eyes shaking and blurring. She blinked. The person walked closer with each blink, each step almost drowned out by nature's lashing lament on the walls and ground. Eventually, her vision returned, and she saw with horror that the last man was a green-jacket. Now fate was to deal the next set of cards - the ones that decided what happened to Claire Fury next.
The man grabbed her. He sneered in her face as he dragged her upwards , pressing her against the wall as he searched her pockets for anything of value. Then, his hands crept... crept... searching her further, his eyes steely and cold. Suddenly, he dropped her and whirled around with a jump as he heard a faint voice.
"Leave h-her alone, you b-bitch. Sh-sh-she is innocent." she heard the redjacket leader stutter. He was severely injured, having been shot in the chest, but miraculously, he was still alive, although unable to move. Greenjacket walked over to him, and Claire, for what was possibly the fourth time that night, was powerless. Frozen in shock, as if in slow motion, she saw Greenjacket take the pistol from his belt, saw in seemingly infinite detail as he clicked the safety off, and as he pressed it to the redjacket's head.
"NO!" she cried. She jumped up, as a bolt of adrenaline surged through her, and lunged at the greenjacket before he could destroy yet another life. What happened next, she did not know. Rage overcame her, and she saw red, she saw white, she saw anger and misery and suffering and coldness, she saw the true pain in the world, she felt true hate, and then she saw nothing, only heard a voice in her head that said to her, simply:
"Kill him."
And she did, but she did not know how. She simply gripped him, with her hands, her mind, and extracted the life from his body, releasing it into the air using nothing but her willpower - and something new, something alien, lurking at the back of her mind. Released from the depths of her subconsciousness. She released him, watched emotionless as his lifeless corpse thumped onto the ground. Watched the horror on the survivor's faces as they saw a 13-year-old girl kill a grown man.
And then there was blackness.
"Commander? Yes, I'm checking in."
"Yes, sir. total, I, er, 'acquired' 6 children today."
"Thank you, sir, I trust the other officer's exploits were as fruitful."
"Very good, sir. Goodbye."
***
Claire awoke shivering, coated in a cold sweat. She rubbed her eyes blearily. Looked around.
Wait.
Where was she?
What had she done?
She'd killed a man, that's what she'd done.
Panic.
She had to run!
She had to get out!
Claire jumped off of the sofa she had been sitting on, charged through the nearest door, nearly knocking a girl of the same age as her over, and dashed at the front door. Flinging it open with somewhat excessive force, she ran outside.
And then realised where she was. She'd woken up in her friend's house - the girl she'd nearly flattened was her best friend, and now she was outside. Exposed again.
By the time she'd stopped running, Claire was very, very lost. She'd managed to get herself into a new part of the city that she'd never come across. She sat against a wall, and surveyed the area around her. Her dark blue jeans were stained with mud, and there was a rip in the right leg. Her top, a blue tank, wasn't much better. Although it was in slightly better condition than her jeans, it was still covered in mud and had become quite shabby, after a week of wear. Claire herself was slightly battered and not in the best of states, either - her hair was caked with dirt and she was covered in cuts and bruises. Despite this realisation, Claire knew that her personal appearance wasn't particularly important. She still wasn't safe from the police who were probably still looking for her. And the gang she'd become caught up with ;ast night would probably want to kill her as well. So Claire started to move again, wandering thorugh the streets and roads and marketplaces, looking for somewhere safe to go.
Eventually, she came across an open patch of grass - very useful. It allowed her to run easily from her persuers, as there were many exits. No-one would find her here.
Claire walked to the middle of the park, to a group of trees that stretched tall, their brown branches intertwined in some sort of fateful embrace. Despite the trees' presence, the space between them was light and ary, simple to see into or out of. She walked into the natural circle - sat within it. Contemplated. Lost herself in thought.
Minutes, maybe hours passed. Claire was never sure how much time passed, but she was jerked back to reality when she heard a screech of tires, and footsteps. Before she could turn around to see what was going on, a man grabbed her shoulder. He was tall, but non-descript. Impossible to describe. He almost blended into the scene behind him. Behind him stood a large green camper van - the driver's door was open, as was the back door. The windows were tinted and impossible to see through.
"You might have something we want, kid." he growled, as he gagged her roughly. "You're coming with me." He tied her hands together, shoved her into the back of the van, slammed the door, and, a few minutes later, drove off. Claire thrashed against the sides of the van, against the doors. But it was no use. When she finally looked around, she gasped - but the sound as muffled by the cloth over her mouth. Five or six other children were also sitting there, some crying, some simply silent. All gagged, all at the mercy of this man. Once again, Claire Fury was powerless to her fate. But not for long.
ETA: Changed a detail in the penultimate paragraph, and added a little more text to the last paragraph.
Anyway, on with the show. There are actually two posts here - one you've seen before, one you haven't.
Rain lashed the grey walls of the alleyway. It was nearly midnight, and the only light source was from a street lamp that towered above the dirty path. It was the sort of night where no-one was about except those that had to be.
Sprinting along the path was a young girl, her mousey brown hair whipping around her as the fierce wind caught it. She was breathing heavily - she had been running for a long time. She rounded a corner, and put her hands on her knees. She was out of energy - out of breath - out of time. The footsteps faded slightly - she'd lost her pursuers, for now.
This girl was Claire Fury. She had run away from home.
"No! I am not letting you control me anymore!"
Her parents had immediately contacted the police, and they had been searching for her for over a week. She had just walked for that time, foraging food and water from passers by whenever she reached a village or town. Mostly, however, she had kept to the shadows and back alleys, for fear of being found.
"Get back here, girl! We are not done with you!"
Finally, they had found her, sleeping outside a friend's house - she had arrived there in the middle of the night, so had decided to just sleep outside until the morning. This proved to be a mistake. The police had found her outside, and she barely escaped from them - from her parents.
"Hey! It's the girl! Don't let her get away again!"
After that, she had just ran for her life. The last thing she ever wanted was to go back to her parents - she couldn't bear that. However, something else was in store for her, something far more sinister. As she huddled against the wall, waiting for her heart to stop pounding and her head to stop spinning, a piece of the wall exploded next to her - it had been shot. In her misery, her pain, her breathlessness, she didn't hear a new set of footsteps approaching.
"Get out of here, kid. This is our turf", she heard. Looking up, she gazed into the eyes of a man who could easily kill her if she did not obey. He had a shaved head, square-set features, and in his hand was a handgun. He wore a simple black jacket with the insignia of a fox etched onto it. The very way he held it showed that he knew how to use it - and he was clearly the one that had fired at the wall. It was the only warning shot she'd get. Behind him were other men - all armed like the first man was, some more so. They wore the same jackets as their leader, with the same fox insignia. These men were clearly part of the same gang.
"I won't hurt you if you just leave this place - run far away, don't look back.. It's for your own good. Please."
The man she'd just registered as a cold, emotionless killer was almost pleading with her. Desperation cracked through his voice.
"I-I'm sorry, sir, I'll jus-"
She never finished her sentence. Bullets whistled through the air from her side - and she saw why the nameless gang leader had been desperate to get her out of the way.
"Oh SHIT, they're here! GET DOWN!" The nameless man's voice rang out over the shots. Pushing her down to the floor, he pointed his weapon towards the source of the gunshots and squeezed one, two, three rounds through it. Running through the hail of bullets, men dressed in green jackets charged wildly, firing their guns at everyone and anyone they could see that wasn't wearing their symbol.
It was a massacre. Claire couldn't move, couldn't even speak, lest she attracted the attention - and bullets - of these barbarians that were killing each other for no reason at all.
Seconds passed. Minutes, maybe even hours passed - no-one knew. Claire stayed in the same position, frozen stiff with fear. Eventually, the last gunshot rang out through the air, and the only sound left was the rain, still hammering down on the area. Claire looked up - everyone was dead or dying, except for one man. Squinting, she attempted to make out the colour on his jacket, to see if he was going to kill her or set her free. The seconds ticked on, her eyes shaking and blurring. She blinked. The person walked closer with each blink, each step almost drowned out by nature's lashing lament on the walls and ground. Eventually, her vision returned, and she saw with horror that the last man was a green-jacket. Now fate was to deal the next set of cards - the ones that decided what happened to Claire Fury next.
The man grabbed her. He sneered in her face as he dragged her upwards , pressing her against the wall as he searched her pockets for anything of value. Then, his hands crept... crept... searching her further, his eyes steely and cold. Suddenly, he dropped her and whirled around with a jump as he heard a faint voice.
"Leave h-her alone, you b-bitch. Sh-sh-she is innocent." she heard the redjacket leader stutter. He was severely injured, having been shot in the chest, but miraculously, he was still alive, although unable to move. Greenjacket walked over to him, and Claire, for what was possibly the fourth time that night, was powerless. Frozen in shock, as if in slow motion, she saw Greenjacket take the pistol from his belt, saw in seemingly infinite detail as he clicked the safety off, and as he pressed it to the redjacket's head.
"NO!" she cried. She jumped up, as a bolt of adrenaline surged through her, and lunged at the greenjacket before he could destroy yet another life. What happened next, she did not know. Rage overcame her, and she saw red, she saw white, she saw anger and misery and suffering and coldness, she saw the true pain in the world, she felt true hate, and then she saw nothing, only heard a voice in her head that said to her, simply:
"Kill him."
And she did, but she did not know how. She simply gripped him, with her hands, her mind, and extracted the life from his body, releasing it into the air using nothing but her willpower - and something new, something alien, lurking at the back of her mind. Released from the depths of her subconsciousness. She released him, watched emotionless as his lifeless corpse thumped onto the ground. Watched the horror on the survivor's faces as they saw a 13-year-old girl kill a grown man.
And then there was blackness.
"Commander? Yes, I'm checking in."
"Yes, sir. total, I, er, 'acquired' 6 children today."
"Thank you, sir, I trust the other officer's exploits were as fruitful."
"Very good, sir. Goodbye."
***
Claire awoke shivering, coated in a cold sweat. She rubbed her eyes blearily. Looked around.
Wait.
Where was she?
What had she done?
She'd killed a man, that's what she'd done.
Panic.
She had to run!
She had to get out!
Claire jumped off of the sofa she had been sitting on, charged through the nearest door, nearly knocking a girl of the same age as her over, and dashed at the front door. Flinging it open with somewhat excessive force, she ran outside.
And then realised where she was. She'd woken up in her friend's house - the girl she'd nearly flattened was her best friend, and now she was outside. Exposed again.
By the time she'd stopped running, Claire was very, very lost. She'd managed to get herself into a new part of the city that she'd never come across. She sat against a wall, and surveyed the area around her. Her dark blue jeans were stained with mud, and there was a rip in the right leg. Her top, a blue tank, wasn't much better. Although it was in slightly better condition than her jeans, it was still covered in mud and had become quite shabby, after a week of wear. Claire herself was slightly battered and not in the best of states, either - her hair was caked with dirt and she was covered in cuts and bruises. Despite this realisation, Claire knew that her personal appearance wasn't particularly important. She still wasn't safe from the police who were probably still looking for her. And the gang she'd become caught up with ;ast night would probably want to kill her as well. So Claire started to move again, wandering thorugh the streets and roads and marketplaces, looking for somewhere safe to go.
Eventually, she came across an open patch of grass - very useful. It allowed her to run easily from her persuers, as there were many exits. No-one would find her here.
Claire walked to the middle of the park, to a group of trees that stretched tall, their brown branches intertwined in some sort of fateful embrace. Despite the trees' presence, the space between them was light and ary, simple to see into or out of. She walked into the natural circle - sat within it. Contemplated. Lost herself in thought.
Minutes, maybe hours passed. Claire was never sure how much time passed, but she was jerked back to reality when she heard a screech of tires, and footsteps. Before she could turn around to see what was going on, a man grabbed her shoulder. He was tall, but non-descript. Impossible to describe. He almost blended into the scene behind him. Behind him stood a large green camper van - the driver's door was open, as was the back door. The windows were tinted and impossible to see through.
"You might have something we want, kid." he growled, as he gagged her roughly. "You're coming with me." He tied her hands together, shoved her into the back of the van, slammed the door, and, a few minutes later, drove off. Claire thrashed against the sides of the van, against the doors. But it was no use. When she finally looked around, she gasped - but the sound as muffled by the cloth over her mouth. Five or six other children were also sitting there, some crying, some simply silent. All gagged, all at the mercy of this man. Once again, Claire Fury was powerless to her fate. But not for long.
ETA: Changed a detail in the penultimate paragraph, and added a little more text to the last paragraph.