Message: You like?
She moved the gun so it pointed at the dirty ground, waiting. She was waiting; this was her job, and she'd be damned if she wouldn't do it. She closed her eyes, gasping in pain, just a little. His little helpers had tried to deal with her, and come away with a severed head for their trouble. But not before they manage to cause considerable damage to her. She looked down at the knife lodged in her stomach. It seemed to be holding, with only a little blood seeping out the corners. She'd be dead by now if it hit anything vital.
Maybe she could get help, after this was all over; say something vague about an attacker in her home. It wouldn't be hard to set up that scene, and would get her the medical attention she needed. There might be a few faults, but they would only be found after she was long-gone from this country.
Her target came into sight before she had the thought to look for him; just walking - or rather, wobbling - along on his little feet. It was a miracle he didn't have circulation problems, the weight they were carrying. He was wearing white, a black belt keeping this pants from slipping down his sweaty legs. His hair and beard were silver-white, with bits of his old colour - black - spread through it.
She didn't dare move; for the pain, as well as the chance she was discovered. The location she was hiding in was basically the only place she could hide in, and one move would create enough sound to attract attention from a skilled assassin - which was only what this man could be. She was told that he sneaked into rooms in the middle of the night, undetected by even the best security systems.
In a way, she was doing the world a favour by bringing him down.
She aimed her gun, her memory flashing back to her days as a sniper. Nothing all that different from an assassin, really. Point the gun, throw the knife, pull the trigger, pour the poison. All pretty simple things that cause dyer consequences - quite literally.
The fact that his clothes were completely white didn't help his case. Really, that just made him more obvious; no hope of camouflage.
She readjusted the gun and stared down the end, making sure she would hit her target. Did she really want to do this? Was it enough money for a hit-and-run kill? Was she ever going to get the money, or were they going to flee the country? No. She'd track them down if they tried to run. She always did.
She squeezed her finger against the trigger, unaware of the loud bang as a bullet was sent into the chest of her target. His clothes stained steadily red, leaving only the fur around his collar and sleeves white.
After ensuring that he was dead, she got up and walked away. The knife was out of her thoughts, her possibly deadly wound cloaked by a more terrorising thought. Eventually, she collapsed onto a park bench, exhausted both emotionally and physically.
With the white fur, the red outfit, the big black boots, the belt. It was obvious.
She had just killed santa.
--
Have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year.
Happy Boxing day!
~The Mythologist
______________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: This story is in my writing shop, and a few more places in the forums. If you can find it, you can find my secret identity ;]. Tomorrow I will reveal myself, though; I'll post the link to the thread in your &Thank you& thread.
Have a very merry Christmas.
--
I do not have a sister.
But the reason why is worse than just never having had one born.
Or disowning.
Or anything so happy and wonderful and such a great alternative to this.
My sister is dead.
At just six years old, she noticed things that others didn't because they were focused on getting their stuff and getting home quickly. At just six years old, she lost her life because of this. She was the one that died in place of that toddler. She was the one that was smashed by the car. She was the one that the police literally had to scrape off the road. She was the one that only had a handful of remains to show for her bravery.
I had, admittedly, heard the noise of a car's brakes, hitting very, very hard. I'd thought nothing of it, because we were in a busy city and some idiots thought it would be best to speed at 80km/h before realizing they should have hit the brakes long ago. I hadn't turned around. I hadn't thought to look at my darling sister, standing so innocently beside me, waiting for her cupcake.
I despise cupcakes, now.
And if I had glanced... If I had realised that she HAD looked up at the noise, and that she was running, and that she was about to die... Even if I had realized that two-year-old would have died in her place if I stopped her... I could have stopped her. I know I could have. And I would have.
I'm sitting on the street. THE street, my arms wrapped around my knees. My head is buried somewhere into them. This is where my sister had died. This is -the- street, where an idiot parent had let their toddler run free onto the road with a speeding car coming down it. And this is where an idiot sister, the one who was responsible for everything that happened to her younger sibling, had let said sibling run onto the road, push that toddler out of the way and be squished in the process.
And the toddler had the nerve to cry because it fell on the concrete side walk. ******** it. My sister has fallen, period, because of it.
I am sobbing. I don't know when it started, and I certainly don't know when I'm going to feel like stopping. Probably never. Hopefully never. I hope I will never stop mourning the most beautiful little girl in the world, the little girl I would have died to save, had I had the time to. Tears are running down my face, streaking through the patches of dirt that had amounted in my self-loathing, and sobs are rippling through my chest.
If my parents saw me, they'd try to comfort me. Say it wasn't my fault.
But really, it was. It was all my damned fault. I'm the one that wanted to buy her a cupcake that day. I'm the one that didn't pay attention that day. Mine are the eyes that didn't flicker over, concerned, to her, when they heard the car brakes.
And my parents know all this. They blame me on the inside, I can see it in their eyes.
I despise cupcakes, now.
Vaguely, I'm aware of my boyfriend coming to pick me up and cradle me, making hushing noises and saying it wasn't my fault. I hate my boyfriend. It was my fault. Why wouldn't he let me take the blame? I just want to be left alone. By him, by my parents, by everyone. There's just one person that was ever allowed to see me in my states like these. And she can't exactly see me anymore, since her eyeballs and blood were smeared all over the road.
I should have looked up that day. I should not have been so focused on cupcakes. I should have seen her running, at least, and pushed her aside as well as the toddler, taking the impact myself.
I despise cupcak -
I despise myself, now.
--
I'm going to bed now, and tomorrow will be Christmas. Have a brilliant day. You are amazing.
~G - I mean, The Story Teller
________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Serenity for something there-
acceptable, defined through beast.
Against the hazy source of sere,
immense dark light began to feast.
Every shadow, lurker neared,
blighted- surrounds went blank.
Essence of us now ripple teared
but feelings for you never sank.
-Poetic Greens
______________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: I appreciate the gesture of the balloon, and I recognise it. You can drop it if you want and get the rosy little nose back, I don't mind at all icon_wink.gif
I hope you like the Beetles. I couldn't ask you without blowing my cover, though.
Here's another story for you ~
--
A massive, blue expanse of space. This is exactly what Ringo saw as he stared out his window, one hand holding back the blinds just enough for him to peer through, and the other occupied by a small, yogurt-covered snack bar. Occasionally, Ringo could see a flash of silver, catching sight of a tail before the fish would whip out of sight once more. He was considerably bored - living thousands of feet under water was not quite as fun as it had seemed in the pamphlet.
Ringo's feet were covered by typical sneakers, completely white apart from a single red streak reaching from the heel of the shoe to the toes. The dark denim of jeans hovered just above these sneakers, and above that, a plain white t-shirt. His head, meanwhile, was adorned with a cowboy's hat, leather to the touch but typical felt from a distance. Trying not to care that he was being a wannabe in his outfit, Ringo pulled his shoelaces until they hugged his feet so tightly that he was afraid he'd disturb his blood circulation. He shoved the whole of the rest of his small dairy snack into his mouth and turned on his bed.
His head hit the wall more heavily than he had intended, and stars popped into his vision. He had to shake his head to diminish them. Ringo realized that he had to remember that the walls were made of metal, before carrying on. He swung his legs over his very narrow bed, trying to avoid disturbing Paul, who was sleeping only a few feet below him. Ringo slid off his bed into the narrow passageway and made his way to the control room, it being his turn to pilot the submarine.
Ringo was greeted by angry voices. John and George, Ringo soon discovered, were the source of this. &Woah, woah, guys... Quit it. Cut it out!& Ringo struggled to be heard above the bout of yelling. &I said QUIT IT!&
John and George turned to glare at Ringo.
&What?& They asked, simultaneously. Ringo shuddered - this was going to be a long shift.
&Just... Don't fight when we're up and about, okay? I mean, guys, we get little enough sleep as it is. We don't need to spend our waking hours tiring ourselves out.& Ringo's words seemed to have an effect on the two - or, at least, their shoulders relaxed and their expressions softened.
&Sorry, mate. It won't happen again.& They muttered. Ringo wasn't foolish enough to believe this in the slightest, but still kept his mouth shut as he collapsed in front of the controls.
No, he thought to himself. Living in a submarine was -not- fun.
--
Lots of love. Remember that you ARE awesome, and that you should always smile. Remember! 9x + 7i & 3(3x + 7u).
Can't do it? Well...
9x + 7i & 9x + 21u
7i & 21u (subtract 9x from both sides)
Divide both by seven.
Get...
i & 3u.
~ The Story Teller
OR
~ Your new lurker/stalker Anon
________________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Dear My Sweet little Aumbre Sweets. Wait! Is that Toby Turner is your post format? OH MY GOD YESSSSS; wait it isn't? Darn ,
Well, back to business. Sweetie I'm not any ordinary Christmas Fairy Apprentice, I'm a Christmas fairy from the future. To be honest, I'm not quit familiar with this so called &Christmas.& In my time we do not have Christmas, quiet disappointing, really. Anyways, no more of this hodge-podge. Back to your Christmas gift, because I am not familiar this &Christmas& I just took a shot in the dark. Oh well. OH GOD, OH GOD! I hope I got this right!
I wish you a very Merry Christmas; or whatever you call this Merry Holiday.
Love,
Your very own Christmas Fairy Apprentice.
__________________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: To make up for the little gift before. I was in a rush, I had just finished your story. But this will make it better, I hope. ^.^
~The Story Teller
____________________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: All the sweet words
and stories you're told,
that s**t's for nerds.
I want hard, shiny GOLD
-The Pragmatist
___________________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: I have naught to give,
but give I must;
A reminder of truth and love
should be enough, I trust.
You may well be
the most valued gift receiv'd.
-The White Fairy
__________________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Who ever you are, whatever you're doing, no matter what you feel like at the moment:
You are beautiful, and intelligent, and awesome, and cool, and great, and everything between awesome and infinitely great. Smile. You are beautiful!
--
The sun was still strong, and with it, it brought them.
The air was too clear when it floated down into my lungs. It hurt to breathe it - I needed to find something to smell. It stung with nothingness. The tall buildings on either side of me with their beige walls failed to help my cause. They were everywhere. I failed to see a clear escape route.
I gulped down some more air, wincing not because of the pain but because I had another sudden thought.
My family had left me already, run into the shadows. I still hold a grudge against them for that. But it was no time to give up grudges. Heck, I should take them to the grave. It's not like I can give them up now. I mean, my family -are- all dead.
The street was deserted. I hardly expected anything more, since the shadows were of so many here. I had walked willingly into their trap, lulled into a false senes of security by the position of the shadows. I had fallen asleep.
The shadows. They move, given time. A full rotation over a period. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west - the shadows start facing west and gradually move east, countering the sun. Basic survival skills - you'll always know which way is north.
Unfortunately, no-one ever created a handbook on keeping out of the shadows. No-one ever warns against falling asleep in the sunlight in a street, giving the shadows time to move and trap you until you fall to your knees and pray that the shadows don't hurt you. No, they just give you friendly tips on using a pocketknife.
One deep breath. It was going to be my last one, I was sure. It wasn't a comforting thought, especially when it clawed going down my throat. I ran into the shadows, only to be pinned down by a man in his late 30's, a devilish grin on his face.
&And that, my dear, is the end of the human population.&
My predicament shortened what used to be a lengthy life. There wasn't an escape route. There just -wasn't-.
He pinned my arms and legs to the ground.
His cold breath rasped in my ear.
&Are you scared of The Shadow King? Of me?
Do you toss and turn at night, not quite trusting the darkness? Are you scared?&
He bent down closer and I felt my soul resist with all its might, trying to banish his presence, trying to stay in my body.
My vision was darkening around the edges, and my alarm matched the tiredness rushing through my body.
I stole away into unconsciousness, into death, with his last words echoing in my head.
&Because, quite frankly, my dear... You should be.&
--
Have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year. &3
~The ORIGINAL~
~The Story Teller
______________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: No one expects...
- The Spanish Inquisition!
(P.S. Merry Christmas)
___________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: . . . I'm not very good at this. M-Merry Christmas! &///& (Utatane Piko)
________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Sliver lighting, the haze of the mist, the white of the snow. All of these compained create a passion of the winter and of xmas. A time of merriment and joy, peace and giving, and of cheer. Take this gift and have a merry year.
signed,
Elvish Wolf
___________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Playing on your computer late one night you decide to stretch and get some fresh air. Walking over to your window you open it and notice that the moon is full tonight. You let the moon light shine down on you for a moment as the crisp air blows gently over your body. You feel a presence in front of you and open your eyes, taking a step back, startled. Someone is there smiling at you holding up a present as if they wanted you to take it. They set it down on the window sill and take a step back. As you reach for the present and pick it up the wind blows your window shut. Opening it to see if the person was still there you saw nothing. Only the moon lighting up the night.
Happy Holidays,
-The Moon
_____________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Something Has Happened!
The Pastry Faerie appears in a puff of...syrup-scented smoke? She holds a tray of delicious cookies in one hand, but mysteriously hands you a Taiyaki instead!
_______________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: In my arms, you'll find your desires and wants fulfilled. I'll shower your body with affection, with my lips and hands. We'll be close, and soon enough, we'll be the closest any two bodies can be. You'll scream and moan, and you'll experience ecstasy.
-Gideon
______________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Let's spread cheer to all that are near,
Share the love and joy of the holiday cheers,
Let's break down this barrier
Because more is merrier!
Merry Christmas! icon_smile.gif
~A little Christmas elf you most likely saw once~
P.S. I'm a little new to the poems.. But I tried.
P.P.S. I hope you enjoy it, though it's not all too expensive...
_________________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: I hope we can be friends
though you will never know who these were from but why
if not for the fact
you seemed so cute
then reconising your name
Repo man awesome!
but if you ever see me eye to eye
I'll spill my secrets of my new devotion
my wishful thinking.
______________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: Could it be
is it you
the special one
that one searches for
wishes for
wants
desires
needs
but wait
maybe more
we can only see.
_____________________________
From: An anonymous benefactor
Message: To think on this night I would find you
the one I had searched for
you who are true
and just as wounderful
with amazment
you who are but a single rose
that stands tall
in golfed by weeds
you who shines brighter then the sun
for you I give yee this.
___________________________________
I love all my anon messages so much <3
if truthfully anyone reads these and knows which they sent me I'd love to say hello
:3
if truthfully anyone reads these and knows which they sent me I'd love to say hello
:3
