Saturday, 10 September 2011


Fuck them. Just...


They don't realize that this is a war. A war that needs to be fought. A war where people die. Where people kill.

So fuck them. They would be dead if I hand't been there. Rayne would be lying in a fucking ditch, because as much of a "survivalist" he might be, it wasn't his fucking cargo pants that saved him, it was me.

They came out of nowhere. Alleyways are always the best place to hide, but we always forget that someone else might also be hiding in there.

There were... I don't know, six of them. Wearing masks of different motifs, each thinking they would be the next Totheark or Morningstar. Well, maybe one of them might have, but that's distinctly in the past tense.

The first one ran at Rayne, knife in hand, and Rayne... Rayne fucking froze. The guy would ripped the guts out of him if my knife wasn't already wrist deep the proxy shit's neck. The second one took the logical step and went for me. He swung a baseball bat and gave me a pretty solid hit in the jaw. This time Rayne was the one to respond. Four red circles appeared in rapid succession on the proxy's chest, puncturing his lungs. He was out for the count.

The other four started running. I wasn't done, and if Rayne or Lauren had thought for one goddamn second, then they would have realized the proxies weren't either. My own gun rose, the shells Rayne had so readily supplied shredding the closest one's abdomen. Three left. Lauren screamed something. I fired again, sending chunks of brain and bone flying against the wall. Two left. Now Rayne was shouting too. Bang. One left.

"It's over, man!"

Another shot. Too far to be a kill. Hit him in the shoulder, but it was enough. Not everyone can deal with pain. I certainly couldn't when this started. The last proxy keeled over, landing on his side, clutching his arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Lauren this time. Staring. Judging. I showed her that I can stare too. No more complaints.

The proxy lay whimpering at the other end of the alley, his blood slowly draining onto the pavement. I could hear him as I got closer.

"Okay, man! Don't kill me... I... You win! Okay! You win!"

Closer. Open wounds where the fragments had torn through skin and flesh. Idiot. He could have walked away.

"You don't have to do this! This isn't my fault... I have a friend who's-"

Almost there. Rayne whispered something to Lauren. Lies.

"Shit... Shit... Shi-"

I put my foot on his throat and aimed downwards. Rayne finally decided to speak.

"Stop, man. It's over. Just stop. It's not right."

We looked at each other for a very long time. I dropped the gun. Everyone sighed.

Then I stomped.


I know they're looking at me right now. Naive. They thought it would be all fun and games, interspersed with little happy battles where the bad guys just get away. Well they don't and they shouldn't. I don't know how long I can last here. Stop. Staring at me.


  1. The cracks are showing, Glass Man. Are they new or were they always there, ever since you were born again. Cracked glass, with missing shards, scattered to the wind. Are you the windowpane, or are you the shards?

    Why the quick response? Oh, I've been reading around. Pleasant to see people are still posting. Maduin's insane, Zabulon is going to throw jelly at Slender Man (an event which I would actually like to attend), and Kay...
    Oh poor Kay. Life hasn't been treating you too well. Is there anyone but you left now?
    And Morningstar, since I know you also read this... Break her.

  2. If you're going to post on my blog, then at least use your fucking name you insane fuck. Also, Morningstar isn't going to be "breaking" anything anytime soon. Check his blog.