Post by master on Feb 2, 2006 5:41:06 GMT -5
ok, a few people have wanted to read some of my story before it's finished, so i thought i'd just post a bit here. this is just the beginning, but i hope you like it. if ya want it, i may post some more later. well, here it is.
many unanswerable questions arise in life. you can search your entire existence, and find many clues, but never solve these mysteries. but still we search.. still we spend lifetimes in diligent searching for these answers that don't exist. we sacrifice everything just to find out who we are, we fight endlessly to know why we're here, and we kill many, simply to know what death is. on your death bed, when the great light is just in view, and the tunnel finally has an end, you must ask yourself... was it worth it?
he was a young man, though not like the others. he hadn't had an easy life, though in comparison to others, it wasn't that bad. he had his health, a roof over his head, and more money than most poor people could boast of. but still, he didn't have everything. in honesty, that's probably a good thing. if his life had been any different, he may not be who he is. he may not be the young man sitting on his bed. whether it would have been for the better, or for the worse, he wouldn't be him. and that, was something that always comforted him. as he lay on his bed, slowly drifting off to sleep, thoughts of his life came to him. it was truly odd, since he didn't seem to be in control of his own mind. he was dreaming almost, but fully awake. as he watched his life fly by him, he wondered the question..."is it worth it?"
he watched his life go by, and drifted off to sleep. the last image he saw before he fell into his sleep, was himself laying on that bed at that moment. after a few hours of sleep, he was awakened by a loud sound. like the chirping of several very loud, very annoying birds. it was the alarm on his door. "oh great..." he said, standing up "who turned that damned thing on?!" half awake as he walked in his room for his door. he stopped in the middle, pulling a pair of pants up that were hanging on his desk chair, and putting them on. he grabbed a shirt from the floor, putting it on and sighing. that sound was seriously getting on his nerves, and no doubt his mother's too. he reached his hand for the doorknob, and as if he caused it, a shot was heard when his hand touched the cold knob.
his eyes shot open as wide as possible, and he moved quickly to a nearby wall. the shot was from the next room, his mother's. he quickly grabbed his two swords that were leaning against the wall, and held them securely in his hands, both still in the sheaths. neither matched each other, and neither were particularly amazing, but they were his only means of defense, cause he didn't believe in guns. "too easy to kill someone" he always said, along with "if you're gonna fight, use your own skills, don't rely on a machine" and many other reasons. in the end, he just didn't use them, even if he could afford one. without hesitation, he burst out of his room with swords in hand. his jaw dropped in horror as he looked through the open doorway to his dying mother, laying helplessly on her bed. she didn't look very pained, her disease caused more pain than a bullet could, but her blood spilling across her bed was enough to horrify anyone. the boy didn't even notice the men standing around him, and just charged into the room. he even pushed one aside to go to his mother, looking to her with great sadness. tears swelled in his eyes as she looked back to him, a light smile on her face.
"Michael... I’m glad you're ok..."
her hand slowly raised up, moving to Michael’s cheek and resting there, before falling to the bed.
tears were streaming down michael's cheeks as he looked to his dead mother.
"mom...mom....mom!! come on, it's not funny... wake up!"
the men from around him were all watching, of course. they thought they might as well let him see his mother one more time, before then reunited them. one of them clapped, he seemed like the leader.
"bravo. excellent performance. I don't usually like dramas, but this one sure put a smile on my face.."
Michael didn't look like he was listening to the man as his eyes closed, the tears hitting his shirt. he looked to them all, picking up the blades he had dropped in sorrow. his expression was still of sadness, as he looked to the leader.
"why would you do this...?"
the men around him seemed to be in some sort of uniform, a black one that looked like military. the leader shrugged, unhooking his pistol and aiming it at michael.
"it was an order."
the men around him seemed a little uninterested, standing impatiently and watching between their leader and a small nuisance.
"the order was 'kill that woman and her son. they're in the way"
the man sighed.
"now time to finish the job..."
Michael’s face turned to disbelief. his mother had died by someone who didn't even know who they were killing, simply cause she was in the way, though he didn't know what that part meant. in his right hand, a heavy short sword shook with rage as his thumb unsnapped the scabbard from the hilt. in his left hand, he released his grip on the sheath's handle and without a snap, the cloth sheath fell to the ground, showing a light short sword. the hard leather scabbard of his other sword held on still, as michael prepared.
the man before him laughed
"all in vain"
before pulling the trigger. blood shot against the wall behind michael, as the blood of his small dog shot from his little body. having woken up and found himself without his master, he looked around and found this incident. he jumped up for attention, and was shot on accident. michael's eyes widened, first his mother, now his only friend. as his dog's limp body fell to the bed next to his mother. michael shook with rage. the man readied to fire, but too late. michael spun and flung the hard leather scabbard at the man, hitting his head and knocking off his aim, the bullet hitting the wall. michael charged, the other men lifting their rifles to the ready. they fired, but once again, too late. the light sword was stuck into the leader's stomach, and the man made a perfect shield for the bullets. as his eyes blazed with rage, he charged. the blade, fully through the leader, stabbed into the man behind him.
michael spun, lodging the large blade into a man beside him as he simultaneously drew the blade from the leader and drove it into a man beyond his second kill. holding them both as shields, he waited a moment before dropping them and charging for another. he drove both blades into the man and, straining, pulled them both out his sides. blood sprayed everywhere, and michael stood in a layer of it. two were left, standing beside each other. they took aim, firing. michael fell to the ground and rolled out of the room. the men both charged out, just as michael swung. the first man lost his head, and another layer of blood coated his killer. the last man left stopped right in front of the blade, looking scared. michael moved and stood right in front of him, holding the gun beside him securely with one arm.
"tell me... is it true...?"
he drove his light blade into the man's side, having it come from his shoulder.
"did you see your life before your eyes?"
the man's eyes were wide as he fell back, jaw dropped. michael drew his blade out and stood, looking over the carnage he had created. ignoring the men in a sea of blood around him, he walked to the bed, setting his blades against the wall and looking over the two creatures he cared for most in this hopeless world. he reached a hand over, closing his mother's eyes. he looked down, his one true friend laying motionless. he reached a hand down, petting the small animal as another tear fell.
many unanswerable questions arise in life. you can search your entire existence, and find many clues, but never solve these mysteries. but still we search.. still we spend lifetimes in diligent searching for these answers that don't exist. we sacrifice everything just to find out who we are, we fight endlessly to know why we're here, and we kill many, simply to know what death is. on your death bed, when the great light is just in view, and the tunnel finally has an end, you must ask yourself... was it worth it?
he was a young man, though not like the others. he hadn't had an easy life, though in comparison to others, it wasn't that bad. he had his health, a roof over his head, and more money than most poor people could boast of. but still, he didn't have everything. in honesty, that's probably a good thing. if his life had been any different, he may not be who he is. he may not be the young man sitting on his bed. whether it would have been for the better, or for the worse, he wouldn't be him. and that, was something that always comforted him. as he lay on his bed, slowly drifting off to sleep, thoughts of his life came to him. it was truly odd, since he didn't seem to be in control of his own mind. he was dreaming almost, but fully awake. as he watched his life fly by him, he wondered the question..."is it worth it?"
he watched his life go by, and drifted off to sleep. the last image he saw before he fell into his sleep, was himself laying on that bed at that moment. after a few hours of sleep, he was awakened by a loud sound. like the chirping of several very loud, very annoying birds. it was the alarm on his door. "oh great..." he said, standing up "who turned that damned thing on?!" half awake as he walked in his room for his door. he stopped in the middle, pulling a pair of pants up that were hanging on his desk chair, and putting them on. he grabbed a shirt from the floor, putting it on and sighing. that sound was seriously getting on his nerves, and no doubt his mother's too. he reached his hand for the doorknob, and as if he caused it, a shot was heard when his hand touched the cold knob.
his eyes shot open as wide as possible, and he moved quickly to a nearby wall. the shot was from the next room, his mother's. he quickly grabbed his two swords that were leaning against the wall, and held them securely in his hands, both still in the sheaths. neither matched each other, and neither were particularly amazing, but they were his only means of defense, cause he didn't believe in guns. "too easy to kill someone" he always said, along with "if you're gonna fight, use your own skills, don't rely on a machine" and many other reasons. in the end, he just didn't use them, even if he could afford one. without hesitation, he burst out of his room with swords in hand. his jaw dropped in horror as he looked through the open doorway to his dying mother, laying helplessly on her bed. she didn't look very pained, her disease caused more pain than a bullet could, but her blood spilling across her bed was enough to horrify anyone. the boy didn't even notice the men standing around him, and just charged into the room. he even pushed one aside to go to his mother, looking to her with great sadness. tears swelled in his eyes as she looked back to him, a light smile on her face.
"Michael... I’m glad you're ok..."
her hand slowly raised up, moving to Michael’s cheek and resting there, before falling to the bed.
tears were streaming down michael's cheeks as he looked to his dead mother.
"mom...mom....mom!! come on, it's not funny... wake up!"
the men from around him were all watching, of course. they thought they might as well let him see his mother one more time, before then reunited them. one of them clapped, he seemed like the leader.
"bravo. excellent performance. I don't usually like dramas, but this one sure put a smile on my face.."
Michael didn't look like he was listening to the man as his eyes closed, the tears hitting his shirt. he looked to them all, picking up the blades he had dropped in sorrow. his expression was still of sadness, as he looked to the leader.
"why would you do this...?"
the men around him seemed to be in some sort of uniform, a black one that looked like military. the leader shrugged, unhooking his pistol and aiming it at michael.
"it was an order."
the men around him seemed a little uninterested, standing impatiently and watching between their leader and a small nuisance.
"the order was 'kill that woman and her son. they're in the way"
the man sighed.
"now time to finish the job..."
Michael’s face turned to disbelief. his mother had died by someone who didn't even know who they were killing, simply cause she was in the way, though he didn't know what that part meant. in his right hand, a heavy short sword shook with rage as his thumb unsnapped the scabbard from the hilt. in his left hand, he released his grip on the sheath's handle and without a snap, the cloth sheath fell to the ground, showing a light short sword. the hard leather scabbard of his other sword held on still, as michael prepared.
the man before him laughed
"all in vain"
before pulling the trigger. blood shot against the wall behind michael, as the blood of his small dog shot from his little body. having woken up and found himself without his master, he looked around and found this incident. he jumped up for attention, and was shot on accident. michael's eyes widened, first his mother, now his only friend. as his dog's limp body fell to the bed next to his mother. michael shook with rage. the man readied to fire, but too late. michael spun and flung the hard leather scabbard at the man, hitting his head and knocking off his aim, the bullet hitting the wall. michael charged, the other men lifting their rifles to the ready. they fired, but once again, too late. the light sword was stuck into the leader's stomach, and the man made a perfect shield for the bullets. as his eyes blazed with rage, he charged. the blade, fully through the leader, stabbed into the man behind him.
michael spun, lodging the large blade into a man beside him as he simultaneously drew the blade from the leader and drove it into a man beyond his second kill. holding them both as shields, he waited a moment before dropping them and charging for another. he drove both blades into the man and, straining, pulled them both out his sides. blood sprayed everywhere, and michael stood in a layer of it. two were left, standing beside each other. they took aim, firing. michael fell to the ground and rolled out of the room. the men both charged out, just as michael swung. the first man lost his head, and another layer of blood coated his killer. the last man left stopped right in front of the blade, looking scared. michael moved and stood right in front of him, holding the gun beside him securely with one arm.
"tell me... is it true...?"
he drove his light blade into the man's side, having it come from his shoulder.
"did you see your life before your eyes?"
the man's eyes were wide as he fell back, jaw dropped. michael drew his blade out and stood, looking over the carnage he had created. ignoring the men in a sea of blood around him, he walked to the bed, setting his blades against the wall and looking over the two creatures he cared for most in this hopeless world. he reached a hand over, closing his mother's eyes. he looked down, his one true friend laying motionless. he reached a hand down, petting the small animal as another tear fell.