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7:32pm Jul 29 2010
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Normal User
Posts: 1,446
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And so my dear children, don't come near me, because I have broken my streak of not writing any stories at ALL for 1 year or so. thus, I'm making you read this lame, and entirely boring history of Deathbed, which I'm not finished typing yet. A loud crash and bang could be heard. “Hey! Come back here!” A workman called in a powerful voice as a huge skeletal beast came charging out of a warehouse, crashing through a thick window plastered with all sorts of propaganda. I’ll never return. The beast thought grimly, unfurling his skeletal wings and preparing for flight. Never again will I be slave. Never again will I be weak. Gliding as fast as he could, the vaguely feline form of the beast was losing ground. Several slave traders were on gondra’s, all hand picked for servant recapture. Hate clouded the creature’s vision, turning everything around him red. Too weak and malnourished to fight, the skeletal feline was using all it’s energy to fly, fly far away from the hated humans, to fly to freedom, where he could find peace. That was all he ever wanted. Suddenly, a shout rang out, jarring the creature from his thoughts. Too late to escape, the feline suddenly realized a soft, but sturdy rope was looped over his neck. A new human appeared, this one like the others, but slicker, slyer. “Hey! What are you doing!?! The old human master shouted, clearly enraged. The second replied, his voice soft and cold. “Clearly it is too late. I have captured the black ebilia. It is mine now. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” The second human suddenly chuckled, his slick fingers rubbing the ebilia’s ears. It was clearly meant to be a comforting motion, yet the ebilia hated it. Snarling, he bared it’s fangs at the human, who smirked back. “Well, well, well. Looks like somebody has a temper. Well no worries. Soon, my precious kitty, you’ll learn to never take that tone at me.” The oily human smiled gently, lucid for a second. But it was enough for the ebilia to soften it’s gesture, to stare at the human in confusion. In the minute he had softened, the human suddenly slashed at the ebilia with a bullwhip, attacking his muzzle, ears, and neck. With one last flick that stung near the ebilia’s eye, the human smiled. “I think I’ll call you Scumwing.?” He muttered softly, the name apparently pleasing him. For now, you may call me Master. Isn’t that right Scumwing?” The ebilia merely glared at Master, china blue eyes blazing hatred and fury. Dragging the ebilia by the rope, the Master shouted something, and a black gondra, much larger than the ones his old master used to ride, took off, nearly strangling Scumwing in the process. After what seemed like a millennium, they finally landed the gondra, the human, and the severely malnourished black ebilia. “Now Scumwing. You’ll be taking it easy these few days eh? But I’m warning you. Escapees aren’t treated very nicely here. In fact, they haven’t even survived the punishments.” Sneering at him, the human began laughing, pointing his finger cruelly at Scumwing, who’s eyes began to turn red in hatred. With a yowl, Scumwing bashed against the cage wildly, trying to attack wipe the laughter off his face. For a week it continued like this, always, the Master came and insulted him, and always the master would humiliate him in some sort of way until Scumwing’s body began to pulse with n unburnable hatred. What I would do to attack someone right now…. He thought one days, baring his teeth in anticipation. To kill, to attack, to feel the soft flesh of anything living ripping between my claws. He soon got his wish. Within 5 weeks of insane torture, Scumwing had finally turned into something the Master wanted; a killing machine. That day, Scumwing paced in circles, trying to burn off this endless energy he felt burning inside him, a strange anticipation settling over him, causing his fur to prickle and itch, yet… No matter how hard he scratched, it refused to go away. Suddenly, hearing a noise, his head jerked up, ready to attack, to kill, to sink his teeth into fleshy human skin. A hand jerked into his vision range and with the swiftness of a heron catching fish, popped a steel muzzle around his mouth and attached a choke chain around his neck. Snarling, Scumwing hissed his displeasure, unsheathing his claws. “Now quiet kitty, or you’ll get a taste of my saw.” The worked snarled, acne pitted face hover close to his. Quickly tossing Scumwing into a dimly lit arena and releasing him from his chains, the worker lept back and slammed the Iron Gate shut with a resounding BANG. Scumwing slinked into a corner, suddenly noticing he was in a pit, surrounded by dozens of humans, the smell of liquor heavy in his nostrils. So they’ve come to watch something…. He observed, ears twitching, catching the sound of a rusted iron bar unlatching. To see a fight….? Suddenly, he was bowled over by a towering figure. Without a glance up, Scumwing jerked up and latched his fangs and claws into the soft underbelly of the creature, ripping and tearing until the entire arena was covered with blood. With a feeble swing of its muscular neck, an albino vogar tried to toss him off, but couldn’t. Dropping to its knee’s, it collapsed, the vogar’s life force entirely spent. A shocked pause prevailed, and then a rough growl spoke up. “I do believe that all you fellows here owe me a total of 3 billion tu pure. Well?! What are you waiting for? Get those checkbooks out, come on!” Pausing, the thick bearded man who spoke up eyed Scumwing thoughtfully. “How much for that fellow there?” he growled, jerking his thumb towards the ebilia, who still stood in the middle of the arena, muzzle dripping with crimson blood. After a flurry of movement, Scumwing found himself being carried to the bearded human’s home. “We’ll get you right fixed up.” He spoke, his voice like low thunder. “Then., you’ll earn me millions!” Several years had past, and Scumwing, now with no name, was wandering the alleys, having gone through several owners after the bearded man. He was lean, and he was cold, and he was vicious. He had no chance of anyone claiming him as a pet, nor of any adopting him. However happy he was with the freedom, his stomach was constantly empty, and he envied those pets who were soft and kind, with gentle owners to bring them home on a snowy evening. The ebilia had none, so he was forced to steal. Mostly successful, he had managed to keep himself alive with some particles of pizza he had taken. That was, until a bright sunny summer day, when he saw a tall, slight girl selling all sorts of goods with a small band of black ebilias right behind her, muscular and lean, even the kittens. Thinking he could outsmart them all, the former Scumwing suddenly zipped past the girl, snatched an entire chicken from her stand and took off, legs pounding against the rough earth. Wweee :D FAILURE TIEM> Yus. Feel free to comment on my failure.
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