Post by problem on Jul 27, 2015 20:00:14 GMT -5
I forgot about this and never did finish it but, here it is, some old cult related writing from back in the early days. Read it and question the sanity of the admins.
"Some legends are told...." Problem sang in a quiet haunting lilt as she stepped over yet another body. Another person who’d fallen before her bat and her ambition. "Some turn to dust-" She hummed swinging said bat and crushing it into a screaming escapees skull. Her grin widened ever more as she came across a child cowering behind a pile of rubble. She reached out and clasped her hand around her shoulder, dragging the now whimpering kid to her side. "or to gold." she cooed, smoothing her hand through dusty, wild hair.
“But you will remember me.” The child let out a quiet hiccup of a sob as Problem began leading her towards the edge of town, always keeping her just at her side, even as she killed again and again and again until freckles of red bathed them both. Soon it was just the two of them, or so the girl though. Slowly, as if out of the woodwork other girls began to trickle into sight. Some appearing out of the shadows and others over the tops of buildings. All of them were armed and blank faced and looking to Problem for direction. The blonde woman smiled at them, a strangely gentle expression on a face so bloody. “Remember me.” She spoke clearly and calmly and the girls nodded, already moving into action. One of them, more of a woman then the children and teen’s around her gathered the child her leader had chosen into her arms and carried her off.
Behind them they left an empty broken town that Problem shot one last look at as they left. She grinned and it was nothing like the sweet look she gave to her children, this one was all malice and glory and triumph in a single twist of lips. “For centuries.” She hissed before turning and abandoning the now desecrated metropolis.
"And I won't stop," Problem screeched standing up before her army with a megaphone in one hand and a bloody bat in her other. She gestured about herself with a sick grin, "till the whole world knows my name!" Turning she raised her bat high, "cause I was only born inside my dreams!" Her children behind her raised their arms and cheered, a loud din of rebellion. Smirking as she turned she gestured for one of her daughters to bring forth the boy who'd dared to think he could escape. Her child grinned as she pushed him up to the front and shoved him to his knees before her leader and mother.
Problem smiled sweetly down at the terrified boy and tapped the end of her bat underneath his chin, "until you die for me." She cooed before pulling it back and smashing it into his head. He fell without a sound and she turned back to her children, bat raised high and drenched in fresh blood. "As long as theres a light!" She yelled and reveled in their answering cry.
"My shadows over you-" she cooed to her ever growing army of children, "cause I am the opposite," the blonde turned then, eyes glinting a violent gray as they surveyed the burning town she'd left in her wake, "of amnesia."
"And you're a cherry blossom," Problem sighed readjusting the gun in her youngest daughter's hand, "you're about to bloom." The girl's hands shook violently around the barrel, the other end pointed at a cowering man, "you look so pretty." As the shot rang the girl crumpled to the ground sobbing and Problem sighed running her hand through her hair and grinning smugly, "but you're gone so soon."
"Some legends are told," Problem hummed, hands bound behind her back as she was led up to the gallows. She grinned at the audience gathered safely behind a line of guards, they flinched and she snickered. "Some turn to dust," her eyes slipped up to the rooftops surrounding the courtyard and caught on a young girl. Her short, dark hair was held back in a headband and her eyes were just as malice bright as her mothers. A gun was held in her hands, trained on the man leading Problem ever closer to a rope and a quick fall.
"Or to gold." She continued to look about, staring briefly at each of her children spirited in among the shadows and soldiers and the audience gathered to see her die. As she stepped up before the rope her grin grew ever wider. "But you will remember me." She swore sweetly and almost swore she could hear the safety of tens of guns being switched off. "Remember me," gunshots.
They echoed about the courtyard shortly followed by screams and in seconds she had cut the ropes that bound her and turned, grabbing a knife off a surprised guard and slipping it easily home into his throat. She sighed as he fell with a bloody gurgle, a fine counterpoint to the cacophony of chaos at her back. "For centuries."
Tapi sneered around at the girls lined up in dutiful quiet rows. So orderly and disciplined and at their head was Chroma, Problem’s beloved eldest, watching them all with a clinical blank expression on her face. “Put on your war paint.” She muttered and the girl next to her gasped and shot her an incredulous look. Tapi met it with a smirk and the other’s expression wavered before turning serious again.
She turned to the girl next to her and muttered a fervent, “put on your war paint.” Similarly the girl looked shocked briefly before passing the message along. On and on it went and Tapi’s smirk grew ever wider as it passed throughout nearly a half of Problem’s ranks. She turned that look up to the portrait of the blonde that stood staring down at all of them from high above and sneered again.
“You are a brick tied to me thats dragging me down.” She snapped, her glare heavy and full of malice. “Strike a match,” a quick glance to her steadily widening pool of ready insurgents, “and i’ll burn you to the ground.”
“We are the jack-o-lanterns,” the girl on her other side whispered.
”In July.” She muttered back and the girl nodded and suddenly across the room the fire alarm was pulled. Everyone looked around in confusion and began to push and shove and make noise. Chroma attempted to gain control of the masses but in the midst of the panic Tapi managed to slip up behind her and press a knife to her slender neck. She froze and Tapi smiled, lips by her ear as she hissed, “setting fire to the sky.” Moments later, Chroma was on the ground, unconscious and Tapi stood before the small army before her, but a portion of a much larger force. She grinned and raised her knife high, setting her foot on Chroma’s prone back. “Here it comes this rising tide!”
He stands alone, cape billowing off behind him, a color half pulled between white and black and oddly stark against the vibrant colors of the sunset. The teen sighed, and the quiet sound of it carried a heavy cloud of hot breath into the cold winter air surrounding him. “They say we are what we are,” He hummed fishing a lighter and a packet of black sludge and white powder out of his shirt. “But we don’t have to be.” His hands were sure and steady as they pealed the packet open and dropped its contents on the ground with a wet plop.
“I’m bad behavior,” the black haired teen said kneeling down in front of the now hissing pile, “but I do it in the best way.” He regarded it with a slowly curling smile, passing his hand through the smoke. “I’ll be the watcher,” his lighter was flicked open and a little burst of orange flared to life. “Of the eternal.” Smile widening he set the goop and powder ablaze and listened as it screamed, the fire growing and growing and casting gray shadows across his face, “flame.” He finished with a quiet hiss.
As smoke billowed up, rising high and beginning to spread like a blanket across the sky he stood, grinning up at it and spreading his arms wide. “I’ll be the guard dog!” He yelled with an exuberant laugh as he backed up, spinning in a joyous circle as his spell began to work its toll on the bright landscape. “Of all your fever dreams!” The nearby town, far below the cliff he stood on looked on in horror, hands covering shocked gaping mouths and pointing at the sky in horror as children hid behind their parents backs, clutching at them desperately.
As the gray shadow fell over the first of the citizen’s he dropped to his knees, clutching his head and screaming, “Oooooh!” The color bled out of him, leaving him a stark pale gray and up above the teen with that very namesake laughed.
“I am the sand,” he cried joyously, “in the bottom of the hourglass!”
Yet more people fell, color and vibrancy replaced with a stark obvious gray. “Ooooh!” They continued to moan as they dropped one by one. A steady chorus of pain and despair.
Grey laughed, now standing at the edge of the cliff, leaning so far over the side that he may fall off at any moment. “I try to picture me without you,” he cooed to the ever darkening town, “but I can’t.”
Finally, the entirety of the populace was left kneeling on the ground, blank faced and bleached of color. Their dull lifeless eyes stared up at him, almost beseeching in their emptiness. He smiled gently and twitched his fingers in a beckoning gesture and like zombies they all lurched to their feet at once and began marching towards him. He sighed in pure bliss and tugged a paper out of his pocket. On it was written news of the ever worsening war between the mass murder Problem and her once loyal companion Tapi.
“Cause we could be immortals.” He whispered, mind flashing back to that day so many months ago when Problem had held a knife to his throat and declared him a weakling, a symbol, a dog to merely be cute down. And then she’d left him for dead, and they had all just watched.
He sneered and crumpled the paper, adding to its many crinkles. “Just not for long.” His eyes once more fixed on his approaching subjects, newly minted and ready for battle and he grinned again. “For long.”
"Some legends are told...." Problem sang in a quiet haunting lilt as she stepped over yet another body. Another person who’d fallen before her bat and her ambition. "Some turn to dust-" She hummed swinging said bat and crushing it into a screaming escapees skull. Her grin widened ever more as she came across a child cowering behind a pile of rubble. She reached out and clasped her hand around her shoulder, dragging the now whimpering kid to her side. "or to gold." she cooed, smoothing her hand through dusty, wild hair.
“But you will remember me.” The child let out a quiet hiccup of a sob as Problem began leading her towards the edge of town, always keeping her just at her side, even as she killed again and again and again until freckles of red bathed them both. Soon it was just the two of them, or so the girl though. Slowly, as if out of the woodwork other girls began to trickle into sight. Some appearing out of the shadows and others over the tops of buildings. All of them were armed and blank faced and looking to Problem for direction. The blonde woman smiled at them, a strangely gentle expression on a face so bloody. “Remember me.” She spoke clearly and calmly and the girls nodded, already moving into action. One of them, more of a woman then the children and teen’s around her gathered the child her leader had chosen into her arms and carried her off.
Behind them they left an empty broken town that Problem shot one last look at as they left. She grinned and it was nothing like the sweet look she gave to her children, this one was all malice and glory and triumph in a single twist of lips. “For centuries.” She hissed before turning and abandoning the now desecrated metropolis.
"And I won't stop," Problem screeched standing up before her army with a megaphone in one hand and a bloody bat in her other. She gestured about herself with a sick grin, "till the whole world knows my name!" Turning she raised her bat high, "cause I was only born inside my dreams!" Her children behind her raised their arms and cheered, a loud din of rebellion. Smirking as she turned she gestured for one of her daughters to bring forth the boy who'd dared to think he could escape. Her child grinned as she pushed him up to the front and shoved him to his knees before her leader and mother.
Problem smiled sweetly down at the terrified boy and tapped the end of her bat underneath his chin, "until you die for me." She cooed before pulling it back and smashing it into his head. He fell without a sound and she turned back to her children, bat raised high and drenched in fresh blood. "As long as theres a light!" She yelled and reveled in their answering cry.
"My shadows over you-" she cooed to her ever growing army of children, "cause I am the opposite," the blonde turned then, eyes glinting a violent gray as they surveyed the burning town she'd left in her wake, "of amnesia."
"And you're a cherry blossom," Problem sighed readjusting the gun in her youngest daughter's hand, "you're about to bloom." The girl's hands shook violently around the barrel, the other end pointed at a cowering man, "you look so pretty." As the shot rang the girl crumpled to the ground sobbing and Problem sighed running her hand through her hair and grinning smugly, "but you're gone so soon."
"Some legends are told," Problem hummed, hands bound behind her back as she was led up to the gallows. She grinned at the audience gathered safely behind a line of guards, they flinched and she snickered. "Some turn to dust," her eyes slipped up to the rooftops surrounding the courtyard and caught on a young girl. Her short, dark hair was held back in a headband and her eyes were just as malice bright as her mothers. A gun was held in her hands, trained on the man leading Problem ever closer to a rope and a quick fall.
"Or to gold." She continued to look about, staring briefly at each of her children spirited in among the shadows and soldiers and the audience gathered to see her die. As she stepped up before the rope her grin grew ever wider. "But you will remember me." She swore sweetly and almost swore she could hear the safety of tens of guns being switched off. "Remember me," gunshots.
They echoed about the courtyard shortly followed by screams and in seconds she had cut the ropes that bound her and turned, grabbing a knife off a surprised guard and slipping it easily home into his throat. She sighed as he fell with a bloody gurgle, a fine counterpoint to the cacophony of chaos at her back. "For centuries."
Tapi sneered around at the girls lined up in dutiful quiet rows. So orderly and disciplined and at their head was Chroma, Problem’s beloved eldest, watching them all with a clinical blank expression on her face. “Put on your war paint.” She muttered and the girl next to her gasped and shot her an incredulous look. Tapi met it with a smirk and the other’s expression wavered before turning serious again.
She turned to the girl next to her and muttered a fervent, “put on your war paint.” Similarly the girl looked shocked briefly before passing the message along. On and on it went and Tapi’s smirk grew ever wider as it passed throughout nearly a half of Problem’s ranks. She turned that look up to the portrait of the blonde that stood staring down at all of them from high above and sneered again.
“You are a brick tied to me thats dragging me down.” She snapped, her glare heavy and full of malice. “Strike a match,” a quick glance to her steadily widening pool of ready insurgents, “and i’ll burn you to the ground.”
“We are the jack-o-lanterns,” the girl on her other side whispered.
”In July.” She muttered back and the girl nodded and suddenly across the room the fire alarm was pulled. Everyone looked around in confusion and began to push and shove and make noise. Chroma attempted to gain control of the masses but in the midst of the panic Tapi managed to slip up behind her and press a knife to her slender neck. She froze and Tapi smiled, lips by her ear as she hissed, “setting fire to the sky.” Moments later, Chroma was on the ground, unconscious and Tapi stood before the small army before her, but a portion of a much larger force. She grinned and raised her knife high, setting her foot on Chroma’s prone back. “Here it comes this rising tide!”
He stands alone, cape billowing off behind him, a color half pulled between white and black and oddly stark against the vibrant colors of the sunset. The teen sighed, and the quiet sound of it carried a heavy cloud of hot breath into the cold winter air surrounding him. “They say we are what we are,” He hummed fishing a lighter and a packet of black sludge and white powder out of his shirt. “But we don’t have to be.” His hands were sure and steady as they pealed the packet open and dropped its contents on the ground with a wet plop.
“I’m bad behavior,” the black haired teen said kneeling down in front of the now hissing pile, “but I do it in the best way.” He regarded it with a slowly curling smile, passing his hand through the smoke. “I’ll be the watcher,” his lighter was flicked open and a little burst of orange flared to life. “Of the eternal.” Smile widening he set the goop and powder ablaze and listened as it screamed, the fire growing and growing and casting gray shadows across his face, “flame.” He finished with a quiet hiss.
As smoke billowed up, rising high and beginning to spread like a blanket across the sky he stood, grinning up at it and spreading his arms wide. “I’ll be the guard dog!” He yelled with an exuberant laugh as he backed up, spinning in a joyous circle as his spell began to work its toll on the bright landscape. “Of all your fever dreams!” The nearby town, far below the cliff he stood on looked on in horror, hands covering shocked gaping mouths and pointing at the sky in horror as children hid behind their parents backs, clutching at them desperately.
As the gray shadow fell over the first of the citizen’s he dropped to his knees, clutching his head and screaming, “Oooooh!” The color bled out of him, leaving him a stark pale gray and up above the teen with that very namesake laughed.
“I am the sand,” he cried joyously, “in the bottom of the hourglass!”
Yet more people fell, color and vibrancy replaced with a stark obvious gray. “Ooooh!” They continued to moan as they dropped one by one. A steady chorus of pain and despair.
Grey laughed, now standing at the edge of the cliff, leaning so far over the side that he may fall off at any moment. “I try to picture me without you,” he cooed to the ever darkening town, “but I can’t.”
Finally, the entirety of the populace was left kneeling on the ground, blank faced and bleached of color. Their dull lifeless eyes stared up at him, almost beseeching in their emptiness. He smiled gently and twitched his fingers in a beckoning gesture and like zombies they all lurched to their feet at once and began marching towards him. He sighed in pure bliss and tugged a paper out of his pocket. On it was written news of the ever worsening war between the mass murder Problem and her once loyal companion Tapi.
“Cause we could be immortals.” He whispered, mind flashing back to that day so many months ago when Problem had held a knife to his throat and declared him a weakling, a symbol, a dog to merely be cute down. And then she’d left him for dead, and they had all just watched.
He sneered and crumpled the paper, adding to its many crinkles. “Just not for long.” His eyes once more fixed on his approaching subjects, newly minted and ready for battle and he grinned again. “For long.”