Wednesday, December 3, 2008

   Alley ways, another story, read at will
The foggy morning settled in on Metrolipse. I turned on the TV grabbing a powdered doughnut. Channel seventy seven news played another awkward murder. Same old two to six holes in the throat, the victim bloodless. This has been happening for five years, and all my investigations turn up nothing. All leads take me to dead ends. All witness murdered. No sign of anyone who committed the act. I turned to look at my mail. Bills, bills and more bills, sighing I grabbed another snowed over doughnut. The only reason I bother even looking at all these murders is because the government pays my bills. Taking a satisfactory bite out of the dusted delight I grabbed my hat. My trench coat swaged with my movement. I headed out of my small and cramped apartment down the four cases of stairs that I have traveled down so many times and out into the street. The cold air took me by surprise blowing my trench coat behind me. It marked my wake in the wind and I marched onwards.
Stopping in front of a local TV shop I saw the news. The female Asian reporter spoke with a murder victim picture behind her. The roars of engines and the squeaks of breaks sounded in the hallowed city alleys from the motorized cars. The buildings surrounded the streets making everything a maze. The murder took place on 9th iron street and 101st street crossing. That was enough for me, I moved on wards in a radical pace among the hordes of people. Wearing their business suits and ties, I munched down on my powder treat as I thought.
I had arrived at the murder scene. There was a club about four blocks down, it was a night club. The kind with the flashy lights and the loud techno, these late up clubs have been nearby for all seven hundred murders I have investigated; everyone the same, a club nearby, no signs of a struggle and occasionally a sexual object like a condom or a bra. I crouched down over the puddle of blood by the bricked corner of the 40 story building. The fog began to clear up as the sun was setting high in the sky. Another long day it seems, I pulled out a note pad and wrote down the scene. Puddle of blood about two feet wide by a foot and a half long and recent. Running down the wall from what would be the usual point of kill, the throat. A garbage can was to my left. Looking over without getting up I noticed a yellow plastic see through wrapper lying down. I walked over to it and poked it with my pen. It was a condom. The news reported the female victim about 20 years of age, that’s prime time party life for the normal person. The club only justifies it more. Whoever our murder is he/she likes targeting the party people. A tin can fell over banging down in the ally way. I instinctively grabbed my 44 magnum. A retro weapon compared today’s weapons, but still packs a punch. An armored swat VTOL flew over head. Releasing the handle of my magnum still resting in its holster, I got up and walked away, note pad in hand. I decided to explore the dance club for some leads.
My stomach rumbled. It was time for some java and powder delights. Opening the door into the doughnut shop I placed six fifty on the counter. “Will it be the usually Bill” said Jenna.
“Yea extra snowed if you can babe”
“Not a problem Mr. Detective…” said Jenna sarcastically.
“Thanks” I grabbed the white filler and the java and headed for my usual corner. Sitting down I began to slurp down some hot java on the cold fall day. The blinds were half drawn and open letting the sunlight in. A couple where making out on the corner of an alley way between the shop and the bank. The girl looked about 20 and the guy looked maybe 21. He was really white, pale white maybe more like sheep wool white. The guy wore jeans and a leather jacket. The girl pointed down the alley way and the couple took off. I had a gut instinct on this, or that doughnut was more stuffed then my mind. I downed my Java. Getting up at a quick pace I set out for the door. “Got a lead, do we detective?” said Jenna
“Ya babe” I said. I took off through the door ringing the bell. The jingle of the bell sounded my leave and into the alley I went. It was a long and dark path. I came up on a rusty green dumpster. I heard giggling around the corner, I peaked the corner slowly. The guy had his pants slightly off and the girl was warped around his waist with her legs. I turned my head back keeping my cool. I sat down and leaned against the dumpster listing to them. “Oh baby” the girl said. I listened more and a hissing sound like that from a snake played out. The girl screamed and then all was silent. I got back up and turned the corner. The guy was biting the girl’s throat and gulping. I grabbed my 44 and trained it on the guy. I aimed and shot for his head as he held the limp babe. The bullet splattered in his skull and sent him tumbling to the ground. Running up to the babe still looking at the guy on the ground I glanced at her throat. Two punctures in mid throat just like our murderer. I looked back for the man on the ground and he was gone. His brains where splattered across the floor that doesn’t make sense.
A lion’s roar sounded over the 12ft brick wall at the end of the alley way fallowed by a hiss. In confusion I tripped up my hat. I heard the brawling of boxers and then with a loud thud the guy, I just shot, came flying back over the wall. He landed on the ground next to me. His eyes where wide and a fire orange like a piece of wood in the fire place on Christmas Eve. The guy moved with unnatural speed and stood back up with my trained eye barely noticing. Then a giant leaped over the wall. Its ears pulled back and its mouth grizzled bearing rows of jagged teeth like broken beer bottles. It had the muscles of the hulk and the fur of man’s best friend. The two stood and looked at each other for a moment. Then in an instant a fury of blows swung out from each side. Punches flew pummeling each other. The guy was grabbed with over sized clawed talons and squeezed. The sheep like guy spazzed and tried to escape but failed. The over sized beast bit down on the guy ripping his head off and his torso apart in a fury of blood and organs. Red covered the ground ever where. A swat VTOL sounded it sirens over head. The beast looked up and took off hoping over the 12ft wall with the elegance of a rabbit. The VTOL lowered down to a nearby roof and swat began unloading and running towards the ally way. Whatever just happened placed my head deep in the gutter…

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Tuesday, December 2, 2008

   Fallen
No body stands tall forever. Every god falls, every angel. It is impossible not too. It is when we decend from the clouds, that humans look up to for there silver linning, that we must act graceful. We must not see our selevs as gods, as warriors, as angels. We must blend and meld. Become quite and humbel. Emotions allowed to flow, but quitely not to disturb your self farther and fall farther. You fall to hit the ground and stay at the ground till you regroup. Find your balence in life. Re lite the fire of inspiration. With inspriation flows the powers of sprit and courage. With renewed pious zealot fire you look up at the heavens. Your wings slowly expand from your back to stretch back and up towards the heavens where the tips point like a spear. With a firey passion in your heart you run forward towards the cliffs. The final judgement is placed, fall or rise. You leap off the cliff. Flying through the air...your wings flap. Yours eyes ignigte with a firey dedication to complete all goals. You flap and rise. Rise above the lost and to the clouds, but you still help; decending back to lend a guiding hand. Sometimes though when we go back down no matter how many countless times we have, we all crash land ocassionaly and have to relearn how to fly.
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Sunday, November 30, 2008

A terror
The world sleeps and i must feel awake for it around it. My eyes grow heavy. I grow old and weary. less Impulse. More thought. Less care. More help. Less this more that. Well i have delt with all of that and think that the tides of the world are trying to bring me down. I shall shine my sheild to the world and block the waves. I will weild my sword and slash through the tide to mark my path. I will wear my rusty armor. It chiffs and squeaks with every step from being worn at a early age. The red cape is torn, shot and muddy. I ware no helmit for i do not fear to face my foe. Charge! i say. My feet go tumbling along stopping down all doubts and fears. Like a juggernaught i become on stoppable. Smashing and destorying what lays way into my path. Only to stumble down and pick my self back up with missing a beat. My armor is dented. My sheild is bent and my cape is lost. I grow tired of the world, but the world never grows tired of my heroism. Little by little i m falling apart. My sword is chipped all over. The handel is rusty and hard to grip. I grow tired, but where armor grows old and worn. New shall be made! shall be shiney and new so the world carry on with me. The world needs every hero and every commander it has to offer. The world needs us. We dont need the world! Take your capes and where them proud and true. Take your armor and bare it like a symbol of hornor. Bring the light that from which came from the heavens it self down to the world blow lighting the paths traveled for those that can not carve there way into the world. Guide the cowrly people along the path. Weild the torch that lights the way. Be what you are, be what you want. Be the hero. The warrior and most inportantly Be the worlds world.
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Saturday, November 29, 2008

Mighty
We are mighty because we do what is impossible. We lack powers, We lack strength but we bulster in courage and determination. That is what makes us mighty. We hold the world up with our might and with our might we can bring it down. Sides are ment to be played. Good evil. Emeny ally. The world is divided because we all are mighty, but the world is united because we are mighty and we weild our might against those that use there might to harm the un mighty or the unable. We are all mighty.....
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Ever felt like your world jenga?
Wooden logs stacked high. Bit by Bit the wood is removed. The tower more unstable. The world spinns the tower rocks back and forth. My world has a strong foundation. That his been put to the test. The building blocks on top of that going higher and higher to the sky. Wiggling left to right, ocassionaly a brick falls. It hits the ground. But the founndation remains. The tower holds but it chips and weakens. No one around to save the tower. No one to save me. The world is around for me to save because i have a foundation but no one to hold my balence...
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Thursday, November 27, 2008

turkeys!
"THE TURKEYS ARE COMING...." yelled private chicken.
"Bring out the flack cannons" said the commanding rooster.
The horde of turkeys ran over the hills bloting out the horizon. Hundreds by hundreds there brown feathers covered the land advancing on the chicken land. "Open fire!" yelled the Rooster. The flak shells rang out type writer fashion. The shells tore through the crazed turkeys. There feathers flew up in a poof like fashion. They dropped down but merely slowed. The chickens felt the pressure build as the goobles of the turkeys grew louder and louder over the flack shells. "Prepair for close combat." yelled the command rooster. The chickens ran together swarming the swarm. Feathers went flying....happy thanks giving.
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Wednesday, November 26, 2008

   To response to Animeangel1993
Why would you bother fighting in the first place for a goal you have in mind when someone is going to come to steal it right back from you? You fight for the gain and the feeling of victory over the place. The momentary feeling of all that fades and then the right to protect that victory with your life. You can fight for something to win it. But you can fight 100 times harder to protect something you won. We fight for everything because we need to. We need that feeling that we have someone and the idea to protect them. You need that thought that the world needs your hand and that is why you fight. "A person can weild a weapon and fight hard, But a person can defend something with his fists and take down a entire armada"-Max H.
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RAWR!
Fight to the death, That is easy. Stand against all odds. That is easy. Face the sword that will stabb you. That is easy. Face the man weilding the weapon. Standing up and fight for a cause. That is easy. It is easy to stand and fight but, it is even easyer not to fight, but there is no fun in not fighting. We all need to find away to release our rage our anger. Like a raging bull we charge out of the gates to gore each other. We smile and laugh about it, snarl, snort, even glare eveily. We pretend it was a joke untill someting happens. Then it is a war. War is what we say to the end game. Self destruction in all ways. Tanks will roll. Jeeps will speed. Cars will go. Citizens will become soldiers. Children will become the future soldiers. Wars will carry on wards till the end of the earth because we want to prove a bloody point. But what happens when a side doesnt care. Is pacfist. Peaceful to all means. And trys to help you. You cant destory them with out the guilt laying behind the curtians. Monks are warriors with care. The world should look to it.
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Tuesday, November 25, 2008

   Forsakened.
We stand for what is right. To the world it is wrong. To the world we fight because we are volgour demonised and hated. These are true to the emeny. We fight because we stand, that makes us volgor, we fight to the bitter end and that makes us demonised. We are hated because we make sure every last emeny is destoryed. There is no line just start and finished. We are hated for this because the ones that are connected to those that are destoryed are gone and causes a great sadness, but, this is war. Thus we must not judge the emenys emeny or the worlds hate, but its ablity to love. A soldier once told me long time ago, back in the trench wars. "We fight because we are asked, not because we are forced. We fight because we believe this is what is right and that this land belongs to us. We fight for our dreams our goals and our ideas. Thus the fighting can not end, will not end, for waging war for your dream peacefully is never possible."- Max H.
Is this true to your eyes?
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Sunday, November 23, 2008

War of terror the telli tubby version.
ya the title says what i m thinking but for once the panda has run out of awesome things to place or say. sorry.
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