(Aug. 18, 2012  6:30 AM)GaHooleone Wrote: Did you and Shirayuki plan something, or...?

NoodooSoup Wrote:Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I think I've only gotten worse. I predict a third/second place in my near future.

New Blood. (Click to View)

I like to believe that no human deserves death. But that isn’t true; some do. Some truly do.

* * *

The alleyway is still, as is the lifeless body that lies on its damp grounds. Heavy silence replaced heavy breathing, only to be mixed with the sound of rain making its descent.

The body in question: formerly known as the infamous Red Streak Killer, a man linked to the four murders of innocent civilians. When the bodies were discovered, they’d all been marked with a streak of crimson. As fate would have it, he too now has one to match.

* * *

My next target resides in a bar on the lower part of the city, or so my sources say. The block is littered with gangly teenagers and 40-or so-year old men, which reek of tobacco and cheap cologne. The establishment itself is on the corner of the sketchy block, with its stained doors open to anyone above the age of 21.

The stench of fermented wastes and unwashed people wafts into my nose as I open the glass door. It’s not unlike this part of the city to have a building in such a haggard state.

Light filters in through grubby bulbs suspended from the ceiling. But, besides that, the place is dark; shadows creep around in every nook and cranny. Sounds of aimless rambling can be heard around the whole bar.

I take a seat on one of the worn out stools, and lean against the smooth, cool surface of the counter. To my left sits a woman, half-conscious, with bedraggled hair and makeup that looks like it’s been done by a blind person. One look into her milky-white eyes and I know she is, in fact, blind. She speaks in some sort of broken, heavily accented English to another woman, spilling out what seems to be, her endless sorrows. To my right, a rather large man guffaws manically. Neither looked like a homicidal maniac. I clear my throat.

The bartender, a small guy, glances towards me, clearly waiting for my word.

“Give me two of your most popular.” I say, placing some bills on the counter. He nods and mumbles something incomprehensible, taking a step back to gather his materials.

“Know anyone by the name of Malcolm around here?” I say to the man next to me, who’s busying himself with a colorful drink. He gives me a cold glare and then utters one word.

“No.”

It’s two minutes gone by and the bartender’s done, pouring some sort of multicolored drink into cups.

“Here’s your dri-“ he manages to say, before I cut him off with a question.

“Any regulars by the name of Malcolm?”

He gives a quick, silent jerk of his head, and my eyes follow his directions. In the booth at the corner sits a woman with strawberry blonde hair and striking make-up. Beautiful.

“I’m not looking for any women…” my voice is low and mumbled, with a distinguishable tone of awe.

“That’s your guy,” he says before leaving to tend to someone else. I give off a tired sigh, reaching into my coat pocket. A small paper packet brushes my fingers and I pull it out. It is decisively labeled “RSA” in small black print. One swipe of my hand and it’s open, letting its papery white contents into the drink.

I turn my head to the booth again, looking at the woman that goes by the name of “Malcolm” light something up. My legs lead the way to the lit up corner, and a honey-sweet smile plagues my face.

Before she can look up, I mutter a simple “hello” and sit across from her, sliding the spiked drink across the table. An annoyed sigh escapes her lips as she turn to face me.

“I’m not looking for any escapades,” she says, shutting her eyes tightly and exhaling a big plume of smoke into my face.

“I just wanted to buy such a beautiful young lady a drink. You look like you could use one.” I flash her a charming smile before getting up and leaving. That should do the trick.

It usually does.

* * *

A strong, metallic scent hangs in the air, which is humid and tinted with a shade of night. I am at peace, a serenity which could only be achieved through my justified deeds. A sticky red substance clings to the bottom of my boots and pools around yet another corpse. Its torso is mangled in the flesh by my bullet, by multiple bullets. Four, to be exact.

Footsteps echo through the city streets, police sirens blare in my ears. I can see the red and blue flashes in the near distance, rapidly approaching. I have one bullet left.

My body count is seven. Soon, it will be eight.

Too similar to Death Note, I know. Aaaaaaand, it might be a little too much to post on here; I mean, there are a few adult themes mentioned. Just a warning.

GaHooleone Wrote:This is meant to be a very random and disconnected story btw. Haha, this is a wonderfully insane story.

Spoiler (Click to View)

New Blood

Dave’s face turned white when his doctor showed him the results of the colonoscopy Dave had recently had.

“I’m sorry to tell you, but you seem to have terminal colon cancer.” Dr. Willis said gravely.

“How much longer do I have?” whispered Dave.

“About a month or so. However, you may choose to receive a blood transfusion if you wish. It will extend your time by about a month and a half, but the process takes time.”

“I’ll do it.” replied Dave. “I just need a little more time to finish everything that I needed to do in life before I pass away.”

“Very well, let’s get-”

Whoa, whoa, hold up!

Ga’Hooleone stops narrating for a second and begins looking around, wondering who was addressing him when he was obviously in the middle of an important story.

Ga, what the hell man! First, stop referring to yourself in third person. Second, what kind of a story is this? Clichés everywhere! And a COLONOSCOPY? Of all the medical exams to choose, you choose that one?

Ga-er, I peer into the shadows and notice a distinctively ginger-haired shape standing in the distance. Who else could this be but our resident plastic beyblade expert from down under, th!nk!

Yeah yeah, we all get it, it’s me. Now exactly why did you pick a colonoscopy for this guy, uh, Dave’s medical exam? You might as well have made it a prostate exam, that would’ve been less disturbing. Most people don’t want a metal rod shoved up their-

I quickly cut him off, eager to keep the story’s rating at PG and somewhat annoyed at his pointing out the flaw in my story.

I ran out of ideas, okay? Now let me get back to narrating, alright? Geez...

After finally finishing the paperwork within a few days, Dave was ready for his blood transfusion. He visited the America Red Cross Blood Donation Center to start the procedure. The receptionist greeted him with a wide, fake smile, trying to show enthusiasm to cheer up the terminally ill who have been walking through the doors every day for the past six years she has been working there. It takes a toll on a person’s soul, for sure.

Hah, that rhymed! Toll, soul, you see-

Shut up th!nk.

“Hello, what can I do for you?” queried the receptionist politely.

“Hi, I’m here for a blood transfusion.” replied Dave.

“Alright, what is your name and blood type?”

“David Barnes, B+.”

She started looking through the file cabinet, until she pulled out his file.

“Okay, you’re with Dr. Johnson in 23C. Have a nice day!”

“Now how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Dave thought, as he responded “You too.”

Dave walked down the immaculately white hallway until he stopped before a room labeled 23C. He opened the door and-

Alright, now’s my cue!

I paused for a second. Th!nk, what did I tell you...

Hey, that wasn’t me, bro.

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude. Duuuuuuuude. Dude, it’s me!

I freeze for a second as realization dawns upon me. Oh boy, here we go, it’s-

A very, very muscular brown guy walks out of the shadows and starts talking.

Dude, come on, it’s me! Zain!

I sighed. Yeah, I kn-

NO! He’s lying! screams th!nk as he jumps up and points an accusatory finger at Zain.

OBJECTION!

th!nk, this is obviously Zain.

NO! He’s lying! You can see him sweat! He’s not talking in a British accent! He isn’t breaking anyone’s legs!

th!nk-

I AM A PSYCHOLOGY STUDENT!

Zain at this point gets irritated and flicks th!nk in the face, sending him flying into the fourth wall and breaking both of th!nk’s legs and said wall in the process.

Anyway, Ga, please go back to narrating the story. I simply love to hear about this Dave’s adventures in the wonderful land of blood transfusions. says Zain as he dusts himself off.

What-err, right, yeah.

Dave opened the door and found himself surrounded by chrome. There were three dividers for four beds and there were several bags of blood in the freezer, which were currently being arranged by a doctor. The doctor turned around and walked over to shake his hand.

“Hello. You must be Dave. I’m Dr. Johnson.”

“Hello, Dr. Johnson. Yes, my name is Dave Barnes.”

Wasn’t that repetitive? I mean, they just repeated each other’s names. Even if it’s a greeting, it just seems like you’re adding it as filler. remarks Zain as he cooly interrupts my narration.

Eh, I guess. I’ll fix it later. Now, back to the-

GERRRRZ BERRRRRZ MAHURRRRRRZ! (I summon Dark Magician of Beywiki Chaos!)

Zain, th!nk and I all turn around in horror at this point. I involuntarily shudder as I whisper, Oh god, please no.

KEI GO AND CLEAN UP THAT MESS OVER THERE. STOP PLAYING YUGIOH ALREADY.

At this point a figure driving a wheelchair with someone in it steps out from the rubble of what used to be the fourth wall.

Oh, hello Dan. says th!nk. I see you brought Kei with you though.

Yeah, today isn’t my off day so I’m stuck with driving him around. No, NO KEI DO NOT TAKE CREDIT FOR MY CLEANING UP.

GERZEGEGRGEGGRGEGRGEGR BURZZZZZMAHAHAHAHHAHERRRZZABABABA RAKWAAAAAAAAAAAAA

GRAH SCREW THIS, JUST LET ME FINISH THE STORY THEN TALK ALL YOU WANT. I scream at this point, wanting to just finish the story for the final round of that competition on the WBO.

Dave found himself hooked up to several tubes. The bag of blood, Dr. Johnson told him, was from a healthy 24-year old with no medical history of any major diseases. Easily good enough to keep a terminally ill 52 year-old man alive for an extra month and a half.

“Alright, we’re ready to start. I hope you don’t react to anesthesia badly.” remarks Dr. Johnson.

Dave felt the anesthesia begin to spread throughout his body, and he let his eyes droop as the doctor began inserting an IV into him with the blood.

Oh, hi guys!

Zain turns around to see. Rai, is that you?

Yup! The figure replies as a bespectacled, stereotypical neo-Southern boy walks out of the shadows.

Well, at least he didn’t do something stupid this time like-

KIE-V!!!!11!1!!!!!!!!!111!1 i iZ hear 2 chAlinGe U! a random noob screams out as he jumps from the rubble.

DAMMIT CHODY THIS IS WHY YOU CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS. screams Dan as th!nk pulls out his banhammer and swings. A solid crack resounds throughout the room as kingkupa1 slides to the floor with blood dripping down from both his head and th!nk’s hammer.

AND THE HAMMER TAKES FRESH BLOOD! NEW BLOOD! th!nks laughs as he dances in place, hammer in hand. When none of us are laughing, he stops laughing and sighs.

None of you get it do you? Come on guys, it’s less funny when I have to explain it...The joke is that new blood equals fresh meat or noob. Ha? Haha?

th!nk sits back down with a sigh and Picards-I mean, facepalms. I, yet again, try to turn back to my story when a girl pops up.

Hey guys! It’s me, Insom- CRACK.

Insomniac, having been brought here by Raigeko13, pauses in mid-sentence as her eyes glaze over, and she falls to the ground with a large bump on the back of her head. th!nk stands with his bloody banhammer behind her, breathing heavily.

Didn’t want to risk having another new blood join us. he answered as he sat down and began cleaning his banhammer.

GERZ BERXIJNFWHADURZMAAAA-


SHUT UP KEI GO BACK TO SLEEP.

LOLOLOLOL-

Unable to take it anymore, I throw them all out of the room through the nonexistent fourth wall.

SHUT UP, GOD DAMMIT! ALL OF YOU!
------

Dave finally awakes and sees a purple unicorn in a lab coat shining a flashlight into his eyes. He flies out of the bed and starts hyperventilating.

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“Dave, calm down! It’s me, Dr. Johnson.” The purple unicorn raises its hooves in the air in a sign of peace. “The transfusion was successful, but there was one problem...”

“And what was that? Hallucinations?”

“Well, you see, the person we took the blood you received from died in a drunk driving accident yesterday. What we didn’t know was that his blood alcohol concentration was still incredibly high. So, for the next week or so, you’ll hallucinate and see visions and distorted people.”

As Dr. Johnson started morphing into a blue pony with a rainbow mane, green bubbles started rising from his hands and the room began to turn into a large cave.

“Just wonderful.” Dave said, and then he blacked out.

Frieza Wrote:Here's my entree for the contest!

Spoiler (Click to View)

It was September 1st, 1939. The day the Nazi’s evaded Poland.

I had to run through the sulfur-filled air. The Germans had dropped another bomb on us. My home had burned down and I was the only one who survived. I needed to take shelter, and fast.

All I had left was what was left of the clothes on my back.

The Germans and Slovakians were everywhere. Buildings were falling left and right. I had nowhere to hide. Or so I thought.

I decided to hide under a chunk of the wall from a building. I could only remember what my dad’s last words to me were.

“Run! Leave this place! Forget everything that’s happened today! But never forget us!” He said, right before he was crushed by the roof.

“Why does this have to happen to me…” I think. I hear the solders rush by. They don’t bother to look under the rocks. I decide to take a peak outside. It’s gotten even worse. I pull away right as another bomb is dropped.

It lands about a mile away, but it feels like it was right next to me. I put my hand on a sharp rock to try and get my leverage back. I let out a cry but cover my mouth. I lift my hand up to see a long cut down the palm.

I make a fist. It eases the pain a bit.

More solders rush past. But one stops. Right in front of the hole. I feel fear rushing down my back. He gets down on his knees and hands. I can’t do anything.

He looks inside the hole and sees me. It’s a German solder. I start shivering. His cold blue eyes stare into mine. Then, almost without my control, I shake my head and mouth the word “please”. The solder smiles.

“I won’t hurt you.” He says. “Just be careful, okay?”

I nod.

“All I can say is,” He starts. “Welcome to a world where dreams become nightmares. If you survive this, you’ve been to hell and back.” He gets up.

A man with a long coat walks up to him.

“Did you see anything under there?” He asks. The man has a high pitched voice. It wasn’t German. More Austrian than German.

“Nein, Hitler Sir.” The solder responds.

“Move along then!” The man, who I assume is Hitler, says.

“Yes Sir.” The solder responds. They both walk away.

I look up from under the chunk of wall. All of the solders are gone.

I decide to get up from where I was. I keep close to what’s left of buildings. I get to the main square. It’s buzzing with solders. I hide behind a wall.

They have a big platform set up. On the other side are…

Oh no.

Ropes to hang people with.

The man from earlier steps up to a podium. “Everybody! Fall in line!” He says.

The solders form lines. They salute this man. “Hail Hitler!” They all shout and stomp their feet.

“What are the doin-” I get cut off by a stabbing pain. I look down to see a knife that went right though my arm. I turn to see three solders.

“Welcome to hell.” The tallest one says. And before I know it, a bag is put over my head and my hands are tied. I black out.

Minutes Later

The bag is pulled off of my head. I am standing on the platform. The solders were laughing and pointing.

“What is going on?!” I think.

Hitler walks up to me.

“Now what do we have here?” He asks with an evil smile. He takes out a pocket knife and puts it to my neck. “Is it a poor child that thought he could escape my wrath?” He starts poking my neck with the knife. I see the blood start coming out of a cut he left.

I feel tears forming in my eyes.

“Look! He’s crying!” Says one of the men who caught me. This gets everyone laughing.

Hitler starts laughing, too. That’s my chance.

I spit in his eye and run.

Hitler stumbles backwards. I somehow get my hands untied and take off the rope. “Seize him!” Hitler shouts. Several solders follow me.

I feel the rage rising in me. I stop running and turn to them. “Leave me alone!” I shout. The blood from my cut shoots out at them. It slices right through their chests. They fall down, dead.

I run. I run out of Warsaw. I somehow make it to a town nearby and tell them what happened. “The Germans are coming!” I shout as I run through the streets. “They are coming-” I fall down.

People are staring at me. The last thing I see is another little boy standing over me.

“Welcome to hell…” I mumble before I die. “Welcome to hell…”

By "New Blood", I couldn't stop thinking about Twilight or something like that. The reason I decided to make my story like this is...
I decided to put my knowledge on World War II to the test. Sep. 1st, 1939 was the day the war started. Infesis on "New". And I used the killing part as the "Blood" part. And I put a little "Deadman Wonderland" type of twist on it. I hope you guys like it!

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:05 PM)Ginga Blader Wrote: Congrats to all the winners, especially Ga! He came out of nowhere! Was there any prizes?

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:09 PM)Ginga Blader Wrote: No, I mean nobody knew he would get this far, because I do not think he had ever written a story before.

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:16 PM)Frieza Wrote: I was listening to Nikki Minaj and wasn't focusing. XD

Quote:I feel the rage rising in me. I stop running and turn to them. “Leave me alone!” I shout. The blood from my cut shoots out at them. It slices right through their chests. They fall down, dead.

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:19 PM)Adele L. Adkins Wrote:

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:16 PM)Frieza Wrote: I was listening to Nikki Minaj and wasn't focusing. XD

Nikki Minaj's songs give you cancer

But yeah, all the entries were really good. Though something about this:

Quote:I feel the rage rising in me. I stop running and turn to them. “Leave me alone!” I shout. The blood from my cut shoots out at them. It slices right through their chests. They fall down, dead.

So, the blood is magical?

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:24 PM)Adele L. Adkins Wrote: Oh, I see. I don't watch any anime so I didn't notice any reference to other anime if there was any present.

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:25 PM)Frieza Wrote: That and I was hyped up on Mtn. Dew.

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:45 PM)GaHooleone Wrote: No, but Insomniac got knocked unconscious and was out for a day or two. She woke up with a large bump on the back of her head and the occasional loss of short-term memory afterward.

(Aug. 18, 2012  10:05 PM)Ginga Blader Wrote: Congrats to all the winners, especially Ga! He came out of nowhere! Was there any prizes?