Have you got a game, book or movie you'd like to make a story out of? Want to expand on a story or plot that stopped? Have an original idea for a story that you want to post somewhere? Here's where to do it. Basically an RPG where one player controls ALL characters in the story.


Postby Hopeflower » Fri Feb 25, 2011 5:51 pm

As I write this, they’re all dying. My family. My friends. The wound on my arm burns and it feels like my veins are pumping liquid fire through my body instead of blood. My throat is dry, my eyes burn. My skin seems to be crawling, and I have to fight the urge to claw at my arms. I can hear them crying out for help. But there is no help I can give, nothing I can do…

Sh*t. I can hear that damned sound. Claws clicking on the marble floor of the kitchen. Soft chattering and hissing sounds as they communicate with each other.

They’re almost here.

It won’t be long now…

~ 1 ~

It started in a dingy bar, in a shady corner of town. Or, at least, that’s what they would have you believe.

It wasn’t unusual to find quite a few men and women here at this time of night. A few of them were here to play a few games of pool or catch up with old friends. Some of them were hoping to bring home a date; others were drunks looking to get away from a life they viewed as hell.

Hell, the tall figure thought with a snort. He could teach these people a thing or two about the meaning behind the word.

He was dressed fairly inconspicuously; all black, with combat boots and a trench coat. The coat made sense on this night; it was fairly chilly, even inside the bar.

The air in here reeked of cigarette smoke, stale and fresh, sweat, and alcohol. Here and there someone was seated on one of the bar stools or in one of the booths. In several places there were puddles of liquid on the floor, beer or vomit he didn’t know. He didn’t care to find out; he simply stepped almost gingerly around the puddles.

He didn’t sit at the bar, but proceeded towards the pool table, which was old and scuffed up. A few people were standing around it, chatting. A redhead with a tribal dragon tattoo on her shoulder was actually playing. She was bent over, aiming her shot. A cigarette rested between her lips; the lower was pierced. She had an eyebrow stud too, and a few sets of ear piercings. And like the man, she was dressed all in black.

She glanced up as he approached. “James.” Her voice was low, seductive, and faintly accented, if slightly muffled by the way she had to mumble to keep the cancer-stick from falling to the table. “Always a pleasure.”

He gave her a thin smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. “Marjolaine. Likewise.”

She took her shot, the pool stick striking the cue ball, which bounced off several other balls with a harsh clatter. She relaxed, standing up straight and taking a deep inhale before removing the cigarette from her mouth. Her eyes never left the pool table as she blew the smoke back out slowly.

“I know you never look for me unless you want something,” she said as the balls stopped rolling. One of them had been sunk in the corner pocket. “So what is it you want this time, James?”

“What I said I just came to talk?”

A disbelieving laugh escaped her; she tossed her red curls and said, “If I believed that I’d believe anything.”

He grabbed her wrist as she moved to take another shot, and gazed steadily at her. “I came to talk business,” he said more quietly.

“Yeah?” Marjolaine looked wary. “Well I’m not here for business, honey. You want to talk business; you can wait like any other guy.”

“I’m not just ‘any other guy’,” James said coldly. “As you know, Marjolaine.”

“Let go, James.”

“No. We’re going to talk. Come.”

He took the pool stick from her hand, handed it to a random man, and practically dragged her out the door. He glared at the few who dared protest at his treatment of a lady as he pushed open the swinging door and stepped out into the cool fall night, ignoring Marjolaine’s cursing. Even as he approached his car, he began to speak.

“Parker has a job for you.”

“Parker? Thomas Parker?” she asked, abandoning her struggles as surprise flooded her mind. James took the opportunity to unlock and open the passenger door and give her a firm nudge towards the car.

“The very same. I believe he wanted to discuss it with you in person, but he gave me a file to give to you.” After she climbed in, still reluctant despite her grudging curiosity, he shut the door and walked around the car to the driver’s side.

“What’s so urgent that he couldn’t wait for me to get back from my vacation?” Marjolaine asked suspiciously. She’d taken a week off from her job, feeling she’d earned and needed the break. No one could argue otherwise. She’d been running herself ragged, doing errands for Parker. James was his right-hand man, and even though he didn’t lord his position above the others, there was a quiet resentment in some people’s voices when they spoke of him.

And no wonder. James was only twenty-three, very young to have such a high position in the company. Both he and Marjolaine worked for Thomas Parker, in a small underground business that had no official name. Few knew of it, and they were the ones that worked there.

“No clue,” James said, shrugging as he started the car. “The file was for your eyes only.” He handed it to her. She took it as if it were a poisonous snake that would swing around and bite her, and opened it.

There were several pieces of lined paper inside. With Parker’s handwriting on them. Frowning, she let her eyes skim the page. She stopped when she saw the words “genetic experimentation”, and read:

...more successful than intended. The genetic experimentation with human DNA and the DNA of other animals has resulted in the ultimate predator. It escaped and killed several guards before our staff secured it again.

Knowing it was too dangerous to keep it alive, we had planned to kill it while it rested. But somehow it eluded us and is on the loose. Marjolaine. I need you and James to track this beast down and kill it.

She stopped reading, stunned. “James. What the hell is this? Experimenting with human and nonhuman DNA? What the hell is Parker up to?”

His dark eyes met hers in their reflection on the windshield. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”
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Re: They

Postby Doc 42 » Sun Feb 27, 2011 3:12 am

Let the hunt, begin.
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