RuneScape Forum Archive | ~Kyle's Compilation~

Dark Enmity

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(¸.•´ (¸.•The Bomb

“What did you tell Beth?” Emily asked through gritted teeth. Her voice came out hoarse, but defiant. She glared at Jackson.

“I told her you weren’t home. Honestly Em, I didn't know.” Her blond hair accentuated her brown eyes, which looked fierce and destructive. She was clutching onto the kitchen counter with colossal force. The knuckles of her hands were turning white.

Jackson had no idea what to tell Emily. Beth came by a few minutes earlier, giving her innocent ‘where’s Emily’ look. He told her that he didn't know. Emily had been taking a small nap upstairs the whole time. Beth thanked him and turned around. Jackson surveyed Beth one final time like any seventeen-year-old boy. Beth had rosy skin and was wearing a turquois mini-skirt. Jackson focused on Beth’s flawless legs as she walked away. He thought Emily had cute friends. Probably wouldn’t help calm Emily down if he told her, though.

“Emily, please, take a deep breath. Maybe we can catch Beth if we leave right now..."

"You think I want to chase that klutz?” Emily spat. Her face no longer looked tame.

Bomb activated. It was inevitable this would happen. It always did. Emily was exactly like a bomb, counting down, giving everyone anxiety until the clock hits zero. Jackson had to avoid the explosion. He was the older brother, for god’s sake. He should be protecting her.

“Emily let’s just go our separate ways.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do! We all know you would like that, you stupid lug!” Jackson took a deep, cleansing breath. He could handle insults remarkably well. Emily...well, she was a different story.

“Stop, just stop,” Jackson whispered. “Do you think Beth wants to be friends with someone who gets angry over everything?” Jackson involuntarily clapped a hand over his hand right when he said it.

“Shut up! Just shut the hell up! You have no idea what kind of person Beth is! So shut up!” Emily was inching to the right. It gave Jackson unease.

17-May-2009 19:29:26 - Last edited on 21-May-2009 02:43:53 by Dark Enmity

Dark Enmity

Posts: 2,957 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The bomb was counting down faster than usual. He couldn’t decide what wire to cut. Red? That would mean more insults to Emily. Or green? Try to sooth her down with advice. Neither ever seemed to work.

He swept his medium length brown hair behind his ears. His blue eyes looked full of bewilderment—Jackson couldn’t figure out what wire to cut. His eyes scanned for a wire...

Orange. A new wire emerged for the first time. It gave him hope. He had to try it. Nothing else every seemed to work. Besides if he didn't try, she would explode.

Rapidly, Jackson spun around, hiding his face from Emily. He then started blinking his eyes at a blurring pace. ‘C’mon, damn it. I need a tear. Just one tear.’

He could fell his eye sockets becoming moist. Jackson turned back to Emily. Maybe she would show compassion. Maybe. Jackson put on the most hurt face he could muster.

“Emily, you have to stop this. It’s killing me to see you like this.” He prayed the bomb would be diffused.

Emily smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile—it was malicious. She was preparing to savor what ever she did next. There was something in her right hand.

“Like I would care what you think,” Emily said and sprung at Jackson. He spotted what was in her hand. A silver kitchen knife. He could see his own panicked reflection in the metal. She had grabbed it when Jackson had his back to her.

This was the explosion. It had never been knives, though. Mostly just fists, the occasional shoe, but never knives. How could he fight that?

Jackson had to. Emily swung the knife down at him. Quickly, he grabbed her by the wrist. The blade grazed his forearm, leaving a small red line. Fortunately, it didn't pierce the skin.

He had no choices. Emily was pushing with all her force, but Jackson was stronger. He gave her a shove, sending her flying in the other direction. Emily collapsed on the floor.

17-May-2009 19:29:30 - Last edited on 17-May-2009 19:32:40 by Dark Enmity

Dark Enmity

Posts: 2,957 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Her screams were like a dunk in ice water for Jackson. A tremor was sent through his whole body. It was never the explosion that Jackson was afraid of. It was the aftershock.

He looked down at her on the wooden floor. She was giving loud, high pitched shrieks. The knife had slashed her left cheek during the fall coating her whole side of her face in blood.

His usual thoughts at this time were ‘call bomb control,’ but this was extreme. Emily always ended up injured in the end, but right now she lay in a heap. Her right leg backwards under her spine. If Emily was lucky, it wouldn’t be broken, but most defiantly sprained.

Jackson couldn’t get himself around all that blood. The sight was horrific. It began pooling out onto the hard wood and creeping towards Jackson.

It was over. Nobody was home and all he could do was wait and hope for Emily’s pleading cries to end. Jackson was the worst bomb squad the world had ever seen. The aftershock had arrived.
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17-May-2009 19:29:35 - Last edited on 17-May-2009 19:31:52 by Dark Enmity

Dark Enmity

Posts: 2,957 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

*´¨)
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(¸.•´ (¸.•Claude's Children

Memorial Boulevard, Yanille. A road so haunted that nobody dared passed it if avoidable. Claude thought that was utter nonsense. Maybe that was because he lived there.

Claude was a middle aged man with no wife or kids. He spent his whole day mulling around in the garden, though he wouldn’t classify it as ‘mulling around’. He had light hazel eyes and thin, balding grey hair.

The teenager’s always stopped by his house to play a little ding-dong-ditch or to see who was brave enough to rip out a flower out of old Claude’s favorite petunia patch. All he wanted was to be alone. He adored the time to himself.

It was a strange morning that day. Nobody had arrived to terrorize him or his lawn. Smiling to himself, he decided he would plant some more roses next to his trellis.

He put on a plaid golfing t-shirt and some beige pants before heading outside. He picked up a brass bucket full of tools such as a trowel, gloves and pesticide.

The sun was bright in the sky. It shone down harshly on Claude’s visor. Sweat began to trickle down his body creating that distinct ‘V’ shape on his back. He attempted to soak the majority from his forehead using his sleeves.

Claude placed the roses magnificently. Although the neighbors were jumpy around him, there were still rumors. Everyone agreed that Claude M. Wilson had a green thumb.

Praise was good for him. He wanted to be known as someone normal—he could enjoy a beer with a friend if he wanted to. It was just that nobody offered. And there are so many hours in a day.

“There you go my little angels. Drink up,” Claude whispered affectionately to his plants. His Virginia creeper vine was growing magnificently, scaling up the side of his house. The blue sage was accentuating the bleeding hearts. Claude’s garden was perfection.

18-May-2009 05:09:16 - Last edited on 21-May-2009 02:40:12 by Dark Enmity

Dark Enmity

Posts: 2,957 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

He packed up his tools and took a quick stroll around his garden, surveying it severely. Marigolds still golden? Check. Weeping willow still weeping? Check. Flower patch still—

“No...," Claude mumbled, petrified. His eyes scanned the flowers. How could they? It was unimaginable. Those delinquents had crossed the line. ‘I’ll kill them,’ he thought. ‘I will kill them!’

“NO!" Claude was now screaming in hysterics. He could see the pool of liquid but it only took one sniff of the air to see what they had done. Someone had poured gasoline in his prized plot of land.

‘My poinsettias, my lilies, everything...” He was begun to sprint towards his flowers, hurling himself to the soil. Using his hands, he scooped the foul liquid frantically. His clothes were becoming soaked in gas.

The plants were unsalvageable. He knew that be this time tomorrow, everything would be a clump of withered flora and black vegetation.

He pressed the palms of his hands into his face. Claude didn't care that the petrol was burning his eyes. He needed condolence. Claude needed his children.

Quietly, Claude stumbled back to the house like a drunken man. He didn't bother to close the front door on the way in. He walked up his traditional timber style staircase, gripping the banister tightly. He staggered past the pink striped wallpaper until he came to a trapdoor in the ceiling. He gave a sharp tug on the handle, revealing an old-fashioned attic stairway.

The attic was dusty and cliché—perfectly suitable to debut in a classic horror novel. Cobwebs framed the wooden supports. Trunks full of clothes from the ‘good old days’ were scattered around. Claude noticed none of this. His eyes were focused in the far corner, at his children.

Dolls. Claude’s children were dolls, dolls that he found comforting for himself. They relieved his pain. But only because they were all brutally massacred in some horrific manner.

18-May-2009 05:09:27 - Last edited on 21-May-2009 02:41:02 by Dark Enmity

Dark Enmity

Posts: 2,957 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The closest one—Denise—had golden yellow tufts of hair. She was dressed in a miniature pink dress. Claude had melted Denise's face. Her plastic smile was warped and twisted.

There was also Mathew. He had been pierced with ten pocket knives—four on his torso, one on each limb and one in each eye.

Claude loved all of his children. He had dolls that were missing arms and legs. Others had been beheaded. One was hung from an half broken ceiling fan, spinning around leisurely but never letting its eyes leave yours.

He picked up his most recent doll. It was yet to be added to his collection. The skin was still fresh and perfect, but Claude would fix that soon. He picked it up and dunked it into a tank of red dye. He set it on a nearby desk and diverted his attention to Rosanne.

Rosanne was pinned up against the wall, nails through her arms and legs to keep her up. Her skin was yellow and peeling and she was missing two fingers—he cut one of for everyday he kept her. Rosanne was his most favorite possession. She was also his first and only human doll.

Claude ripped her off the wall gently, noticing four holes were the nails had resided. He cradled her gently in his arms. She flopped around like a rag doll. This was because when he first got Rosanne he had broken every bone in her body, relishing every crunch.

He had never wanted to kill Rosanne. She arrived on his doorstep one day, barely able to speak. She gave him a kind, cordial smile which warmed Claude’s insides. He invited her in.

Claude had never had a real child at his home so he had no toys for Rosanne. Instead, they sat at the kitchen table and talked. He asked her about school. She gave repetitive giggles about whenever Claude talked about when he was a kid.

He had excused himself to use the bathroom. Five minutes later, Rosanne was lying on the floor, foaming at the mouth. Claude had forgotten he had left some of his arsenic solution for his dolls on the table. Rosanne must have thought it was juice.

18-May-2009 05:09:31 - Last edited on 19-May-2009 23:12:01 by Dark Enmity

Dark Enmity

Posts: 2,957 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

She had a surprised look on her face, like she had just been given a puppy for her birthday. Claude was terrified. He didn't want to touch the corpse. The police would find out. He would go to jail. He would never see his children again.

That was when he realized Rosanne could be his child. She would be the perfect addition, the most valuable trophy in the display case. He would shine her up to look just like the rest. Only she would be the best.

It had been a few days since Rosanne’s death. It was predictable the law enforcement would investigate him. Nobody knew about his offspring but they all suspected old Mr. Wilson wasn’t right in the head. He and Rosanne would be separated. Claude picked up a nearby matchbox.

Or would he? Claude felt a strange connection to her, unlike any of his dolls. They would be together forever. Claude lit the match, staring at it with fascination. The smell of gasoline on his skin was still in the air.

Till death do us part? Claude was bonded to Rosanne and not even death would keep them apart. She would be his for eternity.

Claude pressed the flame to his chest.
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18-May-2009 05:09:36 - Last edited on 19-May-2009 23:14:13 by Dark Enmity