Author Topic: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror (Adult Language)  (Read 4051 times)

Offline thatLous

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Next Chapters:
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV (Last Chapter)

Edited: June 03, 2008 (thank you Orpheus! :))
Edited: May 09, 2008

Thanks guys ;D




It comes: a dangerous storm, a bloodthirsty beast, a destroyer…

The two holes on a head glinted, its jaws clenched tight in death.

Yes, it thought, “Let’s have some fun.”





The small and dusty house - looking foreign in the middle of an untouched white blanket of frost, could have been a perfect contestant for a house full of shadows of the ominous dead. The background had once been a great forest until the month of December did its work and tore the dying leaves from the trees, and made the once beautiful foliage look twisted and sick. Von sighed and let his head fall back against the leather headrest of his car, feeling impatient, and wishing the job had been done weeks ago.

He thought that if his boss’ top hit man hadn’t taken his sweet time with that job in Malta, this could have been done months ago, and he wouldn’t be involved in this dangerous chore at all. Von looked behind him where Alan was sitting at the backseat of his car, biting his nails and looking at the house with an expression like a man dreading death.


“What if he doesn’t come back?” Alan asked.

The soothing smell of his last cigarettes was gone.

“What if there is something in there, Sir?”

And the gas tank wasn’t full for some reason. He could’ve sworn that he filled it up yesterday.


Von heard him well but decided not to answer. It would be foolish for him to answer a question that he held himself. He turned to look at the house and saw nothing particularly incredible. There was no roar for blood, as he had expected earlier, no noise echoing from their Mr. Creedy’s shotgun, and no sounds of slack bodies hitting a dirty wooden floor. He let out a heavy breath, rubbing his forehead with a sweaty palm, feeling a dreadful headache coming along, “How do you think Mr. Creedy’s doing, kid?”

He sensed Alan hesitate and heard him shake his head. If he knew Alan by now he’d be gnawing at the plump flesh beneath his thumb in silent apprehension. “He’s been gone for a long time. It’s almost like nothing’s happened.”

Yes, the place was a perfect candidate for a haunted house. In their case it might be a beast, making the house its own personal dwelling. The men who had managed to escape the other month said that it was some sort of black magic; something supernatural and horrible. Von had thought that it was merely a rabid animal being territorial of its home.

“Ms. T won’t be happy about this,” Von murmured. He had half a mind to go in there himself, but their boss specifically told them to wait for half an hour until the man gets back from his job or they would have to try and find him, alive, and run away like burning bats out of hell’s gate. “Did you see anything when you went out to piss?”

“I’m not that stupid. I’d never go near that house.”

And Von didn’t blame him. He was starting to feel an unsettling coldness run down his middle; a burning frost of fear made a nest around his chest. They both fell silent until Alan shuffled around his seat for a while and said: “So what are we going to do now?” with a voice he used whenever he was unsure if one of his ideas were good enough.


Alan, his inexperienced partner. The new one; the naïve one… afraid of something that would not get them unless they provoked it themselves. The boy was a fool to others but to him, well— at this point Alan was the son he never had in all his thirty years of living a life dedicated on doing jobs with an almost obsessive precision. Von was a workaholic who had left his wife to die for the sake of his job, and a four year old daughter to burn to death because of it. He had thus tucked in his mind the pleasing fact that Alan looked up to him as a sort of role model; someone who constantly laid hints for him about how things were supposed to be done in this dangerous profession. Von didn’t want to disappoint the boy.

“We go in, of course.”

But Von wasn’t much of a role model.


The door creaked and the cobwebs around it flew about, dust and everything light moving as a cold wisp of winter air disturbed the place. Von put a finger on his lips to silence Alan’s heavy breathing, and squeezing his gun hard, stepped through the crooked door with heavy footsteps on the creaking boards. Alan took a moment to go in along with him, and he did so with tentative steps. It was dark inside.

He had only been in this place once, when his boss told him to check if it was good enough to hide their illegal goods. It would indeed be ironic if he died in this place in the end.

The room’s walls were almost bare, its ugly old wallpaper, yellowing to a degree with its plain brown decoration of striped patterns, faint and thin, was already peeling away. The lone table in the middle of the small living room was laden with dust, and the fireplace nearby still had ashes and a bit of charred wood, further darkening the atmosphere of the place. There was a dirty couch with a retro pattern of black leaves near the table, but that was all the house had. Even the furniture felt empty.

Von’s face turned melancholy at the sight, but he had to know what had happened to the man and if he had done his job after all. Behind him, Alan moved slowly, never really moving from the door, shivering despite the warmth of his heavy clothing.

The older man moved toward the couch this time, finding nothing over the broken furniture. He poked the nozzle of his gun in every nook and cranny of the living room but found nothing odd in place. Everything looked normal. There was no sign of struggle anywhere.

He heard Alan’s breath hitch behind him.

“Sir,” Alan whimpered. His voice was shaking, but Von wouldn’t dare break his vigilance just to send the boy a calming gaze, “Is… is that a hand over—”

Well that caught his attention. Von cursed his sloppiness and turned to the boy, “What...?”

Alan pointed over the doorway leading towards the grimy room that was supposed to be the kitchen, and hanging over the door was a severed hand. A white string hung on a rusty nail and held the horrible thing’s wrist tight, enough to leave bloody marks like the scribblings of a child. The pitch-black background with the poor midnight moon had made him miss the sight. The blood from it had long been drained.

“Fuck.”

The hand was there but the body was no where to be found… at least that’s what he wanted to believe. Von made a smart decision and decided that he didn’t want to go about the house anymore. He could feel that something was coming, and it wasn’t the feeling one normally felt when they were dealing with someone who was presumably human… something was coming, its presence like an electromagnetic shift in the air, cackling and making it hard to breathe…

And the hand was a sign.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Both of them turned to leave, but the door behind Alan disagreed and shut them in with a reverberating thud, enclosing them in a place of darkness. Small threads of light from little holes shone out, and the blackened windows glowed. But it was not enough, and there was a dreadful stillness everywhere.
« Last Edit: April 18, 2011, 03:36:25 PM by Maimi »

Zetos Lapier

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #1 on: May 09, 2008, 02:21:49 PM »
O.O Very well done, very well done indeed. I found that quite amusing, caught my attention and made me thirst for more, seeing the severed hand and all, I could imagine that in my mind, just hanging there, totally out of place, but perfectly in place for that type of house.

Well done.

Offline thatLous

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #2 on: May 09, 2008, 02:23:40 PM »
;D Just for future reference...

Get ready for a twisted romance.

mwahahahahah. I can see you all cringing already.
« Last Edit: May 09, 2008, 02:27:37 PM by ThatGuy »

Offline Ninny

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #3 on: May 10, 2008, 03:57:55 PM »
Dammit!! Tig-lil keeps walikng across the keyboard  (She said your work wasdjgyn0000000000mcid75)  and I happen to agree!! ;D
I honestly thought I'd already left a comment here but...shock..horror..What must you think Louie??
I keep repeating this I know but you are an artist in your craft.  You've kind of got that dark and broody thing going on under that clown hat of yours.  Don't ever change Louie... ;)

Offline thatLous

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #4 on: May 10, 2008, 04:03:27 PM »
Quote
She said your work wasdjgyn0000000000mcid75

That's exactly what I thought! You got a brill cat, Rowena ;D

You did comment on it in the 'Review My Work' board :P I just happened to put it up in the gallery.


Quote
What must you think Louie??

'Hmm... should I eat another donut or...?'


 ;D Thanks Rowena! And there's no way that I'll take off my clown hat. I love making people laugh... and one of my friends is afraid of clowns, too :)


Louie

Offline Ninny

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #5 on: May 10, 2008, 04:07:41 PM »
I thought you'd gone to bed  ::)

Offline thatLous

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #6 on: May 10, 2008, 04:42:12 PM »
*points at Lee*

 ;) That's enough of an explanation. The whole gang's here!

davidleejones13

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #7 on: May 10, 2008, 05:07:24 PM »
Louie,
This is a chilling start to a, I am sure what will be, a dark twisted tale...
Cannnot wait to read more!

Lee

Offline Ninny

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #8 on: May 10, 2008, 05:09:20 PM »
Lee!  Britney speak only please!! ::)

Orpheus

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #9 on: June 01, 2008, 04:11:32 PM »
It comes: a dangerous storm, a bloodthirsty beast, a destroyer…

The two holes on a head glinted, its jaws clenched tight in death.

Yes, it thought, “Let’s have some fun.”





The small and dusty house - looking foreign in the middle of an untouched white desert - wouldn't use this word. A desert is hot and confuses me. Suggest find another word of frost, could have been a perfect contestant for a house full of shadows of the ominous dead. The background had once been a great forest until the month of December did its work and tore the dying leaves from the trees, and made the once beautiful foliage look twisted and sick. Von sighed and let his head fall back against the leather headrest of his car, feeling impatient, and wishing the job had been done weeks ago. tres bien

He thought that if his boss’ top hit man hadn’t taken his sweet time with that job in Malta, this could have been done months ago, and he wouldn’t be involved in this dangerous chore at all. Von looked behind him where Alan was sitting at the backseat of his car, biting his nails and looking at the house with an expression like a man dreading death.


“What if he doesn’t come back?” Alan asked.

The soothing smell of his last cigarettes was gone.

“What if there is something in there, Sir?”

And the gas tank wasn’t full for some reason. He could’ve sworn that he filled it up yesterday.


Von heard him well but decided not to answer. It would be foolish for him to answer a question that he held himself. He turned to look at the house and saw nothing particularly incredible. There was no roar for blood, as he had expected earlier, no noise echoing from their Mr. Creedy’s shotgun, and no sounds of slack bodies hitting a dirty wooden floor. He let out a heavy breath, rubbing his forehead with a sweaty palm, feeling a dreadful headache coming along, “How do you think Mr. Creedy’s doing, kid?”

He sensed Alan hesitate and heard him shake his head. If he knew Alan by now he’d be gnawing at the plump flesh beneath his thumb in silent apprehension. “He’s been gone for a long time. It’s almost like nothing’s happened.” brilliant!

Yes, the place was a perfect candidate for a haunted house. In their case it might be a beast, making the house its own personal dwelling. The men who had managed to escape the other month said that it was some sort of black magic; something supernatural and horrible. Von had thought that it was merely a rabid animal being territorial of its home.

“Ms. T won’t be happy about this,” Von murmured. He had half a mind to go in there himself, but their boss specifically told them to wait for half an hour until the man gets back from his job or they would have to try and find him, alive, and run away like burning bats out of hell’s gate. “Did you see anything when you went out to piss?”

“I’m not that stupid. I’d never go near that house.”

And Von didn’t blame him. He was starting to feel an unsettling coldness run down his middle; a burning frost of fear made a nest around his chest. They both fell silent until Alan shuffled around his seat for a while and said: “So what are we going to do now?” with a voice he used whenever he was unsure if one of his ideas were good enough. I remember this. I love it.


Alan, his inexperienced partner. The new one; the naïve one… afraid of something that would not get them unless they provoked it themselves. The boy was a fool to others but to him, well— at this point Alan was the son he never had in all his thirty years of living a life dedicated on doing jobs with an almost obsessive precision. Von was a workaholic who had left his wife to die for the sake of his job, and a four year old daughter to burn to death because of it. He had thus tucked in his mind the pleasing fact that Alan looked up to him as a sort of role model; someone who constantly laid hints for him about how things were supposed to be done in this dangerous profession. Von didn’t want to disappoint the boy.

“We go in, of course.”

But Von wasn’t much of a role model.


The door creaked and the cobwebs around it flew about, dust and everything light moving as a cold wisp of winter air disturbed the place. Von put a finger on his lips to silence Alan’s heavy breathing, and squeezing his gun hard, he stepped through the crooked door. with heavy steps before Alan’s own tentative ones joined   His feet on the noisy wooden planks.  It was dark inside. their footsteps heavy on the creaking boards . . . something like that anyway. It didn't look right before  :)

He had only been in this place once, when his boss told him to check if it was good enough to hide their illegal goods. It would indeed be ironic if he died in this place in the end.

The room’s walls were almost bare, its ugly old wallpaper, yellowing to a degree with its plain brown decoration of striped patterns, faint and thin, was already peeling away. The lone table in the middle of the small living room was laden with dust, and the fireplace nearby still had ashes and a bit of charred wood, further darkening the atmosphere of the place. There was a dirty couch with a retro pattern of black leaves near the table, but that was all the house had. Even the furniture felt empty.

Von’s face turned melancholy at the sight, but he had to know what had happened to the man and if he had done his job after all. Behind him, Alan moved slowly, never really moving from the door, shivering despite the warmth of his heavy clothing.

The older man moved toward the couch this time, finding nothing over the broken furniture. He poked the nozzle of his gun in every nook and cranny of the living room but found nothing odd in place. Everything looked normal. There was no sign of struggle anywhere.

He heard Alan’s breath hitch behind him.

“Sir,” Alan whimpered. His voice was shaking, but Von wouldn’t dare break his vigilance just to send the boy a calming gaze, “Is… is that a hand over—”

Well that caught his attention. Von cursed his sloppiness and turned to the boy, “What...?”

Alan pointed over the doorway leading towards the grimy room that was supposed to be the kitchen, and hanging over the door was a severed hand. A white string hung on a rusty nail and held the horrible thing’s wrist tight, enough to leave bloody marks like the scribblings of a child. The pitch-black background with the poor midnight moon had made him miss the sight. The blood from it had long been drained.

“Fuck.”

The hand was there but the body was no where to be found… at least that’s what he wanted to believe. Von made a smart decision and decided that he didn’t want to go about the house anymore. He could feel that something was coming, and it wasn’t the feeling one normally felt when they were dealing with someone who was presumably human… something was coming, its presence like an electromagnetic shift in the air, cackling and making it hard to breathe…

And the hand was a sign.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Both of them turned to leave, but the door behind Alan disagreed and shut them in with a reverberating thud, enclosing them in a place of darkness. Small threads of light from little holes shone out, and the blackened windows glowed. But it was not enough, and there was a dreadful stillness everywhere.

[/quote]

Offline thatLous

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #10 on: June 01, 2008, 04:28:20 PM »
 :D :D Thank you very much, Pheu! :) Yep-- can he be the editor, Rowena?  :D :D

This tale needs a lot of work to be honest :-\ I'm not particularly satisfied with it...

Orpheus

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #11 on: June 01, 2008, 04:30:58 PM »
don't ye be doubting yourself young louie. This is a fine piece of work, and I love it. ;D

Offline thatLous

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #12 on: June 01, 2008, 04:32:54 PM »
 ;D ;D Aah-yes... but here's the thing:

I'm a Virgo.

*dramatic shriek*

...  ;D What?

Orpheus

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #13 on: June 01, 2008, 04:51:53 PM »
I'm a Libran - nice to meet you. shakes hands I've got to write something yet, (scary)

Offline thatLous

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Re: Enter, Azrael: The Story of a Mr. Creedy (Chapter I)- Horror
« Reply #14 on: June 01, 2008, 04:54:29 PM »
 :D I'm bettin' with your editorial skills- they're bound to be brilliant  ;)