Uncovering Ambition - Page 9

On March 19 2008 06:13 ConJonner wrote:
*Receiving Incoming Transmission.*

Memory Log #87-243-75-163

You listen carefully. Static turns into noise. Noise turns into voices.

The room is dark ladened with lush red upholstery, the walls covered with a fine red fuzz resembling the texture of silk, but coarse.

A tall lanky man walks up to the lone table in the room where he faces a behemoth of a man, the lanky one is noticeably shaken. His cloak was like smoke, it was obviously there but seemed completely intangible. In fact, you could see it riding small waves of wind. But maybe the light is playing tricks on you.

You huddle closely under a rack of heavy boxes, futiley trying to keep your heart out of your ears so you can listen.

"All is going well sir", says the Black Cloak, "they've fallen for it."

"Very good", replied the Behemoth, his voice rumbling off the soft walls.

At this point the behemoth turns around, and you notice scars on his face. Not the typical leader by any means, leaders usually keep themselves off the frontlines, but it seems as if he has seen more battle than he has years.

"Begin Stage 2. Make sure you break them this time!", from what you can see, the last booming words made even Black Cloak stutter. A numbing coolness trickles up your spine, it calms you for a moment. Then you begin to shake uncontrollably.

CLUNK!

You hear a noise behind you. With horror you look back, anticipating the rotten stench of Death's breath in your face. But then you see him. Another lanky man enters from the fourth wall some 50 yards away. He pauses for a moment and stands upright after crawling and seemingly dropping from a ventilation shaft.

You take this moment to watch the sweat drip from your nose. For a moment, everything becomes slow, it pulls away, trying to separate itself from you but you won't let it. With your arms occupied in keeping your cardboard covers, you desperately use your head's momentum to slow it. And slow it you did, but the inevitable occurs. During it's slow drop to the ground you wonder why you even tried. It hits the ground giving a slight tick, the concrete stretches it as it is infested with the dust that layers the floor. It slowly writhes and contracts into a pool of darkness.

"AHAHAHAHAHA!", the maniac laughter snaps your head to the right, facing the lanky man in a blue suit. His shoes clack on the floor, at first slowly, but then faster and faster. He is dashing towards you now, at full sprint. Your eyes widen and your face droops.

"Take me now", you think, "end it now."

He looks right at you, his pale face in a twisted grimace. You wince your eyes and brace for impact. Your eyes close, hoping for a painless end.

The wind catches you. You feel like you are flying. Is this what it's like to be dead? Are you finally free, free to soar the mystic clouds of heaven for eternity? It's relaxing. But the wind fades it's calm and cooling arms leave you. You remember the sensation, your mother used to play with you as a baby in the very same way. She lifted you upwards and let the wind catch hold you for a moment before it returned you to her loving hands. You see your mother's face, warm and kind, as a smile creeps across yours. You're home.

THUNK!

You stop yourself from hitting the ground, face first, and turn towards the direction of the sound. It was the hollow clod of the Blue Suit's shoes as he step from the cold concrete to the soft red carpet. A thought strikes you, he wasn't coming after you after all, he was coming for them. He draws back his fist and thrusts forward with all his might letting out a piercing scream that echoes throughout the whole warehouse. It seems to go through the smoky figure of the Black Cloak, and if he had not moved into the light of the lone hanging light bulb you would have believed it.

His cloak arches surrounding the Blue Suit. "You can't do this!" he shouts, eyes now white with fear, "I won't let you!"

His eyes catch you again, and screams "STAR-", the cloak stops him, "AMBI-", again the cloak stops him, "BEGINNING-", the Blue Suit catches the smoke and before it could slither around his desperate hands, "-OF THE END!"

His screams become more and more muffled as he is suffocated in the dark smoke.

"That's number 60," his voice like a pool of boiling oil.

Your ears begin to strain. It hurts. The pain tunnels through your head into your eyes and disperses itself. You become limp and the world turns black. You pray, this time, that you won't wake up.

*End transmission*

On March 19 2008 06:15 ._. wrote:

Sup hot_bid.

I hope its a ladder now : )

On March 19 2008 04:02 zdd wrote:

LOL 50 lost temples
Is that the only combo that leads anywhere?