~the anger cont'd

It was sometime close to dawn that he felt something land on his stomach. Peeking through half lidded eyes, he saw that there was a folder crammed with the information that Isolde had promised him. He sat up and looked out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever had sent it to him.

Looking down both sides of the street, it appeared that it was devoid of human life, and Delore shrugged as he brought his attention back to the folder in his lap.

Opening it carefully, he spent the entire morning reading every page that the folder contained.

The information provided a basic outline of what was discovered at the crime scene. First point that was reinforced many times throughout the entire folder was that it was a crime of passion. In this case, it was anger.

There were photos of words written in blood, all the words were in some unknown language, as though even the writer didn’t know he wrote it.

Shrugging off the feeling that he should know what it says, Delore kept reading through the entire folder. In the end, it was somewhere in the middle of the day when he had finished. His stomach gave a growl and he went into the kitchen to get something to eat.

Taking his food into his room, he read over the evidence again. He was completely baffled, as though something was missing in the entire case. He pondered over this nagging feeling and realised that noone had seen the person directly not to mention the fact that there were no pictures of the victims.

This surprised him greatly. If this was really done in a major firm, shouldn’t there have been some kind of security camera that would have managed to see something? And what had happened to the bodies?

After eating, he went to Isolde’s house, sneaking in through a window seemed to be the best way to prevent some form of confrontation with her father. He was determined to know the answers to the missing pieces from the folder she had given him.

She had somehow known he was coming because she was sitting on her bed and when he had come in she had merely handed him a spring roll. He looked at her but she seemed absorbed in reading something so he stood silently and ate the roll.

“So you decided to come,” she said.

“How did you know I would?” he asked.

“Easy. You aren’t that hard to figure out,” she replied.

He just looked at her for a long time, technically classifying it as staring.

“Would you like to fill me in on anything?” she asked.

“I was hoping you could do that for me,” he said.

She laughed at him.

“What?” he asked, completely confused.

“Simple,” she replied.

That’s when he felt something jab against his back.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of three executives, Mr. Howard, Mr. Viaro and Ms. Nathera. You have no rights and will be put into detention as soon as possible,” she said.

He glared at her, “is this some kind of joke?” he asked.

“I should be asking you that,” she said. She looked him hard in the eye and seemed to transform from the meek student at school into a professional agent and enforcer of the law.

He snarled at her and he felt the cuffs go around his hands before he could even launch an attack at her.

“Take him away,” she ordered to the man behind Delore and she watched as Delore was dragged out fighting all the way to the armoured car.

~the anger cont'd

After a few weeks, his initial confusion and shock had given way to a more subdued feeling. A feeling that he had long forgotten he had even felt before; curiousity. It was with this feeling that he went about his life, following Isolde and collecting all that he could from her.

When a few days of stalking had ended it seemed as though Isolde was annoyed at something. He wasn’t quite sure what it was in the beginning and decided to watch and find out.

Isolde ended up going into the dead ended alley. He followed her in, all the while noting this change in location. When he turned a corner, she was standing right there. He looked at her, a guilty expression crossing his face.

Then she slapped him. Hard.

At first, he thought he was crazy or something, and had imagined all of it. Then the surprise gave out to the stinging pain.

The first thought that crossed his mind was that she hit hard. He rubbed his cheek unconsciously as he slowly digested this info.

The second thought that went into his head and stayed was the fact that she knew he was following her. That’s when reality caught up with him and he finally saw that she was still standing right in front of him. To say that he had never been slapped before would be a lie. To say that he had never been slapped by a girl that looked like she wanted to kill him was currently an understatement.

Isolde didn’t look like she was upset, in fact, she merely looked annoyed or frustrated.

“Are you crazy?” she finally asked, as though she knew that he was finally with her.

Delore looked at her, he was completely confused.

“I asked you a question. Are you crazy?” she demanded.

“No?” he replied, suddenly unsure.

Isolde sighed. Delore looked at her worriedly.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she said. Everything seemed even more confusing as every second passed.

“If I recall correcly, you’re the one that slapped me,” he said.

“Not that,” she said exhasperated.

“Then what?” he demanded. Coming into reality with a startling speed.

“Following me!” she yelled, reaching the peak of her anger.

“Why?” he yelled back, “Have something to hide, do you?”

“Course not, it’s just that I can’t be seen anywhere near you,” she said.

“Why not?” he asked, curiousity taking hold again.

“Because my father has just found a serial killer’s tracks and he thinks it’s you because all the evidence points to your house. He thinks it’s you because you’re such a rebel, because it’s obvious that everyone else in your family wouldn’t kill anyone,” she explained.

“Is your father a cop then?” he asked.

“That’s none of your business, but no, he’s not,” she replied.

“Fine, and who have I allegedly murdered?” he asked.

“Some high up people in the big city,” she replied.

“But I don’t go there, not unless I run out of clothes or something,” he said. She looked at him sceptically.

“I swear it,” he said. She looked at him closely, Delore had the vague feeling that she was looking right through him and all his lies were being read by her.

She nodded.

“I know,” she whispered, “but it doesn’t explain who did do the murders.”

“How bout this? I’ll help you discover the evil one,” said Delore.

“Fine,” said Isolde, as long as you don’t associate yourself to me in public.

Delore nodded.

“Deal,” he said and put out his hand.

“Deal,” she said, shaking the offered hand.

“Then I’ll give you what information that we do have later tonight,” she said.

“Right,” he said, “when?”

“You’ll know,” she replied before walking down the alley and out into the daylight again.

Delore settled down against the wall. What was that? He asked himself.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he stood up and made his way home, maybe sleep would help whatever was going to happen tonight.

~the anger cont'd

Silence was his best bet, as long as he wasn’t seen or heard, he should be fine.

Looking around, he saw that the only clear path he could follow without too much noise was along the path, but it would make him seen if they moved their head even an inch to the right.

Searching up and down, he saw that it was either that, or he risked rushing it, but he had a feeling that this was definitely no ordinary victim. With a sudden spark and almost cheering for his intelligence, he strolled down the path and flicked his knife back into its sheath.

The victim looked up as he approached.

“Good evening,” said Delore.

The person had turned their head at the last minute and cast their face in shadow.

“Good evening,” said a girls voice. She made to get up but Delore was faster.

“It’s dangerous,” he explained as he held her arm.

“Thankyou Delore,” she said as they approached a street light.

He hid his surprise as he looked at her in the light. It was that girl that had sat next to him in class.

“No problem,” he said smoothly, there was nothing to suggest he had been surprised and nothing to suggest that he had changed his mind.

“You can kill me you know,” she said suddenly. They had walked almost all the way to her house. The only way he even knew was because he could remember where everything was.

He looked at her, she seemed calm and composed. If he hadn’t heard it himself he would have sworn that she never said it at all.

She stopped and turned to face him.

“I know your secret,” she said before moving straight into her house. She stopped as she reached the door, Delore hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Thankyou Delore. By the way, my name’s Isolde, in case you were wondering. Goodnight,” she whispered before closing the door and disappearing from view.

Delore stood stunned for a good few minutes before he shook off his shock and had the first raw emotion on his face for years. Complete and utter confusion.

It was with that confusion that he somehow managed to walk home and it was that confusion that took his mind completely off killing and sating his hunger for blood.

~the anger cont'd

As he rounded the corner, he saw a girl with a guy clinging to her. She seemed to be happy, but not exactly comfortable with his presence. But Delore felt something was wrong. Like a sixth sense. That guy wasnt in this for love. That was certain. In fact, it was almost certain that he'd do almost anything to get into her pants tonight.

Delore scanned the area, it was still fairly populated. But since this was his neighbourhood and it was practically his home, it wasnt like his heart was in the place he lived.

The guy was pulling her into a street alley, Delore knew for a fact that the alley was a dead end, he could also see that the girl didnt really want to go in.

The guy said something to persuade her and she seemed resigned as he walked her in there.

The alley was far from most people's homes. It was perfect to let a guy scream in there and noone would hear, let alone have a clue.

Delore followed them in, his blade at the ready. That was until he saw that there were three other guys in there. The girl froze and the guy, who still had his arm around her, practically dragged her towards them.

When the initial shock had warn off, the girl started screaming and kicking. The men just laughed. Delore figured that the best chance would be to use suprise and his knowledge of the area to catch them. They probably didnt know that it was a dead end.

Carefully, when the girl's screaming had dinned a bit, Delore hid and cupped his hands to his mouth to make his voice carry.

"This is the police, stop where you are and put your hands up!" he yelled.

As predicted, the men ran off as fast as possible, but the girl had finally managed to kick her captor in the groin and he doubled over in pain. That was one down, he had three more to kill or at least maim.

Flashin his knife, he ran by the man and stabbed him quickly before chasing after the other men. It seemed that they had decided that it was every man for themselves. One of the other men had been hurt and left behind. Probably to give themselves more time to run.

Delore flicked the blade across the man's neck and ran on. There's two left.

They were nearing the end of the alley. With quick thinking, he yelled out.

"Stop! Police!"

He heard a scuffle, probably preparing to ambush him.

"Men, you two continue, we'll back you up!" he bellowed. He threw two rocks to make it sound like his orders were being followed. When the scuffling had stopped, He walked himself, making scuffling noises.

One of the men lost nerve and ran out. Immediately, Delore threw his knife at the man's throat and he gurgled as he fell.

Now it was a very compromising situation. There was one left. The man was possibly armed and was probably stronger than him. Taking the worst scenario, the man was fully trained in shooting, had perfect aim and was carrying a gun. Currently, possibly thinking that there was more than one cop and also that Delore was supposed to be armed.

Delore looked at where the man lay, his only weapon was there. He considered his options. He could reveal himself to being alone by grabbing his knife, but therefore would also put his life in danger. It wasnt that he loved life, in fact he didnt mind dying, he was going to die anyway.

Shrugging off the coming fear he picked up a rock that he had scuffled over here. He picked up a can that was left here for trash and threw it up and out to have the light that shined above glint at it in many angles. He hoped that the man would be shocked or stunned long enough to grab his blade.

As he charged by and picked up his knife he threw out the rock at the only possible hiding place he knew in the entire alley. A thud was heard as it contacted human flesh and a yelp was heard as the man tried to rub his wound and run at the same time.

Spinning around, Delore loosened his hold on the blade and it gave a soft thud as it went into the man's chest. Delore panted. His adrenaline wearing off, he strode forward to pick up his blade.

He looked around, four men dead and he felt slightly edgy. He needed more, this wasnt enough, he needed more death, more carnage, more pain.

He wandered back down the alley, there were no street lights further up and it was getting darker since the light was behind him.

The girl had run off, possibly out of fear, probably just to get away from this place. It didnt matter much to him, he didnt care enough.

He walked out of the alley and saw that the closest street light was a good fifty metres away. It was the last one for this street.

He turned away from the light and headed into the park, where he had been yesterday, where he had been headed until he was disrupted.

He felt more than saw someone sitting there. He flicked out his blade, his next victim was already lined up for him.

~the anger cont'd

The day had ended as it usually did. With a stack of classwork that had just become homework.

Throwing his bag into his room, he sat on the ground next to it and scribbled answers to what was due tomorrow.

His room wasnt anything interesting. In fact, it was fairly boring looking. Off white coloured walls, considered cream coloured, a bed, a desk, a comp and a chair. Everything was low budget, nothing was bought other than what was neccessary to be considered liveable.

It didnt take him long to finish all his work and he went to his computer. He began writing, the days worth of imagination had cost him a lot of hours of madness, he needed it out. His stories were always brief. More correctly, they were scenes from stories. He never bothered to finish them, the story would haunt him later and he would write the next scene.

It was simple, it was effective. But it meant no stories were finished.

When the day's worth of stories that had haunted him had been written, he sat back and started playing games. Like Baldur's Gate, Starcraft and Age of Mythology. His mind was whirring, you would have sworn you could hear it at work.

After a solid few hours of playing, he decided to make dinner, his parents rarely cared what happened to him, too absorbed with work and his brother, Jack. Jack always managed to be smarter and do better. Or maybe it was just because Jack was the first child.

Shrugging off the sad feelings that wanted to envelope him, he went to the kitchen to start making dinner. When it was finished, he sat down alone at the table and ate. His parents had taken Jack shopping to celebrate his latest perfect report.

Delore had stopped showing them his report ages ago. Jack couldnt care less and would always point out his wrong points and his parents almost threw it in the bin last time he had given it to them. It wasnt that he had a bad report, it's more that they couldnt be bothered to care what he had gotten. It didnt matter that he was smarter than Jack was. All the teachers thought so.

Picking up his dishes, he cleaned them, put them back and grabbed his jacket. All this sadness was making his madness come back faster. He wanted to hurt something. He needed to hurt something.

Picking up his discarded blade, he walked outside. Darkness already cloaked the house and he felt alive. As though something inside had been freed. He wandered the streets looking for somthing, anything to hurt or kill.

~the anger cont'd

He ran, couldn't be late, not again. Class started in ten minutes.

Swinging round the corner, he sighed wth relief to see that the class was still dangling outside. A hand rested on his shoulder and he tensed up.

"I hope you aren't late again, Delore," said a voice.

He turned around, his face the mask of innocence.

"Of course not Sir, just returning from the toilet," said Delore.

The teacher nodded and opened the door for them. The class filed in.

"We're starting on pages three hundred and twenty seven of the text books. Grab a book as you walk in please," said the teacher.

Delore obediently picked up a book and sat down on his own at the edge, near the door.

After twenty minutes into class, a knock on the door, and a girl walking in and sitting next to him, he was about ready to run out and kill again. Holding onto his sanity, he looked at the girl next to him.

Boring as always. He did his work and then tried to think on what to do after school.

He felt someone tap him, without conscious thought, he already knew it was the girl next to him.

"Yes?" he asked. His voice was annoyed, though he really couldn't care less.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said meekly.

"Well it's too late now, so tell me what you want," he said, resigning himself to help her.

"My pen fell off the table and is under your seat. Could you pick it up for me please?" she asked.

He looked at her, and actually looked at her. She seemed to be fairly smart, kind of childish and just a hint of innocence that seemed to go through her core.

He leant down and picked up her pen. It was simple.

She was an innocent. One of the very few that even lived anymore.

He sighed. He was afraid of tainting her but somehow he also wanted to taint her to the core.

Giving her pen back, she said thankyou and went straight back to work. Delore shrugged. It made little difference what she was doing but something inside told him not to let her go.

Shrugging off the feeling, he went back to writing random comments from the heart and blocked out the rest of the world.

~the anger cont'd

He'd been walking for the last few hours. Bored was an understatement.

It took him a moment to realise that he was being watched, and another moment to find his observer.

Doubling back, he made his way until he came up behind the man. The man almost jumped two metres from fear. But he grimly held on until the man calmed down.

There were no screams, no yells, no warning as he went crazy, his anger that had been held back for so long was let loose.

When the blood rage had left him, he realised that he was covered in blood. The man had been mutilated until he barely resembled anything.

He kneeled and picked up the body, carried it to the nearby park and lay him down in the bushes. The body would be found and he really didnt care all that much.

Cleaning his blade, he slowly made his way back home.

His madness was sated. At least for now.

oh wells

now it's back to sleeping, eating, pestering ppl, working (b4 mum nd dad finds out i havnt been doin the work i'm supposed to b) and .... harrassing ppl?
"shrugs"
this newfound boredom is blamed on...
cute lil goldie

due to lack of interest
i think sleep and tele are next on the agenda..
"grins"
ttyl
ehheehe

~the anger

Anger made his face livid.

Why did everything always have to be so darn confusing?!

As he fumed, his heart began to ice over, his anger lost its heat and went cold, sharpening it's edge.

The nothingness consumed him, the pain of loss, the frustration of misunderstanding, all combined to form a blade. The blade was refined to a killing edge by his anger and seemed to have the ability to cut through anything and everything.

His face was masked.

The anger could no longer be seen, but if u knew wat u were looking for and looked close enough, u'd see it in his eyes. The pain, the frustration and the anger, boiling within him and then icing over.

Many say that those eyes can see everything, it was also rumoured that anyone in the trance could understand everything.

With the anger in him, he stood trying to control his emotions. It was too dangerous, he was too close to the school, he needed to be away, far away.

He grabbed the real knife and pocketed it.

Looking around, he realised that night was still young and he could be done before dawn was even in sight. With that thought in mind, he stalked out into the night looking for his first victim.

"sighs"

i'm nuts
it's final
the world is ending
and i'm goin crazy
there is no otha explanation
..
unless u think that way...
"deep concentration"
"wanders off..."

"ahem"

mates...
yea...
well
uhh
forgiv me for goin hypa...
not gonna put anotha post up lyk that...
cbb to take it off either
neways...
yea..

"grins"

The Author

the author of bloodlust shall b revealed in due course
wait till the end of the first part at least...
"grins"

Bloodlust - By Fire Be Purged

I wandered around the camp.

I was to assassinate a man, and the description given was hazy to the point where it could probably be any guy in the entire camp.

Looking around, I started walking, it took me ages to circle the entire encampment and took me even longer just to see if the guy I was looking for was here. After about three turns I realised that I could be here forever, and decided to turn back, perhaps try another day.

A hand fell on my shoulder and I was practically lifted off in a different direction.

The man was fairly big, practically twice my size since I was so skinny. After useless attempts at conversation I realised it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk, but more that he couldn’t. I sighed; I was stuck with a mute big guy that was lugging me to an unknown place in the world.

I scanned the area, the tents were getting smaller; we were at the edges of the camp. I watched as I was dragged to a tent that was almost at the very edge of the camp. I was pushed right up to it and almost thrown in.

I picked myself up off the ground. It was pitch black.

I pretended that I couldn’t see anything and started yelling for a light.

There were in fact three other people in here, all of male gender. Two were big so I guessed they were the bodyguards or something and the other one was smaller, perhaps sitting down or otherwise stunted and a dwarf. I slowly silenced myself. Pretending that I had finally realised that there was no one to help me.

I looked around the dark still pretending I couldn’t see and took a cursory glance of the area.

“Is someone there?” I said, putting fear in my voice.

“Stop playing,” said the smallest guy.

I trained my line of sight on him. He just stared at me.

“Turn on the light. I think we have established that she can see in the dark,” he said.

A sudden flare of light almost blinded everyone. I heard a muttered curse.

In the new light I could see that the two men were wearing the normal army officer clothes whereas the smaller one wasn’t. He wasn’t even sitting down, just looked kinda small crouched over a little and leaning on something. He was smart. He had put his tent on the edge, away from most protection but still safe from a freak strike.

I looked around, the other two seemed determined not to move. It seemed apparent that they weren’t going to try to kill me after all giving the area a cursory glance in the light, I realised the area was full of weapons. I suppressed a smile; apparently he was a weapons fanatic.

I saw that most of the weapons were far from the door, practically the other side, the glance had taken me a few seconds and I stared into one of the men's eyes. He seemed to be unsettled. Considering it was a man that had to be twice my age, it was hard not to laugh.

Sighing, I looked back at the boy. Despite my eyes having adjusted ages ago, it had taken time for my brain to register the fact that he was the guy I was sent to kill. I looked him up and down, he was definitely still young, no doubt about that. The face was extremely similar to the description given to me, though it was hard to be sure.

I had a hard time not asking him questions. My curiosity was starting to kill me, I wanted to know what he was wanted dead for; I needed to know. It felt wrong to kill someone that young.

While I was studying him, he was studying me our eyes met and I couldn’t help but realise how extremely blue they were. I knew that he would have realised by now all of my details, it wasn’t hard.

I was fairly short, a head shorter than him, more like half a head, I was fifteen and a trained warrior, assassin, murderer, mercenary, freedom fighter and the list went on. He seemed to see right through me though, as though just a glance told him all that I had, especially the Blade I had strapped to my back.

It was a miracle that the mute man hadn’t taken it, but apparently I wasn’t seen as much of a danger, but I had shielded it from sight so it may have just meant the man outside couldn’t see it. Either way he was weak and stupid. The two other men in the room seemed to shrink back into the shadows I wanted to grab them and throttle them, it was then I fully realised that the boy in front of me was talking to them. Not physically but still talking to them, possibly via minds.

It wasn’t that hard to do, a beginner mage could make a link, though perhaps not well, the two men left with barely a rustle. They went around the boy as though afraid of me. I really didn’t mind, I’d probably have hurt them if they came near me. It seemed that the boy already knew that.

Despite the compromising situation I was in I decided to do a bit of a sweep in case of traps. I went over the area with the various levels of magic first with the lowest, Time. Time magic was a wondrous thing, it was the easiest of the four types and most mages could manage this up till level nine, the highest level.

I managed to find three traps all by the door all to freeze the person. It would be easy to walk through if you knew how to counter the traps. In my case it would have been a walk in the park, but screening the second easiest magic of Earth made me realise that this was no beginner.

There was an enormous Earth trap that extended around the entire tent and overlapped the Time trap it would pull the person down and therefore stop all movement and hope for departure. I thought for a while but it still seemed fairly easy though it was a level nine Earth magic, it was fairly troublesome, but still easy to handle.

Running it over with the second hardest magic, Water I realised that he was fairly well trained so far he was a full mage of both Time and Earth; apparently he was a full mage of Water as well. The Water trap was everywhere everything was covered in it. It was right under my feet. He was holding it at bay and the only reason I wasn’t in a terrible situation was because he could control it.

I silently applauded his abilities and level of skill.

I checked the traps of the highest magic of Fire and realised that he was well adept in that too, it was rare, extremely rare. He must be a fully fledged mage, not an Earth mage or Time mage, but a fully fledged mage that knew everything.

His Fire trap was only on the tent.

I stared hard at him, he was full of surprises. I had an overwhelming desire to hurt him just because he seemed so smug about it.

I compared him to me, he was a year older. Now that the other two were gone I could smell his Blood he was sixteen he was an elf with a touch of vampire, which technically made him a vamp and an elf but vampires didn’t like talking to anyone but pure bloods, and they were hard to come by these days, especially with all the hunters.

I was vamp, technically pure blooded demon; the last pure blooded demon. A pity they killed our race but since we aren’t a race anymore, I don’t know what I am anymore. It all changed when I was the last, I wanted to kill him just for being alive, for having a family, for having a race.

I was certain he couldn’t tell what Blood I had, he was possibly puzzling through that. I wanted to laugh at him and tell him he'd never know I was more magically capable than him. It was obvious I could do all he could and more.

There is a special magic given to demons, only pure blooded descendants could receive it. It was considered another level of Fire. Where an extremely strong mage, a fully fledged mage, would have up to level nine of Fire, all the pure bloods had level ten Fire. The level was stronger than most and we were all trained when we were born, the moment we stepped foot into the world kind of thing.

But I was special, because my parents weren’t just any crazy demons. They were the King and Queen. We demons had taken a place of our own, we had mortals and such living on it and they would obey us. We never killed them.

Just drank their blood.

We needed to live too. We had even finally developed a cloned Blood system; we could pick the perfect meals. Mine was twenty to thirty year old, male virgin half human/elf; they tasted best in my opinion. Ah, but the rest was history.

How I missed the good old days.

I was trained so early too. I was stronger than the rest and I was still a toddler, barely three when I killed my first man. Not a mortal on Cadex, our home, but a mortal that attacked our home; attacked the safety of Cadex.

We fought back, the first time my training came into good use. I had studied like a Princess was supposed to. It wasn’t that hard; some maths, common language, geography, and other boring languages. It went quite well, and then the hunters came but that's a different story; that was my past.

Here was a smug bastard that seemed to think that he had already won. So I decided to teach him a lesson, one that he would never forget.

I froze him.

He didn’t know that I could. Only mages of stronger or equal strength would know what another mage's ability was. That's why I knew his, but he'd never know mine. I was trained from birth till five years of age. I could kill a man with a toothpick.

I would never allow this fool to kill me. I had my revenge to live for, and then I would hope to pass through this world, I would never go back never be Queen again.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t face my past.

He had the smug look frozen to his face. I desperately restrained myself from hurting him badly. I took down all his traps and looked around; it never hurt to see what the enemy knew. I looked at the sheets on the table; it was full of battle plans and more garbage. Perhaps I should take the idiot alive, I might even get paid more, but I looked at him and wondered if I would kill him accidentally on purpose on the way there.

I relaxed and felt around the camp, the familiar feel of magic ran through my veins again as I used it to gather info on my surroundings. There were three men outside the tent door, the rest of the camp was eating; at least most of them were. Sighing I walked over to examine the boy up close.

He wasn’t ugly.

That was certain, most girls would be swooning over him by now, but I had developed a fair dislike of men after the slaughter. Shaking the memory I studied his Blade.

Blades had the true name written on it. It was born as part of the spine reading the hilt the name was Bladeslasher, such a boring name, yet so true to his character. He seemed to know how to fight at least. I gathered info until I got sore, then using magic, shielded myself from sight.

I had sent him a fairly strong message of being stronger by destroying his traps. When I unfroze him he held the smug look until he realised he had lost me. Then he probed around with his magic sense to realise that I had destroyed his traps. He went outside so fast that I knew that he wouldn’t be easy to fight and win against, even I would have to break a sweat to win, that was generally a terrible thing but something told me not to kill him.

Listening to my conscience was getting me further than anything else, so I listened and observed. There was nothing else for me to do.

Night settled; men slept.

He was worried for a while before sleeping as well. Dropping my shield I watched him sleep.

It was scary, I usually hated guys, at least pretended to, but suddenly it hit me as a flutter. I had almost sworn to being an avenger and now I suddenly had feelings recalling the lifelong training from my parents. I used the strength I had left to teleport myself into the woods near the camp and slept in a tree. The memories came back to haunt me. Usually I was justified in my killing and nightmares never came but I didn’t kill these people this was my story before my tenth birthday.

Too Cute

Ocean Wave

Sadaya & Goldie - Yr 10 formal

Decision

it's final
i'm bored
i'm staring at stars
i dun wanna clean up
there're too many trees outside to botha countin em all
i cbb to look for work to do
i think i must b goin crazy again
there r three hnudred reasons y i should b sleeping
there is one reason y i'm awake
dun ask it's too obvious
"sighs"
determined to stay awake for three more hours at least
"grins"
cant wait till i'm dead
"grins"

~The Fly

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.

William Blake

~Tyger Tyger

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze thy fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And why thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors grasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake

Evanescence - Hello

Playground school bell rings again
Rain clouds come to play again
Has no one told you she´s not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind giving you
Someone to talk to
Hello

If I smile and don´t believe
Soon I know I´ll wake from this dream
Don´t try to fix me, I´m not broken
Hello, I'm the lie, living for you so you can hide
Don´t cry

Suddenly I know I´m not sleeping
Hello, I´m still here
All that´s left of yesterday

The Illusion

After his death, I kept an illusion before me:
that I would find the key to him, the answer,
in the words of a play that he'd put to heart
years earlier. I'd find the secret place in him,

retracing lines he'd learned, tracking
his prints in snow. I'd discover, scrawled
in the margin of a script, a stage-note that
would clarify consciousness in a single gesture —

not only the playwright's imagery — but his,
the actor's, and his, the self's. Past thought's
proscenium: the slight tilt of Alceste's head or
his too-quick ironic bow; the long pause as Henry

Carr adjusts his straw boater; Salieri slumps at
the keyboard; Hotspur sinks into self-reflection —
where the actor disappears into physical inspiration.
Thought rises, a silent aria; thought glitters in the infinite

prism of representation. For love unrequited and tactical
hate, the shouted curse of a wretched son, a vengeful duke,
in that silent prescient dialogue — unspoken — he'd
show up in the ear, in a tone blue and sweetened as wood-

smoke, show up in these directions to the flesh: cues
like green shouts, the blood swimming with indicatives.
Look — the same smile he flashed at me
from the shaving mirror is here, right here —

but realized: I remember this path opening
in a deep forest outside Athens, the moon
shuddering into place — and no players as yet at hand.

Carol Muske-Dukes

...explaination

as it is, i hav decided to use this a a diary/poem collection
i dun lyk diary entries, they boring
so i hav decided to use poetry as an outlet
tell me if u find ne cool poems
this is jus to tell u that i will probly not b conventional and use this as my journal thing
i hav real diaries for that...
"grins"

~To Autumn

I
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
II
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
III
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John KEATS

~To Hope

WHEN by my solitary hearth I sit,
When no fair dreams before my - mind’s eye - flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.

Whene’er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon’s bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moon-beams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof.

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!

Whene’er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbid fancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

Should e’er unhappy love my bosom pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country’s honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom’s shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed -
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!

Let me not see the patriot’s high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress’d,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!

And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil’d face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head.

February, 1815
John Keats

~On death

I.

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,

And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?

The transient pleasures as a vision seem,

And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.

II.

How strange it is that man on earth should roam,

And lead a life of woe, but not forsake

His rugged path; nor dare he view alone

His future doom which is but to awake.

John Keats

~Sleep...

Do you give yourself to me utterly,
Body and no-body, flesh and no-flesh
Not as a fugitive, blindly or bitterly,
But as a child might, with no other wish?
Yes, utterly.

Then I shall bear you down my estuary,
Carry you and ferry you to burial mysteriously,
Take you and receive you,
Consume you, engulf you,
In the huge cave, my belly, lave you
With huger waves continually.
And you shall cling and clamber there
And slumber there, in that dumb chamber,
Beat with my blood's beat, hear my heart move
Blindly in bones that ride above you,
Delve in my flesh, dissolved and bedded,
Through viewless valves embodied so –

Till daylight, the expulsion and awakening,
The riving and the driving forth,
Life with remorseless forceps beckoning –
Pangs and betrayal of harsh birth.

Kenneth Slessor

~BLOB FEST!

courtesy of Shari......

Food...

normality...

...the beginning...

As it is, boredom kills
Therefore, here is an outlet
Laugh as u will it is tym for my boredom to hav it's damned outlet
Therefore, ladies and gents, this b my beginning
"grins"
Feel free to bug me....
PLZ GIMME SUMFINK TO DO
..ahem...
over to u then