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Posts: 18 Joined: Tue Aug 03, 2004 11:46 am
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after not being here for some time now. i realise my topic is locked (should be deleted since i realise locked topics dont come back.)
if you want to view the story version, fine. Click here. it will direct you to my DA prose gallery.
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back to the plot.
In 2007, a group of renegade scientists began a series of hideous animal splicing projects on people lost in the vast desert of the Sahara, using stolen funds from major military and genetic Corporations from around the world. They were able to continue these "projects", for 23 years, until they had enough of these "projects" to begin demanding for top secret parts from the military and genetic corporations, who instantly refused their demands, and sent a world class mercenary with a fake part to see if they were bluffing. To make their demands clear, the renegades set up cameras all around the desert. And hacked into world satellites to broadcast the video all over the world. This is what they recorded...
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A smart looking man, in a white, leather business suit, stood in the middle of a barren desert. Huge dunes, raised by traveling winds, stood around the man in suit. The heat was unable to penetrate his suit; he remained cool. In his left hand sunlight glinted off the case of his modified Magnum. On the other arm, the heated steel of a handcuff burned his skin, making an irritated red patch. Attached to the gleaming silver handcuff there was a black attaché suitcase, its contents unknown. A cool, gentle breeze blew past the man, rustling a few stray hairs of his neatly trimmed hair. The breeze slowed down until it was just a faint touch on his skin.
At that sudden moment, a huge spout of sand, 10 or 20 feet wide, shot high into the air. The man simply stared stoically, as if he had seen such a phenomenon before. A few moments later, the spout descended back into the sand, revealing a shadowy figure that could not be made out because of the blistering heat bouncing off the sand.
It began to move ..
The arms of the thing began to sway left to right as if they had no eventual meaning to it, the things footsteps were sluggish and heavy, as if some sort of invisible weights had been forced on them.
The man tightened his grip on the gun as he lifted it up until his gun was in perfect alignment with his eye, creating deadly aim at the thing's head.
He pulled the trigger. .. . . . A loud ,fast bang emerged as the bullet made its way through the chamber of the gun. The force of the recoil was enough to send his arm upwards, but he quickly put it back into its symetrical place as he pulled the trigger again, and again, and again. The expression on the man's face did not change as he fired the gun, it was his job, there was no such need for an outburst of emotions in his field. The thing let out a bloodcurdling cry as the four bullets impacted into its skull one by one. The thing slumped to the hot desert sand, and was done. The man retracted his hand, and put the Magnum into a holster below his belt. He turned, and began walking from it. He only got about 10 paces from where he last stood, when another bloodcurdling cry rang out. The thing put its knees up, and then pulled itself up. Its back was bent, and was completely out of shape, it pulled itself up until it was vertical, but its head was still bent back. The thing slowly began to pull its head forward, the cracking of broken bones being shifted back into place made the thing ever creepier. It tilted its head left slowly, making a few more bones crackle, then right. the thing centered its head. The man could hardly believe what he saw; the impacted bullets were not in its head, but still outside the skin, lodged in tiny little craters in its head. The thing lifted its arm up, and began plucking the bullets out of its head, dropping each smoking bullet to the desert sand as if they were never meant to cause no damage The thing then began to twitch, its arms shaking wildly as if it was having some sort of spasm. And began to laugh uncontrollably, like a schitzophrenic in restraints.
The man was still looking at it, examining every detail carefully now...
It wore what had been jeans, but were now ripped and stained with dirt. The bare remains of a shirt and socks were all that was left of what looked like a once human side. Its skin was a blackish grey color, and it had, to what he could see, a kind of rudder like things lined up on his arm and its head. Its skin was patterned with scratches and cuts which formed some sort of pattern on it. The head was not that of a human, but of an animal, some sort of chameleon like creature. The creature stopped laughing, red lines drawing their way up to the pupil of its eyes. The man fumbled for his gun. The thing began to walk towards him, speeding up its pace every few steps. The man pulled out the gun, and began pulling the trigger, Bang The thing's arm recoiled backwards, but it did not stop Bang The other arm recoiled Bang The thing's leg recoiled back, making the thing fall forwards, but it descended into a roll, and sprung back into a running position, its eyes even more raging than last. Bang Finally, the the bullet caught the monster's head, sending it recoiling backwards, and what the man hopefully would have thought would break its neck, but it kept running, its head springing back to full life. Bang bang click click The man looked at his gun as if it was worthless, and threw it at the thing hoping to distract it, but it just dodged and was still raging forwards, until it was too late. The monster tackled the man, the sheer force sending a paralizing shock thorughout the body. the thing then lifted the man, grabbed his head, and twisted his neck like a matchstick. The thing dropped the man onto the scorching desert.. It then began to rip the man up into little shreds, eating what meat there was on him, quelling that immortal hunger for now..
It snapped the handcuff as if it was made out of string, what and left what little meat remained for the night creatures. It then put the case under one arm, lifted its other arm, walked a few meters to get what little blood drooled over his feet, jumped, and began tunneling into the sand, instantly covering up a trail to the lab.. - Then the face of one of the scientists flashed up onto the screen, he began to utter out the sentences, paragraphs of deadlines for the demands, and the consequence of not paying up to them.. -- Meanwhile in the underground facility. . .
“I think our ‘demonstration’ was enough to capture their attention.” One of the scientists said in a wheelie chair “Indeed” another one said “Uplink terminated people” another one at a desk said A few sighs of relief, and a few minutes of quiet.
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In this RP, you can play as a spliced (a human that has been geneticaly inserted with animal genes) trying to escape from the 'cage', or humans who are trying to stop the spliced from contaminating the world.
edit: bah forgot a few thing..
Bio:
Name:
Age (spliced, 10-19):
Gender:
Species (spliced):
Description:
Other:
My bio
Name: Subject B (eve)
Age (spliced, 10-20): 19
Gender: Male
Species (spliced): Chameleon
Description: ripped and stained with dirt jeans. a dirty shirt and socks . blackish grey color skin, rudder like things lined up on his arm and his head. skin was patterned with scratches and cuts which formed some sort of pattern on it.
Other: none.
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