 |  | Anti-hero: Intro |
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Sidder og pusler med en anden novelle indenfor Anti-hero universet, her er begyndelsen: In other circumstances, the flaming sunset skies visible between the tall dark buildings would have been beautiful. With afterglow of sinister magic and congealing blood splattered all over the place they looked straight out of hell. He’d run towards the screams. But after the girl stopped, it had taken him forever to locate this mess here at the edge between shadows and a blinking strip light. Chunks of meat, ripped clothing and leaking intestines were spread all over the alley and rotten trash cans. He moved gingerly across the sticky concrete, but barely spotted a chunk with an eye and some brain the moment he stepped on something squishy. The chills running up his leg and body made him grimace and the mental image really made him wish he’d put on shoes with thicker soles this morning. All he wanted to do was to mind his own business. When the constantly nagging small-scale emergencies started to peter off, he'd caught himself hoping that maybe this time it was finally over. That only lasted until he noticed the media reporting about girls disappearing. After people began following the police’s advice, staying together and inside at night for protection, the attacks only got more destructive and there were still no survivors. Why is it only beautiful girls that get targeted? As if there aren’t too few of them already! The upside was more calls from some of his old girls being tired of scared and evasive boyfriends. He felt a brief spell of smugness talking two of them into sharing him tonight, and played around with some ideas in his head. But his grin wilted as he returned to the present: I better finish up here quickly before I end up spending the next 24 hours arrested instead. With a swarm of coppers trying to catch me out on some of the other stuff. At first glance the edges of the chunks seemed too torn to be blade injuries, but he would have heard gunshots or explosives. The place would have to be shot op real bad to create this mess anyways, and the chunks just seem too evenly spread for an explosion. He turned on the light in his mobile phone to have a better look: No bullet holes, burns, and no teeth marks. So it wasn’t one of those new zombie attacks. Judging by the few videos online, they would probably still be here anyways. The outhouse smell was a bit nauseating and he stood up to clear his mind. Those traces of magic probably rule out aliens, but what kind of magic and by whom? He walked back to the perimeter and started walking it searching for tracks. The cooling afterglow of magic suddenly spiked and he began combing the ground for the source. | ||||||||||||||
 | haleløs | 2014-10-27 12:25:05 |
Kaotisk drama; den interne dialog (hvor er offeret + hvem er gerningsmanden/udyret (hverken alien eller zombie)) fylder alt for meget!
nydeligt engelsk!
venligst ...
PS "The place would have to be shot op real bad to create ..."
på engelsk kaldes mobil Telefon = 'cell (phone)' ;)
nydeligt engelsk!
venligst ...
PS "The place would have to be shot op real bad to create ..."
på engelsk kaldes mobil Telefon = 'cell (phone)' ;)
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