Ok guyz.... This, is the new and improved Dark Alley v1.0 [img]tongue.gif[/img] start the pl's
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Ok guyz.... This, is the new and improved Dark Alley v1.0 [img]tongue.gif[/img] start the pl's
Ah, I 4got 2 mention... No guns [img]cool.gif[/img]
Frost held up the limp female body my the hair. She panted quickly, her life was running out.
In symbolic gesture, he uttered the words:
"Betrayed by Darkness. Scorned by all."
He even managed to pronounce the double-space, so skilled with speech was he.
In a single powerful blow, the bastard sword relieved the girl's head of her body.
In that final instant, the mortal soul of Wesley's partner was separated from the physical plane.
Her escaped life-force was absorbed into his being, feeding Frost with the dark hated energy that had made him what he was now. He breathed deeply. he could feel the extra power that flowed through his blackened veins.
'Death is a reward', thought Frost, 'wait until I find Chris Wesley...'
He tossed the lifeless head aside, and one of the cultists snatched it from midair. Already they were devouring the empty body, and if they didn't get more flesh soon they would start attacking his double-spaces.
"Find Chris Wesley!" shouted Frost at his underlings, his coat fluttering in the night breeze. The runts in their black patchwork rags scuttered off, purposefully. Already more were arriving, reinforcing, continuously...
Frost sheathed his weapon. His rival had not gotten far, he could sense his fear, and when Wesley discovered what had happened, he would feed off his agony, his hatred, his rage...
Frost let himself smile in the darkness. His minions were swift, efficient, and totally unswerving.
They would find Chris Wesley.
He would find Chris Wesley.
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 01, 2003 01:41 AM: Message edited by: Tiberius Frost. ]</font>
Clarke observed from above. Chris's partner had been brutaly slaughtered by this monster, just as his own had been. Clarke would not let this death go on. Even if it cost him his life. The cult was large and strong, but the power envoked by one's love lost is incomparable. Clarke lept from roof to roof, nothing but a shadow in the night. Clarke silently dropped down from the rooftop, 12 inch bowie knife at the ready. Clarke slashed several of the dark fiends over, dragging their gushing bodies into an empty alcove. "When the Dark One lies dead or my blood washes over this pavement, only then shall I rest" Clarke vowed.
Chris ran into the alley, panting. He leaned up against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He was lucky to escape the ambush.
He checked his gun. One round left. No spare clips. Shit. At least he still had the sword, hidden in his trenchcoat.
A crashing noise invaded his thoughts, and he spun round, firing his last bullet wildly. Stupid! Think, Chris! Try to relax...
A cat fell out of some rubbish cans, and sped off into the darkness. Chris relaxed slightly, but not completely. He dropped the useless piece of metal, and drew his sword.
He suddenly realised his fatal mistake. There were more of them out there, they were hunting him, and he had run into a dead end alley. He would be dead soon, he couldn't fight them all.
How many had he killed when they ambushed him? Ten? Twelve? There were at least twenty, maybe more hiding in the shadows. They would find him. Chris prayed that his partner had not been killed. He had foolishly run from the ambush without her. Why hadn't he stayed behind?
Chris pushed these thoughts out of his head. She could look after herself. She was more skilled with a sword than he was, and she could move faster. He didn't have to worry.
Chris finally caught his breath, and his heart returned to a more regular pace. He turned to leave the alley. Home wasn't too far away.
Chris stopped, mid-stride. He could hear something. They had found him.
The mad cultists, led by the foul Tiberius Frost. Living off hatred, feeding off the life force and flesh of pure souls, they hunted by night, slaughtering hundreds. Only Chris stood in their way now.
There had once been more of them. They called themselves the Hunters, and for years they had waged their secret war on the forces of darkness. They always hunted in pairs, it was safer. But they were not strong enough. One by one, the Hunters had been killed off. Kelly Jones was the first to go, along with her partner. Two more went, Frost turned them into his brainless minions. Clarke simply disappeared, along with his partner. Then Chris's partner, although he still hoped that she was alive somewhere.
But now was not the time for idle thought. The beasts had arrived in the alley. Nothing more than a small scout party, unarmed. However, there were at least 10 of them.
Chris swung his sword as they approached, cutting through three at once. Jumping up, he kicked another in the head with his steel capped boots, snapping the neck back with a sickening *crack*. One of the cultists leapt up onto his back. Chris grabbed it's head with one hand, flipped it off and stabbed it through the heart. Chris jumped backwards, leaving the remaining six in front of him. They paused for a second, before charging at him again. He stabbed one between the eyes, pulling the sword back quickly enough to catch another two with a sideways swipe. Chris hit another with a roundhouse kick, then grabbed one of the last by the head, and snapped his neck. One left. Chris spun to face it, stared it down, then, in one fluid motion, removed it's head, flicked the blood off his sword, and sheathed it.
A faint clapping sound came from the darkness. Chris turned around.
A figure stepped out from the shadows.
Sakalas stood there in the dark, enjoying the darkness.... Suddenly, a footstep approachs.. Seathia, the vampire, holding his throwing axes...
Sakalas evasively dodged Seathia's axes.. While using the power of necronomicon to summon the spawns of hell. Seathia looked around finding himself ambushed by the blood thirsty legion.. Ironically, Seathia found himself being the target of these bloodthirsty creatures, clapsing to the ground. Gathering every last bit of his strenth, Seathia started to run into the Alley. The hellspawns ran after him, but Sakalas made them stop... It was his coffee break. Sakalas went back to the dark alley looking for some cheaps smokes & coffee. Then Seathia, thought to be out of his strength, was staring Sakalas with the bloodthirsty and despising eyes... He had consumed the blood of the innocent, and his hatred naturally lured him to the presence of Sakalas... Or this might have been a foolish move. Sakalas ripped out his Collosus sword..... and started to slash up Seathia with a smoke in his mouth. Seathia, again defeated, starts to run into the alley for good..... looking for the blood of the innocent and some coffee.
Clarke stepped forth. In one hand a burtal dagger still dripping with the demon blood lay at rest, the other held a Walther 9mm semi-auto pistol. "Chris - you are a very lucky man to still be alive. Tiberius has been tracking you for days. Now hear me out. There is only one way out of this. On our own, we are weak and powerless to stop the spawn in these numbers. But together we can stop them. There is no other way. Once we finish this we can go our own ways and I will hold you to nothing, just as you should to me. Once you understand your choice you will make it. It must happen that way. So which is it?"
The scouting party Frost had sent out had been defeated, he could feel it. And too quickly too, only Chris Wesley was that efficient at killing his minions. Except for the other who had slipped his grasp, the only man to escape Frost's captivity...
Tiberius Frost felt the loathing rise inside of him, he hated Clarke Anderson, he would make him pay...
But first he had to deal with Wesley. Frost gestured unnervingly with his hand, and a figure hooded in black appeared, seemingly from nowhere.
"Gather what you can and attack at once. Chris Wesley must not be allowed to escape this time. I entrust the task to you, my beauty. Break his body and his fighting spirit. I will finish him personally."
The figure lifted its hands, and slowly drew off the hood. The sunken eyes of what had once been Kelly Jones peered back hazily at Frost.
"Yess, Masster." she replied.
Frost smiled. Perhaps when he had Chris Wesley he would feed him one of the deadly Apricot and Kumara pies, they sired excellent lieutenants.
The Kelly Jones Zombie moved surprisingly quickly. She moved rapidly down the street, her army forming up behind her.
Chris Wesley would get a nice surprise from this.
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 02, 2003 06:07 AM: Message edited by: Tiberius Frost. ]</font>
Gerald's eyes popped open, and he sat upright fram his place in the pitch black room, his meditation disturbed beyond repair.
Something had changed. Something had happened.
She was back.
* * * * * * *
Tunic on and having made excellent time to his destination, Gerald had finally collected his thoughts. He waited, and let Kelly Jones come to him.
"I?ve been waiting for you, Kelly. We meet again at last. The circle is now complete. When I left you I was but the learner; now I am the master.
You should not have come back."
Gerald came to a stance of readiness, his sabre levelled in front of him. He waited, and smiled softly as his weapon began to light up with an arcane glow.
His opponent did likewise.
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 03, 2003 04:00 AM: Message edited by: Gerald Blake ]</font>
Sakalas merged from the dark alley once again... and saw Clarke Anderson holding a Walther 9mm semi-auto pistol in his hand. Of course, he got pissed off because Clarke broke the rule. He summoned his Collosus blade and cut Clarke's hand off. While Clarke was screaming his head off, Sakalas approached him and warned him not to do this again, or he will suffer much more serious pains. Sakalas summoned back Clarke's hand and put it on him by force. And walked off to find a cheap coffee and cigarette.
Kelly's shortsword glowed a bright pink colour. She drew out a second blade, identical, which began to glow too.
A voice echoed through her head:
"This is not the time for past affiliations, my pet. You have your instructions, I expect you to complete them."
Kelly fought the power of her master, in order to face her past. It hurt her, inside, she had to fight the control. Calming her rage was just as difficult for her now as it had been in life. Was she was really dead? She never thought about it. She thought only to please her new master...
She had a score to settle now, and some speck of her honour remained, so that she would fight Gerald, even if it destroyed her.
Kelly flicked the pair of swords skillfully. She beckoned to Gerald. She knew she must finish the fight quickly. Her followers formed a deep ring around the two combatants. Gerald could not escape.
---------------------------------
Frost cursed quietly. He was still having trouble controlling her, though in reality did he really want to be surrounded my unthinking fools?
He spoke to one of his minions.
"Seek out Chris Wesley. Tie him up until she arrives. Hurry! Do NOT be delayed."
The figure nodded and hurried away. More followed him. This was becoming tiring.
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 25, 2003 02:44 AM: Message edited by: Tiberius Frost. ]</font>
Seathia's feet went out from under him, and he fell to the cold, hard concrete. His bones broken and his body bleeding, he lay at the edge of the alley. Pain shot through his body, but he opened his eyes and managed to force himself to his feet.
Leaning heavily on the walls of a building, he stumbled down the road, and fell to the ground for a second time beside the corpse of one of Frost's slain minions. He forced a fang down on to the neck of the long dead creature, and cold dead blood flowed though his mouth. There wasn't much energy left in the body, but what was there was all he needed to heal his wounds.
Healed and as healthy as a vampire could be, he drew his blade, ran to the end of the alley and climbed to the roof. Sitting down, Seathia closed his eyes and started to listen to the engeries pounding the city.
He searched hard, looking for Frost.
He needed to speak with the man that was no longer complety human.
<font size="1">Post made legible; courtesy of Gerald Blake.</font>
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 05, 2003 12:50 AM: Message edited by: Gerald Blake ]</font>
Frost was distracted, Kelly could feel it.
"You are my past Gerald. And my past is over. I have a new calling, one which I follow unswerving."
She spun the pink weapons, and lunged at Gerald.
=======================
Silently, deviously, the pack of cultists poured through the shadows, invisible to the untrained. More poured from broken windows, from sewers, from fire escapes and side alleys. The cult grew by the day, grew by the hour.
=======================
Frost stood in the dark. His blue hair tumbled in the night wind. His eyes closed, he reached out with his mind to find the ones he despised so. His clawed left hand grasped menacingly at the air, almost with a life of its own.
It was a constant reminder of Mr Anderson's farewell gift. The insolent one would pay for his crime.
The cultists were getting sluggish. Frost sent out a psychic alarm to shock them back to reality. This had to be done from time to time, otherwise they'd just stop.
He hoped it would work on the other characters, as well.
A second blade. "Kelly, you grow weak. I can feel it. I can see it. I know it. You will not survive this encounter."
Her eyes glinted from her seemingly deepened sockets. Either she was wearing her usual amounts of makeup, or she was just dead. Maybe both. There was power in her yet, Gerald knew.
Cultists now encircled the two of them. It appeared that the authority behind the appearance of Kelly and these new ones didn't want any kind of lenghty comflict, and Gerald wondered as to why Kelly herself still seemed to insist upon this kind of formal duel.
Whatever the reason, the cultists obviously did not share her restraint. If the combat did draw on, he had no doubt they would tear both of the combatants to pieces.
Or die trying.
Clarke. Chris's second in command, back from the dead. Or so it seemed.
"You Died... You were killed by Frost, along with Shelley. What are you doing here?"
Chris didn't wait for an answer. There were much more pressing matters at hand, stronger minions would be here soon.
"I suggest you get rid of your weapon. Guns are useless against them, they don't even slow the beasts down. You do have a sword, don't you?"
A jolt ran down Chris's spine. It was painless, but nevertheless he became more alert. Frost was nearby, and His minions were swarming into the alley once again. Chris drew his sword.
"Clarke! They're here, and you'd better be ready to fight."
Seathia walked along the roof top looking down at were the duel was taking place.
The cult of frost was slowly growing bored with the conflict.
Seathia thought about joining the battle but that would not serve his goal.
He turned once more searching for Frost.
Sakalas was furious towards frost. Even though he was happy about getting a * he just could'nt bare to watch Frost randomly summoning zombies which was breaking hell's rules. Sakalas started the search for Frost. But he was no where else to be seen. Sakalas started another journey for finding Frost to eleminate him along with Gerald the cockroach.
The cultists had picked up the scent. They began to mutter amongst themselves, and started to clatter down the abandoned streets with alarming enthusiasm. Now more than ever, they were coming from everywhere, more and more of them, the army assembling itself for the final battle.
Final Victory.
Frost was pleased. Everything was working exactly how it was meant to. Except of course, Kelly, and the duel she now fought. But, as it turned out, it was probably better that he didn't have another warrior to contend with. Chris Wesley would be challenge enough on his own.
===========================================
Skarfnork, one of the cultists, was in the lead. Another followed him closely, but he kept in front. He was proud of himself, keeping ahead of the pack like this. He rounded the next turn, and saw two men in trenchcoats, one brandishing a sword. Skarfnork skidded to a halt, and the one behind bumped into him. They both fell down. Behind them, the wave of minions grew, flooding over them. Skarfnork tried desperately to stand, but the one who had bumped into him tried to pull himself up, and they pulled each other down. Soon they were lost from view. Nobody noticed.
===========================================
The cultists leapt at Chris Wesley. They had their orders, and they obeyed. Not one tried to attack Clarke Anderson, though attempted to climb up his back in order to dive at Wesley.
Around them more of the critters leapt from windows and rooftops, drawing blades, knives, cudgels, broken bottles, wooden bats. One even produced an xbox controller. They had no concept of honour, they knew only death.
===========================================
Kelly Jones glared at Gerald for a second, through the pink glow of her dual blades. She heard what he said, but forgot it again straight away. She didn't care. She couldn't.
The cultists were getting restless. Somebody was close to Wesley. But she had a score to settle here first.
One sword up in a defensive ward, she lunged at Gerald with the other, aimed staight for his neck.
She had no time to waste. This had to end quickly.
===========================================
Frost stood at the entrance of the alley, and surveyed the scene. His minions were smothering Chris Wesley. He had no chance.
Frost smiled, then something in the darkness something caught his eye, another figure in ...
NO! IT COULDN'T BE! NEVER...! NOT HIM! But.. They were rivals,... side by side? This he'd never considered...!
The cultists had become confused, because he had become distracted. With a cry, he screamed:
"ATTACK! KILL THEM BOTH! KILL THEM ALL!"
Another wave of his minions flooded from the rooftops on to Clarke Anderson.
The battle was begun.
Gerald's own glowing blade went up, and met with Kelly's almost casual swing. He knew of her hurry. Gerald cocked his head to the side, and gave a small wink to Kelly. Against all of his judgement, he acted.
Breaking into a sprint towards the circle, Gerald leaped into the air above the front line of the cultists. Kelly wouldn't stab him in the back on this one. She couldn't. He knew her. He trusted her. Regardless of whether she was dead or alive, she was a part of him. Frost was nothing.
Fully two metres above the line of madmen, Gerald reached a crouching position, and a blinding flash of white light erupted from his body. The ring of cultists broke as a group were thrust outwards, away from him.
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.
Behind him, he knew, Kelly would be doing likewise. They would rendezvous later, if it was at all possible, and settle their conflict with the least amount of interruption from the others as possible.
Seathia travels along the roof tops finaly took him to the end of the alley there stood the figure known as Tiberius Frost. Seathia Jumped down from the two story drop his trench coat flared up as he hit the ground. He slowly looked up at frost. Slowly he walked toward Frost until he was within speaking distance. Seathia lowered his head and bowed.
"How may I serve you Master"
The figure in black presented itself to him.
Frost could sense the balck, empty heart. This one had no soul. Another of the undead had apparently joined him.
Frost kept his eyes on the scene of chaos before him.
"Why have you come here?" he asked. "What power have I over you, whom I did not know existed? Yet you call me master? Explain yourself, soulless one. Or better yet, join this battle. Defeat these two living, and make yourself useful."
He had little time for the dead.
================================
The head of what he once been skarfnork bounced off Chris Wesley's blade. Nobody noticed. Cultists were expendable.
================================
Kelly did not understand what was happening. Gerald had awakened something inside her, something she hadn't known existed. Or perhaps she had simply forgotten about it.
But certainly it was there. And it was powerful.
Suddenly the scene changed. Kelly opened her eyes.
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ September 12, 2003 08:38 PM: Message edited by: Tiberius Frost. ]</font>
She had arrived. Wind swept over the rooftop, and Gerald shivered. Kelly did not. Swords were once again drawn, and both combatants were prepared for the inevitable battle.
No one would interrupt them here.
Seathia took one step forward.
"I have been sent here my the concil to serve you to make sure you live though this night. They have plans and need you alive for them to proseed. They also have a message for you."
He reached in to the pockets of his coat pulling out a scoll he slowly unraveled it and begun to speak.
"The mind of man a greedy hunter after truth, finding the seem truth but changing, not always one, but always diverse, forsakes the supposed, to find out the assured certainty, and searching everywhere save where it should, meets with all save what it would. Who seeks finds not, seeks in vain. Who seeks in vain, must if he will find seek again, yet all in vain. .. If then he thrives not, he tries another way. .But though we often chop and change, turn and return, from ward to ward, from fight to fight, in this constant search, yet we never rest in any, and that because we never find the truth, and therefore we never find it, because we never seek it in that weapon where it may be found."
Seathia turned drawing his Sword "
If you wish I will find the mortals and kill them if you wish"
He returned to the darkness of the alley seeking his new pray.
<font color="#f7f7f7"><font size="1">[ September 14, 2003 05:54 PM: Message edited by: Seathia ]</font></font>
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ September 15, 2003 06:42 PM: Message edited by: Seathia ]</font>
Frost didn't bother to read the message. Nobody told him what to do.
He smiled. He was in control.
Clarke suddenly felt cold - and his arm ached slightly - had somebody been trying to kill him with their mind again? Clarke concentrated all his power into his sword, and charged at the oncoming cultists, slicing them into threads of flesh and evil. The more Clarke killed, the more seemed to appear. "Wesley, where the hell are you?" Clarke yelled.
The alley were the two mortals were trapped fighting for there life was blocked by Frosts mindless cultists. There lifes were of no concern to him and with his message delivered he had a knew goal though hollow in meaning it was only perpose he had at the present time.
The cultist continued to fight the men. Seathia reached into his coat revealing a plain black book.Seathia searched though the book looking for the right page, if took a few seconds to find the right page.
He begain to read the arcane words.Seathia rasied his hand insitly a scream of pain came from the cultlist as there hair became grey there skin wrinkled the cultist soon to weak to move fell to the ground as there bones turned to dust.
The brief seconds had been centurys for the cults thanks to the spell 'Curse of years'.
Sethia looked at the men."
Mortals your fight is now with me."H
e charged forward swinging his blade toward the shorter man.