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 The Random Short Excerpts Collection

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Posts : 6953
Join date : 2010-01-13
Age : 126

PostSubject: The Random Short Excerpts Collection   Thu Mar 25, 2010 9:53 pm

This one was about Wrath

Oh yeah, first off my mind has been below depression state. Looking at this thing I wrote I can only see horrible failure skillfully interwoven in every word of it and can’t find what I was even writing about as being any…logical order…or anything. So if it comes across just as bad to you, well…yeah

The weather was colder than he was used to. Rain slapped the ground and splashed about as a nonstop sheet. The splik, splak against the top of a tin plate rattled the entire structure. Still, Wrath found it impossible to remain with a straight face over the matter. The corner of his mouth had risen into the slightest of smirks as water droplets skittered down his blue helmet and dripped from the tip just above his mouth.

At last, he was free. He pulled his tan trench coat closer, although not for warmth. The coat had been soaked through with rain; near plastered to his body. His long, black, hair appeared very similar, glossy and slick from being wet.

It was a cold, cruel, world for sure, and he intended to welcome it with pleasure. After a few moments, he pushed himself up with a gray, clawed, hand and swept the opposite arm at a clod of mud which had chosen to attach itself to his coat.

At last, he gazed out at the expanse which he could now call home. Barely visible through the thick fog and rain, scattered headlights announced a car to be near. Large, green-gray-street lamps towered into the layer of fog. All around, massive offices, apartments and businesses lined the walkway and dividers filled with flowers of red, yellow, and purple stretched down the way.

Seacrest Bay, an industrious city he had heard. He didn’t care about how industrious it was or wasn’t; it was far enough away from his parents and that was all that mattered. Kids ran away from home all the time—usually over some excuse about unfair treatment, or hating life. Wrath didn’t hate life—he loved it. Every grueling second of the misery it entailed.

A low grumbling car swept by as he waited at a crosswalk for the lighted signal on the other side to turn green.

All those reasons made no sense to him. They were weak minded. Weak minded fools. He had other reasons. Better reasons. They had always nagged and insisted that he should behave with more restraint and less violence. They found his experimental dissecting of small, organic, mammals to be repulsive; His tendency to fight, unacceptable, and his reports on the many ways to inflict pain without death far less exhilarating than he. Beating down friends, threatening others—they were against all of it.

The light was green at last. His white-trimmed foot found a puddle with nearly the first step. It splashed to the side as he pressed on, hands in pockets. Two dog tags around his neck caught flight in the wind and tumbled over themselves.

He wouldn’t miss his parents at all, and it didn’t matter if they missed him, although he highly doubted that they would. They had Stalker and Dark Path anyway—his two half siblings. They had always seemed to simply adore them. Probably because neither of them tried clawing anyone when they got near or destroying the board game if they didn’t get to go first. He would live on his own though, with no rules, in this new city.

Now across the street, Wrath swerved his original destination to that of a tree. There, a small cat, fur soaked flat to its body, yowled for rescue. Its tiny feet shuddered beneath its shivering body as it clung to the tree.

He watched the small creature until at last a young girl scurried from a nearby house. She gripped an umbrella between her small hands, eyes set on the small cat trapped in the tree. She wore a jacket and appeared to be in shorts with rain boots.

No doubt this human child had ventured out into the weather to save her kitten—most likely in disregard to her parents’ wishes. The girl was far too small though. Even with outstretched arms, she was at least three feet from her cat.

Then she looked at him. That didn’t surprise him. Others always asked for his help. He was tall and broad shouldered—the perfect choice for lifting heavy items or reaching that which others could not.

“S-sir, can you p-please reach my kitty?” The small girl’s nose was red from the cold as were her rosy cheeks. Her hair had already become a knotted mess from the harsh wind. It reminded him of her kitten’s fur at the moment. Despite being soaked, its fur was spiked and ruffled from a gust of wind that had just blown it the wrong way.

He reached out for the kitten and felt its wet little body in his hand. The girl’s eyes had become bright with hope as she dropped her umbrella and waited open armed for the wet feline. The kitten mewed with soft fragility as Wrath plucked it from the branch.

It was a simple task, really. Too simple. The response of the girl was too predictable. Too…happy. His mouth curled back into a snarl as he raised his arm into the air, far above his head. The kitten yowled in terror as he flung it like a ball to the ground.

It let out a pained mew as its front and back half hit the ground at an awkward angle. Near instantly, the small cat lay lifeless, its backbone snapped in two. The girl gasped in horror, shaking her head as she dropped beside her cat and gathered its limp body into her arms, calling its name.

The girl’s response was by far more amusing now as she sobbed over the shattered life before her. Once more, Wrath resumed the smirk he had, one small fang protruding from his mouth.

“Y-you!” The girl hugged her dead kitten tighter. If it hadn’t been for her wavering voice, it would have been impossible to tell that she was crying in the downpour. “You monster!”

Wrath yanked the cat away from her grasp and tossed it into the street.

“Better run back to your little house!” He sneered, “Wouldn’t want the monster to get you like he did your cat!”

The girl’s mouth dropped open as she stumbled in her attempt to flee. Wrath lashed out with his claw as she turned, catching her shoulder and leaving long gashes as proof. She shrieked and clutched her arm as she cried for help. Shutting her eyes as she ran, she tripped and fell. Her knee now skinned from the rough side walk.

Wrath chuckled as he stepped around her and walked on. It was amazing how easy it was to frighten others into taking orders. Momentary fun gone, he decided to proceed on in search of a library. Despite how dark it was—which was primarily due to rain—the time had only been early evening last he had checked.

A mall, a movie theater, attorneys, bakeries…with a city this size there had to be a library somewhere. Pedestrian congestion wasn’t an issue at least. If it had been, there was a significant chance he would’ve been in trouble for clawing everyone to death.

At last, he spotted the building. It was set apart from the others. Beyond it, the expanse of ocean, swollen and thrashing, bordered as far as the eye could see. Its parking lot was near empty. Only ten cars were parked around the back by the trash enclosure. A large, steel, statue was planted just off center of the front doors. It looked more like a twisted hunk of metal than art to Wrath.

Short, stalky, shrubbery formed a green border around the cement slab. A set of small benches were off to the left and a place to chain bikes was to the right. The library was far larger than the one at his hometown. It seemed his new city was bigger and better in every aspect.

The library doors slid open as he approached. Before entering, he gazed up—roughly three stories tall—a decent sized library. He stepped inside the first set of doors. A few tables were gathered in a corner to the right, but that was it.

A pool of water had already gathered around him and he noticed, for the first time, that his trench coat looked very much like a sopping wet towel. It weighed a ton filled with water, but he didn’t mind; his black-tipped helmet fins had gone flat thanks to the overwhelming tug of his drenched hair.

Shaking one foot to flick water from it, he stepped closer to the next set of doors until they opened. The air from the other side was warm and welcoming as he entered. The scent of paper flowed as a mild tang amidst the gentle scent of an air freshener.

A welcome desk was positioned off to the left at a slight angle. This was a city in which zetraloid and human quite frequently mingled together, but with no doubt, this particular woman was not at all prepared to see something like him. He assumed most library visitors didn’t come in looking like drenched rats. At last, the being merely nodded.

Wrath spent a few moments deciphering the layout of this building. A large assortment of videos lined several shelves closest to him; seven shelves lined crosswise were marked ‘teen.’ He’d never had any interest in such books.

In another portion, a zone for younger children had been marked. None of this was what he wanted. He shoved his hands into his drenched coat pockets once more, and headed to the next floor. Carpeted stairs swiveled around in a half circle, leading to his destination.

The nonfiction floor--home of the best books of all. Or they seemed the best to Wrath anyway. Books on medical breakthroughs, the very details of human and zetraloid survival and books on what one could withstand and how the body reacted to anything above the pain threshold.

Of course, he already had extensive knowledge on such matters. He had always been fascinated with having such power over the fate of a living being. Their life was in your hands. You could choose to help them, or make it worse. They were at your mercy.

Wrath sat beside a massive window panel and opened the first book. He glanced outside, rain still pounded in relentless waves. From here he could see the sky flashing with lightening as well. Shaking droplets of water from his head once more, he settled his gaze on his book.

Later that night, when the library had closed, Wrath ventured on to speculate the rest of the city. By now he had nearly dried off and the storm had passed, leaving only a light drizzle. The street lights had flickered on, lighting a path along the main roads and even a few streets with dead ends.

He kicked at an empty can as he walked down yet another long and empty stretch of road. The windows of distant skyscrapers dazzled from amongst the darkness. With nothing better to do and nowhere to go, he moved on.

It wasn’t long before he found himself sitting on a brick wall, trying to dig his claw into it. He wished he still had the cat from earlier. Not for its company of course, but for something exciting to do. He watched as a zetraloid, far smaller than himself, excited from the back of a block building, humming his happy tune. He was carrying what appeared to be cardboard boxes and stacking them in a tidy fashion against the back.

Too bad he’s not a cat.

Wrath slouched down as he flicked at his dog tags.

There’s nothing to do here… He cast another glance at the zetraloid in the distance. Unless…
Wrath began stalking over towards it. …it is kind of…like a cat.

The zetraloid let out a surprised yelp and fumbled with his box. He failed in catching his package before it toppled to the ground. Blinking, he gazed up at Wrath with his large eyes, “Oh, hello Stranger. I—“

The little zetraloid was cut short as Wrath flung him into the air like a toy. He watched as the zetraloid slammed onto the ground, eyes unfocused as he tried to get up once more. Wrath’s claw slashed at the zetraloid’s knee bend, severing its circuitry.

“Ah!” the little zetraloid fell forward and crawled towards the door only to be hauled into the open once more.

Wrath pinned him down with one of his large hands and used his clawed hand to dig into one of the zetraloid’s transmitters, splitting it open as the smaller zetraloid cried out for help. Its plea was muffled by Wrath’s hand.

“Are you looking to die?”

The zetraloid’s eyes grew wide as he tried shaking his head.

“Well, then shut up.”

As if it were a simple request, Wrath set about inspecting the injury he had made. Plasma drained from the wound and dripped from the top of the transmitter.

“Cool…” Wrath switched hands, dipping his finger in the substance as the zetraloid cringed.

At last he wriggled free and threw himself forward, but Wrath easily caught him in a single reach of his arm. The pitiful cries of the zetraloid only encouraged him to continue in such actions.

“This is way better than any stupid cat!”

Again and again he slashed at the zetraloid, until his appearance was horribly disfigured. Plasma had splattered onto Wrath’s trench coat and he had knocked one of the creature’s eyes out. Both were breathing more ragged than normal; Wrath simply due to the thrill and enthusiasm he had in slashing at the zetraloid. The zetraloid however, was struggling to breathe from internal injury, only taking shallow and short gasps amidst a low gurgle of plasma bubbling in his throat.

“Hey!” Wrath grabbed the zetraloid by his shoulders and shook him, “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The zetraloid’s remaining eye was only half open as he gasped one last time, body quivering, cold and limp.

“You’re not supposed to die!” Wrath clawed the zetraloid’s head, accidentally snapping his head back with a thick crack.

For a moment, Wrath was silent as he stared at the lifeless body before him.

“He wasn’t supposed to die…” He wiped a smear of plasma from his face and looked at his hands. Both were covered in light blue plasma.

His helmet fins twitched as his expression changed to a hateful glare. Clawing at the zetraloid one last time, he rose and proceeded to kick its body before walking to the main road. The wind swept his hair and trench coat to the side as he gazed out at the traffic, “Just wait and see. I will control who lives and who dies.”

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The Random Short Excerpts Collection

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