*Shrugs* Was never gonna be posted! Lets go!
I dropped the knife, tears streaming down my face. I killed. I have never killed before. Why was I crying about it? I liked killing. I smirked. Launching at another, I opened my wings, my sword ready to be swung. An Eraser's head was on the floor now. Blood spewed from the neck, and it finally collapsed. I was bloodthirsty. Ready to kill. A scientist cried for help, only to have his heart punctured by my sword. Blood dripped from his mouth, and he collapsed. I whipped around, blood now covering my bare--that's right, I'm fighting naked--body. You wouldn't understand the rage going through me. Nor the enjoyment. I loved hearing them scream. I loved hearing them beg. I loved being the upper hand... A Whitecoat grabbed my arms. He screamed in pain as my sword punctured his arm. He released me, and grasped his arm. I ripped out the sword, earning another scream. Now I wasn't controlling myself. I let my rage take over. I kicked an Eraser into the wall, and stabbed my sword into it's neck. I whipped around, and delivered a powerful punch to an Eraser's chest, earning myself a wheeze, and another casualty. A powerful paw headed towards my face. I flipped backward, the fist missing my face, and my foot snapping the Eraser's neck back. The Eraser collapsed. I barely missed the body. I ran, down the halls. It was slippery due to all the blood. The doors swung open, and freedom was mine. I mean, if I was bullet-proof. Fifty Erasers had their guns aimed at me. Was I bullet-proof? I don't know... I am an Experiment. I never had gotten shot before. My question was soon answered. A bullet penetrated my arm. I clenched my jaw. I wasn't going to die. Not here. Not now. I ran at top speed, dodging bullets. I snapped out my wings, and took to the air. It was cold. The blood was drying, and the air was blowing at me. I pushed down with all my might, and blurred, ignoring the cold that cold freeze my toes off.
.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.
I knocked on the door. Hoping Dad, or Mom would answer. The door opened. Jaime.
Oh God. Why Jaime? I'm naked for goodness sake. Jaime's eyes widened, then snapped shut.
"DAD!" Jaime screamed. I folded my arms across my bare chest.
"Will you at least let me in...? I'm freezing my t-toes off-ff..." I whispered, cold. Jaime stepped away from the door, tripping over a shoe. I grabbed his arm before he hit the floor. My foot slid across the floor, and shut the door. Fang came in.
"What's wr-" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, his eyes widened to the point I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. I was shivering, and snow covered my hair, wings, and other unmentionable things. Fang rushed over, slipping off his jacket and wrapping it around me.
"Jesus Mel..." He muttered. "Where did all the blood come from?" He asked.
"Is Jaime okay...?" I whispered, looking at Jaime, who had passed out. Fang shrugged.
"He just saw his sister, covered in blood, and naked." Fang said, wrapping his arms around me, and leading me to the shower room. By now, I wanted to pass out. I was exhausted, and cold out of my mind. The warmth from the jacket helped. Fang opened the door, and turned the water on. The steam tempted me to jump in and pass out. I resisted it. Fang turned away.
"You be ok. Or I'm going to kill you." Fang said, and opened the door, leaving.
"Ok-Kay." I said, shivering. Fang closed the door. I dropped the jacket, and stepped into the shower. God this felt like heaven....
.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.
Once I was dressed, fed, clean, Fang asked me what happened. That's what I couldn't answer. For some reason, I didn't remember... Fang narrowed his eyes at me.
"What do you mean you do remember?"
"I mean, I don't remember what happened... I just remember being shot in the arm, and flying off, then here." I said, looking down at the floor. Right now, I was sitting in a corner, where I felt secure. Fang shook his head.
"That doesn't make any sense." He said rubbing his temples.
"I don't know what could have been..."
.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.
Ducky requested I posted it. I know it totally feels the mode.
I dropped the knife, tears streaming down my face. I killed. I have never killed before. Why was I crying about it? I liked killing. I smirked. Launching at another, I opened my wings, my sword ready to be swung. An Eraser's head was on the floor now. Blood spewed from the neck, and it finally collapsed. I was bloodthirsty. Ready to kill. A scientist cried for help, only to have his heart punctured by my sword. Blood dripped from his mouth, and he collapsed. I whipped around, blood now covering my bare--that's right, I'm fighting naked--body. You wouldn't understand the rage going through me. Nor the enjoyment. I loved hearing them scream. I loved hearing them beg. I loved being the upper hand... A Whitecoat grabbed my arms. He screamed in pain as my sword punctured his arm. He released me, and grasped his arm. I ripped out the sword, earning another scream. Now I wasn't controlling myself. I let my rage take over. I kicked an Eraser into the wall, and stabbed my sword into it's neck. I whipped around, and delivered a powerful punch to an Eraser's chest, earning myself a wheeze, and another casualty. A powerful paw headed towards my face. I flipped backward, the fist missing my face, and my foot snapping the Eraser's neck back. The Eraser collapsed. I barely missed the body. I ran, down the halls. It was slippery due to all the blood. The doors swung open, and freedom was mine. I mean, if I was bullet-proof. Fifty Erasers had their guns aimed at me. Was I bullet-proof? I don't know... I am an Experiment. I never had gotten shot before. My question was soon answered. A bullet penetrated my arm. I clenched my jaw. I wasn't going to die. Not here. Not now. I ran at top speed, dodging bullets. I snapped out my wings, and took to the air. It was cold. The blood was drying, and the air was blowing at me. I pushed down with all my might, and blurred, ignoring the cold that cold freeze my toes off.
.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.
I knocked on the door. Hoping Dad, or Mom would answer. The door opened. Jaime.
Oh God. Why Jaime? I'm naked for goodness sake. Jaime's eyes widened, then snapped shut.
"DAD!" Jaime screamed. I folded my arms across my bare chest.
"Will you at least let me in...? I'm freezing my t-toes off-ff..." I whispered, cold. Jaime stepped away from the door, tripping over a shoe. I grabbed his arm before he hit the floor. My foot slid across the floor, and shut the door. Fang came in.
"What's wr-" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, his eyes widened to the point I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. I was shivering, and snow covered my hair, wings, and other unmentionable things. Fang rushed over, slipping off his jacket and wrapping it around me.
"Jesus Mel..." He muttered. "Where did all the blood come from?" He asked.
"Is Jaime okay...?" I whispered, looking at Jaime, who had passed out. Fang shrugged.
"He just saw his sister, covered in blood, and naked." Fang said, wrapping his arms around me, and leading me to the shower room. By now, I wanted to pass out. I was exhausted, and cold out of my mind. The warmth from the jacket helped. Fang opened the door, and turned the water on. The steam tempted me to jump in and pass out. I resisted it. Fang turned away.
"You be ok. Or I'm going to kill you." Fang said, and opened the door, leaving.
"Ok-Kay." I said, shivering. Fang closed the door. I dropped the jacket, and stepped into the shower. God this felt like heaven....
.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.
Once I was dressed, fed, clean, Fang asked me what happened. That's what I couldn't answer. For some reason, I didn't remember... Fang narrowed his eyes at me.
"What do you mean you do remember?"
"I mean, I don't remember what happened... I just remember being shot in the arm, and flying off, then here." I said, looking down at the floor. Right now, I was sitting in a corner, where I felt secure. Fang shook his head.
"That doesn't make any sense." He said rubbing his temples.
"I don't know what could have been..."
.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.::.
Ducky requested I posted it. I know it totally feels the mode.
I drew him because I felt like it
Alias: None
Occupation: Guitarist and Singer, Civilian
Age: 19
Personality: Michael is a very positive person, who often weighs others problems on him as support than solve his own. It's very unlikely to catch him in a bad mood.
Appearance: jade green eyes, he is a natural brunette but for the moment has his hair dyed black. he has freckles and barely leaves anywhere without wearing some type of hat ( usually snapbacks). He is 6'0 ft tall.
Relationships: He is a good friend and bandmate to Bentley.
History:Michael grew up having an ordinary life,minus his parents divorcing and his mother taking custody of him at the age of 8.
Notes:He met Bentley at a bar, and since have known each other for almost a year. It wasn't until recently him and Bentley got in touch again.
I found a cute lil pic of him when he was little with his dad
Notte
Amal's Lamp (her necklace)
