The Hunted

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Aqua
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The Hunted

Post by Aqua » Tue Dec 04, 2018 6:18 am

"Lichter aus! Schlaf du greuels!" Heinrich slammed the last cell door shut, leaving Dexter in pure darkness, unable to manifest as his shadow form. In his soundproofed cell, he screamed until he couldn't anymore.

He rammed himself along each of the walls over and over again.
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Heinrich entered a room filled with smoke and hung his hat on the coat rack.

"Grüße Helmut, Thomas. Wie ist das Spiel?" Heinrich spit into a bucket and sat down at the table, removing a cigarette from its pack and putting it in his mouth.

"Thomas pisst mich an! Vier Asse, Kannst du diesen Scheiß glauben?" Helmut slammed his cards down on the table, and knocked back the remaining of his whiskey. Thomas laughed, choking on his smoke. He slammed his hand lightly against the table, ushering Helmut to calm down.

"Waren das alles Diamanten?" Heinrich asked, taking a long pull from his cigarette. Helmut's head shot up, and looked at Thomas before grabbing him from across the table. "Du Rattenscheiße!"
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St. Gabriel stood on a hilltop just outside the derelict factory where the Dark Ones were being kept. None of them knew his name, he knew all of theirs. It might be hard for them to trust him after all they've gone through, but he is offering them asylum and answers about what they've become, he's sure they won't refuse his offer to come with him to his estate.

Well, he supposed he would find out in a moment if they were going to deny him or accept him.

Tick tock, tick tock. The clock is about to go off.
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Back in the smokey lounge area, Heinrich felt a shiver go up his spine. He looked up, past the brawling duo of Helmut and Thomas to the industrial clock on the wall. He raised himself out of his seat and squinted his eyes. The bottom middle line of the three in thirteen was flickering...But Heinrich was a very observational individual and was sure that their only clock was kept properly maintained.

As the clock swapped the numbers noisily to fourteen, the single line remained unflipped. Heinrichs eyes went wide and he ducked under the table as an explosion rocked the room, sending concrete down to meet the Nazis.
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Explosions rocked each of the Dark Ones cells, tearing an entire wall down from each of them. Explosions ravaged the outside as well, leaving only one path in the area outside of the factory, a path that led directly to St. Gabriel.
Anybody can give me a compliment, but the only ones that really mean much to me are from my princess.

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Re: The Hunted

Post by Cr25pltro6 » Tue Dec 04, 2018 9:22 pm

"Welcome back to your host with the most. Today I'd like to say how beautiful a black cell can be with just a few common home decorating tips" vender's forced enthusiastic voice trailed listlessly out of his cell. It had been 3 hours since his last session with the nazi scientists. He shuddered to think about it, the constant pain and frustration slowly turning him insane. The only way he could attempt to cling to any sanity he had left was by talking to himself.

"Tip one; when in doubt, always use rat bones. Yes sir, you didn't hear me wrong viewers! those starved rats that would normally lay rotting In your cell have more uses than just spreading diseases. All you need to do is extract the bones and lay them around your cell in any order you deem fit!" Everything was alright..... he just needed to believe that. For the love of God! He needed to believe that.

"HALTE DEN MUND!" One of his guards shouted from outside his cell. "Willst du, dass ich dort reinkomme?" He threatened. Unfortunately for both of them, vender did not know a lick of german, so he did not shut up. Instead, choosing to take his guards words as praise.

"Thank you Todd for reminding me about our next tip! Blood, a common inmate commodity, often discarded for it's apparent uselessness. However, did you know that blood is actually the poor man's paint? Try it out for yourself! After your daily beating from the guard, use your broken fingers as paintbrushes and draw your most beloved painting. For me, that would be the mona lisa and trust me, the results are astounding. Don't you think so Todd?"

"Das ist es. Ich komme rein!" The guard shouted angrily as he began to walk over to vender. He was pulling his keys out of his uniform, planning on opening venders cell to beat him, when the explosion happened.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM

It took a moment for both vender and his guard to fully register that a huge hole in the jail wall was torn apart. But that quickly passed as vender got up and ran, but not before saying "Sorry Todd for cutting off our daily radio broadcast, but it seems that we have unexpectedly run into a little hiccup with the network. Please hold while we handle techniqual difficulties!"
I'm on break. I will be back in............. whenever I can get my head back in control

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Re: The Hunted

Post by Water » Wed Dec 05, 2018 12:02 am

Hatch Open. Stark light.

Two eyes peered in through the room, through the layers of glass. Gaze arriving onto the body of a girl resting on the floor, who stared right back. Nothing could be said through the thick soundproof coating which had been layered over the wall. Even if words could be exchanged, nothing of note could be said.

It had been like this for hours, days even; or at least it felt like it. It had begun to feel like an eternity, the claw marks painstakingly carved into the walls felt centuries old. Back when she had energy to attempt escape. To claw at the walls and scream until her voice was hoarse.

No. That's how it begins. The steady slope of insanity. Penelope wouldn't give in, she was just... biding time.

Taking advantage of the light, she broke eye contact with the guard and let her eyes drift around the room. Finally they settled on a revolting bucket, stained with red. Leaning over it, Penelope took notice how little remained inside. Swipes of crimson and... was that a finger nail?
Did she really... eat that? She'd thought of food in a dream, but not like this.

It was human, barely so but still and she ate it. Stumbling backwards and against the wall, Penelope's gaze was once again brought to the man's eyes. Still watching, intently.

Burying her head into her stained hands, she was once again surrounded in thick darkness. Attempting to settle in against the wall, it didn't seem like a long time before the entire wall opposite her was blown apart, opening her up to the light once again.

Not taking any time to figure out explanations, she ran. Hope seemed on the horizon as the outside world came into view. She could see the headline now: Escaping from Nazis, my story. Author P Devorak, of course.

Sprinting out of the room, she was pleasantly surprised to see the bodies of Nazi's sprawled under concrete. Pleasantly? That seemed kind of psychotic. No matter, they're Nazis for gods sake. Or at least they were...
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Moddy
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Re: The Hunted

Post by Moddy » Fri Dec 07, 2018 12:24 am

Wayman could feel his skin cracking, splitting open from the corn starch’s effects. This rigidness that his new body was more than certainly not supposed to experience. He couldn’t even scratch the annoying itch on his elbow. Unable to move, Wayman had only one way to keep himself entertained in his cell.

OH! 42,000 BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, 42,000 BOTTLES BEER! TAKE ONE DOWN! PASS IT AROUND! 43,999 BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL!

Schließen Sie Ihren Mund! Schmutziges Tier” The guard patrolling his cell shouted. Four eyes opened on the left side of Wayman’s face, squinting at the guard in a “How dare you” sort of fashion.

WeLl ExCUsE YOu! Garble knetvi kyak mienati!” The German guard seemed baffled at the foreign language, pulling a device out of his pocket to quickly repeat what it sounded like Wayman said, only to be even more confused when it failed to recognize. He tried again and again. Wayman laughed, he could try as much as he wanted, it was gibberish anyway.
His dry laughs turned to coughs as cornstarch fell into his mouth. “Do we have any apple juice? Please? My lungs feel like steel wool.” He sucked his teeth seeing that the guard was still obsessing over what Wayman had said. “Hey dumbass, it was just--

The wall tore open, bathing Wayman in dust and debris. Normally the debris would’ve harmlessly bounced off, but due to his predicament, this was rather painful. Had an escape taken place? Because as thoughtful as they were to bust open his cell, he couldn’t move.

The guard shouted, opening up the cell and glaring holes into Wayman, as if he had committed the act.

OH YES MR. NAZI. This giant dried up, slug-octopus thing somehow managed to blow up a wall without moving. Ain’t I just Cthulu’s chip off the old blo--” He was cut off by a large, fast-moving shadow bolting through the smoke and in less than a second made quick work of the guard. Dropping him into slumped position. Wasting no time, he lifted the stiff board of a Wayman up and hurried out the hole.
Let Me Take Away Your Sorrows.

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