Lolcrawler
I choose you!
I decided to right a story. It'll be called bloodshot.
Heinrik Stevens had a headache. But he had more important things to dwell on. Being the owner of Bulbs, Brights, and Beyond was not an easy task, so he had to get out of bed and straight to work.
He stood up, opened his wardrobe, and began dressing. He dressed in a traditional tux, with a red tie and white undershirt. He had an aura of authority, and knew it, so dressing slightly casual could ruin everything. And finally, he took a pistol out of a box, and put it in his sleeve. It was a dangerous world, and going outside unarmed as a Multimillionaire would be a very bad decision.
And yet, to him, it was another monotonous day. Little did he know, he wouldn't be bored for long. He strolled outside, got in his Limo, and was driven to his corporation building. He stepped out, and walked briskly to the door, which opened, and he stepped inside. He pulled a newspaper off a shelf and read as he walked.
It had the headline "More Murders, same conditions!". He briskly read over it, how all of the murders were seemingly unrelated, but all happened to less then famous millionaires. He stepped into the Elevator, And pressed floor 37. As it came up, he stepped into his meeting room.
There was only one man in there, who was wearing a large fedora and had his head down. He was dressed in a casual coat and long black pants. "Hello" said Stevens "Are you John Lime?"
The figure replied, in a barely audible voice "No. He is" and gestured to the left.
What Stevens saw horrified him. He saw a with short black hair, and a similar tuxedo to his own. The main difference though, was a wound in his back, and a patch of blood spreading.
"What did you do to him?" cried Stevens.
"What do you think" replied the voice, and began laughing. It was a wheezing laugh, one of ill humor.
"Who are you" asked Stevens. The figure looked up for the first time, and it's face was a horrid sight; a skull, with huge bloodshot eyes, one long strand of visible black hair, looked at him, and despite it's strange features, Stevens could tell in one instant, it was looking down on him.
It looked him in the eye, with those bloodshot eyes, and Heinrich felt fear, fear like he never had before. He pulled his pistol, but the thing was faster. It was on him in an instant, the gun still in his hand. He shot it, but it continued tearing up his chest with clawlike hands. He shot it again and again, but to no avail. The last things Heinrich Stevens saw, was a pair of Bloodshot eyes, accompanied by a wheezing, maniacal, laugh.
He stood up, opened his wardrobe, and began dressing. He dressed in a traditional tux, with a red tie and white undershirt. He had an aura of authority, and knew it, so dressing slightly casual could ruin everything. And finally, he took a pistol out of a box, and put it in his sleeve. It was a dangerous world, and going outside unarmed as a Multimillionaire would be a very bad decision.
And yet, to him, it was another monotonous day. Little did he know, he wouldn't be bored for long. He strolled outside, got in his Limo, and was driven to his corporation building. He stepped out, and walked briskly to the door, which opened, and he stepped inside. He pulled a newspaper off a shelf and read as he walked.
It had the headline "More Murders, same conditions!". He briskly read over it, how all of the murders were seemingly unrelated, but all happened to less then famous millionaires. He stepped into the Elevator, And pressed floor 37. As it came up, he stepped into his meeting room.
There was only one man in there, who was wearing a large fedora and had his head down. He was dressed in a casual coat and long black pants. "Hello" said Stevens "Are you John Lime?"
The figure replied, in a barely audible voice "No. He is" and gestured to the left.
What Stevens saw horrified him. He saw a with short black hair, and a similar tuxedo to his own. The main difference though, was a wound in his back, and a patch of blood spreading.
"What did you do to him?" cried Stevens.
"What do you think" replied the voice, and began laughing. It was a wheezing laugh, one of ill humor.
"Who are you" asked Stevens. The figure looked up for the first time, and it's face was a horrid sight; a skull, with huge bloodshot eyes, one long strand of visible black hair, looked at him, and despite it's strange features, Stevens could tell in one instant, it was looking down on him.
It looked him in the eye, with those bloodshot eyes, and Heinrich felt fear, fear like he never had before. He pulled his pistol, but the thing was faster. It was on him in an instant, the gun still in his hand. He shot it, but it continued tearing up his chest with clawlike hands. He shot it again and again, but to no avail. The last things Heinrich Stevens saw, was a pair of Bloodshot eyes, accompanied by a wheezing, maniacal, laugh.