《Storm of the End》Chapter XIII.VI: The Sadist
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I almost puked, the smell of rot was so strong, but a loud crash and a gunshot rang out in the room Jared was in, and all the remaining pieces vanished at once. I was just barely saved. I grit my teeth as I lifted myself up and ran towards the source of the noise.
Jared was standing near the door, and in the corner of the room right next to the window stood the creature. Its grin widened as it saw me enter the room.
"Four shots left," Jared said without taking his eyes off of the monster. I stared at it, and readied myself for a fight.
A deafening silence filled the room. One of the creature's eyes turned to look at me, while the other pointed towards Jared, both looking in different directions. All three of us were completely immobile, Jared with the gun aimed, me with the plank of wood raised, ready to swing and the creature stared at us, ready to pounce and use its entire body as a weapon. But now it was just as vulnerable as any other living thing.
Now we could kill it.
A jolt of strong wind surged towards the house, shattering the window and sending a torrent of rain onto the space between us and the creature. That was the signal flare! Jared was the first to move, pulling the trigger of the shotgun, sending a burst of bullets flying towards the monster. It moved faster than I had ever seen it move before, ducking fast enough that it actually dodged half of the blast. Part of its shoulder was hit, ripping through its skin and exposing the bone beneath. It barely faltered, and posed its claws in a position to strike at Jared as he tried to aim again.
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Before it could even take a swipe at him, I swung the plank of wood down with all of my might, hitting it directly on top of the head and momentarily stunning it. The creature glared at me in a daze as it wobbled and tried to regain its balance, and for a moment I was paralyzed with hesitation. This time I swung the plank up, connecting it with the creature's jaw. I heard both bones and the plank crack, splinters flying up into the air around us. Jared aimed his gun at the creature's head, ready to fire. It faltered, almost fell, then brought its foot down hard and regained its balance. It swung its claw towards Jared. Jared pulled the trigger.
I instinctively recoiled from the shot being discharged so close to me and the shards of wood that jutted up into the air upon the bullets connecting with the wooden floor. I felt and heard blood splatter around me. I turned, expecting to see the creature's head no longer attached to its body, but what I saw instead made me scream. I couldn't help it. I screamed at the top of my lungs and dropped what remained of the wooden plank onto the floor.
The creature had only a single bullet lodged into its body, right on its forehead. The spray of blood had not come from the creature, but from Jared. I looked down and saw the shotgun laying on the floor, with Jared's arm still grasping onto it, his fingers still posed on the trigger as if they were trying to fire the gun in one last desperate attempt of defiance.
Jared's left arm had been cut completely clean off at the elbow by the creature's claws. A loud noise pierced the air, drowning out my own scream.
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It was Jared, screaming and crying with all his breath.
No.
No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!
We were so sure, so ready and confident that we could have beaten this thing, sure that it was even remotely on the same level as a human being or a natural beast. But it was unnatural, it was monstrous, it was even more cruel than nature itself, or maybe it was the very cruelty of nature?
It turned towards me, looked me directly in the eyes and did one of its mouth tearing grins at me, like it had just told some hilarious joke. I visualized a crowd of the bastards in my head, guffawing and cheering like madmen. Then, it let loose one of its screams, a scream of triumph, all while keeping direct eye contact with me. I covered my ears and collapsed onto my knees. I looked down at Jared's face and saw the look of someone pleading, struggling for life and survival. But his pleading was ignored. When the creature's scream died out, so did Jared. His eyes closed shut, and he stopped moving.
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Godfather Of Champions
This is a story about the pursuit of victory.— «I subscribe only to the theory of victory. I only pursue victory. As long as I am able to obtain victory, I don’t care if it’s total football or counterattack. What is the ultimate goal of professional soccer? In my opinion, it is victory, and the pinnacle of victory is to become the champions. I am a manager. If I don’t wish to lose my job or be forgotten by the people, there’s only one path for me to take, and that is to lead the team in obtaining victories, in obtaining championship titles!»The main character was not well-liked by people.— «⋯We conducted a survey which had been deemed by Manager Tony Twain as extremely meaningless. In a random street survey conducted, ninety-three percent of those surveyed chose the option ‘I hate Tony Twain’, while only seven percent chose the option ‘This person is rather decent, I like him’. It is worth noting that nobody chose the option ‘Who is Tony Twain? I don’t know him’. Mark, do you know why Manager Twain felt that our survey was very meaningless?» Parker, a reporter from laughed loudly and said when he was being interviewed by BBC.But there were also people who were madly in love with him.— When Tony Twain was forced to talk about the survey conducted by during an interview, his reply was : «I am happy, because Nottingham Forest’s fans make up seven percent of England’s population.»And he did not seem to care about how the others saw him.— «What are you all trying to make me say? Admit that I am not popular, and everywhere I go will be filled with jeers and middle fingers. You all think I will be afraid? Wrong! Because I am able to bring victory to my team and its supporters. I don’t care how many people hate me and can’t wait to kill me, and I also won’t change myself to accommodate the mood of these losers. You want to improve your mood? Very simple, come and defeat me.»His love story had garnered widespread attention.— «Our reporters took these pictures at Manager Tony Twain’s doorsteps. It clearly shows that Shania entered his house at 8.34pm and she did not leave the house throughout the night at all. But Manager Tony Twain firmly denies, and insists that that was merely the newest-model inflatable doll which he had ordered.He was the number one star of the team.— «⋯ Became the spokesperson of world-wide famous clothing brands, shot advertisements, frequented the fashion industry’s award ceremonies, endorsed electronic games, has a supermodel girlfriend. His earnings from advertisements exceed his club salary by seventeen times, owns a special column in various print medias, publishing his autobiography (in progress), and is even said that he is planning to shoot an inspirational film based off his own person experiences! Who can tell me which part of his life experiences is worthy of being called ‘inspirational’? Hold on⋯. Are you all thinking that I’m referring to David Beckham? You’re sorely mistaken! I’m talking about Manager Tony Twain⋯.»He was very knowledgeable about Chinese soccer.— «⋯ I’ve heard about it, that Bora gifted four books to his manager Mr. Zhu before your country’s national team’s warm up match. After which, the team lost 1:3 to a nameless American team from Major League Soccer. The new excuse that Mr. Zhu gave for losing the match, was that Bora gifted «books» (‘books’ and ‘lose’ are homophones in the Chinese language). Here, I recommend that you guys find out what that one specific book is. Which book? Of course the one that caused you all to score a goal. After that, tell me the title of the book. Before every match, I will gift ten copies of that same book to you. In that case, won’t you all be able to get a triumphant 10:0 win over your opponents every time?» An excerpt taken from Tony Twain’s special column in a certain famous Chinese sports newspaper.He was loved and hated by the press.— «He has a special column in at least four renowned print media, and he is able to get a considerable amount of remuneration just by scolding people or writing a few hundred words of nonsense weekly. While we have to contemplate hard about our drafts for three days before our boss is pleased with it. In an article inside his special column, he scolded and called all of the media ‘son of a bitch’, announcing that he hated the media the most. But every time he publishes an article, we flock towards him like flies which had spotted butter. Why? Because the readers like to read his news and see him scold people. I dare to bet with you, and Manager Tony Twain knows clearly in his heart as well, that even though he says that he hates us, he knows that the present him cannot do without us. Similarly, we also cannot do without him. Is this ultimately considered a good or a bad thing?» Bruce Pearce, a reporter from said with a face of helplessness when talking about Tony Twain.But no matter the case, his players were his most loyal believers.— Gareth Bale, «No no, we never had any pressure when playing on our home grounds. Because the pressure is all on the manager. As long as we see him standing by the side of the field, all of us will feel that we will be able to win that match. Even the football hooligans are like meek lambs in front of him!» (After saying this, he began to laugh out loudly)The reply from George Wood, the team captain of Nottingham Forest, was the most straightforward. «We follow him because he can bring us victory.»The legendary experience of Tony Twain, the richest, most successful, most controversial manager with the most unique personality!Debuting this summer.Thank you for reading.
8 340Forgotten Blood
The Story follows Hirotaka as he was reincarnated into one of his own games, which happen to be the newest game he was working on called Forgotten Blood. He wasn't born the hero but rather one of the strongest final bosses. Will his own knowledge about his own game hold some truth to his new reailty?
8 189... And My Skillet
A long time ago, a child was born under the great blue sky. Many a Dwarf grumbled at the auspicious event, tugging furtively at their beards at this ill omen. A year later as the expedition had begun digging into the virgin hills of their new home, the grumbling of the doughty mountain people rose to a disbelieving furor when the yearling passed over the ritual offerings that would determine his lot in life. Instead, the as of yet unnamed child crawled over to a skillet fresh out of the fire and begun picking at the rock bread, unconcerned with the heat. Shouts turned into laughter, frowns lifted into craggy smiles. Upon placing a handful of the bread into his mouth, the infant’s face grew so grim and stony not even the eldest of the present Dwarves could match him. There was a durable ore within this babe, of that the Lore Keeper was sure. Yumly Ironhand was thus named, the beginning of his great tale immortalized on the rune walls of his clan’s history. “It’s pronounced Yoom Lee and no, rock bread isn’t a misnomer.”
8 264Rothester
Attention new readers: This novel is under revision. The revised novel is renamed "Arsett Gateway" and can be found on neovel. Read the latest chapter for more information. In another world of magic, monsters, myths, and legends, a new adventure begins. Ken Kai finds himself in this new fantastical world he could have never imagined existed. From Earth to the world of Adon, he will use all his modern skills and knowledge to build a new life in a pre-industrial civilization. But how did he find himself in a new world? Transmigration? Reincarnation? No. Ken Kai hides something much more cunning. There exists something that has long been buried and forgotten—an old Cold War secret. The world of Adon unravels as the height of exploration and discovery threatens the peace between Kingdoms and Empires, where Ken Kai aims to exploit. A secretive faction watches from afar. A superpower has awoken.
8 390The Oresteia (Modernized)
All three of the great Greek Tragedians have written plays about the bloody chain of murder and revenge within the royal family of Argos. Yet theirs is in fact not a story of tragedy, but rather one of redemption. As they move from darkness to light, from rage to self-governance, from primitive ritual to civilized institution, their spirit of struggle and regeneration becomes an everlasting song of celebration to be heard throughout the ages. Forming a discourse set against the emergence of Athenian democracy out of a period of chaos and destruction, the Orestian plays are compelling stories of the tensions between our obligations to our families and the laws that bind us together as a society. In the beginning, we witness how a king’s decision to sacrifice his daughter and turn the tide of war inflicts lasting damage on his family, culminating in a terrible act of retribution. In the aftermath of regicide, we behold how a son must set out to avenge his father’s death by committing a most egregious sin. In the end, the sinner is tormented by supernatural powers that can never be appeased, but ultimately finds redemption and ends the curse on his house once and for all. Woven through all of this is the story of a friendship so close that it elevates itself to brotherhood - Where the blood of the covenant is shown to be indeed thicker than the water of the womb. In this very brief twelve-chapter modern rendition of the Orestian plays, I have chosen to place my focus mainly on the lives of the characters Orestes and his best friend Pylades. The chapters, each around 2000-2500 words, are split up evenly between them in first-person narrative. I hope that you will come to enjoy reading this heartwarming story, but more importantly, that you see how the conflicts portrayed in the story, whether human or institutional, are still much very relevant to our societies today. Note on Sources: The details of this story is very loosely based on The Oresteia by Aeschylus. And I mean very loosely. Other sources that I referenced for detail and inspiration are Mythology by Edith Hamilton, Electra by Sophocles, and Iphigenia in Tauris by Euripides. You may also find that I have quoted some of these works, and others (such as Shelley's Ozymondaeus), without citations (average of 1-2 such quotes per chapter). I did this because I do not have the ability to describe certain scenes nearly as well as some of those writers. If you read a particularly beautiful piece of prose here, chances are it's probably stolen lol. Also, I wrote this during the summer between my high school senior year and my college freshmen year. It was the summer of 2020, and being quarantined apparently gets my creative side out lol.
8 191My love for a Bloodthirsty Prince. [ON HOLD]
Tanya is a girl who never went to China and a girl who was adopted by her aunty. She is a painter. Besides, the paint job she was working in various wartime jobs, but all they were valid for a few days because of unsatisfactory experience. Though she went to her paint job, accidentally she got died and transmigrated into a Chinese dynasty. In there she has got family what she hoped from her previous life. Suddenly, her whole life being fell down into a barbaric prince's hand.Will they fall in love?*******Please bear up to me, if there are any grammar mistake or cultural problem. I just write only for the interest and I have read lots of transmigration story.**********All pictures I get from the net so that pictures belong for rightful owner****
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