Hello and welcome to our community! Is this your first visit?
Results 1 to 2 of 2
  1. #1
    Fanatic Enthusiast The Inzuki's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2006

    Where The Angel Rises

    Chapter 1: The Report.

    It was a crude morning as I rose from my rickety bed. The expression on my face made me even more depressed knowing the day will be horrid. I poorly took myself out of bed and trotted towards my window. For once, the day was festive. I replied to this scene with an odd smirk, and walked towards my dresser.
    As I glanced at myself, I noticed I haven't even cleaned myself in what seemed like ages. With my smirk soon fading away, I remembered how a terrible life I lived. My house is in the state of falling over. It was a faded blue with wood starting to bulge out and tiled crumbling from the roof. Then, finally returning to reality, I looked at myself again. I looked even worse.
    I wore patched up cloths poorly stitched by myself along with matching suspenders that now crippled itself into jeans. My hair was very messy; cowlicks curled in every place imaginable. My arms were very dirty from not having any heat whatsoever is this damned house. Though, amazingly enough, I get out for my tan was a nice shade. Though the fact of never cleansing myself made me shiver, for grease was everywhere on my body.
    I then slanted my mouth and again trotted toward my other dresser, filled with even dirtier clothing. I couldn't help myself but to lean onto my dresser and nap. Until I heard a loud thud and a streak of pain, the dresser toppled over me. As I pushed the dresser to it's side, I noticed a piece of parchment. I hurriedly picked it up and trembled to open it. This letter was from two days ago. But how?
    I was totally confused. Was I cooped up in this god forsaken room that I forgot everything that happens here? With a snort I read the letter:

    Dear Sir,

    We hope to find your taste in fighting very cheerful, for we have some exciting news. We're in hope of highly trained men to help us out at the Carolina Protection Agency (CPA), and we're asking you to be one of them. If you wish to participate in the delightful coarse of numerous missions and exercises, please mail a letter to the same address this was sent from and explain why you want to join the CPA.

    Sincerely, Mr. Charleston

    I skimmed this a couple times to fully understand what I was dealing with.
    "A highly trained agency, huh?" I told myself. "Ha, sounds like a load of shit to me."
    I threw the dusty parchment onto my bed and walked out of my bedroom. Suddenly, I realized what I've done. How can I say no to an opportunity to have a little "fun?" I dashed back into my room and picked it up. As I read the address a few times, I then scrambled to find more parchment and a quill. After finding some damp parchment, all I could find was a nearly empty ink bottle and a broken quill. Stumped, I found a plain pencil. Then, I got to work with my amazing story on why I sould be part of this agency to get the hell out of my wrecked home.

  2. #2
    Fanatic Enthusiast The Inzuki's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2006

    Re: Where The Angel Rises

    Chapter 2: Travel.

    As I waited uncontrollably in my lop-sided chair, I waited for the mailman to finally arrive. In a distance, I saw a cramped-up, white box happily making it's way down the ridged road, taking it's time. Very furious, I bolted out of my door (which I ran into accidentally, then I opened it) and awaited for the slow-as-a-June bug mailman to arrive. Eagerly, I decided to run toward the vehicle.
    As soon as he saw me, he slammed on his brakes with an angry expression. I couldn't help but snigger. As I peered into the window, he opened it up and handed me my letter.
    "I suppose it must be important, coming from an agency like that," the mailman retorted.
    "Yea, I really need to find a hobby, like yours, George," I replied.
    "Well, carry on then, Fredrick," George reclaimed, and he drove off.
    With a very pleasant grin on my face, I then proceeded to my house and read the letter with great ambition.

    Dear Fredrick,

    We are very concerned that you wish to leave your area and live in town to help out. We seem to know that you have no care what ever happens, as long as you get a bite of action. We agree that you might do fine, and we wish to see how you do in our extremely life-like coarses. Please meet us at the Corporate Carolina Agency Center and we'll sign you up.

    Sincerely, Mr. Charleston

    I couldn't believe it. I was going to actually leave this plantation and be able to experience the true meaning of action instead of chasing rats in my horrid basement. I packed up my belongings, wore some nice clothing, and headed out to town, not to far from the part of the country I live in.
    As I pranced into the town, I noticed how big it was, seeing as how I never come here on a regular basis. I stopped my gay walk and got serious. I'm entering public and signing up for a very serious, deadly, and tip-top agency. I need to get down to business and act more like my true self, I thought to myself. I left my grin and with a firm walk, I headed down the road to the sign that said "Corporate Carolina Agency Center" and stood in front of the threshold.
    My expression was very strange now. My heart pounding and my sweat trickling down all over my skin, I wasn't sure if I could go on. But then I noticed a man standing near the desk, a smirk and eagerly talking to the employee at the desk. I squinted very hard and looked at his nametag. It was Mr. Charleston. I then pushed on the handle of the door and opened it up. I closed my eyes and thought that every single person had their eyes on me, mouths dropped and items ready to clatter on the slick, marble ground.
    "Ah, you must be Fredrick!" boomed Mr. Charleston.
    I quickly opened my eyes, shed my last trail of sweat, and heaved my back backwards. I noticed that no one stopped to even move their eyes at me. Instead, Mr. Charleston was right in front of me.
    "I was waiting for you, very eager to meet such a nice fellow," Mr. Charleston exclaimed.
    "Er, thank you, Mr. Charleston," I replied.
    "Please, please, call me Earl," Mr. Charleston asked. I just wasn't so sure if the choice I made was 100% right.
    "Hurry up, boy!" Earl yelled to me. I then re-focused into reality, searched for Earl (who was near a very dark entryway on the right of the main desk area), and quickly trotted to Earl, wondering why he gets around so fast, but also hoping when my crappy letter that was "so amazing" was going to kick in.


Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts