took 20 min's and Slightly disturbing, but plz add on

Overlooked


The shotgun felt seemingly warm, the metal not seeming to bother him. It surprised him though as generally his fingers would have stuck to the barrel, but yet it didn’t. And then he realized why, the sun was out. And it was not as cold as it usually was. And perhaps to it was his rage. A fiery furnace that had all started an hour before. He could feel it still, from the moment Rick had said it till now. It hadn’t cooled nor slowed. it simply pushed on, pumping his veins with anger and hatred. His eyes roared with fire, a fire of emotion. Their normal dark color seemed to lighten. His mind focused on one primary idea, the idea of revenge. And as he clenched the shotgun he felt that feeling more and more, he knew he had to do it. They lived just across the street, he could barge in. Stop them. Stop them from ever harming or hurting another. From damaging another’s soul or ideals all because of their social pecking order. It just wasn’t right, they had to be stopped. Slowly the boy looked around, the gun still firmly by his chest. Cradled, almost like a mother with her child. Yet he was only 15. Stood at roughly 6 feet, his hair brown in coloration. Could barley be seen as the boy had a black base ball hat. The hat was withered by age and miss treatment. He wore a brown leather jacket, and underneath a black hood, pooping out from the back. The jacket had to pockets on both sides of the chest and was fully zipped up. But beneath the jacket he wore blue tattered jeans. The knee’s had been worn out from, showing his pale crusted knee’s. The color was faded, the blue nearly all but gone. And as for foot ware the boy wore black and white sneaker’s. The white darkened by mud and dirt from walking. He had a small amount of facial hair, growing out from his upper lip. It was fuzzy, faded by his pale skin. The redness of acne spruced around his face, not to much. His nose was of average proportion. Not to big, yet not to small. Freckles sprinkled it and his slightly plumb cheeks. A deep dark blue was the colartion of his eyes, onlookers often said they were intelligent. Full of thought and wonder. But one might not be sure now, now they looked intense. With rage and hate. Suddenly the wind blew, a jolt of cold flickere the boys spine. He shrugged and helt the gun tighter, slipping both of his small hands to the slide and handle of the shotgun. And as the boy clenched the gun, he smiled. He saw them. They were laughing their curtain’s open. All of them, happy and without sorrow. Acting like nothing had happed. Like they had not done anything, but they had. And that was about to cost them something. Something very valuable.

Clutching the shotgun tighter to his chest, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the night.

They would pay for what they had done.

Slipping the shotgun into his sleeve, he walked, slowly, towards the house. Look at them, laughing and joking, little did they know that their world was going to come crashing down around them.

As he reached the kerb of the path, he paused.

What would come of this? Would he feel better, would his anger be quenched? Of course it would, stop being a fool!

Taking another deep breath, he raised his arm and fired into the night sky. They stopped laughing, they stopped joking. They even ran to the window to see what was going on. Fools!

Pointing his arm towards the window, he fired.


EDIT- Nothing to do with this, but.........I reached 1000 posts! Woo hoo! Party!

[edit on 20-1-2006 by Zanzibar]

The blast shattered the window. I wasn't sure if I hit anyone, so I pumped and fired once more. This shot tore through the already blown out window, hitting the television on the far wall. Sparks and more shattered glass everywhere.

Now I heard the screaming. Screaming that flew out the window and rattled around my rage numbed head. I paused for a minute to let their shrieks sink in. Was I enjoying this?

No, but these fools had it coming to them. These ignorant bastards thought it was funny what they did to me. I'll show them funny. I'll walk in and force them to laugh at me some more. At gunpoint...

Walking up to the front door I reached for the handle. Then a scene from a movie popped into my head. I pulled the trigger once more while aiming at the door knob. It blew apart and the door opened on its own.

Stepping into the small house I saw them. Huddled on the floor with tears streaming down their cheeks. I could smell their fear. It was acrid and filled the room. I took a deep breath, filling my nostrils with their panic. God this felt great. Adrenaline coursing through my veins. I could hear the blood flowing through my body.

Now I noticed a pool of blood trickling away from the sniveling pile of popular punks. I must have hit one of them. They would have to take me seriously now. I swung my shotgun around the room until it stopped, pointed at the group amassed on the floor below the window.

*edit*

Pretty dark story heh?

"DID YOU NOT THINK THIS WOULD HAPPEN?"

The young boy bellowed, uncontrollably, swinging the 12-gauge from side to side maniacally,

"DID YOU THINK THAT YOU COULD WALK ALL OVER ME, WALK ALL OVER MY HEART, MY LIFE?!"

He almost seemed to be foaming at the mouth, pacing the living room that was now covered in shattered glass, the broken pieces crunching underneath his sneakers. The man on the floor, who appeard to be the father of the terrified family, began to plead desperately with the boy, his voice almost a whisper,"

"Plea....please......I have no idea what you are talking, please, please don't hurt us anymore, I'm begging you, don't hurt my family......we've......I.......please......."

This comment seemed to only further enrage their attacker, the boys knuckles turning white with tension as he spoke. A split second after the father has stopped talking the boy sharply sent the butt of the shotgun into his mouth, sending him onto his front on the floor. The others screamed and he didn't get up. The boy stepped over him in an almost curious mannor. The pool of blood had come from him, there was clearly a few shotgun pelets stuck in his back. The boy laughed,

"That should slow you down for a while, right john?"

The father didn't stir, and the boy began to prod him with the end of his weapon.

"How do you know his name," The mother screached from the corner, tears streaming down her face,

"Oh come on now susan , lets not play these games anymore, you know why I'm here, YOU KNOW," the boy began to get angry again, raising his voice, "YOU FORCED ME TO THIS CONCLUSION SUSAN....you..."

His voice lowered and his words trailed away,

"DONT move," he said hysterically, as he started to draw all the curtains and lock the windows, securing the house in everyway possible. He began to turn over furniture to place infront of doors, the terrified family jumping with every crash and bump he made. Finally after wildly ransacking the house he sat on the last chair still upright and pulled it close to the cowering people he had now trapped,

"Now then Susan, it's time to talk..........."

Placing the still hot shotgun on his lap, the boy sighed,

'It is a shame it had to come to this now isn't it Susan, but I couldn't just stand by and let this injustice happen, did you expect you could get away with it?'

'Please, I have no idea what your talking about, I.....I don't even know who you are'

Slowly getting up from his chair, the boy walked towards the window and looked outside, it was already getting dark and a small group of people had gathered on the other side of the street. Fools. They could wait though, there was still the matter at hand to be dealt with.

Turning around, the family was still huddled in a group in the middle of the room, all of them crying, all of them probably begging to God for their lives.

Reaching into his pocket, the boy took out a crude petrol bomb, made out of drainage pipe and sellotape. A piece of string was poking out of the top, ready to be lit. After holding it in his hand for a few seconds he put it back into his pocket and raised his shotgun once more.

'So you people don't know who I am? Come on! Speak up!'

A girl the same age as the boy meakly spoke,

'You....your that new......new kid at.........school arn't you? Th......the one that just.......just moved in over the street? I....I showed.........you around!'

For the first time since he had burst in, the boy hesitated, he remembered her! She was the cute girl that had been friendly to him on his first day. But that must not get in the way of what had to be done.

Walking over to her, he knelt down and looked into her dark, teary eyes. Closing his eyes and clenching his hands around the shotgun, he fired into her chest, sending her flying onto her back.

The room erupted, Susan jumped at him but was also sent to her feet with a sharp blow to the head with the butt of the shotgun, John also flew at the boy, striking him in the gut with a hard punch.

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It is dark isn't it? Still, I hope someone adds some more on!

Seeing as no-one is adding, I think I'll have another blast, hopefully some more will be added.

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most super-human reaction caused the boy to immediately spring to his feet, the same time cocking the shotgun and firing, over and over again. He didn't stop until the room was full of smoke and the screams had stopped.

Shaking with anger and adrenaline, he sat back in the chair and observed what he had done, Johns body was slumped over the girls and Susans body was, well, barely recognisable.

But, there had been another, a boy, a few years older than him. Where the hell had he gone? Jumping to his feet, the boy frantically looked under the bodys, nothing.

Running over to the window, he ripped the curtains off and saw the boy running down the path. Raising his shotgun again, he fired, sending him flying into a fence, dead.

The people on the opposite side of the street were now running, there screams being replaced by the wailing of sirens.

The sky began to darken and little darts of rain blew harshly against anything
that moved. From the house next door, a guttural moan drifted into the living-room, mixing with the smoke of the shotgun shells and the lingering feeling of
stark terror. "Ya did goood boy, real real good." "Yeah, real good good."
"I can't smell their brains anymore, not a one of them!""I thinks you got them all!"

"Can ya hear me boy?" "Answer me boy!!"

He picked up the shotgun and headed for the blocked doorway. Kicking anything
and everything aside, and drooling spittal profusely, he made his way out into the
yard again, listening for the master's voice. He had done good !

"Master, you there?" "Master?" "What next master?" "Master, do you smell
those across the street?" "They're scared master. Real scared!" "I want to kill
them all master!" "Can we?" "Master?"

From the outside, sirens began to blare, and an officer came on the horn.

"Come out with your hands up, we know your in there."

The swat team mobilized outside of the front door, readying flashbangs and breach charges. People began to crowd the vicinity, questioning themselves about what happened, afraid of what will happen.

The door blew open, followed by a loud, blinding flash. Figures poured in with automatic weapons and heavy gear.

A single man lay on the floor, blood trickling from his neck, gun lying on the floor.


Sry if i killed the story

As the SWAT team burst into the house, the boy closed his eyes and started firing, the noise was horrendous, like a thousand earthquakes going off at the same time, but the boy continued to fire.

Opening his eyes, the boy realised that he was facing the carpet, he could hear footsteps getting nearer and at last reaching him. As the person knelt down beside him, he grabbed his gun and sprung up, smashing the SWAT member with the butt of his gun.

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You didn't kill it mate, just made it interesting.

He felt his pockets, almost out of shells.
"Goddam!"
Then he went for is other pocket and pulled out the petrol bomb. He looked around the room and instantly eyed the window.
At that time he thought of a crude plan. The butt of his gun smashed the back window. Now he could hear the footsteps coming close again. He took the small glock pistol from the officers side and jammed it in is side pocket.
He reached for his lighter and ignited the fuse, chucking the piped bomb by the door. Quickly he exited the window, landing on soft grass. He started to sprint, reaching the back fence. An explosion echoed through the neighborhood, flames began to lick the side of the house. He dropped the shotty, it was becoming a liabilty to carry around. His sweaty fingers gripped the edge of the fence as he jumed over. He could see the road. An old lady was getting out of her car. No choice, he had to get outa here, fast. He crept up the the wrinkled body as she grabbed some bags from the boot. He slowly reached for the pistol.
"Gimmie the F*#*ing keys or your dead" he whisperd
She turned in horror to a gun in her face. She hesitated. The gun slammed down on her skull, taking to the ground. He grabbed the keys from the boot and jumed into the car. He hadn't driven a car before. first time for everything
He brought the car to life and chucked into gear. The wheels screeched on the tarmack as the Alfa Romeo sped off.

Small rivers of blood and sweat came together and ran down his face and into his
eyes as he worked at keeping the vehicle on the road. His breathing became loud
and strained, at times causing him to gasp for air. He had to find the master!
He had to! Pulling screechingly to a halt, he saw the alley that snaked back behind
the houses he had just left. He started to laugh insanely as the gears ground and
the car moved slowly down the narrow alley towards Him.
Out of the shadows emerged an even darker shadow. It yanked open the
passenger-side door and settled in the seat beside the boy as the car made it's way
down the alley without stopping.
On the front side of the houses more police were arriving with guns at the ready.
Behind them fire department personnel eased into position and sat waiting until
called.
The car made it's way slowly and quietly away from the scene. Further and further,
until it was free from any unwanted attention.
Inside the car, the temperature had dropped immediately, and vapor could be seen
when breathes were taken. Evil loomed.

Okay, I see no new additions, so I will expand on my last one.
.........................................................................................
Hoarsely, HE told the boy where to drive, giving specific directions when
necessary. HE knew the boy was still a little scared of him, but that was good.
Terror was good for the soul. It reminded mortals of their shortcomings.
But the boy had done good hadn't he? Surely did kill that whole family without
blinking an eye. Yeah, he'd done good.

The longer the boy drove, the lower the temperature got inside the car. After
a while, it just stayed cold and still. But still the boy sweat, as did the Master.
Cold sweat, yeah, they were used to cold sweat, and to the vapor trails that shot
from their mouths when either one of them had anything to say. After all, they
weren't completely human were they? Hell no! Byproducts of some fancy
experiment that had gone haywire, they were considered nothing more than
useless mongrel mutants. And people treated them badly all of the time, . . and
seemed to enjoy doing so. Ha, at least they "used" to enjoy it.
Now the time had come to kill anybody who treated them badly. Anybody!
Anytime! Anywhere! They would get their revenge! Someone would pay!

The boy thought about Susan and her family as he drove on. She had almost
been his first friend! He thought she was different, but she hadn't been. The
Master had showed him that. The Master had shown him how she was just like
all of the others. . . . . .And her family too.

It was late. The time exactly, who knew? Who cared? The duo had stoped at a motel. A storm was building. The master watched over his young apprentice. So young, so naive he thought to himself. The room was dull with tacky prints of famous art taking over the walls. The boy slept, quietly, easily, considering the events that had unfolded. The master closed the door, already anticipating the young boy's next task. Tomoro will be the real test. It will make today look like spilt milk at sunday school. He sat at a cheap kitset desk and pulled out a small piece of paper from his coat pocket. His steady hand jotted down notes for the mindless maniac in the room next door, knowing he would not be here when the boy awoke.

The rain that had started hours ago now had grown into a full-fledged monsoon.
Thunder crashed across the rooftop of the motel, shaking the frail structure to the
limits of one's madness. It woke the boy, sending him cowering into a corner for
just a fraction of a second until he remembered where he was. Ashamed of
himself, he pulled the Glock from his waistband and ran to the door, flinging it
open and challenging any and all things that moved or gave him any trouble.
Only the loud, cold rain answered him as it beat down on everything.

He was thirsty. And where was the Master? Looking around the inside of the motel
room, he did not feel the Master's presence. The Master had left him alone, again!

He picked up the empty icebucket and headed out to find the ice machine. Maybe
a cold Coke would kill his thirst. He ran down the steps through the pelting rain
and found the ice machine and the Coke machine right across from the laundry
room. As he got closer he could see a body laying beside the Coke machine. It's
eyes were missing, a sure sign that the Master had been here and gone. In the
laundry room, he found three more, torn up badly. No eyes either! He began to
laugh crazily. He walked over and filled his icebucket, and walked back out into
the rain. He was still laughing, snarling actually.
Maybe the Master left him directions. He'd see. The rain got colder.

He crept back into the motel with an evil grin on his face. Surley his master had left him instructions for the morning. He eyed the main room, looking for anything from his master. Over on a desk he saw what he was after, a note.
There lay a note with step by step instructions.
Step 1: Go to the fridge. So he did. He pulled it open and stared inside. He started to giggle childishly as he pulled out a plastic air tight bag filled with eight eyeballs.
"Ohh, I wonder who these belong to" he whisperd as he broke into laughter.
He looked back at the note. He should have waited, but no, he wanted to start now, he wanted to start the chaos. He put the note in his pocket and walked back over to the desk. He looked underneath, there was a box, as the note said there would be. Moments later it was open and he was very happy indeed. Four items.
The first was a Mac 10 Uzi, this was enough to fill any teenagers wildest shootout fantacy. The second was a key, a house key. The third......

. . . . .was a map of some sorts, showing the current location of the mobile
research lab that had evaded them for the last few weeks. Good ! The Master had
found it ! Now they would really begin to exact their revenge! The lab was where
it had all begun, where their humanity had been painfully extracted from them,
where they had first realized that humans could torture other humans without any
remorse whatsoever, and in fact enjoy doing it! He hated the lab, hated it with all
of his being.
The fourth item was a list of four names. And this is what the damn housekey was
for! A list of tormentors. A list of those that had made him this way. Had made him
hateful and mean ! The brief note at the bottom of the list said that they were
living in a small house just around the corner from where the mobile lab was
parked. He grabbed the Uzi and began to laugh crazily, loudly. He went out and stood in the cold rain and continued to laugh. Now he had the computer geeks as
well ! The programers ! He'd get them good ! He hated them too ! Hated them !
Laughing in the sopping rain, he read their names out loud. CMAN! ZANZIBAR!
LOST SAILOR! EARTH TONE! He turned the key over and over in his hand.

The rain came down harder and harder. He went back inside, put down the list,
and picked up the bag of bloody eyeballs. Holding the bag up in the air, he began
to talk to each one. "Eye there, how are you?" "Oh, eye to you too!" "Eye there!"
"Eye". "Eye there." "Eye to you too!" He started to laugh, thinking about an old
school-yard song he'd heard :
"Great big gobs of mutilated monkey meat,
little birdies dirty feet,
french-fried eyeballs soaked in purple-peoples' blood,
. . . . . .and I . . .forgot my spoon.
Oh I forgot my spoon, yes I forgot my spoon . . . . .

The wind caused the door to slam shut, scaring the hell out of him. He dropped the
bag, slipped and fell on his head, knocking himself senseless. Outside, the storm's
intensity continued to grow. Miles away, the Master stood across the street from
the house of the tormenters, watching.

Tick.. tock.. tick.. tock......He woke, his vision unfocused, trying to set gaze on the clock on the wall. His head thumped like war drums, beating into his soul. He staggard to his feet and quickly grabbed a chair. Soon after, the boy started to realise somthing. He could remeber things, things from before the experiments, they were blury visions, but memories none the less. Images flashed through his head. After the experiments his master had taken him away, to be safe, to be free. The master had enrolled him in a school, just recently infact. But all Of his memories revovled around his master, his only parent... But that wasn't true, he remeberd his parents, their faces at least.
How did i become seperated from them?
How did i get involved in these experiments?
What the hell is my name?........ He thought hard on this, my name?
He spoke gently "my name is.." again "my name is..." He tried to think of his parents calling out his name, he knew they did, he had this memory.....
"my...name..is..... DAVID!"
Instantly his life had been changed, not for the first time. But his master, would he be so understanding, would he be angry that David could remeber. His master wasn't the understanding type. The master had always said he couldn't remeber anything from after the experiments either. But somtimes, somtimes David didn't believe him. How come he's always calling people? He must remeber them.

The Master watched through the rain, until morning. He wondered if the boy was
on his way. Leaving him so abruptly yesterday probably wasn't the best thing to do,
but it had been necessary. The boy was the focal point of all of this! Always had
been! But was he ready? Would he follow instructions? Would he destroy utterly and completely when he had to? Would he kill again?
Shutting out all hints of doubt, the Master crossed the street.

David! That was his name, David! Master called him "boy", but his real name was
David. David Malice. Malice! David Malice! . . .He knew that he was starting to
remember things, and his head hurt even more from the realization.
. . . . Only son of Dr. John Malice and wife Ruth. ( His mother and father, what
happened to them?) His father had been an experimental scientist in a top secret
facility in Utah! His mother had been his research assistant! It was genetics or
gene-splicing or cloning or something like that! And they had been forced to use
him in one of their experiments! He was remembering everything now. He saw his
mother crying, his father dying. He remembered. The experiment! The pain!
The blackouts! . . . . . . . . But he couldn't remember about the Master! Why not?

David needed answers. He knew where to get them. The scientists, the same ones he was supposed to murder in a matter of hours. He couldn't kill them, he would never have a chance of finding out the truth about what happend. But it was his duty, his master gave him the order, the master would not tolerate disobedience.

5:30am. David packed the Uzi in a crude home made pouch on his side. He strapped the Glock to his leg and rolled his trouser leg over top. His blood was rushing, giving him the feeling he knew to well. It was the feeling he got before carrying out the hits. He liked the feeling, he loved the feeling, though he wished he didn't. He hated what he had become. He thought about suzy.Suzy never wanted to hurt me, she wanted to be my friend.
David knew what he had to do, even if the master would make him pay. He grabbed a long leather jacket that his master had left for him, conceling the wepons. He stormed out of the motel and began to walk towards the mobile unit.
David started to remeber the scientists' faces. He knew them, he knew them well. They were friends of his parents, they had come to his birthday parties as a child.
David reached the street, he could see the lab and the house. The lab was dark, most likely empty. The house however had lights on. David could see figures moving around in the shodow of the curtains. He thought he had first go to the mobile lab. Maybe he could find out some information about what happend. David walked up to the large unit. It was close to 25 feet long. David remembered it well, but didn't know how he would get in. He reached for the Uzi, then stopped short, the Glock would be much quieter. David walked to the door of the unit and aimed the pistol towards the lock. He waited, there was a large bridge not far from him, he had to wait for somthing loud. Then he saw it, a truck, coming fast. David held his breath and as the truck passed he let off two rounds, sending sparks to the cold wet concrete. The door slowly swung open with a creak. What David saw, he was not prepared for.


[edit on 10-8-2006 by Apoplexy123]