|
|
||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||
|
#1
04-27-2007, 03:00 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
lets wright our own horror novel
so i was thinking were all horror fans so we should come up with our own horror novel, all of us contributing. gus helped me come up with idea so thank him to. some one will start the story, probily me, and then some one else continues it and so on and so on, lets try to make this civil it can be any content but no bickering if you can help it, please try not to go over 4 sentences if you can help it, we dont need it to be finished in 6 posts. ok so ill start
it was pitch black out and he was standing behind the tree, watching as the couple stood in the street under the street lamp, the light ilumminating there hair. he new he was going to do it again, the urge was rising in the pit of his stomic boiling like acid
__________________
 I love the lines the men use to get us into bed. 'Please, I'll only put it in for a minute.' What am I, a microwave? 
|
|
#2
04-27-2007, 03:01 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
He put on his orange vest of terror, raised his stake high to the heavens... AIMED... ANDD.........!!! Stabbed and picked up another piece of litter.
__________________
 Quote:
None of this is real
|
|
#3
04-27-2007, 03:05 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
__________________
I love the lines the men use to get us into bed. 'Please, I'll only put it in for a minute.' What am I, a microwave?
|
|
#5
04-27-2007, 03:15 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
as he stabed the litter with his pick, he tought in side his dark mind how much he wished he could stab it in to there eyes. he so missed the tast of blood, but sience he got put on probation for attempted murder he new he had to control the urge, the hatred for humanity
(a combined effort of me and gus)
__________________
I love the lines the men use to get us into bed. 'Please, I'll only put it in for a minute.' What am I, a microwave? Last edited by bleeding_angelgirl; 04-27-2007 at 03:17 PM. Reason: spell corection
|
|
#6
04-27-2007, 03:43 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
he hated his life, every one and every thing in it was bleek and dismal.
every time he talked with some one his mind would wonder to the vast mutilation he pictured in his thoughts. all the horrible ideas he has in mind for those closest to him never seem to amaze him, but yet he has to resist the urge to kill, to torture... i only came up with the he hated his life part, everything else is lorens....and if you dont know who that is , too bad...
|
|
#7
04-27-2007, 03:48 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
because he knows that this time he will be caught and he will be found guilty, his last kill was lucky, the girl up against the fence of the tenis courts, well her guts had felt fantastic on his hands honestly, as if he was god, and he could take there life away with one simple cut with a scalple.....
this one was for you gus, happy you got your tennis cort
__________________
I love the lines the men use to get us into bed. 'Please, I'll only put it in for a minute.' What am I, a microwave? Last edited by bleeding_angelgirl; 04-27-2007 at 03:48 PM. Reason: spelling lol again
|
|
#8
04-27-2007, 04:23 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
...Now, every time he could think about killing, all the memories would flood back. He lusted for the power he had over life. It made his seem almost bearable. Now as the couple sat there macking at each other, all he could think about was that blood-lust that was intoxicating his mind...
__________________
Mortimer Brewster: No, no. I'm not a Brewster. I'm the son of a sea-cook! Ha! Ha! Chaaaaarrrge! Cab Driver: And I'm not a cab driver, I'm a coffee pot!
|
|
#10
04-27-2007, 07:10 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
b nisse u meenie!!!
__________________
Mortimer Brewster: No, no. I'm not a Brewster. I'm the son of a sea-cook! Ha! Ha! Chaaaaarrrge! Cab Driver: And I'm not a cab driver, I'm a coffee pot!
|
 |
|
|
