02-20-2017, 02:16 PM
A little girl watches from her father’s shoulders as a young boy is hanging from a rope, his eyes lifeless, his body gone completely slack. Her eyes are fixated on the rope, not quite being able to comprehend what just happened to this boy she used to play with in the yard.
She watches as his body is cut down and taken to a giant fire on the outskirts of town. Having learned at a young age that fire burns you, she starts crying out as his uninhabited corpse is thrown into the fire, causing sparks to fly into the sky and rain down onto the townspeople. The bodies of the two bandits killed in the raid are thrown on top of his, causing smaller spark showers. The air begins to smell of their burning flesh, mixing in with the usual smell of the desert.
A stone’s throw away from the fire is the town’s graveyard. Buried unceremoniously lies the woman that was killed by friendly fire in the raid. The girl and her father stop by the grave on their way home, the little girl unsure of why her father is crying so much. He sits there for almost an hour before taking his daughter’s hand and leading her home.
Inside of their house is a giant stock of flowers, all bought from the shower shop whose owner is now happily counting his coins, planning a trip out of this crappy little town to Carrefore. The girl watches as her father collapsed in his chair, and began to drink a golden liquid straight from the bottle that he kept on the shelf all day and told her never to drink from.
The girl watched as her father drank the entire bottle and collapsed in his chair. She slowly walked up to him and tugged on his sleeve, to know response. She tugged on his arm. “Daddy?” No response. The girl began to cry. “Daddy?!?” The girl’s father sat motionless in his chair.
“Mommy?” The girl left her father’s side and began to search the house for her mother. “Mommy?!?” The girl searched every inch of the house before returning to her father’s chair. “Daddy, where’s Mommy?!?” When the girl got no response, she crawled up into a ball and began crying. Her wails could be heard throughout the whole town, as they listened to her crying in silence.
The girl ran out of her house, and ran through town to the house that she had spent a fair amount of her childhood at, playing with her friend that she had known her entire life. She bagned on the door relentlessly, the tears falling from her face, causing the sand beneath her to clump together. “Damien! Damien, open the door!” Her pounding was met with silence, as Damien was unable to open the door. Damien would never do anything again.
The girl slowed her banging until it concluded in her in a ball on the ground, slowly turning the sand beneath her into the consistency required to create a sand castle. The other members of Drunswick looked on in horror, ashamed of what they had done to this poor little girl.
After a good hour or more of crying, the girl was finally taken home by one of the members of the town. She found her father still passed out in his chair. Or, at least, she assumed he was passed out. She crawled into her bed and cried for the rest of the afternoon, and deep into the night.
The town went sleepless, their actions resting on their conscious. But in the end, there was nothing they could do to help this little girl. Her mother was dead, her best friend dead, her father an alcoholic.
This is what happens when people try to help. All they do is screw things up even worse. And then people try to punish those that screwed up. And then they hurt someone else accidently. When does it end? When does the circle stop? Who breaks the cycle? This little girl?
Doubtful. The next morning, when the girl’s father drank himself to oblivion again, she found his old handgun, and shot herself in the stomach. She bled out on her living room carpet, the white slowly fading into pink, and then a deeper shade of red. Her father never even stirred as his daughter’s life essence slowly faded into nothing.
The town found her body the next day, when she wasn’t seen anywhere around the town. The town tried her father for child negligence, found him guilty, and hung him in the same manner is Damien. His body was burned, and his daughter was buried next to her mother. The town was silent throughout the whole manner.
The town went to sleep early that night, and was unaware of the bandits coming back. They set a ludicrous amount of explosives to the buildings, wanting revenge for the murder of their leader. The bombs detonated in the middle of the night, completely destroying the buildings that the sleeping people were inside of.
The entire town was destroyed in the bombings. The fires from their burning houses could be seen for miles, and the stench of their burning flesh could be smelled for many more. The town was destroyed, and never recovered.
And so ends the tales of Drunswick.
She watches as his body is cut down and taken to a giant fire on the outskirts of town. Having learned at a young age that fire burns you, she starts crying out as his uninhabited corpse is thrown into the fire, causing sparks to fly into the sky and rain down onto the townspeople. The bodies of the two bandits killed in the raid are thrown on top of his, causing smaller spark showers. The air begins to smell of their burning flesh, mixing in with the usual smell of the desert.
A stone’s throw away from the fire is the town’s graveyard. Buried unceremoniously lies the woman that was killed by friendly fire in the raid. The girl and her father stop by the grave on their way home, the little girl unsure of why her father is crying so much. He sits there for almost an hour before taking his daughter’s hand and leading her home.
Inside of their house is a giant stock of flowers, all bought from the shower shop whose owner is now happily counting his coins, planning a trip out of this crappy little town to Carrefore. The girl watches as her father collapsed in his chair, and began to drink a golden liquid straight from the bottle that he kept on the shelf all day and told her never to drink from.
The girl watched as her father drank the entire bottle and collapsed in his chair. She slowly walked up to him and tugged on his sleeve, to know response. She tugged on his arm. “Daddy?” No response. The girl began to cry. “Daddy?!?” The girl’s father sat motionless in his chair.
“Mommy?” The girl left her father’s side and began to search the house for her mother. “Mommy?!?” The girl searched every inch of the house before returning to her father’s chair. “Daddy, where’s Mommy?!?” When the girl got no response, she crawled up into a ball and began crying. Her wails could be heard throughout the whole town, as they listened to her crying in silence.
The girl ran out of her house, and ran through town to the house that she had spent a fair amount of her childhood at, playing with her friend that she had known her entire life. She bagned on the door relentlessly, the tears falling from her face, causing the sand beneath her to clump together. “Damien! Damien, open the door!” Her pounding was met with silence, as Damien was unable to open the door. Damien would never do anything again.
The girl slowed her banging until it concluded in her in a ball on the ground, slowly turning the sand beneath her into the consistency required to create a sand castle. The other members of Drunswick looked on in horror, ashamed of what they had done to this poor little girl.
After a good hour or more of crying, the girl was finally taken home by one of the members of the town. She found her father still passed out in his chair. Or, at least, she assumed he was passed out. She crawled into her bed and cried for the rest of the afternoon, and deep into the night.
The town went sleepless, their actions resting on their conscious. But in the end, there was nothing they could do to help this little girl. Her mother was dead, her best friend dead, her father an alcoholic.
This is what happens when people try to help. All they do is screw things up even worse. And then people try to punish those that screwed up. And then they hurt someone else accidently. When does it end? When does the circle stop? Who breaks the cycle? This little girl?
Doubtful. The next morning, when the girl’s father drank himself to oblivion again, she found his old handgun, and shot herself in the stomach. She bled out on her living room carpet, the white slowly fading into pink, and then a deeper shade of red. Her father never even stirred as his daughter’s life essence slowly faded into nothing.
The town found her body the next day, when she wasn’t seen anywhere around the town. The town tried her father for child negligence, found him guilty, and hung him in the same manner is Damien. His body was burned, and his daughter was buried next to her mother. The town was silent throughout the whole manner.
The town went to sleep early that night, and was unaware of the bandits coming back. They set a ludicrous amount of explosives to the buildings, wanting revenge for the murder of their leader. The bombs detonated in the middle of the night, completely destroying the buildings that the sleeping people were inside of.
The entire town was destroyed in the bombings. The fires from their burning houses could be seen for miles, and the stench of their burning flesh could be smelled for many more. The town was destroyed, and never recovered.
And so ends the tales of Drunswick.
[Today 11:50 PM] Luci : ermegerd yuki you can hunt me ernytime ![[Image: awe6.png]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/smilies/awe6.png)