Please register with your character's first and last name in all uppercase.
You can also click for the links to our member c-box & in-character c-box.







We currently have two holiday plots happening! The S.S.R.'s new year's eve party and the satanic bonfire. Members are able to join both or either plot!

Given we are currently undergoing a massive website revamp, we ask that you keep tabs on things that are being updated or changed. You can assess an updated thread of the revamp's progress by clicking here.

Happy holidays and a marvellous new year to all!
 
Add Reply
New Topic
New Poll

» [OS] I am the Monster In Your Head
STILES STILINSKI
 Posted: Jun 23 2014, 11:08 PM
Quote
WEREWOLF (LOUP GAROU)
Nineteen
Student
Stiles is Offline


The weather was perfect for death. He thought so at least, but then again he thought anything that would help him murder and destroy people piece by piece was perfection. It was after all his M.O. It had been for over a thousand years now. Chaos, destruction, pain and suffering, the very things that fed him like a newborn being giving mother’s milk. Kind of fitting since his vessel was a soon to be father. That make him chuckle as he stood outside the first house.

No one knew who he is, no one knew what he was. In fact all they knew was the poor boy he was now controlling was going insane. Only he wasn’t. In fact the boy was perfectly healthy , but they didn’t need to know that at the time. All they needed was to think he was going to die, that he was going slowly insane with every second he lived. What they didn’t need know was that the poor boy was just being inhabited by something so much greater then a petty disease.

He was over a thousand years old. One of the 4 great spirits that fed on the destruction of others. The voice of hundreds of evils in the world, the laughter on the winds of battle fields. And he was back once more in the body of a teenage boy, someone everyone loved, and nobody would hurt. Well…nobody of consequence that is, a few people may pose a threat to this body, but they would be no trouble to him soon enough.

The body let out a sigh as he felt the rain drops start to hit him. Perfect. He walked toward the house with a spring in his step and alight whistle coming from his mouth. It had been years since he had the prospect of food, and he was starving for it. The people in the house wouldn’t know what was happening, not till after it was too late. And god was he excited to taste their fear , their pain, and their panic.

He Had already took care of the hard part. It had been easy enough for him to find the hiding place of the creatures he destroyed. Hadn’t been hard to shut their power down. A house full of weapons it had been child’s play to go in and use a knife to murder the whole house. A house full of hunters, now long and dead. The blood that he had spilled on their floors and himself the only reminder that they once lived there. It had been a joyous task for him to end their pathetic lives.

You see this was a gift to himself, and to his vessel. For these were the hunters that killed the young boy, the hunters in which in killing the boy stopped the heart of his baby in his mates womb. The hunters that caused the boy so much pain and fear and suffering that it was possible for the spirit to be reborn into the world. And their destruction, and pain , their message, would be his gift to Stiles. It was the least that he could do for the poor soul. Before he ruined his life that was.

And now the dead bodies of the hunters piled into the back of the boy’s jeeps would serve a greater purpose. A warning. He would warn all those that could even think about stopping him , show them what would happen to those who stick their noses where it didn’t belong.

The first house was that of the Argents. The hunters that had once killed the boy’s Alpha’s family. Friends to the boy he now took control of. He didn’t fear them, he fear no one, but they would try to stop him, try to “save “ the boy who was the youngest murder’s friend. Because that really was what hunters were weren’t they? Murders who got off on it almost as much as he did .

He hummed a happy little tune as he dragged the body up the porch steps. The boy was already so strong, being wolf helped that, but now his power coursed through the veins of this body , making it a force almost unstoppable. He felt like an artist ready to show his work to the world, he had waited so long to come back. And he wanted to come with a bang. So his bang this time was going to be the argents coming down to see a hunter, eyes wide open a silver arrow shoved through his chest. What a beautiful work of art.

The next house was the Winchesters, more hunters but also home to the boy’s sister. They had a nasty habit of trying to rid the world of its evils. Which was bad for him because he fed on the pain those evils created. He only thought it was fitting that they receive a warning as well, one that they could experience…personally.

So He took the body of the female hunter and laid her out on their door step, he knew one of the children would most likely find it. He knew that he honestly couldn’t care less if the little brats were traumatized for life or not. He just cared that the adults got the message loud and clear. Which is why the female hunter had her heart cut out. Funny how you can learn so much by running around in a teenage boy’s mind. Like how his sister Anna had her heart cut out last year, poetic if you asked him.

The third stop was the hospital, but in more detail, the warning for the Doctor Trinity Olson. Out of all the people he was sending his gifts to, this was the one that could be the most dangerous. It was too public, to…recognizable. But he wasn’t older then dirt itself to just give up at something hard. So in some more poetic justice he pushed the body out the back of the jeep , with fresh wolfsbane shoved in the mouth and a stab wound clean into the hunter’s ribs. He wondered briefly how the good doctor would like the present, and then he just stop caring.

The Final stop in his perfect symphony was the great leader of the city, Marcel Gerard. This was going to be the fun one. The guards outside the compound were easy to dispatch , their heads rolling away from their bodies were the fun part. The cameras were also easy to take care of, it was something easy after all. No the hard part of it all , was to find a way to truly…get his message across. So he decided that the best way was to recreate his own masterpiece. So someone would come across the body, tied up with silver, a bullet wound in the thigh and chest, cuts all over his body, and a gag in his mouth with a message written in blood on the walls. He walked away from the house a wake of dead guards in his path and an evil smile plastered on his face.

The ride back to the boy’s home was one full of delight , it had been far too long since he had this kind of fun. And now that he could take control of the boy whenever he wanted. He could make their world burn whenever he wanted and the only person they could possible hurt is this boy. A boy everyone loved, and a boy who protected everyone. A son, a father, a brother…who would hurt him?

Over a thousand years he had been around, the oldest thing in the city. A force of destruction and chaos. The trickster spirit. The city of New Orleans should watch themselves. He had taken control of Stiles Stilinski, the boy that everyone loved. But that wasn’t who he was. He was the Fox, the Dark One, The Nogitsune. And just like the message he left on the wall said. He was Back.


PMAIM
^
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Topic Options
Add Reply
New Topic
New Poll