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Memoires of a Monster-=MEMOIRES of a MONSTER=-Memoires of a Monster
In my old, battered black wallet I carry many things. A letter from a friend. My new army dog tags. My star pilot’s licence. Many other tidbits and items as well. There is one thing, however, that I prize above all my possessions. It is a photograph.
It has faded so much that I can barely make out what it is anymore, but that does not matter. The image is burned into my brain, branded on the back of my scarred eyeballs, along with other sights that still haunt me to this day. This is the only image in my mind that is a positive one, now. I have seen too many horrible things to be able t
by ~Malus-Jay-Darkblade
Spirit Stick“Begone, evil spirit. Leave this body, and return to the abyss from whence you came.”Spirit Stick
Of course, the words were in his native language, and not the one that you and I speak today, for his tribe did not know of the wider world, and most certainly did not know of English. Perhaps it was better that way, for how many tribal people have benefited from joining the modern world?
The Shaman was oblivious to all this as he rattled his spirit stick, the noise it made was supposed to scare away the evil spirits that had invaded the old man’s body and plagued his mind. Of course, we would argue that there is no s
by ~Malus-Jay-Darkblade
TIE Pilot“Move it Tarl! He’s right on your tail!”TIE Pilot
Like I don’t know that already.
The insistent flash on my targeting computer tells me that he’s got a lock on me. And that’s all I need to know. The red light beside the yellow target lock one isn’t flashing, and that’s a good sign. It’s always a good sign. Of course it is, he hasn’t got any missiles.
Bit of a moot point, though, I havn’t got any missiles either. Hell, I don’t have torpedoes, missiles, chaff, or even life support. Nothing that’d give me a quick fix out of this. The Empire sure loves
by ~Malus-Jay-Darkblade
THE MADNESS OF WARLooking around at the corpses by my feet, at the pool of blood I am standing in, mixing with the dried and crusted layer that already covers my once pristine combat boots with the smell of burnt flesh tickling my nostrils. I cannot help but wonder what ever happened to the revulsion, horror and sorrow that I used to feel, when confronted with such carnage.THE MADNESS OF WAR
The blood seeping into my gloves has stained them a dark brown, an ugly colour, a far cry from the natural green that they once were. But, I can barely remember what they looked like when they were clean. They’ve been covered in gore for so long, for what seems like foreve
by ~Malus-Jay-Darkblade
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Devious Info
- Personal Quote: "An empty mind is like a pot for the Reaper to piss in."
- MSN: darkblade_jedi@yahoo.com.au
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