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Post by Asphyxia on Jun 20, 2008 15:55:09 GMT -7
They say that in this world, at night, the cemetery grounds start to rumble just exactly at dead time--3:00 AM. When the rumbling and vibrations stop, it gets dreadfully quiet... utterly silent. A thick, misty fog starts to raise Hell over the tombstones and gravestones, giving that chilling and eerie feeling around the ambient. A thorough sound of moans start to cover the grounds, loud and obnoxious as the ground crumples up; rotting, dead, flesh start to rise up from the remains of the underground. The thick fog takes a crimson color, mixed in with the horrid, putrid smell of crawling, dead flesh fills your nostrils. From the rising catacombs, inhuman spirits command their feet. Newly dead creatures their sidekicks, saving ground and quickening their pace just to step up into your space and devour every single part of your mortal soul, draining down your precious rubies that keep you alive and mingle and contort your body into many different twists, munching and feasting down on your flesh and insides, leaving the residue bones down for the rest of the creatures to taste on.
Interesting, right? Well... come and take a look if you dare.
Down walked a figure over the side walk of the cemetery gates. He came slowly into a halt, the darkness sweeping along with his own inhuman pace. The endless sea of black attiring the figure's body was just gently decorated with a fine, silvery-trim lining, crimson decorating the rest of the trimings and the rest of the decorated suit. There was also an unknown, but sweet scent of myrrh swimming off this person. Whoever he was, he smelled pretty good considering myrrh was a rare scent.
Raising an arm, his lavender hues went to spy the wrist watch over his arm. "2:50 AM," he hissed underneath his breath lowly. Only ten minutes to go and prove this place wrong...
[you can be someone making company to this figure or just a newcomer lurking around, I guess, lol.]
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Post by Dara on Jul 23, 2008 1:56:47 GMT -7
A soft footstep falls in the silence. It is only Morgan late for the experince, yet still on time. Hed been supposed to be here at 2:30 am.. He was surprised to see the other here, hed expected him to have chickened out by now. No ones been here at 3 and lasted. Morgan expected it to be Nonsence of course. The stories Hed heard where probabl exaggerted but hed brought a knife from the Kitchen just in case.
"So Anything Happen yet?" He asked casually coming to stand next to the other . Whereas his friend wore a suit he was causual, Black Jeans and a shirt with a skull on it "Not that its Like to anyhow"He made his statement in a simple tone making no excuse why he was late
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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 24, 2008 16:55:55 GMT -7
Lavender eyes took a small glance at the newcomer and with a proud scoff, the figure shook his head backwards. "You're late, Morgan... but not late for the show. Only ten minutes until three A.M." Informed the man in black attire named Nocturne.
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Post by Dara on Jul 24, 2008 17:14:52 GMT -7
"Yeah well I couldnt get away" Morgan didnt apologise, Hell he never apologised for anything. "At least I didnt miss the show , although I doubt there is going to be one, Nothings hapened and Nothing will" He told the older man. The dark haired Teen (is it ok to keep him as a teen in this rp?) was only there as a result of a dare. Morgan never resisted a dare yet and this was one hed wished he had. The place spooked him
It didnt stop him taking a curious and wary look around and testing where the blade was in his pocket just to reassure himself and give him just a little confidence.
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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 24, 2008 17:36:45 GMT -7
"We'll just have to wait," said the older man patiently, his eyelids halfway opened as he mindlessly paced forward without saying anything else, walking exactly in front of the entrance to the cemetery gates. He took another small glance at his watch and lurked his eyes around the gravestones, feeling nothing but the chills of a cold weather hindering by.
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Post by Dara on Jul 25, 2008 1:34:14 GMT -7
"Is it 3 yet?" Morgan asked impatiently. It was the question of an impaient child, that asks the question over and over again on any given Journey."Its got to be three by now sir" He asked leining against one of the cold , marble stones " come on all you creepies its 3 am time for the show" He added scastic under his breath.
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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 25, 2008 17:05:00 GMT -7
Nocturne quickly took a harsh glance towards the impatient teenage boy, his eyes narrowed just the smallest, but perfectly concealed behind a lack of expression. "Five minutes until three A.M., boy. Be patient... the dead doesn't come up because you call them," Nocturne hoarsely stated, his eyes shifting back to the Rolex watch on his wrist. Time was passing by awfully fast, faster than before now that there were 3 minutes left until it was 3:00 A.M. sharp.
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Post by Dara on Jul 28, 2008 1:34:42 GMT -7
"Five minutes" Morgan complained softly leaining on a grave stone. He was bored and ready to go home. If only it would get to three am al ready then he could go home before he was caught by his Parents.But first he had to Ace this dare "And they should, After all we are giving up our time, to be there Audience. Its only Good Manners after all"He answered smugly pretty confidant he had the last word on the Matter.
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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 28, 2008 23:50:41 GMT -7
Nocturne rolled his eyes indifferently. Just another teenager... Nocturne mumbled to himself mentally, checking his watch. One minute to dead time. A sweat slowly cascaded down the side of the raven-haired man's dull face, his eyes widening, his color almost draining white, perplexed. He could already feel the acids in his stomach shifting and stirring frantically and uncomfortably. The eerie sensation already started to creep into his system, an utter, filling smell of formaldehyde perfuming the air. Out of the blue, the man's head shifted down to stare at his own, black, leather shoes to watch small pebbles beneath him rumble, shake and quiver quickly, but in small amounts in a thorough movement. "One... minute..." he whispered in between pressed lips, stealing his glance back to the grave stones from afar since he was standing near the cemetery gates. All of the sudden, the ground started to rumble even a little harder.
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Post by Dara on Jul 29, 2008 1:01:40 GMT -7
Morgan had been confident he'd recieved the last word for once with an adult around.Smething rarely the teen was able to do. He rarely was able to do he glanced at the gates, werent the open a moment ago? He shrugged not giving voice to his thoughts espically as the older man seemed so relaxed.
Morgan was getting scared, he could feel the ground moving under his feet, the putrid smell invading his nostrils "I guess its 3 am" he whispered wanting to bail and run home. But he didnt want to bail first, desite there being just two of them and he being the younger. "Ok come on out you creepies" he called softly "I aint scared" .
That was a Lie the boy was clearly frightened, he felt queasy in his gut, the first noise from the dead and hed be running tail between his legs, yet if he was asked hed den the fear that nestled in his stomach, in his knees , in the dryness of his throat.In his whole being.
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Post by Asphyxia on Jul 29, 2008 2:45:48 GMT -7
Nocturne's lavender eyes stared at the scared young boy that was trying to make himself look courageous... more than he really was just because of an insolent bet. He could tell this little act wouldn't last too long, but he wondered for how long could he hold it in to bear the dead rise before their eyes. When 3:00 A.M. sharp hit the clocks around the phase of the Earth, the ground stopped rumbling all of a sudden. Utter and complete silence hovered around the air with nothing to even abide by your ears. Not even the whispers and howls of the wind whipped through the foggy cemetery graveyard. The smell of formaldehyde left the aroma in the air. No sign of movement nor silhouettes played into the dense part of the cemetery.
Narrowing his eyes, Nocturne's clock has stopped entirely. "Something... is not right," the older man whispered lowly to Morgan, taking an involuntary step back.
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Post by Dara on Jul 29, 2008 3:11:58 GMT -7
"What do you mean not right?" He asked his voice trembling. Did this guy come here every night scaring young teens half to death? Was it Just a trick to frighten Morgan More . In his fear he hadnt noticed the arrid smell had gone. Just the stillnesss of the Night "You're just trying to frighten me right?"
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Post by Asphyxia on Aug 22, 2008 14:47:05 GMT -7
Squinting, the older man scooped a hand up, shielding it in front of Morgan to drag him along, more than ushering or beckoning him to join into the cowardice act. Slowly, Nocturne gyrated his head a 360 degrees to narrow his eyes and take a good look at his watch. As if the life of the battery was going to return, he kept his eyes glued on the golden, small golden hand that was once twitching with life. Now it was motionless until a sudden crack dived quickly into Nocturne's ears. His eyes came in sync with the sound, directly pin-pointing the location at a tombstone that had a stricken crack down in the middle of it. Suddenly, another crack was broke the talking silence as a rotten, corpse hand broke the surface of the living. Another glance and the golden hand was back to life, picking up pace in it's twitching, counterclockwise. "Run."
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Post by Dara on Aug 22, 2008 16:29:47 GMT -7
Hearing the soft crack of the gravestone , Morgan knew this was no longer a game. The acids in his stomach churned leaving a highly Nauseous feel to his stomach, and the harsh taste in his mouth. He swallowed hard trying to add moisture to his dry throat to no avail.
At the command to Run he was already halfway back to the gates, running blindly down the path, running into the closed gates. Unable in his fear to stop he crashed into them ending up in a heap on the floor.
Scrambling to his feet He gave the gates a tug despite it been a useless endeavour "Sir its Locked" He complained now deavoured by his own fear , He darent look back to see if the Old Man was following him " How do we get out? We have to get out? We will get out wont we?" He asked the questions in quick succesion hoping Nocturne would be there behind him and had the answer, because Morgan sure didnt and right now whatever was lurking under the cemetery floor wasnt letting anyone alive so easily.
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Post by Asphyxia on Sept 7, 2008 10:41:46 GMT -7
"Be quiet," Nocturne retorted wryly, his eyes narrowing faintly at the sight of all the corpses arising already from their eternal slumber. There were something in the older man's mind that cautioned him to keep contact with his bargaining self, trying to reason within his thoughts. But in a few minutes of being stiffened in his pose, he lost control of his inner being and fear already enthralled the rest of his motionless body, increasing his fear a notch bigger than it was before. His eyes widened in fear, he could feel the approach of the rotten creature dance fervently around the graves, frantically hearsing their way towards Nocturne. "RUN." This time, the growl emanating fiercely from his throat meant it when he directed it towards Morgan, himself taking a few steps back before dashing away.
"STOP!" A new voice echoed.
In command, the older man froze again, even more petrified than before. Faint snickers covered the ghastly ambient surrounding the older man and the younger teenager. Nocturne could feel himself clearing his throat to coax his shaky self and finally spotted the figure that stepped out of the murky debris, right in front of the pack of skeletons and disfigurated corpses as if he were some kind of leader in a herd. The raven-haired demon stood in horror as the appearance mirrored itself, only with a smugged smirk slanting over rosy, pink lips. Quickly, Nocturne composed himself, trying to be nonchalant and poised, hindering the prior expressions of fear that had simmered through his tone. Just what he loathed contorted his features quickly into disgust.
"Liked the show?" A more soft-bass tone countered, coming out of the man that looked just like Nocturne, only with eloquent expressions.
"How frivolous of you, Gerard," Nocturne icily spatted. Despite the disdain of his means, his tone remained velvety as bitter thin of his lips disappeared his lips.
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