User talk:DarkestNight1

Edit with the Docs app Make tweaks, leave comments, and share with others to edit at the same time. NO THANKSUSE THE APP Death's Dark Assassin

Each day was almost the same every year. Always rainy and cloudy. Always unrelenting and unstoppable. The plants would always be the greenest they could be, but were always wilted by the forever rain. The house was small but fair. It had a small garage and only a few windows. This house was in a small clearing in the middle of the woods, but since it rained, it was anything but nice. The trees would creak and groan as the harsh wet wind pounded them without mercy. The grass would sway almost violently with the wind as it stayed low from it, but was eventually crushed by a tree or flooded by the rain. A car pulled up to the garage door, but the door didn’t open. The occupants of the car got out. The first to get out was a middle aged man with a short beard and short brown hair. His brown eyes glowed with red, the telltale sign of tears. The second to come out was a woman. Her light blue eyes were the same, red and near tear drenched. Her pure black dress was dotted with dark purple flowers at her hips and her shoulders. Her high heels clicked against the concrete and went to the back door of the car. She opened it carefully as to not stress the last occupant. It was a boy. He was barely 16, but he didn’t look like himself. His straight shoulder length black hair was pushed behind his back which revealed his face. His face was pale and tear drenched. His dark green eyes were also red with the tears that soon went down on his cheeks. His suit was a simple black suit with a black tie and shirt. Anyone could see that he wasn’t normal. He let out a small cry as he got up out of the seat. What people didn’t know was that he was involved in something that changed his life. All three walked to the door and went in unison with each other. The three were silent as the woman closed the door and went to sit down next to her husband. The boy however, went down the basement stairs and turned to his room. His room was simple with a few unusual things. Some posters of dark bands hung from one side of the wall while the wall behind the bed had only one thing hanging above it: a dream catcher. That gift from his brothers was his last. He was lucky enough to escape with only a broken rib and a bruised left arm. His brothers Tanner and Skyler died of their horrendous injuries two days after the crash. Both had multiple broken ribs and both a huge concussion. One had a broken neck and the other had both legs broken with his spine almost torn from his back. Vincent was lucky. He had his seatbelt on, so did Skyler but Tanner didn’t. Both were at the front of the car when it crashed head on to a semi truck then slid to hit another car. After it hit the other car, it slid again off the road and rolled into a tree on its left side. The front of the car was nearly pushed in and the top of the car was pushed down near the seats. Before Vince passed out, he saw his dear brothers for the last time. Both their faces were bloody but Tanner was worse. His legs were bent back in ways they shouldn’t and his head lolled back and forth. Skyler was another story. His chest was pushed in from the late inflated airbag and one of his legs was similar to Tanner’s. Vincent let out a slow, quiet breath as he tried to forget. Unfortunately, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his brothers sitting in the broken seats with their breaths quiet and the car smoking slowly as the blue and red lights of police quickly came down to the crash. There was slow movement outside the car as Vince passed out from the aftermath. His eyes teared up as he laid down on his bed. He looked up at the ceiling and wished it never happened. He knew his brothers too well. They never drank, they never stayed up; or at least tried to. They weren’t drunk that night, he could tell. But there was something off about them. They were on nerve, like something bad might happen in a scary movie. Like the killer was about to jump out to get one of the characters. He had to know, but before he asked, the car smashed into the semi, the car, then the tree and the ground. He got up off the bed and walked slowly to the low window that only showed the sky from and the tops of the dark trees. The rain slowed to a drizzle as the clouds went from gray to white. The wind also settled turning into a calm breeze and the trees swayed now gracefully. This didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was his old life back, but he knew this wasn’t a dream. This was a living nightmare. Nightmare. Ever since he was in the hospital for that one week, he had nightmares. But what was strange was that these nightmares weren’t of the crash, they were followed only by darkness. This dream repeated over and over again until the last night he stayed there. This time there was a figure coming from the darkness. His pure black jacket and pants made him a shadow while only one thing stood out. That was his pure green eyes shining in the dark like a cat’s. His movements were slick and pure, as if anticipating to tell of something. When he finally was in front of Vince in his dream, the figure stood motionless, just inches from his nose, his green eyes seemingly staring into his very being. Then the figure spoke in a deep, raspy voice:There is nothing for you now. Only death. You will feel it yourself one day, unlike today. You will feel it, then feel nothing at all. Vincent was scared by this entity. Something was almost off about it. It felt as if the being was inside himself. He tried to deny it, but he can never deny anything that comes and goes. He just wanted his life to end, but that scared him for the next week. He didn’t go to school that week because of his injuries, but soon he felt like he could actually walk around without looking and groaning like a zombie. That next Friday night, he went to bed feeling as tired as he could be. He tried to close his eyes, but whenever he did, he heard the sounds of the crash replaying in his ears as an imaginary mist. Then he heard something out of the dream, he opened his eyes and saw his dad walk in his room and sit on his bed. Next came his mother, her nightgown was a dark red, which made her look peaceful. She rubbed Vincent’s back over again as his dad started to talk. “You know, I had to deal with what you are too son,”he starts,”my big brother died when I was about your age. But I soon forgot, but I did remember the great times I did have with him.” His mom looked at him sadly and finally spoke,”Don’t worry honey, things will get better, I promise. With that she kissed his cheek and his father patted his back softly and both slowly exited the room. Vincent turned to the picture of both his brothers that was sitting on his dresser. He turned away and went to sleep, his emotions only being held back by the words of his parents. The next day was Saturday. One of the only days that Vincent liked and the only day he could talk to his friends at his home. His friends Sammie and Taylor were both great girls, but they were quite the mismatch when they came together. They would always bicker which of them was a better friend and Vince would step up to tell that both are great. When they came later that day, they were talking normally at the door. When Vince’s mom let them in and pointed down the stairs telling them he was down there, they both weren’t surprised that he had secluded himself. Both went down the stairs silently but when they reached the bottom, they were startled to hear banging in Vincent’s room. Both opened the door quietly and were surprised by what they saw. Vincent was sharpening a slick piece of metal. Right beside him was his dark green bow he used for sharpshooting. On one end of the bow was a mechanism that did something to both pieces of metal. One piece was fully on, stuck within the bows’ lower limb. Vincent added the next sharp knife-like metal to the upper limb and tightened it to the mechanism. He picked up the bow and did something that the girls had never seen. He pushed a button on the grip and both knives slid down the limbs, stopping right at the circular cams that held the bow string. Both knives were super sharp and shining bright in the dim light of his room. He turned surprised to see the girls. He pressed the button again the knives slid back to their original place. He lifted his welding mask and revealed a smiling face to the girls. Both of the girls returned the smile as they hugged Vincent. “Good to see you both,”he says with a happy tone. “You too,”Sammie answers. Sammie and Taylor almost looked like twins, but there was a slight difference in their cheekbones and eyes. Sammie's eyes were dark while Taylor’s eyes were a sky blue. Both girls’ hair was a dirty blonde and their bodies were smooth and graceful. Vincent liked the two girls. Both were always there for him and he was there for they. Both were the best of friends anyone could find. “You like the bow?”asks Vincent. “It’s certainly intriguing,”answers Taylor. They take a closer look at the bow. Its dark green paint shined in the room’s light. The knives on the limbs gleamed with a sharp edge that seemed like silver. The arrows were quivered and deadly, as they pointed away from the girls. The arrows were straight and true, waiting to be shot to the toughest armor. They looked back to see that Vincent got something in his hands. The box was small and simple with decorative wrapping. The girls smiled and both got it. When they opened it, they saw two silver rings with their names on them. They smiled at their friend who gave them the best smile he could. That night when the girls had left, Vincent decided to stay in his room, now that he was alone once more. His parents told him the usual that they were going to the store to get the weeks groceries. Vincent simply said ok and they both left, leaving the sixteen year old alone, but only for maybe an hour. During that time, Vincent decided that practicing with his bow would get his mind off other things. He got his black leather jacket and glove on and went to the backyard to practice. With a healing rib, it was hard enough, but he managed to pull back the arrow with a groan. Aiming at the hay bale, he released the arrow. The sleek object found its target; the rope holding the bale together. He smiled to himself. Aim is still good, he thought to himself. He quickly pulled out another arrow and shot it fast enough to catch even himself off guard. The arrow hit the other target; the other rope. He couldn’t believe it. He was never this good. He could hit the target right on, but from twenty yards with an object so thin and small, that was something else. He ran to the hay bale and pulled the arrows with a swift tug. He turned back to go inside, but before he could, he felt strange. The sensation was an electric feeling. He stood turning slowly around to the house then to the forest behind his home. He fell down to his knees when he heard it. The sound was a scratching like sound mixed with static. He let go of his bow and clenched his ears for mercy. Then he heard it, the voice that was haunting his dreams. You have talent, I like that. This can help us much more than I thought. You are coming with us, but first, there is only one loose end you must tie up to become the newest Proxy. When Vincent’s parents got home, they were in shock at what happened to their home. The couches were torn and thrown across the living room, the kitchen was a mess of crockery and pans. The bathroom was messed with the mom’s makeup and the dad’s shaving cream. On the mirror though, brought their heads to more confusion. The symbol was a circle with an x through it. They then thought their worst fears, what happened to Vincent? The ran down to his room to find that it too was trashed. His bow was missing along with the arrows. His black leather jacket was also missing along with his black gloves and ski mask with a full skull design on it. The two hunting knives were also missing off his wall. They turned to call the police upstairs when they heard a bang at the front door. The dad told his wife to keep going and call the police. He turned to the door once more and looked through the keyhole. Outside was a man wearing pure black with a dark green bow on his back and two empty hunting knife holders at his hips. Then Vincent burst through the door, his two knives in his hands. He jumped on his dad, who let out a wail. He only held his son back with a metal pipe that was going to be used for the pipes. He didn’t want to hurt his son, he couldn’t, but it was necessary. He pulled the pipe back and swung it into his son’s head. Vincent fell back, shocked and momentarily knocked out by the hit. His dad got up and ran up the stairs to the family room where he met his wife’s worried gaze. He felt a stinging sensation in his back, then in his stomach. He looked down just as his wife screamed and two large blades came out of his gut. He fell to the wall, blood flowing freely out onto the wall. He fell to the ground straight to a sitting position. He watched as the skull-masked Vincent strode to his mother. She got out the large kitchen knife from the shielding station and backed slowly to the back door. “Don’t run,”came Vincent’s voice, but it was different. It was deep and silent, like darkness itself. His mom quickly opened the door and ran across the yard to the trees to hide. Before she made it, she screamed in pain as a large arrow hit her straight into her spine. She was now just a sitting duck, her legs and arms unmovable. She felt a gloved hand push her over on her back. She saw that the arrow had protruded out from her back out to her belly. The skull faced figure knelt down at her side. She kept mouthing no over and over again. He looked her straight into her eyes as he slowly put his knives into her heart, which soon stopped with one last beat. Sammie and Taylor walked down the empty dirt road that lead to Vincent’s house. They were going over like he said: whenever they were free again. Why not a peaceful Saturday? This day was always was one of the best days of the week. When they came to his house, both stared in confusion and fright to find the front door open. Both looked at each other and walked slowly to the door. The stepped inside to find the front room and the rest of the house dark and abandoned. They walked to the back door and opened it slowly. Both girls screamed at the sight. Vincent’s parents had been hung by their feet upside down on the giant evergreens. Their throats were torn and their stomachs sliced open. Their blood was pooling below them in huge puddles of guts and the still warm liquid. The girls moved back slowly, both crying at the sight. Doing so, they bumped into something at their backs. They turned and found Vincent dressed all in black with a knife in his right hand and a skull mask in the other. He looked at them with his green eyes red and his mouth in the form of a crazed smile. Sammie runs for the front door while Taylor runs behind the table. Vincent takes off after Sammie. He tackles her to the ground with a big thump. Taylor had her chance and she took it. She ran for the front door as well but felt a stinging sensation on her back. She screamed in pain as she saw one of the knives had perfectly went straight into her back. She fell down and turned as she saw Vincent bring up another large serrated knife and plunge it into Sammie’s torso. She stopped moving instantly. His gaze went up to find Taylor crawling for her phone, which fell from her jacket. He walked slowly to her and stomped on her hand. A loud wet crack echoed across the house. Taylor screamed as her wrist was broken beneath Vincent’s foot. He grabbed her by the hair and got her up. She writhed and screamed for help but it was useless against the psychotic hunter. “My time here is complete,”he begins,”you are but my sacrifice to keep me alive. Be thankful, you helped me like you always do.” With that he took his other knife and put it to Taylor’s heart, and pushed in slowly. Taylor’s eyes fluttered as tears escaped and her mouth let out a small shriek. He let her go and she fell to the floor in a bloody mess. He smiled and put his mask back on. He was free. He was the hunter.