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Thread: Salt [Seltack and Blue Demon]

  1. #1
    Dead. Don't ask. x.x Blue Demon's Avatar
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    Salt [Seltack and Blue Demon]

    Immortality. The ability to cheat death. Everyone wishes for it. Everyone. But no one wants to play the price for immortality. If you eat the flesh of a mermaid you can live forever. But there's a catch. There always is. Once you eat the flesh of a mermaid you will hunger for it. It wont go away. You will live out eternity craving another bite. The constant hunger would be enough to drive a normal man mad. Imagine forever with a starving craving hunger in your stomach that will never go away. That's the price of immortality.

    Once upon a time there was a young man. He was afraid of death. He wandered the world looking for a way to cheat it. He talked to Gods. He riddled with Dragons. He even made a pact with a Devil. But nothing would stop him from aging, from getting older, from dying slowly day by day. Until one day he met a man fishing on the coast. The fisherman told the man about the mermaids.

    Mermaids, he had said, live deep in the ocean. They have human faces and bodies, but where their legs should be, they have tails. The fisherman said that mermaids keep to themselves. They rarely come to the surface of the water. Curiosity was the only thing that could lure a mermaid to shore.

    The now old man told the fisherman that he had no interest in fables. For he had never seen a mermaid in all his travels. The fisherman laughed. It is no tale, he told the man. I saw one in my youth. The fisher confessed that he had never seen anything so beautiful. Then he told the old man that mermaids held the power over life and death. He said that mermaids never die and if one was to catch them, they could cheat death also.

    The old man thanked the fisherman and went on his way. In the darkest night of the year he went back to the ocean. The old man called up a merman from the ocean. How do I live forever? The old man asked the fishman. The merman laughed. There is no way to cheat death. Everything dies as is the proper order of things.

    The old man in anger killed the merman. He was going to leave the body on the shore when he saw the fisherman again. The fisherman walked up to him and gave him a sly smile. You have to eat it for it to save you. Then the fisherman turned into a devil and vanished. The old man turned upon the merman and ate him whole. Thus becoming immortal.

    ------

    "Shit." An older man cursed as he stared at his car's smoking engine. The man was driving a van. It had no windows in the back. It was riding rather low as if heavily burdened. What more could go wrong? The man rubbed a wrinkled hand over his balding head. Thin whips of white hair stuck out crazily. It gave him a slightly wild look.

    The man looked around to see of anyone else was around. There wasn't. Not very many people drove along this road at night. It went from the city out to a deserted stretch of beach. Since it was winter, no one used it. The ocean was too cold for swimming. The old man however drove this road every night. People had talked about it when he first moved in three years ago. But now they just ignored him as a little strange.

    The old man looked at the back of his van as there was a strange noise. He didn't move until it stopped. He sighed and sat on the bumper of the car. He couldn't get it working, but he wouldn't leave it here over night. Something might happen to his cargo. On the same hand, he couldn't call anyone to help him. For what if they discovered his treasure.

    The old man thought about it then pulled out a cell phone. That might work. He dialed a number then waited. There was a cranky voice on the other side. "I need someone to help with a job. Someone who'll follow orders and not ask questions. Know anyone?"

    The old man waited for an answer. Then he smiled when one came.
    Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.
    ---Tupac Shakur

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  2. #2
    Sam had ignored the cell phone three times before deciding to pick it up on the fourth. Rolling from the side of the the bed, he first reached for the handle of Jack on the nightstand. Finding that it was empty, he threw it behind him, not concerning himself with the loud crash of glass as it hit a wall. Picking up the phone, he flipped it open without even looking at the call information. The voice on the other end was very displeased that he had to call several times before getting an answer.

    "Are you seriously still n bed? Did you have another black out session?!" Sam pulled the phone away from his ear to keep his eardrums from rupturing. After the man on the other end calmed down, he put the phone back to his ear.

    "Please tell me the reason you called was not to be my mother..." Sam said flatly into the phone, rummaging under the bed for another bottle he watched fall under it last night. Grabbing the bottle, he smiled to himself as he opened it and took a long drink from the bottle.

    "No, I learned long ago that you'll never change." The man on the phone paused for a moment, trying to decide if he should say more. "Look, I've got a job lined up for you. Big money, just don't ask any questions about it. All you need to do is pick up a guy and his cargo off old Route 97. His shit broke down, and he needs a lift." It sounded fishy to Sam, but if he was just picking up and dropping off, he could use the drinking money.

    "Yeah, whatever. Let him know I'll be there..' There was a pause on the phone as Sam waited for a response.

    "Look, Sam..." There was a pause as the man on the phone tried to think of exactly how to word what he was thinking. "You know that it wasn't your fault. You did all you could have..." Sam's hand twitched slightly, gripping the bottle tightly.

    "Let him know I'll be there shortly..." Sam clicked off the cell and threw it on the nightstand. Grabbing a clean shirt, he began searching for his keys so he could get this show on the road, his friend's words still haunting him.


    ---


    Half an hour later, Sam was jumping into the cab of an old Chevy Silverado. It had been a buddies of his until they deployed. Now it was his to try and keep in one piece. Half the money he made went into the booze he drank. The other, went into this truck. Leaning over the seat, he opened the glove box and pulled out an H&K .45 pistol. Checking the magazine, he slid it into his belt and started the truck. Holding the steering wheel for a moment, he finally took off towards the interstate road that his 'client' was abandoned on. With any luck, he would be back to town before Happy Hour was over...








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  3. #3
    Dead. Don't ask. x.x Blue Demon's Avatar
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    The older man rubbed his hands briskly after the phone call. All of his attention was on his van. His grey eyes narrowed and he began to sway. The motion was odd, jerky, and unnatural. It didn't follow any pattern the eye could discern. Then a tenor voice began to be heard on the ocean breeze. The voice didn't say anything in any recognizable languages. But the air around the man began to blur as if someone was viewing it through misty glasses.

    There was quiet as the man suddenly stood still. Then he moved slowly to the back of the van. He opened the doors gently. Inside the van was an old trunk. Old, ancient, and cried out that it was worth a small fortune. He opened the lid of the trunk and looked at the contents. A thin smile appeared over the old man's face. As far as anyone could tell, there was only old nicknacks in the trunk.

    The old man nodded his head. It was safe. As long as no one smelled the sea. He stepped out of the van and went back to waiting. His paitence was rewarded as a pair of headlights came into view. He stood up and waved at the car. As he got closer he noticed it was a pickup truck. Just perfect. He nodded again to himself. Perfect.
    Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.
    ---Tupac Shakur

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  4. #4
    Sam saw the old man jump out of his van as he came over another hill. He had traveled a majority of the road, and he had been wondering if his friend had just pulled his chain to get him away from the drinking. After the man began to wave him down, he knew for sure it was no joke, and that he'd have to give the man a lift, wherever that might be. Pulling up beside the van, he put the truck in park, but left it running. Clicking the safety off his pistol, he opened the door and slid his jacket on.

    "I'm guessing you're the guy who needs a ride. Have some cargo too, don't you?" He had long sobered up from his night of drinking, but he still smelt strongly of alcohol. Taking a look at the van, it looked liked something you'd park in front of a school, and paint 'free candy' along the sides. Shaking his head, he let it go from his mind. This was a no questions deal, and he would honor it. Walking behind his truck, he let the tailgate down.

    "Need a hand with the stuff?"








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  5. #5
    Dead. Don't ask. x.x Blue Demon's Avatar
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    The old man watched the truck pull up next to his van. A younger man stepped out. Who reeked of alcohol. The older man frowned. That wasn't in his plans. He was not going to get in wreck tonight. Especially not after his first success since moving into this town.

    "Have you been drinking?" The old man ignored the questions that the other man should already know the answers to. "If you're just going to get into a wreck, I'm not going through with this."

    His cargo was too precious. Maybe he could just take out the drunkard and take his car, after he helped move the 'trunk'. Since the old man couldn't carry it himself. It was too heavy between the water and the prize. He old man shook his head before the other man could reply.

    "Whatever. Just give me a hand." He gestured to the open doors on the van. The 'trunk' sat innocuous inside. Me might have worried about the smell of the sea coming from the 'trunk' but between the ocean proximity and the smell of alcohol, chances were slim the drunkard could see through the illusion.
    Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.
    ---Tupac Shakur

    My Roleplayer List Submission|||My Characters|||My Interest Check Thread for 1x1

    Made by the Amazing Vanquished
    GMT +8

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