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    1. Morpheus297 9 yrs ago

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8 yrs ago
Current Man I hope my second rp goes alot more smoothly than my last one. The last one didnt even start. It failed to launch.....
1 like
9 yrs ago
My RP has hit a brick wall with no one else joining and I need two more people to start. And Overwatch is two days away....can I hold out a bit longer? Time will te-OVERWATCH WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!?
9 yrs ago
Bored as hell. When's Overwatch?

Bio

Hey guys I'm Morpheus, but you can call me morph for short. I love RPing, playing video games, reading, trying to draw and learning how to animate. I'm 22 years old and still have a long life ahead of me, why not spend some of it making ideas for fun RPs! :D

Most Recent Posts

While Tzar was unpacking the stolen food he started feeling a strange presence come around him, Like there were people near him, He looked for a moment, nothing. "HEY LAMBO, NOT FUNNY MAN COME OUT." He called throughout the celler. No response. "LAMBO!" he called, "Fuck man this aint cool, Youre scaring the shit outa me, Runner? Is it you? His heart was racing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of black, he followed it but saw nothing. It simply vanished. There! Again and again! "Whoever you are fucking stand still!" He got what he wished for. He followed the blur again until it stopped just in front of an enormous being that hardly fit in the cellar. "OH SHI- FUCK MAN IM SORRY TAKE THE FOOD HOLY SHIT! DONT HURT ME PLEASE! Fuck~ You're HUGE, man!"

Neither of the figures moved, despite them mimicking the tilt of his head. "What do you want?" Nothing. "Fine, okay I get it, the little guy is the talker-" "No more. Warning." "Warning? What!?" "We do not wish to hurt you, Tzar, For we are you." "What the hell are you talking about!?" "Tzar, An Evil has corrupted your world, We are here to help you." "Me? Evil? What!? How?" "We Train. Perfect. Then rebel." "Yes, We must train for the battles we will face, You must learn how to use us, then perfect us, We will help you fight off this blight, We will need to find allies also." "Wait woah woah woah, slow down. I demand that you explain everything." Tzar went up the stairs and locked the door and returned to be enlightened by the creatures that have fabricated themselves before him.


Dupree was stirring the pot of today's special, stewed beef with seasoned potatoes, still trying to get his mind off of what had happened earlier. Was he seeing things? Was his condition getting worse that he was beginning to hallucinate? Or was there really something there? He continued to question what had happened as he twirled the metal ladle in a counterclockwise motion around the rim of the pot, stirring the seasoned red potatoes and the beef. He was so preoccupied with his task, he failed to notice something was slowly rising being him, a dark figure which seem to be getting closer to him. Soon, Dupree felt a strange sensation run down his spine as he felt the urge to turn around,but something in his mind was telling him not to. Not wanting to be caught by surprise, he reluctantly decided to turn around, just to see a large figure, shrouded in darkness. He was taken aback by the sight and almost spilled the food in the spot. He could only stare at the figure, standing oh so still, as if a statue made of the shadows of the night itself. Nervously, he decided to speak to the figure, "Who are you?" Dupree spoke. "..." the figure did not say a word. Dupree was perplexed, wondering how this is even possible. Here he is, seeing a visible shadow being, standing right before him, motionless and silent. He didn't know what to do, but he needed to know more about what this thing i-the food! Dupree went back to tend to the pot of stewed beef and potatoes, then darted behind him to see if the shadow figure was still there, but it was gone. Now it seems Dupree had a new goal today, find that shadow figure and get to the bottom of this. Also hope that his food is impeccable.
A gunshot rang out in the ghettos of Mercer City. It was the part of town where gangs reigned supreme and thugs prowled the street, where people could just barely scrape by and had little hope of escaping this life. Though, one woman had escaped this wretched place, utilizing raw willpower alone to climb the ranks of the underworld. And now she was a traveling mercenary, and a top-tier one, in fact. When a member of Congress or some Governor needed some dirty deeds done, they called Kaitlyn Watson. Of course, her services weren't done dirt cheap. Her ascension to an affluent woman served as a shining example of the power of man, but also its cold cruelty.

But it was good to return to your roots every now and again, or so thought Kaitlyn. She had put her life of crime briefly on hold after her latest job, determined to find out more about the craziness happening in her home town. Clearly, these loons had something to do with the strange white-and-purple woman that manifested from her shadows recently. And the dead man laying before her, and in his own back yard, was one of those loons. And to test her control over this "Shade," she had it shoot the crazy man in the head after he grew irritating.

Her right arm ached just a tad after it shot him, leading her to believe whatever damage done to the shade was done to her, as well. A light grimace crossed her face. That was no good; this thing was likely physically weaker than her. Hell, it was like a child! Who got hurt after shooting a revolver? Well, unless it was shot in an elevator. That was hell for the ears.

"At least I got a bit of a lead..."
Kait murmured, looking at the notes she scribbled on her notepad. A shadowy figure appeared to this man in his dreams, telling him that his ascension was nigh, brought on by chaos. And the time this thing started appearing to him correlated suspiciously with that "darkness explosion" she had heard so much about recently, which apparently came from that new exhibit at the museum. With these new revelations, it couldn't be a coincidence.

So, her next mark was the museum. "Give me that gun back," she commanded the strange feminine figure, and it complied without question. She holstered the firearm and stood from the lawn chair she had sat in, stretching a bit. This thing was apparently a manifestation of her psyche; she needed to have something to call it, though. Just calling it a Shade was boring. So, the woman asked, "What's your name?" Not that she expected it to respond.

"The animal you have become,"
it murmured, its voice static-y and flat. Which surprised Kaitlyn quite a bit, of course.

"The animal I have become..." That was the name of a song, wasn't it? Some alternative or punk song, or something. Though, if it was a manifestation of her psyche, it was surprisingly accurate. A fitting name. Why not? "Let's shorten it. Animal I Have Become. How's that sound?"

"The animal you have become." Kaitlyn frowned just a tad. Hopefully this thing didn't say its name over and over again, like one of those Pokemon characters.

"Well, you better pick up the pace," the woman huffed, and turned to exit the backyard.


Just a few feet from the ending altercation, obscured by a large wooden fence, was a scared man in his early 40s. With a receding hairline, tacky pop culture shirt and slacks and a stubble of a beard, Reggie Wilkins was trying not to draw attention to himself or he'll end up like his neighbor, Barry. To be honest, Reggie didn't even know what was wrong with Barry. He always thought he was one of the best neighbors to live by, and that's saying a lot. Now, he is lying dead because he just went a bit mad, and it is all because of this woman. Who was she? Why is she here? And who the hell is she talking to? As the questions ran through his mind, he remember he had to keep quiet, or else he'll be seeing Barry real soon. But he also needed to get inside and call the police, so he needed to be careful as well. With beads of sweat dripping down his face, Reggie slowly crept from the fence and towards his back door, making sure that each step he takes was as low as possible. "Just a few more steps.." he thought as he maneuvered towards his goal, and just as he made it to the back porch, one of his steps were a bit loud and made a thud against the wood stair. He grimaced and turned back to the fence, hoping that the woman didn't hear him. He nervously waited, wondering if she is just idling, waiting to strike. After a few moments of silence, he finished climbing the stairs, slowly opening the back door and easing his way inside his house. He quietly sneaked over to his phone, dialed 911 and started to described what happened. After making the call, he rushed to his doors and locked both of them and headed into his room to hide. He has been having a hell of a day, and something tells him that it is not over yet......
Take your time terriblename, it's fine. And go ahead hzard. Also, I just want to ask how you all think the rp is going so far? If you have any questions or concerns, let me know. I want to make this rp an enjoyable one. :D
<Snipped quote by Melo>

Raymond swung his knife wildly at the scared woman, who was doing everything she could to keep him away. But Raymond wasn't having any of that, he wanted to please his new master. And the only way to please him is to give him what he wants, and that is chaos. And his master couldn't have picked a more will patsy than Raymond, a man in his early late twenties, hair unkempt, plaid shirt dirty and stain. Ripped jeans and discount store bought shoes. A glowing example of a man who doesn't give a damn about anything, or anyone. He hated the people in Mercer City, even more so, he hated the people in his apartment. Annoying kids, asshole teens and self-centered adults being disruptive of his time making art of his new master. Works of art drawn in pastels, with walls covered end to end in crude potraits of the silhouettes that demand him of his service. And when they gave him the task to bring about chaos to Mercer City and feed him, he couldn't say yes fast enough. He quickly grabbed a long serrated edge knife from his kitchen drawer and rushed out of his apartment to find, and now here he is. And he could not have found a better victim to begin his terrible work then Janet Finch. Janet was a 27 year old, who kept herself looking as neat and orderly as her pristine hair, which she coveted most of all. Though she is kind and respectful to those around her, she is vain and narcissistic on the inside, only caring about her looks and only playing nice just to get some attention and a few remarks about her looks. Now she is wishing to get any attention so that someone can save her from the crazy asshole from apartment A3.

"I've been waitin' to git my hands on you fo' a long time. HEHEHEHEHE"
"Get the fuck away from me you wacko!!"
"Nahhht a chance, girl. When I'm through with you, he is gonna be so pleased!!"
"Who the hell are you talking about!?"
"You don't have worry about that, not with what's about to happen next..."
"Oh god no, please!! Please don't do this!! I'll do anything, just don't kill me."
"Oh you'll do anything, huh? For lil' ol' me?"
"Ye-ss-s-ssss...just please don't kill me!!"
"Then I got one request, heh.."
"W-what...?"
"Hold still!"

"Noooo!!!"

Raymond leaped at Janet, who swung her gucci handbag at Raymond. The hit didn't even phase him, as he was running on adrenaline. He punched Janet to the ground, grabbed her head and slammed it into the hardwood floor. He sat down on her back, as he raised his right arm, his knife clutched in his hands, ready to bring it down onto this woman and begin his new life as a obedient servant to the one that will bring about a new age of chaos to his realm. And he couldn't be happier.


Home sweet home. Oh, how Ozias enjoyed his occasional day without lectures, or work for that matter. Today was a day he could simply enjoy with a good book and a refreshing cup of tea. The TV was on in the background, as there was no way he was missing anything that was on the news these days. The world had taken a turn for the weird, apparently. It didn't hurt to stay informed. In fact, it might save him a lot of hurt in the long run. He wasn't about to get his arse stabbed by the loonies that started to show up in the neighborhood. He'd like to see them try before they got a taste of his bullet-flavored salute. It was a waste of a bullet, such lowlife, but they might ruin his clothing otherwise!

Naturally, it hadn't gone unnoticed to Ozias that he was not alone in his room. His own shadow actually moved very little, less than him in fact. However, it was as if there was something on his shoulder. It was as if two little men were simply loitering there, yet he could neither see nor feel anything on his own. Weirder still, they seemed to be looking at him. Normal shadows had no eyes, but it somehow appeared to him like these had. They were beady and as black as their shady bodies themselves, hardly discernable, but there. It was as if these shadows, and his own for that matter, were a little more three dimensional than usual. It was imperative to him to ignore such impossibilities, lest he'd go loony like the rest of them.

Talking about loonies. He looked up from his book at he heard the distinct screaming of crazies. He lived in an apartment building on the third floor, but they were loud enough to be heard despite being on the ground floor. Oh geez, good ol' Ozias could never have a day off, could he?


Raymond swung his knife wildly at the scared woman, who was doing everything she could to keep him away. But Raymond wasn't having any of that, he wanted to please his new master. And the only way to please him is to give him what he wants, and that is chaos. And his master couldn't have picked a more will patsy than Raymond, a man in his early late twenties, hair unkempt, plaid shirt dirty and stain. Ripped jeans and discount store bought shoes. A glowing example of a man who doesn't give a damn about anything, or anyone. He hated the people in Mercer City, even more so, he hated the people in his apartment. Annoying kids, asshole teens and self-centered adults being disruptive of his time making art of his new master. Works of art drawn in pastels, with walls covered end to end in crude potraits of the silhouettes that demand him of his service. And when they gave him the task to bring about chaos to Mercer City and feed him, he couldn't say yes fast enough. He quickly grabbed a long serrated edge knife from his kitchen drawer and rushed out of his apartment to find, and now here he is. And he could not have found a better victim to begin his terrible work then Janet Finch. Janet was a 27 year old, who kept herself looking as neat and orderly as her pristine hair, which she coveted most of all. Though she is kind and respectful to those around her, she is vain and narcissistic on the inside, only caring about her looks and only playing nice just to get some attention and a few remarks about her looks. Now she is wishing to get any attention so that someone can save her from the crazy asshole from apartment A3.

"I've been waitin' to git my hands on you fo' a long time. HEHEHEHEHE"

"Get the fuck away from me you wacko!!"

"Nahhht a chance, girl. When I'm through with you, he is gonna be so pleased!!"

"Who the hell are you talking about!?"

"You don't have worry about that, not with what's about to happen next..."

"Oh god no, please!! Please don't do this!! I'll do anything, just don't kill me."

"Oh you'll do anything, huh? For lil' ol' me?"

"Ye-ss-s-ssss...just please don't kill me!!"

"Then I got one request, heh.."

"W-what...?"

"Hold still!"

"Noooo!!!"

Raymond leaped at Janet, who swung her gucci handbag at Raymond. The hit didn't even phase him, as he was running on adrenaline. He punched Janet to the ground, grabbed her head and slammed it into the hardwood floor. He sat down on her back, as he raised his right arm, his knife clutched in his hands, ready to bring it down onto this woman and begin his new life as a obedient servant to the one that will bring about a new age of chaos to his realm. And he couldn't be happier.
Jackal his behind a dumpster. his heart was racing but his eyes were wild and bore a wicked grin. In his palm was a handful of cash. "Where did he go?!" Yelled one thug, armed with a baseball bat. "In here!" Shouted another, darting into the dark alleyway with his knife drawn. Jackal snickered silently and waited. Footsteps raced, and at the right moment the first thug found his face bashed by a trashcan lid. Jackal, on the other end, lifted the lid and slammed it over his head, knocking him out.

The other thug tried to swing at him with a baseball bat, but jackal dodged. However he made an error, and slipped onto his back. The thug was about to bash him in, but he suddenly burst into flames. The thug screamed into the empty street trying to put himself out. Jackal could see a black shadowy dragon whisp to his side. He stared at the beast for a good while, the thug didnt say anything about this monster either. Jackal got up carefully, and started backing away. The dragon continued to follow him, not aggressively,however. It lingered near him like a gentle breeze. He would hold his hand out carefully to the beast, staring at its white empty eyes, and the dragon stared back, shrinking and morphing into a more serpentine form, then coiled up his arm and mounted onto his shoulder. Jackal was both suprised and confused by this apparition-like creature, and unsure of what to do with it. He looked at his surroundings, an empty alley al around him.

Where did you come from? he thought.


Quincy was walking down the sidewalk, his arms clutched at his sides, with his grip tightened like a vice. His eyes were dilated, bags hanging low under his eyelids and darting all around to the brick and mortar buildings of the old district of Mercer City. He couldn't stop looking as he has been on edge ever since the dreams started. The dreams where he is standing alone in a vast wasteland, void of trees, landscapes, or even people. Well, he would be alone, if not for the other two figures standing before him. He could only see their silhouettes, but he can feel that they are probably not ordinary people. And what is even more terrifying about these dreams is that the figures spoke to him, with a voice that would chill even the toughest of men to their very core.

"Tell them, I will rise again. And I will, its already beginning. I can my feel my power growing again, as the chaos feed me evermore. And you will tell them, because I will never stop reminding you of my coming ascension to the throne of the world once more. You will not escape my grasp, and your mind will succumb to me, its only a matter of time."

Then the dream always end with Quincy jolting awake in a cold sweat. And its been 2 days since he could get any sleep and he can feel it getting to him. And he knows that if he goes to sleep again, he will see them in his dreams, and it will get worse. Sudden;y, Quincy's train of thought is brought to a sudden stop when he sees a man rushing out into the street, covered head to toe in flames. He tensed up at the sight of the man rolling in the middle of the road, desperately trying to extinguish the flames and failing. He rushed behind the nearest building, pulled out his phone and called for medical services.

"Hello, I need an ambulance here immediately! There is a ma-oh god! He's on fire and rolling all over the street!!"

"Where are you, sir?" The response operator said.

"I'm near the corner of...Maple and Hemmmingsway. Please hurry, I don't think he will make it!!"

"Calm down sir, we will try to get a vehicle to your location, it will tough, but we'll try."

"Please tell them to hurry!!"

"Sir I wish I could, but we are a bit behind as we are getting more calls than we can answer."

"So, it might be a while...?"

"I certainly hope not, sir. What's your name?"
"Quincy, Quincy Weaver."

"Okay Quincy, what happened?"

"I don't know! I was walking down the street and I saw a man dart from an alleyway and into the street while he was on fire."

"You don't know how he got on fire?"
"No! No I don't!"

"Well Quincy, I just got word that the ambulance is approaching Maple and Hemmingsway and should be there soon."

"Oh my god, thank you! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, sir. And if anything else should come up, let us know."

"I will, thank you."

Quincy pressed the end button and put his phone just as the wail of a siren was heard in the air. A blue and white ambulance from the Mercer city hospital came screeching to a halt in front of the burning man as they put him out with fire extinguishers and proceed to tend to his injuries while others got the stretcher ready to take him back to the hospital. Quincy watched, hoping the man would make a speedy recovery, but he couldn't help shake the feeling that the figures from his dreams were talking about this. This is the chaos that they were talking about, and this might be their doing. But who were they? And why were they doing this? Quincy soon has questions running through his mind faster than a road runner. But all signs pointed to one thing: if he were to get the answers he need, he would have to take a snooze.
Okay, reading new posts in the IC. Will respond soon.
One, two, three, four, five, Rachel took a breath. She paused to question who invented 'this stupid shit', then continued her training. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve... She looked up.

And there it was again, staring at her. Rachel hesitated, laying down on the floor for her thirteenth push-up, and stared back at the thing in her doorway. She did something she never thought of doing before. "...So, where'd you come from?"

She continued her push-ups, training her body for her 'mission'. It was really hard, but that was to be expected. She hasn't really done anything physical in years, last time was when she played simplified baseball in the yard with her Dad. She counted to twenty, then took a break, her noodle arms getting tired. Slowly, she rummaged around the floor for a bottle of water, and rotated until her back was on the floor. As soon as she turned, the shadow-creature was right above her, staring, its head tilted like a dog.

Rachel laughed while opening the bottle and took a sip, lazily letting gravity do all the work. "You're gonna give me a heart attack one day, spooker.", she snarked at the shadow. "Are you some sort of shared hallucination? Are there weird drugs in the air or what? Is it terrorists? You're one hell of an enigma, spooks."

The thing was scary, but she knew it was harmless at this point. It formed shortly after the hospital visit, and it followed her around like a lost puppy. She had a sudden idea. "Heyyy, grab me... my phone?", she ordered, while pointing at her phone. Her phone was thrown onto the top of her bed, resting between two pillows. The apparition slowly moved its head towards the phone. Leisurely, it strolled over to Rachel's mattress, as Rachel herself was mildly shocked and analyzed its movements, this being the first time it moved in front of her.

"Y-you can move..?", the woman stuttered out, while bolting up with speed currently uncharacteristic of herself. Sitting on the carpet, she glared at the thing as it picked up her smartphone, then she stood up. She swiped for her phone, "Give me that!", and the Shade yielded it without fuss. She saw she had a text message. Her 'friend', Carol, sent an update about a 'shipment' that just got delivered, with a discount.

She replied with a thanks and told her 'the usual drop-point' was fine, a hidden box in a specific alleyway of the city. Rachel was very private about where she lived and careful with who she told the location of her housing. Currently, nobody knew where she lived, aside from her parents, who were on the other side of the country. The drop point was also very particular and hidden, a metal container neatly tucked underneath a damaged, but functioning lamp post.

She turned her phone off and looked at the Shade. "Now, clean my fridge.". The shade looked confused. Rachel rolled her eyes and walked to her kitchen, and pointed at her fridge. "Fridge. Clean it out.", she then pointed to all of her cabinets. "Cabinets.", she touched her nose and contemplated. "Organize...alphabetically."

The Shade looked at Rachel, yet without any eyes. Even without pupils, Rachel could tell if they were there, they'd be full of realization, then defeat. It looked back to the fridge, and slumped over in shame, as it began to walk to do its duty. "Now, I'm gonna handle some business, alert me if anything happens."

Rachel went back to her bedroom and grabbed her purse, filled with neatly organized credit cards, her phone, a butterfly knife, pepper spray, and two shots of 'candy'. For emergencies, obviously. She hid her purse 'underneath' her hoodie, and set out to the local bars. Drunks are talkative, and she needs info.


The local watering hole, The Singing Sailor, was the usual spot for the rabble of the city. Misfits, bikers, beard enthusiasts, outcasts, and just plain drunks, you'll probably find them here. Doesn't mean its all bad though. The beer is good, not only that, the menu they served there wasn't half bad neither. Also the bartender, Joey, was pretty hospitable to the usual patrons of his establishment. And he would hear the craziest stories from them. And now with all this dark energy business, the stories just keep coming. In fact, one of his regulars, Gregory, was telling him a story of a guy who was swinging a butchers knife in the street.

"I'm telling ya, Joey. Something about that blast messed up a lot of people." Gregory said as he finished his beer and set it on a coaster. "He was one of the most harmless people you could find here, and they had to drag him away to a mental home. A real shame, that one." Joey was just finishing cleaning a glass and placing it with the others. "Maybe something personal in his life happened and he couldn't take it? I don't know, and honestly, we probably won't know for a long time. What I do know is that the blast was not a cause." Joey was never a big believer of the supernatural or anything out of the ordinary. For a bartender, he was pretty rational. He had to be to even serve most of the clientele here. "But go back to what you were telling me about. The thing about the shadow people. Shadow monsters? What was it?" Joey asked with a raised eyebrow. Gregory sighed as he pushed the now empty mug to the side. "I told you already, Joey. They are callin' 'em Shades." "Shades?" Joey asked. "Yeah, it started with one guy seeing his shadow move over him like a shade and the name caught on after that." Gregory said as he motioned for Joey to pour him another pint. Joey grabbed Gregory's mugged, placed it underneath the nozzle and began to dispense some beer while continuing the conversation. "And these shades are like people's shadows or something?" Joey pondered to Gregory. "Yeah, they be like the shadows of what they are on the inside." Gregory said, eyeing his glass on the liquid slowly rose to the top. "The inside? Like their body or something?" Joey said as he stopped the nozzle as the drink just filled to the top. Joey swiped off the foam and gave the mug to Gregory, who was more than happy to take it. Gregory chug some of the cold liquid before resuming. "No, what they are like on the inside. The damn thing is supposed to be you, who you really are." Joey was confused. How can a shadow show your true self? And how can a shadow come to life? And how can a harmless 24 year old go bonkers with a butcher knife? And how did everything go wrong? Before he could ask Gregory to continue explaining, the front entrance opened up.

The Beginning of it All


The day itself seemed to be going rather well for the twins, it was nice, almost peaceful at the start… maybe a little too peaceful for Lilith’s liking. She normally enjoyed a bit of chaos in her mornings, though she was fully aware her brother, Uriel, had a lot less want in his mornings when it came to such a thing. At the present time, the two were on their way to work, something they both shared a hatred for considering their boss was a bit of a prick.

”Honestly? I can’t wait until we finish our college courses and can work towards setting up our own business… this guy has a stick shoved so far up his ass even I want to beat the shit out of him… and you know I hate violence,” the male grumbled as he pushed slender fingers through platinum blonde hair. As he had showered only minutes before their walk, the passage of his fingers caused a bit of his hair to stick on end, not that he seemed to really care about that in the least.

”I could take care of him for you if you really wanted,” came his sister’s rather calm reply, a small yawn even leaving her, ”I’ve got a pretty enough face and a good enough reputation that no one would ever expect me.” She flashed her brother a smile, one that was a cross between crazy and happy. She was rather easy to please when it came down to it, but at the same time she really wanted to strangle the guy.

Just as the two were about to walk into the building, Uriel’s hand came out and wrapped his fingers around his sister’s bicep. ”Lilith, your shadow moved,” he said, glancing behind her for a moment, ”And before you decide to act like a smartass and say it does that when you move, no… it moved separate of you.”

Lilith simply rolled her eyes and pulled her arm free from her brother’s hold without so much as a word. Instead, she glanced at her shadow before pushing open the door to the office building, ready for another long and boring day in an office working on a story for a magazine she absolutely hated. While she worked on her story about the string of robberies that had been happening throughout a few neighborhoods. Uriel, on the other hand, was working on a story about the capture of man who had raped 5 women in the local area. She was so tired of having to write about such things, and while some of the stories and information she gathered was absolutely fascinating to her, she found herself bored with the fact that she couldn’t actually see such things.

It was during their work day that the twins noticed an odd feeling, almost as if they were being watched, and neither could shake it no matter where they went. At one point, Lilith went to the restroom to see if the person who was watching her would follow her, only she was alone with the same feeling as before. What the hell is going on? she wondered as she looked around, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the latrine, still coming up empty handed.

Shooting a text to her brother, she ended up getting a response from him that mirrored her own. Neither one of them had been able to lure out who the hell was watching them, but she had a feeling she would be able to find out soon. I’m going to find you you little shit, and when I do I’m going to beat the ever loving hell out of you for watching me.

Leaving the latrine, she went back to her desk and tried her best to relax and get her work done, only to feel far more paranoid as the day went on. Chewing on her bottom lip, she glanced over at her brother, who was absently scratching at his arm, something he did when he was worried. It was at that time that she noticed his shadow on the wall looked far less like him for a split second, so quickly in fact that she would think she had been seeing things. What the hell was going on?


Suddenly, a voice roared that gotten the attention of the sister and brother. It was him, their boss. Mr Hopkins always felt that he was a big shot, even though he never really measured up to his employees, considering he was 5' 7". But that didn't matter, because he was in charge of one of the most successful local magazines in the business, Life Weekly Magazine. After inheriting the business from his grandfather, he wanted to make sure he would live up to his legacy...his way. Not only that, but he cuts the checks for all of his employees, so in the end, he was a big shot. A big shot to them, and his only way to make money. And boy, was there money to be made right now. The whole town just went sideways because of that dark energy and now crazies are popping up all over the place. And this is now the perfect opportunity to write some interesting articles. Especially the story about the man that raped those women, that would definitely sell issues. People love some shock and awe, no matter what they say. Hopkins thought and wondered who was writing the story and realized it was Uriel who was writing the story. So he quickly walked over to Uriel's desk just to see how things were going.

As he reached his desk, he opened his mouth...and barked. "URIEL!! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU STARING AT!? THE WALL?! ITS NOT THAT INTERESTING!! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT'S INTERESTING?! PSYCHOS! AND THERE IS LOADS OF THEM RUNNING AROUND HERE NOW, AND I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU TO WRITE ABOUT ONE! SO WHERE IS IT, EH?!?" So, as most would guess, Hopkins isn't well versed in social skills, or keeping his voice down at all. But how else was he going to get respect around here, play nice? No one likes nice anymore, you gotta be assertive. That is what his father would say, and it would seem that Hopkins took that too much to heart. So now anytime he was talking about the business, his voice would go above an octave. So if anyone were to be working for him, much less talking to him, well you better have some earplugs handy. But a lower voice wouldn't help with Hopkins outer appearance, considering his hair was nothing but a bald spot and a poor attempt at a combover. Also his main attire consisted of suspenders, a white shirt, with exposed belly button present and a pair of gray slacks. He was a short, loud and poorly clothed man who wanted respect in his place of business, and so far its been working about as well as most expect.
Tzar watched the silver cruz pull up to the curb, he counted 7 seconds and the cook stepped out, just like he always does. He locked the car and pulled the door twice to check if it were locked, he would do the same for the store front door. The cook walked to the store front door and pulled twice as expected. Leaving it locked he walked around to the ally only 5 of his strides away and headed down the ally for about 8 paces, turns and hits the lock button on he keyfob for his car to triple check that it is locked then continues toward the service door. Tzar tugged on his hood and dabbed the face paint to make sure his camouflage was set. He watched the cook walk right up to the door and punch in the key to unlock it, 22479, He waited for the cook to open and close the door.

Tzar quickly sprung out of his stakeout and punched in the code and eased the door open as he peaked in. The cook was starting up the grills taking a total of 19 seconds average on each grill. That gave him a little over a minute to get what he needed, plenty of time. Tzar slung his duffel bag off his shoulder and started raiding the pantry for bread, canned food, milk, and packaged meat. He got as much as he could carry and quietly opened the door and closed it softly. "Hey Tzar! Runner told me you were on a big mission! I wanted to come help! I brought my own bag and everything!" said the young teenage looking boy as he called out to Tzar. "Lambo! Shut the hell up! We are going home. Now. I already got some stuff. Now move! We only have about another 30 seconds to clear this ally before the guy who I stole this from comes out here looking for it! Tzar said pushing the boy along, trying to hurry him in the direction they needed to go to get away.

Once they cleared the ally Tzar rubbed as much of the face paint away and put his hood down to expose his short dark brown hair and to help not look suspicious, however he never raised his head. Lambo walked with him the whole way to the hideout talking constantly about how Tzar should take him on his next scavenge. As Tzar reached the seemingly empty, lopsided apartment with only most of the roof he turned to Lambo "Lambo, you have to be quiet to go with me on a scavenge, besides that Daisy needs the supervision right now and Runner is busy getting some new clothes for all of us because you know we all need it, So go ask daisy if you can help her out some, and get her a bottle of water." Tzar said as he unlocked the door and muscled it open. "Yes sir." Lambo replied as he entered their makeshift home. Tzar took the food to the cellar storage and started unpacking all the food.


Meanwhile back in the kitchen, the cook, Mr. Dupree returned to the pantry to retrieve some ingredients for a dish he is preparing and notices that some of his stock is missing. Loaves of bread, cartons of milk, and a few pounds of packaged meat as well as canned good are all gone. He quickly calculates the the total amount of missing product and realizes he is now out of 100 dollars of product. Though most would think this is a small upset and could be easily replaced, the same could not be said for Mr. Dupree. He made sure everything was in place, that no item was misplaced or missing. And when that happened, he couldn't let it go, for it would haunt him for the rest of the day, maybe a week. Or even a month of worrying about a few items of food missing.

As soon as he snapped back to his senses, Mr. Dupree began to sweat. First a couple drops that ran down his forehead and the left side of his face. Then, more beads of sweat formed on his face, followed by deep, heavy breaths. "It's happening again....no." He stammered out as he looked downed to see his hands shaking like crazy, almost as if they were vibrating. Now, when it was said that any small thing would haunt him, it was really a condition he was diagnosed with since he was young. Now, most people would just describe it as obsessive compulsive disorder, but Dupree's case was something much more severe. If one thing was not in order or missing, he would start with heavy sweating and heaving. And then, it would end in unsettled anger. He would try to keep his composure and it would end in swiping everything around to keep him calm, which would end with his room in a new arrangement. He would even change his living room and his own parent's room. And now, Dupree realizes what he needs to do. He quickly changes the positions of the bread, the milk, canned goods and the meat. He hands were like lightning, quickly changing the food around. His eyes never blinked during this task, because he had to stay focused on the food and not what wasn't there, and he never stopped until the last can was placed with the others. With his work completed, he exhaled a long and relieved sigh, and shifted his gaze to the right...and he thought he saw a shadowy figure fade away into nothing. He looked around and figured he was seeing things, and so realizing he need to make the main special today, he grabbed his ingredients, closed the pantry and headed back into the kitchen to prepare the dish. But he couldn't shake the feeling, the feeling that something wasn't right.
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