Avatar of Varshanka

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1 mo ago
Current Somewhere between Heaven and Hell

Bio

So if you've made it this far you have an interest in me and my writing.

I'm human, unfortunately.
I prefer cats and dogs over humans. They just don't start drama. Well cats do, but that's just being a cat.
If I had a choice, I'd be dead. But I've tried that, and it didn't work out.

I write on several forum groups under a couple different names.

I will never give my Real Name, my Gender and opinions on that will not be revealed.
I've never cared what anyone I write with is. As long as you write in English and well it doesn't matter.

Although there are times when I wish an Alien/Angel/Demon/mutant/Werewolf/Vampire would come to my house and say "We need to talk"

Yes, I've died. Like full on CPR resurrection dead. God kicked me out.

Most Recent Posts

Would Hermoine be allowed?
Who's turn is it?
Who's turn is it?
1918
Brooklyn, New York
“Kalan” & ‘George – Knight of the Veil’

Running down the street and alley’s of Brooklyn Kalen was doing his damnedest to escape the Knight chasing him. The Damned bastard had a blessed blade and knew how to use it as well.

A dozen cuts and he couldn’t heal! Grabbing a coach ride by jumping on the runner board. That son of a whore was gonna kill him if he didn’t get him off the trail soon, and he had a DAMNED HORSE!!!

He heard the explosion and the punch in his back. Punch? It felt like he’d been hit by a burning cannon! The second blow knocked him from his stolen carriage ride.

Stumbling Kalen ran for his life, blasting the door to a residence from it’s hinges with speed and strength no human could muster. Running through the house he went through a kitchen window and rolled across the yard before he was up and running again.

Left, right, left and left straight and yes.. there..

Keys jingled in his hand he felt a third explosion take his right him, bone and wood from the door spreading across the carpet and white washed walls.

Falling to the floor he started laughing. Yes. Fuck yes!

And then a shadow crossed over him from a gas lamp in the street. “You failed asshole! You can’t get me now!”

Stepping forwards the Knight stopped at the threshold, something was off. Reaching out the dark haired giant slid his fingers along the invisible barrier. “Exlain this, demon…” The man said as his fingers slid across nothingness.

“Awe, the Knight’s an idiot?” Jalen mocked. “It’s a Temple asshole!”

“This is no temple!” The Knight known as George declared.

“Wrong! We rip babies from their mothers bodies and sell them to rich folks that want them. Well, sometimes we sell them. Sometimes they just get eaten. Or sacrificed. The Sanctuary is in the basement. The walls were inscribed with prayers to HIM before they were painted. The framework is made using the runes of olde. This is a Temple… to H.I.M.!”

“HIM? This is no Holy Place dedicated to His Infinite Majesty, you misbegotten demon!”

“No You stupid blind, ignorant inbred fuck!.” Kalan corrected bursting out laughing with a few giggles thrown in as well. “H.I.M.! His INFERNAL Majesty!!”

“Grinding his teeth ‘George’ began to reload as The Demon’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t come in here!! “

“I don’t need to,” ‘George’ said rather calmly as he fired from outside the building. Right Knee. Left Knee. Right Shoulder. Right Hip. Left Hip, Left Shoulder. Each shot was burning fire in the Demon’s skin.

And then he heard the shot that that didn’t make his skin and bones burn. Instead the shot blew apart a gas lamp in the hallway. A second and third lamp.

He could smell the gas filling the hallways as he lay there. Fucking Knights. They all should burn in the Halls of Hubris. The Seventh Level. Close to the Dark Lords swollen shaft and unholy farts.

Reaching into a pocket George pulled out a box of fire sticks he used for the lamps at work, or the fireplace at home.

Using his thumb he snapped hard and fast, lighting the matchstick with practiced ease and with a soft laugh ‘George’ tossed the match and watched as the hallway detonated, filling with fire before the building burned to the ground. It took hours, the demon was blamed. Careless, smoking, a gas lamp snuffed by a gust of wind.

Afterwards, ‘George’ read in the papers about the Planned Parenthood, the second in the nation and the founder. The picture in the paper was the demon in human skin. A demon had started a company that murdered babies….
heard
1923 – Chicago
Ezekiel “Eazy" / "‘Zeke” Corbett – Treasury Department
Knight of the Veil

“Hey ‘Zeke, you seen the new tomato in the typing pool? Smoking hot with a nice set of curves on her.” Samuel commented looking across the way at the girls as they walked in for the morning shift.

“I have observed the ladies of which you speak rather crudely.” Ezekiel replied. “You know I find it offensive, why do you speak that way of them? You should have more respect, what if someone spoke of your own mother this way?”

“I’d smack him in the kisser!” Sam replied. “Then I’s kick him in the jingle berries until he never had kids of his own.”

“So, you would show violence against a man that spoke that way, but you yourself speak that way. Do you not see the wrongness of that?”

“You sure talk weird, ‘Zeke. And what kind of Name is Ezekial anyway? Your father a preacher man or something?”

“Yes, my father was a religious leader of his community, until he died.” Ezekiel replied standing to his full height at the desk. Looking down at Sammy he raised an eyebrow and flexed his knuckles. The nonverbal warning was enough for Sammy. The older and shorter man grumbled about people being ‘over sensitive’ as he scurried away between the desks.

Twenty minutes later Ezekiel was on patrol, he’d passed the Equestrianism tests so he was allowed to ride a horse. And he’d provided his own so the city gave the animal room and board. People were starting to move towards automobiles and perambulation machines so finding horses that could tolerate the noise and jerking motions of the twice cursed machines was a god send.

Ezekiel was unmarried and had no living relatives so everyone was trying to get him with someone foxy and swinging. Even if ‘Zeke was a stiff upper lip.

With a metal shield covering his lower left leg from the knee downwards, he had a Colt 1911 on his right leg within easy slapping distance, and a rifle behind the shield. He also had a few knives and brass knuckles for the less polite encounters he had.

He didn’t do partners, and the few times he had they hadn’t lasted. Not with the number of times he got shot at. He’ already been the target of a hit with a ‘Chicago typewriter’. Three weeks Jim Colosimo got whacked in the alley next to his business when Zeke had gunned him down and ripped the demon from his still twitching corpse. No one saw what happened and no one ever got charged, not even an innocent patsy, which had been rare as shit.

He’d gone on the take from Capone, giving the man some insider wisdom and keepin’ him slightly safer, and in exchange ‘Zeke got money and when certain people/demons go whacked, they got cement overshoes. As long as he didn’t go after Capone or his people, Capone was thrilled. The mobster figured Ezekiel was a hitter for another faction. And it was a win/win for both.

The raid hit the Brothel at nine pm, Ezekiel walking in and taking a seat and a drink at eight-thirty a girl was on his lap ten minutes after, and by the time the rest of the Agents hit the front doors he knew who was inside the building, and where they were at. They even had men stationed in the sewers and the buildings next door and across the street.

Thirty-Five prostitutes, several gangsters, a bunch of stupid business men in the wrong place at the wrong time. Twenty kegs of Coffin Varnish, a dozen cases of gigglejuice. Several judges and attorney’s, a couple of coppers on the take, and enough Tommy Guns to arm the Treasury Department in Chicago without making them spend their own lettuce.

After that hit Ezekiel took a bonus and added it to his stash. He’d even met a girl in Chicago that made him consider a life, until a heist and drive by between Capone and one of his rivals ended it.

After Capone was brought down he slipped away through the Order of the Veil and found a new station, and life, in Europe.
Allana Lang Kent

In process of reading her schedule and seeing what she’d need to get altered or moved Allana dropped the paperwork when someone ran into her from behind. Stupid fuck probably had his eyes glued on a telephone screen.

Grunting in surprise as their papers dropped with hers, she crouched, laying her books on the ground as she started collecting papers and sorting through who’s was who’s.

“Sea Lion? Dolphin? Whale?” Allana snapped. “What were you in your previous life, since you obviously never learned to walk before.”

“That one’s mine,” she said shoving several papers at him and grabbing one from him. She was more irritated than angry. She was going to be late, didn’t know where the first class was, needed to get her schedule changed and now had to resort all the paperwork and hope she wasn’t missing anything.

“After you learn walking try to learn to look where you’re walking.” God she was being a bitch…. Again. “Look I’m sure you’re a nice asshole, but I have to get my schedule changed, and I’m going to be late for my first class because you ran into me.”

Pulling out the map she looked at it and then at buildings around them. “I should be able to get there, as long as you don’t trip me… again.”

Grabbing her books and papers, most were here some were his but then he had some of hers as well. Taking off at a run she headed for her class, Gym. First thing in the fucking morning? What a shit class.

****
Heading to the office after gym, and a second shower of the day, Allana stood in line to get her class schedule shifted. And if the administration didn’t see eye to eye with her she’d kill them all.
sorry i've been working all day I can delete and hold for your replies?
Alaina: Nephilim

God Damn the fat fuck wouldn’t shut up. Screaming in her head like a damned banshee on helium. High pitched and whiney as fuck.

“Quite yer fucking whining you fat fuck!” Alaina yelled. “He didn’t do shit that you should fire him for, just cause I barfed all over your god damn illegal ledgers? Then quit laundering money for ‘Tiny’ Malone.”

“Fuck you’re a loud son-of-a-bitch!” She wanted to cry it hurt so bad. “I won’t tell about anything else,” she said leaning close to his face and finishing as she screamed in his ear. “If your just SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!”

“Fuck! Gimme the Jack Black from the bottom right drawer.” waving her hand expectantly she slammed her head into the cheap steel desk… Hard. She was crying before hand. And a little less afterwards. Was the ?pain? dulling her ?pain? What the fuck kinds shit was happening here.

Then she Grabbed Randall head and screamed in his face. “I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

She jerked, blood running from her nose as Randall had a seizure and went stiff as a cock on new magazine day. When his eyes rolled up in his head and blood started running from his ears and nose, Alaina sagged and leaned back against the couch, her hand resting in a pool of vomit (hers) and alcohol (his).

“Fuck that’s nice…..” She sighed closing her eyes as the quiet. No it wasn’t dead silent, but it was a lot quieter for whatever reasons the ghosts and demons had finally stopped screaming in her Head and were just a blur for the moment.
Michael de Shade - Knight of the Veil

“What the fuck type a’ cop threatens to blast a hole though innocent citizens?” Randall shouted back. “Motherfuckers breaking into my store. Threatenin’ to shoot me?”

“We are totally coming out. And completely unarmed!” Kyle said. “I-I’m opening the door. Please don’t shoot me!” Kyle tried again. “Good morning, Sir. Officer.” Kyle swallowed and tried the word again. “Officer.”

“You know trespassing is a crime.” Randall spoke from behind Kyle. “Copper or not. You need a warrant to be in my shop if you are tryin’ to dig around here.” The store owner had also taken up a sort of stance before the woman, just as Kyle had done. “Let me see some kind of badge.”


“When in pursuit of a felon, in this case an individual that committed murder in the alley of a security guard while committing armed robbery. I am allowed to enter without a warrant. If you want to argue that against my Captain and a judge go for it. As for my Badge it’s on my chest. I’m not digging for shit, but If I see anything that looks illegal, like the two of you attempting to hide a rape victim, or one of your buyers, I most certainly will be delighted to detain all of you while Narcotics, Vice, and RICO search the shit out of this place.”

“And the Fourth Amendment pertains to your House, your, Car, and yourself. Not to a Business.”

“Now if your buyer dies of an overdose I’ll happily add aiding and abetting, Interference, murder, attempted murder, Resistance and anything else me, my boss, and the wino on the corner would like to add.”

“Now I chanced an individual to the door, they are removed,” And fuck if he was saying the demon fucking Teleported away. “However they may have had an accomplice. Now I saw you running from him and dragging the girl. Is that her pimp or dealer? Do you work for him? I would suggest you explain quickly.”

Setting the Riot shield on the floor he leaned it against his leg as he then reached up and grabbed his belt radio, not the one on his shoulder. “Base I got two potential Heaven’s Gate. I need a pickup and a Hospital on the 911. I’m also gonna need a Warrant, for Vice, Narco, and RICO at Saucy’s Pizzarie. Specifically for Pimping/Prostitution and a Heroin Overdose in the back Office. Owner is giving my grief for hot pursuit, possible connection to the Alley Murder this time today. Sir Michael out.”

He wasn’t about to explain the different radio’s, nobody ever noticed anyways.

“Now, Anybody else here? EMT’s are on the way for her, and I seriously hope anything she says matches what you two are about to tell me.”
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