The third tale (mission)

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The third tale (mission)

Post by Guest on Wed Mar 11, 2015 10:27 am

The Master wrote:Mission Name: Prison story 3
Mission Rank: Amatuer
Location: The sea of storms
Description: Time to hash out a third tale of murder and sin with the only people you can trust. Tell the tale of the woman who ran away.
Requirements: Tell the story/Catch the woman and kill her.
Player Count: 1
Reward: 100k rupees, 75xp
Word Count: 1200, one post.
Mission Boss: N/A

Thomas wished he could run here.

The simple joy of being free to walk or run where he pleased. You never miss that feeling until it is gone. Until you are forced to squat down with your hands bound with tight shackles that connected to the wall. Shackles that with a flip of a switch could tighten, and with the flip of a safety release switch could rend the arms from his very body. Their mechanisms were hidden from his view by either darkness or clever placement. The guards had constantly threatened him with getting his arms ripped off if he tried to fight them. Well it was a necessary threat, he had beaten more guards and prisoners to a bloody pulp the he could count on three hands, and he did not want to stop.

A guards came by with a key and as soon as the locks were undone the chains would fly into the side of the wall and retract, and Thomas would utter a breath of release and rub the wrists on the permanent markings that he had on them. Usually he would be thinking about how he wanted to rip the staffs arms off and beat them with their own limbs, but now he was just crying out mentally for some fricken lotion! Just a little to soothe the skin. Lotion was something that you could get here, at a price. Something is always in demand. Weather it's beating, or threatening, or collecting a small debt. While he was not a criminal before he came here Thomas would be one of the most hardened when he came out.

They picked him up by his shoulders and practically dragged him a third of the way before an older fatter guard got tired and dropped him right on his face. He pushed himself off the ground and when they tried to grab him again he shook them off, for he had to much pride not to walk alone no matter how much his body cried out with abuse. Someone tried to grab him again but he shook him off, turned around, and power punched him right in the nose. The cartalidge broke at every single opertunety it could find at the guards face was covered in blood. He was the same prick that stabbed him in the back thirty six times a day whenever he needed to be moved.

The guards knew it was hopeless to call for help, these underground passages went on for miles in miles in many different directions. The two others drew batons and moved in to beat him up. Dispite years and years of torture like restraint Tom was still fit as hell. He ran up a wall ten solid feet into the air then leapt up even higher, turned around and raised his specially developed fist. He picked a slow fat guard that regularly beat him even when he was not ordered to and lunged into his chest. With so much momentum his eagle strike would have certainly killed him if he had his weapons. Instead his fingers raked against his chest bruising his skin to the point where parts of it would turn black and fall off in hours. He followed up with a leopard combination and felt the mans ribs satisfyingly crack.

He turned around and saw his friend reach for his spear off the ground. He did a horizontal wall run to close the distance rapidly then he power punched him right in the head knocking him out and causing a bit of blood to form a pool on the ground from a crack in his skull. He smiled at his handiwork and stepped over the blood puddle before making his way to the meeting. He was going to get in some deep trouble because of this but he would grin and bare whatever came towards him. He slapped the gate's lever causing it to slam shut as he slipped under it inside.

He sat in his cold comfortable chair and listened to everyone talk for a few minutes. They were hashing out story's about their job's. "Yeah, my dad really pressured me to join the army. I left to join right after my day of birth when I was of age. I made it through training by stubbornness alone but quickly found the soldiers life was not for me. Your crappy comrades would throw buckets of freezing water on you to wake you up in the morning, and while every other soldier in the entire army seemed to be hired purly to be a thorn in the side of everyone they crossed, if you reply to someone sourly one time they will ask to see your captain and you'l be sentenced to a whipping of thirty lashes. I did not take kindly to such workplace violence so I cut his head off with my short sword and fought my way out of the camp into desertion. Oh, hey Tom."

Everyone got quiet and got to where they could hear him. For he was not even halfway done to telling the tale of how he ended up here. Once again, he sighed deeply and for a moment listened to the rain gently hit the walls outside in the silence. Then he spoke. "It was storing just as bad that night as it storms every day here. I got called in again not three days after I was told to kill the last man. He really was not worried about notoriety."

"He told me this chick was about to replace the first man I killed's job. So to keep that from happening he dispatched me to kill her. She lived above a restaurant in the nicer part of town. I asked down below where her apartment was then I went upstairs and knocked on her door with the steel of my power glove. She looked through a wide glass peephole and I could see her eyes go wide when she saw a guard. She slid a book case right against the door, jumped out a window and ran. I power punched the door open and my eye's narrowed in on her."

"I jumped out after her and ran along the wall of a nearby bakery before jumping on a roof that she was on. Damn girl was a parkour artist. Here I am running on the sides of walls as she's doing back flips and jumping building to building. We jumped around town like a bunch of jackasses before I finally started meaningfully gaining on her. She got desperate and tried more daring jumps once she found out I was looking to kill her. She stumbled on the edge of a building and fell into an alleyway. I had so much blood churning rage I ran up a story on a tall building to her left, leapt up into the air and using a claw strike I flew down to her with so much momentum that when I hit her the air was filled with dust. She was dead as crap. I wiped my claws off on her now broken dead body and stumbled out of the ally. Killing was easier by number three, when you know you wont get caught.

Many men nodded with him.
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Re: The third tale (mission)

Post by Saria on Wed Mar 11, 2015 2:31 pm

Approved, and locked! Rewards shall be awarded soon!

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"Oh, you're leaving... I always knew that one day, this day would come. I've always known we're so different, and I'm not sad, because you have a lot ahead of you. I want you to take this. Don't forget me."~Saria
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