Post by Madara Uchiha on Jun 4, 2011 20:13:53 GMT -5
I am writing this story a beautiful lie, the setting of it takes place in the future after a great resource war has torn the world apart. The solution being a mass amount of oil being found and dug at Antarctica, a businessman with robotic guards managing to start up his own country by selling the oil. A veteran from the war tells his story in a set of therapy sessions. I need to know what you think of it so far, and the kinds of interesting psychopathic issues these people may have that he meets.
A buetiful Lie
By Raymond Kemp
Chapter One
Illsuion is Bliss
Illusion its so wonderful is it not? These days people need illusions with a great war going on. The facts and truth about reality scares those to the point where survival is impossible. However I find it kinda funny how Illusions are our dark pleague within our hearts. Yet here I am about to go into a group therapy designed to free illusions so that I may learn illusions, and set my soul free.
I am a dark man, I am a cacasion and yet I have dark skin. Not black, but a tan color that kinda looks as if I am all covered up in dirt. Tall and Muscular after all ver government lacky needs muscle even though all they do is pull a few triggers. Black hair as dark as night, infact darker than night its more like a darkhole forever consuming light. And yet I have light blue eyes, my mothers eyes.
You know I have always hated these yes, after all they only reminded me of everything I lost. A man could not look into them and feel crushed by emotion, only to be countered with an emotionless face. Scares on my face and body showed that this body was that of a devil, a killer, nothing more than a monster. Yet these eyes were that of an angle. Something that brought light into a place were no light shined.
I guess the truth would be layed down by my actions, not my looks. As I flew on my leather jacket, and wearing nothing more than common street cloths I headed out to what would be my future. I lived in a city, or whats left of it. They use to call it New York, but crime has spred, and humanity has fled until the point were people called it Las Tierras Diablo. This which meant The Devil Lands. Its was spanish, because of the over whelming mexicans that had invaded it, or so thats what I think.
As I walked the streets of the fallen New York city in an unnamed avinue to far down on the food chain to even have a name. I kept my head down, not to avoid trouble, not a lack of confidence, but the hatred of my eyes. They were like a fine crafted dimiond and all light reflected of of them. It was not who I was, so I hated it. It was not who I was, was it? I looked around me, and riots were everywhere. People stealing things, fires spreading out of defience, an old lady beating a kid to see who gets that last Klondike Bar.
Las Tierras Diablo, I though to myself as I walked. What a fitting name for a place where all those who have lost it all go. A fitting name, for a unfitting place on this godforsaken world. A fitting place for me, and what I have done. In about an hour I saw the brick building called, The Iron Hope. A place trying to free people from their illusions. Usually bad ones, but every know and then you have a holy night come who can no longer take the stress of his restraints. However for me, it was a place to restore hope. Unlike everyone else though I need A Bueatiful Lie.
A buetiful Lie
By Raymond Kemp
Chapter One
Illsuion is Bliss
Illusion its so wonderful is it not? These days people need illusions with a great war going on. The facts and truth about reality scares those to the point where survival is impossible. However I find it kinda funny how Illusions are our dark pleague within our hearts. Yet here I am about to go into a group therapy designed to free illusions so that I may learn illusions, and set my soul free.
I am a dark man, I am a cacasion and yet I have dark skin. Not black, but a tan color that kinda looks as if I am all covered up in dirt. Tall and Muscular after all ver government lacky needs muscle even though all they do is pull a few triggers. Black hair as dark as night, infact darker than night its more like a darkhole forever consuming light. And yet I have light blue eyes, my mothers eyes.
You know I have always hated these yes, after all they only reminded me of everything I lost. A man could not look into them and feel crushed by emotion, only to be countered with an emotionless face. Scares on my face and body showed that this body was that of a devil, a killer, nothing more than a monster. Yet these eyes were that of an angle. Something that brought light into a place were no light shined.
I guess the truth would be layed down by my actions, not my looks. As I flew on my leather jacket, and wearing nothing more than common street cloths I headed out to what would be my future. I lived in a city, or whats left of it. They use to call it New York, but crime has spred, and humanity has fled until the point were people called it Las Tierras Diablo. This which meant The Devil Lands. Its was spanish, because of the over whelming mexicans that had invaded it, or so thats what I think.
As I walked the streets of the fallen New York city in an unnamed avinue to far down on the food chain to even have a name. I kept my head down, not to avoid trouble, not a lack of confidence, but the hatred of my eyes. They were like a fine crafted dimiond and all light reflected of of them. It was not who I was, so I hated it. It was not who I was, was it? I looked around me, and riots were everywhere. People stealing things, fires spreading out of defience, an old lady beating a kid to see who gets that last Klondike Bar.
Las Tierras Diablo, I though to myself as I walked. What a fitting name for a place where all those who have lost it all go. A fitting name, for a unfitting place on this godforsaken world. A fitting place for me, and what I have done. In about an hour I saw the brick building called, The Iron Hope. A place trying to free people from their illusions. Usually bad ones, but every know and then you have a holy night come who can no longer take the stress of his restraints. However for me, it was a place to restore hope. Unlike everyone else though I need A Bueatiful Lie.