Tournament of Red Lions: Round Two - Page 4

Erdawn Il Deus · 07-21-2005, 03:24 PM

The words echoed, and the furred thing stiffened.

"Already? I have yet begun to make you suffer, inchling." The furs shuddered again - vibrating and bristling in rippling waves up and down the pelted mass, like movement seen under the fast-forward button of a tv VCR. He seemed to grow outside the parameters of his frame, swelling, shrinking, and then finally the abstract and unnatural shiver stopped, leaving only a penetrating drone that slowly escalated in volume.

"More meat for the table," he said, but his voice seemed... muffled. Strangled. Sol brought his broken face and head up to stare at the overlooking witch, who stared down at him with hollow-socketed eyes.

He's grinning, the dead man thought, blood stining his eyes. He's-

Suddenly, the furs opened up. That droning became all and nothing, a sound to drown all others, and from every nook and cranny and opening in the robe of baboon pelts poured droning insectile swarms of bees - mutated and hideous, bleached white as if albino, from bumble to wasp and hornet, to mud wasp, to african brown killer bees, billions of vibrating wings and legs and they swallowed Sol underneath a cloud of blurring, humming death.

He thought he felt the stings. And then he felt nothing at all. And across the jungle the witch-man laughed and laughed...

OoC: Yeah, crappy, but I have no other time to write this. I need a PC.

07-21-2005, 03:24 PM	#61
Erdawn Il Deus Senior Member Join Date: May 2003 Location: Threading the jeweled thrones of earth under my sandalled feet Gender: Posts: 2,985 Thanks: 4 Thanked 45 Times in 39 Posts Points: 22,967.27 Bank: 757.83 Total Points: 23,725.10 Donate	The words echoed, and the furred thing stiffened. "Already? I have yet begun to make you suffer, inchling." The furs shuddered again - vibrating and bristling in rippling waves up and down the pelted mass, like movement seen under the fast-forward button of a tv VCR. He seemed to grow outside the parameters of his frame, swelling, shrinking, and then finally the abstract and unnatural shiver stopped, leaving only a penetrating drone that slowly escalated in volume. "More meat for the table," he said, but his voice seemed... muffled. Strangled. Sol brought his broken face and head up to stare at the overlooking witch, who stared down at him with hollow-socketed eyes. He's grinning, the dead man thought, blood stining his eyes. He's- Suddenly, the furs opened up. That droning became all and nothing, a sound to drown all others, and from every nook and cranny and opening in the robe of baboon pelts poured droning insectile swarms of bees - mutated and hideous, bleached white as if albino, from bumble to wasp and hornet, to mud wasp, to african brown killer bees, billions of vibrating wings and legs and they swallowed Sol underneath a cloud of blurring, humming death. He thought he felt the stings. And then he felt nothing at all. And across the jungle the witch-man laughed and laughed... OoC: Yeah, crappy, but I have no other time to write this. I need a PC.