A dry wind flows over the arid landscape, carrying with it the faint sound of carnival music. Perhaps his life was actually meant for this. He had been a clown entertainer for so many years but it has never quite felt... so right. At least not like this moment. He shuts off the channel that the old tube was turned to that had been playing carnival and kids tunes. The air was now silent. He smiled, and not just the painted smile he had on his face that was sloppily melting from sweat and the natural oils of his face. Today was a good day where he was free!
Around the man, large robotic creatures began to encircle him as he stood over what was his audience. Friends, loved ones, and even his son lay among them. Stabbed to death. His make up, their blood and bodily fluids, and his grin.
That grin was of a man posessed, the machine had told him, nay, screamed at him. This is what he needed to do. For days and days he resisted that call but his mental threshold could only go so far.
So he decided to start a party. He was an entertainer afterall, smearing the blood of old, rotten corpses that had fell to their base defenses, he starts the party. Nobody had noticed until it was too late.
With screams and gunfire, he cut them down like a madman, his face renewed with each corpse he left laying on the ground. That permanent bloodied smile with twisted music had never failed this party.
Injured badly, he felt the malicious screaming in his head finally stop. He looked down and saw many wounds and bruises on his body. A silent scream as a scythe from one of the machines took his neck.
This is pretty dark... :o
Quote from: Wex on July 08, 2016, 02:15:17 AM
This is pretty dark... :o
I wear my sunglasses at night when I write.
YOU MONSTER!
I like this. Its maniacal. More.