Pyro_Storm
New member
yep so a story, hehe an attempt to see what people think about it, ok heres the first chapter.
Forsaken One:
A hard stone look cast over his features. A look of pure hatred and unforgiving disgust. The house in shambles, alone in his own fixed world where his family was still alive, in which everyone still held on to their dreams. People now surrendered too easily without a fight. The cross bow rested on his thigh, his power unbalanced and unchecked.
Sirens screeched and let out a ghostly yell. Subconsciously he doubted everything he fought for. This place could barley be labeled as fit for a person to live. A place of constant darkness, pain and despair left a lingering appearance in this place. The dark sky masked any light from breaking in. The constant darkness loomed everywhere.
His appearance stood out from the rest. Black spiked hair, his eyes, now never shown to anyone, hidden behind dark black sun glasses. Broad , muscular shoulders, arm equally strong and well built muscle. A black tank top covered his well toned chest, tracing his built abs. Black cargo pants hugged his waist. Jet blue Nikes covered his feet. His hands were covered by black leather gloves.
He slung the silver and black cross bow over his shoulder and stood up. Surveying the scene he clenched his jaw and made a vow to kill who ever had done this. A picture in what was once the parlor was lightly burning and turning into ash.
He walked over to the memory of the picture. A small boy not much older than 5 stood in his suit awaiting the arrival of father. A small smile could be spotted on his young face. Setting the picture down he saw a glare of something metal.
Walking over to where the door once stood, crouching down he spotted what had caught his eye, a small sliver plated badge with a name on it. Dust covered and nearly broken he ran his thumb over it. The name could have easily just been that, meaningless and nothing special. The name which was covered was that of his, he dropped it back to the ash covered ground. The name he hated: Rogue.
thank you for reading, opinions are needed.
~Pyro
Forsaken One:
A hard stone look cast over his features. A look of pure hatred and unforgiving disgust. The house in shambles, alone in his own fixed world where his family was still alive, in which everyone still held on to their dreams. People now surrendered too easily without a fight. The cross bow rested on his thigh, his power unbalanced and unchecked.
Sirens screeched and let out a ghostly yell. Subconsciously he doubted everything he fought for. This place could barley be labeled as fit for a person to live. A place of constant darkness, pain and despair left a lingering appearance in this place. The dark sky masked any light from breaking in. The constant darkness loomed everywhere.
His appearance stood out from the rest. Black spiked hair, his eyes, now never shown to anyone, hidden behind dark black sun glasses. Broad , muscular shoulders, arm equally strong and well built muscle. A black tank top covered his well toned chest, tracing his built abs. Black cargo pants hugged his waist. Jet blue Nikes covered his feet. His hands were covered by black leather gloves.
He slung the silver and black cross bow over his shoulder and stood up. Surveying the scene he clenched his jaw and made a vow to kill who ever had done this. A picture in what was once the parlor was lightly burning and turning into ash.
He walked over to the memory of the picture. A small boy not much older than 5 stood in his suit awaiting the arrival of father. A small smile could be spotted on his young face. Setting the picture down he saw a glare of something metal.
Walking over to where the door once stood, crouching down he spotted what had caught his eye, a small sliver plated badge with a name on it. Dust covered and nearly broken he ran his thumb over it. The name could have easily just been that, meaningless and nothing special. The name which was covered was that of his, he dropped it back to the ash covered ground. The name he hated: Rogue.
thank you for reading, opinions are needed.
~Pyro
