Rage against...

[dragonmegaXX]

This is just the beginning of an idea I had today for a story. I wrote it while on the school bus and for 30 minutes during one period.

This is to show that I actually do have some sort of creativity going on inside my mind.

It's not too long yet, so hopefully I wont get any TL; DR's :3

I do love comments, likes/dislikes, reviews, critiques, etc.

So lemme have it. Thanks.

Yes the characters are anthros, but there's no sex so get over it.

Ill post more here if the reception is good.





“What’s your number?”

“5192.”

“Arm please.” I held out my arm without any emotion as the receptionist inserted a large needle and withdrew a sizeable blood sample. It was obvious she had been doing this job for a long time, the female husky’s paws moving efficiently and flawlessly as she deposited the sample into a vial and placed it into a large metallic cabinet under her desk.

“How can you live with yourself, knowing that everyone you send to him never returns?” I asked her in a stony, deep voice.

The blue furred canine looked at me with what almost looked like a slight frown.

“In misery.”

We were standing in a small ‘waiting room’. The air was as dead and stagnant as the black souls of those who ran this place. Visually, the interior resembled a clinic, white tiles covering the floors, and a drab, neutral paste of a wallpaper surrounding us on all sides. The main difference separating this institution and a clinic was that lives weren’t protected here. They were destroyed, mutilated, warped, and forsaken.

A bell rang at the small wooden desk where the small husky sat, and our gazes locked once again. For a few moments, time seemed to stand still, and I almost felt suffocated by sheer anger, mixed with a touch of terror.

“You can enter now…” She said to me, looking away afterwards.

“Someday, you’re all going to die, and I hope I live to see that day.” I walked to a heavy, silver metal door and opened it before taking one last breath of freedom. One last breath of life, before walking into the next room, the door shutting with a large series of locks ensuring the door remains sealed until the next sacrifice is called forth.

“I hope I see that day too.” The husky returned to the paperwork on her desk and tried to forget what was in story for the newest victim in the Lord’s twisted game.
________________________________________________________
Bio signs detected.
Species: Gray wolf, 26 years old

Height/Weight: 6’0”, 195 pounds

Eye color: Dark brown

Diseases: None

Surviving family to notify: None

Additional Notes: Individual has a fair amount of muscle tone and strength related abilities. Individual has been incarcerated previously for the following crimes: Aggression towards soldiers of the Lord, failure to pay respects to the Lord when demanded, several other minor crimes related to insubordination.

Threat level: 80%
I was standing on a blue lit up circular platform in an otherwise pitch black room. I had no sense of how large the room was, if anyone was in it besides me. In front of me was a holographic screen that displayed all of the personal information about my life. I smiled, proud of every last one of the “crimes” I had committed. They were accomplishments. However, the terrible prison I had spent much of my life in was sure to be nothing compared to what laid before me.

Ever since the Varka clan invaded our land, they held everyone in constant fear. Our technologically superior buildings and structures have been crumbling since their leader, a vicious dragon who knows nothing but battle and blood, took over. People were allowed to live their lives like normal, however, there were so many new laws, so much brutal law enforcement, and such a stark hatred burning within the heart of every person that the proud people of Valencia have degraded into a disgusting mess of violence and disdain.

I had tried my best to be different. I lived on the furthest outskirts of the city. Away from the once kind towns people, and away from the majority of the demented Varka compounds. I had lived in peace with my little brother in a small house for the 5 years that they have ruled. He was 18, and I was 23 and he was just as angry about the corruption happening as I was. We looked after each other; our parents were killed almost instantly during the slaughter that occurred during the takeover. We both saw our parent’s blood spilling from their bodies as they were slain with no reason… We only escaped because we had hidden in thick bushes near our home, and managed to sneak through the battle to a nearby forested area.

We were rebels without any means to fight back. We had no money, no influence, no power. We were trying to create an underground force that would hopefully overthrow the wicked forces that now ruled. I had left one day while my brother was sleeping to try to gain allies, and when I returned home, my eternal vow for revenge was birthed… Blood, blood everywhere. On the walls… on the floor… My brother, laying in his bed, stabbed repeatedly throughout his body. The screams of vengeance that followed could be heard throughout the entire town. I ran throughout the town, every soldier of the Varka I saw met their end, my claws stained in the deep red of their insides. It took over an hour for enough of their forces to subdue me, and by then over a dozen soldiers had fallen. It was at that point that I was put on trial before the mass of people. It was hard to tell if any of the creatures had once been my friends, for now everyone looked impoverished and angry. It was at that point that I was chosen as this years sacrifice.

Every year the leader of the Varkas, the dragon simply called “Lord Varka”, demands that one sacrifice be made to him, as a peace offering.

As if there was any peace at this point…

That’s how I ended up here now. No one knows what happens to the sacrifices made to the dragon. None of them are ever seen again to ask. Over the years though several rumors arose. Some say that the dragon sadistically tears apart the pour soul and paints himself in the blood. Others say that the sacrifice is worked to death as a laboring slave, surviving just long enough for the next sacrifice to be made before perishing of exhaustion.

These thoughts were running through my mind along with bitter hatred as I stood on this luminescent blue platform. A knot formed in my stomach as my fists clenched, desperately wanting to kill those responsible for ruining the lives of everyone around me. Suddenly a loud metallic click sounded, and the blue platform began to descend. I stood quiet and brooding while the pitch black room left me. Ever so slowly, I traveled lower and lower until the circle made a stop into a new room.

Thankfully the new environment was lit up. The first thing I noticed was how deathly quiet everything was. I couldn’t even hear my own breathing… If I was still breathing at all. Nothing seemed absolute anymore. The walls were lit with torches spaced apart, revealing that the walls were made of solid gold. ‘A small chunk of this wall would be able to feed the entire city for years…’ I thought.

[rushyrulz]

Originally Posted by dragonmegaXX

It's not too long yet, so hopefully I wont get any TL; DR's :3

TL;DR

[dragonmegaXX]

You're cool.
I actually tried on this so I don't see the point of being a ****** like this is the garbage bin.

Sigh ._.

[Coolboyrulez0]

stopped reading at "female husky paws"

don't even wanna know where this goes

[dragonmegaXX]

It's not sexual you ****ing idiot.

[Coolboyrulez0]

looks like someone yanked your tail all wrong

relax

[UserNameGoesHere]

Technical edits:
'pour' should be 'poor'.

Perhaps provide some backstory or explanation as to why these beings exist as they do. Why are they anthros? Were they always that way or was there something that changed them to be that way? Why does the receptionist, presumably of the same species as the protagonist, follow along with the enemy orders? Why do the others?

To be honest I only clicked because I was thinking "Rage Against the Machine" but I was like "Why is this in Literature instead of Music?" I can see how many people would TL;DR this -- it's pretty long-ish for Internet forum.

Is the story purely fictional or does it have deeper symbolic meaning either of your life in particular or perhaps a wider political meaning or message? For example, does the dragon represent someone in particular or some government or agency/etc? Do the various species represent various types of people? Is this a "call to action" for the American people in some fashion? Or is it purely fictional and no symbolism at all?

[dragonmegaXX]

Originally Posted by UserNameGoesHere

Technical edits:
'pour' should be 'poor'.

Perhaps provide some backstory or explanation as to why these beings exist as they do. Why are they anthros? Were they always that way or was there something that changed them to be that way? Why does the receptionist, presumably of the same species as the protagonist, follow along with the enemy orders? Why do the others?

To be honest I only clicked because I was thinking "Rage Against the Machine" but I was like "Why is this in Literature instead of Music?" I can see how many people would TL;DR this -- it's pretty long-ish for Internet forum.

Is the story purely fictional or does it have deeper symbolic meaning either of your life in particular or perhaps a wider political meaning or message? For example, does the dragon represent someone in particular or some government or agency/etc? Do the various species represent various types of people? Is this a "call to action" for the American people in some fashion? Or is it purely fictional and no symbolism at all?

For the most part it's fiction, but in some ways it represents what I believe happens when you take a pure and wholesome society and introduce war and evil. If it's strong enough it breaks down the will of the majority until they become just as savage as those who originally took over.

All that good stuff.

[andy-o24]

Originally Posted by dragonmegaXX

story for the newest victim in the Lord’s twisted game.

in store*

I see this story going a few ways:
1) You get lazy, just kill him in the room.
2) He's employed by the Lord to be an assassin-type character, seeing as though he slaughtered the military presence and it took many of them to bring him in. He is a controlled inferno.
3) Same as 2, but he instead leads a rebellion against the Lord with a small group of other warriors.
4) Similar to 3, he goes to a nation to kill the leader, joins their side and they overthrow the Lord.

Lord would suggest some sort of biblical allusions. Maybe 5192 will end up a Christ figure. Maybe the waiting room/elevator room is a life/death parallel and he's descending into Hell.

You can play with a lot of symbolism here if you wanted to, but from a purely fictional/entertainment standpoint, you should just keep writing what you want. Have fun with the story. If you like the idea, run with it.

-o24

[dragonmegaXX]

Yeah I saw a lot of potential for symbolism and all that good stuff. I wrote a fair amount more I just don't feel like posting it here anymore since it doesn't seem like the right place anymore.

[tofurox]

tl;dr but I'm sure it's good.

[nois-or-e]

If you host a thread and people are trolling, there are means to report these posts instead of lashing out at other them. Perhaps this piece of literature would be best shared through a Random Thought and re-attempted in the forum at a later date when you can compose yourself a bit better.

//locked