A young man stumbles out of the small local bar in Kokomo, Indiana. He looks out at the cold winter night of December 15, 1944. He begins to walk home, but soon loses his way in the almost pitch black of night. It’s the New Moon, and so he has not even the moonlight to guide him. He soon hears running around him, maybe people, maybe something else. Whatever it was, he, now terrified, now begins to run in a full sprint. Whatever it was, it was now chasing him. He sees a small wooden shack ahead, and now, he hears the gut wrenching hissing behind him.
What in the hell is it? He wonders.
Out of shear fear, and without thinking, he pulls wide the door of the shack and slams it behind him, catching the glimpse of a pale human face, with red eyes. It also had something in its mouth. Was it… sharp teeth? But that doesn’t matter; the creature is now pounding on the door.
Click. Click.
The man slowly turns his head, still pressing firmly against the door. He now sees an older man with a white beard, holding a hammer shotgun, and aiming it at him.
Just my luck The young man thinks to himself.
“Move aside son.” The old man says.
The young man moves away from the door, and it is burst open. It reveals a man, tall, pale skin, and red eyes. He appears to have sharp teeth, and dawns odd, otherworldly dark clothing. The creature hisses, then the old man pulls both triggers on the shotgun, firing off both barrels, and instantly killing the creature. The old man looks to the young man.
“Now keep quiet. I’ll be right back.” The old says, as he picks up the body, and goes outside, shutting the door behind him.
WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL IS GOING ON?! WHAT WAS THAT?! The young man yells to himself in his head.
The old man soon comes back, with blood on his hands, the shotgun being held in his right one. The old man sits down at a dining table, and sets the shotgun down. He picks up a stripper clip for a 1903 Springfield rifle, and begins to place rounds on it. The young man stands up, shaky legged, and walks over to the old man.
“What the fuck was that?!” The young man yelled.
The old man remained silent, placing the fourth round on the clip. Then he spoke.
“A Vampire”
“A Vampire?! What?!”
“The darkness hides many things from us. Tricks us even, making us paranoid, and then causes us to lie to ourselves, so that we go on with our lives. But the darkness does not hide everything. The darkness only hides, what you choose not to see. Care to join me?” The old man says, placing the fifth round on the clip.
1. No God-modding, you can't just do anything, you're still limited by the physical world.
2. No meta-gaming, you can't materialize an army out of thin air.
3. My word is law, my co-ops word is law as well.
4. One liners are okay, but don't let it fill the entire. An occasional one liner is okay, but only in the case of this RP dying will I allow frequent one liners in a last attempt to get some momentum going.
5. No flamebaiting or trolling, keep it out of the thread.
6. Please, for the love of all the is holy, have decent grammar.
Co-ops:
Morlodania
New Cinoth
Slafstopia
I have also noticed something. The large number of RPs that die, are do to people's forgetfulness to check their current RPs, and by the time they come back, it's dead. So. From now on:
WE WILL TG YOU WHEN YOU HAVE BEEN RESPONDED TO SO THAT WE CAN TRY TO AVOID THIS RP'S DEATH AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!
IC IS NOW UP!!! IC
