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Is this still going?

Its taken me five years to literally find this place again but I have. I dropped off of CAH because a very close friend died.

If this is still going I'd throw up a CS.
Okay so, uh I suck. I'll try and get a post up today, I've got like a dozen posts I have to make across the net and one site I admin on now.
And there's Eli's first villain.


Meatpacking District, Manhattan, New York, New York.

For months they had planned this, thought it out, retrieved ingredients and artifacts.

Michael had gone out and picked up a girl in a bar, and Kevin had bought live chickens and a large pet spider. A red kneed tarantula specifically. Sarah had drawn out the sigil of the dark prince they wished to call on the floor, something as good as a name. For their purposes even better. Dressed ceremonially in their long, taupe colored robes, the hoods pulled up over their heads. None of this mentioned in the ritual text, but they felt it added authenticity to their little satanic cult. In reality the eighteen of them were only desperate, down on their luck, vulnerable and looking for a place to belong. Except for Derrick, he had been the one to bring them together. Though he was far from an Anton LaVey he was the most 'authentic' of their group. So he stood at the foot of the girl as she lay unconscious in the middle of the sigil, curves and angled and straight lines laid out to represent the spirit they would call. Holding the long kitchen knife one hand, Derrick lifted it over his head, chanting out in Latin.

"Attenrobendum eos, ad consiendrum, ad ligandum eos, potiter et solvendum, et ad, congregontum eos, 'coram me." The baritone of his voice echoes through the building, down the halls, into rooms. The windows nearest him vibrate and the power of the words themselves sink into the sigil, energizing it.

The booming chant was enough to rouse the intended victim from her slumber. Awaking to her hands and her ankles tied together, a gag tied around her head and stuffed in her mouth. That was when she started kicking and screaming.

Some of the cloaked figures standing around the circle became anxious. They were normal people, some had 9-5 jobs, they were in this for the wealth and for the fame. Not one of them had killed anyone before. Michael, Sarah, Evey and Derrick were the only ones who seemed to remain untouched by it all. This had not been his first time, he was accustomed to this. To the killing, the summoning, he'd attended his fair share over the last hundred years.

One of them, Franco, began to mutter one o the infernal prayers they'd been taught. When that failed to calm his nerves his thumbs twiddle nervously and he opened his mouth. "Can we do something to shut her up? Please?" His pleading earned him an elbow to the ribs. Lucas was the one to get him to join, albeit reluctantly at first. And then the promise of power and women did away with the reluctance, until tonight.

"Just cram it, man." Lucas had brought his school friend into the group, hoping that it would garner him favor and put him somewhere higher in the cult. Franco couldn't make him look bad now.

Derrick went on, their glorious leader, the words repeated over and over. When the cue was given Michael bashed the chicken against the floor inside the circle, its blood splattered across the ground and on the girl. A moment later, the girl had her gag removed and the Tarantula forced into her mouth and down her throat before the cloth was replaced. The spider panicked, it bit and struggled and the girl screamed and choked. Finally after one last line Derrick drove the blade into her heart. And in an instant the body stilled. There was no heart beat, no screams.The spider had even already died in her throat. The cult around her stood perfectly still. It seemed an eternity as they waited patiently. It felt like hours, days perhaps passed before anything moved.

And then it did. She stood up, as if lifted up on wires the girl levitated, like a marionette on strings. Joints lifted, the rest dangled before her head snapped up and the spider flew from her maw, followed by an intake of air. Her eyes jaundiced, wide, wild, unpredictable. One might thing she an escaped patient of an asylum. The cult was in awe, now they would have all the power they wanted, the fame, the money. They wouldn't be the over looked under appreciated any longer. Snapping her broken jaw into place the creƤture inhabiting the girl's body looked around at the little congregation around it before grinning wickedly.

"Howdy, howdy, lads and lasses, would anyone care to lend me their glasses?" He/she did not have any kind of impaired vision, but it did want to hide the sick eyes that it manifested in the host body. Derrick was quick to hold out a pair, stashed in his robes as he expected such a request. Again, not his first rodeo. Taking a step forward the demon took the glasses slipping them on. "Derick the cleric. Called me up from the pit, are there words or rhymes you wish to spit?" The leader of the cult nodded silently. The demon motioned for him to go one.

"We called you from hell so that you might pass judgement and cast damnation over this city." Practiced lines, words he'd said before to others.

"And just where is this winner's chicken dinner?" It asked after slipping on the sunglasses, looking about at the others and taking a wif of the air.

"The frightened one twiddle his thumbs." A chill went down Franco's spine, Lucas' as well. Had he condemned Franky by pushing him to join? He immediately started twiddling his own thumbs nervously. It stalked towards them, watching them both. First it set its hands on Franco's shoulders softly, stroking out the wrinkles in the fabric, lowering the hood and patting his cheek with a twisted closed mouth smile.

"Frrrrranco, right?" Its voice was the sound cancer made if cancer had a voice.

Franco nodded.
"I'm not going chew on you," Patting the scared man on the shoulder, the cult member relaxed. "But your friend I'm going to end."

No one had a chance to react as fingers came up through Lucas' belly, and into his chest as he was disemboweled where he stood. Blood came up and poured from his mouth before he fell to the floor. The beast fell on the corpse and began feeding, Franco ran, Derrick stood unphased with some of the more experienced members while the others shocked, appalled and disturbed.

When it finished, the girl's body straightened up, wiped the blood from its mouth with the back of its hand and looked around. Cronies with weak stomachs were what he saw. "I've got to clean up, or should I tell all I'm covered in catsup?"

Quickly shown to a place to clean up, the knife removed from between the two ribs, dressed in new clothes. Put in a car Derrick instructed Sarah to take the demon to central park for further feeding.

"Lord Vetis prefers children." were his last words to her. A simple lie. He preferred women and followers. The thing would feed on her and then he would find his brother and make his life a living hell.
I've been out of town for 4 days I'm gonna get a post up in the next few days

"Mr Stoker, thank you, we'll be in touch." Those were the death words to your chances of getting a job. They wouldn't be in touch, he'd already been passed over for this one. It seemed everyone did that to him.

"I'll be glad to hear it." He smiled, but he was lying. He'd bet against hell itself that he wouldn't even be mentioned when they were making he decision process. As many times as that happened, you'd think he was purposefully sabotaging these things. Thing is he had no reason to do that. These were favors pulled by hiss mother, his best friend, other people who he wouldn't spit on by screwing up legitimate attempts to help him. And it seemed as though while Elijah tried to find a job that the rest of the world was going down the crapper. Or maybe that was just his world. Each interview he had been to looking for something to keep himself afloat was a failure. He had maybe 3 left and then he was out of ideas and his friends and family were out of IOUs.

The nightmares weren't any fun either. They had started after his black out in the alley. They were always of the same violent, brutal and grisly incident. He recognized the victims as the thugs from the alley and the place it happened as the alley. The news reports of a bloody mess of gore only made it worse and weirder. He couldn't have done that. Hell, he could have hardly taken one of them in a fight, let alone tear 5 of them a part. And how had he found his way home after the black out anyway? It was a question he dreaded asking out of fear for the answer was something out of a horror movie or Stephen King novel. He probably should go see a psychiatrist, someone to help him sort through all this weirdness, but he doesn't have the money for that. He had to get himself a job first. So his problems all seemed connected.

Leaving the building he loosened his collar, tore the tie from around his neck and shoved it in his pocket. What was he going to do? He didn't have any ideas. As he walked down the street, he merged in with the crowd, its New York City, the sides of every street always seem choked like an artery clogged with cholesterol. He bumped into someone who reeked of B.O. just rank with it. As he pushed past, nearly stepping on a small dog he thought to himself how there is nothing on God's Green Earth that should smell so foul. Putting distance between himself and that crowd, Elijah's head began to swim. He put his hand to his brown and tried shaking it off. What a freak sudden dizzy spell. Was his blood pressure hitting the floor?

As he stepped onto the street it began to fade, just as a car came down the way, Stoker an unseen obstacle as the driver was too busy cursing his wife out on the phone. Elijah didn't see him either through the haze, it was the makings of an accident that would be paper and prime time worthy news.
Then it all stopped.

Everything froze around them. Them, the man in the car, Elijah and someone new. He wore a fine tailored suit the color of the darkest night that you've ever seen. His face was pale and gaunt yet lively. His hand stretched out and touching the hood of the car. Inside the vehicle the driver seemed to have just noticed the person in the street, his eyes bugged out feet on the brakes and arms locked on the steering wheel. He would have been too late if not for this fantastical and mysterious stranger's intervention. Even Elijah's head had stopped spinning, like it was never there, not even a fizz.

Eli was in total shock, his heart pounded in his ears and he wanted to run but his legs just wouldn't work, not one step worth of function could be pulled from them despite all the desire that he had to get away from the stranger. He didn't seem to mind, his hand still held before the car. A bird overhead was frozen mid flap, a scattered little flock of pigeons coming off a rooftop in the distance. Not a single thing moved. The world, save for Elijah and this man in black, had been paused.

"Your brother was having a nasty go at you. You have a lunch date with your mother and her friend to attend." The way he talked to Elijah was like he had known him his whole life. Like some kind of uncle for family friend but he had never seen this man before. With a face like death he would have remembered seeing him. "I'll be seeing you later. The restaurant is that way." As he spoke he pointed a long bony finger in the direction the younger man should go.

It baffled him, he stepped backwards, he wanted to get across the street before everything unfroze. The Man In Black however decided to stay where he was, watching the only thing that moved. "Don't be late, that'd be rude." And then he vanished into thin air, seconds later, life returned to the world.
I suck so much, I said I'd be getting a post up son but was draggd into other stuff. I swear the net Inferno posts comes in a couple of days.
So like I had a ton of crap happen recently hence my absence, I'll be getting back in the game here soon


Elijah was to be in need of some kind of brain...thing, bleach, scrub, something. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to go back into that apartment. He got the worst kind of shivers thinking about it. He was going to go to Mitch's, he had cable and silent neighbors. Not to mention there was a cold six pack in the fridge. He put one in before leaving and usually cracked it open after he got home from work. Eli was sure his best friend wouldn't mind if he had one. He'd just have one, that would be enough. After the beer he could go back to job hunting. He hated the job hunting, it was a long arduous process that had no assurance of success. He hated the uncertainty in that. He wanted, needed stable, certain things. He didn't do well without structure or form to lean on. He didn't need a job so much for money, but for sanity. His savings could carry him for a bit, that was something he had been good at, putting side money for a rainy day. He hadn't applied for unemployment, he wanted to make it on his own, as dumb of a decision as that may turn out to be.

He was almost there when he heard the scrape of loose gravel on asphalt and then was jerked into the alley on his right. One need not be psychic in any way to know that this wasn't a good way for his day to go.

"Cough up your wallet, man."

Elijah's head hit the brick wall behind him, that pain and the fuzzy picture his retinas were sending his brain let him know he wasn't kidding, and this guy meant business. And as his vision cleared, so did his 5 friends. A string of swears passed through his mind. Not a word came out of his mouth as his eyes wired shut, fingers fumbled for his wallet as he tried to keep his cool. The knife brandished by the apparent lead in this little band caught just enough sunlight to reflect it into his eye, he needed to squint, and then his blood turned hot and his eyes closed.

When he opened them he was home. Not Mitch's, or his mother's. His head hurt, and his nightmare bothered him. It was too real, there was blood,and guts,and gore.The thug from the alley and his friends, torn apart by something that wasn't human. Elijah would describe it like Bran Stark seeing through his Dire wolf's eyes on Game of Thrones (Mitch is to blame for that too, he was a fan and talked Elijah into watching it.) He was seeing it, he was doing it, but it was as if he were seeing through someone else eyes. A bad dream, a really bad dream.

He rolled out of bed at the knocking on his door, his head was killing him, as if someone were driving a stake through his skull repeatedly.
After coming to the door, he almost looked out the peep hole that wasn't there. He sure felt smart for that. The banging came again, this time accompanied by a voice, and it was one Eli knew well.

"Eli, man open up." If he banged that meaty fist of his on the door one more time Elijah was gonna kill him.

"Stop beating the damn door, Mitch," he groaned as he undid the lock on the door. He had yet to notice the lack of noise coming from his upstairs neighbors, but it was a good thing they had stopped whatever they were doing. Stoker was not in the mood now. Taking a step back as he opened the door for his buddy he did not even try to hide the tired look on his face.

"Well you look like sunshine and roses." He must have come by here right after work, he was still wearing his scrubs. Stoker found himself a place to sit, moving crap out of the way so Darwin could do the same.

"Happens when someone interrupts my beauty sleep," Elijah quipped. "You not been home?"

"Got a call from your mom to come check on you."

Now he remembered the fiasco that was his try to get a quiet place to sleep and maybe a hot meal at the cost of dil. "I'm fine. Scarred for life but I'm fine."

"Did you catch her with her boyfriend or something?" The glare Eli did more than tell him just how right he was, and he's smart enough to not push it. "So what you wanna do?"

"I don't know, what do you wanna do?"

"what we gonna do?"

"Now don't start that again." It'd been a thing since they were kids, exchanging those lines from the Jungle Book originally said by the vultures. It was just a dorky thing that they did. "But really, what you gonna do?" Elijah shrugged, he didn't have any job interviews lined up, he honestly hadn't tried for a day or two. He just wanted a break.

"I could try pulling a few strings, see if I could get you something."

"Back at the hospital? They kind of already fired me." Elijah was skeptical that they would hire him back, even in a position he would be more qualified for.

"I've got connections that you ain't even heard of, man." Stoker nodded to his friend, he'd take the help he could get.
That would be beyond sweet, dude. I suck at doing them myself
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