Creative Writing Coursework : Armageddon

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Creative Writing Coursework : Armageddon

The room was dim. The stone walls were damp and cold. In fact, the entire place was damp, the floor and the ceiling; the place was a dump. The smell of damp, urine and excrement was present, there was another smell lingering too, an unusual smell. It was the sickly stench of dried blood. In the room five men were seated around a large table, glaring at each other.

Brandon Cole walked through the darkness. After finishing work he had decided to take the short route home. Brandon wrapped his arms around him. It was cold. The sound of Brandon's footsteps echoed through the narrow road. Brandon could see nothing - it was pitch black, he squinted to try and see through the darkness. Brandon continued walking down the stone road, he felt something squelch beneath his feet, he muttered irritably to himself and grabbed his lighter from his pocket. He flicked the lid back and the lighter burst in to light, like a tiny explosion. The small flame did hardly anything to improve Brandon's vision against the darkness. Brandon bent down placing the lighter by his foot, squinting again. The smell hit him and Brandon recoiled quickly, the smell invaded his nostrils and for a fleeting second Brandon thought he was going to vomit. He spoke out loud 'Bloody dogs, crapping everywhere' he placed his foot down on the floor and began scraping it, wiping away the filth. Brandon stopped and pulled a cigarette from his pocket pushing it between his lips. He lit it and inhaled deeply, he left it a second then breathed out a long stream of silvery blue smoke. Brandon began walking again, he turned a corner and heard a small noise behind him, and Brandon spun around quickly. Probably that flaming dog, he thought. As Brandon turned back he saw the figure standing before him, saw it lunge forward, felt it bite his neck. Brandon tried to shout for help but his throat felt constricted. Brandon swallowed hard and felt the teeth sink deeper into his neck. Brandon looked up and saw a shooting star. Make a wish. He blacked out.

The five men in the room eyed each other silently. The room was deathly silent. Each of the men was dressed in black suits, their faces pale. A tall man sitting at the head of the table finally broke the silence 'How is the training programme coming along?' he asked, his thick Russian accent was extremely noticeable. Silence. The Russian man lowered his head and sighed. The silence seemed almost palpable. A deafening roar and then a huge thud on the table finally broke the silence. The Russian man glared around the room, silence enveloped over the room once again. An American man sat on the side of the table began to speak 'Sir, the training plan is failing abysmally. We apologise.' The American man held the Russian man's gaze for a few seconds. The American man knew the Russian man as Boran Yelstof. He was 27 years old, his hair was jet black and his eyes were a very pale grey colour. In the darkness of the room Boran could barely be seen. From the shadows Boran

Finally said 'What about the other club?' The American man smiled 'Sir, that plan is going well. In fact it's happening right next door now.' He said these words slowly and confidently. Boran smiled bearing gleaming white teeth; they seemed to penetrate the darkness of the room. Boran stood up 'Take me to the club. Now!' The American man rose quickly and stumbled backwards. He turned and walked quickly to the door. It was almost time.

Brandon woke up he felt a searing pain in his neck and placed his fingers on the wound. He hissed in pain as he touched it. He could taste his own blood in his mouth, it was congealed and some of it was dry. Brandon spat the pain in his neck intensified as the large mucoid spittle that was mixed with blood exited his mouth and landed on the floor. Brandon placed a hand on his aching head and spat again. He massaged the bridge of his nose. He ran his tongue across his teeth to get the worst of the blood off them, Brandon felt a sharp pain on his tongue and felt blood begin to trickle from it. He placed his finger in his mouth to see what had caused the accident. His eyes opened with horror as he felt two sharp fang teeth. He shut his eyes and want filled his mind. Want for only one thing. Human blood.

The room was dull green in colour, on the floor lay cardboard mats selotape held them down. Water could be seen leaking through the walls and the odour of damp was clearly present in the room. Boran looked around. Men were stood around the cardboard mats, cheering mindlessly. In the circle two men were fighting, the sound of blood splattering on the floor could be heard above the cheering. The sound of clenched fists smashing against bone could be easily heard. Boran smiled. Boran walked into the middle of the circle. The cheering stopped suddenly. Boran smiled, kicked off his shoes and took his tie off. He pointed to a stocky man from the crowd. Boran studied him carefully; the half-light made it difficult to see. From what he could see Boran saw the man had blonde hair; he had grey eyes and looked pretty strong. Boran pointed at the man at motioned for him to come into the circle. The man walked slowly and cautiously into the centre of the circle and stood opposite Boran. Boran raised his fists ready to fight. The blonde man clicked his fingers and raised his own fists. A whistle sounded and the fight began. Without hesitation Boran forced his fist down as hard as he could on to the blonde man's nose, the snap of bone filled the room. The blonde man stumbled back; blood erupted from his broken nose. Boran looked at his hand, blood was dripping from it, Boran stared at it looking deeply as if expecting an answer from the crimson fluid, and eventually he licked it, tasting the liquid. Boran smiled as the crowd roared on. The blonde man lashed out at Boran, trying to hit him but before he could Boran drove his fist into the man's jaw. Once again he heard the snap of bone, the blonde man fell down in a heap. Boran raised his hand to silence the crowd and silence came quickly. Boran looked around the room and after what seemed like an eternity Boran began to speak 'Fellow friends. You are all alike, all feed on one thing. You are all vampires' the words echoed through the dim room. Boran continued 'Tomorrow I will post assignments through your doors. They must be completed, if you fail to complete them then...' the sentence trailed off and Boran looked at the blonde man, his hair was red with blood now. Boran walked away, slipping his shoes on as he passed. As Boran opened the door to leave he turned and smiled 'Continue'; the deafening roar of cheering filled his ears once again.
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'You kill the master, you kill them all' the English accent filled the room 'the problem is that no one knows who the master is'. Tyler Freeman stood up; it was boiling in the small confines of the room. Tyler walked to the window and pulled it up, the air came in and Tyler sighed as the cool breeze hit his face. The sun was high and Tyler looked up at it for a second, he lowered his gaze and saw green lights dancing in front of him, he shut his eyes and rubbed them, trying to get ...

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