"I'm Adrian. Some call me Sarna and Smoke. You not only friends. not take it so bad, but we have enough problems here, so we have to tread carefully. Yes, I'm the Bone Gnawer Theurge of you have spoken. The weird guy who always has a cigarette between his lips. Bah! Who knows what those are fighting from the filth.
My story, why not? Normally I have no audiences particularly interested in to tell my ravings.
was born in this damn town, and in it I hope to die. How say the keepers? Love-hate relationship ... I guess so. My father was a drunk. No one who hit their children, just a broken man, who did nothing but drink. Do not blame him. The company that had worked all his life he was fired the same year I was born. From one job to another, over loading and unloading in port. My mother left him and I was with one arm tied on each side, seeing the approaching train.
You know how it goes. Rudeness, bad manners and bad host. At the end I took off from home. Not that it was one of those kids rebel without cause, with a wolf inside, right? I tried to survive on temporary work force boy, factory worker, cleaning of waste on the highway ... Nightmares began. I was afraid to sleep, and when I did, I woke up naked in streets, with flavors vomits in his mouth.
Thank God I found the Bone Gnawer. A tall, thin, covered with a coat made dust, came and told me Need help . The way to say, his tone, something in the way she moved, inspired me a fear that would not let me refuse. No, I will not say his name.
taught us wolves, spirits, shadows and fireworks. All that you know. Interested in my rite of passage. The truth is that it was crap. At that time many homeless in our area had disappeared. My initiation was hunted to the hunter. Several of my colleagues and I go out at night, crawling in the trash, watching the homeless people, for clues.
I came face to face with him. Turning a corner, a man dressed was leaning over one of the regulars. He turned and looked at me. He smiled with a mouth full of sharp teeth and started the trouble. The guy sucked. It was a stench smelled like there was never, ever forget. The smell of hate, of decay, pain, madness, concentrated in a physical body. It was the first fomori I killed.
Frenzy When I woke up around me there were only shreds of flesh and fabric. The stench emanating from the monster that had killed was gone, replaced by the sweet taste of blood. I heard footsteps behind me, when I turned the leader grabbed me by the shoulder and told me that my work would prevent it from spreading ...
So do not tell me that smoking is bad, hell! "
0 comments:
Post a Comment