Well, I didn't take a liking to any of the games up, so I figured I'd make a new one. Rules 1. Write about the event in a different person's view each post. 2. Make it realistic and relevant. 3. The character can be anyone who would have witnessed or had been affected by anyway by the event. 4. Make your post with no more than 3000 words please. 5. Please read all previous posts, remember we're piecing together a puzzle! The Event: A massive explosion shakes the imaginary town of Violet Hills, home of 300,000 people. Build the story character by character until we figure out what really happened to Violet Hills. You can create places and areas all you want as long as they are relative to the other postings. I'll start. It was around seven am when the alarms blared. "What's the call?" the young man asked one of the older guys. "I think we have a 10-80 in the center of town." "An explosion?" the kid stopped as he was pulling up his fire suit. "This is serious, no more questions, get the f**k out there." the man said, and hit Justin on the back so hard it really woke him up. The young man jumped into the large red vehicle. The blaring sounds of the sirens were much quieter in the truck. Anxiety grew in his stomach when he saw the smoke through the windows. A large mushroom like cloud was rising over in the area of Mainstreet. It wasn't minutes before they saw the full extent of the blast. Half of the towns main drag was in pieces, he noticed his favorite coffee shop in was in ruins, along with the CVS and a pizzeria. The truck halted and all six men made haste to get out of the vehicle. "The water truck isn't here yet," a commander shouted at the men. "This is a recovery project from now on. We have about ten busses on the way and ready to go. Let’s go save some lives boys!" The commander was passionate about his job. The rallied soldiers split off in different directions, trying to organize the mess of rubble and bodies about them. Justin thought he should help the critical first. The dying would be dead by the time the ambulances arrived, and the lightly burned and cut could wait longer. Unfortunately he saw what he was looking for after about twenty minutes of digging in the form of a small child. There were only three limbs on the body, the clothes almost burned away. It was hard for him to distinguish if it was an arm or leg missing. It was a little girl, and he could hear her making noises. He rolled her over, and immediately wished he didn't. Half of her face was burnt beyond recognition, the only thing identifying her was the small yellow barrette knotted through the remaining part of the child's hair. "Laura?" Justin cried, somehow he could see the resemblance to his little niece, and had remembered seeing that yellow barrette. "Laura, it's okay, it's Uncle Jay I'm going to get you some help." He screamed through his mask. He took the risk of picking her up, noting how smoky it was as he ran as fast as he could back into the clearing. In the distance he could see flashing red and blue lights, if he could just get them both there he knew that Laura had a chance. The fragile body in his arms squirmed and screamed from pain, until there was no movement at all. Frantically Justin laid down his little Laura on the pavement, finally out of the smoke. Then he saw the disaster of the damage the explosion had caused. Half of her face was melted and looked like melted candle wax, her once beautiful golden hair was ashy and mostly burned on one side. It was her right arm that was missing. "Give her to me." A paramedic ran up with a gurney, and promptly took Laura out of his grasp with cold white gloves. Justin stood and cried underneath his mask, watching the ambulance disappear down the road. But he was a man, and now was not the time for weakness, there were many other peoples nieces and husbands out there that he needed to help. He swallowed the frog in his throat and went back into the smoking disaster that was his hometown.
Character: Laura An unhappy girl waited outside a small brown building, desperately awaiting the arrival of her uncle Jim. She groaned and kicked at the rocks around her feet, growing angry as minutes of waiting turned into an hour. It was a hot muggy day, part of an on going heatwave that had been plaguing the girls hometown for a week. Now the summer season had finally begun, and all the little girl wanted to do was play in the pool at her uncles apartment. "He promised..." she said to herself, kicking the last rock within reach. "WHY-IS-HE-SO-LATE!" The hour continued on, as more of her classmates left with smiles on there faces. Suddenly a red-haired fifth grader wizzed past Laura on a bike. It was then that little Laura had an idea. She was older now, Maybe Uncle Jim wasn't coming , because Laura was a big kid, and big kids walked home by themselves... "I'MA ADULT!" she said to herself triumphantly. She turned to the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the Violet Hills Apartments. "I'M COMIN UNCLE JIM!" another hour passed by and Laura was beginning to grow fatigued. She had never walked anywhere by herself before, and each step she took under the yellow sun aggravated her. As she walked toward the final block of the town, she noticed someone in silly clothes. Standing in the middle of the road. It was lady in a white coat and rubber pants. Laura starred at her. She looked sad. "HELLOLADY" Laura said to the woman with bravado." Are you lost?"The woman turned to her, biting her lip,starring down at the child between a pair of thick glasses "um....n-no...no I...I-I'm in the proper place. Laura heard a faint bing noise, her eyes widened from curiosity. "Lady! Are you ringing!" The woman sniffed a little, looked into her pocket and nodded her head. "Yes I am little girl...b-but dont you worry about that...don't you worry about me...go on and go home..." Laura nodded her head "O.K LADY! Have a nice day!" and trotted away.
Character: Jill 15 hours before the explosion: A Truck driver sits and listens to a woman badger on about a predicament she's in. "I can't tell you all the details...I just really...well...you have a truck and I have money." The drivers eyed widened, her interests now perked. "I'm listening..." The woman nodded, pressing a pair of glasses to her nose. "I will pay you 500 dollars to take me to a town called Violet Hills...do you know the town? The Trucker snorted, reaching into her pocket for a pack of camels. "yeah I know Violet Falls..." She said lighting a cigarette "Piss poor little spit of a town east of the Mojavi...Good coffee though" She inhaled and sighed deeply "I'll get ya there sister, just keep yer mouth shut while we're drivin" The woman nodded, reaching into her coat for a few hundred dolalr bills. "I wouldn't want it any other way"
“Damn, this is the best coffee around, Bunny.” The trucker slapped her rear. Bunny took no mind to him; he was a regular and a good tipper. She wanted to tell him that she spit in his coffee, but smiled, “I make it special for you, baby.” “So why don’t you come out with me sometime? I just got a fat stack of cash handed my way, I know your old man’s in prison. I can slip you a hundred and we can go have some alone time in my truck right now.” He grinned from ear to ear. He was a decent looking guy, for a truck driver. “Where’d you get that kind of money, Bill?” she gasped, her eyes wide with dollar signs. The highway ran straight through the center of town, and it brought a lot of people into the shabby diner, but it took her a while to make a hundred dollars. “I did a favor for some broad, and I have to deliver this load to that MediLabs down the street. I still have about an hour before I make the delivery.” He winked “What is it?” She sat down across from him in the booth and twirled her bleach blonde hair. Everyone had heard all the ridiculous rumors about the lab testing on humans and killing animals, yet she knew it wasn’t true. But Bunny was a gossip, and if there was any juicy news she would get her hands on it. “Don’t know, don’t care. She paid me more when I asked, so I figured it’s none of my business.” He leaned his coffee cup to his lips. She snuck out to his rig on break, before dawn, and earned her hundred dollars, thinking of all the things she could do with the extra cash. It was the breakfast shift now and the thought of Bill faded away like the rest of her rendezvous. She was too old now to beat herself up about things like that. “Sit wherever you like!” She shouted across the dining room to a group of men who walked in. She recognized them as some of her favorite regulars. "Boys, boys, boys," she smiled. "Give me one minute baby dolls and I'll be right there." She walked past five men of the Sheriff's Dept. with plates of food in her hands. They may all be officers of the law, but Bunny knew some secrets about all of them. Hell, Bunny knew too much about everyone. She came back with a fresh brewed pot of black gold, "Coffee?" "Of course, Bunny, how're you doin' this morning?" Sgt. Hoffman had a devious grin on his fat face. "Yeah, I heard you and Bill were doin' just fine this mornin'." Another one cawed in. They all broke into a loud guffaw. "Well, Gustavo," She addressed Sgt. Hoffman by his embarrassing real name, "I heard you and that little hoe secretary were doin' just fine in the back of your cop car last week." "Man, I thought your name was Gus?" A Deputy asked the Sergeant, who answered back with his middle finger. "Just the usual, Bunny." Sgt. Hoffman sighed as his crew laughed. A terrible sound thundered out, Bunny thought it was lightning at first. The windows crashed in, sending glass flying as a shock wave tore through the diner. Screams of the twenty some customers provoked panic. It was like a tornado had ran through the place like a freight train in a matter of a second, everything was toppled over and deranged on the floor. Bunny looked up, a booth in front of her took most of the blow but she began to cry when she felt the numerous glass fragments lodged in her face and right shoulder. She screamed out for help. "What the ****?! Is everyone okay?" screamed the youngest of the officers. He pulled out his radio, "Explosion, explosion! Diner on 71!" but he couldn't hear a response over the catastrophe. He ran to Bunny and helped her up, dragging all the people he could outside, his young endurance coming in handy for once. A fire started inside the kitchen and the place was filling up with smoke. The officer's had sat at their usual table, right next to the window, and the new guy, Sam who was a small guy, was always stuck in the middle seat. He knew that saved his life. But his novice experience didn't prepare him for a disaster in this no-where-town. He cried as he dragged the bodies of the other four officers to the street outside. Men were still running in the building, looking for survivors, but Sam gave up. He collapsed on the ground in a fit of sobs, his partners were dead.
“Damn, this is the best coffee around, Bunny.” The trucker slapped her rear. Bunny took no mind to him; he was a regular and a good tipper. She wanted to tell him that she spit in his coffee, but smiled, “I make it special for you, baby.” “So why don’t you come out with me sometime? I just got a fat stack of cash handed my way, I know your old man’s in prison. I can slip you a hundred and we can go have some alone time in my truck right now.” He grinned from ear to ear. He was a decent looking guy, for a truck driver. “Where’d you get that kind of money, Bill?” she gasped, her eyes wide with dollar signs. The highway ran straight through the center of town, and it brought a lot of people into the shabby diner, but it took her a while to make a hundred dollars. “I did a favor for some broad, and I have to deliver this load to that MediLabs down the street. I still have about an hour before I make the delivery.” He winked “What is it?” She sat down across from him in the booth and twirled her bleach blonde hair. Everyone had heard all the ridiculous rumors about the lab testing on humans and killing animals, yet she knew it wasn’t true. But Bunny was a gossip, and if there was any juicy news she would get her hands on it. “Don’t know, don’t care. She paid me more when I asked, so I figured it’s none of my business.” He leaned his coffee cup to his lips. She snuck out to his rig on break, before dawn, and earned her hundred dollars, thinking of all the things she could do with the extra cash. It was the breakfast shift now and the thought of Bill faded away like the rest of her rendezvous. She was too old now to beat herself up about things like that. “Sit wherever you like!” She shouted across the dining room to a group of men who walked in. She recognized them as some of her favorite regulars. "Boys, boys, boys," she smiled. "Give me one minute baby dolls and I'll be right there." She walked past five men of the Sheriff's Dept. with plates of food in her hands. They may all be officers of the law, but Bunny knew some secrets about all of them. Hell, Bunny knew too much about everyone. She came back with a fresh brewed pot of black gold, "Coffee?" "Of course, Bunny, how're you doin' this morning?" Sgt. Hoffman had a devious grin on his fat face. "Yeah, I heard you and Bill were doin' just fine this mornin'." Another one cawed in. They all broke into a loud guffaw. "Well, Gustavo," She addressed Sgt. Hoffman by his embarrassing real name, "I heard you and that little hoe secretary were doin' just fine in the back of your cop car last week." "Man, I thought your name was Gus?" A Deputy asked the Sergeant, who answered back with his middle finger. "Just the usual, Bunny." Sgt. Hoffman sighed as his crew laughed. A terrible sound thundered out, Bunny thought it was lightning at first. The windows crashed in, sending glass flying as a shock wave tore through the diner. Screams of the twenty some customers provoked panic. It was like a tornado had ran through the place like a freight train in a matter of a second, everything was toppled over and deranged on the floor. Bunny looked up, a booth in front of her took most of the blow but she began to cry when she felt the numerous glass fragments lodged in her face and right shoulder. She screamed out for help. "What the ****?! Is everyone okay?" screamed the youngest of the officers. He pulled out his radio, "Explosion, explosion! Diner on 71!" but he couldn't hear a response over the catastrophe. He ran to Bunny and helped her up, dragging all the people he could outside, his young endurance coming in handy for once. A fire started inside the kitchen and the place was filling up with smoke. The officer's had sat at their usual table, right next to the window, and the new guy, Sam who was a small guy, was always stuck in the middle seat. He knew that saved his life. But his novice experience didn't prepare him for a disaster in this no-where-town. He cried as he dragged the bodies of the other four officers to the street outside. Men were still running in the building, looking for survivors, but Sam gave up. He collapsed on the ground in a fit of sobs, his partners were dead.
"Damn," Tom yelled as he shook his hand to stop the pain of smashing his finger into the radiator of the blue Buick he was working on. Tom usually didn't come to the garage this early, but he had promised the man he would finnish this today. He looked up to see the pretty waitress from the diner across the street climbing into a semi that was parked there. He smiled and wondered what had been the price, she didn't seem that type. Maybe she needed the money. Tom went to wrap his hand to stop the bleeding a little and noticed a woman wearing very thick glasses. she also wore a white coat and rubber boots. She really didn't fit in at the diner. Maybe she worked at the MedLabs down the street. He went back to the Buick. Some time later he finnished the job and looked up to see the police that patroned the diner every morning go in. He noticed the woman in the white coat was gone but a satchel was leaning up against the wall about ten feet to the right of the diner's door. The satchel exploded. Tom stood for a moment in shock as he looked at the effect of the explosion. The dinner was wasted. Every window in the place had been blown out. Half the building was rubble. It was strangely quiet for moments, but then the moans from both the diner and the places next door started. Tom came to his senses and ran in to call 911. He then ran across the street to help with what he could.
"Damn," Tom yelled as he shook his hand to stop the pain of smashing his finger into the radiator of the blue Buick he was working on. Tom usually didn't come to the garage this early, but he had promised the man he would finnish this today. He looked up to see the pretty waitress from the diner across the street climbing into a semi that was parked there. He smiled and wondered what had been the price, she didn't seem that type. Maybe she needed the money. Tom went to wrap his hand to stop the bleeding a little and noticed a woman wearing very thick glasses. she also wore a white coat and rubber boots. She really didn't fit in at the diner. Maybe she worked at the MedLabs down the street. He went back to the Buick. Some time later he finnished the job and looked up to see the police that patroned the diner every morning go in. He noticed the woman in the white coat was gone but a satchel was leaning up against the wall about ten feet to the right of the diner's door. The satchel exploded. Tom stood for a moment in shock as he looked at the effect of the explosion. The dinner was wasted. Every window in the place had been blown out. Half the building was rubble. It was strangely quiet for moments, but then the moans from both the diner and the places next door started. Tom came to his senses and ran in to call 911. He then ran across the street to help with what he could.
"Come on pick up!" The caller shouted. He could barely hold the phone still. "This is 911. Whats your situation?" Harmony answered. She knew her job. Could do it blind folded while identifying with the caller and eating lunch. But this was different. This was what she moved from New York to get away from. Yet another explosion in her life. "Hello. 911, whats your..." Harmony stopped. She could hear some one breathing impatiently into the receiver. "911! Whats your situation?" "You need to shut up and listen.... tick...tock....tick....tock," This man, probably 25-30 years old, possible Minnesota accent. Too old to be a prank call, Harmony thought. "10 bombs. 10 different people. This is just the beginning. Now follow protocol and make the appropriate calls to your superiors." The line goes dead. Harmony knows the drill. Its not her first rodeo. She quickly calls her boss to let him know she has a lead on the explosion, as part of protocol.
Violet Hills was a suburb of Violet City. The city was decently populated, with a large array of communities and apartment complexes, with fast food galore and Vegas style game rooms. But in the Hills it was different, people had more land, and many lived in the same house their parents grew up in. Traditions in the Hills were stronger, and people were simpler. There was a main street in Violet Hills where the only real commercialization was, a diner, a doctors office, a few restaurants, and a Medical Lab that was the biggest job supplier. In fact, the Lab was part of everyone's life, whether they drove trucks, worked as scientists, janitors, or even if they've been paid to be experimented on. The Labs would be visited by school field trips, and college interns, it was the real source of economic strength in the small community.
"But Momma, I don't want to go outside." "Well that's just fine then, sweetheart, you just go up and play in your room while me and this nice police man talk for a while." The woman said, her hands folded politely on her crossed knees. The officer watched this strange child hunker up the stairs, he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him, a polished Southern peach, and couldn't believe that such a Beast could come from such a Belle. Her 'child' was a grown man, he seemed to have some kind of mental development problem. The officer didn't get a good look at his face, but he heard that her son had been experimented on by his father, and that he was heavily deformed. "Mrs. Masters," The officer began, "may I ask you a few questions about your husband?" "Please, Ms. Abbot, or Charlene if you will, but I've been divorced for over seven years, officer." She still spoke with a doting drawl. "I apologize, Ms. Abbot. So, your ex-husband, have you had any contact with him recently?" She scoffed and began to fiddle with her fingernails. "He's never stopped writing me, for seven years he sends a letter every week. How could he not? He left a beautiful woman and child alone in this world to fend for themselves. He's a pig. But do you think I returned any of his inquiries? Never, not one. I stopped reading them a few months after he was incarcerated. The apologies get repetitive." She put such emphasis on consonants of the last word. "Has he written you lately?" "No, in fact now that you mention it, I haven't had to burn a letter in a few weeks." She smiled seductively at him. "I suppose you're wondering how we ended up together, a beautiful debutante and a mad scientist, aren't you? What was your name, by the way, young man?" "Dept. Clark, ma'am. Why, yes, actually. You don't seem a day over twenty five, and Dr. Masters is an old man, even your son seems middle aged, it just doesn't add up." The officer was being polite but she really couldn't be older than thirty. "I meant your first name." She smiled and started twirling her hair. She stood up and poured a glass of ice tea from the pitcher sitting in front of them, handing it to the young officer. "Peter, and thank you ma'am." He took a large gulp, thirsty from the heat outside. "Well, Peter, my grand-mama always said that you should go after the smart men. Beautiful men cheat, and rich men lie. But the boys who were picked on in high school, the ones that never got a date to the prom, they are faithful to a beautiful woman, and they are kind and sweet. Usually rich too. Michael Masters was all of those things, he was so good to me." She ran her hand across her silky cheek. "He made me beautiful again." "What do you mean by that?" "Michael was a genius, he was a creator. His inventions and concoctions were that of the Lord, he had such good in his heart." "You mean until he was arrested for the rape, kidnapping, imprisonment and murder of Connie Swain?" Peter didn't want her to forget why her husband was taken into custody, for being a psycho. "You wouldn't understand Michael like I do. He was at a breakthrough point with his fetal surgery, and I just couldn't get pregnant. We tried everything, and I was just devastated that my body couldn't produce him a child. Until the day when the Lord shone down upon me and I was with child. But when we went to the doctor to have my first prenatal, they gave us the news. They told us there was something wrong with our child. Michael was heartbroken, after all his experiments were aimed at producing a perfect genetic masterpiece, just like it's mother. " And she winked at Pete. "He did experiments on me in the second trimester. Gave me pills to ingest, things to rub on my stomach. Then in my eighth month he did surgery, he was determined to prove these doctors wrong and have our first child be Michael's prodigy. But something went wrong and he had to birth our son a month early. I wasn't conscious but he said the child had no definite face, when I awoke the baby was a bloody mess. But my dear husband managed to fix it, and made the best out of what God gave us. My son's name is William, after my father, and I've been taking care of him for thirty years now. He really is a special angel." The officer was stunned, where was he, in some freaky Rob Zombie movie? "When we realized I couldn't produce, I think that's when Michael knew he had to leave behind another legacy, and that's where Connie came in." She spoke as if she was gossiping with a neighbor at a grocery store, like none of this was odd. "Well that's what I'm here about, your husband escaped from prison, he has been missing for two weeks." "Surprise, surprise. So, Pete," She stood up and sauntered his way, "does that mean a nice young body like yours is going to protect me?" She leaned over him as he sat uncomfortably on the Victorian style couch, and grabbed his groin. "Why would you need protection, Ms. Abbot? Do you think he's going to come after you?" "I want you to come after me." She smiled, her beautiful face so taught and fresh. "Call me Charlene." The two kissed, but the officer resisted and pushed the beauty away and tried to proceed with his job. "Are you in trouble?" "No, hunny, but you all are." And she smiled. "He's going to blow up the whole town." She laughed so loud it startled him. He stood up abruptly, "What the hell does that mean?" "I think you need to respect your elders, son, and sit the hell down." She pointed a finger and gave him attitude. "I am the law, Charlene, and I am thirty five years old." His voice stern. He noticed he began to feel strange. "Well I am old enough to be your grand-ma, Peter, and I'm telling your, your not going anywhere." She laughed again. Peter fell back into his seat, grabbing his swimming head. "You drugged me? You f****** psycho." He grabbed his radio and held down the button to speak, "Officer, in need of-" was all he managed to say before she slapped it out of his drunken hands. He fought sloppily against her, as she squeezed his face in her hand, the last thing he heard her say was: "Such a handsome man, isn't he William?"
Character: Lou The cigarette in my mouth tasted sour, not that I didn’t like the little rush of nicotine in the middle of the day, but something about cigarettes lately weren’t as good as they used to be. Not to mention that it didn’t look as elegant as it did when I was a punk of a fifteen year old and decided that these things were the best things I’d ever heard of. At the ripe old age of twenty one, and having moved to this hole in the wall, the overwhelming feeling that nothing ever happened here was starting to wear on me. A cute little girl wearing kacki pants rolled up at the bottom and a little red tshirt skittered by me, almost making me tumble over. I moved to the side, my high heels clicking on the sidewalk. I couldn’t help but think how that little girl would turn out. Hopefully not like me, a city girl wearing a tight black dress and heels with red soles living in a small town answering phones for some man I had never met in my life, standing outside taking a smoking break. She stopped as she noticed a woman standing in the street. They had a conversation, the woman looked nervous. As the little girl ran off, I stepped off the curb and headed down the street. “Ya need help finding something?” She turned around, looking me up from head to toe. The look in her eye was overwhelmingly crazy. She had something strange in her hands. I glanced at it, then back toward her face. “Get out of here, bitch.” I started to back away slowly. “Run! Run you little whore run!” It was something primal in me, something that led back to the fundamentals of the human brain. But I turned, heels and all, and ran. My hair ripped forward, the ground seemed to dip dangerously sideways and I felt myself fall against the pavement. Completely deafened I felt an overwhelming pain on my back. The buildings seemed to liquidate. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was the gravely pavement.
Character: William Masters, son of Ms. Charlene Abbot She was so normal, in the best ways. He must have sat there and watched her smoke her whole cigarette. He could see every movement in her tight black dress as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, checking her slim watch every few minutes. He longed to have contact with the world, with a pretty girl like her. But after all the hatred he had experienced, he felt no remorse for her. "Go, now." William said, looking at the dim green light glowing from the clock in his van, 7:30 am. He spoke to the shadow of a woman who sat almost lifeless in the passenger seat. She pulled her white lab coat close around her and opened the door. "Just in the middle of the street." He managed to tell her before she closed the door. She was his father's lab assistant, or really she was his guinea pig. She started off so enthusiastic, with quiet the soft spot for Dr. Masters. William would watch them make love in the lab late at night, he really liked the way her hair shined in the light. He shoved the windowless van into reverse and began to drive away from the site. He counted, "One Mississippi, two Mississippi." He couldn't count higher than ten, but he repeated 1-10 four times before he heard the explosion.
Character:Michael Masters, Escaped Convict and Bomber Psycho Ten Hours Before the Explosion *** Michael fingered the detonator and leaned back on the bloody sofa. His bare feet were submerged in the neatly cut opened and emptied stomach of the late Ginny Connors. Say what you like about it, that he was a fucking psycho, whatever shit, it felt comfortable. His fingers found the switch, and he flicked it and a bomb went boom. He glanced at the CCTV. Charlene was a hard woman to kill, but now she was dead and gone, a bunch of bones trapped in smouldering black meat. He liked the thought. Like she was stuck in there forever, helpless. Then a blinding shock swept across his eyes, and everything went white and black and splotches of green then yellow then blue then red then orange then purple, every fucking color in the rainbow dancing craziliy in front of him. And a small grey dot hopped around and grew bigger and bigger and sharper and sharper and then Michael saw it:saw the goddamn blown-up pavement and the fires and the firemen and the bastards in the tight red suits trying desperately to ressurect the dead... Then he thought about his phone call, and he swore. They would think HE did this, and holycrapohmyfuckinggod they would kill him, spill his fucking brains on that electric chair, the end of so many evil souls... The murder of his wife would simply land him prison for life, and he could escape there easily enough(the morons literally put a waffle lock on a toilet window. A waffle lock! A monkey with a paperclip would unlock it by simply jiggling the 'clip.) but no one, but no one, ever got out of the electric chair. Or the rope. Or the chopper blade... Dammitdammitdammitfucktheworld. Michael stood up, and bent down, and tore apart Ginny Connors' face, and he gorged himself on her insides and emerged, his shining, blazing, filled to the brim with madness.
(Okay so just a median stopping point where I can clear some ideas.) Okay so there's been one bomb so far...The one at the dinner planted by the lab assistant also effected main street (lou's character) and then Michael just blew up his wife's house (I kind of still want to use her and the son to give more info about MM so maybe William wasn't home, and Charlene got badly burnt but she's in the hospital?. So 2 bombs in total and we need 8 more...wow! Characters written that are alive Bunny the waitress Lou Sam the Police Off. Tom the Mechanic Michael Masters And whoever else you create!
Two days before the bombing of Violet Hill’s first explosion: how the third bomb was made Studying to become Dr. Jesse VanMores It was a perfect part to the plan. Even if I didn't know exactly what the plan was. I did know one thing-- I was important enough to get the call. The call was almost a mystical thing. At the college—a computer college that definitely wasn’t in Violet Hill, a man came and talked to us about pyrotechnics and the way we could put our knowledge to use for something other than graduating and ending up driving a car that clearly had “geek” written on it and going to big corporate offices showing sluggish office workers how to use excel. He said he was looking for someone good enough to help him out. Someone who liked to live on the more dangerous side. He would look into our backgrounds a little, whoever applied for it, and figure out our skill level, and he would call us. Being the bratty college boys we were, we made a bet, we all chipped in, and whoever got the call would win the pool. I think in total now, a microwave, Derek’s girlfriend, Martin’s homework, three videogame scripts, six hundred dollars and two packs of beer were to be left in my dorm by the time I got back. So all in all, I didn’t even want to be here, but if I would have said no, all that stuff wouldn’t have been mine and I would be out some dough Mr. “I’m not going to give you a real name” Smith was going to pay me for setting this up. Sitting in the living room of this man’s house, my job was simple. He had laid out the rules for me. ‘Don’t tell anyone what it is you did here, even the boys back a college. If they do ask, you were simply setting up a topsecret robot of some kind for NASA. I wasn’t allowed to tell them details. Get this bomb to explode based on the shock waves sent off by another explosion. Remember, I’m not actually going to be blowing anything up here, it’s simple, I’m figuring out how to do this, then submitting my findings to an organization that will use it for counter-terrorism. You’re doing the world a favor. The device has to be small, moveable by one person, concealed so that no one would guess what it really is.’ After a few hours of work, it was finished, a prototype of small size that would be set off simply and easily by the exact shock wave level of any bomb exploding within a thirty mile radius. That’s where I coloured a little outside of the lines. There was a dial, a certain sequence of numbers and characters that could be added that changed the reaction time up to three hours. In the simplest terms, the shock wave set off the device, which could basically be delayed. It was something that could’ve won me a host of prizes at the college.
