Less Than Gods RPG - Tonight On Running Man: Thoughts Of A Murderer

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Nov 26, 2009, 8:21am

Less Than Gods RPG :: Role Play :: New England :: Tonight On Running Man: Thoughts Of A Murderer

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Topic: Tonight On Running Man: Thoughts Of A Murderer (Read 25 times)

The Midnight Raver
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Tonight On Running Man: Thoughts Of A Murderer
« Thread Started on Aug 17, 2009, 1:19am »

Tonight On Running Man: Thoughts Of A Murderer

One hand alone giveth life, that of God in Heaven...and yet with his little finger, any man can take it away.

I sit in the insertion cage, impatient for the introduction to end - Arcade's incredibly annoying voice chatters and squeals, today's walking corpse described in painful detail. The faithful viewers don't give a damn about his high crimes and misdemeanours, all that matters is just how much he'll bleed before it's over - I guess it's like when video game producers started tacking storylines onto Beat Em Ups, not that I really play video games what with being busy killing real people. Arcade has always grated on me, right from the night we met - when he looked into my eyes and asked me to consider his proposal, he probably knew I was contemplating just how I should kill him. He gambled with his life, my services being his prize - probably thinks he won big, a mistake he'll discover later. I'll jump through hoops for now, accept those pats on the head - yet when the hand that feeds least expects, my teeth will take a chunk out of it.

I go in at last, the showboating finally done with - the journey having lasted seconds, my insertion cage jerks open. As artificial sunlight glows in welcome, beads of perspiration course down me - through overgrown vegetation I move, the snake preparing to strike. My rabbit is soon found, crouching behind an evergreen tree - he peeks around the trunk, unaware death approaches from behind. I observe him for a while, savouring the moment before the plunge - naturally as I would draw breath, the Druk Fang is then thrown. Brutal in its sheer efficency, always getting the job done - just like me, in that respect. Hearing the whistle of cloven air, his face turns to reveal alarm - he then leaps to one side, rolling clear of the merciless blade. Over goes the unfortunate evergreen, cut down in its prime - The Runner now jumps up, eyes blazing with feverish hope. He stoops and grabs a boulder, lurching over to where I stand - he doesn't make it even halfway, attack having been my best defence.

Back comes the faithful Druk Fang, slicing through those legs like butter - the look on his face is priceless, that's just what I like to see. I pluck my blade from the air, walk over to where he now lies - the no legged runner looks up, tears of pain in those eyes. Hope now is draining from them, primal terror seeping into its place - I pause to enjoy this, the dawning of complete despair. Despite having seen it many times, it never grows old for me - as he cries and begs pathetically, tonight's performance winds to a finish. With a flash of reflected electric light, The Druk Fang descends like a guillotine - like a sloppily carved halloween pumpkin, that head splits with a crunch. Blade goes in, blade comes out - another unforgettable episode's slaughter, I have to say.

The real hilarious part of it all, the other Stalkers believe I'm like them - in this for the money and infamy, content to live like a performing animal. Teenage bimbos with more pocket money than sense turning screen caps of me into their desktop backgrounds, cheques for sums which are utter jokes compared with the kind of cash I've stolen from rich people - savvy as the producers believe themselves, they just don't have a clue. Great affluence and renown, neither hold my interest - only one thing does, a thing few appreciate.

I count myself among this few, a real patron of that art - the art of deathly confession, to rare connoisseurs like me. The windows to your soul, some romantic dubbed our eyes - the mirrors of harsh reality, I say is more befitting. Whatever a person might pretend to be, their own eyes will always betray them - for even as death takes cruel hold, that person's true nature is revealed within. Eternal hatred or profound regret, whether bravery or cowardice lingers - what kind of heart you just pierced, that's what you discover as life fades. Precisely what I live for, the reason I do this - not to satisfy mindless gawkers, rather to be entertained myself. Ironic when you think about it, their belief I have been bought - throwing away hundreds of millions of dollars, all for something I'd do for free.

And when I've had my fill, decide to head for greener pastures...then I'll organise one last meeting with Arcade, show him what his riches are really worth.

~End~

OOC: Hope ya'll enjoyed it!! 8-)

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