Eat at?
At first glance the resteraunt that had been mentioned in the newspaper a few times on occasions, mainly the grand opening and the special events they had on. This article was different however, different in a bad way, in a way that made skin tremble against bone and goosebumps fear too arise. Their eyes dart across the article, the fear building and intensifying, the article said that under the new damnation of the resteraunt that the builders who were supposed too turn up to the site to demolish the now condemned building were mauled inside by some sort of large animal and then thrown through the front door; during their late shift to scout out the interior. The article at that point lost all reliability and seemed like hog wash. Placing the newspaper down on your stool as you stand up and look at the interior pillar that the previous workers had planned on destroying. Gripping the sledge hammer on your right with both hands and swinging back to make the first dent, the lights come on to your left and the music plays from that stage, you place the hammer down as you stare and walk closer in bewilderment. As you come too a halt and the song dies out you get the warm, moist, animalistic breath against the nape of your neck.
Wilbur
Waking up to sore eyes and a runny nose, Wilbur awoke to the sound of silence, something he wasn't used too, his house is usually filled with a screaming baby sister, arguing parents, music being blasted by his neighbours next door and the construction on the pavement outside. Today there was nothing, no jackhammer, no music, no yelling, not even birds tweeting.
He slung his legs out of bed, his legs dangling over his bed, almost touching the floor. He was always told by his father when he was sober that "Wilbur was a naturally small boy" but his father would look at Wilbur straight in the eyes and speak softly "but that just means the gap between your feet and your floor is the distance you has from greatness and at some point you'll plant your feet firmly down upon that floor Wilbur" that always made Wilbur smile. He slid off of his bed and into his slippers to head downstairs for some allergy tablets, Wilburs cold didn't seem to be getting any better, only worse.
He went down stairs, even the floor boards were silent, the floor boards were never silent. This freaked Wilbur our too much so he ran down the rest of the stairs clutching onto the railings. He reached the bottom and turned too run into the kitchen but there were his Mam and Dad, Wilbur felt a wave of release flow over him as he walked toward his parents.
This was weird, his parents were talking but he couldn't hear them, their lips were moving but no sound at all was coming out.
He ran over too his Dad too hold onto his leg but his dad went toward the stairs where Wilbur just saw the face of his sister peer over the banister and say something to his Dad which must of been important because his Dad ran up the stairs as fast as Wilbur had ever seen him run. Wilbur was still worried about the no noise problem he had but he just put it down to his cold. He wandered upstairs back to his room just in case his Dad and sister were going too jump out and scare him like all those other times but they weren't hiding anywhere because as Wilbur came into the doorway of his room he saw his Dad knelt over his Bed with his sister holding onto him. Wilbur was confused but then a cold, thin hand placed itself onto his shoulder as a voice from behind him said "so, you had a cold then Wilbur?"
A warriors choice
The warrior grabbed his sword from it's sheath, brought out so he could admire it's beautiful shine and it's bone slicing sharpness. This, this is the sword that shall taste the blood of the evil and free those innocent souls trapped inside. Having the sword that could cut a feral tiger in two from a single twist of the wrist, no he had to have the determination but also the control too weild all of those raw emotions into specific swings so too still protect the innocent. Harming an innocent was one of his biggest fears, upon the injury of an innocent a warrior must throw themselves upon their own sword to show compassion and sorrow. He was not brave enough for that too happen but he also wasn't so naive as too run away, he'd be killed onsite, no remourse, no explanation, just death. So too make a decision, to kill the evils and under his own hand maybe harm an innocent and then himself or too take his chances at running
