Говорилка - Страница 102

Говорилка

Дата: Четверг, 02.10.2008, 20:36 | Сообщение # 1516

Jasdero

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Quote (Pidjak)

izzi, привет. Как дела?

я простыла сижу с температурой, а так все норм wacko

а ты как?

DeviL-RoZ

Дата: Четверг, 02.10.2008, 20:38 | Сообщение # 1517

Real demon

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izzi, привет

izzi

Дата: Четверг, 02.10.2008, 20:39 | Сообщение # 1518

Jasdero

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DeviL-RoZ, привет smile

Pidjak

Дата: Четверг, 02.10.2008, 20:40 | Сообщение # 1519

ученик Ордена

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Quote (izzi)

я простыла сижу с температурой

Бедная

Чтож вы все болеете?

Quote (izzi)

а так все норм

Хоть это хорошо.

Quote (izzi)

а ты как?

Настроение скачет. Утром так себе. В школе то хорошее, то так себе. После школы пошла к Ксю и было весело. Ща узнала, что одна девочка умерла(я её не знала, но всё равно грустно). Потом прочитала один отрывок. Грустно. Вот почитай.
Gilver unloaded both shells in the shotgun he had taken from Goldstein’s shop. “I guess this time I get to be the one to say ‘jackpot’!”
The shells ripped through Dante’s legs, sending scarlet blossoms into the air. Dante crashed into the ground in front of Gilver and burbled helplessly. The pain was beyond anything he had ever endured. It stabbed through his mind like a hot poker, preventing all coherent thought. Both of his thighs were shredded beyond use. Blood bubbled up from Dante’s mouth.
Gilver stood over his pretty, enraptured. “That’s a splendid sound. Your agonized expression is quite beautiful.” He seemed to drink up the suffering.
“Give me… a break… you sadistic freak. You think… a little thing like–“
Gilver swung the shotgun to Dante’s stomach and fired off another round. Dante howled as his gut ruptured and his bowels blew apart. His ribs shattered and drove into his lungs, which quickly filled with blood.
Dante was unable to make a sound beyond the agonized popping of crimson bubbles in his mouth. His silver hair was stained black by his own dark blood.
“Don’t leave yet, Dante. I’m not finished with you.”
Gilver pressed the muzzle of the shotgun directly against Dante, who was unable to move. Two more gunshots boomed. Dante’s shoulders took the bullets point-blank, the bone and muscle ground into an unrecognizable paste.
“How is it? Have you lost your will to fight? How does it feel to roll around like a pathetic worm? “Gilver was drunk with ecstasy.
Dante knew he was as good as dead. His legs and arms were destroyed. He couldn’t flee, let alone move his body an inch. The pain wracking every nerve was so intense he could scarcely string together a coherent thought.
Gilver bent down to whisper in Dante’s ear. “I’ve learned two things in the time I’ve worked as a mercenary. The first was to secure a complete victory, you must overwhelm your enemy with brute force.”
Dante discovered his eyes were no longer mobile. He summoned the last of his strength to utter two gasping syllables. “Fuck you.”
Gilver kicked Dante, digging an armor-plated toe deep into his belly. Once the screaming subsided, he leaned in again. “The second thing I learnt was to keep your real talents concealed, in order to exceed the enemy’s expectations. Isn’t that your usual trick, Dante?”
Dante gasped for breath.
“I’ve been able to demonstrate what I’ve learned. Between you and me, the army I summoned fell somewhat short of my expectations. They weren’t able to be here today. A shame they couldn’t see this.”
Gilver tossed the shotgun and gripped his delicate sword in two hands.
“Time to finish this. Though incomplete, you are still one of us. Your wounds will eventually heal. Before that happens…”
Gilver centered his katana above Dante’s heart.
“If I cut this out, you won’t recover, no matter how much demon blood you have in you. Die peacefully, Dante. Your life belongs to me.”