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A Century of Blood - by Elobo

A Century of Blood




Some folks have asked me why the people of Spookane will not look at the Rosemary Mansion during a nighttime windstorm. We found this in some dusty archives, and it recounts the Shroudley. "The most notorious mass murderer of our times was a Rosemary. His immaculate white robes were stained crimson as he delighted in the bloodletting of countless people. After taking countless lives, he was finally lynched in his house on the hill. But his profane soul was condemned to the vile dwelling in his hereafter, never free to roam. Unless, that is, he could lock eyes with another and single them out. This allowed him to manifest in their quarters for that night only. His tortured wailing in the wind would cause the people of the town never to look at the roof of that mansion in the night for over one hundred years. And though he comes infrequently and the tradition holds fast... there is always new blood on his hands."



Other Submissions by Elobo

Author Sort Ascending Sort Descending Title Sort Ascending Sort Descending Description Sort Ascending Sort Descending Date Sort Ascending Sort Descending Rank Sort Ascending Sort Descending
Elobo Bella Notte
[Halloween 2009] She was a revered mummy diva from a posh Castle basement seeking to free herself from the oppressive shackles of high society. He was a scoundrel of a tramp from the wrong side of the courtyard looking for real substance in life. What they found was each other. People called them star-crossed lovers, they said it would never work out. Their passion and devotion for one another proved them all wrong though, and gawkers and gossips came from all over the Castle to see this purest example of true love.
2/7/10 0.00
Elobo Broken Silence
I am an Omega Borg, one of the greatest warriors of the invading forces. I was designed only for destruction, to strategize and react with deadly precisions. It's been countless years since I was abandoned on this savaged mountaintop. I was content to wait with stoic complacency, but nature now creeps back up the lonesome peak, strangling it with new life. How strange it is that the trilling of these tiny birds might warm a heart that isn't there. I was built to destroy, but where would the honour be in killing this fragile creature? Perhaps I should rethink my ethos of existence. This simple song has done away with so much of the bleak ennui of this mountain. Perhaps... this is real power?
5/5/09 0.00
Elobo Carbon Puppy
Spring of Fire Kennels. 3 carbon puppies available: 2 males, 1 female. Bred from champion stock and diamond-ready on both sides. Registered to the Eagleland Kennel Club and Lost Underworld Kennel Club. Chipped and vet checked. To experienced handlers only. Breeding and non-breeding contracts available. Oven mitts required.
4/15/09 0.00
Elobo Character Creation
(Naming Screen) 'Flavours, desires, and interests vie for prominence in a nascent mind.' Weird idea had while watching the ebfgp stream.
8/1/09 0.00
Elobo Cling Fast to Bright Memories of Home in the Darkness Before Light
(Fanfest - Hometowns)

The metal carcass drags itself out of the crumbling crucible of hate, as the enemy fades behind. It is broken, beaten, beyond repair. The crucial essence is leaking from its battered form, it doesn't even have the capacity to hold its precious cargo any longer. The raw essence crushes in on itself. So far from home. So far from home ever being conceived. In the daunting immensity of spacetime, it does not grope outwards but searches inwards. Strongest memories, most plentiful memories. Those forged at home. Sifting through times of elation and times of terror. The pleasant and the painful memories. Days spent with friends, days squandered at the arcade, days marked by the dark intentions of your enemy. But most of all, it cherishes its time as a child, with its family. The essence has been changed irrevocably by experiences far beyond the expectations of a child or any adult. There's no guarantee it will make it back to its body, returning to a youth's life would be incredibly difficult. But it did not travel to the End at the Beginning by virtue of quitting. It demands the opportunity now. It feels melancholy for its home and host. Holding the most cherished memories, it ignores the vastness of its trial. the passage of time is perceived relatively, lost in itself the essence does not perceive the endlessness of the journey. It only helps to focus on and recognize its own time... hopefully not overshooting it. But if it can return to its own time, the host's location shouldn't be far behind. The alternative is an eternity spent in an illusion of its own making, or a lost mind crumbling under the weight of its inability to find home. Homesickness was always a burden. Now it's a child's greatest light in its darkest hour.
3/15/10 0.00

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