It Never Ends


The Murrstress
Original poster
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Douche
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Scifi, Fantasy, Modern, Magical, Horror, Noir, apocalyptic, Grimdark, yaoi, yuri, anything really.

Chanis woke up with a chill running down her back as she rose from her bed, then jumped when her cellphone rang, The ID glowered out the words 'No Number', vibrating and flashing as she snaked out a hand to retrieve it. Within moments, she was on her way to a flight to New York.

Hours later, she had arrived at the gate and found a chauffeur with her name on a small blackboard and went with him to a black car, stepping into the back seats as he drove off.

Even later, she appeared outside of the building, then made the climb up the winding stairs and into the door. Into what was similar to a seminar room, a huge room filled with seats and a stage area. So far, she could only tell that she was the first to come, so she picked a seat to sidle into. Instantly, a projector started, The list clearly declared on the board.

1. The spirits at Changi Beach in Singapore are getting violent.

2. The ghosts at the Kranji MRT station are now taking their unfortunate taxicab drivers with them when they go to the cemetery, the drivers do not return from the cemetery.

3. Babenhausen Barracks in Germany are getting even stranger reports than usual.

4. Kirchlengern – Great Cliff in the woods. There is a haunted place within the woods. Among the usual uneasy reports of odd happenings, such as dead animals looking torn open, and then their bodies disappearing, vivid daydreams. Now there are new reports of not only bodies appearing torn and dead, but also human bodies and other unusual happenings that people won't go into detail about.

5. The ghosts of Windsor Castle have DISAPPEARED, Save for one malicious one, a demonic horned being that usually shares illness and misfortune to those who look upon it.

6. An odd turn of events, a large, 'dog-like' creature that is about the size of a human is roaming the streets of London. There have been casualties by this beast.

7. A Slit Mouth has appeared in Japan, and many have already been killed by her.

8. Himuro Mansion was the site of a brutal family murder and sacrifice.

Many weird happenings have been reported in and near the old mansion; including apparitions of those who once lived there, bloody handprints and sprays of blood, which mysteriously appear on the walls.

Sometimes, a small girl in a kimono is seen in one of the windows. To add to the mansion's mystery, no one knows the significance of the vast tunnels the run underneath.

9. Robert the Haunted Doll is missing from his home of sorts, meanwhile it seems like the town's under attack of this voodoo doll in Florida.

Chanis Clover waited for the other agents to appear, sipping at a soda she had bought at the airport. She was a little tired already, but from looking at the screen, she knew that she had no reason to be tired yet. This wasn't her first time working with her talents as directed by the overseers of this group, but it was rare for the group to have to be all together in one area... She could only expect that it was due to the large amount of work that had been put in front of them. Most of them weren't fresh into this. She had picked up quickly after her sister's.... odd death, and had been working as much as possible to try and figure out how it could have happened. Though there was one newbie. It was odd, she had never heard her sister talk about someone from China... She figured it would have come up, but then again, she didn't know.

She awaited the rest of the group.


Crawling darkness infested Creed's dreams. It twisted and churned and sent ripples of terror through his body. His inner thoughts erupted into a violent portrayal of the dead and dying, insane and tormented. It seemed, especially lately, his only defense against these thoughts was the booze, but in his dreams he was helpless. When he slept the alcohol did little good, regardless of how drunk he was when he went to bed, the evil thoughts infiltrated. Once he fell asleep he was left alone, with not only His personal demons, but those of the entire world…or so it seemed.

His phone, which had been set to silent, vibrated noisily on the table next to him. He woke up, his eye lids shooting open like string drawn blinds. He reached over to get it, briefly considering chucking it against the wall, but stopped when he recognized the number. It was them. The Organization. No doubt calling for his services again. Bastards, Creed thought, always taking him away from what little slice of tortured life he had to live. However, he had decided long ago that he may as well put his unique abilities to good use. It is his belief that what you did in this life was in direct connection with your happiness in the after life. Creed had spent the last 12 years of his life in hell, so he figured he had heaven to look forward to after he died.

He picked up the phone.

The conversation was brief, but the voice on the other end told him everything he needed to know. He sat up in bed and rubbed a tired hand against even tireder eyes. Creed could not remember the last time he had slept more than 2 hours uninterrupted. A year? Two? No, it couldn't have been that long, but deep down he knew it was. Sometimes he feared that he may slip into a state of psychosis. That's what happened to Meth addicts sometimes. After a week or two with no sleep they would be transformed into the screaming psychopath that stands on the street corner. Creed shook the thought out of his sleep hazy head and got up, grabbing his pants off the floor where they had been hastily thrown the night before. AS he dressed he stood in front of the full length mirror. A skinny frame gave way to a well defined chest, easily his best feature. Above his body was a face. It stared back at him, but honestly, Creed did not recognize it. He had always had a youthful 'shine' in his eyes. It was vibrant and hopeful, but as of late it had been replaced with dark circles and a look of agony. He shuttered involuntarily as he threw on a white undershirt and a black denim jacket over that.

When he finally reached HQ he stopped, looking up at the seemingly endless rows of stairs. As always it was breathtaking, and as always the words to "Stairway to heaven" played on repeat in his head. One line in particular seemed to stand out.

"There's a feeling I get when I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving."

Robert Plant finished singing as Creed reached the top and entered.

He took little notice to the girl that had arrived before him, thinking that he remembered her, but couldn't be sure, his memory had been foggy at best lately. He took a seat in the back, fumbling for the half full flask of brandy he had taken with him. He raised the steel container to his lips and took a long slug, relishing the way it burned his tongue and warmed his throat on the way down. He glanced up at the screen momentarily, but then looked away. He was sure he would be hearing all about it shortly, whether he liked it or not. Instead he lit a cigarette and waited.