Hey MMOT’lers, this is a tale I’ve been assembling for the last three months….? I put a lot of work and concentration into this. Comments and Positive criticism is always welcome and appreciated.

I guess the theme song of this story is The Black Parade, because I was listening to it when I was writing this, and there’s another special meaning.

Here’s another good song I listened to.

[url=

]Canon in D Rock[/url]

Well, here goes.

Rated 13+, don’t read if you don’t like violence and scary parts.

This story has some bloody and obscene parts, but that’s not the point of this.

True Virtues Soviets / Ancient Secrets Prologue: Empty Coffins

2056, April 26th
Location: The City of El Nath

The brisk morning air softened everyone’s hearts and the sun was at it’s best, basking the whole city with warmth. It was a bright, sunny spring day, and even with great masses of people and the high-urban city of El Nath, the sky was blue, cloudless and pristine. Children played in parks. Everyone was having a great time. Simply, it was a perfect day.

“Halt! Halt!” a policeman roared on his megaphone.

The cars instantly put on their breaks and almost did a major collision. Knowing that they almost got fried into a crisp, the drivers swore at each other and shouted at the policeman. On the road, a man that looked like a hobo limped on, ignoring the cars as if they were only toys.

Constable Malkov shouted and ran at him, but the man seemed to ignore him and kept limping sluggishly in one direction.

“What are you doing, do you want to die?!” the policeman tugged his arm hard, but the poor looking man didn’t respond at all and kept looking at that one direction.

“Hello, are you crazy?” Malkov was furious now. He looked at the hobo once. There was no iris on his eyes and his face was like if he did a full face-plant on dirt. The clothes were ragged and filthy, and the hair and hands were engorged in filth, and looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. His face was yellow, with no signs of blood in his head at all.

’Is this guy mental?’ he thought.

“Hey where are you going, hey, hey, ah!” Constable Malkov looked like he possessed great strength, but he was carried off by the hobo like a simple handbag. Few of the people around the policeman came to help, but the hobo had great strength.

They say that a mental person has great strength, but this was just crazy. Four people at their best, and still, the hobo man kept limping one way.

“Hey! Come on now….” Malkov pleaded. But the mental hobo ignored him once more, his iris-less eye looking in one direction.

“Mu-st, I m-us-t go-o…” the mental hobo howled.

“Hey! What are you talking about?!” Malkov tried to twist his arm, but it didn’t budge at all, like a solid tree trunk.

“M-uust- go…” the man howled again.

The four men pulled, but still, it didn’t budge at all. Suddenly, with a sharp, disgusting ripping noise, the hobo man’s arm ripped off.

“Ahhhhh!! Oh my god, what the hell?!” the people shrieked in horror. The man didn’t react at all, like his arm was supposed to be missing. People walking by screamed and fainted, and cars stopped. But there was no blood. No blood at all. As if the man was a stone statue, there was only some black, dried gelatin where it ripped.

“Oh my god, how could this be happening?!” Malkov threw the severed arm off and slowly strode back, shivering in fear. The man kept walking, like nothing special happened at all.

Screams and havoc spawned and swept the streets. People ran like headless chickens, not know what even happened. Some people ran in circles, others just sat down and started crying. The severed arm crawled like a slug, approaching Malkov. He puked and fell down, and a nearby person ran away, but crashed hard into a wall, then lost conscience.

A truck, far away, not knowing what was happening, was approaching. Because of the havoc of the cars, he didn’t see the one-armed man, which appeared right in front of him now.

“Ahhhh!!”

The giant ten-ton garbage truck crashed into the man, sending him straight into a crimson brick wall. The truck stopped, but the driver rolled out like if he was pushed over by someone.

Several police-cars came, ringing its sirens, and did a 180. Doors opened and police came out. But they thought their eyes deceived them.

Splattered across the wall like a pancake, the one-armed man moved slightly. Another policeman trembled and fell over. The man was moving. And his voice came out almost perfectly, even though his lungs were crushed. His stomache was ripped open by the impact, gore spilled out, but minimal blood came out. His skull was crushed, making his face look more retarded and disgusting. Brain fluids came out in little streams.

“M-m-us-s-t g-o b-a-ck….” both legs were hamstrung by the truck’s tires, and he was crawling with just one insignificant arm. His face was still emotionless. Actually, ‘stupid looking’ was a better explaining word.

Constable Malkov tried to get his conscience back. This was impossible. The things that happened to the man… it was enough to kill a normal person five times, but he was still alive, not even a slight reaction to pain.

The should-be-dead man slowly crawled to him, and grabbed his arm. He wanted to scream and run, so that everyone in the world could hear, but only a mousy whimper came out. His legs were like stone, completely petrified. The emotionless man’s face met the policeman’s.

A gentle, but frightening smile formed on his face. Most of his teeth were missing, and so was an eye.

“T-a-a-ke m-e-e th-th-e-re w-i-ll yo-u?” the ripped and torn man pleaded.

Malkov felt his head spin, and wanted to just sit there. If he could, he would faint. But he had to stay in focus. Because this man was still human.

“W-he-re I –us-ed-t-o-be…” he hissed.

“W-where?” Malkov stuttered.

“My-Re-s-t-in-g p-la-c-e…” the ripped apart man wailed.

“Resting.. place?”

The other policemen came and took the man off of Malkov, and put him in the ambulence. His crushed and useless legs swayed in the wind, and only little sauce-like liquid fell from him. The man kept repeating one sentence, ’Resting place.’

Another policeman found the severed arm and tried to pick it up, but screamed. It was quivering and crawling like an insect. The policemen stood motionlessly, like the scenery suddenly changed to hell. Hard to believe this happened on a ‘Perfect Day’.

To be Continued

Well, Malkov isn’t a real character, just a name I thought of so I didn’t have to say ‘policeman’ all over.

More MS action will come in the next chapter, and so are lots of dialogues. I will be continuing this story, no matter what. next chapter will come out tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed the gross stuff, lol.

– Eden