"Meatheads, arise and die for your doom has been supplanted."
The ball stopped rolling. He couldn't tell precisely what had just happened. He knew that he had not making a sane thought and he would be vexed. He knew he had to make an apt conclusion or arrive at a sane disposition else he would be forced to do other things that would hurt everyone. He was taming his rage and was glad that he was doing accurately. He was thumbing himself up for the resistance he was savoring. He knew that he wouldn't keep to that like forever. He tried to process the thoughts which had been strangled by the recently stopped malady. Most of the thoughts already had been chopped. He couldn't make a sane meaning of them all. He couldn't pick them up and make them into a tower. Probably a statue or a tower. There was nothing he could do. Probably there was something, but twas far from his reach. That was sup
. "Got an idea how we go here mate?" He had obviously waited for that day. He had seriously pined for it that his muscles wrenched in porous pain. His passion even did quake in rage until then. But he hadn't thought of it under that circumstance. He had thought of it in a better place. But he could actually live on one at the expense of the other. He could keep his thought brooding as a specimen. He could live there at that moment for the time being with his leopard. He had missed it. And the two of them having to face the same odds was the best experience he had ever wished for. He was scanning his instinct whether or not there was anything stray there which could be harmful to either himself or the panther. That was the only creature he did care for. Aside that, he didn't care for any other. He didn't even know what care was. He didn't care what care was. His instinct was widening as he tri
"Who was that?" He had been kicked from reality into gnawing gloom after that voice he couldn't discern. And again the voice woke him up. Tossed him back into reality. He had no idea what was happening to him. He had no idea what pain he was going to make of his patience. He was trying to be sane enough to decode the stance but he wasn't sure how well he would be able to do that. He hadn't been that responsible and being responsible was never and would never be part of his agenda or plan. He had never given a fuck what people would think or did think. He hated to nurse the throbbing thought of he being a human. He knew he was some missing link between some odd entities, but he couldn't be sure what they were. He didn't know who they were and if he did figure out, he was so sure that he would not pardon them. He was damn sure that he would make them smell the loo of their shenanigans. He knew w
"Tell me what's wrong. Tell me I'm not insane." He looked at the panther. He was glad that it could speak but he was yet confused. He was concealing his happiness. He didn't want to give it out so easily. He didn't want to put it out. He was being conscious of side attractions. He wanted his heart to register his state of mind. He didn't know how to achieve that. He was trying to figure out to no avail. He was kinda weary of trying but he was left with no choice. He was fiddling with his motive. He was fiddling with his instinct. Of course he owned himself and could do whatever he wanted with himelf. That was at least what he had exactly made himself believe. Twasnt a mill around his neck. He was sieving his options and taking chances. He was putting up with the odds and trailing the stance. He was making sure that he was bossing over the feeling. He didn't know for how long he would be able to filter the thoughts. He wasn't sure how long he would have to keep the ball rolling.
"See who's chained." He knew that voice. Of course he did. What was she doing there? Wasn't she supposed to be in confinement until the morning. Or was she up for some other pranks. Was she up to some other odds? He knew that he wouldn't be ready to take the shits she would toss. He would do all he could to smack her, to bruise her and make her feel the pain coursing through his vying veins. He was hoping that things would turn out as expected. He was hoping that he would have a grasp on her as wring of her neck. He knew what he wanted and would go exactly for it. He would go quickly for it. He would edify a stance and support it. He was already on that stance. He just needed her to show her odd shape. He just needed her to show herself to him. He would be super mad at her. He would be raged and he did know that nothing would hold him back. He would place a tag of rage on them all? He would achieve
"Come in my queen.." He knew that that was far from what he had in mind. He knew that he didn't mean to say that. He knew that all he wanted to say was a stray of that. He knew that he was feeling the need to kill her. He knew that he wanted to toss her head to the gloom. He knew that he would love to toss her head to gaunt gloom. She had no idea how hideous he was feeling. He was like on a spot and needed something urgent to do. He was biding his time. He knew what he was going to make of her. He knew that sooner or later he would be lent a rusty rage and he would obviously squash her. He knew that time would be promiscuous. He knew what time was capable of doing. He was acquainted with it. He had known from the scratch of time. He had been dealing with such feelings and would continue doing that. His feelings were raged. He was counting the dice he would toss. He was yet to make a decision. He knew he wo
"Huh?" He was more than surprised. He didn't know how he could had expressed it. He didn't know what actions he could had pruned which could had fostered the surprise. He was more than surprised. He was trying to understand what the problem of the Nymph was. He was trying to weigh to what extent the mental horizon of the Nymph could expand. He couldn't arrive at a sane conclusion. He was finding it quite difficultly to understand what was amiss. He was trying to put the odds into whole probably he would be able to boss on some of the feelings. He wasn't so sure. There was nothing he could do. He was trying to make his thoughts worth it,but they simply were licked by the tongue of the confusion. He knew what confusion did do to him. He knew what he would do whenever he was confused. But he wouldn't push an act at that moment. He was biding his time. He had no idea why he was that patient. He knew that
"Come come... You have it." She dragged closer. He was sieving his options. He was very conscious of the odds. He was making his odds known. He couldn't hide it any longer. He couldn't feign any longer. He couldn't toss his rage aside. But all he could he yet do at that moment was disguise. He could even do more than that. He was glad that he would attain the heights he had craved for all his life. He was glad that he was close to the completion of all. He was glad that he would have to put a stop to all the odds. He was glad that he wouldn't have to keep putting up with things of odd stances. He was glad that his marred motives had been moistened and he was going to reap what he had scarcely sown. He didn't know what comparison he was supposed to make. He had no idea what he was supposed to think of course, but he was making effort. That was all he could do. He could feel the rays of t
"Uuuhjhghh" He had no idea how he was supposed to had expressed the feelings in words. He couldn't think. He knew that he didn't belong to himself anymore at that moment. He knew that he was more of a clone of himself. He couldn't be sure what feeling was squashing his whole. He wasn't sure what odd was pawning his guts. He didn't need several feelings at that moment. He simply needed few. He needed the few he could use. He needed only few he could pawn. He hoped that he had laid his hands on few of them. He hoped that he had had a grasp on the few. He wasn't so sure. He couldn't be sure. He didn't know what he was supposed to feel. He didn't know what he wasn't supposed to. All he knew was that he wasn't using his brain anymore. He simply wasn't himself anymore. He was trying very hard to pull himself together. He was trying very hard to make a tune of his rage and passion. He didn't know wha