- Old Man Norman
- >It's the year 1750.
- >Streets filled with smoke and vice.
- >Scoundrels searching for victims or food, scourging the very place they call home.
- >You sit outside the gates by the hills, obseving.
- >Poverty has consumed the lands, the promise of a brighter future sits idly by the garbage can.
- >Once a day, one person dies from starvation.
- >If not from that, they are killed by the guards of the tyrant Queen.
- >You walk by the pond, looking at your own reflection.
- >Covered in a blanket, wearing only a pear of pants and the beanie you've loved dearly ever since you were a child.
- >Memories pierce your mind. Nostalgia comes through like a melody from a bard.
- >But you can't remember anything.
- >You try your hardest, but nothing from your past comes back to your mind.
- >What happenned to you, Norman?
- >Is this how you want to die? A homeless man, wandering the world without friends, family, or an identity?
- >It's not like you tried to make friends.
- >But time has caught up to you.
- >You look upon the walls of the city.
- >Beyond it, filth worse than the feces you release.
- >It is a city forgotten by the Queen.
- >It is a shell of it's former self.
- >You re-enter the city. The guards don't even give a damn anymore.
- >It reeks of vermin and crooks.
- >You walk through without a care in the world.
- >You have nothing to fear, for you have nothing to lose.
- >You look to your left. Abandoned marketplace, now used as a butcher's deli.
- >The pork, rotten to the flesh.
- >Worms crawling out of it, but the butcher doesn't mind. No, he just wants to sell and live on.
- >To the right, you see a whorehouse.
- >The putrid odor of women overusing fragrances scatters in the wind.
- >Moans of women can be heard from outside. Their lives completely consumed by lust and gold.
- >Alas, you stop. Standing in front of you.
- >A wrecked home, sacked to the core.
- >Bricks already giving up. The roof, destroyed by time.
- >IT was your home. The place you were raised.
- >You enter the house. Empty by far.
- >You remember living here, but you can't remember anything else.
- >Just the fact that you come here every now and then.
- >You hold the walls of the house, hoping you would remember something.
- >Anything at all.
- >...
- >Nothing. Not even the faces of the people you once called mother and father.
- >They taught you, raised you, loved you.
- >You don't even know where they are, or where they're buried.
- >But you remember the house, and with that, you kneel.
- >You pay your respects. This home sheltered you from disasters. Sheltered your family.
- >But it has been defiled after being abandoned for so long.
- *creak*
- >You notice a noise coming from upstairs.
- >Standing up, you spoke.
- "H-Hello?"
- >...
- >Nothing. Was it just a rat? A child, looking for shelter?
- >You walked up the broken stair-case to find out.
- >As you creeped up, a child peeks through the walls. The child runs away in fear.
- >It's only natural, but you try confirm if it is just a child.
- >Maybe it's one of your hallucinations again.
- >Maybe.
- >Climbing up the stairs, you see two doors.
- >One of them was slightly open.
- >You peeked in the room. The light from the broken ceiling lit the room.
- >A man, flesh and bones, furiously humping a dead, rotting corpse.
- >You peeked out due to shock.
- "What has this world come to?"
- >You turn behind you.
- >Another door. What's behind this?
- >You carefully opened the remaining door.
- >You breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing was inside.
- >...
- >It's not completely empty. A picture was lying on the ground.
- >Dusty, y ou blew off the dirt when you picked it up.
- >You held in your hands a tattered portrait. A family portrait.
- >Black and white. Your parents upper parts torn off. Only the portrait of yourself when you were young remains.
- >A tear falls from your eye. Why can't you remember anything?
- *creak*
- >A footstep from behind.
- >Sounds like the guy raping the corpse wants another body. Shit.
- >You look behind you, looking for a looney.
- >But it wasn't the horny man who was creeping up behind you.
- >It's a small kid, armed with a branch.
- "W-whoa, kid!"
- >The kid hits you in the head. You stumble due to your old age.
- >Blood pours from your nose. A slight itch from where she hit you on the forehead.
- >Three other kids burst in the room armed with sticks. One of them holding an iron bar. They looked girlish.
- "A..ahhh!"
- >"Get em!"
- >They grabbed their weapons and beats you mercilessly.
- >Hitting your back, your head, your crotch.
- >Their smiles and laughter haunt you as they torture your poor body.
- >"HAHAHAHAHAHA, HIHIHIHEHEHEHEH" They laughed.
- >"Tiara, hit him in the face!" they said
- >You cry to the point of submission. You're just an old man. You can't take any more hits.
- >But, amidts the scratches and bruises. You looked around for 3 seconds.
- >The child, who hit you on the head. Stands by with pity on his face.
- >"Come on, Babs! Join in on the fun." One of them tells him.
- >The kid tries to raise his branch.
- "Please.N-no" you tell him
- >He turns away.
- >The children continues to beat you up with their weapons.
- >"SEARCH HIS POCKETS. HE MIGHT HAVE COIN!" One of the kids say.
- >They strip away your blanket and your pants.
- >They never bothered with the beanie. It already has enough holes in it to see if you were hiding something.
- >The look on their eyes filled with disappointment. They found nothing but a peanut and a pebble.
- >>"Aww, this lugnut's got nothing!"
- >"Pssh, we still have some use for him."
- >One of the kids grabs the large branch from the other kid.
- >"Nighty night!" she said as he whacked my head.
- >After that, darkness followed.
- >I've always wondered how I'll die. Starvation? Attempting to speak with the queen? Stroke?
- >It doesn't matter. You've died getting mugged by children.
- >Well, at least I died with what little dignity I have left.
- >...
- >I feel a breeze through my legs.
- >Raindrops falling on my nose.
- >Rope tied to my wrists behind me.
- >Dammit I'm not dead!
- >It is raining.
- >You hang by a rope tied to your arms and wrists outside your old home, naked.
- >People looked at your bruised and bloodied body, hanging from a ledge. They laughed at you, mocked you.
- >And the kids who tied you up took it as a chance to rob the audience that mocks you while they're distracted.
- >You look around. Whores, thieves, even the guards.
- >You felt something hanging from your neck. A signboard.
- >Trying to read it upside-down.
- >'Shit head of the year award' it read.
- >You fight the urge to cry as they continue to laugh on.
- >You look around the audience, because that's the only thing you can do.
- >The kid who pittied you, nerveously pickpocketing.
- >He looks at you for a moment. You look back at him.
- >A young kid, orange skin, wearing a beret. His clothing filled with winter gear.
- >He's scared, terrified at what you look like.
- >Does he feel guilty? Disgust?
- >He wasn't like the others. He took no pride, nor joy with what she's doing, or what she'd done.
- >She looked away.
- *craaack~*
- >You look up. The ledge holding the rope can support you no more.
- >Raindrops weakening the already collapsing ledge.
- *BRACK*
- >The ledge breaks. You fall to the ground by 10 feet.
- >The fall nearly breaks your legs., but you're forced to kneel thanks to the bruises on your knees.
- >Debris falls behind you. You're dirty, naked and hurt.
- >One of the citizens took a gander, laughed and kicked you at the right of your face.
- >Your upper body falls to the ground. The rope by your wrists untie themselves.
- >Fighting the pain, you stood up, limping from one wall to another.
- >Covering your member with your beanie. You try to run away.
- >>>>"Haha, where you goin in a hurry?" said the guard.
- >The guard trips you down, but you got right back up.
- >After what seemed like an eternity, you got to the city entrance.
- >You crawled back up the hill in vain against the rain and the pain.
- >Thunder cracks and lightning strikes.
- >You crawl to the tree on the hill.
- >The only place that you can call home at present.
- >The place where you used to play as a child.
- >It is the only thing you have left.
- >But you can't seem to shake the feeling that you're still alive for another reason.
- >
- >You sat by the tree, tending to your wounds.
- >A crow comes in and mistakes you for a corpse.
- >You shoo him away.
- >You look up the raining clouds. It was the only thing worth looking at.
- >You look back to your wounds. You dab your thumb filled with rainwater to your open wounds.
- >It hurts, but it reminds you that you are alive.
- >You look at your left to see another sight. A kingdom far away.
- >Guarded by thousands of men, carrying bayonets as they march around.
- >The hill you're sitting on was high enough to witness the marvel, and corruption.
- >Peasants who try to get in for shelter and food were shunned. Those who persisted were killed on sight.
- >On more pleasant days, they get lucky and get jailed. Free food and shelter, that's what they say.
- >But not this poor fool. No, he pissed that guard off, and the guard stabbed him with his bayonet.
- >You look away from the bloody horror far away. You looked at the buildings of the castle.
- >And finally, something has caught your eye. A woman of familiar beauty, walked to her balcony to witness her lands.
- >She was one of the few things you remember.
- The Queen.
- >You knew the Queen back when she was still a young woman.
- >She had a beautiful smile. She always yearned to learn new things. She was your mentor.
- >She was close to you as you were to her friends.
- "Purple..." you mumbled to yourself.
- >You always thought she would make a wise ruler. A woman who has thought of her subjects as her own sons and daughters.
- >She was kind, gentle, if not a little jumpy.
- "What happened to you, Twilight Sparkle?"
- >And with that, you felt sleepy, and laid on your back as the tree's leaves prevent raindrops from falling to your face.
- >Finally, you closed your eyes, and slept.
- ____HOURS__LATER____
- >You awoke to the night's bright sky.
- >Stars glowing with the moonlight.
- >The rain has stopped, and clouds were nowhere to be found.
- >Your bruises have started to take a toll on your muscles. It always hurts when you wake up.
- >sigh.
- >You stood up, realizing you don't have your clothes anymore.
- >You need to find some new ones.
- >Limping down the hill, you searched left and right, trying to find some robes or clothes on the ground.
- >You sneak by the city gates again, this time, blending in with all the other beggars.
- >Torches lit the city. Just enough to see the degenerates in the pale moonlight.
- >Gangs and young criminals took no notice, nor care to you.
- >They assume you're just a worthless old man, waiting to die.
- >You held your beanie tight to your head, and went to the city's dump to find some clothes.
- "Alright, found my pants."
- >As you dug through the trash, you noticed a familiar branch.
- >You grabbed it and checked it thoroughy.
- >Blood smeared on one side.
- >It's definitely the same branch that knocked you out.
- >You used it as a walking stick while the legs of your bones weaken from the bruises.
- >Minutes later, you were out of luck.
- >No food, no blanket, no shirt.
- >Shit.
- >You walk out, disappointed, when you see a little kid getting harrassed by adults, looking 20-ish.
- >"HEY, LET ME GO!"
- >>"Calm down, kid, we're just checking to see if you have some extra coin in your pocket." they say deviously.
- >They touch him everywhere, laughing and squirming their hands in his pockets.
- >You would have ignored it, but the kid looks familiar.
- >Berret, winter clothes, orange.
- >...
- >It's the girl who whacked you in the head.
- >But what does that matter? She did you wrong, leave her alone!
- >Moral voices in your head mess with your mind.
- >You can't leave a kid to the hands of strangers. You won't be able to sleep at this point.
- >Besides, what makes you so different than the filth of this place if you don't even do what's right?
- >The older gang tears off the kid's sleeve. He kicks them in the groin and tries to escape.
- >THe kid trips, and one of the three bastards pull him back.
- >>"Alright kid, groin for groin. Pull her down!" one of the men say while he unzips himself.
- "HEY." you yell.
- >They took notice. The kid is shocked.
- "LEAVE THE KID ALONE." You said with all your strength.
- >>"Ignore him, he ain't doing bolts and nuts to us."
- >You lift the branch high up and whacked the guy who got his zipper off.
- >>"AHHK!"
- >>>"HEY, WHAT THE HELL?"
- >The kid reacts. He stands up.
- >The remaining two guys charge at you.
- >You held fast to your branch and swung it across one guy.
- >You hit him, but it only managed to bruise his forehead.
- >The other man tackles you to the ground. You drop the branch.
- >>>"YOU MESSING WITH US?" he yelled at you.
- >He starts punching you in the face.
- >The child takes the branch and smashes it into your attacker's right face.
- >Splinters scatter across his head as he falls to the ground unconscious.
- >You immediately got up, despite your frail legs.
- >Adrenaline flows through your veins.
- >You grab the branch and readied yourself again for the last attacker.
- >He charges at you. He learned nothing from the last one.
- >You crouched and pointed the branch at his stomach.
- >>>>"OOFF!" he yelled as the branch hits his lower body.
- >The kid kicks his knee as your raised the branch up high.
- >Finally, you deliver the finishing blow, bludgeoning the poor criminal on the head.
- >The branch broke from the impact.
- >Three bodies lay unconscious.
- >You look at the kid.
- >Kid looks at you.
- >You kneel down to give the child one final advice before you leave.
- "Run."
- Old Man Norman, Chapter 1.
- So, thoughts? Feedback?
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Old Man Norman
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