Another one of my SS's

Yes, I write. Now get over your shock before you die of it. Or maybe stop having a seizure or epileptic fit.

So...Here it is.




The Dark figure looked around him, trying to see if anyone might spot him. Nobody.

Perfect.

He leapt from the edge of the building he was perched on and landed perfectly on the adjacent rooftop. Once again, he looked around. His hand flew to the hilt of his dagger. It wasn't much, but it at least assured him that he had the capacity to fight back in case of an attack.

He slowly crouched-walked to a nearby trapdoor, and tried to open it. No dice. It was locked tight. The figure smiled, a sudden flash of white in the otherwise darkness of the night. He quickly produced a lockpick from one of his trousers pockets, and started picking the lock.

"Come on, come on..." He muttered to himself while he struggled with the lock.

Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder, and a shiver ran up his spine. Had he been caught? There was nobody, and his dark clothes blended in perfectly with the night sky.

"Hmm...Little late for a walk, yea?" A voice said from behind him. Unlike the faked gruffness and grittiness of nearly all the authorities of the city, the voice was...Nearly calming. It was a soft whisper, but still carried a sense of authority. It was really neither loud nor soft.

The figure moved his hands away from the lock slowly and held them up. "Who are you?" He hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"No reason," the voice replied. "No reason at all." The grip on his shoulder released, and the figure slowly turned while reaching for his dagger. The being whom the voice belonged to was a rather tall figure, clad in white and black armor. A helmet encased his head, and just by looking at the emotionless faceplate was enough to make The Figure think twice about attacking.

"Wouldn't try that, if I were you." The stranger said, as if reading The Figure's mind and leaned against a wall. "You'll lose. And die."

The Figure cursed and dropped the dagger. It hit the ground with a loud clang. He had lost the element of surprise and his only weapon. "Who are you?" He repeated, keeping his eyes on the stranger.

"Good question.." The stranger mused and stared into the starless night sky. "Who am I, really? People call me 'Death', 'Destruction', 'The forsaken one'-"

The Figure interrupted him. "Spare me the poetry." He snarled. "Just tell me."

The Stranger shook his head. "People these days." He muttered. "Most of the public know me by my alias: 'Nightmare rider'"

"Strange name." The figure murmured. Then, in a louder voice, he asked. "So what are you going to do with me?"

Nightmare Rider shrugged. "Don't know. Can you keep a secret?"

The Figure smiled. "How much are we talking?"

Suddenly, in a lightning quick move, Nightmare Rider drew his sword and pointed it at The Figure's throat. "I let you off with your life." He hissed, and pushed the sword closer. "Unless you're saying you are willing to forfeit your life to not keep a secret?"

The Figure gulped and nodded eagerly.

Nightmare Rider nodded and sheathed the sword. "What you are about to see...Cannot be told to anyone." The Figure looked on, puzzled. Suddenly, Nightmare Terror prepared to leap off the building.

"You crazy!?" The Figure called out, but it was too late. Nightmare Rider stepped off the rooftop to the ground below. The Figure quickly looked over, and to his utmost surprise, Nightmare Rider shot straight back up and beyond, a pair of jet-black wings protruding from his shoulder blades.

"What the..." The Figure started but trailed off. He looked at Nightmare Rider. He looked back, nodded, then shot off into the sky.

"Holy..." The Figure started but trailed off. He quickly grabbed his dagger and lockpick and made haste back to his home.




Yes, just a bit from the full story, Yes, I write full stories, up to chapter 3 already. Around 2 drafts for each chapter, had 10 diff. draft ideas for the prologue.

[-K~}