Darkened Days [open]

[Cory Jackson]

Snow covered the ground, not thickly, just a nice thin layer that didn't make too bad. The colder it got the harder for her and Maxean to survive, Cory was worried, only because she hadn't seen her sister in a while. "So Cory, what are we doing now?" Phantom asked. The one thing that annoyed her most sometimes was Phantom, the well phantom that lived in her mind and could sieze control of her if disired, but things were easier now that they had a better understanding. Not sure. Then magic came and a shadow appeared in the shape of a man. Phantom who is that? Phantom was about to take control, but Cory was hit on the side of the face and she felt as the mask was ripped away and Phantom was gone. Cory laid on the ground from the strange force he had and the right side of her face was now true and bled. She was too stunned to even speak it seemed, but what was she to do, call help and give the police a chace to take her or call the rest of this mans possible gang. The man had thrown the white mask into the ally and now it was lost. No! Phantom! Cory thought, Phantom may return to her mind, but it took longer without the mask. Soon the man grabbed her left wrist and pulled, trying to get her to move as her right held her face, but she resisted. "Let go of me!" Cory shouted.

[Seven Snis]

Blood already stained his hands, the sticky crimson still fresh. He hadn't meant to 'trip' into that woman, but she had such a rude demeanor. Her smug face and yapping mouth made him want to shove all thirty-three of his blades into her wrinkly skin.
He gave a mad giggle, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders, popping kinks. She was a monster too, an old witch to be presise. Old hag more like it.
He gave another insane laugh and wiped his hands on his jeans which only spread onto his jeans and smeared on his wrists.
The soft snows were annoying too. He swatted at the swirls of white that flew by, tickling his cheeks.

It was early morning in the silence of the mourning. The dear old lady still lay back there. Her screams still echoed in his ears, bringing a wide grin to his face. He still had his odd eyes and pale yellow green hair. The hag's screeches continued to plead to him when finally, he realized they were not of the deceased. He looked up to the grey sky, the calls seemed fresh.
He turned a corner where he saw the cukprit. A magic man, a monster.
Another smile split his lips.
He walked casually behind the guy, slipping his hand into his shirt to pull out a small sharpened kitchen knife. The man had yet to kniw his fate until it was over.
With a horrid laugh, he reached up to the man's head, in one swift motion, cutting the man's throat.
He released the girl immediately, turning on him, but the boy was ready. He punched the guy in the jaw, bringing him to his knees as he clutched his flooding throat. It seemed he was drowning.
Cruel thing. He walked behind the magic man, position his hands around his head and giving a sharp jerk to the left. A snap split the silence and the man slumped forward, his crimson drink pouring onto the freshly left snow. It looked like art to his crazed eyes.
Dropping the bloody knife, he dusted his hands off, as if he'd just done something worth being proud of. Mystery boy turned, ignoring the girl and sitting on a bench, nonchalantly taking out a black napkin and cleaning his hands.

As if he hadn't just committed a murder.

[Cory Jackson]

Cory got to her feet and moved to the ally as blood came from her face remembering the words on the note. Forever bleed if the mask is gone and never stop until it's retrived. A burn of black it will stop, but fear the one you hear. Cory had noticed the small rhymes in the note but she had to find the mask. He looked around and there were boxes and at the top was the mask, but Cory couldn't see it, it was in a box filled with nothing. Cory began to dig through boxes with her left hand, her right holding the right side of her face that still bleed, she would bleed forver if she didn't find the mask, but she didn't understand the burn part yet. Right now that didn't matter, she had to find it before she found out what the burn part meant.

(Morning post)

[Seven Snis]

He sat silently, cleaning his finger furiously. If he was to gt off scotch free, he'd have to hide the evidence. He kicked the man over, blood splashing his converse as he did. He scowled in fustration as he kicked the man under a garbage box thing. He forgot what they were called, 'Dumpies' or something. Either way, he spat at the large green tin in disgust.

It was where all people belonged, in the trash.
Seven went back, ignoring the flash of calling white, it was just an odd mask. Nothing out of the ordinary. But, nonetheless, he kicked it, the thing sliding out onto the sidewalk as he returned to his awaiting bench and napkin.
Free ride from here...