mk a short story i wrote for world lit last year (not very good imo, i didnt have enough time) the theme was "tenderness" lolol (yesss i ripped off fenix from gears of war, and if we have any anime fans here lets see if you can draw the comparisons between this story and a popular show, which a former pwp member had his name as 
)
The Human Monsoon
He sat behind what remained of the wall, bullets whizzing by him every second, “Jeez, these guys sure are persistent!’. The officers were yelling profanely against the sounds of their guns shooting, yet, there message rang clear, “We’ve gotten you, Fenix the Human Monsoon! You don’t stand a chance! You’re nothing against the combined force of the Federal Police!”
“Hmmm, we will see about that” Fenix muttered.
“Ok, this is your last chance to surrender, or we will destroy you, Fenix the Outlaw!” the men yelled through the megaphone.
“Alright, I surrender” Fenix said.
Confusion rang through the police, “Umm, ok? Come out with your hands up.” Fenix rose up, gun in hand, and walked 5 paces to the officers. “Wow! We really caught the infamous Fenix the Human Monsoon!” could be heard throughout the police, “SILENCE!” the police chief screamed, “Well, the famous Fenix, what do you have to say for yourself, seeing as these ARE your parting words?”
Fenix grinned, and said “One thing and one thing only.”
The chief replied “What would that be, Mr. Fenix?”
Fenix tilted his head and said, “You’re sloppy.”
“KILL HIM!” the chief yelled. The sound of gunfire perpetuated throughout the air. As the smoke cleared, shock and awe went through the police, as a tall, dark figure emerged from the rubble, “No way… no mortal could survive that…” said the chief. Then in a flash, the figure dissipated into the smoke.
“But, Mom!”
“Enough young man, that’s quite too much out of you.”
“Mom, I really want it!”
“We can’t afford something like that, you know that.”
Fenix stood by, in the shadows near the pair. He was in a state of deep thought, pondering the events that occurred last week. Then, all of a sudden, a flash, then a piercing scream cut throughout the air. In the blink of an eye, the child was gone, no trace left behind. “Wha… what happened? Where’s my baby? Oh no! No!” stuttered the woman.
“Dang…” Fenix muttered, “Must have been the Badlands Gang…”
The woman grabbed Fenix by the collar and said, “You, you have to help me! You saw what happened, you know who did it, you’ve got a gun, c’mon! You’re my answer! I swear I’ll pay you well. So what do you say?”
Fenix stared into the desperate woman’s eyes, seeing the pain inflicted by this attack. At least, he thought, he now had a good reason to go after the Badlands Gang. Their actions had been blamed on him more than once, not to mention the fact that they had attempted to kill him last week. He stated simply “I will get your son for you, leave it to me.”
“Oh, thank you so much mister, you have no idea what this means to me!” exclaimed the woman.
Fenix walked away to the west, knowing exactly where to go. Having once been in the Gang itself, Fenix was quick to approach the building from its blindside, giving him the advantage of surprise. He opened the secret hatch that was disguised as a chimney, and decided to rest in the little alcove. Seeing as the Badlands Gang consisted of over 100 goons, he knew he had to think of a deft plan, or die. So as he rested, he made his decision, he was going to enter stealthily, trying to remain as quiet as possible.
Fenix arose to the sound of gunfire, not uncommon, considering where he just slept, “Perfect,” he thought, “what a nice distraction, this should make this a lot easier.” He crept out the alcove into the storage closet, and opened the door slightly, to peer into the room ahead. He simply froze in his tracks at the sight that was to behold. A man, bound by the wrists and ankles with chains to the ceiling, was being whipped constantly by a brute of a man. Fenix knew he had two choices, one, and the safer option, ignore the scene and proceed without incident into the next room, or, to shoot the brute who was whipping the man, and make a scene. He thought about it for a split second, and shot the man in the back of the head.
Fenix still remained in the closet, fearing the likely fact that more members would come to the area, shockingly, no one came as he sat there. After sitting for almost a minute, he exited the closet, only to find that the man who was being tortured, had died. Doing the right thing, Fenix unbound the corpse, and set the remains of the unfortunate man on the bed. He then proceeded to drag the body of the brute into the storage closet, so no one would find it until the scent of rotting flesh developed in the area.
Fenix, creeping, continued to the next room, all clear, not surprising due to the fact that if there were anyone in there, they would have heard the gunshot. Continuing his little journey, he went up a flight of stairs. In the room sat the boy, tied to a chair. He also saw 2 men, an ordinary henchman, and the boss of the Badlands Gang himself, Mr. Loose Ruth. He sat behind a great mahogany desk, gilded with gold on the feathers of an eagle that was carved into the front of it. His chair was mahogany as well, and large enough to seat not one, but 3 men in it. Fenix needed a plan, fast; there was no way he could take out both of them without killing the boy. Once again, in his mind there were two options, create a distraction, and force at least one, if not both of the men out, which would make his chances of saving the boy much higher. Or, perhaps, bust the door down and catch them off guard, the chances of the boy surviving were lower, but he’d have a much better chance of bringing the whole gang down.
Fenix drew his weapon, and fired two bullets into the ceiling. Only the goon came to see what the ruckus was about, and Fenix quickly disposed of him by beating him over the head with the butt of his gun. He kicked the door down, only to discover that the room was empty. Confused, he sat in the great chair and leaned back. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as he discovered that he was falling down in what could only be a secret escape chute. Fenix landed with a thud on the ground, reeling with pain from the impact of the fall. He looked up, and saw Loose Ruth smiling over him, laughing and saying, “Ha ha ha, you really think you can take me down boy? Do you have any idea how many people have tried to kill me? Nice try, with the distraction and all, but I’ve seen better efforts.”
His body began to fall to the ground, a look of confusion and surprise was on his face, visible only for a brief moment. The blood gushed out of his throat, the bullet hole quite visible. It fell, and the blood soon began to pool up. Fenix smiled and said to himself, “Better efforts huh?” He then proceeded to untie the boy who was still bound in ropes. He was unconscious, so Fenix had to carry him. He found an old car near the back of the building, and took it and started driving.
“Oh my goodness! You actually saved my boy? How can I ever repay you?” exclaimed the woman in a rush.
“No problem, all I ask is that you keep this whole fiasco quiet for me, ok?” asked Fenix.
“Oh okay, sure. However may I get the name of the man who saved my boy?” asked the woman.
“Fenix, Fenix the Human Monsoon. Have a good day now” Fenix said as he walked away, leaving the city behind in his wake.
----------------------------------------------------
mk a essay i had to write, topic could be anything, i chose how death and tragedy affects me everyday. same dislike with this one too, not enough time. (im very thorough)
Every night, as I lay motionless, trying to fight my insomnia, I cannot help but remember everything. The memories of good times, bad times, and everything in between, however, it is almost always the second one that captures my attention, takes me into a state of near alternate reality. As if I am flying through time, I can envision every one of those days, every single one. Even though the thoughts are somber, I cannot help the fact that re-living those days somehow makes the feeling similar to as if I might be able to stop something, as if I might be able to change reality, as if I am somehow responsible for all of this. I just cannot help myself, as I attempt to change back time, that maybe I could have done something.
I remember the phone call, it came out of the middle of nowhere. As I was getting ready to go to bed, my father came up to me with a heartbreaking face upon him. He simply handed me the phone. Soon after I received that call, I began to cry, my cousin had gotten into an accident whilst dirt biking. The week before that, he asked me if I wanted to go riding with him out at the gravel pit, I declined, it was my weekend with my dad. I figured at the time we could go the week after, but seeing as he broke his back and his arm, and is now paralyzed from the waist down, that apparently couldn’t happen. If the day comes when he is able to walk again due to the miracles of science, I may be the happiest cousin on the great Earth itself. His accident changed me in ways I can only speculate. His demeanor is so inspiring, he has the attitude where nothing can stop him, and he can back it up. That attitude alone has changed my perspective on life, on how precious it is, on how insanely easy it is to lose someone, to lose an ability, to lose your life.
It was one of the most fun days of my life to be sure. I was at Josh’s graduation party. Josh is my dad’s best friend’s stepson. Jeff, my dad’s best friend, had rented a cotton candy machine. We sat there, making the giant balls of spun sugar, and giving them to happy faced, joyous little kids. About a week after Jeff died of a heart attack, my class ran a fundraiser for our class trip, ironically, they were selling cotton candy. I first saw the machine in the morning, but at lunch as I walked down those steps, my heart panged, I ran to the bathroom, drenched in tears. He was no ordinary man, not only my father’s friend, but mine as well. He is the one who got me started on the whole video game trend. My dad tells me stories, of times when I was but an infant, sitting in my rocker watching them play the Sega Genesis. Us knowing that he introduced my dad and me to some of the best games of all time. Honestly, my favorite game ever, is The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Jeff came to our house with his brand new Xbox 360 a few weeks after it came out, he showed me the game, my dad really didn’t care, but I did. As nerdy as this sounds, he created a dark elf acrobat, I still have his character saved on my hard drive, untouched. Perhaps one day I will finish his quests, for he met an untimely end. Someone must do it.
The most recent of my life’s turmoil occurred the weekend before school started. My friend Craig was with me, keeping me company as I went school shopping in Duluth, not that he wanted to, but I went with him once before so he owed me a day of hanging out. As I finished up purchasing my attire, I received a phone call. Clay, my mother’s boyfriend gave me some very depressing news. He was in Moose Lake, at Mercy Hospital. My mom had “jumped” off a horse because it was beginning to buck her off. She landed flat on her butt. A vertebra in her back had shattered due to a compound fracture. Needless to say, we were all frightened and sad for my mother. However, there was good news; she was transferred to St. Luke’s hospital in Duluth, where they were able to make more decisive statements about her condition. As it turns out, she was about a half inch away from severing her spinal cord. She had surgery to insert a metal rod and screws overnight. When I returned to the hospital the next day, we got excellent news; the surgery was a complete success! My mother still recovering from her surgery, I didn’t see much of her that day, the next day, however, she was fully conscious, albeit just a little drugged up from the morphine. Almost immediately after I entered her room, a fitter for plastic body casts came in to do measurements for her, as she calls it, her “turtle shell”. After he was done, he came out to the waiting room to tell us that it would only be about 24 hours before she was in her cast and able to attempt to walk with a walker. Only about 3 weeks after surgery, she is able to walk without a walker; she must have the cast on until November, but its much better then the alternative.
I felt like these stories could sum up some of the things that make me who I am. I do not think that if I were to not experience that I would be as mentally sound, patient, or physically or mentally strong. Yes, there was a time when I felt like my life could get no worse, but I came to realize, that as long as people close to me and I are alive, life can get no better. These memories, these periods of remembrance, periods of sorrow, have changed me in more ways than you or I or anyone could imagine or comprehend. Of course I miss the ones I lost and feel terrible at the thought of the pain my close family must have endured, but I have learned to appreciate them for the lives they had lived, the way they lived their life, and the way trauma brings us back into the stark reality that is life.
there ya go, hope ya enjoy
if ya dont, sorry to waste your time and :upyours:
) The Human Monsoon
He sat behind what remained of the wall, bullets whizzing by him every second, “Jeez, these guys sure are persistent!’. The officers were yelling profanely against the sounds of their guns shooting, yet, there message rang clear, “We’ve gotten you, Fenix the Human Monsoon! You don’t stand a chance! You’re nothing against the combined force of the Federal Police!”
“Hmmm, we will see about that” Fenix muttered.
“Ok, this is your last chance to surrender, or we will destroy you, Fenix the Outlaw!” the men yelled through the megaphone.
“Alright, I surrender” Fenix said.
Confusion rang through the police, “Umm, ok? Come out with your hands up.” Fenix rose up, gun in hand, and walked 5 paces to the officers. “Wow! We really caught the infamous Fenix the Human Monsoon!” could be heard throughout the police, “SILENCE!” the police chief screamed, “Well, the famous Fenix, what do you have to say for yourself, seeing as these ARE your parting words?”
Fenix grinned, and said “One thing and one thing only.”
The chief replied “What would that be, Mr. Fenix?”
Fenix tilted his head and said, “You’re sloppy.”
“KILL HIM!” the chief yelled. The sound of gunfire perpetuated throughout the air. As the smoke cleared, shock and awe went through the police, as a tall, dark figure emerged from the rubble, “No way… no mortal could survive that…” said the chief. Then in a flash, the figure dissipated into the smoke.
“But, Mom!”
“Enough young man, that’s quite too much out of you.”
“Mom, I really want it!”
“We can’t afford something like that, you know that.”
Fenix stood by, in the shadows near the pair. He was in a state of deep thought, pondering the events that occurred last week. Then, all of a sudden, a flash, then a piercing scream cut throughout the air. In the blink of an eye, the child was gone, no trace left behind. “Wha… what happened? Where’s my baby? Oh no! No!” stuttered the woman.
“Dang…” Fenix muttered, “Must have been the Badlands Gang…”
The woman grabbed Fenix by the collar and said, “You, you have to help me! You saw what happened, you know who did it, you’ve got a gun, c’mon! You’re my answer! I swear I’ll pay you well. So what do you say?”
Fenix stared into the desperate woman’s eyes, seeing the pain inflicted by this attack. At least, he thought, he now had a good reason to go after the Badlands Gang. Their actions had been blamed on him more than once, not to mention the fact that they had attempted to kill him last week. He stated simply “I will get your son for you, leave it to me.”
“Oh, thank you so much mister, you have no idea what this means to me!” exclaimed the woman.
Fenix walked away to the west, knowing exactly where to go. Having once been in the Gang itself, Fenix was quick to approach the building from its blindside, giving him the advantage of surprise. He opened the secret hatch that was disguised as a chimney, and decided to rest in the little alcove. Seeing as the Badlands Gang consisted of over 100 goons, he knew he had to think of a deft plan, or die. So as he rested, he made his decision, he was going to enter stealthily, trying to remain as quiet as possible.
Fenix arose to the sound of gunfire, not uncommon, considering where he just slept, “Perfect,” he thought, “what a nice distraction, this should make this a lot easier.” He crept out the alcove into the storage closet, and opened the door slightly, to peer into the room ahead. He simply froze in his tracks at the sight that was to behold. A man, bound by the wrists and ankles with chains to the ceiling, was being whipped constantly by a brute of a man. Fenix knew he had two choices, one, and the safer option, ignore the scene and proceed without incident into the next room, or, to shoot the brute who was whipping the man, and make a scene. He thought about it for a split second, and shot the man in the back of the head.
Fenix still remained in the closet, fearing the likely fact that more members would come to the area, shockingly, no one came as he sat there. After sitting for almost a minute, he exited the closet, only to find that the man who was being tortured, had died. Doing the right thing, Fenix unbound the corpse, and set the remains of the unfortunate man on the bed. He then proceeded to drag the body of the brute into the storage closet, so no one would find it until the scent of rotting flesh developed in the area.
Fenix, creeping, continued to the next room, all clear, not surprising due to the fact that if there were anyone in there, they would have heard the gunshot. Continuing his little journey, he went up a flight of stairs. In the room sat the boy, tied to a chair. He also saw 2 men, an ordinary henchman, and the boss of the Badlands Gang himself, Mr. Loose Ruth. He sat behind a great mahogany desk, gilded with gold on the feathers of an eagle that was carved into the front of it. His chair was mahogany as well, and large enough to seat not one, but 3 men in it. Fenix needed a plan, fast; there was no way he could take out both of them without killing the boy. Once again, in his mind there were two options, create a distraction, and force at least one, if not both of the men out, which would make his chances of saving the boy much higher. Or, perhaps, bust the door down and catch them off guard, the chances of the boy surviving were lower, but he’d have a much better chance of bringing the whole gang down.
Fenix drew his weapon, and fired two bullets into the ceiling. Only the goon came to see what the ruckus was about, and Fenix quickly disposed of him by beating him over the head with the butt of his gun. He kicked the door down, only to discover that the room was empty. Confused, he sat in the great chair and leaned back. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as he discovered that he was falling down in what could only be a secret escape chute. Fenix landed with a thud on the ground, reeling with pain from the impact of the fall. He looked up, and saw Loose Ruth smiling over him, laughing and saying, “Ha ha ha, you really think you can take me down boy? Do you have any idea how many people have tried to kill me? Nice try, with the distraction and all, but I’ve seen better efforts.”
His body began to fall to the ground, a look of confusion and surprise was on his face, visible only for a brief moment. The blood gushed out of his throat, the bullet hole quite visible. It fell, and the blood soon began to pool up. Fenix smiled and said to himself, “Better efforts huh?” He then proceeded to untie the boy who was still bound in ropes. He was unconscious, so Fenix had to carry him. He found an old car near the back of the building, and took it and started driving.
“Oh my goodness! You actually saved my boy? How can I ever repay you?” exclaimed the woman in a rush.
“No problem, all I ask is that you keep this whole fiasco quiet for me, ok?” asked Fenix.
“Oh okay, sure. However may I get the name of the man who saved my boy?” asked the woman.
“Fenix, Fenix the Human Monsoon. Have a good day now” Fenix said as he walked away, leaving the city behind in his wake.
----------------------------------------------------
mk a essay i had to write, topic could be anything, i chose how death and tragedy affects me everyday. same dislike with this one too, not enough time. (im very thorough)
Every night, as I lay motionless, trying to fight my insomnia, I cannot help but remember everything. The memories of good times, bad times, and everything in between, however, it is almost always the second one that captures my attention, takes me into a state of near alternate reality. As if I am flying through time, I can envision every one of those days, every single one. Even though the thoughts are somber, I cannot help the fact that re-living those days somehow makes the feeling similar to as if I might be able to stop something, as if I might be able to change reality, as if I am somehow responsible for all of this. I just cannot help myself, as I attempt to change back time, that maybe I could have done something.
I remember the phone call, it came out of the middle of nowhere. As I was getting ready to go to bed, my father came up to me with a heartbreaking face upon him. He simply handed me the phone. Soon after I received that call, I began to cry, my cousin had gotten into an accident whilst dirt biking. The week before that, he asked me if I wanted to go riding with him out at the gravel pit, I declined, it was my weekend with my dad. I figured at the time we could go the week after, but seeing as he broke his back and his arm, and is now paralyzed from the waist down, that apparently couldn’t happen. If the day comes when he is able to walk again due to the miracles of science, I may be the happiest cousin on the great Earth itself. His accident changed me in ways I can only speculate. His demeanor is so inspiring, he has the attitude where nothing can stop him, and he can back it up. That attitude alone has changed my perspective on life, on how precious it is, on how insanely easy it is to lose someone, to lose an ability, to lose your life.
It was one of the most fun days of my life to be sure. I was at Josh’s graduation party. Josh is my dad’s best friend’s stepson. Jeff, my dad’s best friend, had rented a cotton candy machine. We sat there, making the giant balls of spun sugar, and giving them to happy faced, joyous little kids. About a week after Jeff died of a heart attack, my class ran a fundraiser for our class trip, ironically, they were selling cotton candy. I first saw the machine in the morning, but at lunch as I walked down those steps, my heart panged, I ran to the bathroom, drenched in tears. He was no ordinary man, not only my father’s friend, but mine as well. He is the one who got me started on the whole video game trend. My dad tells me stories, of times when I was but an infant, sitting in my rocker watching them play the Sega Genesis. Us knowing that he introduced my dad and me to some of the best games of all time. Honestly, my favorite game ever, is The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Jeff came to our house with his brand new Xbox 360 a few weeks after it came out, he showed me the game, my dad really didn’t care, but I did. As nerdy as this sounds, he created a dark elf acrobat, I still have his character saved on my hard drive, untouched. Perhaps one day I will finish his quests, for he met an untimely end. Someone must do it.
The most recent of my life’s turmoil occurred the weekend before school started. My friend Craig was with me, keeping me company as I went school shopping in Duluth, not that he wanted to, but I went with him once before so he owed me a day of hanging out. As I finished up purchasing my attire, I received a phone call. Clay, my mother’s boyfriend gave me some very depressing news. He was in Moose Lake, at Mercy Hospital. My mom had “jumped” off a horse because it was beginning to buck her off. She landed flat on her butt. A vertebra in her back had shattered due to a compound fracture. Needless to say, we were all frightened and sad for my mother. However, there was good news; she was transferred to St. Luke’s hospital in Duluth, where they were able to make more decisive statements about her condition. As it turns out, she was about a half inch away from severing her spinal cord. She had surgery to insert a metal rod and screws overnight. When I returned to the hospital the next day, we got excellent news; the surgery was a complete success! My mother still recovering from her surgery, I didn’t see much of her that day, the next day, however, she was fully conscious, albeit just a little drugged up from the morphine. Almost immediately after I entered her room, a fitter for plastic body casts came in to do measurements for her, as she calls it, her “turtle shell”. After he was done, he came out to the waiting room to tell us that it would only be about 24 hours before she was in her cast and able to attempt to walk with a walker. Only about 3 weeks after surgery, she is able to walk without a walker; she must have the cast on until November, but its much better then the alternative.
I felt like these stories could sum up some of the things that make me who I am. I do not think that if I were to not experience that I would be as mentally sound, patient, or physically or mentally strong. Yes, there was a time when I felt like my life could get no worse, but I came to realize, that as long as people close to me and I are alive, life can get no better. These memories, these periods of remembrance, periods of sorrow, have changed me in more ways than you or I or anyone could imagine or comprehend. Of course I miss the ones I lost and feel terrible at the thought of the pain my close family must have endured, but I have learned to appreciate them for the lives they had lived, the way they lived their life, and the way trauma brings us back into the stark reality that is life.
there ya go, hope ya enjoy
if ya dont, sorry to waste your time and :upyours:
miraculous work!!
and she gave me a 99 
