RolloLinsky's forum posts

#1 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

Through ash and darkness, voices swirled like buzzards come to pick clean her mind, her vision lost to images of madness; Da Vinci on a burning horse riding through a valley of corpses, her mother being desecrated by a bronze knight, his visor spilling blood forth upon each violent thrus and amidst it all she saw a pale walker; a deathly image of pain wrapped in leather and wire, the skin peeled from its teeth; its eyes burned of passion. It walked through a doorway of flickering lights toward her and in its hands it held a baby, stripped of skin and twitching. The infant’s eyes flickered open and shut, the eyeballs beneath pupil-less and pooling with blood. Barely formed digits scratched at its body, peeling great strips of viscous muscle and sinew from itself, the lengths peeling and falling to the floor like great crimson banners. The pale walker lifted the baby to its mouth and licked the side of its raw, open face before raising the baby up, the infant’s eyes opened fully, fly blown and rancid, its stretched and torn lips spitting only one pained and terrible word;


Maddy woke screaming, pulled from her unconscious reverie by the nightmare of her imaginings, waking to a reality that was much worse. She was in a bed, a cot of some description and all around her were the same; blood soaked sheets with bodies laid upon them, hundreds crammed into one room, no bigger than an office space. Casualties, some bloodied beyond imagining, others maimed, twisted by unimaginable cruelty; women, children, men and the elderly, all laid equal in the heat and the squalor of the room. Between them buzzed what must have been medical staff, though their stretched and soiled clothing and air of panicked indifference made them difficult to discern. Their lack of visible wounding and ability to stand upright obviously made them the most qualified there, yet Maddy could not recall what had brought her to such a place; her mind still spinning and her head shrieking with some internal pain.

“Doctor?” She wheezed at the passing images, “Nurse? Please?”

No reply, just occasional glances, acknowledgements but no help. This was a battlefield; the real outcome of man’s inhumanity to each other. Madeline had seen it too many times before, just not from this vantage point. The writer in her wanted to embrace the situation for the pure research it was, but the heart of her shrank in fear and she felt the emotions of an abandoned little girl swell up and push against her rib cage like a long suppressed ache. Tears pushed against the backs of her eyes, but as always, she did not cry. That was one of the sacrifices she had made when she cast herself as a witness.

“Hannigan?” The name barely crawled across her lips as her mind turned to her friend, her accomplice. He was nowhere to be seen from her limited vantage point and her mind raced to the worst scenarios possible, such was her experience.

“Your pleasure?”

The voice was cracked and aged and startled Maddy when she turned and saw that it came from the mouth of a small boy, no older than ten.

“What’s your pleasure?” He repeated, holding out his hands, upon which was a filthy, stained hessian cloth, wrapped around trinkets and baubles of unknown origin and dubious worth. Maddy tried to fan him away as she attempted to lever herself up onto her elbows to get a better look around the room. The boy persisted in pushing his wares into Maddy’s face while she gathered her stretch and her voice and shouted Hannigan’s name across the room. There was no reply save that of the clatter of chaos common to such scenes. Exhausted, her head fell back onto the stretch of filthy material which passed for a pillow and her head swam accordingly. Sweat streaked her face, heat and fingers of ice stabbed her skin and her hands reached down to her groin; a childhood gesture of comfort in times of sickness. There they felt something resting above the covers and she brought her hands out from under the blankets and slid them along the top until they touched the item. She held it up to her face and stared, amazed by the intricacy of it whilst simultaneously feeling terrified at its meaning. They had held them, in that room; played with them; brought wires and death from nothing with them.

She looked about herself for the boy, then around the room but there was no sign of him.

In her hands she held a box; a puzzle. It was eldritch and ornate; simple in its design and deadly in its execution.

Maddy held the box in her hands and as she turned it before her. She knew not what its purpose was, but she knew there was a story within.

“…one hell of a story…” She whispered to herself.

Previous: Part Three...

#2 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

Hello? Is this thing still on? Hello? 0_0

#3 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

@lykopis: Haha, um, wow. I humbly accept your thrown spoils and assure you that i will indeed be carrying on with this story. Unfortunately, there might be a slight gap between instalments as i'm just about to move, but i swear, it will continue. Thanks Lykopis. I am absolutely honoured :)

#4 Posted by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

Look, i don't want to judge the series until it's done because it all might make sense in the end, but does anyone else feel, at this point, that Age Of Ultron is a complete rip off as an event? I mean, this could have just run in the main Avengers comic and been a decent stroyline, but right now, it's a meandering, incoherent and badly edited What If issue that has stretched on way too long. Like i said... i might be corrected by an incredible wrap up which makes sense of all things. But knowing Bendis' track record... I doubt it.

What do you guys think?

#5 Posted by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

@bumpyboo: So many ways to take this... so many ways confused 0_0

#6 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

These are fantastic! I hope you sell a truckload :)

#7 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

@valentino93: I don't know if there's anything really like Saga or Y: The Last Man, but anything published by Vertigo is probably your best bet for non heroic type comics. Something like Preacher, or Scalped, Or Ex Machina... jeez, there are a million Vertigo ones.

To plug you into the super hero side of things, and since you like Y and Saga, i would probably recommend the New 52 Swamp Thing, Animal and Justice League Dark titles. They are all new starts with issue 1 (available in collected volumes now) and they are heroic, but still have the sensibilities of the books you like. Batman: The Killing Joke and All Star Superman are definitive stories for those characters and the recent New 52 relaunch of Wonder Woman has been consistently awesome.

There are a million more suggestions i'd be happy to share, though i hope these helped. If you have any more questions feel free to let me know :)

#8 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

@bumpyboo: They've actually just rereleased a huge bunch of Hammer films on DVD remastered with new extras and such, including the Reptile. They're well worth a look again :)

#9 Posted by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

Does anybody else here share my love of the Twilight Zone, Hammer House of Horror and old 50's B Moives?

I am very proud to say that i own every single episode of the Twilight Zone, Night Gallery, every Hammer House OF Horror film made (including the relaunch of Hammer studios), nearly all the Tigon and Amicus films and have seen an enormous number of 50's B movies in the cinema by chasing screenings up all over the state when i was a teen. So, yes, i am absolutely with you in your love for these. Very nice to meet you :)

#10 Edited by RolloLinsky (36 posts) - - Show Bio

Shoot And Move

As she crawled toward the doorway Maddy could hear a mix of voices coming from within; men, women and children. Yet as she slid closer she became aware of another sound; a voice unlike the others; different; disturbing. Madeline could hear Hannigan crawling up behind her and she turned to face him.

“Get your eye out, Hannigan.” She whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible over the explosions and screams, “My antennae are twitching.”

Hannigan reached in his bag, knowing better than to question Madeline’s instinct when it came to a story and pulled out his camera. His hands shook as he peeled the lens cap off and crawled up beside her. Maddy pulled herself up to the edge of the door frame and keeping her head low, slid it around to peer into the room.

Words had been her armour, her main presence in the world for as long as she had breathed, yet in that moment they failed her. What Madeline witnessed was beyond comprehension, especially there, in the midst of such terrible violence. Yet at least this violence was earthly; human.

What she witnessed within that room was… unearthly.

Streaks of barbed wire hung tight across the room, not anchored from wall to wall, but seemingly shot from one vertical foundation, directly into the flesh of one of the rooms residents; that resident now hung in dread fear or bloodied death as the wire found its way home into the concrete foundations beyond. Sheets of them hung across the room, downwards and upwards, the flesh of innocents used as their bouquets. Within the room seemingly innocent civilians of the neighbouring buildings stood, crawled or hung over, bereft of life on the torture that erupted around them. In all, there were nothing short of fifty human souls caught in this pit of hell defined by the four walls around it. Maddy watched, silent and mouth agape at the bloodied torture that was enacted within as more spears of wire shot forth from the walls within, tearing and piercing all in their way. She stuck her head back out into the hallway beyond, the one her body now lay in to see the vehicle of their delivery, but there was nothing; the walls dusted, plaster raining down from the endless explosions around them, but the walls cracked and bare with no weaponry with which to shoot such horrors.

“What?” Asked Harrigan, innocently, on his belly behind her, still trying to get his camera to work through the dust, “What am I shooting in there?”

Maddy paused a second, unable to describe adequately, before deciding to say nothing and throw her head back around the framework of the door.

It was then that the light appeared; rising like a sheath of grace from the floor within; it was as if the wall across the room before Maddy had blinds and they were being slowly lifted, allowing the terrifying blue beneath to shine through. It did not last long though, that shade, as it became engulfed by the shadows of those who walked within it. The centre of the room grew dark, blackened by their presence while their shadows grew longer, as Maddy saw that the wall itself had risen, like a drawbridge into hell. The light was from some netherplace and within stood figures, three in all, striding forward into Maddy’s sight, into the kneeling, praying arms of the people within.

It was then that Maddy noticed them; the boxes.

Held within the hands of the wailing mothers, grandmothers, aunts and sisters were intricate, seemingly mechanical cubes of some description. As they wailed and prayed, their fingers and thumbs moved frantically on the outer pattern work of these cubes and the cubes themselves seemed to move with lives of their own beneath their digits, reconfiguring, shifting themselves into increasingly complex geometric shapes. There were dozens of these puzzle boxes and as each one of them shifted, another section of the wall seemed to lift, revealing more figures approaching until the entire room was bathed in dread blue light and ever growing black shadow.

“Shoot.” Whispered Madeline to Harrigan under her breath, too stunned to speak clearly.

“What? What am I shooting?” Harrigan mumbled, having finally fixed his camera and now seeing the same nightmare.

“I… I don’t know. Just shoot and move.” Madeline said, numbed from the vision as a great grinding sound began to emanate from the floor within the room and the boards began to shake, not from the bombs but from something else. There was the sudden sound of wooden being split in two as great columns began to rise, breaking all above them, coming up from some unseen place, their black, shimmering surfaces covered in skin and blood; flesh and chains, an unholy scratching and screaming accompanying their arrival. They were obelisk in nature, turned by unseen forces and as they revolved, great chains, their ends capped with sharpened hooks shot forth, piercing the skins of women and children, men and the elderly and dragged them with lethal force across the room, crushing them against its surface and feeding on their writhing bodies as great spurts of blood and skin flew.

All Maddy could hear was the repetitive click of Harrigan’s camera next to her.

“Move.” Maddy said, cold as ice.

“But…” Harrigan replied, paralysed by what he was capturing.

“MOVE!” Maddy screamed, leaping to her feet and racing down the hall toward the stairs. Harrigan raced behind her, fumbling with his camera to put it back in his bag when a shell flew with abandoned accuracy and hit the front of the building.

Dust and debris flew everywhere, all thought consumed with the sickening fury of destructive noise and the overwhelming thought of death. The building seemed to fold in upon itself and within it’s creases, Madeline and Harrigan fell, helpless, as if lifted into the hands of a careless god. Harrigan felt the floors lift up around him and hitting his head upon a reckless support beam, thought of his first girlfriend and how he had never forgiven her lack of foreplay.

Madeline felt nothing but the searing burn of the missiles flames as she tumbled headlong out of the front of the building toward the ground below.

Yet all she could see, behind clenched eyes, was a death like figure, striding out of the azure shades and reaching out his hands toward her. He was carved from hell and blood danced all around him. She did not recognize him but she knew his gesture.

It was as if he were beckoning her home.

Previous: Part Two...