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Spn meets Mysterious company (chapter III)
They stood and looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
-no this, this-this ... - Dean began, but broke off, without finishing the sentence.
- Do you really hunt for ghosts? - Sam asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice.
He do not really know how to keep this situation.
-Sure man, we are good at this-Fred said with pride in his voice-which is not the team?
The others answered him nod their heads.
-I most like how this thug take off the mask, and exposing the conspiracy-Velma smiled conspiratorially.
-Wait, wait, you're saying that these are not "real" ghosts?! - Dean snorted.
-Well actually it's not ... - Daphne said, correcting an unruly curl that dropped her forehead.
-We do not have the same luck-muttered Sam-monsters, which we hunt is always true.
-Brave-whispered Velma are appreciatively.
-I feel like the "real" food, who's with me? - Shaggy cut uncomfortable topic.
-Rawr! - Barked Scooby-Doo.
-Me too! - Dean held up a hand.
-Thanks man exclaimed Shag
Spn meets Mysterious company (chapter II)
From the mist emerged four figures. The leg of one of them went any animal.
-Dean-whispered Sam-drop weapons it were civilians.
Dean hesitated, then lowered his arms outstretched in front of him at the height of the thighs. Finally, the fog revealed the faces of strangers. Brothers stiffened. These characters seem strangely familiar to them. Sam's green eyes widened like saucers.
No kidding-commented Dean.
On their faces painted in disbelief.
-Do you see what I see? - Sam whispered in disbelief.
-If it is again this hacked trickster,I ripping his head of my own.
One appeared to have come forward. It was a slim, tall girl, with hair as red as carrots. She was dressed in a purple dress with white stripes on the cuffs. On her face was the same look of surprise.
- Oh Ma, it's you! - she exclaimed, as if they knew each other for a lifetime.
The brothers looked at it it did not understand.
-Dean, is it really you?! - She said, looking him straight in the eyes, as if trying to find an answer
Spn meets Mysterious company (chapter I)
Mystery machine dragged wheel behind the well. Fog hampered visibility from a distance of more than a meter.
-Well fine, we got lost- groaned Shaggy- Fred as now we get to the festival Tacos?! If we do not we get the time, my stomach will be very disconsolate-as proof of his words, his stomach rumbled loudly.
-rawr! - Scooby echoed.
-Easy gluttons, I'm sure we're going the right way-said Fred.
Velma and Daphne had sent the knowing saws. Suddenly the fog emerged a dark shape.
-Fred, stop the car-Daphne called, pointing in front of him-there is someone on the side, they may need some help, we need to check it out!
-Good idea Daphne, We try it out, maybay, by the way...
-We ask for directions? - Velma revived.
-That's not what I meant! - Fred outraged, but no one paid the slightest attention.
-It does not hurt to ask-countered Shaggy- maybe they have something to eat ...
-rawr, rawr! - funnily snapped Scooby-Doo.
Daphne rolled her eyes theatrically.
-You two have the sto
the passion of writerWho really is the writer? for most people it's just a bore, which sits at compiling all the time, and there you type a make-believe stories, most sick fantasies own head ... but they are wrong, because the writer is real life ... exhausters first starts with the fact that he is looking for his own inspiration. It can be anything, as a real writer sees what others do not see. Is sitting in the corner and watches ... dust particles in the air, face the people who he saw. He catches everything, every emotion, every glint in his eye, every twitch, every frown face, all the excitement written all over his face ... then wades deeper and puts the story. Read out the mood of the surrounding reality, sips every emotion, delights in the strongest ... and begins to write. But do not write about what he saw. All this is covered with a layer of darkness and mystery, all this gives a deeper meaning. Feeds on feelings, it sucks like a vampire (maybe it's because I love them anyway?). That's why crave
Broken heart- spn
Werewolfes pull up hearts- minds whirled in Sam's head, well Madison takes mine too. He felt that he had no heart. He was empty deep inside.Madison took his heart, but he still had it. He breathed deeply, feeling a wave that flooded dementia.
-Dean? - He asked, his voice washed out with emotion.
-What? - Dean said, too softly as per his standards.
He gives for Sam, a glimpse and immediately turned his head. He was afraid, or do not want to look at his brother's eyes. View the tears just surpassed him. Sam opened his mouth, but no one came out of no sound output. He sat there, not knowing what to say. He stared blankly into space.
-Whats up Sammy? Are you okay? - Dean said, as gently as he could-it was clear afterwards that he really try.
Sam snorted. It was not right, because how could it be? But not in this thing, and now he just wanted to distance themselves from it. Dean looked at him annoyed.
-Sam, just ... - he said, but he stopped.
-You know, Dean ... - hesitated for a moment-jus
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
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