ScarY MonsterS part 1

[Renton Noah]

Call me weird but this actually a story I’m writing for my classmate sense they well be graduating next year and some even longer and I be gone in 36 days. So I thought it be nice to exaggerate our lives, I use a lot of New York places along with fictional places too. So tell me what you think. Creative criticism is always welcome.  

[Renton Noah]

ScarY MonsterS

“It is so very late that we may call it early. But when truth dies very horrible thing happen to society. And that is what happening to Hell’s Kitchen. Tonight ladies and gentleman, we take our neighborhood back! They know we are coming there’s going to be violence. Ladies and gentleman, I know none of you are martyrs, nor am I. I’m scare to dead.” announce Devo from the One Worldwide Plaza in the 8th Avenue, Manhattan. Devo was not use to public-speeches but the one time gangster with a heart of gold could not allow his home to slip pass his hands.

“We are with you bro! REPRESENT!!!” shouted Romelle while holding a sign that read. “Long live the Union of Midtown and Hell’s Kitchen brothers.”

Devo and his idle, James J. Braddock were of the same roots but springing different flowers. While the know Cinderella Man did his fighting in the right and was the living pride of New Jersey and all Irish-Americans. Devo was an underdog. Fighting in the streets, with words or guns, it was always a constant struggle. But he was no Joe Louis. His fighting didn’t represent a race, didn’t won the respect of minorities, because inside his hearth Devo, knew he too wanted to claim the corporative ladder. But he was no James Braddock, he could not hope to be born in Hell’s Kitchen and fight for his home, his business and himself.

“Are we going?” asked Ricardo. The Spaniard tailor who spend most of his time designing Devo’s expensive suits and fedoras, all which Devo was wearing at the moment.

Yes, for a near midnight revolution, Devo was nicely dress. Wearing blue pants with suspenders, a nice imported white shirt, and blue fedora. His Italian perfume hid the revolting stench of betrayal that linger in his mind. While his sleek black hair and gentle-green eyes concealed his crook nature.

“Are all the resident of Diamond District, Murray Hill, Union Square and our brothers from Hell’s Kitchen here?” asked Devo half looking at the gray sky above and half wishing to be dead.

“Hell ya bro!” responded Romelle.

Devo directed the multitude through the Hudson Street. There goal was clear, to take back Hell’s Kitchen from the greedy fingers of the Kingpin of Hell. The self-appointed crime syndicate boss was not only a danger to all citizens and business, but to Devo’s crook games.

The loud cracking of thunder under the night sky, was block by the countless steps of the freedom fighters. But one man’s guild robbed him of this peace, this tranquility and injected his soul with sickening ideas of purgatory. Devo shrunk. Melting between countless faces, as the thunderstorm brighten the night. Their shadows dancing to a doom rhythmic, unaware of the melody of perdition that was heard by Devo. Growing even more disgusted with his actions, he ran ahead of the group.

“Not sure I understand.” he whisper to himself. Behind him several member cheer for him, wrongly believing he was ready to engage the line of Special Ops, that guarded the entrance to the Kingpin’s domain.

Each one of them, exactly like the other; from head to toe, covered in body-armor and holding assault rifles.

He ran closer to them, no one moved a muscle. “Not sure I understand.” he whisper. He would keep on running it not been for a strange item located between them and him. He had one closer looked at it, before he was interrupted by a far away voice. It was a lighting rod.

“Watch out!” cried Ricardo.

Devo would had turned to see, what he was warn agents but it all happened too fast. The lighting hit the rod, and a strange discharge of energy vaporized him. All that remained of him was nothing, he was gone.



In a land too distant to be determine, however so immensely close, a man by the name of Radahs lay wide awake. The thunderstorm outside his house was enough to wake up an entire town. Radahs having been gifted with amazing hearing, found it just as horrible as a dog found fireworks.

He shifted in bed not knowing if he waken up his wives.

“Something wrong love?” asked Stelia.

Radahs scratched his beard before answering. “Sounds hurts me ears.” he answer, in his broken English.

“Aww your so adorable. Go back to bed or otherwise me and Alanda, will have to do all the yard work tomorrow.” her answer was honest. That was how Stelia was. A strong woman who fear nothing, other then losing her lover.

Radahs thought for a second and, was about to answer when he notice Stelia was a sleep. Instead he got out of bed, an put on his shabby pants and shirt. He carefully waked downstairs, making sure not to wake up the cats in the house. Normally he would had smashed his foot agents some furniture but the continuous lighting acted as a guiding light. Taking advantage of the situation, he opened the closet under the stairs and dug around for his old swords and fur boots.  

[Oukow]

There's quite allot of moments where you forgot your s's and your ed's or d's. When you finish with typing out a paragraph, read over it backwards, and then normally perhaps to catch the missing letters.

This story reminds me of Amigo Brothers, the way it's typed out and told. So for, I am going to...infere! That the guy who got hit by the lighting because of the rod, will be transported to the guy in the last part? Or, or...Hm....Maybe he went to ....Now, I dunno. ><;

A few lines that I read that I simply loved.

It is so very late that we may call it early. But when truth dies very horrible thing happen to society

His Italian perfume hid the revolting stench of betrayal that linger in his mind.


The very late and early line, makes me think about how when you go to sleep late, like at 5 am, it's...Well, late, but when you wake up at 5 am, it's early.