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The Diary Of Walter Chan Part Two by K P William Cheng More Adventure and emotional troubles for the cute Chinese guy... the witty W... [8,649 words]
Coffee At Starbucks by Sunny Another twisted tale involving your favorite superhero's, Nullman and Superman. [1,188 words]
Angel Turns Pro by Lawrence Peters A Paranormal Parable. [472 words]
The Fate Machine by Darcy K Metz This is a story about a desperate man who finds a way to take control of his own fate. Or does... [1,157 words]
Poisoned Seed by Nitro A rough draft of a new work. Feedback and suggestions would be appreciated, and I will continue t... [810 words]
God Moth by Matt Tracy A look at the perspectives we take on things; and God. The question of who God is is a major focus of ... [1,390 words]
An Unhealthy Case Of Paranoia by Glen Pearson After taking some acid, a night on the beers is the last thing Pete wants. Larry'... [2,668 words]
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The Sun Ray Hit His Eyes by K P William Cheng Marriage, obligation, deceit, homosexuality, the cruelty of seeing the truth... [2,462 words]
The Blindfold by Danny I. Spitler A couple decides to meet in an most unusual and erotic manner. [1,679 words]
Joe And His Cat by Mark Herner A young college student finds a way to make money and acquaintances, to the amazement of his fr... [3,083 words]
Learning To Heel by Rekha Ambardar A mainstream (humorous) short story. [1,930 words]
Vanquished
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TITLE (EDIT)
Vanquished |
DESCRIPTION
Death, Revenge, Death. Misery has gone full circle.
[894 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Action |
AUTHOR
Crazy Clown |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Proud founder and president of Crazy Clown Productions (c)
[October 2000] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (10)
Dragonball Z - Akira Toryama's Drug Trip? (Essays) An essay worthy of the label of Crazy Clown, about the sheer ludicrousnessness of Dragonball Z. [989 words] [Humor]
Some Explanation Is In Order (Essays) You might come to this title expecting a deep, philosophical, or thought-provoking story; instead, you get this! It is an explanation of my rather unique writing style, by Crazy Clown. [447 words] [Humor]
The Demented Monologue Of A Downright Imbecile (Essays) Another display of foolishness and inanity, from the one who can do them best, Crazy Clown. Requires an altered state of mind to fully enjoy. [1,246 words] [Humor]
The Insane Ramblings Of A Complete Idiot (Short Stories) An essay on the insane ramblings of a complete idiot. Written by a complete idiot. Requires an altered state of mind to properly enjoy. [1,090 words] [Humor]
The Muse Keeps On (Short Stories) A tale of the joys and sufferings of the muse... [1,006 words] [Writing Resource]
The Test (Short Stories) My first publishing-worthy (at least I hope) short story, on the topic of what religion is, was, and what may become... [1,118 words] [Spiritual]
The Unfortunate Homophobe (Essays) An interspective on a homophobe who wishes he wasn't, and some ideas and opinions on homosexuality. [1,131 words] [Gay & Lesbian]
The Vaporeal Defecation Of A Mental Diarrheatic (Essays) I just had so much fun writing the other two displays of inanity that I just had to write a third. Depending on how much you like my works, this could be either wonderful or horrifying, your choice. -... [951 words] [Humor]
Well, Shit (Essays) A rather... interesting essay on the worlds worst waste. Requires a unique state of mind to enjoy properly. [1,020 words] [Humor]
Wrong, Wrong, Wrong! (Short Stories) When did being almost right, but still showing inderstanding of the question, be considered completely wrong? Wouldn't it be better to be smart then to simply be able to memorize? [566 words] [Mind]
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Vanquished
Crazy Clown
At the end the furious battle, neither side giving an inch to the other, one man finally turned the tides of war and proved his might and power to all the were privileged enough to behold his fighting prowess. His every blow landed a mortal wound against the enemy, who despite many attempts, failed to leave a mark on his god-like body. One after another, by the two's and three's, he struck down his proud and numerous enemy with enormous swings of his mighty battle ax, leaving dozens of corpses on the bloody
battlefield entirely cleaved in two at the waist by the giant of a man. None were spared.
He sliced through the front lines of the battle-hardened and disciplined troops of the enemy like a scythe, cutting them in half for his followers to pick off. As they did their job and finished off the once-proud and formerly undefeated enemy, the hero was given a great roar of approval by his joyous men. They raised their bloodied swords to the gray, mourning sky and let out a howl of triumph so loud it echoed and reverberated throughout the surrounding hills like distant thunder. Surrounding the angel of
destruction amongst them, they tried three times to raise him on their shoulders before succeeding.
The raging behemoth did not care for the praise. He had come to battle for a higher purpose, a hidden agenda of revenge and rage and sorrow that he kept to himself and him alone and let out only to defeat his target. Triumphant but strangely unfulfilled, his mind raced to remember any location of remaining enemy installations. Alas, his razor-sharp mind could remember of no survivors of his seven-year war against The
Enemy. One by one, entire armies had been vanquished, and the enemy empire withered and crumbled under the force of his furious onslaught, until he reached the point he had been working towards his entire crusade but had not given a moment's thought as to what to do when it had been reached. For the first time in many a year, he was confused. He had defeated his enemy, had crushed the noble empire practically with his bare hands, and served revenge to extreme levels in his boundless rage, and yet, to his continued
confusion and dismay, he was not yet satisfied.
As his life had passed since he was given against his gentle will the first seed of rage and sorrow that imbedded onto and into his very soul an unnaturally powerful drive for revenge, his quest had consumed him entirely. Nothing was left of the peaceful giant that had once had dreams of a future with a loving wife and a beautiful farm. All that was left in its place was a hollow, smoking carcass of a man that had nothing in his heart but revenge. Even the sorrow had taken a far second to the demonic and cancerous urge for revenge. He barely remembered the original cause of his distress. He was at once both a cold, calculating strategist and a raging animal, a beast from the earlier days of man. He was no longer human.
The creature that was once a man had met his match, the one thing that could, without striking a single physical blow, tear him apart from the very base of what was left of his soul. He had faced the end, not the paltry, shadow of an end that is the mere loss of a war, or even of a life, but the resounding, unrecoverable, utterly mortal wound that is the loss of purpose. The one task that consumed his every thought for seven years, eight months, and three days had finally reached its sudden and quick death at the hands of the final victory.
With this realization dawning on his sharp mind, he took a dive off of the proverbial deep end and into the deepest pits of insanity and dispair. In a frenzied rage at the end of his wits, he struck at the nearest celebrating victor with his faithful bloody battle ax, removing his torso from his waist before anyone understood what was happening. Striking again and again with mighty swings, he cut down half of his supporters until the rest had gathered their wits enough to know to run for dear life. He continued swinging and slicing and thrusting until half of the victorious army was cut down in the moment of their greatest achievement by their revered and honored hero. In a daze, with his murderous body running on instinct, transforming into the ultimate killing machine thriving on well-honed skills learned from years at constant war, he
hunted down and brutally massacred every last man in his very own army.
Still in the crazed state that had caused thousands of lives to be cut short, he looked around him, on the grassy plain transformed into a bloodied battleground. He stood knee-deep in death, on a hill of corpses by a river of blood, and screamed that terrible howl of a killer after the hunt. The horrible wail bounced from off of the mountains far to the north to the shores of the giant ocean distant south, until it was cut
brutally short by a sickening gurgle, and finally the vast cry was followed by a vaster silence.
Death, Revenge, Death. Misery had gone full circle.
Crazy Clown
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2000 Crazy Clown |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
October 2000 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2041
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