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** The MacRumors novel **

Shane was abruptly woken up by the dream and wiped the drool from his chin.
He then peered down to see where he had left off in working on his new comic book and soon realized that that was the reason for the strange and disturbing daymare. He then gazed at his watch and looked around perplexed as to why Pete had not yet arrived. "Very strange", He thought. Pete was always prompt.
 
"What a strange dream" Shane said to himself.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Finally, his good old brother Pete!
But when he opened the door, it wasn't Pete. Two police officers stood in the doorway. Shane was confused, as far as he knew, he hadn't broken any laws. Lately, anyway.
"Sir, I'm afraid we have some troubling news." said one officer.
"Oh god." Shane thought.
"Your brother was found dead last night inside his house. Apperantly someone murdered him."
"What?! Th-h-h-that can't be!" Shane exclaimed.
"We're investigating the murder right now, examining evidence and such." said the other officer.

Shane answered questions for the next half hour, and then the two men left.
He settled down into his sofa, his mind all over the place.
"Who would want to kill him? Why would they want to kill him?" Thoughts raced around his head as he struggled to bring his mind together.
Wait a minute. Shane remembered Pete had recently "come into" a large amount of money, as he put it. Could that be connected to the murder?
The phone rang, and Shane was jolted back into reality as he jumped up to answer it.
"Hello?"
 
<3rd person omniscient aside>deftly executed save, Cassie and ziwi...

by the way, how do we close a chapter? It's not the **the MacRumors short story**, after all.

</3rd person omniscient aside>
 
A musky voice responded, as if it had traveled through a large pipe prior to reaching the speaker of the telephone.
"Where is it?" the speaker commanded, with a thick russian accent.
There was silence as Pete stood rooted to the floor.
"Where is it?" repeated the caller, with the same calm, yet stern tone.
"Who is this?" replied Pete, wondering if this again was another dream.
"My name is Maksimillian Laurente Kozlov. I will not ask you again, where is it?"
Adrenalin pushed by fear began to flow through Pete's veins, with the realization that Kozlov knew who he was. He must, if he had found and called his number.
"I don't know what you are talking about" Pete lied, staring out his window with wide eyes.
 
Shamus said:
A musky voice responded, as if it had traveled through a large pipe prior to reaching the speaker of the telephone.
"Where is it?" the speaker commanded, with a thick russian accent.
There was silence as Pete stood rooted to the floor.
"Where is it?" repeated the caller, with the same calm, yet stern tone.
"Who is this?" replied Pete, wondering if this again was another dream.
"My name is Maksimillian Laurente Kozlov. I will not ask you again, where is it?"
Adrenalin pushed by fear began to flow through Pete's veins, with the realization that Kozlov knew who he was. He must, if he had found and called his number.
"I don't know what you are talking about" Pete lied, staring out his window with wide eyes.
Click to expand...

"I shall not ask you again, Gabriel! I know all about your plan... your desire, your passion, your thirst for revenge! I know that your name isn't 'Pete', but if you want to continue playing this game, I'll acquiesce. But I'm going to ask you one more time... Where is it?"

Just then, Gabriel darted across the room to grab his trusty 9mm, and came back to the phone, peering out his window... wondering who could have found out his plan.
 
mgargan1 said:
"I shall not ask you again, Gabriel! I know all about your plan... your desire, your passion, your thirst for revenge! I know that your name isn't 'Pete', but if you want to continue playing this game, I'll acquiesce. But I'm going to ask you one more time... Where is it?"

Just then, Gabriel darted across the room to grab his trusty 9mm, and came back to the phone, peering out his window... wondering who could have found out his plan.
Click to expand...

"I've got to make a few calls", Gabriel, or Pete, pondered to himself.

He abruptly packed his bags while calling a cab. Not knowing what to take he just found the biggest bag possible some things inside. Beans, Jeans and some shirts.

"Should be enough", he thought. Until it struck him that were he was going, what he was doing and why he was to do it was still slightly mysterious- so he packed some more.

While still packing, his cab arrived. He rushed out. Still uncertain of a destination.
 
Jasonbot said:
"I've got to make a few calls", Gabriel, or Pete, pondered to himself.

He abruptly packed his bags while calling a cab. Not knowing what to take he just found the biggest bag possible some things inside. Beans, Jeans and some shirts.

"Should be enough", he thought. Until it struck him that were he was going, what he was doing and why he was to do it was still slightly mysterious- so he packed some more.

While still packing, his cab arrived. He rushed out. Still uncertain of a destination.
Click to expand...

Gabriel never even noticed the man sitting in the back seat of the cab until it was too late. He felt the hard barrel of a handgun pressed into his ribs as he was about to tell the cab driver to take him to the airport.
 
imac/cheese said:
Gabriel never even noticed the man sitting in the back seat of the cab until it was too late. He felt the hard barrel of a handgun pressed into his ribs as he was about to tell the cab driver to take him to the airport.
Click to expand...

"So Gabriel, do I have your attention now?" Kozlov said, as he was pressing his firearm into the ribs of his adversary.

"How did you find me?! You're never going to get me to talk!"

"I don't need to, your mind will tell me everything I need to know. All you need to do now is sleep Gabriel, just sleep."

At this moment, Kozlov injected Gabriel with a syringe.

The next thing Gabriel knew, he was in an interrogation room, strapped to a chair.
 
The room surrounding the chair was bright, sterile. Not a sound could be heard, until the tap of Kozlov's shoes fractured the silence.
THWACK! The powerful side-arm dealt to Gabriel forced a stream of blood from his lip.
"The joke is over Gabriel. We know of your exploits at Mount Chimborazo."
Fear ran through Gabriel like an insipid creature taking over his entire body. He tried to hide it, but Gabriel's reaction did not deceive Kozlov's trained eye.
"Ah yes, Mr. Curtin, we know of the stone. We know of the curious atmospheric phenomenon occurring over Ecuador. Don't assume our ignorance to what you believe is secret."
A second man entered the room, and Gabriel slowly raised his head, still numb from the blow. His eyes flew open immediately.
 
Shock. And awe. Perhaps so much so that a new word was formed, an expansion of the lexicon of the dark, of the demented, of the inner workings of the black hearts of men. Shockawe. The second man, if indeed man is what you can call what he has become, stepped into full view. Out of the shadows he expanded, pulling them with him, flowing behind his form like a billowing cape. The man with the stone. The man of the stone. The man who was now as much a part of the stone as the stone was a part of the universe. Horrifying, cadaverous, rotting and curdling, almost reptilian, a living entity of root, bark and decomposition. To look directly at it was to invite madness, a type of madness that would stride in through the front door of the house of your mind, devoid of chips or munchies, with immoral designs on your two-four of cold ones and your blossoming daughter of thirteen. Ghatanothoa. The Usurper, God of the Volcano, one of the Great Old Ones, become human, an amalgamation of power beyond our imagination and the twisted desires of man.

"WE.... KNOW.... OF THE STONE.... INDEED..." it commanded from a thousand mouths, each one inside Gabriel's head.

"...AND NOW...IT IS THE... ELDERS... WHO SHALL KNOW... MY ONION PRISON..."
 
Scarlet Fever said:
Shane stood up from his bed, and walked over to his desk.
"I won't let you do this to me again," Shane said to his stapler. "You have failed me for the last time."
The stapler looked back at him, with an evil glint in its handle. It saw an opportunity. It leapt up and stapled his lower lip to his chin.
"I don't need you any more! I'm leaving!" the stapler exclaimed

you dont have to use this if it doesn't quite fit.
Click to expand...



((That was better than the whole story itself.))
 
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