Post by Judas on Jan 24, 2007 14:23:04 GMT 12
[*points* Can you tell my title-muse has run away from me?]
The horrid stench of death did not just lurk in the corners and among the shadows of Elwood’s room – it spoiled in there. And when Elwood’s door was open, it crept slowly out; causing Gargoyle Tower to be intoxicated with the scent of the very thing it was best known for – death.
Fortunately, the door was not opened often. It seemed the doctor enjoyed the privacy he could share with his patients when the way in was bolted shut. Pleasant conversations and small talk quickly turned sour when you were interrupted by a worthless piece of meat that could, sadly enough, talk. Ergo the gateway to his office was customarily closed shut, and all appointments with warm bodies were often postponed unless it was an emergency. Coincidentally, such rules were easily followed by the other vampires. They didn’t really question his logic and most of the time they obeyed politely, which was very nice of them, Elwood figured. Solitude was something he thoroughly adored, and he found it immensely kind of the population of Gargoyle Tower to let him savor it.
Most of Gargoyle Tower found it immensely kind of Elwood to keep his door shut, and he did… Most of the time…
There was the problem. His door was wide open today. If the vampires dared themselves to peer into the room, they would also find that his window too was wide open; wind was blowing in, washing the foul odor further into the tower, letting in run freely though the halls and slowly into people’s minds.
It wasn’t like he was just airing out his room either; he’d have cleaned up nicer had he been doing that. Frankly, the boogieman knew better than to leave his door open and his things out. There was no corpse on his table, which was good news for people’s stomachs; however, there was a nice pair of hands and feet on it, and a braid of hair. Blood was sticking to the floor; it needed to be washed off. His dolls were out – the ones fashioned to be the traditional, commercial voodoo. His insect displays were laid carefully on his bed; his jars filled with ‘samples’ for his ‘research' were all on the windowsill, and on his desk, in another jar was butterfly and camphor; the butterfly flapping wildly in its probable last hours. Had the blonde been merely ‘airing out’ the room, he would’ve put all these valuables away. He was smarter than that – Geist would take them.
Therefore, it would only make sense to conclude that something must’ve gotten the doctor a little off today. He wouldn’t regularly leave his abode in such conditions. He never forgot to close his door, and hardly ever did he leave his window open. Furthermore, Elwood would die before he let his patients linger within the reach of the barbarians outside his room – unfortunately Elwood’s death was mere wishful thinking, since God hated people and he would never give them such a gift. Something was bugging New Pork’s boogieman, something had gotten to him… That was clear to every vampire who was not necessarily near to Woody’s room; considering that as he slowly floated through the halls, staring blankly at the people, he was obviously brooding about something…
Sad thing really – one of his patients had died…
The horrid stench of death did not just lurk in the corners and among the shadows of Elwood’s room – it spoiled in there. And when Elwood’s door was open, it crept slowly out; causing Gargoyle Tower to be intoxicated with the scent of the very thing it was best known for – death.
Fortunately, the door was not opened often. It seemed the doctor enjoyed the privacy he could share with his patients when the way in was bolted shut. Pleasant conversations and small talk quickly turned sour when you were interrupted by a worthless piece of meat that could, sadly enough, talk. Ergo the gateway to his office was customarily closed shut, and all appointments with warm bodies were often postponed unless it was an emergency. Coincidentally, such rules were easily followed by the other vampires. They didn’t really question his logic and most of the time they obeyed politely, which was very nice of them, Elwood figured. Solitude was something he thoroughly adored, and he found it immensely kind of the population of Gargoyle Tower to let him savor it.
Most of Gargoyle Tower found it immensely kind of Elwood to keep his door shut, and he did… Most of the time…
There was the problem. His door was wide open today. If the vampires dared themselves to peer into the room, they would also find that his window too was wide open; wind was blowing in, washing the foul odor further into the tower, letting in run freely though the halls and slowly into people’s minds.
It wasn’t like he was just airing out his room either; he’d have cleaned up nicer had he been doing that. Frankly, the boogieman knew better than to leave his door open and his things out. There was no corpse on his table, which was good news for people’s stomachs; however, there was a nice pair of hands and feet on it, and a braid of hair. Blood was sticking to the floor; it needed to be washed off. His dolls were out – the ones fashioned to be the traditional, commercial voodoo. His insect displays were laid carefully on his bed; his jars filled with ‘samples’ for his ‘research' were all on the windowsill, and on his desk, in another jar was butterfly and camphor; the butterfly flapping wildly in its probable last hours. Had the blonde been merely ‘airing out’ the room, he would’ve put all these valuables away. He was smarter than that – Geist would take them.
Therefore, it would only make sense to conclude that something must’ve gotten the doctor a little off today. He wouldn’t regularly leave his abode in such conditions. He never forgot to close his door, and hardly ever did he leave his window open. Furthermore, Elwood would die before he let his patients linger within the reach of the barbarians outside his room – unfortunately Elwood’s death was mere wishful thinking, since God hated people and he would never give them such a gift. Something was bugging New Pork’s boogieman, something had gotten to him… That was clear to every vampire who was not necessarily near to Woody’s room; considering that as he slowly floated through the halls, staring blankly at the people, he was obviously brooding about something…
Sad thing really – one of his patients had died…