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literature
Enter BeatFreak.
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Literature Text
A peculiar looking girl roamed the streets, earphones in, hands in her jean pockets. She seemed oblivious to the world around her as she walked on with closed eyes, fazed by nothing.
The teen wore worn, baggy jeans, orange Converses with matching orange goggles, fingerless striped blue and orange gloves, and a black, baggy t-shirt. Her blue hair was disheveled as always; the short length making her appear boyish. Music blared from the iPod nano in her pocket, yet by her lax, calm disposition it looked like the noise was nothing to her.
Suddenly, she stopped in front of an alley, violet eyes behind her goggles open and alert. Down the alley there were two people fighting: one a muscular, tall man, the other an almost equally built, slightly shorter man. The two were exchanging blows, kicking at each other – basically, fighting to the death.
"You've gotta be kiddin' me," the girl muttered under her breath as she walked towards the two. Through the music blaring from her iPod – Speed Over Beethoven by Rose, she caught the swear and threats the two were yelling at each other. With a nonchalant shrug, she walked up to both of them and tapped one on the shoulder.
The first man, the taller one, ignored her. "Excuse me?" He didn't even turn around. The petite female huffed in annoyance, then walked over to the shorter man. "Hello? Helloooo?" Once again, no response.
With her lips pressed into a tight line, the girl easily grabbed both men by their shirts, pulling them down so they were eyes level with her and yelled directly in their faces, "STOP FUCKIN' FIGHTING!"
Both sets of eyes widened as a dumbstruck expression appeared on the males' faces, until one's eyes narrowed and he finally spoke. "That bastard owes me money."
"You totaled my fuckin' car!" The other spat. "You're not gettin' any damn money from me!" He reached for the other, trying to swing at him, but the girl wasn't having any of it.
She warned them once but they didn't listen. Now those men were going to pay.
Effortlessly, the small girl rammed their heads together. "WHY are you hitting each other?" She did it again. "WHY are you hitting each other?" Then again, repeating the question each time. The men squirmed in her grasp, but it did them no justice; as the beat in Speed Over Beethoven sped up, so did her bashing. The music seemed to feed her energy, and each knock grew more vicious, stronger. Finally, when both males' foreheads were bloodied and they were undeniably unconscious she tossed them to the ground, leaving them in the alley as she walked away.
"Dumbasses."
All in a day's work for BeatFreak.
The teen wore worn, baggy jeans, orange Converses with matching orange goggles, fingerless striped blue and orange gloves, and a black, baggy t-shirt. Her blue hair was disheveled as always; the short length making her appear boyish. Music blared from the iPod nano in her pocket, yet by her lax, calm disposition it looked like the noise was nothing to her.
Suddenly, she stopped in front of an alley, violet eyes behind her goggles open and alert. Down the alley there were two people fighting: one a muscular, tall man, the other an almost equally built, slightly shorter man. The two were exchanging blows, kicking at each other – basically, fighting to the death.
"You've gotta be kiddin' me," the girl muttered under her breath as she walked towards the two. Through the music blaring from her iPod – Speed Over Beethoven by Rose, she caught the swear and threats the two were yelling at each other. With a nonchalant shrug, she walked up to both of them and tapped one on the shoulder.
The first man, the taller one, ignored her. "Excuse me?" He didn't even turn around. The petite female huffed in annoyance, then walked over to the shorter man. "Hello? Helloooo?" Once again, no response.
With her lips pressed into a tight line, the girl easily grabbed both men by their shirts, pulling them down so they were eyes level with her and yelled directly in their faces, "STOP FUCKIN' FIGHTING!"
Both sets of eyes widened as a dumbstruck expression appeared on the males' faces, until one's eyes narrowed and he finally spoke. "That bastard owes me money."
"You totaled my fuckin' car!" The other spat. "You're not gettin' any damn money from me!" He reached for the other, trying to swing at him, but the girl wasn't having any of it.
She warned them once but they didn't listen. Now those men were going to pay.
Effortlessly, the small girl rammed their heads together. "WHY are you hitting each other?" She did it again. "WHY are you hitting each other?" Then again, repeating the question each time. The men squirmed in her grasp, but it did them no justice; as the beat in Speed Over Beethoven sped up, so did her bashing. The music seemed to feed her energy, and each knock grew more vicious, stronger. Finally, when both males' foreheads were bloodied and they were undeniably unconscious she tossed them to the ground, leaving them in the alley as she walked away.
"Dumbasses."
All in a day's work for BeatFreak.
Here she is! My anti-hero, BeatFreak. The spunky, loud personality that bursts from such a small girl makes me love her as much as I do. Originally I was just going to give her supersonic hearing, but then I thought "What the heck?" and tossed in a tint of super strength.
So...yeah. As usual, all comments are welcome(except flames)! Let me know what you think!
So...yeah. As usual, all comments are welcome(except flames)! Let me know what you think!
© 2010 - 2024 Nyatta-chan
Comments12
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HAHAHAHA!! XD I love the "STOP FUCKIN' FIGHTING!" line. I was laughing my ass off!
And, I think if she smashed their heads together that many times, they would probably be dead ._. Oh well!
And, I think if she smashed their heads together that many times, they would probably be dead ._. Oh well!