Mercenary of Death

 How far would you go when it comes to someone you love? What are you ready to sacrifice for that person?

    This is a story of:
A team that is falling apart.
A Leader who forgets how to lead.
A liar that has nothing to lose.
A fighter who is chained inside.
A trickster with way too many secrets.

  Can they face what’s coming together?

 Can they trust each other after all that had happened?

  Should they?

 Can they go past their lies, betrayals and secrets?

  Or will they find themselves… all alone?

   The game is simple: Kill or Be Killed.
And it’s on.

Working on Mercenary of Death

    Mercenary of Death started as a role-play between me and three other girls (or maybe four? I think three) but we never got to finishing it. I had almost forgotten about it until one day I was cleaning my computer and I stumbled upon it. I read it in a single sitting and while I did cringe a bit at my level of writing and the weird, often illogical and over-dramatic turn of events I saw something there. Potential.

   So I got to work. I had to re-write 80% of it since I wanted to keep my role-play hero story and make their story the main plot line. Then I built brand new backgrounds for all the supporting characters, devised a new plot line. I did keep the killing and the team part and the same number of characters but I tossed pretty much everything else.

    But this is not the same story then, you will say. You’re right, it is not. But we can get inspired by anything and everything, by music or looking at a picture or staring at the wall or just hearing a snippet of conversation that can give you a dashing idea. That’s what a writer is – to make a story out of nothing (or something).

  This is a story about hate and revenge, about the degradation of morals and spirit. And at the same time is a story of love, of family and of hope. Don’t ask me how I did it. Just enjoy 🙂

Favorite Quotes:

“I thought…  that love would be the strongest emotion. Her love for her sister.” He whimpered.
“No.” Elizabeth only whispered but her words filled the room that had fallen silent. “It is not. Love is not the strongest emotion. Pain is.”

“Pain is the strongest emotion. And right now you can’t break me because I have never been stronger.”

“You brought food!” Anna exclaimed with disappointment. “But I cooked!”
“You’ve burned it again.” Katelyn said, flopping in the nearest sofa.
“I did not!” Anna snapped indignantly, stumbling down her foot. “Not this time!”
“No, really.” Katelyn finally raised her head and nodded towards the kitchen space. “There is smoke coming out of the oven.”

 

 

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