Wow , scary! Love the wood floor personification or whatever you call it. Too much blood for me tho. 
*Dies of awesomtude*
"Cupcake cupcake cupcake; Cupcake. Merry_Mint is the best." - Abraham Lincoln
Nice opening.
Please give us more!
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
((Hey guys, this is pretty much the first long story I have ever considered writing. It details the life story of my main character Rithas [Virtue], written like a first person narrative. I think this may also be my first post on the board...err anyhow, this is part one of his story, lemme know what you all think =D ))
History of a Nightmare: Part One
I think back now...now that I have awakened...back to the day when I was a boy, when my parents were murdered in the house I was born in. Every memory as vivid and real as the day it happened. The quiet footsteps, old hardwood floor creaking ever so slightly under the weight of our unwelcome guests. The door to my parents bedroom whining quietly as it is moved prematurely from its nightly resting place. Then explosions...but not loud, silent...as if someone had clasped a hand over the mouth of a screaming warrior, about to drive metal into the skull of his opponent. I knew my parents had been killed by these men...I did not know why at the time, but I could feel thier souls being torn from thier bodies...into an eternal suffering.
The hardwood spoke again, 'they are coming your way' it said. So I hid...half heartidly in a corner, in a shadow, wanting to be discovered and removed from the misery that had just overtaken my existance. They entered, but my door was much more disturbed by thier intrusion, offering a loud warning to the one who would be sleeping. Reaction was swift as the men quickly raised thier weapons and unleashed seven lead demons into my bed. One of them approached the mound of blankets cautiously, as if afraid that the child they expected to be under the comforter would still live. I was afraid now, wishing I had picked a better place to conceal myself, but there was nothing I could do now other than be still, so very still as not to breathe. The soldier near the bed quickly removed the blankets, careful to keep his gun pointed to where my head would rest. When nothing but a ruined mattress was revealed the men immediately began searching the room. Closet, under the bed, in my toy chest, all of these places were searched, but I was right there in the corner, wide eyed, not blinking, not breathing...they had seen me a thousand times over, but it was as though they seen nothing at all. Convinced I was not in the room, they proceeded to scour the rest of my home. It took them less than sixty seconds to search the house, though to me, it was an eternity. Perhaps because I had not taken a single breath in some time....perhaps because when you are staring your imminent death in the face, even a second can seem a thousand years long.
Only when I was convinced that the mercinaries were gone, did I allow myself oxygen. As quick as the air came in, it was gone, expelled by the heaves of my silent sorrow. Then...the first of a series of changes took place, as I layed in that dark corner of my room, my tears mixing with the dust soiling my face. Sadness, sorrow, and pain twisted and warped within me and became hatred, rage, and strength. With that...I brought myself to my hands and knees and made my way to the room now inhabited by the two corpses that I used to call mom and dad. Upon entering the room, I crawled to the left side of the bed, my mothers side. I made my way along the length of the bed, stoping suddenly when my hands found themselves in a puddle of luke warm fluid. I did not have to look down to know that my hands were in the blood of my mother, but I did anyhow, and as I sat in that cold room, staring at the crimson that coated my hands, I vowed that the next time my hands bathed in blood, it would belong to those responsible for the bloodshed in my home on that night.
((To be continued later, depending on commentary =). Any tips on story writing/telling would be appreciated greatly as I am a complete amature to writing. Thanks for reading part one ))