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the wet spot


Inactive Members
The near horizontal rain continues pouring with no indication of slowing. An occasional streak of lightning illuminates the twisted trees that surround the house. Wind stirs the clawed branches that appear to seek entry into the dilapidated structure.
The camera gradually sweeps from the front of the house towards the side. A swaying tree temporally obstructs the camera as it moves towards the house. It immerges from the other side, stopping just outside a window. Pennywise sits at a vanity staring at his reflection. He's talking, to whom you do not know. Lightning strikes the tree outside the window causing a brilliant flash. All is white...
You are now inside Pennywise's room. Standing behind him you can see only his reflection. The visage before you is clearly the dark side of PW. The image speaks to him...
"Go to her, and bring her to us. Down here we all FLOAT! Muhahah!"
Over his evil laughter you hear the clown seated before you respond...
"As you wish... my Master"
Pennywise stands and exits the room. The visage suddenly stops laughing and looks directly towards you. His clawed hands without warning clutch the mirror frame, his face draws closer until it seems it's no longer in the mirror. His thick red painted lips part barring big pointy teeth...


Inactive Members
<lets out a yelp, then quickly covers mouth, hoping noone heard that>

Good show, Navic! The whole first person camera shift had me a bit confused <scratches head>.. do they um.. have cameras in Yserbian times? :p Nice little scare scene though, I think Tater wet himself hehe.

<claps enthusiastically>

they alll float down heeerrre!!


Message for Upgrade
I disagree with you Shoehorn.
Navic's so called "camera" perspective takes away from our own imagination! Instead of allowing us to paint a visual, he's bloody doing it for you. If this "camera" thing catches on, then one day there'll be a bunch of brain dead boobs blindly watching a story.
Across the pond we have a real horror show story-teller. Name of Fredal Cockhitch. He doesn't tell you the specifics and every detail of a horror story. This allows our very own demons, residing in our nogg'n, to paint the picture. What's scary to one person, may not be for another.
<takes a drink and lights another smoke>
Say Tater, would you be a good chap and change your thong.