Creative Writing: The Incredibles

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The Incredibles ~ Jago Gallagher-Slavin Cobalt blue lights glinted in the eerie darkness of Syndrome’s mysterious labyrinth. It was a death trap. Engulfed in the shadows, the devil stood, his hair a flaming trident blowing in the gusts of forceful wind. He swaggered out from the gloom, with a menacing smirk streaked across his face, glaring vehemently into Mr Incredible’s eyes. Azure blue snakes gripped Mr Incredible’s wrists, absorbing all of his remaining strength, as he hung from the meticulously designed torture machine. Syndrome was overrun with lethal plans for Mr Incredible, and nothing would stand in his way to destroying him. “You sir, truly are Mr Incredible,” bellowed the arrogant beast. “I was right to idolise you. I always knew you were tough, but tricking the probe by hiding under the bones of another super? Oh man! I’m still geeking out about …show more content…

You sent out a homing signal!” A tempest of apprehension gushed around furiously inside Mr Incredible. “i… didn't know… about the homing device,” he muttered. Mr Incredible glanced over to see Syndrome’s assistant pushing the red button; then, in the corner of his eye he saw a dial pointing to ‘DANGER’. His heart skipped a beat as, once again blue and white lights flashed, taunting him. Syndrome was, again, grinning - wider and wider by the second. A cacophony of buzzes and flashes echoed throughout the mist. Mr Incredible groaned. He was in agony. “And now a government plane is requesting permission to land here,” snarled the monster. “Who did you contact?” His words were bullets. “I didn't send for a plane,” groaned Mr Incredible, still hunched over from the torture he had been through. He was exasperated. The savage snakes had obliterated him. Syndrome strutted over to his assistant, his talons clenched to his hips, “Play the transmission.” “India golf checking in,” muffled the rusty

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