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External and internal violence
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Prologue #1
The battle had been lost. She knew it before she even opened her eyes. She could feel pain all over her body and felt the familiar sensation of cold air on open skin. She tried to raise her arm but it was trapped under something. With what strength she had left she pulled. Her arm came free.
Her eyes fluttered open and she immediately had to stop herself from screaming. In front of her was the corpse of her lover. Patches of his hair had been torn from his skull along with the flesh it was attached to. Portions of his skin had been ripped off revealing bone and muscle. She raised her hand and gently stroked what remained of his cheek. He felt cold. She could feel tears running down her face. Her one love, her only love, dead.
She forced herself to turn away from him and sat up. She could now see the extent of her wounds. She had a long gash from her chest to her hip. She watched as the blood poured out. The bright shimmering green, once characterized as beautiful, looked sickly as it spewed out of her.
As her senses returned she realized she couldn't feel her legs. She squinted to see in the darkness. Her legs had been twisted and broken, and were facing an awkward angle. It made her ill to look at them.
She focused on the rest of the room. The once great halls were drenched in blood, trickling down the walls and forming large pools on the floor. The room, once bright, was bathed in shadows and blackness. Then there were the bodies. It was difficult to see in the dark, but they were there. The corpses of her allies littered the floor. They were mangled, mutilated, and barely recognizable but she could have named each of them. They had been her council, her friends.
She tried desperately to move but she couldn't. He...
... middle of paper ...
... hid it well.
“You need to die too” he said slowly.
All of a sudden she was terrified again. She felt something hold her down as the black figure approached. She felt the cold metal of the gauntlet on her skin. Then the Black figure moved his hand and she felt the icy tips pierce her neck. She barely had time to scream as the figure ripped her throat out.
The Prophet watched, unmoving. The girl's aura was fading, as was common for her people. Her pupils lost their emerald green color and changed to milky white. All signs of life faded. She let out a singular breath that did not require air. She was breathing out her life essence. A bright green vapor left her lips, twisting, curling, dancing and then it was gone.
He shut her eyelids and then turned to leave. The stench of corpses, and the low rasping of the Black Wraith accompanied him to the door.
A quick vision of death smote her soul, and for a second of time appalled and enfeebled her senses. But by an effort she rallied her staggering faculties and managed to regain the land.”
“... she could not walk for a week... They looked like drowned feet, swollen and boneless, except for the colour. They looked like lungs.”
In the roaring twenties, the life of organized crimes was at its peak. What was the greatest mob hit ever pulled off in history? Well I'll tell you. It all happened on Valentines Day, the morning of February 14th, 1929. This incident was call, "The St. Valentines Day Massacre". The man behind this infamous crime was none other than, the infamous Al "Scarface" Capone. Al Capone was the all time greatest mobster of all time. The idea of organized crime fascinates me in so many ways. Capone was the only person to have pulled off such a crime. Al Capone was top gangster in Chicago and was one of the greatest members of the Italian Mafia and George "Bugs" Moran was the leader of the Irish/German mafia and he was the main target behind this hit. He targeted Capone because Al Capones had a bounty on his head, $60,000,000, and found George Moran as a threat. George was Capone's biggest threat of all. He needed to take him out quickly. (Al Capone, True Crime Story). Writing this paper will let me learn a lot more about this massacre. There is one question I would like answered, "Why hadn't Moran's crew made an attempt to fight back?" (Al Capone, True Crime Story). Moran's men had a long history of being violent with others. This is one question that we will never know. My most used source on this essay will be internet information and a book. I feel these sources will give me the most amount of information. Using a magazine will too but it was very hard to find a 20's magazine article.
She talks about how it starts with a pain in her breast and a jolt in the heart. It quickly goes from there to a describing how her mouth becomes dry and how her tongue sticks. This further escalates to her feeling a fire beneath her skin. This fire causes her to lose sight and her ears begin to ache and "roar in their labyrinths" (Matthews/Platt/Nobel 46). From this fire, her body develops a cold sweat, and she starts shaking. Proceeding this, her body the becomes "greener than grass" (Matthews/Platt/Nobel 46). After this vivid description of anger and envy her body enters a state of numbness that she describes as "I am neither living nor dead and cry from the narrow between." (Matthews/Platt/Nobel 46). This masterful ordering of words has painted such a clear picture of her pain and reaction to
Throughout history, events are sparked by something, which causes emotions to rise and tensions to come to a breaking point. The Boston Massacre was no exception; America was feeling the pressure of the British and was ready to break away from the rule. However, this separation between these two parties would not come without bloodshed on both sides. The British did not feel the American had the right to separate them from under British rule, but the Americans were tired of their taxes and rules being placed upon them and wanted to succeed from their political tyrants. The Boston Massacre would be the vocal point in what would be recognized, as the Revolutionary War in American history and the first place lives would be lost for the cost of liberty. Even though the lives were lost that day, eight British soldiers were mendaciously accused of murder when it was clearly self-defense. People who are placed in a situation where their lives are threatened have the right to defend themselves. History does not have the right to accuse any one event those history may have considered the enemy guilty when they are fighting for their lives.
The Rape of Nanking, also known as the Nanking Massacre was a six week period when mass numbers of Chinese men and woman were killed by the Japanese. Embarrassed by the lack of effort in the war with China in Shanghai, the Japanese looked for revenge and finally were able to win the battle. The Japanese moved toward the city of Nanjing also known as Nanking and invaded it for approximately six months. Even though the people of Nanjing outnumbered the 50,000 Japanese, they were not as masterful in warfare as their opponents. Chinese soldiers were forced to surrender to the Japanese and the massacre began in which around 300,000 people died and 20,000 women were raped. The Japanese leaders had different methods of killing that were instructed to the soldiers. However, the prisoners of this “City of Blood” soon found their liberation and their justice was served.
She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over...
She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked safe with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead.
The woman was able to see it as well, which affected her more. She scurried back and forth trying to prepare this meal for them, and it became more evident that she desired to please them. Abruptly she kneels down and grabs her stomach. She was in searing pain. The anguish was all over her face. The woman was quivering on the floor of the stage, and reaching out to her brothers for help. Instead, they walked around her devilishly smiling. It was almost as if they were enjoying seeing her wreathed in pain. In this moment, the only motive the woman had was to live. She kept reaching for her brothers still innocently hoping they would save her. They continued to walk around her, devilishly
I stared at her unmoving body as we entered the room. She was passed out and peacefully lying in the hospital bed. What I noticed right away was the fact that her appendages and face were very swollen and discolored. Otherwise, she still looked the same with her curly and short cut, white hair. Machines surrounded her bed and crowded up the space of the room. They made a lot of noise and I avoided them for fear of accidentally tampering with them. However, I noticed how they added some weight to the situation. Scanning them over, I realized just how much the hospital had to do to keep her alive.
Crouching down towards the body I turned her around so that she was lying on her back. Her throat was slashed and her face unrecognisable. There were no distinct facial features that could be identified except the pale blue eyes full of fear that pierced my soul. Her white blouse was soaked in blood, the strong metallic odour seeping into my nostrils. Scanning her figure, I examined the pockets of her black business trousers and laid her purse and mobile phone on the floor beside me.
She's not sure what came over her at that minute, she doesn't even remember what she was thinking. But she does remember jumping on him, and knocking him to the floor, and then taking her knife and plunging it in and out of his back. She had no recollection of what happened for the next 10 minutes, perhaps she blacked out, but when she finally stood up, she knew what she had to do. She walked out to the garage and got a tarp down off the shelf. Her father used it to cover the wood pile, but she figured he probably wouldn't notice it was gone for a while. She took the tarp back into the kitchen and rolled the body on to it, checking to make sure that she didn't get blood onto anything that would be noticeably stained. The large pool of blood on the floor would be a problem, but she'd take care of that when she got back.
As she got up off the floor to make her way to the restroom she felt broken. Broken into a million pieces that could never be put back together. She looked into the mirror and
No one in the whole classroom knew what to do. Because William felt guilty, he walked up to see if she was okay, but the results made everyone shudder. Laying on her face was a note, it said “look at the sky.” Her skin was pale, and her eyes were rolled back. Her blood ran cold, and she was definitely not her normal self. She was...dead. William dropped to his knees and took a slow and long breath. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he rubbed them trying to make the tragic sight change. Once he eventually realized that there was nothing for him to do, he turned his head to show his classmates of what has become of Margot, but when he turned around, he saw something even
OUCH! My leg crippled with pain. I tried to shuffle my way to the window, but it was excruciating. As my senses kicked back in, I felt pains shooting up and down my body. Peering down at my hands I screamed. My hands were covered in cold, congealed blood.