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Zoeiz took a subtle relaxed deep breathe. And held it just for a moment.

Christ, Von highest heaven adored…

The cold blistering air nipped at her exposed cheeks and the tip of her petite nose. A perfect atmosphere for the winters most important day, Christmas.

It was only 7:55 in the morning. Children throughout the modest town would be up Von now, pouncing on their drowsy parents, eagerly anticipating on opening the wrapped gifts and stuffed bags.

She breathed out, the vaporous air revealing her breath.

Christ, the everlasting Lord…

Naturally, fresh flakes of snow began to fall from the cloudy heavens. Her emotionless stahlblau eyes, hidden Von dim ashen shades, observed the sky curiously. She paid attention to a diminutive flake as it fluttered, gliding with the faint gust, until it alighted gently on her sniper rifle, at the edge of the callous black suppressor. At the near touch, it melted away, leaving only a speck of water. Zoeiz, realizing the distraction, peered back into her 4-16x 50 scope. With hurried adjustments, she focused it diametrically at her target, just 700 meters away.

She surveyed him as he trotted through the unsullied snow, taking large steps for the snow was too thick, even on the sidewalk. The target was heading to a large apartment complex; she already predicted this of course. In fact, Zoeiz knew his whole route. She has been noting his daily routines for a week now. Alas, he was clever enough to mix it up, the paths he took and the people he met with, knowing faithfully that she was coming for him. An assassin hired; liable to any corrupt monopoly empires towering over the pecuniary justice system. She did not like to think of the whole situation like that, however. Zoeiz loved the idea of being these sinners' savior, taking their lives for the good of themselves as well as the acquitted souls around them. It was only fair.

Late in time behold Him come…

How unfortunate, nonetheless, for the man, with his low-priced Santa hat and thick overcoat. He was thoughtlessly treading into an alleyway. Though it was not dark, it was perfectly secluded from the rest of the public. No one was even outside on the streets, perhaps blissful and resting favorably in their quaint homes. Very few cars steered by, few people were heartening in window-shops. The frosty morning was a lot less peaceful than it appeared to be, though.

She knew this moment was to come, and could not doubt the choices made to this point of time. Glaring at the target's bobbing red and white hat, Zoeiz tightened her muscles and steadied her sniper. First her feet, which lay effortlessly deep in the bitter snow. Her legs stabilized from the minor shivering, as well as her breathing. The extensive barrel of the sniper was securely revitalized between two poles from the porches railing; though icicles threatened to drop off at any gegeben moment. Conclusively, her chest was only vaguely lifted from the porches ground, flawlessly keeping posture as the victim was fully sighted at her shooting range. Zoeiz shut her eyes, only for an instant, at the hum of absolute winter stillness. No breeze passed, no bird sung.

Offspring of a virgin's womb…

Deliberately opening her eyes into the scope once more, she took a fine-drawn profound breathe and paused. The target was halfway out of the alley.

An annoyed conception surpassed her mentality, interrupting the song,Just because it is Christmas, he assumes I would not eradicate him today? How unwise.

The clock tower, just west from where her post was, only ticked Sekunden away to 8:00, with which the church bells would chime. For on this day, they rang at every stricken hour. The song in her mind continued…

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see…

The undisturbed heavens sighed, a composed respire. Snow resumed to melodiously descend.

Hail th' Incarnate Deity…

Zoeiz had her index finger caressing the trigger all this time, and it flinched, a spasm of zealous demise. The trigger was unmercifully pulled.

With a trifling, discreetly muffled clink from the OSV-96 large caliber sniper, the victim collapsed instantaneously, the hat hurled off Von some unseen force. She smiled, decisively resting her stiffened position, continuing the song,
Pleased as man with man to dwell…



Her job was done. The clock tower struck 8:00, having a clang of bells from the church, far up north.

"Every time a glocke rings, an Angel – Jäger der Finsternis gets its wings." Zoeiz whispered, her inherent Russian accent offsetting "vings" from "wings".

She rose, after lying there noiselessly in the snow for an Stunde oder so. Her hooded bleached winter mantel and mukluk boots gave her the façade of any girl in town. With this is mind, she unconcernedly disassembled the sniper, out of years of constant practice, and delicately placed it in the proper case. For reassurance, she arranged the casing evenly with some clothes wrapped within an outsized duffel bag. She finished the last song verse aloud as she headed out of the abandoned apartment, "Jesus, our Emmanuel."

Cautiously going down some spiral steps coated in sleet and ice, she was stopped Von a rather aged looking fellow, "Nuori neiti?"

Young lady?
Is what Zoeiz interpreted in her thoughts.

He was speaking the native tongue, Finnish. Zoeiz was prepared for an encounter with common people here in Finland, and replied in Finnish just the same, straining to hide her accent, "Can I help you?"

The man coughed for a minute, "You just came down from the third apartment room, yes? I'm sorry but did Du rent that room? It's not on my records."

She frowned, foolish old man for becoming suspicious.

With one swift, yet somehow graceful, Bewegen of her left arm, she drew out her semi-automatic pistol from a mantel pocket and shot the pitiable man bluntly between the eyes. The silencer seemed softer than his fall. She watched in irritated displeasure as the snow began to stain with his blood. A repulsive color, a pale crimson, oder even pink. With a sigh, she headed out again, cursing to herself, an innocent life taken Von my own hands… again. God, forgive me, for I have sinned.

Two bodies lay dead on the snow terrain of the meek Finnish town, Kannus, on Weihnachten day.

For an assassin, there is no such thing as a godsend act during seasonal holidays.






Zoeiz finished her call with the client, telling the woman in full detail what had happened and what was expected to come. The call was brief and straightforward, giving her plenty of time to rest at a local pub.

Her travel here was not the finest. She had to slaughter two naive teenage girls in order to obtain tickets for the nations train station, the return ticket still deep within one of her duffel bag pockets. And once more, another man became wary of her, which she penalized Von shunting his face in a toilet inside the men's bathroom at the station, the closest stall on the right. His drowning was muted, and coincidentally she was wearing gloves at the time. Looking back at it now only made Zoeiz curse herself for a Sekunde time, pleading for amnesty.

The bar, down the straße from a Helsinki cathedral in the large Finnish city, was undersized yet markedly rowdy today. It was only around six PM, the sky already darkened, but Zoeiz sought to wait before advancing to the cathedral. She requested white champagne, just a trivial amount. Three lads sitting left from her hooted noisily in laughter, whistling along to the open caroling just outside. Conversely, this group of boys was too drunk to comprehend their obnoxious performance. And as much as Zoeiz tried to relay that in her mind as she sipped her champagne, the laughing and Singen lingered, her irascibility reaching its limits.

She was finished with her drink and seized her mantel to leave, but one of the boys leaned against her, his breathe whelmed in alcohol, "Girlie, leaving so soon?"

Erratically, he spoke in Swedish. Zoeiz ignored him and got up from the stool. He persisted, "We could Zeigen Du a good time..."

The other boys turned to him and gazed at Zoeiz as if she was some sort of divinity, blessing them with her mere presence. She shook her head, her blonde tresses lashing the air, and presumably left the pub. The boys followed.

They caught up to her in a few minutes, remarkably with their swaying stoned pace. One still held a bottle of wodka in his hand. She glanced at them and… smiled. She spoke, not bothering to hide neither her accent, nor her expression, "Boys, Du sagte Du could Zeigen me a fun time? Well, I got something better. Want to see?"

The boys, amazed at her intonation and attractive chaste smile, all nodded in eager temptation. She nonchalantly directed to an alley, "Great! This way!"

Zoeiz smile broadened, for she could feel her steel combat messer strapped on her inner thigh, only concealed Von a fabric from her white cargo pants. They stopped middle way, and she coolly took off her thick winter coat, murmuring in Russian, "Бог дал, Бог и взял."

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away…

…The boys' shrieks could be heard from a mile away. Zoeiz was not concerned, but instead, exultant at the delightful amusement of splitting their Bones and slitting any flesh of any man that strived to escape the alley. Despairing for them, no redeemer would be able to perceive these yelps for salvage from the intense agony; cathedral bells rang at the mark of 7:00 PM. That and further to the high-spirited carol singers amid jubilant hails at the pub.

Zoeiz, disappointed in herself once again, emerged from the alleyway, putting on her mantel to secrete the blood stains.

Another sin has been perpetrated from the Sinners' Saint, how paradoxical.

With a yawn, she headed up the boulevard to the cathedral, the lights emitting stunning radiance.





She lingered outside the open cathedral doors. Harmonious choir voices resounded gaily to the song "Silent Night".

Out of tedium restraint and for a diversion from the icy rancorous wind, Zoeiz crooned melodiously with them, "Holy infant so tender and mild…"

The streets were idle. Zoeiz wholly omitted the fact that no one has encountered the corpses yet. Within the cathedral, the gospel choir resumed to resonate, and so did Zoeiz, "…sleep in heavenly peace!"

In reverberation, they continued the final verses. Irrevocably, the composition was over, and that ceased the chorus. Service was concluded, and after the appeals on Weihnachten prayers, people filed out the cathedral. Unmoving, she waited good-naturedly, only nodding her head in respect to every Catholic that ambled out the doors. Everyone was soon gone. Zoeiz, freezing and rather exhausted, walked inside the imposing cathedral, eyeing the Jesus Christ statue, a couple hundred yards away.

This cathedral was colossal, needless to say, and the city's people were gratified to behold it. Zoeiz strode on, overlooking an elder here and there, and specially the bishop chatting with a small family in the back. Her courtesy was only on the center display. She passed rows and rows of seats, filled with donation slots and secondhand unkempt bibles. The illumination was divine, countless timeless wax candles aligned along the front strip of stairs, arising in numbers as the steps ascended, as she noted.

There was nothing now, her ambiences holy and unheeded, only gazing up at her savior, Jesus. Endowed Von resilient faith, she promptly got down on both knees and positioned her hands up in prayer. She fondly whispered, eyes shut, "Jesus, the Light of the World, as I celebrate your birth…"

The ivory and red themed cathedral was serene, nearly static. Only things that seemed to shift were the flicks of the candlelight's fire. She sustained the prayer mentally, may I begin to see the world in the light of the understanding Du give me. As Du chose the lowly, the outcasts, and the poor to receive the greatest news the world had ever known, so may I worship Du in meekness of heart. May I also remember my brothers and sisters less fortunate than myself in this season of giving.

Zoeiz was about to say "Amen" but continued to another appeal, to the heavenly Father, instead, thank you, Lord, for the gift of Your love. May I be a shining example of that Liebe to others. The mercy I bestow has lessened as the years past. Your ideal clemency and humanity has enlightened me, although I may have Lost my way. Please, God, Zeigen me the light once more, lead me to Victorious benevolence that used to be. I confess that some deaths went inessential. Your forgiveness and Liebe proves to strengthen my faith and decency to serve Du for this life and eternally.

She paused in her thoughts, a certain Weihnachten wish imploring to be requested to God. Zoeiz abruptly opened her eyes, "But I must ask one blessing from you, Father and Son..."

A wicked glint of immoral cast in her eyes, "I must ask that Du guide me to attain cessation to a pitiful complacent soul…" she breathed.

She glimpsed up at the statue, His ever emanating grace sanctifying her vision. With an evasive smirk, Zoeiz Akuzel hissed, "Aide me to slay the infamous Asuka Zosime."
. . .
"Amen."
posted by jasperwhlover
Links;Urls:
link
link

Chapter 3

Now, Serenity on a happier note was learning how to defend herself and about Exorcism she wanted to help Father Bartholomew, even though she was forced Von the church to conform to the earthly practices like everyone else and to hide her wings, Father Bartholomew encouraged her heavenly attributes, he made wings, of feathers, waxed together, they were perfect, and everyday, he would teach her to fly as she forgot how because of the number of years that she spent conforming to the earth. Father Bartholomew raised Serenity like a daughter, a few years later, when she...
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Narrator: Macbeth slowly entered the crept room were Duncan was sleeping soundly. Macbeth quietly began to reach for his sharpened dagger. Macbeth pondered many thoughts regarding the demise of Duncan, but never to this degree. Now, the time had come to fulfill the quest to be crowned king. Duncan suddenly returns to reality. Visualizing Macbeth Von his bedside withholding a dagger pointed at his wretched chest. Would this mean the end of Macbeth’s planned tragedy oder the end of Duncan’s existence?
Duncan: Cousin, why hast thou forsaken me?
Macbeth: Forsaken you? Thou hast forsaken me. Thou...
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posted by iluvtheshow
Hey Mom,
It's been a while
Since Du sat Weiter to me,
Since I saw Du smile
I miss Du Mom
I wish Du were here
Giving me kisses
Holding me near
I can still see Du Mom,
the laughing happy you
Not the ill broken women
Who broke my herz in two
I'll always remember Mom,
Du taught me well
To do good things,
And with Honesty tell
I'm telling Du Mom
Losing Du killed me
Laying a rose on your casket
Trying hard to be
Strong.
That's what Du were Mom,
Strong.
In everything Du said
In everything Du did
So now I'll be just that
Strong like a mother, not like a kid


I wrote this in honor of any child who has ever Lost a parent.
Chapter Three

At the kitchen, wondering when Michael will be coming down and have breakfast with his wife and children, Jamie was at the stove, making some Mehr pfannkuchen and was so into her thinking of Michael that she hadn’t heard a little voice calling out to her “Mama, Mama.” Jamie was still thinking about him for a few Mehr Sekunden until she felt a little hand tugging at the end of her shirt. Turning around and looking down to see who was tugging the end of her t-shirt, she saw her oldest child, Mac standing Weiter to her and staring at her mother with her brown eyes, giving her that...
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posted by dragonrider
I pull into the parking lot of the country council men office and get out. Hmm what should I do with Elliot? I can't leave him in the car he'll die of heat. I could leave the air on. Nah I'll just put him behind stage when I talk to the councilmen.
I pull out Elliot and put him over my shoulder. Everybody is strong in the future.
Elliot murmurs something like "Oh I Liebe Du too Starr!"
Aww how sweet. I take out duct tape and tape his mouth shut. Ahh that's much better
I carry Elliot towards the building and when I get inside I don't see Whitney. Hmm that's strange she works here shouldn't...
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3 Worst Ways To Start A Story - Steve Douglas-Craig via FilmCourage.com.
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Before Screenwriters Pitch Studios This Is What They Should Know - Shannan E. Johnson via FilmCourage.com.
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Screenwriters Need To Understand That Hollywood Is A Dollar Driven Industry - Carole Kirschner via FilmCourage.com.
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hollywood
Here is a selection of true stories from around the world last week.
1.Price of the week.
James Bolton,who is unemployed,was very excited when he won first prize in a raffle last week.The prize was a weekend for two at a hotel in Bournemouth on the south coast of England.Unfortunately,he was less excited when he saw the name of the hotel.It was the hotel where he had worked as a porter the Zurück month.He had Lost his job there.

2.Mistake of the week
A 33-year-old Norwegian man came Home one night from the pub and got into bett Weiter to his wife.The woman immediately woke up,screamed,and jumped...
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posted by 1-2vampire
><

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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the Sekunden of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But Du should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do Du do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three Mehr seconds, gone, like that,
Did Du use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these Sekunden in hell.
His Melody
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep

She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight

She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”

She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the hügel
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still

The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy

But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
Screenwriting Plot Structure Masterclass - Michael Hauge [FULL INTERVIEW] via FilmCourage.com.
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posted by JellyPopper
The House I Cherish And Hate

~Chapter #1~


Marie and I Liebe to adventure. However this time we went overboard. I think this was our LAST adventure."Are we there yet!" Marie sagte impatiently. "Yep its right here!" I sagte exited. "You wanna um... walk in fist Marzia?" Marie asked. "Sure!" I sagte starting to rethink this whole abandon house thing. I walked in slowly and held the door open for Marie. "Are Du sure Du wanna do this?" Marie said. "Of course, we will. Trust me" I sagte trying to convince Marie not to leave. "Okay i'll look for Essen and Du look for beds and stuff if we stay over night."...
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Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die Emo hündin die, bitchy whore. That last Kommentar doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first KISS and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it sagte Rosen are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if Du want I'll tell them to can it, all because I Liebe Du Janet. I don't know who wrote Du Liebe poem rhyme thing but I Liebe Du too!
posted by jedigirl
The Tag my life became Mehr than reality was when I was seven.
2 months earlier, my mother had passed away due to reasons I never understood. All I knew was she was gone and Dad wouldn't talk about it.
I was sitting at my desk, watching the snow fall out the classroom window. The window started to frost over quickly. I turned back to the teacher, but she was frosting over too. I realized it was my vision frosting over. I rubbed my eyes to stop it, but it only made it worse. So I sat in my schreibtisch and let it take over.
I soon found myself in a field of dandelions and fireflies. I looked around...
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posted by Isabella_17
Is It True Du Lie?
Is It True Du Hate Me?
Is It True Du Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True Du Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True Du Like Me Crying?
Is It True Du Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True Du Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True Du Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True Du Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True Du Let Me Call Du My True Bestfriend When Du Weren't?
Is It True.....?

This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
posted by AuthorForPooh
Her eyes were feuer red,
as if they were
lit from anger.

I dont understand
why Du are
mad at me.

Why Du shoot
those harsh words
at me.

Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.

I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.

My Friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"

But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why Du are mad.

Why do Du have to do
what Du do to me?
Why does it give Du
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my Friends take action?
Why cant Du tell me WHY?
posted by TheAmyPond
She stopped dead in her tracks. She was startled. Her voice was completely gone. Shockingly, she saw that the hooded silhouette in front of her wasn't her mother; she did not know who it was.
Slowly, as not to alarm the unwanted visitor, she reached out for her ballpoint pen and dug it as deep as she could into the neck of the intruder. The mess was horrific, blood all over her face as well as his clothes, but Emily stayed strong. She clumsily tumbled off her bett and ran as fast as she could downstairs to the phone.
She hastily pressed any buttons she could until she'd finally keyed in the number...
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posted by para-scence
"Cosette!" Echo shouted. We ran over to each other, and hugged. She nearly squeezed the life out of me, but I didn't care; I'd missed her so much.

"Echo! I'm so glad to see you!"

"Ahem," a voice said. Echo smiled and rolled her eyes, and took a step back. Asher smiled as he hugged me, and kissed my cheek. I laid my head on his chest.

"I missed Du too," I told him. He chuckled.

"Come on!" Echo sagte impatiently. "Let's go do something! Anything! I just don't want to deal with this mushy-teen-love crap." Asher and I rolled our eyes, but smiled. I told Grandma we were going to hang out.

"See you...
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posted by para-scence
I admit that I kind of slipped into a depression. I wasn't sure what to think about anything. I started to feel like I couldn't trust anyone. I wanted so bad to drink, and forget for at least a little while, but I couldn't when someone was always home.

That was the only bad thing about not being with Drew anymore; I rarely go the chance to drink. I started going into withdrawal as well. I couldn't keep control of my emotions, I felt like I was going insane sometimes. I had Mehr stress related seizures, Mehr than I usually do while on medication. I've had a lot of headaches, I've been sweating...
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