May. 29th, 2009

call_me_snake: (Died)
Has your muse ever had a thought so dark, so macabre that they never dare share it with anyone? Conversely, has anyone ever made a vile threat towards you muse out of anger, frustration, honest to God malice?


Plissken read the paper twice, three times then glanced at the television. Robertson had signed the directive. He scowled at the man giving the speech.. He was the bastard who had families killed. Taylor’s, Remhe’s, Hauk’s and his own. Fury built until Snake’s whole mind became numb and cold.

“You’re going to die son of a bitch.” Snake growled to himself as he got to his feet. He had a president to kill but this wasn’t going to be an assassination. No, Plissken planned on tearing everything from him a piece at a time starting with his pretty little girl.

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call_me_snake: (Default)
Snake Plissken

September 2013

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