A story based of another

I will be writing a story and updating when i can...so here is the prologue...

12^th Moon Rotation, ?? A.D

The Slave’s backs glistened under the harsh sun. The frayed ropes they pulled stretched with its burden, a sandstone block. The Slaves tormentors, or the Slave Masters made sure no one stopped, no one took a break, no one ran away.

“The Pyramid celebrating our empires great discovery is almost finished; it will last to the end of the earth.”
“That is unless someone finds it.”
“Who would look here?”
“You are correct my friend, let us eat to this great accomplishment!”

The two emperors dug in to the lavish meal set before them as they watched the slaves from a cool tent erected under a grove of trees. Exotic fruits and meat caught by the hunters were set upon wooden plates and the meal continued heedless that the discovery they had made will come quite close to destroying the world.
That night under the glow of torches and the pale glow of the moon, halfway hidden by dark, forbidding clouds, the pyramid was finished.

“The tomb is sealed, the powers of this discovery will never be found.”
“Well said my friend, no one except I will know.”
“Excuse me?”

The knife glistened in the dark, drawn from beneath the great emperors robes. It fell, once, twice, and a third time. A scream gurgled from the almost dead emperors lips.

“I’m sorry my friend it had to happen, no one must know.” He gazed down at the body, “remove it, then lets go.” 
Then, underneath the gaze of the still pale glow of the moon, the torches were damped and the warriors fled with their emperor to their ships, back to their ships, back to their desert land, back to their pyramids, away from this strange land. As they looked back they could hear the cries of the land they left behind, leaderless. Then they disappeared into the misty void never to be seen again.

Patriotism

Patriotism, does it still matter? What is it about? How is it important? These are the few questions that seemed to pop in my mind when our class was talking about it. Even though I probably know the answer I just can't help wondering about them. There might be different meanings for other people.
My thoughts on patriotism believe it does still matter and is important; but as always I ask the same question. But why?  Why does patriotism matter? Why is it important? Many more questions are unleashed into my mind that are about my answers. So why does it matter? Patriotism matters because it shows we care for our country. That we will got to war or fight for it in places all around the world. The army. The marines. The airforce. Even regular everyday people. We fight for freedom and love for our country. Patriots die for what they believe and some are wounded. Devotion to America, for freedom, and for others a safe haven. In some places people don't get our freedom. Like in places in south west Asia, girls aren't aloud to even go to school. But we can, because we fight for our rights and we fight for America. You can say I'm wrong, but I wouldn't care. Those are my opinions, and my thoughts. That you couldn't change my mind if you tried. This is what I believe is Patriotism.

"I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."

Running. The wind howled while the branches of trees whip out at me. Faster. I push my legs to go faster, stumbling over rocks and sticks. The pull. I can feel it, pulling me to the one place I dreaded the most. Slipping and falling. I'm covered in scrapes and bruises. Rain. It has started to rain and I'm all most there, I slip in the mud yet I keep going. Closer. I'm getting closer, the pull almost hurts. The wind stops howling, the rain calms down into a light drizzle. I walk to the edge off the forest, knowing I'm there. Slowing down and go past the trees, I can feel al the memories come back. It hurts so much. The pain. Changing my stride to a walk, i go to the middle of the clearing and collapse into a vulnerable ball. Memories wash over me like a giant wave, over and over again. The fire, the blood ,the pleas and cries for me to stop. I couldn't control it, I didn't mean to. Warm, salty water flows down my face. " I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT!!", I sobbed out. Ashes surround me, "I'm sorry Alec, mom, and dad. I miss you so much," I whispered. Its not my fault I'm cursed to control fire. That I was too young to know how to control and that anger provokes and fuels it. Like I said I am forever cursed with this power. Forever haunted with those memories of killing my own family. " I love you Alec, I'm sorry you will never live past 14, never be able to drive a car, or graduate and have your own family. I'm sorry…"

Roses, Violets, Hearts

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Summer is warm
And your heart is too

Yet the roses are dead
And the violets are frozen
The air has turn chilling
And my heart is now broken

A popular poem with a twist

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And so are you,

But the roses are wilting,
The violets are dead,
The sugar bowl's gone,
And so is your head.

13

Friday the 13th,
So much superstition,
It's just bad luck.

I'd watch who you're with,
He's always watching,
Awaiting his 13th victim.

Reporters talking about him,
He gloats in his evil fame,
Knowing they won't find him.

He stalks, like a black cat,
He is hidden in the shadows,
Stalking his victim.

Knife in hand, rope slung over,
What better way, than torture,
Laughing to himself.

No clues left behind,
He takes pride in his work,
To him, it's an art, to us it's horrible.

Each cut, stab, and slice,
Knowing where and so precise,
Watching the fear in their eyes.

Such terror, makes him crave more,
Screaming, crying, and then silence,
He can already hear it.

He grins his wicked grin,
A black cat crosses a lady's path,
Watching her reaction, he chooses his victim.

Awaiting the darkness of night,
Where the full moon is the only light,
He quietly stalks his prey.

She walks by an alley,
Another black cat passes her,
She freezes, he takes his chance.

Coming up behind her,
Covering her mouth with his hand,
Dragging her to his car, his 13th victim.

Gagging and bounding her,
He laughs at her fear,
Planning her death in his head.

He takes her home,
Ties her to his bed,
Leaves her there, waiting in fear.

An hour later, he comes back,
With a knife, sharp to the point,
She squirms and screams.

Laughing with pure enjoyment,
Stabs her 13 times,
Blood stains his bed.

Wrapping her up, careful to hide himself,
Throws her in the trunk,
Takes her to the dump site.

Friday the 13th,
At 11:59:59pm
His 13th victim dead,
His laughter haunts the people.

Outcast, wings, and a car

Sitting in the desk in the dark, back corner of the room with an evil grin. Nobody ever notices him, yet he can see everyone else. What he doesn't know is that somebody is watching him. The bell rings, he goes out in to the hall way to his locker, every one seems to be going in fast forward. He smirks, then suddenly stops when, in the middle of the crowd there is some one staring at him. He thinks that its not possible, he is an outcast, a loner, nobody ever notices him. He blinks then the person disappears, time to get to class. A few days later he thinks he has gone mad, almost every where he looks the person is right there staring at him, with its cold green eyes. He figured out it was a girl, yet it had wings and gold pupils instead of black. She has dirty blond hair and always has a pet wolf with here. He sees her again on the street and he can't stop staring at her, she then smirks evilly at him. Next thing he knows he hears this loud beep, but he can't look a way from the girl. The beep gets louder and louder, then he feels a sharp excruciating pain. All of a sudden his mind is growing black, like a picture when it is light on fire. His last vision is of the girl looking down on him.