Drake woke up in an alley. He could remember naught but three things. His name was Drake, he'd been very happy last night, and that he hadn't intended to spend the night in an alley. He shivered in the morning gloom, looking around in a vain hope to establish where exactly he was. He noticed a wine bottle by his left leg, empty upon further examination, a man about ten feet down the alley, lying slumped against the dumpster, two fire escapes, and a few grimy windows. A cold wind blew down the alley, carrying with it a terrible stench, and Drake pulled his coat more tightly around him. Drake walked down to the dumpster, if only because he could use it to block the wind. Once Drake arrived at the dumpster, he saw there wouldn't be room for him to lie against it the way the other man was slumped. The smell emanating from either the dumpster or the man was incredible at this distance. Drake resisted the urge to vomit. Drake considered attempted to move the other man a few inches over, to make room for his own spot out of the wind. Before doing so, however, he took stock of the other man and his belongings. The man appeared to live in the alley, probably hadn't shaved in weeks, was wearing a threadbare hat and thick coat, and had the rattiest blue jeans Drake had ever seen. Coming to the conclusion that waking this man probably wouldn't kill him, Drake carefully reached out , and nudged the other man in the side. As he did so, he noticed his hand felt sticky and wet. Drake, suddenly feeling very uneasy about his situation, chanced a glance at his hand. He hoped it was something innocuous, like water. Anything but what he thought it was, really. Luck, however, was not with him that day, for when he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. Drake couldn't hold back any longer. He vomited.
For the record, this is unfinished, but there's well over 20 pages written. I'll only be posting this story when I run out of other stuff to post. This story's my baby, and it's eventually going to take some trips to publishers.
And now for something completely different
Perigren. That's what it's called. The drug that destroyed the world. It's just a little pill. Who could have imagined that a little white pill, no bigger than a penny, could end the word? Yet, it happened. The world is over. Governments are gone, chaos reigns, and the only currency left is force. In this world, the strong survive. Well, the strong and the guys with the Perigren, anyway. I am Gil Handersen, and I might be the last sane man left.
Perigren. It started as a military experiment, something to give to soldiers with fatal wounds. Something that would allow them to defy death long enough to win the fight. The scientists got it figured out. I don't know how, but they did it. One little pill and it would become impossible to die for two weeks. In fact, the only way to kill someone on Peregrin is to destroy their brain. Almost like zombies, except these are still humans. Humans who have sold their lives for this power. The pills were quickly rushed into production, without even testing. The pills worked, though. Massive blood loss could be ignored while on Peregrin, burns were inconsequential. In fact, it was discovered that while on Peregrin, it was unnecessary to sleep, eat, drink, or do basically anything that was previously considered necessary. That's the story of the origin of Peregrin. Now it's time for the story of how it destroyed the world.
Perigren. It started as a military experiment, something to give to soldiers with fatal wounds. Something that would allow them to defy death long enough to win the fight. The scientists got it figured out. I don't know how, but they did it. One little pill and it would become impossible to die for two weeks. In fact, the only way to kill someone on Peregrin is to destroy their brain. Almost like zombies, except these are still humans. Humans who have sold their lives for this power. The pills were quickly rushed into production, without even testing. The pills worked, though. Massive blood loss could be ignored while on Peregrin, burns were inconsequential. In fact, it was discovered that while on Peregrin, it was unnecessary to sleep, eat, drink, or do basically anything that was previously considered necessary. That's the story of the origin of Peregrin. Now it's time for the story of how it destroyed the world.
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