joker jr.
04-24-2008, 05:57 PM
I was in a Japanese-looking house, paper walls, sliding wooden doors, etc. with my family(of which I had never met any of) across a bridge, to another house much like it. In the house across, was our rival family. I somehow knew what I had to do when my little brother(Somehow I knew he was, though again, I had never seem him before.) gave me a hatchet. It had a black, foam-rubber grip on the handle, painted red about 2 inches up from the grip and red on the back of the head. The whole thing as about 10 inches long.
I gripped the hatchet tightly and walked out of the house, as it began to rain heavy and the entire area acquired a dark blue tint. I walked across the rickety, wooden bridge to the neighbouring house, slid open the side door and barged in. Just inside all the walls were wooden and there was a Mexican-looking woman, about 30, standing to my right.
I swung the hatchet at her and try to hit her in the head. I hit her in the shoulder once, pulled the hatchet back and tried to hit her again, this time in the chest. It didn't work. I shrugged it off and pushed her to the side, she seemed to act as if I was just a weirdo walking by on the street.
I walked the opposite way down the hall where a kid, about 11 or 12, was sitting on top of a wall furnace thing. I pressed the hatchet to his left jugular vein and pressed hard, then slid the hatchet across his neck hard to the right jugular. It didn't do anything. I pushed him back into the wall and went around a corner where there was a bright green and white kitchen straight ahead.
I walked down about to it then suddenly an Indian man wearing a turquoise turban came around the corner fast, my face almost colliding with the side of his. Again, I took the hatchet and tried to hit him in the head. All it did was smack him like a light hammer. He punched me in the face, so I smacked him with the hatchet again and pushed him to the ground. I ran into the kitchen and tried to find the knife drawer. Incidentally, the first one I opened happened to be the one. I took out a large, smooth knife(By smooth I mean no teeth), and ran back to the man in the turban. I plunged the knife down and stabbed him in the leg, then as I tried to pull it out again, I woke up.
Later that day I realized that the man in the turban was one of the guards at a local Wells Fargo.
I gripped the hatchet tightly and walked out of the house, as it began to rain heavy and the entire area acquired a dark blue tint. I walked across the rickety, wooden bridge to the neighbouring house, slid open the side door and barged in. Just inside all the walls were wooden and there was a Mexican-looking woman, about 30, standing to my right.
I swung the hatchet at her and try to hit her in the head. I hit her in the shoulder once, pulled the hatchet back and tried to hit her again, this time in the chest. It didn't work. I shrugged it off and pushed her to the side, she seemed to act as if I was just a weirdo walking by on the street.
I walked the opposite way down the hall where a kid, about 11 or 12, was sitting on top of a wall furnace thing. I pressed the hatchet to his left jugular vein and pressed hard, then slid the hatchet across his neck hard to the right jugular. It didn't do anything. I pushed him back into the wall and went around a corner where there was a bright green and white kitchen straight ahead.
I walked down about to it then suddenly an Indian man wearing a turquoise turban came around the corner fast, my face almost colliding with the side of his. Again, I took the hatchet and tried to hit him in the head. All it did was smack him like a light hammer. He punched me in the face, so I smacked him with the hatchet again and pushed him to the ground. I ran into the kitchen and tried to find the knife drawer. Incidentally, the first one I opened happened to be the one. I took out a large, smooth knife(By smooth I mean no teeth), and ran back to the man in the turban. I plunged the knife down and stabbed him in the leg, then as I tried to pull it out again, I woke up.
Later that day I realized that the man in the turban was one of the guards at a local Wells Fargo.