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North Duke

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  1. (Again... in first person point of view) Watching carefully as the people moved throughout the new building, I do not know which women it is that will set me free. But the three that seemed to be some what together caught my eye. The first, a shorter women with dirty blond hair and a kind country flair about her. Her brown eyes full of a young womens interest and wonder. Dressed in a blue plaid shirt, blue Levi jeans wrapped with silver hearts of some kind around her waist, a belt perhaps, topped off with a pair of boots on her feet. The next female, another short women with blond hair, slender and sleek. With concerned green eyes at every turn, aware and alert. But it was not these two that seemed to make what little soul I have left wither with hope. The one who appeared to be there leader. A women in uniform blue, bearing a beautiful face with high cheek bones and a strong round jaw, stern if it need be, but so tender it seemed. Her blue eyes I noticed could shimmer from a warm welcoming sky blue to a northern winter ice with a moments notice. Her hair... it was her hair that seemed almost familiar, like I could feel its length and natural curl as I ran my fingers through it. Feathered around her face so beautifully, a face so welcoming... I growled at myself and tore my eyes from them for a shadow so much like myself, a firey shadow lingered close to all three women. A modern day cowboy, a wrangler perhaps, but a very strong souled being, every ounce of him a fighter with dark eerie eyes that did not match. A man larger then my once natural self, tall, but built like a bull, solid and feirce. By the looks of the thin line of his set lips and the scars on his face, he'd be quick to hook you with a horn and pound your guts into the ground. I smirked to myself, he would not make himself a problem in my path to these women that will set me free or he will join me. I curled my hand into a fist tightly, I had to see to it that these three somehow were to book rooms at the hotel. The drawing...yes... the drawing. They are all friends, if one were to win they would invite the others, but what were there names? The small one with dirty blond hair, I knew her name, the great great grand daughter of Jeeter Davenport from my day and life time. A good man, a good women, her name would be the one. So I waited, lingering near the drawing box, unseen by all the living. I found her name entry and when it came time for the Sheriff to draw, I saw to it that her ticket fell into his hand. (Cue anyone...)
  2. (Beware... this is written in first person point of view.) Soon... soon I told myself, my time of torment would be over, my lips curled into a wicked sneer as I watched all the people mingle beneath the archway down below. The warm autumn wind whispered over the roof, I could feel it ruffle my scruffy dark brown hair on the back of my neck then allow it to lay back down at the top of my shirt collar. The leather tie from the front of my tan shirt dangled as I looked over the roofs edge, it felt like it had been thousands of years since my arrival. Just knowing, hungry for that day that was coming, my last chance to leave this place. If I had nerves in my teeth they would have throbbed as I gritted them hard, but I felt nothing. How long would it be, how long would it take for the Hotel to fill its books for the first time. Quickly I... prayed.... the vacant rooms would be filled. My heavy leather chaps creaked as I rested a heavy boot on the concrete edge of the roof, my spurs twanged and jingled with the movement. The last of the people entered the hotel below and I closed my eyes and moved to the fourth floor. Landing myself right in the middle of the grand stair case I could immediately hear the people down below. I could feel there blood pumping through each of there veins. Hearts pounding in awe of the building, a shudder of hunger and desire swept through my body. How long it has been since I had felt that throb of blood, seen the spill of red over tender warm flesh.... felt the sear of pain from a wound. Quickly I swallowed away the thirst and moved down the stairs in one long step to wait. Hoping the next six days would be enough and be short lasted. My blue eyes glanced side long at the mirror at the head of the stairs, my lips tightened into a wicked grin. Again my spurs jingled as I moved forward coming before the magnificent mirror and gather my thoughts, concentrating hard as I reached out for it. But the mirror did not waver in reflection or change in anyway, no haunted pair of ice blue eyes stared back. A dull tingle came to my fingers as I took hold of the top of the mirror, baring hard on my teeth to deepen my concentration as I lifted it from the nail it rested on. Breathing in short breathes I turned towards the stairs and drew on my mind, putting it all into the effort of moving the heavy mirror. Then all at once I closed off that concentration, severing it like a finger in the path of a sharp knife blade. A flicker of feeling licked through my chest as the crash of the heavy mirror hitting the stairs echoed throughout the entire hotel. The shattering ring of the glass came to my ears in a wave, strong and steely. The broken glass spread over the velvet covering of the stairs like a spill of crystals, tumbling, down and down. My lips tightened in a smirk and I leaned into the wall becoming one with its hue. (Cue anyone.)
  3. name: North-Rex Duke weight: 170lbs hair: dark brown eyes: blue age: Just over 30. height: 6 foot even Scare on left cheek bone, vertically acrossed his face. Usually dressed in leather tan colored duster, faded blue jeans, black shirt, dark brown leather boots.
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