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[WIP] Grey Mist (Story)

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First, thank you all to that are going to read this story I plan on compiling. Unfortunately theres just some OOC stuff I wanna cover before I began writing. 1st: please keep this thread as clean as possible. I believe the story would be better, especially for those who pick up half-way through being told. If its a continuous stream of story. If you have anything to say about it, I'd rather you just pm me your comments. Secondly some OOC background that I believe is needed to know. This started out originally as the story I wrote for my whitelist, however, since I was poor at RP at the time of my whitelist, I could never RP just right as this character. It wasnt until I was going through old PMs that I found it, and thought I could make an interesting story out of it. Also, this character shares the same name as my current character, but I promise, they share no relation. Finally, heres the story I wrote up a year ago that started it all...

Audio log from crime scene:

"Do you wanna know why I go by the name Danny Grey?" A sinister man asks as he approaches his two victims. "You see, when I was a boy, and Momma was dying, I just had to know what it was like. That was me, not giving a damn about anybody else's well being, just wanted the answer to my questions. So, as she lay there, bleeding all over the floor, I asked her. I asked her 'Momma, what do you see?' And listen, listen here comes the good part. She looks back at me and says 'I don't know baby... everything is... grey.' And it really is quite funny to me now, just the whole situation really. And so ironically I started going by Grey. And do you wanna know why it's ironic? IT'S FUCKING IRONIC, BECAUSE THE LAST THING YOU'LL EVER SEE IN YOUR MISERABLE LITTLE LIFE, is the color... grey."

Report from Detective:

Danny Grey, a legend to most. Not the good kind of legend. The kind of legend that hides in your in closest and waits for you to get home so he can stab you to death. That kind of legend. Very little is known about how he grew up. The two facts that everyone can agree on is that his father abandoned him and his mother murdered. Now, no one really knows how she was murdered, they just know her cause of death wasn't natural. This guy, I assume he liked comics growing up because I swear he is like the worst villain pulled straight from the pages. All he is missing is a tacky costume. He was also NYPD's worst nightmare. Murder, Rape, Arson, Armed Robbery, Grand Theft Auto, Aggravated Manslaughter, Jay-Walking, if there's a law out there he hasn't broken I'll be damned. He so... manipulating, like everything is apart of some plan hes got. You never know, maybe he did wanna get locked up? Either way, we got him, locked him up, he pleaded mentally unstable, and was sent to an assylum. Just glad hes not here anymore.

-Detective Ventura

Report from a Cherno-Russian Asylum:

Patient 6892416 is different. He hasn't lost his brain, not completely. While he is mentally unfit for the outside world, he is not insane. I've seen his type before. He is an agent of Chaos, he is used to it. He is one of the most cunning and decieteful men alive. He can not be trusted. However, if you can gain his trust, your life expectancy probably gained about 50 years. He is a man who is good with words. He can inspire hope, or fear into his victims hearts. He is not your usual rob and kill everyone kind of thug. No he plays things by year, but be warned, if you do cross his bad side, death is almost imminent. BE CAREFUL OF WHO YOU TRUST WHEN YOU MESS WITH PATIENT 6892416, HE HAS WAYS OF TURNING THINGS ON YOU.

-Dr. Van Furdant

And now, without further a do, our feature presentation. Please sit back, grab a bowl of popcorn, and enjoy the show.

Its a dark Saturday night. Two men sit in an enclosed room together. One is hand-cuffed and dressed up in an orange prison jumpsuit. The other wears what appears to be a brown vest and some khaki slacks. The room is dimly lit, with barely enough light to see each other. There is a faint tapping heard, caused by the light rain following on the outside of the building that the two men are in.

So? You wanna tell me what happened?


You don't have to talk if you want to. Its ok. Although, I hope you didnt have any dates planned tonight.


Not much of a joker are you? Its ok, this conversation doesnt have to be very two-sided.

I slipped.

You what now?

I... (there is a brief pause as the man makes sure to clearly enunciate his words)slipped.

I don't believe Im following your point

Not much of a joker are you?

What the hell are you trying to say?


Listen I already called the wife, told her I had to stay a bit late tonight at the office, had some extra paper work to do. You know, she doesnt want to know what might go down tonight between us. Shes a real girly girl she is. She doesnt like the blood and the gore and guts, but me, eh, I dont mind it.

A look flashes across the detective's eye as he imagines the 'fun' hes going to have.

When you get home tell I her said hi.

Sure whatever, so lets go over this again. Tonight we found you stooped over next to two dead bodies. Each with multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. Weve already ran finger prints mathing the prints on the murder weapon to you. All we want to know is why?

The single light in the room begins to flicker a bit as the conversation drags on.

I told you. I slipped.

And king kongs my bitch. You mustve forgot to tie your shoes, after all you slipped 27 times right? Into 2 people. Its not unlikely, Ive seen it happen before.

The detective takes a closer look at the young man infront of him. He appears to be in his early 20's, but has a rugged look to him. He seems as a man who has experienced a lot in such a short time, but at the same time, has yet to experience much.

Who... who are you kid?

The detective seems a bit shocked as he realizes the prisoner's young age. He takes a second to recuperate himself and begins with the same witty cop routine as before after his prisoner fails to answer his question.

Obviously these questions Im asking are a bit too advanced for you. I can tell by your lack of an appropriate response. So well start with something more basic. Whats your name kid?

You wanna hear a joke? I promise you, its a real killer.

Does it involve you spilling the milk and perhaps crying over it too?


What not talking again? I thought you wanted to tell me a joke?

It was a yes or no question. Perhaps we need to "tone down our questions", as you cant seem to pull the correct answer out your ass.

Oh you wanna get smart with me eh?

With the flick of his wrist, the detective smacks the prisoner across the face, leaving a bright red mark that is hardly noticeable in the darkness of the room.

Dont feel too smart now do you?

The prisoner mumbles under his breath:

Why cant a dog, tell the difference between a black person, and a white person?

What was that, I understand you dont have full mental capacity. But not everyone has the hearing of Super-man. You need to speak up a little bit son.

The prisoner, looks up into the mans eye, holding a menacing look in his eyes.

Why cant a dog... tell the difference... between a BLACK...

As if on cue at the word black, the single light in the room suddenly goes out. Leaving the two trapped in darkness. All that is heard during this brief moment of pause is the sound of the two men breathing and the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the walls.

man and a white man?

Wh..wh... What?

A new sound becomes present in the room. It is barely audible, but is enough to inform the detective of whats happening in the darkness. After a couple moments he recognizes the sound of movement of the orange jumpsuit.

No, no, no no no no. What is not the right answer. Its a simple question really. A dog cant tell the difference between a white man and a black man because...


All they can see is...

There is a crashing noise as something metallic hits the floor


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  • 1 month later...

Sorry I havent been able to continue the story. Real life stuff has been getting in the way with much extra-curricular activities. But, heres the next segment.


The single light in the room flickers back on. Not much has changed. The detective is frozen in his chair, panicked at the sight of the missing the prisoner. He quickly scans across the dimly-lit room looking for any sort of sign of the prisoner breaking out. To his surprise, there is none. Everything seems still for a moment, as if there had been no prisoner in the first place. The detective begins to get up and head for the door when he hears...

Help. Ive fallen and I cant get up.

The detective looks across the table to find the prisoner laying flat on his back, still bound to the chair with a smirk on his face.

The detective breathes a sigh of relief as he realizes that everything is ok.

Wha... What... How the hell did you end up down there?

The prisoner gives a little giggle.

I told you, I fell, and I cant get up.

The detective pushes his chair out and gets up to help the prisoner back into an upright position. He comes from behind the prisoner, grabbing the chair and pulls him up. But almost instantly, the chair, and the prisoner, fall back over. Startled, and realizing something is wrong, the detective begins to back up and reach for his gun.

Dont you try anything now...

In an abrupt motion the prisoner kicks out the detective's legs and jumps up with the chair leg in his hand. He smacks the detective in the head with the metal leg, knocking him out cold almost instantaneously.

I promise sir, I would never try anything on you.

For a second, the prisoner stares at the detective, waiting for him to show signs of consciousness. All becomes quiet again, and in the background, the faint pitter-patter is still heard.

A couple second pass.

The prisoner, now fully aware of the detectives unconscious state and the sound of voices being heard coming from the hallway, outside of the door, quickly runs his fingers across the detectives limp body, grabbing his keys, his gun, and his phone.

The prisoner then stands up, and moves closer to the wall that the faint pitter-patter could be heard from. Within a couple seconds a hole is broken into the wall by 3 men with icepicks.

Boss you ok?

Youre 3 seconds late. A lot can happen in 3 seconds.

We know, its just that, it wasnt easy getting past the guards.

With all this mindless chatter youve now wasted 10 more seconds of my time. You know, time isnt cheap. And youve always have got to pay the price.

What'ya mean?

With a 1 swift motion, the prisoner shoots 2 of the thugs, and aims his gun at the third.

Gimme your clothes. Now.

The last thug, fearful for his life, quickly strips down and gives the prisoner a pair of blue jeans, an orange t-shirt, and a grey hat. The prisoner, not wanting to waste any more time, quickly changes out of his orange jumpsuit.

Once again the, single light flickers off, and the light coming from the moon isnt enough to see in the room.

A lot can happen in 3 seconds.

3 seconds later.

A team of police officers storm into the interrogation room to find 2 dead bodies, an unconscious detective, and a man in an orange jumpsuit handcuffed to the table. There is a large hole in the wall, and the prisoner is no where to be found.

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