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Offline genocidal king  
#1 Posted : 07 April 2010 08:35:06(UTC)
genocidal king
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All from the perspective of Blood Of Wecz frontman Scott H - Around a month or so ago

...It had been a long day at Dime Studios in Edinburgh. We were around halfway through the recording of our 15th album, and I was feeling pretty stoked, if a little tired, that it was all going so well. Ryan and Mark had finished laying down the guitar tracks, and we had sent Santi off to London to get the drum tracks finished, my part was still to come.

I returned to my apartment in Oswald Street, Glasgow, at around 12.10AM, having got the last train from Edinburgh. Entering the apartment, I had kicked off my shoes and grabbed a cold one from the fridge. Falling onto the sofa, I had grabbed the TV remote and slid back to see what was worth watching...

...I must have fallen asleep, because a while later I heard a small tap on my fifth floor window. Startled, I awoke from my sleep, and, naturally, darted to the window. As I looked down into the street below, all I could see was the odd taxi heading down Argyle Street and past Central Station...

...I returned to the sofa and turned the TV to the music channell "Scuzz" which just happened to be showing our wierdly funny video for the song "Repentance". I pulled a smoke from the pocket of my jeans and put it in my mouth. Searching for a lighter I was unaware that I had accidentally muted the TV. As I looked behind the sofa, a soft bang on my front door sent me swinging towards it. I ran forward and thrust myself towards the peep hole...

...Looking through, all I saw was the elevator doors close, and the dial above the elevator start to show the downwards arrow. "What the fuck?" I said to myself. I walked back to my lounge and turned the TV off, before going to the kitchen and grabbing a match. As I lit my smoke, another, much larger bang came, again against the front window, looking onto Oswald Street. I dropped my smoke from my mouth with a mixture of fear and rage, and careered into the lounge...

...As I reached the lounge, I was greeted by a huge crash, and a large rock came flying through the curtains, accompanied by shards of broken glass. I ran to the window, and thrust my head out, looking to the street below. All I saw was a small figure, around 5'3 in height, dressed in jeans and a blue hooded sweatshirt, and it was running away from my apartment. I watched it as it ran underneath the old rail bridge and toward Jamaica Street, before I turned back to my lounge...

...I looked at the shards of glass littering my floor and shook my head. I started to head towards the kitchen to get a brush, but as I did, the rock that had smashed my window caught my attention. "What in the hell?" I wondered, as I noticed it had a note tied to it...
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Offline genocidal king  
#2 Posted : 08 April 2010 12:13:41(UTC)
genocidal king
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..."Shit!" I thought to myself as I looked at the rock, note hastily tied to it. I started to walk over towards it, edging my way closer and breathing heavier as I did so (although in hind sight, I dunno what I thought was gonna happen, was it going to fucking explode or something?)...As I reached out for the note, a buzz and a vibration near me sent me flying into the air, letting out a gasp of pure terror...

...I pulled the vibrating phone from my back pocket, and saw "One missed call...Unknown!" For a second I just looked at it, still frightened half to death by it going in the first place. As I stared blankly at it's screen, it started vibrating in my hand again. I looked at the screen, "Incoming call...Unknown!" Who the hell was it? If any of my friends called they'd not hide their ID, and who the fuck else would call me so late?

...I reached my forefinger forward slowly, and grudginlgy pressed the "Accept call" icon. "Hello..." I said, as macho as I could, but what came out sounded like a mere whimper. All I could hear at the other end was heavy breathing. I listened closer and just above the breathing I could hear the scuffling of rubber soled shoes on wet concrete. I immediately guessed that it must be whoever had been at the apartment, and from this I drew a certain courage...

..."Look! Who the fuck are you??! I screamed at the phone...no response, "Come on, be the big man! Who the fuck are ya? Eh? Come on|! Fucking Speak you horrible cunt! What the fuck were you doing here?..." I continued to scream long after the line had gone dead, but to be honest, I can't really recall why I was so mad. In retrospect, I think the line went suddenly dead at the mention of the person who had been at my apartment...

...By now I was in a cold sweat. I pulled my white tshirt over my head and fell backwards onto the sofa, breathing heavily. I was genuinely scared, but my brain was all over the place...


...then I remembered, the note! I got slowly back to my feet, steadying myself on shaky legs. I walked over to it and picked the rock up. I carefully untied the tiny piece of paper that was attached to it. I threw the rock through the hole in my window and listened as it made a satisfying thud on the street below...I carefully unfolded the note, and was shocked to read, in scrawled handwriting, obviously in blood

...BLOOD OF WECZ...
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