#1 Contender Match-Up: brokenhal0 (5-3) vs. Scar (5-3) [BROKENHAL0 WINS VIA NS]

[Frank]

Season 11 XI

VERSES DUE: Sunday, June, 4th, 11:59 P.M. Western / 2:59 A.M. Eastern / 7:59 A.M. UK. 24 Hour Ext: Mod/Opponent Discretion

VOTES: Monday, June, 5th, 11:59 P.M. Western / 2:59 A.M. Eastern / 7:59 A.M. UK. 3 Vote Requirement Enforced/Penalty

MAXIMUM: 48 Lines: 64 IF AGREED UPON!

Goodluck! @brokenhal0 @Scar

TOPIC:

[brokenhal0]

64 max

[brokenhal0]

''Ethereal Flames:The Blizzards of Existence''



In the eerie twilight, where the shadows dance like specters,
At the hunter's lodge, ice refracts like glass, sand in frozen deserts.
A hunter's hands findin' warmth in the fireplace's burnin' embers,
Inside, the air is heavy, blurrin' your sensors, with the scent of aged wood and gunpowder.
Sittin' on his chair with an empty bottle of whiskey,
Head in his palms, repeatin' psalms, lost in contemplation,
He just witnessed a giant Bigfoot murder a wild grizzly.

His voice tremblin' with an unsettlin' uncertainty
Thoughts of unseen visitors plagued his mind purposely
His fingers fumbled nervously, shovin' a box of buckshot into his Benelli
A hostage held captive within his own home, prayin' that he aimed perfectly.

As the night deepened, an ominous presence lurked beyond the lodge's walls
The hunter's heartbeat quickened, echoin' like a distant war drum
dialing 911 as he tries to call, the signal's dead, so are all signs ahead
I can hear it's heartbeat pumpin' from behind the hall
A primal fear gripped his soul as he rolled a cigarette with pale shakin' hands
Glowin' eyes could be seen peekin' through window blinds behind where he stands.

Suddenly, the lodge's wooden door burst open, unleashing a chillin' gust of wind
That gust extinguished the fireplace and froze the hunter's skin
From the darkness emerged a towerin' figure, covered in matted fur
Stinkin' like rotting flesh mixed with fecal musk, the wind blew in snow and scattered dirt.

Hidin' behind a long window curtain, overalls, tattered shirt
Yearnin' for his demise, thinkin' 'bout his life as tears fall from his eyes
The beast is inside, a beast himself
Huntin' all the demons he hides
The first man to catch one alive, the light is dim as the mind grows grim
Knowin' the odds were slim that he survives.

As the Bigfoot creature emerged, darkness enthralled
The hunter sees its shadow movin' across the walls
Hearin' its shriekin' howls as it ravaged and raged
Ransackin' the house like a rabid animal trapped in a cage.

Furniture toppled, splintered like fragile hopes
Relationships we deemed fake, but in the present they seemed rather close
Facin' the truth in the form of a beast
The hunter couldn't help but look away as the creature revealed its face
Truth in the form of monstrosity ragin' in a room savaged and crazed.

In its fury, the beast knocked over a candle,
Causing the window curtains to engulf in flames.
This house, once a sanctuary, now dances with death on a macabre stage.
Jumping out of the burning curtains, the hunter shot first, hitting the Bigfoots legs.
Cherished possessions start to burn as the hunter runs away.
Getting near the door, the entrance is blocked, piled high with snow.
The snow was up to his waist, and the temperature outside was 33 degrees below.

With no way out and the fire closing in, the hunter was faced with an impossible choice. Trapped between the consuming flames, fueled by the unforgiving winter wind, he finally accepts the true nature of such predicaments, null and void. The fire that once threatened his life now seemed like a flickering salvation, giving into temptation, a brief respite from the numbing cold that would inevitably claim him.

In the midst of the harrowing maelstrom, reality takes an illusory twist. Brief memories took hold of the hunter's mind as they usually persist. The crackling flames transformed into beckoning arms, offering warmth and shelter from the barren plight. Dark snow falls on his shoulders as a Bigfoot drags it's paralyzed torso against the smokey floor during this frigid, tragic night.

Seduced by the burning woods' deceptive allure, he stepped back into the inferno for one last fiery embrace that would be his final refuge, stumbling over the last steps that he saw, as the billows of smoke started hiding his face.
As the house crumbled and collapsed under the weight of the flames, it took with it the hunter and the wounded Bigfoot, their fates forever ingrained. By the time the sun rose, an American flag covered in dust was all that remained.

A once tranquil sanctuary of death and game became a haunting monument of ashes, pursuing reminders kept relentless by heated, capricious forces, twisting the faith of all those entering the lower passage, sealing the destinies of those unfortunate enough to be caught in the grips of that creature's lonely actions. The hunter became the hunted, another story that ends with no winner, just another ironic twist of sadness. In the deepest bowels of winter, I hope you never feel the cold tempers of Teddy Roosevelt's bipolar madness...

[Frank]

@brokenhal0
WINS!