NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=383868 because the RP bled to death I just make a new thread!

IC:
Yanislav grew nervous, still no police or the army. Not even helicopters of the press. What could have happened? He walked around through the building, to the attic, to the classrooms, to the offices and down into the basement. Inside the basement, a soft, childish and most sad soft sound of crying was calling. Like sirens luring seafarers into traps, the crying lured Yanislav to the chamber where they hid themselves.

The door wasn't locked but barricaded by tables, chairs and other junk. With one firm kick the door swung open, showing the terrified children. You could almost see the blooding flowing away from their faces, pale of pure fear. Yanislav said nothing, he only pulled the pin from a grenade and threw it in the room. He took shelter and the only thing he heard was the loud blast, when he looked again he saw blood splattered on the walls, floor and ceiling, limbs blown to the wall and intestines also stuck on the wall, smoldering.

It was time to end this once and for all, Yanislav thought. One small push on the little trigger. And it was what he did, the walls bursted into flames and the shockwave blew out all windows of nearby buildings, the collapse of the strong pillars took down the building, burying all living, half dead and dead humans under tonnes of debris.

Another soul has been liberated.

OPEN MESSAGE TO MOMANGUISE
'Today you have witnessed the power of us, and we will show more of ourselves in the future. Be careful where you tread.'
-G. Costinack.

In the moment that followed the explosion silence reigned. People themselves had passed to darkness, blood flesh and bone come to dust on the wind. Chaos had come before, and most likely would rule the consequences after the passing of the storm. Now, however, on the blood sodden ground, all that remained was a peaceful silence.

It was never to last. Under the normal street bustle, the wail of a siren is unnoticed and ignored in the throbbing counterpoint, but onto this perfect silence it broke as a titanic wave onto a peaceful shore. It would take weeks to rob the tomb of this unholy place, remove the broken corpses of the innocent from the guilty ground. Whether it was to be found in the tears of the once parents, in the calls for bloody revenge, or in the streams of blood that mixed with the virgin rain, anger and sorrow convulsed through the nation as a fire to timber.