Disclaimer: I DO NOT, HAVE NOT, OR WILL EVER OWN THE CHARACTERS FOR THE FILM BLADE. HAPPY NOW?! Please do not sue I'm still broke because my lotto numbers won't come up.
Who is Blunt
Blunt stood on a low roof top, dramatically placed to catch the last rays of the dying sun. He looked out over the vast glittering spread of Los Angeles; the wide city twinkled in the red light until it looked almost alive. "I am a thing that has no name; I'm a creature of the night that loves the day. I scour the streets, looking for a fight with those whose hearts have no beat, and to think if I had stopped for ice cream then I would be nothing like I am today"
Ten years, two months, eleven days and I believe 12 minutes ago, is the day that Blunt became the 'man' he is today .
He was an average 14 year old teenager; the idea of girls was just becoming an overwhelming feeling. As he strolled back home from his friend's house he jammed his brown hands deep into the pockets of his faded jeans, playing with the loose change in them, and raising his head, whistled a cheerful tune. The soft melody hung on the summer's air, floating softly on the warm breeze.
The setting sun shone down on the dusty path he walked, casting long shadows. Blunt looked at his watch and scowled darkly, he was late home. Wonderful, he thought with dark sarcasm. I'm dead meat. Little did he know that he was about to be a lot later then he could ever have imagined.
The last rays of the dying sun stained the darkening sky, like ketchup stains a white shirt. A familiar cheerful jingle greeted Blunt's ears, and with a smile he turned to see the welcome sight of a white ice cream truck winding down the street. Sticking out a hand Blunt flagged it down and opening his mouth prepared to order his favourite. Only to be stopped by the truly horrifying sight that would scar his young mind permanently, something so terrible that it would be advertised in his dreams for years to come...
They were out of mint choc chip ice-cream.
His young hopes crushed under the hostile corporate takeover of Dark Chocolate, he turned sadly away from the gleaming van and continued to head for home.
As he turned into the park, two shadowy men followed him. One was tall and slim with a pink polo necked shirt on, attached to his belt was what looked like a dildo, but, in actual fact it was a rolling pin. The other was small and fat wearing yellow golf trousers.
Blunt passed a bench (that has no significance what so ever), and was so wrapped up in his depressed thought; that he failed to notice the two, oddly-shaped, black shadows stalking him. Which was rather surprising really, considering that they were making enough noise to wake the un-dead?
As he walked a little bit further than before he finally noticed the two men following him he turned round to ask them what they wanted, but as he did so he realised that, there was no one behind him, the mysterious men had disappeared.
He stopped talking as it looked like he was going insane, talking to thin air. Who's heard of such a thing? He slowly turned around to face the way he was going originally. But before he had even turned 15 degrees a rolling pin attached to a man's arms smacked him on the back of the knee caps. And as if that wasn't painful enough, Blunt fell to the floor landing on the front of his knee caps.
Blunt screamed in the highest falsetto voice a man has. Seriously his voice could have pierced a man from 500 yards with more accuracy than a highly professional sniper riffle, specially calibrated for the job. The two men over powered him, then raped him four ways from Sunday.
Thank you for taking the time in your life, to sit bored and read my chapter. Until I win the lottery please don't sue. Until next time.