Painted Faces
  • Reads 635
  • Votes 28
  • Parts 11
  • Time 1h 23m
  • Reads 635
  • Votes 28
  • Parts 11
  • Time 1h 23m
Ongoing, First published Jun 09, 2012
Buised and Scared, Shipwrecked and stranded. The young teens from a very high class private school find them self stuck on an island in the middle of the ocean after their ship smashed into some rocks just off the shore from a massive storm. a lot of people were either thrown overboard or MIA (missing in action) they have to make due with their resources they could find or could gather from the wreckage as time goes on it seems their hope of rescue keeps dimming. teams form, territories are called and in the midst of all this there seems to be some fishy activities causing problems at base camp. just as things couldnt get any hairier they have to protect their little "home" of an island and each other from the clutches of some....Pirates. you guessed it this happened to be a band looking for a new home for their tressure and new crew members. can they save each other? can they get home? can they even survive the first round?
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Slide 1 of 10
The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew cover
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Sunkissed Serendipity  cover
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The Saint Jones [Completed] cover
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Wrong Impression cover

The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew

33 parts Ongoing

The boy had never been scourged by dread, not really, untouched still of startling agony to become his reality. He spotted the imposing cliffside meaning to change that by mere accident, kept in defiant remembrance still of this heavenly music descended upon Earth from Heaven, magnificent, majestic and entrancing, this blue ship which had came last night to conjure mystery and great brilliance vibrating with splendor and glory born, like summer sunshine brought unto gloomy night, unlike anything ever heard of. He paused in thought to look at what was dangling from these rocketed walls, instilled immediately by mortal agony. What encountered him there was awful, horrific, spun from his nightmare to turn to atrocious truth. They left a message for him, these strangers, a message for all mankind. All the people from the town were nailed on the colossal rock with obsidian spikes the size of fists, hidden in the darkness as horror always lurked there within. Blood, everywhere. The spikes ripped skin open, tore their bodies apart to let it be a grotesque image, the self-portrait of Death itself. Stiff pale limbs, grossly tangled together, a myriad of heads decorating empty space. A few mutilated legs and arms lay motionless on the bottom of it, of the mere terror, the waves had yet to reach and clean the crime scene, crimson rocks and red sand carnation furthermore. The details swam and blurred his view. He was thankful, for a glimpse sufficed a lifetime. When the dark ship came, it didn't only warn the people of the Destruction following behind, they carried it themselves, bestowing it willingly and with intent, purpose, unknown and arbitrary as it may seem regardless. People rumored among their crowds that they were in fact the cause, the real Bringer of Death. The Harbingers of Cruelty. The Black Squad, Side of Doom. Known perhaps better by their most famous name, the Skeleton Crew. _ updated irregularly, because life is hard