So this week we return with yet another thrilling installment of Snowflake. As we dive deeper into the mind of Poison and the world of Snowflake we find ourselves with a new player on the stage in this week’s chapter. So now behold the next installment of Snowflake!
-Snowflake chapter 4-
There was a jewel maker, his name was Sforza and he was old, probably the oldest member of A-Soul. The jewellery he forged with his hands were so beautiful that Poison himself said that his jewels were not worthy of this Earth or the hands of the greedy and rich. Sforza was not a sickly old man and on this day, a fine spring day, he sat with his friend Uncle Leong playing a game of Chess while some of the younger artists of A-Soul quietly watched his game and examined his preliminary sketches in his great library of his own work.
Meanwhile, Antonia and her sister were being tortured by their older brother in their basement. They had been repeatedly raped by other members of the cartel on the orders of their supposed brother who was the new leader. The old man had many children and within his group he had a collection of his own children doing his dirty work and dirty little deeds for him. This new leader was much crueler than the last but he was into loyalty and he was very loyal to his father. After the old man died, the bounty on A-Soul was dropped and members were slowly pouring back into the streets of the city above the basement the sisters were in.
On this fine day Sforza with his great wisdom lost to a man of even greater wisdom and accepted his defeat. Uncle Leong graciously won his game and left after some tea and a good discussion of philosophy for the afternoon. On this fine day was the day that Sforza would begin his last great creation, The Snowflakes. A cold wind whipped in through the window of his home and he looked towards the east, where the wind came from, and he felt weak, he felt that his time was coming soon but not tonight.
Antonia and Michelle were bloody, battered and pale in the basement that now belonged to their older half-brother. They had been deprived of food and water for days now and were on the verge of death. Everything was a blur to them and they were now being dragged somewhere. They were being taken to a large shower, they smelt food, it was stale but it was still food. The stale bread was thrown into the shower and then they were too, they immediately dragged themselves to the bread and began to gorge on the meal of stale bread but their mouths were still parched and some of their wounds still fresh when gushing hot water was turned on and all that could be heard were screams. Their sadistic brother was watching them but they did not care. He was a tall blonde gaunt man, his coral green eyes stayed fixated on them as they writhed and twitched in pain. He was right at the shower door and he took pleasure in their screams as he called a whore to begin to suck his dick as he listened and watched them scream.
Meanwhile, Sforza was now looking sitting out on his deck. It was night and Uncle Leong had long left, many of the other A-Soul members had come and gone for the day and it was now night. There was a cold wind that night as Sforza sat down and sketched his final work in progress and the old man shivered as the wind whipped him, why he didn’t just simply go inside? Who knows, Sforza was a knowledgeable old man and he had many members who respected him more than Script, Poison or Spectrum and had sworn loyalty to him as his students. On this night he called to his most trusted student, an artist by the name of Enzo.
“Enzo!” the old German man called in his thick accent, “Come and see this” he said.
A tall young Brazilian boy came to him and asked “What is it that you need master Sforza?”
“Enzo, look at this, tell me what is it that you think when looking at it?” asked the old man.
Enzo looked at the sketch and his eyes widened.
“M-m-master Sforza, do you really plan on making this?” asked the boy
“Why the hell would I draw it if I don’t plan on making it boy!” Said Sforza and he hit the boy with the sketchbook and laughed. Enzo sighed and then left the old man to sketch once more.
“Master Sforza may be wise but he’s insane” Enzo thought to himself as he walked away.
And that was this weeks installment of Snowflake! Be sure to check The Infection again next week when we update you with more Snowflake. And now a word from Poison Apple, creator of Snowflake.
-A word from Poison-
So yeah, here I am, so many years later and I’ve finally gone and made my work more public. I remember writing this when I was a little older than 16 maybe…I look back on this and think to myself ‘what a sad little imagination’. I wanted to post the story in it’s original format because it would be disrespectful to the artist I was back then. Although we are one in the same person, I have to acknowledge that I have changed alot over the years and I no longer write like this, thus why I am unable to edit it since my ideas and way of thinking has somewhat changed. I remember writing this when I was going through some personal shit and back then I was very bad at expressing my emotions to others but it always comes out through my art. Still, for a byproduct of some minor personal problems I think that the story turned out well and now it just evolved into an entire world for me. I’ve grown a bit more since the conception of the world of snowflake and the world has grown with me. I could have simply introduced you all to Snowflake from where it is now but I think that it’s best for me to take you all through the world on the same path I went on until you reach me. Dont worry though, it’ll be soon when you reach me and get to the real good stuff. Keep me entertained!