Dreams and Nightmares (November 2008)

[narakunohana]

Quest Name:

Dreams and Nightmares

Format:

Singular (You make only one, non-interactive post that takes your character throughout the entire event.)

Reward:

+2 Experience Points
+1 Wisdom

Scenario:

At November 12th, A random group of hooligans had spilled a toxic chemical into PHS #259's water supply. It's effects? Hallucinations.

You suddenly fall to the floor in the middle of your afternoon lunch, and falls into a deep sleep. In that dream, you could see your past, twisted into something else.

Meh, your mind's playing with you. Not all of these are real! ... but maybe part of your subconscious?

We shall see.

That dream? Well... it was... interesting.

By the way, those idiots were suspended. D<

Requirements:

• A Minimum of 700 words. When you reach 600, you will wake up inside the school clinic along with the other victims. The other 100 is the aftermath.
  
• Consider this as part of character development. Feel free to have your character deal with the scenario as you please.
  
• Your character's dream could involve delving into his/her past, or an alternate scenario of something that had already happened IC. (ex. Emily turns to Mathew instead of remaining in Militia after the CF; or something like that.)
  
• If your post will contain events involving another PC, please ask permission first!
  
• Monthly Event ends on the last day of November. We will extend it for no one, seriously this time guys.
  

[Masaru]

Self-Therapy

[/b][/i][/center]

OOC: I'm guessing you meant 700 Words, not posts?

It was roughly a week or so since the correctional facility incident has passed, but it still haunted Masaru's mind. He tried to just keep a straight face in all the situations where someone mentioned cake, but it hasn't been working out. The cake man haunts Masaru in his dreams, and whenever someone mentions cake or anything that sounds like cake. Only a few days ago, Masaru found out by a mad Librarian, he was found screaming in a library after chucking a book labeled "Cake Secrets" at a poor old man. The elderly man then went to the library and asked her to bring Masaru to the hospital, but by the time she returned to where she asked him to be quiet, she found he was already being dragged out by someone else.

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."

Masaru muttered to himself as he was eating his ramen. He was in his room eating some of his home-made Ramen Noodle Soup. but this time, it tasted not as delicious and moist as it usually did... *whimper* Masaru just said the famous first words of the cake man... *shiver* As Masaru began to slurp up the rest of the Ramen soup, he found the world spinning around him. The next moment, he found himself in a dark room.

"...Hey, hey you! Yeah... you got a huge match set for today. But... the Warden was feeling a bit kindly." said an Enforcer with false cheer on his face. A few tazers whipped out, as his escort of ten others had their guns out, the speaker grinned, opening up the door, and pushing in a cake inside---before quickly jumping back out, and grinning. Then, the whole troop began to laugh.

"Hey, c'mon! Happy Birthday in advance! Try some cake. I assure you:"[/color]

OH NO!!! Masaru was in his nightmare yet again! Yet for some reason, Masaru felt a calm rush over him as he viewed his past unraveling before him yet again.

---"I'M SO DELICIOUS AND MOIST!"[/color]

As the cake man popped out of the cake, Masaru was glad to find that 'this time' the cake man was clothed... but was he? Masaru found that he had unconsciously mentally clothed him, something he did not realize he could do before this time. and also this time, he realized, he had Mastered his Qi and could follow all 7 movements of the after images. Now, which movement out of the 7 or so will this dude most likely use.

"Good judgment comes from experience, and often experience comes from bad judgment."

Masaru whispered, and then began to cross out the least likely things the guy would do. Since he wasn't fighting a rather intelligent opponent, Masaru found that most of the before-images were pretty easy to cut out, like rubbing himself, picking his nose, etc. Masaru glimpsed the beginning of a rush towards him as the images he crossed out disappeared for themselves. This was a pretty basic thing to counter. Masaru began to go into the Meotode stance, and, combined his knowledge of Dim Mak to trip the cake man, and at the same time, push two separate Pressure points at the same time, knocking him out.

"A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist."

Masaru said, and then, just as he was about to deal a finishing blow, a small voice in his head said:

"There is no revenge so complete as forgiveness.

Masaru walked out of the cell, leaving the cake man behind. Thus ending his fear of cake.

SNAP

Masaru opened his eyes, realizing he was in a school clinic. The clinic was packed, and even though its size was so huge, they still needed more beds and rooms to treat everyone.

"Ah, you have woken up. If you feel fine, would it be alright if we give your bed to another patient, who seems to not be as fortunate as you. We found you in your room as we were searching for other victims. Luckily, you thoroughly boiled your water, so most of the toxins in it was out by the time you consumed it."[/i]

A warm smile bloomed on Masaru's face as he thanked the nurse for her help, and sat in a chair in the waiting room, still slightly dazed.

"Life is the art of drawing without an eraser, and life must be understood backwards; but... it must be lived forward. You must live with what you have, and try not to make a mess of it by drawing scribbles over your mistakes."

At this, Masaru dozed off into a content slumber and dreamed good dreams for the first time in a while.

[Stu Pott]

Stu hadn't drank the water. No, he didn't go to school, remember? However, a man as demented as he has gone through many of the things that the other students were currently going through. So, it was no surprise that Stu himself had some vivid dreams.

In his dream, Stu awoke to find himself standing within the city he currently inhabited. However, the city was twisted, buildings dilapidated, their proportions out of whack in a way that no building could hold. The building roofs loomed over Stu as he walked alone down the road, hand inside his jacket upon the gun he knew could protect him.

Finally he came upon an intersection, standing in the middle of the road, looking up at a flashing red light. He smiled to himself, the chaotic nature of the land finally taking on a certain appreciation for him. That was, until, the light bent. The cords holding the street light snapped and landed on the ground as though legs, the street light turning into a giant spider like creature, however its body a sole Red Light. Stu's eyes bugged, fumbling for the power level reader on his face. He clicked the button, while looking straight at the thing.

Over 9,000.

Shit.

Stu turned and ran, the spider thing chasing him, screeching in some horrible street light language that he didn't understand. He finally rounded a corner and circled through a back alleyway, getting away from the street light spider, which continued rampaging down the street. He doubled over, finally deciding to sit down next to a dumpster.

Until something called out to him.

~It was going to be one of those days.~

A girl was calling to him. Her voice was familiar, something he had heard a few times before. It was her voice, the one he had sought after for so long. He went back down the alleyway, and found her. She was crying, hands to her face over the body of someone she knew. Stu rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Ole-

His hand was knocked away, and the girl whom he had loved for so long finally looked at him. Her face was unrecognizable, serrated jagged teeth set into a wide grin, eyes as crimson as blood, her hands turned into feral claws. She looked up at him, screeching horribly. Stu looked aghast, immediately going to the gun in his pocket. She leaped, just as he pulled it out, pulling the trigger.

*BANG*

She flew backward, slumping against the wall, her chest now spattered with red, torn to shreds from the gun. Stu looked down at the object in his hands, the mini shotgun now replaced with a real shotgun. He dropped it, the barrel still smoking, as he stumbled backward, falling over something. He kicked away, trying to distance himself from the situation. He began crying, as he stood and ran from the spot, until he rounded a corner, pulling his jacket collar up around his ears.

Then he heard it. The screech. Suddenly turning around, all the people he had met over th past few years in this town were standing, suffering from the same affliction that had plagued her, the one he had killed. He stopped, staring at the horde, tears still streaming down his face. Everyone was there, everyone he had hit, everyone who had hit him, everyone he had met, everyone he had spoken too. Unfettered, Emily, Adrian, Amos, Rem, Fontes and others all stood, their bodies transformed into hunting machines, killing machines.

Stu fell to his knees, weeping aloud. The horde moved forward slowly, as though taunting him to run. He could only kneel, awaiting the horde to surround him. It did, their jaws cackling madly at his misfortune, hands gripping and releasing as though strangling him. They surged forward, and Stu could only weep, weep for the people he had changed, for what he had turned into.

And then he awoke. He shot straight upward, bashing his head on the light that hung above his head. He was in his apartment, having not stepped foot in the school for months. He rubbed his forehead, and looked around, and at himself. He was fine, no new damage, no new scars. He looked around his room, which was fine, normal, everything exactly as it had been before he fell asleep. He scowled, however, and got up, dressing quickly. He walked outside, trench coat wrapped around his body, green hair spiking in different directions from his head. Someone looked at him thoughtfully, concerned for the disheveled boy. He hissed at them, and shooed them off. He sat down upon the steps, and lit a cigarette.

What a fucking dream.

~I'm going to have to start watching more horror movies before I go to bed. That was way too nice of a dream.~


(I think its a bit over, but I had fun with it )

[Gabriel Seran]

Cruising his way into the cafeteria for a quick meal Gabriel found himself at the end of a zigzagging line that continued a ways to the door. He was in no specific hurry other than to get some food; his belly was empty scratching at his hollow insides, like a cat locked out for the night. After a few moments he made his way to the front of the line, grabbed his predestined meal conjoined with a healthy drink of water. Making his way to an empty seat at the end of the hall he downed the cup with two quick gulps followed by a relieved sigh. Beginning his meal he picked at the edges complementing the expanse of the meal before him before he felt a tug in his chest. Something wasn’t right, there was another tug, the convulsions made their way up his body, consuming his throat causing him to gasp and reflex his neck muscles yanking at his jaw line. Poison? Was that it, all he could think about is the fact that it all may be over, and no one seemed to care.

Darkness

An empty path lead his feet up an abandoned hill, at the top of the expanse was a house one that has been long lost from Gabriel’s memories, they too were lost in the fire. His feet lead him to the front door, the solid hinges now covered in a thick layer of old roots that stifled the beauty of the golden decor. Pushing his way past the aged door Gabriel entered what used to be his old house, luxury at its finest chandeliers, pianos, large showy materialistic décor. All covered by the creeps, the thorny brush that enveloped the grand mansion, sapping the life from it. Gabriel paced his way around the marble floors trying to figure if this was a dream. It had to be the house was gone. He heard a thump that came from a neighboring staircase; it ascended to another level where all the light in the room seemed to be coming from. Making his way up the stairs felt difficult as though he was being weighed down by an unseen weight tugging him urging not to go and see. The second floor hallway held an utmost fascination, its design far different from the one before. The lights held a new hue, the walls draped in scenic portraits. Gabriel’s pace slowed to observe the conflicting desires within him, he wanted to stay here forever, but the stronger pull within him dragged him on knowing there was nothing to be gained here. He came to a door, a blazing light streaming from the base, its ominous impression filled Gabriel with a fear he’d never known followed by anger. Gabriel burst his way through the door only to find the room piled with flames, they rose as like a new tide coming in, consuming everything even the creeps that gripped tight to the aged walls. Gabriel thrust himself across the chaotic room to a nearby window struggling for an edge against the force that held him down. The window resisted holding strong to its frame. Looking out past the old maple by the front of the house Gabriel saw it, he saw it again, a lone shadow on the horizon mocking him as if to say, I can get you in your dreams. The beastly figure rose across the lawn and scurried off in the trails on the embers escaping from the roof of his home. Falling to his knees Gabriel wept, he wept for the first time since his family had been murdered right before his eyes. Letting out a vengeful scream Gabriel uttered in a sense ‘I am not defeated, and here I stand only to rid my life of you!’ the screams of innocent blood followed waking him from his tormented slumber.
His gaze scanned the room searching for a grasp of where he was or better yet where he’d been. Catching a nurse on staff, he directed her to his side,

“What happened?” He muttered from a dry stale mouth, his throat pained to the vibrations in his voice.
“Why deary, you’re here at the hospital, seems there was a chemical leak and you were one of those who got hit.” She said in as sweet a voice as can be.
‘Chemical leak?’ he thought to himself as all the comic books and government cover-up stories he’d heard came to his mind. He shot her a somewhat worried glance.
“Don’t worry hun, you’re gonna be alright” the crimson tone of her lips curled into a reassuring smile
Maybe it will be alright… Gabriel’s mind returned to the cloaked man outside his window, he remembered the sadistic sneer he’d been given and how it filled him with so much hate.
Maybe it’s just begun…

[Mitsuki Park]

Take into consideration that Mitsuki Park is not even remotely near the city where #259 resides, nor is she in the right country, let alone the right continent. Her exact location is unknown, and forever will be less the day comes for her to make an appearance to the general public. Although she may no longer attend the high school, she still continues on academically through the help of private tutors, and is improving dramatically in the art of combat. Still having much to learn, she adapts easily to her new surroundings, adjusting her persona and mindset according to every fake identity given. This is done with the help of her tutors and her other half - without them, Mitsuki Park would be six feet under.

Let thy words be few.

"Reita, let's play!" A young voice would ring out in the midst of the dark scene before a small emanating light slowly brightens the room. In front of the girl sat a boy her age hovering over what looked to be a text book, eyes peering into the words as if searching for a deeper meaning, face filled with determination, yet slight annoyance due to the girl's chatter. Not too far away stood someone who appeared to be the guardian of the two children. Ambivalence was rising in him. He was proud of the boy for being able to resist such temptation for so long, yet at the same time he knew that eventually the young master would give in. As for the girl, she had excellent charisma - the ability to make others bend and cave into her will was extraordinary.

"If there is no leisure in work, you will not have a very balanced childhood," the young girl spoke, before continuing, "This unbalance will cause serious consequences in the future."

And it was true. A psychological effect, if you will. By simply studying a good chunk of his childhood life, he misses the experiences of living the free life of a kid. A child's brain is not yet fully developed, thus not knowing right from wrong; Reita and Mitsuki, however, are special cases.

["...a wise man finds pleasure in his findings, a leader, when he leads-"]

"Ah, but a wise man is but a fool when he can not admit he is wrong, and a leader is never an excellent leader if he first does not know how to follow."

It was always a never ending battle of who was smarter than the other. Reita, being the older twin and also a male, simply had a bigger ego than Mitsuki, who only wanted to enjoy life. Ironically enough, if you compare Reita and Mitsuki now, you would be able to tell a clear difference to how much they have become opposites of what they once were.

A scene skip.

"But I want to stay with Reita!" she cried, though the older twin simply looked away. He, too, wished to be with his sister, yet at the same time wanted some time away. She was outshining him, and he was overly jealous. He was becoming a zealot with his work to push past his sister, and their guardians realized this and had no choice but to separate them for the time being.

Another scene skip.

A dog, a white, long haired man. A punk like girl, artistic. A blue rose, a tombstone, a tear. A school, an assembly. Supposed gods and goddesses. An office, a few teachers. Fights going on left and right, betrayal, trust, a flash of emotions. A man with purple eyes, pain, abandonment.

Then in the center lay a black metallic object, a light glint from the light shining from above, placed in front of a black velvety background. A hand opposite of her gripped the handle and pointed the barrel of the gun straight at her, and out from the shadows comes Andrew Black - only it's not him. A mask covers his face, a sinister grin, one wanting revenge. His finger twitches over the trigger...

Bang.

She awoke with cold sweat sliding down the side of her brow with her labored breathing, chest heaving up and down. It was mighty chilly in the room she was in, so cold that her breath could be seen. Only then did she realize that her window had been open, and from the light provided by the moon which was shining on her bottle of water, she saw small particles. School tap water?

Never again.

[olesya]

Sitting in the courtyard during the lunch break, Olesya picked wanderingly at the strings of her new acoustic guitar. Well, it wasn't new, in fact it was well used, with a heat damage mark on the underside and a few smoky gray marks on the fretboard. It had been through a fire, the seller had said, but it still plays like a gem. She had gotten it for a discounted price. Her lovely bass, Lola, sat in her stand back home, not to say that Olesya had forsaken her pride and joy, but rather, an acoustic was easier to play without an amp, yeah? She lifted her hand from the strings, a brief pause in her playing, she picked up her water bottle and took a healthy drink, the water nice and cold as she had filled it from the water fountain before coming outside...

A few moments later, the bottle dropped to the group, bouncing once before settling, dying the cement around it a deep dark gray as the water blossomed across the surface.

"But I don't WANT to wear a dress!" A five year old Olesya whined, tugging at the frills. Her hair bounced in childish ringlets on her shoulder and she tugged at those too, pursing her lips and wrinkling her nose in a pout. A family portrait, Father wrestling with the obstinate little girl in his lap, while Mother held the youngest, age three, in hers. A young boy and girl stood on either side of their sitting parents, the boy fiddling with his tie and making car noises (the tie had cars on them).

"Okay! Say cheese!"

FLASH.

With the click of the camera, everything whited out in a blinding flash of light. The young girl now grown to her proper age of sixteen, tough still clad in the bothersome dress. Olesya looked around the empty space and then down at herself, tugging at the hem of her dress in an uncomfortable fashion. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd worn a-

ZOOM! ZOOM-ZOOM-ZOOM!

An automobile sped by the teen, bearly missing her. She jumped in absolute shock, the first automobile followed by another, and then another. White fading to gray, black, and blue of city streets, her feet planted on either side of the yellow line.

ZOOM!

Once more, the vehicle smaller, a motorcycle making a wide arch, turning to face her a couple meters off, its occupant's eyes narrowed, his countenance deranged.

Stu.

"Stu! Please, you have to believe me!"

Olesya shouted, but the boy was deaf to her pleading. He revved the engine on his motorcycle and the junior was filled with the urge to run. But she couldn't outrun a motorcycle. Panicked, she shouted his name again, and the boy threw the throttle wide, filling the air with the harsh revving of mechanical parts, hurtling toward her.

White. Again. But round and flat. A table...and what was she standing on? And other flat white surface that rose in the back in thick white columns. A chair? It was huge! And the table was huge, almost like she had shrunk down to the size of a loaf of bread of something. The top of the table stood just below her shoulder height from where she stood, and atop of it was a proportionately sized tea set, the sugar cubes were easily the size of her head. Putting her hands flat on the surface she pushed herself up, righting herself and walking between the cup and tray of large sandwiches to see that was here. There were more chairs, the same size as the one she had been on, and they too had occupants. A dark haired girl with secret eyes, and a white haired girl with green eyes, and a white teddy bear with a black eye patch.

Mitsuki? Emily?

"What are you doing here?" She asked them, "Where have you been!?" She directed at Mitsuki, waggling her finger like she would to scold a child. Wtf.

But as she walked closer, she noticed something was...off. Both girls had an obscene amount of make up on, their cheeks rosied up and their hair pulled back in ribbons and curls almost like....dolls. They just sat there, mildly amused looks on their painted faces. Olesya walked over to Mitsuki's chair, poking the doll girl. The prod made her tilt her head slightly, though no other movement or reaction resulted.

"..."

Emily's turn, Olesya walked over and poked her as well, only gaining the same reaction. They were dolls. And that was creepy. Not satisfied with this conclusion, Olesya grabbed Emily doll by the shoulders and shook her, making her bow fall out of her perfectly curled hair.

"Wake up! Wake up! YOU STOP THIS RIGHT NOW~!"

She yelled, letting go of her and Emily doll tipped over, her porcelain head falling to meet the white chair and shattering. Olesya screamed and jumped backward, horrified by the headless Emily. She looked back to Mitsuki doll, whose painted eyes were now crying red, to the white teddy bear whose eye patch was now decorated with a Nazi symbol, and his seams were beginning to burst. Olesya turned and ran from them all, the table tilting and all of the tea accessories sliding off into the darkness.

Noooooooooooo....!


===

"NOOO!"

"She's waking up. Check her vitals."

Breathing deeply and rapidly, Olesya bolted upright to meet a crippling headache and wave of nausea. Hands on both sides of her bed gently pushed the girl back down against her pillow, someone grabbing her arm and feeling for her pulse, which was racing. Another felt her forehead, disappearing after a moment to be replaced by an ice pack. That took some of the pain away.

Blearily she looked around, the attendants over her bed going in an out of focus. The one taking her pulse set her wrist back down and nodded the other attendant away.

"She's fine, just needs some rest. Just like the rest of 'em."

They stepped out of the cubicle and drew the curtains back around her bed, where Olesya drifted back off. Though this time into a dreamless sleep.

[fuggelsworth]

Fuggelsworth was doing his normal thing just tinkering around with his steam engine. He went to go fetch some more water for himself and his machine. He found one of the pipes still connected to the water system, which he just recently fixed with a valve so he could use said pipe. taking a long refreshing drink ad filling his bucket. He realized the room got darker for some reason. like and evil shadow was over taking the red lights at the top of the room. Before long he realized he was falling.

This sensation was close to that he remembered form when he was a kid and his father would drug him so he could take him into his lab. And if i was not awake to know how to get in i could be no use to anyone trying to find out what he was up to. And to Fuggelsworth's worst fear he was back in his father's lab. Altho he stayed the same size he father grew so that he was still bigger than him as if he was still just a kid.

So the usual tests were ran on Fuggelsworth...taking math tests of things hes never seen before, writing essays on books hes never read. and the furious out bursts from his father scolding him on doing so bad. This was when he heard his most loathed phrase was used "I knew it Humans can never be useful there all the same unreliable and untrustworthy." This time in is dream he built up the courage he never had when he was a kid and stood up to his father. he threw together random parts he found on the desk to make a set of machine worth that worked like gears in a clock.

Fuggelsworth was never able to show his father his ability to put things together or understand how they work. All he really wanted was his father approval so that he wasn't another one of his father's failed experiments. He looked at his fathers face to see his reaction.

His father started making a sound that much like a screeching fan belt. The room spun about. When it stopped moving it was the lab after his father had been taken away. everything was broken and recently put out burn marks were prevalent. He felt a tang of guilt run through him as if it was his fault. He pushed the idea out of his head almost as soon as it got there.

"Hey there boy what are you doing here" the voice of that faceless Government officer he remembered visiting him in much the same situation.

Fuggelsworth suddenly realized he was a kid again. He started viewing himself in the 3rd person like watching a movie unfold. The boy started crying and asking were his father was. The officer that had a constant shadow over his face, no matter what light he was in, came up to the boy and asked if he knew were he was. The boy replied obediently and said "This is the Lab of Edward fuggelsworth". the agent looked a bit unsteady, like as if he was disobeying a direct order...or something. back to his self the agent asked if the boy had a name "Edward calls me useless. Is that my name?". There was an uneasy laugh from the agent. "No i don't think that name will suit you...how about.." there was a silence as if someone hit mute on the TV ten it returned to normal. "Fuggelsworth"

Fuggelsworth woke with a uncomfortable feeling that his face was swollen. He was just a few feet away from the water valve. He figured he slipped and fell. He was sure that's all it was. He checked his watch and was sad to see he lost so many hours in the day to work. Oh well after that nap and dream he wasn't ready to got to sleep anytime soon. He poured more water into his steam engine and began to tinker again. Readying himself to work through the night.

[seishounohana]

As usual, the acting Student Captain was more or less in deep thought at lunch time.

Last thing she remembered was drinking a glass of mango juice from the canteen, still at her spot by the school wall. It wasn't very long before the next thing she saw was a tint of black.

She felt herself falling.

Falling.

Until her eyes opened.

Was it nighttime? Maybe, because it was so dark. She could see herself clearly, which made the girl wonder if anything happened to her -- was she dead? Was she poisoned?

What the heck was going on?

Emily stood up, and walked towards one direction. She had no idea what direction specifically due to the lack of landmarks, but she had no choice. She wanted to know where she was. It was a deathly silence, but Emily liked it for some reason -- most people would hate it.

'Ma-mama...'

Until, she heard a voice. It was someone crying. Where did it come from? Looking around, Emily found a mirror.

No. It wasn't a mirror, but an image of herself. Still the white, braided hair, Amo's vest and bandana... holding a winged heart of glass.

"Beautiful..." She was about to reach out for the glass heart, when it and the image of her suddenly shattered into fragments of glass.

Emily fell on her knees. Such a beautiful thing, wasted. Her eyes fell to look at one chunk of glass on the floor, only to see fire.

A Building on fire.

Emily shook where she was. No. NO. Not these memories! NO! She shook further when she heard sounds of fire engines, and the screams of the bystanders as the house exploded into further flames, collapsing. "No...!"

"Get her in the emergency room, stat!"

"What happened?! She's bleeding everywhere!"

"Fire. Parents tried saving her by throwing her out the window."

"Well it looked like it did the trick."

"Shit, we're losing the kid!"

"CLEAR!"

"CLEAR!"

Tears began streaming from Emily's eyes. Whatever was happening to her, it was doing well in inviting the memories that she had worked so hard to forget, to return and flood her memories. What she heard next, was beyond painful...

"Thank God, we got her back. How did that fire start?"

"Eyewitnesses say that this kid had that thing called Qi, She set an entire room on fire!"

"You mean she started all of this?!"

"NO!" Emily cried, "IT WASN'T ME!"

"Yes. She did."

"NO!"

Weeping further, Emily stood up and began to run in the void. Sure she was able to stop hearing the voices after a while, but it all had been replaced by a rabid dog chasing her. Yes, she was reliving this part of her life.

That part of her life when she was treated as nothing but trash.

Tripping, she would notice her hands being small. She was now a 6-year old girl. With the angry in front of her, the shadow figure of a large man came to her view, and she began to shake in fear. "P-Please! I'll be good!"

"You can't even pick a pocket right! WHO DO YOU OWE YOUR LIFE TO!" The figure raised a hand, which was seemingly armed with a belt. "You think you can escape me!? Bullshit. You'll be here serving me like all your fucking brothers and sisters... and when you're old enough we're selling you to the brothel! Now stop moving and this won't hurt too much!"

Emily could only cover her hear with her arms. Eyes closed, she waited for the painful strike -- but no, it didn't come.

Instead, she heard gunshots.

Opening her eyes, she saw the bloodied bodies of the Aoyamas.

Shaking yet again, Emily screamed -- burst into tears as the police car lights, went flashing violent shades of red and white on her eyes. It blinded her continuously...

... until she suddenly lost all sensation. This time, the bloodied corpses of that syndicate group laid on the floor -- their blood on her hands. Clutching her head and screaming, she saw visions of that trial, and the day she killed people inside the correctional facility.

"NO MORE!"

"No more? Just you wait; that's only the beginning."

Emily looked forward, lowering her eyes to meet with someone who only existed in her mind. Someone she tried to control -- and whom, apparently, seemed to control her emotions more than anyone else.

Kari.

Kari approached the girl, holding her by the shoulder, grinning sadistically as she whispered something into her ear --

-- and Emily fell on her knees yet again, the shards of glass floating around her, and the voices of the different chapters of her life overlapping and making more chaos.

Emily just stared forward, looking at nothing specific... but tears were flowing freely from her eyes.

---

Emily's eyes shot open, where a white ceiling met her green eyes.

Quickly sitting up, the girl looked around. Students were being brought into the ward still, and they were all either screaming or bursting into hideous amounts of laughter in their sleep -- and she realized: it was all a nightmare.

She stood up ignoring the nurse that just told her that she still needed to rest, the doctor that told her that she had one of the worst blows of the chemical spill...

... that she had to be sent to the hospital, because she was having seizures.

... Emily didn't care of those details at the moment. She just stared forward and went where her feet led her to.

She found herself at the Hospital roof, realizing that she was only on a patient's gown.

She just stared at the sunset and remembered the words Kari told her.








"A life of misery. That is your destiny."

[Arim Urem'der]

<<Ok, ok... I know. I kinda went above and beyond the call of duty, doing... you know... MORE THAN TRIPLE THE REQUIRED AMOUNT. Dx But, I digress. I HAD FUN. <3 =D>>


"Class couldn't have ended fast enough..." The blonde sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She paused at a fountain before looking at her friend, "Keep on going, Lilah. I need a drink, I'll catch up" she told her before stepping before the fountain and filling up a plastic bottle with water. Arim never drank from plastic bottles, it was more harmful than you could think. At least tap water was safe.

The girl filled it to the brim before screwing a lid on and making a small jog to catch up with Delilah. The blonde took a greedy gulp of the clear liquid before handing it to Delilah, "Here, better than bottled water" The teenager kept a brisk pace, humming to herself. The tune was relaxing to her, making the walk even more pleasant. The girl felt a strange tingle, making her look up from the floor. She squinted her eyes, trying to concentrate... but the room began to spin and darken. "De....de..." the blonde stuttered, losing her footing, collapsing to the ground. She clenched her teeth as everything went black, waiting for her body to hit the ground.

"Delilah! Help!"

But the impact never came.

Her eyes clenched for a moment before slowly opening, the falling feeling seemed to retreat from her body, coming to an abrupt halt. A flicker of light relighted the darkness, revealing a disheveled... perhaps even convicted subway lane. The girl blinked, observing her surroundings. There were several stains around the circular lane, cracks, broken tiles.. it was a dump.

"Delilah?" she whispered, starting forward down the hall, rubbing her shoulders. "Delilaaaaaahhhhh?" she asked again, this time a bit louder. The blonde grumbled to herself for inhaling deeply,


"DE. LI. LAAAAAAAH!!!!"


The scream echoed down the desolate before it fell back into deathly silence once more. Arim shuddered and quickened her pace down the endless underground path. It seemed to go on forever, no matter how fast she ran, or how slow she walked. "Delilah... Please come out" she sobbed, rubbing her hands against her eyes. The girl stopped to observe her surroundings once again, and she noticed a dark door beside her. The teenager blinked before approaching it, noticing the symbol for a female on the door. "Restroom?" the girl asked herself, placing a hand gingerly on the door. With a push, the door creaked open, revealing a equally disheveled bathroom. The smell was abhorrent, and it made Arim want to throw up. She took a few clumsy steps inside the dirty room before turning a corner, noticing that it didn't look like a public rest room at all. In fact, it looked like one you'd find in a regular home.

"Huh?" the girl mumbled, stepping into the room. A window suddenly opened before her, revealing a flash of light that caught her off guard. The teenager shrieked, sheilding her eyes. After a moment of confusion, she unsheathed them to look at a full, white moon. Something about it was different, as if it was stalking her. Suddenly, a loud, piercing noise rang in her ears. Arim gripped the sides of her head, clenching her teeth hard. It sounded like white noise, only higher, like a stifled demonic scream. The noise grew louder and louder, making the girl tumble around the room. "Make it stop!" she screamed, "MAKE IT STOP!" Yes the noise only grew louder. "STOP!!" The blonde finally tripped over something soft, landing onto the hard, tiled ground. A groan escaped her before she looked at what she tripped over, it seemed to resemble flesh... but from what? She looked up higher, noticing she had tripped over the limb of a person. Not only that, but they weren't alive... they were dead, their arms hung out of the bath, wrists sliced open, the contents staining the pure floor. The empty eyes of the dead stared at Arim, the body swaying slightly from the blood-red water it swam in. Arim clawed at her mouth to stifle a scream.

But...

It looked familiar.... Someone she knew?

The girl leaned forward, trying to discern the face through strings of blood-soaked black hair. When she was close enough, a chuckle emanated from the corpse. Wait-- a chuckle!? The dead body pulled it's head up, as if to get a better look at the blonde. The flushed face stretched with an eerily long smile, revealing red stained teeth.

"E... miss.... o" the corpse chortled, it's head falling lopsided, revealing cut along her throat. A fatal slice of the jugular.

Arim shreiked.
She didn't know why, besides pure terror.

The girl stood up to her feet, keeping her hands glued to the wall as she slowly backed away. The corpse chuckled again, and began to follow her in pursuit, leaving the bath.

"Wha....s.... wro...ng?"

"Go away!" Arim shreiked.

"Yo... oo ....sad...."

"GO AWAY!!" she shreiked louder, somewhat threatening this time.

"Ever...mind....

e.... some....

tant...o"

"STOP! STOP IT!"

"Please....

care....."

Arim didn't know what to do, she panicked. Was this thing going to kill her? How did it know her? She reached for something, anything. Her hand grazed the top of something hard, and she accepted it. She pulled the thin metal towards her, raising it over her head.

"What....?

You...

hear?"

The girl dropped the weapon, making it collide against the skull of... whatever it is. She shrieked in terror as she repeated the same strike again and again.

"I..."

"H-he..."

"You...."

Arim halted, gripping the crowbar tightly as the corpse fell to the floor, motionless. The crowbar slipped out of her palms, colliding with the tiles, making them shatter below it. Her chest rose and fell in jerky motions, her breath husky and labored. Arim took a step away from the crumbled body at her feet and walked around it, making sure to keep her eyes on it at all times. Her hand bumped into something, causing her to turn away from the body on the floor. Before her was a sink with a mirror over it, but it was severely broken with many pieces missing. She closely examined the mirror, until she heard something, like a drop of water hitting a surface. The blonde looked down, noticing a speck of red contrasted to the white sink. She leaned closer, noticing that it was blood. "Blood?" she thought allowed, before lifting her head to face the mirror. Before her was her reflection, broken and scattered. But what was different was the stream of blood trickling from her nose. Flustered, she brought up her hand to wipe away the stream of blood. When her hand moved away, another had taken it's place, along with another stream pouring from her other nostril. Quickly she pressed her thumbs against her nose, trying to restrict it. After a moment, she turned her eyes to look up at the mirror again... she looked fine now, right? Arim slowly removed her hands from her nose, but two red streams started to drip from the corners of her mouth.

"What's going on?!"

Her fingers laced into her hair, gripping onto it hard. Before her in the mirror, she was beginning to bleed from each orifice. Her tear ducts released rich, red tears that slowly rolled down her cheeks. Suddenly, the noise returned once more, causing pressure and pain inside her skull. She stumbled backwards, leaving a path of blood dripping after her. The teenager howled in pain until it had disappeared once again, only to be followed by a loud crack. Confused, Arim tried to find the source of the sound, finally noticed it was above her. Unfortunately, she had figured this out too late. Within a second, a part of the roof broke away and spilled debris onto the blonde's dome. A large, black figure stood before her. Through the window, one of the clouds momentarily slipped past, allowing the moon's light to pour into the room once again. The white light revealed the figure, a man in a suit hanging from a extension cord from a hole in the roof. The surprise caused her to lose her footing, making the teenager tumble to the floor and stare up gawping at the figure. The man twitched in irregular, jerky spasms. He looked down at Arim, his mouth slack-jawed and his eyes bloodshot.

"W... yu...,

T's...

ou.. lk...."

"Another one!?" Arim breathed.

"N.... we need... to... t...l....l....

thing.... very... imp, List...

en.... fully..., Can't... hun? Have... lp...."

"I can't understand you!" she cried, holding her hands tightly over her mouth.

"8 5...

1...2....

1...2 ....9-9... watch... f--"

without any warning a strange hand crawled from the side of the hanging man's face. It cupped over his mouth, making his words fall silent. "Now, now..." a voice cooed lightly, "don't give everything away to her now, that's no fun." Arim instinctively tensed up from the sound of the voice, she recognized that tone anywhere. Comforting and as smooth as silk, yet sickeningly sweet like toxin; but she denied such thoughts. He of all people couldn't be here... could he? "Hello my dear" the voice greeted her in a slow, pleasant tone. The hand pulled farther across the hanging man's face, then suddenly like a cobra's strike snapped back to where it came from, pulling the hanging man's head along with it. A sickening snap filled the air as the man's head lolled to the side, it's vacant eyes staring lopsided at the ground. Arim grabs her lips tightly, preventing a scream from escaping her mouth. The heavy taste of blood building up in her mouth was no help to her. She whimpered softly, a high, pathetic whimper. Her shoulders shuddered with each husky breath, was she going to die here?

The tall figure from behind the hanging man took a step away from it, revealing himself from behind the dead body. As Arim had feared, it was who she believed it was... Serj Castlereagh. His gaze laid down on her, with teeth gleaming in the moonlight, giving him a Cheshire-cat demeanor. Arim instinctively took a few scrambling movements away from him. "What's wrong, Arim?" the lanky man asked her as he held his hand out to her, his smile never faltering for a moment, "Need some help?"

The blonde only shook her head rigorously as she continued to back away.

"Scared, are we? There's nothing to fear" His smile seemed to smile even wider now as he took a few slow strides towards her.

Arim attempted to crawl faster, too flustered to stand at her feet. She shook her head again and again until she hit something, a wall. She glanced behind her, noticing that she was cornered in the grimy bathroom. Her gaze slowly turned back to Serj, her eyes as wide as saucers. Before he had come closer, something seemed to constrict his movement. He looked a bit surprised, but the smile never left. He turned to look at what caused the problem, the body that Arim had bashed with a crowbar was now clinging tightly to one of his legs. His smile twitched for a moment, but hardly noticeable. "I'd advise against such behavior" he said calmly to the dead woman before raising the unrestricted foot. His foot dropped on her head, sending it to the floor, crushed by the weight of his foot. He forced more and more of his weight onto his heel as it dug into the woman's skull until the pressure finally crushed the corpse's head like a melon, spraying blood across the floor. He looked down at the mess below, "Now you got my suede's covered in blood..." Serj remarked with a disappointed shake of his head. Arim's eyes widened once more as she dry heaved into her hands over and over again, but never able to take her gaze away from the bloody mess. Before Serj had time to turn his attention back to Arim, something had wrapped around the pale man's neck and jerked back tightly. He nearly lost balance, but quickly removed a thin, yellow card from around his neck in time. He looked back at the hanging man, who had attempted to choke Serj with a separate piece of his own noose. He has no longer suspended, the noose had loosened somehow. Serj's smile faltered for a moment, but just a moment. "I'm afraid I don't have time for this" he remarked before sidestepping towards the wall, flicking his finger over a light switch. The lights flickered, however the broken power cord around the man's neck began to spark to life and the man's body began to spasm and flail. It only lasted a second, until Serj turned the lights back off, causing the corpse to fall backwards onto the other corpse and into the tub of red liquid. Serj's smile darkened with delight before he switched the lights back on once again, causing both corpses to spasm and convulse from the electric current. Arim continued to dry heave in the corner, watching in horror; the smell was horrific. The dyed water spilled over the tiles on the floor, items around the tub knocked away.

And then... The bodies suddenly stopped convulsing. The lights flickered off once more.

There was the Moon.

The Moon,
Arim,
And Serj.


She didn't want to look, she hoped that if she couldn't see it, it would go away. It would all go away. Her bloody fingers trailed up her thin hair, staining it along the way up. They clawed into the top of her head, forcing it down to her knees. Her eyes snapped shut, her whimpering muffled in her limbs. "It'll go away... Disappear... just disappear..." she sobbed to herself, rocking back and forth.

"I'm afraid not," Serj addressed her, "Things like this do not disappear, my dear. They'll always be there... all you can do is soothe the pain, and there are only two ways to do that."

"Ha...ha...how?" Arim chocked, her voice muffled from the flesh of her arms. The answer... she felt... no, she knew what one was already. It was an end that no one wished to acknowledge, it was a miserable setback to each of their own, and it discriminated none. Arim drew her up upwards to look forward, only to hold eye-to-eye contact with Serj knelt before her. She instinctively tensed up; The blood escaping her orifices stained her porcelain complexion, like a china doll soiled with mud. Serj expression perhaps expressed an shell of sympathy, but there was something more obvious behind his gaze. Something that was flawlessly hidden, but Arim had been allowed to see it. It was like beholding a forbidden treasure, prohibited to view such a rare, unexplainable thing... but you couldn't possibly look away.

"I can see you know one already, the coward's way out..." his hand extended forward to gently wipe Arim's cheek of the streams of blood. It retreated back to him, but instead of wiping it off, he licked the blood spread over his hand. His shark-toothed smile seemed to stretch just a tad, but only a that. She wasn't sure why he was smiling, but she couldn't like it either.

"If there's anything you want... anything at all; come to me.

I'll be your Guardian Angel"


Blackness.
She was thrown into a void once again.

Had she fainted?

The world that was once hellacious and unbearably real has disintigrated in a moment. But... how? It was like a movie that simply skipped. It took her a moment to register... but her eyes were closed. She slowly forced her eyes to open, the flickering fluorescent lights above her making her blinky abruptly. She was mesmerized by the flickering lights for a moment before she grew tired of looking at it and let her head fall to the side. She was in the hospital ward? When did she get here...?

There were more people in here, too.... they were all asleep.

She remembered walking... drinking out of a bottle and--
Drinking?
The water?

What the hell was in the water!?

Arim forced herself to adjust her body onto the edge of the bed, pulling her torso up to sit straight. She placed her hands onto her knees, looking forward blankly. A hallucinogen, perhaps? That relieved her a bit... it must've just been a hallucination... nothing more.

Nothing more.
Right...?

A frown creased her lips before her thoughts returned, Delilah... she gave water to Delilah!? OH CRAP!

[/size][/color]

[Serj Castlereagh]

Mr. Castlereagh was quite busy that day. Oh yes, he was working on filing and filling out the forms concerning the latest acts of school violence. But, as of recent, his computer had inexplicably crashed just as he was finishing the last four students on the docate. And so, until the computer could be fixed, he had to do all the filing and reports...by hand. And there were quite a lot of incidents.

This plethora of incidents had Serj feeling, for once in his life, less than calm. In fact, he'd already snapped twice today at the secretary for dumping hot coffee on his lap and again for losing thirty of his already finished violence reports. Now, normally, Serj would have laughed both of hese incidents off; they were simple accidents, no more, no less. However, due to his rising stress level, Mr. Castlereagh had implied in the most polite of tones that the secretary should not only be more careful, but she should 'kindly try not to screw anything else up'. Even Serj's eternal patience only went so far.

He sipped at the coffee he had asked the secretary (ever so pleasantly) to remake for him and grimaced; the coffee had a funny taste to it. At this rate, he would never to be able to repair the shambles that were Public High School 259 if he couldn't even get a decent cup of coffee. Setting is mug aside, he stamped his three hundred and fourty second report of that week and scrawled his signature on the bottom page before shifting it to a pile on the left. He reached to grab another....then brought his hand to his face, where he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fore-finger and thumb, over come by a sudden feeling of light headedness. Shaking it off, he reached again for the paper...and found suddenly that his world began to waver before his eyes.

Knowing something to be wrong, Mr. Castlereagh rose to his feet and walked himself slowly to the door. He fumbled with the handle for a moment, then threw it open...only to stagger back out of shock.

The secretary was sitting before him, her cheeks stretched into an impossibly wide smile as she typed at a peppermint striped computer. "Is everything alright Mr. Castlereagh?"

He stared at her in confusion for a moment before collecting himself, watching her smile with curious fascination. It looked as though she had a coat hanger inserted rather cruelly into her mouth. "Yes, Georgia...quite alright, thank you." He stepped towards her, certainly not feeling alright. "May I ask how you feel, my dear?"

She giggled in an uncharacteristically girly way and blushed. "Oh, I'm just peachy keen. So happy to be here, you know, I'm just so happy! Can I do anything for you, sir?"

"No, thank you." He replied smoothly, his brown/gold eyes flickering around the main office. Everything looked...significantly different, almost as though it were...

Reaching out, he pressed his hand onto the nearby wall, as if to steady himself...and felt his hand sink into the wall. When he withdrew it, he examined his hand, only to find it covered with sticky white goo. Raising his hand slowly to his lips, he licked some of the stuff off his fingers, hoping to God it wasn't salty...

"...Chocolate?" he murmured out loud, examining his hand again. No...white chocolate. The walls were made of white chocolate? He moved over to the nearby filing cabinets and scratched at one of the sides. Parts of it peeled off in neat shavings...that also retained the consistancy of chocolate.

He looked down at floor and found the carpet beneath his feet to be comprised of itty bitty live-wires. Likewise, everything else...seemed to be made of candy.

Serj struggled to calmly find reasoning in this seemingly large amount of chaos before it came to him. He looked over his shoulder at his (now choco-lified) office door and smiled. It had to be the coffee. Or at least, something in it. The water, maybe?

Either way, it didn't matter; what did matter was that none of this was real. None of it. So...it wouldn't matter if he...

Well...just to make sure.

Stepping up behind Georgia, he grabbed the tidy bun holding back her curtain of light brown hair, tightened his grip, and braced himself with his hand on her desk.

And began mercilessly slamming her head onto her keyboard.

BAM!
She was still smiling that eerie smile, despite the blood pouring out of her nose.
"Mr. Ca-"
"Hmph,"
BAM!
Blood flew left and right, spattering Serj's suit, the computer screen and the immaculate white that was the keyboard. Georgia's nose was cracked to the side of her face and a shard from her now shattered glasses was jutting out of her left eye.
And yet, she smiled.
A giggle escaped her, "That-t-tickle--"
BAM!
"A-HAHAHAH-"
BAM!
"pffft, heeheeHAAAA,HAHAHAHA-"
BAM!
"ha...HAHAHA-HAHAHA!"
BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM!

[/size]

-BAM!-

Serj released Georgia's hair and let her fall to the floor, her once pleasant looking face battered beyond recognition and waited for someone to burst into the office and demand to know what was going on, and then, in a typical show of heroics, attack him.

Quite the opposite, really.

The students walked past the office without so much as a cursory glance, skipping and humming a pop tune.
Wait....skipping? Curious, Serj walked out of the office and into the main foyer.

Just like Georgia, all the students wore the same too-wide grin that displayed their back molars. They were chatting cheerfully, giggling, helping each other with homework and life issues.
Basically, the exact opposite of day-to-day life at PHS.
And it was paradise

....This isn't my school...

As if to reinstate that thought, the students walking past began greeting Serj with vigor.

"G'morning, Mr. Castlereagh!"
"Looking sharp, Mr. C!"
"Mr. Castlereagh, you were right, I really CAN do anything! Thanks a million!"

The student of the last statement hugged him around the middle before running off in the direction of her friends. Well...this is strange.

Speaking of strange, it seemed that the areas outside the office were also made of sweets. In fact...the doors seemed to be made of gingerbread and the windows a mosaic of multicoloured, transparent candy. The students, however, seemed to pay it no mind, even when part of the floor crumbled away beneath them.

On the spur of the moment, Serj suddenly reached out and grabbed the nearest student, whipping him mercilessly to the left, and hurling the boy through the doors, shattering the 'door' and the 'glass', reducing them to minute crumbles.

The students in the foyer suddenly fell silent and looked at the scene. The boy was motionless and bleeding out the back of his head, but probably not dead. Silence pervaded for another few moments, before the foyer erupted with chilling laughter.

"Did you see that!?"
"That was wicked!"
"The way the glass shattered when he hit it was classic!"
"Way to go Mr. C!"

The laughed and chatted mindlessly, standing around and comparing what they'd seen, greatly exaggerating the exploits of Serj Castlereagh. And he watched them.

These kids were not the kids of PHS259. They were figments of his imagination. He didn't know where the Gingerbread-school came from, but the rest of this was a higly exaggerated version of his utopia.
They laughed when he attacked them...they cheered him on...
Well, if it really was a hallucination, it'd best be spent while it could be enjoyed. If it wasn't...ah, well. Insanity would be welcome at this point. He deserved the looney bin if none of this was his imagination.

He went back into the office and flicked on the PA system. "Please excuse the interruption, students....this is Mr. Castlereagh speaking,"
He could hear cheering outside the office.
"All classes are hereby cancelled for today, in light of my excellent mood. Instead, we will be playing a little game...of hide and seek. I have an hour to find you all. If you win, you get a prize. If you lose...well, let's hope you don't lose, mm?
"You have ten seconds to hide. Ten...nine...eight..."

As he finished counting, he could hear the students screeching with delight and scrambling to find a safe place to hide. Little did they know, mm?

[/b]"Two...one. Ready or not, here I come."[/b]

He started walking calmly out of the office, and hung a right for the west wing of the school. There, he noticed a couple of freshmen girls struggling to hide themselves behind an open classroom door, but they were too busy giggling to truly be hiding.

Sidling over, Serj pushed the door open a little and saw the girls standing there. They shrieked with laughter and threw their hands up in surrender.

"One two three on Jamie Fester and Karen Holmes." he said softly. He stepped to the inside of the door and raised his right leg. He slammed his foot into the door so hard that the wall behind it, the wall supporting the girls, caved sightly behind them. Their laughter became sightly gurgled as he continued to add force to the door, until it finally ceased.

He didn't need to look. They were dead.

He shifted into the classroom and noticed a few kids hiding behind the teachers desk. He sighed warmly, and picked a meter stick off the ledge of the white board.

"One, two, three on..."

*******

Serj would have been grinning like a fool the entire time he was unconcious, midning only the mass murder in his mind. It had ended abruptly when he gave a student a bomb, for winning the competition and it had detonated.

When he awoke, he would feel as groggy as if he had recently been released from surgury, but still as pleased as he had been in his 'dream'. For teh first time in a long time...he was relaxed.

[/color][/center]

[Roland]

(OOC: Since I'm trapped in Barker's jail, I've altered the scenario a bit, but the goal of the exercise remains intact)



"Push .2 milligrams. Put him under,"

"Yes, Doctor."

Roland's arm tugs weakly at the restraint. These past days/minutes/years/who knows, consciousness had been a greasy eggplant to him. Never easy to grasp and keep ahold of, and really weird-tasting and odd-looking while it was his. He barely knows who he is, let alone where he is or why. Barker's scientists are a little too busy to fill him in on little details like that.

And so consciousness slips from his grasp again as syringes and tools pass between hands above his closing eyelids, like uncanny metallic pointy sheep helping him count himself to sleep.
uncanny metallic pointy sheep helping him count himself to sleep.
uncanny metallic pointy sheep helping him count himself to sleep.
uncanny metallic pointy sheep helping him count himself to sleep.
Got a ring to it.

---

The heavens open up, and descending from the clouds is a massive fortress of light, too beautiful for earthly construction. From its gates pour forth a multitude of shrieking angel-demons, whose wrath strikes down towards him.

Roland looks to his left. A red-bearded in a tan hat. On his right is a white-eyed girl carrying a throwing plate. Behind him, masses of ragtag warriors stands firm, from young twin children to a man bearing a remarkable resemblence to Brad Pitt.

The good General Byron stands, his voice pronouncing a pep talk that is carried away on frozen antarctic winds.

"What the hell is going on..." Roland thinks, and reaches up to scratch his head. The motion is interrupted as his hand meets an object protruding above his shoulder. A handle of some sort. "What's this..." he asks no one in particular.

It's a SWORD, YA HAGGIS-BRAINED LOVER O' SHEEP!! shouts the huge orange bearded one. He seems to be carrying some kind of ladder, how strange. Roland draws the sword clumsily, and notices that he has a second one at my hip on a belt, which he draws as well. Feels right.

No time to talk. The shining horde bears down, and the ragtags charge. Explosions rip the sky, and the lines blend.

Slashing wildly, Roland discovers that the creatures bleed like any human might.

A demon with red hair dashes past. A man in yellow glasses rides a cloud of arrows. A young woman as old as time transforms into a scorpion. Things too strange to comprehend whirl around Roland at a speed beyond reckoning.

There is a great flash of pain, and his world spins more literally. His broken body tumbles across the jagged red ice, worth little more than a rag doll. It comes to a stop face up, eyes staring out. A flash of blue across the grey sky, and all falls quiet.

---

"He's waking up."

"Push another .2 milligrams, we can't have him moving or we'll botch the whole procedure."

Roland's eyelids flutter open long enough to glimpse the shiny sheep back and forth, and the ride begins again.

---

The scene this time is a quiet courtyard in a city of stone and air. Stratosphere winds tug gently at the leaves of a rosebush as the island moves slowly through the sky.

Roland doubles over as if struck. His eyes, glassy and wide, gaze into a pool of water, reflecting back a face that is both familiar and unknown. It is his face, but not. I see you... mouths the face, and Roland whispers back. Who are you?!

The face contorts in pain and rage. "I DON'T KNOW" it shouts, and either Roland or that other person throw themselves back from the water in a fit of frustration. I dont know...

Tumbling backwards through the air, Roland/the other's body lands and slides across the courtyard, coming to rest under the hanging branches of the rosebush. Above, a rose looms larger than the sun in their field of vision. Tears from nowhere now. "No...I have work to do in this world, and you in yours. We will meet again. Now GO!" Roland's mouth speaks on its own, and Roland nods in reply, and shuts his eyes.

---

"Procedure complete. Get him to the ward."

"Yes Doctor."

A ceiling of false tiles, punctuated by the harsh light of flourescent lights, rushes by overhead. Roland knows nothing, feels nothing, is nothing. A dream-universe away, a man in a dark coat weeps in a courtyard of stone in a city in the clouds. The story continues.

[Alexander Dvoryanstvo]

OOC: I worked hard on this one; let me know what you think.


Another day, another boring class. Alex found himself staring at the clock almost continuously, as if trying to force the hands to move faster through strength of will. He sighed when the bell finally rang. He knew that, to keep his cover, he didn't have any choice but to go to classes he himself could teach.

Alex took a sip from the water fountain and checked his watch. He now had exactly one hour to eat lunch. It seemed as if every minute of every day spent in school had been planned in advance--by someone else. This was not unusual for Alex, but in spite of its familiarity Alex resented the lack of freedom and spontaneity. How much longer would he have to wait to get past this kiddie shit?

Alex took a seat in the cafeteria and watched the other students gather in packs with their plastic trays. At least he could eat what he wanted. Alex dug his lunch out of his backpack and propped his feet up. He had a table to himself, once again. He stared at the brown bag that contained his lunch; normally he was starving after class, but today he just couldn't find his appetite.

A cute girl from class took a seat next to him. They ate together, and flirted. Heavily. By the time lunch was over, Alex's mood had improved considerably.

When Alex finally stood up to leave, his knees almost gave out beneath him.

'Must've gotten up too quickly,' Alex rationalized as he steadied himself against a nearby chair. He slowly made his way over to one of the trash bins, and tried to drop his half-eaten lunch inside. SPLAT! The sandwich spilled out onto the floor, painting the tile in mustard. Alex, confused, raised his hand to his forehead. No fever. Was he...high? He felt like he could black out at any moment. He needed to get outside and get a breath of fresh air--right now. Alex staggered towards the exit, but before he could make it to the door the floor rushed towards him, and he fell.

.~*~.

Alex groaned and sat up. He felt as if his head had gotten stuck in a meat grinder, in a butcher shop whose radio only played Abba on the didgeridoo. It was dark, and his vision was blurred. Squinting, Alex could barely tell that he had woken up in a hallway he didn't recognize, with a series of doors on either side. He pulled himself up onto his feet and walked down the hallway. It seemed to go on forever, without bending or changing color. After five minutes, Alex decided to try one of the doors. It was locked. His feet suddenly grew cold and wet, first his heels followed by his toes. Alex looked down and saw that he was standing in a puddle--a large puddle of freezing cold liquid that stretched as far as Alex could see in the darkness. And it was swelling.

Confused, Alex walked to the next door and jiggled the handle. It hardly budged. By now, the water had crept up to Alex's ankles. He broke into a run, banging and shouting on each door as he passed. Suddenly, he ran face-first into a dark figure standing motionless in the middle of the hallway. Alex tripped and fell back into the freezing water. The silhouette extended its hand. Alex took it, with reluctance, and pulled himself back onto his feet. His clothes and been soaked clean through, but the coldest part of him by far was the hand that he had just used. He shivered.

The figure was wearing a dark suit and tie, with a bowler hat to match. It strode silently to the next door without disturbing the water. It reached out its hand, and the door opened. Strangely, the water did not rush into the open room.

The figure turned and stepped into the doorway, vanishing into the darkness beyond. He thought he caught a glimpse of the man's face as he left. "Mr Stroika?" Alex called out. Dad?

Alex understood. He was supposed to follow. Alex approached the door tentatively, and peered into the black. The water was now around his knees. Despite the cold, Alex stood at the threshold, unable to move. He couldn't. It was no longer in his nature to throw himself headlong into the unknown for no reason other than the will of another.

How far have I fallen, Alex wondered. He couldn't even trust his own father; couldn't behold him for the first time in years without questioning his motives. That was the life Alex had chosen.

Alex took a deep breath. He was waist-deep in water now, and had no good options. He would have to follow. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Alex spotted a thin shaft of light beneath the water. He could see the end of the hallway! Alex turned from the open door and waded through the water as fast as he could. The light was coming from underneath a door at the end of the hall. Alex tried the handle, and the door opened.



The smell and sounds of spring assailed Alex's senses. He was in a grassy field, the darkness and the cold now a distant memory. He could hear a faint echo of laughter. Alex had to shield his eyes from the sun as he peered in the direction of the sound. On the summit of the next hill he spotted a group of four--two adults and two children. He walked towards them.

"Hey!" Alex said, waving as he approached. As he reached the top of the hill he noticed a beautiful woman in a white dress, stretched out on a blanket of grass, with her long fingers curled around a wine goblet that quivered as she laughed. Alex knew her, and didn't know her. But in that instant he loved her--hopelessly, desperately, and without explanation. Nearby, a man with blonde, nappy hair was teaching a young girl how to fly a kite for the first time. His voice was melodic. Alex could see his face.

Sadness; overwhelming sorrow and pain racked Alex's body like a physical force. He sunk to his knees, cradled his head between his legs, and wept. Not for what he had lost, but for what he believed he would never have.

Alex knew that he was dreaming. He was certain of it, because surrounding him was the single greatest temptation of extraordinary men: a simple, carefree, life.

.~*~.

Alex opened his eyes. He was in the hospital. He didn't want to sit up, ever again. He turned his head. A nurse was in the room checking the vitals of another patient in the bed across from him. He the recognized the patient from school. An epidemic?

Alex considered for a moment, then closed his eyes and slept.

[Patrick O'Connor]

Dreams, funny things they were. Some were pleasant, a place to escape reality into the peaceful land of fluffy clouds. Some looked forward to their dreams as they could be whatever the mind wanted. Other dreams however for certain people were not such. They were the hellish things that few people experience. They were unimaginable nightmares that were constant and consistent, unless drenched with chemically induced sleep such as alcohol. In this case the hallucinogen was one that forced people into a land where they could not escape, for good or for ill. In Patrick O’Connor’s case it brought him to an inescapable hell that he drank to forget. This time there would be no escaping the past that drove him here, to California, to PHS 259.

It started happily enough. He started by looking at her, holding her in his arms. They were in a loving embrace. He smelled her pleasant scent. Her hair was a bright red and her eyes a deep blue. Her face was simply beautiful as was the rest of her body. Patrick smiled as he held her. It was a moment of peace, he knew he was the luckiest man alive. She was nice, cute and funny. They shared many past traits in common, mainly being orphans and living on the streets but together their personalities seemed to complete each other. He was serious, selfless, caring and loving while she was funny, cute, selfless and loving. They were ying and yang. Together they were complete, with her Patrick had a happier outlook and a less cynical sense of humor. With him She was more focused and had a better sense of seriousness. They had very little and were in debt but for once both of them had a stable income and were running their own small business. For once in both of their lives things were looking up for the both of them Even at the school that was called the most violent school in the state the general consensus was that they were a perfect and cute couple. Her name was unforgettably beautiful, Zea Heart.

For the moments of their embrace Patrick was happy. He had not been so in a long time. At the moment the setting that the stood in was white. The setting was that they were in none. But all too soon the moment of Patrick’s happiness had to end, and with him nothing ever ended on a happy note. IT ended with Zea being dragged backwards by an invisible force. Patrick found his outstretched hand around the knob of their shop and house. As he entered he noticed that books were strewn everywhere. As He rushed upstairs screaming for Zea He noticed a note on their bed. It said that the Angel of Death was to appear at the dock at midnight. Signed yours truly by the Italian mob. His past came back to haunt him. The scars of the wings that struck fear in the heart of the mobs across the city had been in retirement. Left to retirement after a close call. For her. Apparently his past had caught up with him. Patrick knew that he had to save her. He would gladly die for her giving himself up, unfortunately he knew that the mob didn’t work that way. After he was tortured and killed, likely in front of her she would die as well. He had to save her. The Angel of Death would descend down upon New York once more.

As always Patrick found himself next at the end of the pier. HE was in his usual garb for his former work as the Angel. He was this time loaded with far more guns then usual. He wore all black and a trench coat over the bullet proof vest. After he shot the first Mafioso time slowed down. He found himself running in slow motion down the pier killing mobsters quickly and indiscriminantly. His eyes however were never on them. His green eyes always fixed on the woman tied to the chair at the end of the pier. Time seemed to come to a halt, but he still moved forward. His mouth dropped open as he continued forward. The mobster at the end of the pier was lifting his gun, though not at Patrick. When Patrick had killed all the other remaining mobsters save that one he tried to level his gun at his love’s killer. Too late. As Patrick screamed it was too late. The man’s fingers had twitched thrice by now sending rounds into Zea’s stomach. He heard her cries in pain as he pulled his own trigger. Multiple times he squeezed it. He mortally wounded the mobster but already he had shot another three rounds into Patrick’s vest. Patrick found himself falling of the pier, along with the last mobster.

Patrick shot up in the white sheeted bed with a start and a yelp. He was in a cold sweat and panting. He looked around him noticing that he was in the nurse’s ward, with quite a few other sleeping students. Some of them had grins on their faces while others stirred unrestfully in their sleep. Patrick, ever the survivalist thought first as to why he was here and how he had gotten here. He realized that he had been drinking water before he came here and he remembered it tasting funny. He sighed, he was okay, and then, He stopped. He shot up out of his bead and ran past a nurse yelling at him to slow down and take it easy. As HE sprinted past her he took no heed in her words. He ran to his truck and got in. He locked the doors to the truck. He then started crying. He sobbed long and hard.

He failed. He could save her life. She had saved his which was how he met her in the first place. And when it came down to it he couldn’t return the favor. He could save her and he couldn’t help her. HE could help the one he loved the most. It made all of his actions worthless. If he could help the one he held dearest then who could he help?

He would find himself in his truck until the next school day crying and drinking.

It was just too much…

[wanderer]

Pain clouded his vision as the empty bottle smashed against the side of his skull. He his the ground hard as the first drops of rain fell from the darken sky. He looked up with bleary double vision as the large figure over him lifted up it’s foot and brought it down on his ribs. Curling up into the fetal position, the young boy did the best he could to protect his body from the blows of the large devil above him. The figure crouched down and hands wrapped around his small neck, squeezing hard enough that air could no longer reach his lungs. Small hands clawed at the hands around his neck and at the ground, seeking some way to release the boy from the hands of this demon. What it found was the neck of the shattered bottle which the boy then seized and drove upward into the dark mass above him. Hot, crimson life spilled over him as Eric watched the first time he had killed silently through the eyes of his younger self.

No time to rest, the demons were still around ready to take his life. No sooner had he pushed the dead body off of himself did the next foe appear. Why did he have a gun in his hand now? Who could say in the realm of dreams, but his young body took aim and fired a shot the hit between the eyes of the second figure. Blood and brains splattered across the ground as the gun vanished and the third figure appeared. Dodging at the last second away from the glittering steel in the shadow’s clutches, the young boy wrapped a thin steel garrote around the figure’s throat and pulled tight. It clawed and kicked violently for a while before it’s movement’s slowed and the figure fell to it’s knees. A few more seconds and it was motionless, dead, and the next adversary appeared from the darkness. The stench of blood was thick in the air now and the ground was completely crimson.

So the memory went, dark figures of the past approaching out of the shadows like creatures of the night. And through it all Eric managed to stay mostly one step ahead of flashing steel and blazing muzzles. Every now and again though the blade would bite his flesh or the bullet would pierce his body. And each agony would remind the wandering male that even here he was fighting for his survival against foes that were doing the same. The pools of heart’s blood rose till they covered the ex-assassin’s ankles and then his knees as the dead and dying floated in their own bodily fluids. Always was their one more to take their place as the one known as Eric stained his hands with the blood of others.

Then it stopped and all that was around him was the dead piled knee deep. He was covered from head to toe in the crimson life of the murdered and no mattered where he turned there was no light in this sea of blood. He turned slowly in place as he caught sight of figures in the distance. He could see their faces clearly now, the ones of those he had just slaughtered in this echo of a memory. They stood in front of a large set of dark iron gates and the college freshman knew he would find no angles in that place. They were calling him now, those he had killed and those that dwelled in the dark pit beyond those gate. He moved forward slowly, stepping on the backs of the dead as his eyes watched for new foes. When he arrived those that he had slain welcomed him as a brother and pushed him gently beyond the gates of no return. He turned as the doors closed and the last glimpse he caught from the world beyond was that of the one he called brother. Then there was darkness and nothing more.

Eric sat up suddenly, startling the nurse who had been overseeing the students drugged by the tap water. He looked around and saw a few others waking up as he was, the rest still unconscious for who knew how long. Grunting, the wandering male stood up and started to leave. (You can’t leave just yet. You need… to… have… a) The nurse stammered to a stop as Eric’s eyes turned on her. It wasn’t malice or threats that she saw there, nor a sense of sadness. The eyes that looked on her now were blank windows with no emotion reflected in them. “I have things to do.” Eric turned forward again as the nurse finally found her voice again. (Some of the students had unusual dreams when they were under. We need to know if you experienced anything like that while you were unconscious.) Eric paused, but didn’t turn around.

“I didn’t have any unusual dreams while I was out.” And what he said was true, for what he saw was his own memories playing out before his eyes. And when he went to sleep again tonight it would be the same. The same memory that would be played out the night after that and the night after that like it had for the past few years of his life. All that would change would be new faces added to the end next time his hands were stained with the blood of another. Other then that, there was nothing unusual about that dream at all.

[Geovanni]

Lunchtime in #259 Geovanni was taking the time to wander around the school and get an idea of it's layout so he wouldn't get lost trying to get around. He took a moment to take a drink at a fountain before continuing on his way.

He wasn't sure how long it took for his vision to start getting blurry. He was soon stumbling and fell over. His eyes got heavy and he shook his head to clear it. He opened his eyes and looked up at hearing a light voice.

"Come on Geo, you've got to be better than this. I only used a slow strike." Geovanni looked up and saw Maria standing there clad in her martial arts gi with a grin on her face.

Geovanni shook his head again. Something seemed wrong. He couldn't place it, but he attested it to the blow to his head. He rose to his feet and looked over at Maria. His head clearing quickly.
"Sorry about that. Lost focus." He said with a shrug as he resumed his stance.

Maria came in for an attack which Geovanni parried. The two started exchanging attacks, almost mirroring each other as Geovanni had been trained by Maria.
"That lack of focus will cost you in a fight Geo, you gotta keep on track." Maria said as she let her palm fly into his gut and sent him back before coming in again. Geovanni stepped to the side and kicked her leg out from under her sending her stumbling forward before letting loose with a kick to her ribs which sent her flying to the side. She was very still before slowly getting to her feet.

I beat her. Somehow that doesn't seem right. How could I beat her? Isn't she years ahead of me? I have never even came close to winning against Maria. He thought. Maria walked over and bowed which Geovanni did in return.

"Well that was a good match Geo. You really have gotten better over the past couple of years. So are you ready to catch that movie after a shower and a change of clothes?" Maria asked. Goevanni was struck speechless for a moment. Something seemed terribly wrong. Everything did after that kick.
Maybe it rattled my brain a little or something. My head still hurts, maybe I'll feel better after a nice shower. He thought.

He looked at Maria and nodded.
"Sure thing." He said as he headed off to shower and change.

He arrived in front of Maria's house where they had been training in the back, about twenty minutes later. He saw the door open and Maria walked out to meet him with a smile.

After the movie got out the two of them were heading back To Maria's house. About two blocks later they heard a screech and saw a car swerve and head toward them, clearly out of control.
They dived to the side and while Geovanni rolled to safety, Maria was clipped by the car and flung into a wall of a house. She then hit the ground and lay still.

Geovanni ran to her side and once more things grew hazy and he wavered before blacking out. When his eyes opened he was surrounded by flames. Each flame that licked against him seemed to rend his heart asunder.

He looked around and saw Maria before him.
"Why Geo? why did you do nothing for me? I thought we were something special to each other. How could you let me go like that?" She asked. Geovanni shook his head.
"No, I couldn't have done anything. It happened to fast. I couldn't do anything." He said. Maria started to look angry.
"You simply jumped away.You didn't even try." She said. Geovanni shook his head again.
"I couldn't." He said softly as the haze took over once more.

"I COULDN'T! NOT A DAMN THING!" Geovanni yelled as he shot up in bed at the infirmary. He looked around breathing heavily.
"Calm down boy. We found you in the halls unconscious. It's been happening here and there at the school. Like the others you appear to be fine. Now let's just get you yo class okay?' Said one of the nurses. Geovanni was silent for a moment before giving a nod.

On his way to his next class he looked out over the grounds of the school.
I'm Sorry Maria. Would you still be here had I focused on simply saving you? I don't know but I'm sorry I didn't try. He thought as he closed his eyes and sighed before continuing one his way.