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Thread: [M] 'Hunted' IC

  1. #1
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    Default [M] 'Hunted' IC

    There was nothing but darkness.

    Nothing.

    She clawed at her mind desperately, searched every crevice, but that was all there was. That and the indisputable feeling that something should be there. She could feel the blood pumping through her body, coursing like a wildfire that burned every inch of her figure. Each pore was a pin-prick of pain, like a needle slowly driving itself against her skin, the sheer number causing an agony of such intensity that, for that moment, it dominated all her other senses. She convulsed in her distress, blind, deaf and mute, mentally ripping at the emptiness inside of her.

    She held no concept of time but any onlookers would have witnessed her writhing last only a few minutes before her remaining strength diminished. Her body fell still although inside she remained in turmoil, a tortured soul without hope of escape.

    Relentless - After hours of slashing through the void in her mind, the barriers began to break down. One emotion seeped through.

    Fear.

    The feeling held no logic, unaccompanied by a reason, but her instincts told her it was justified. Whether in truth the danger was real or imagined, her body made no hesitation in visually displaying her terror to any around, reacting to the threat as though there was no doubt to its existence.

    Her heart pounded violently against her ribs as though attempting to break free from confinement, her entire body trembling, and her breaths reduced to weak, yet hastened, pants. Perspiration clung to her, each drop like boiling water burning at her flesh, yet deathly cold whenever the capricious wind would buffet her. Each alteration was like torture, every change causing her more and more agony. Tears welled up in retaliation but they scalded her eyes. It made no sense to her.

    Slowly, she became more aware of herself, more in control of what she was doing. Her nostrils twitched, inhaling the musty odour, repulsed by the underlying smell of mould and rot. Her fingers jerked erratically, tearing up the damp earth beneath her hands. It was silent except for the gentle whistling of the icy wind that stung her cheeks and sent shivers down her nude form.

    She didn’t know who she was and she didn’t know why that mattered but it felt wrong not to have an identity. She searched her mind for knowledge or memories but was faced again with nothingness. The least she could do was figure out her location.

    Tentatively, she opened her eyes, as though only just remembering how to do so.

    The first thing to grab her attention was the absence of colour. The bark on the trees was black, the leaves that grasped their branches a drab grey. They were strong, climbing up further than she could see - given her position against the forest floor - but the aura they gave off broke her heart. It was as though nature itself was slowly dying, leaving an atmosphere of despair. Fog clung to the surroundings, pressing down on her and hindering her ability to breathe. She felt smothered and the taste of the air felt strange, almost metallic. No matter where she looked, she was unable to see through the canopy to the sky. It caused her fear to spike further although she couldn’t work out why. Her eyes swivelled in their sockets, attempting to take in more of the environment, but lying on the floor as she was, her vision was limited. There were flickers of white all around but her eyes were too sore to make out detail.

    The helplessness of her situation tormented her. She pushed against the soil feebly with her palms, elevating her torso a few inches from the ground before her muscles gave in. Her face slammed down into the mud. If not for the fear burning inside of her, she would have abandoned hope.

    Again, she attempted to push herself up.

    The Hoover whirled in her hands, sliding over the carpet smoothly, devouring the mess that had been left by her family. Crumbs and dog hairs alike fell victim to the attack of the machine in her hands as she drove it chaotically around the furniture without mercy. She never thought she would be the type of woman to get excited over a new household appliance but the vacuum cleaner was like heaven compared to her previous. No need to go over the same spot a hundred times, this one got the same results in just one swoop! She giggled in excitement as she realised she might now have time to watch Loose Women, practically jumping up and down happily in the middle of her living room without a care as to who might see her through the drawn blinds. The radio played uselessly in the background, drowned out by the Hoover’s gurgling, but she didn’t like the music they played anyway. Pop songs and romantic lyrics were too naïve for her taste… or at least the new ones were. Fourteen-year-olds singing about heartbreak seemed almost a mockery of love.

    She chuckled as she thought about it, switching off the Hoover just in time to catch the phone ringing. Sometimes she thought she would kill for a moment’s peace. She had to sprint across the hallway so as to answer the call in time, leaping over the array of toys and unpacked luggage. She almost wished she hadn’t made the effort.

    “Hello, is that Mrs Davies? We are ringing to query whether you are satisfied with your current car insurance policy. Here at ‘Drive and Save’, we can offer y-…”

    She rolled her eyes and hung up on them mid-sentence.


    It wasn’t lack of strength that caused her to fall back to the ground this time, but shock. The memory flooded back to her without warning. Instead of comforting her, it just elevated her panic – Like a candle in a pitch-black cave, all it did was emphasise the emptiness in the rest of her mind. She curled into a ball, limbs continuing to jerk involuntarily, coughing fits racking her body, as the wind grew harsher.

    She wanted to lie there, refuse to move until her memories had returned, but the raging fear in the pit of her stomach called out to her, whispering one word,

    Run.

    A few minutes of frantic clawing at the dirt and she was finally able to summon the strength and knowledge to pull herself to her feet. Her success was not pleasant, met by stiff muscles and sore joints; it was tempting to lie back down again. Something in her mind encouraged her to move, however, despite the spasms of pain that shot up her thighs and back at every twitch of her body. She hunched over as liquid launched itself up her throat, scorching the inside of her mouth. Her recent lack of food and water meant that she was able to produce little in the way of vomit but that which she could was choked up over the forest floor without hesitation.

    The colourless leaves were so fragile that they began to rot the moment the fluid touched them.

    She clicked the button to lock her car, abandoning her vehicle in the middle of the shopping centre car park. Her children had just been dropped off at school, giving her the time to collect the food they would be needing that week. He would be returning home on Saturday so she would need to make sure to buy enough to feed all five of their family. She had to remind herself that her daughter had asked her to pick up orange juice. As usual, she had forgotten to write herself a list, instead attempting to remember the items off the top of her head.

    However, she was momentarily distracted by a small girl, perched on the wall outside the supermarket. She only looked to be about five years old, her blonde hair whipped by the breeze, the dress she wore smudged by grass stains. She casually ate sweets from a white paper bag clasped in her grubby hands. Her parents were nowhere in sight but she seemed at peace. Her unwavering faith in their return, a display of childlike innocence. The smile that appeared plastered on her face, proudly showing off the gaps in her teeth, a hint at her naivety. Kathryn diverted her gaze and entered the supermarket silently.

    When she exited two hours later, the child was gone. She could only pray that it was the parents that had picked her up.


    The forest weighed down on her, trying to drag her to the floor with its atmosphere. She refused to yield, the urge to run still burning inside of her. The memories that flashed before her eyes felt like those of a stranger, as thought she was watching someone else live their life. She couldn’t feel an emotional attachment to the children she knew she had and that was perhaps the worst thing of all. Her heart felt empty.

    Why?

    The question seemed to hold some depth. It repeated over and over in mind, drumming itself across all her thoughts. She did not know why she asked it but it seemed the very essence of the pain raging inside her. She wanted to force it from her mind. To distract herself. She squinted around the clearing, wanting answers more than anything.

    It was a shock to see so many share the space with her. They were people; she was sure of that fact. They jerked, their eyelids flickered. A few had even found their way to hands and knees as they tried to stand. They seemed… ghostly in appearance - The ground could be seen, albeit misty, beneath each of them. Was she the same? She looked solid to herself. A gut reaction of maternal instinct caused her to stumble towards the boy nearest her, a young thing with a blonde mop of hair. She only wished to help him to his feet, ignoring the thoughts – Why? Why? Why? - that pounded through her head without alteration. She stretched out an arm.

    Her hand went straight through him.
    Last edited by Auki; 07-18-2011 at 09:21 PM.

  2. #2
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    A massive throbbing headache, feeling like a spike to the side of the head caused him to slowly place his hands on his head, squeezing his eyes tight hoping that some how it would help but didn't. As if his body was playing "catch-up", he slowly felt some sort of cold on his back, shivers run around his entire body making his hairs stand on end. Placing one hand on whatever he was laying on, he sat up keeping the other hand to his head and just as he got halfway up, a loud BOOM made his head hurt even more. He wanted to shout or think about shouting but his head hurt bad enought to where thinking wasn't really a option to him.

    Once seating up fully, he slowly opened his eyes one at a time, not seeing anything at first and then a bright flash brought color to both eyes causeing him to jump back a little, letting out a slight groan of pain. The first thing he noticed was the frost beneath his hand as he tried to pick part of it up and place it in his hand to look at like a kid would with a shiney coin. Then it hit him, a cool breeze that caused yet another cold shiver run down his spine. Something about the wind and the ground told him something was off.....way off, yet he didn't know what or why. Placing his other hand on the ground, he decided to get up, and like a newly born horse, his legs shook under his weight, causing him to fall over a few times and stumble around like a drunk. This didn't give any ease the what was happening in his head, the throbbing continued as a slight ringing joined in. Finally getting his ballance, he leaned forward, placing both hands back to his head as he stumbled foward a bit, leaning onto a tree, or tree like object. As he hit the tree, a massive jolt knocked him onto his back.....

    Hugging a tree with both arms wrapped around the trunk, placed on his knees with his eyes covered, a feeling of shame ran through him. "You know why you are tied to that tree?" A voice said coming from behind him. "Answer me Shiruba!" Massive stinging was felt on his back, letting out slight grunts as each hit landed, making him clinch his teeth, and all at once it stopped. "Well....."

    "I.....I....didn't collect...." He said weakly as a few more stinging blows landed. "Ahh....it speaks...." The voice said yet again. "What did you think was going to happen once you told the Oyabun you didn't get all his money?" More hits were felt. "That he was just going to let it happen? We let one person slide, they all want to slide!" The stings turned into punches as they landed on his ribs and the back of his head, driving his face into the tree, the bark cutting his face a bit. "You should count yourself lucky Shiruba....I knew a guy who did the same thing you did and lost his head right there....the Oyabun likes you...he sees promise...I don't!" A kick was driven home to the side of his face, cracking his head off the tree once more but with force. "The orders are to leave you here for a few days and then you get your true reminder." A heavy laugh followed untill all faded away into a dark quite as he passed out.


    On his back, he sat back up. "...wh...what was....that?" He wispered as his head throbbed more as he got to his feet yet again, getting a queasy feeling then out of the pitt of his stomach, he let out liquid from his mouth as his stomach renched into him, it all fell to the base of the "tree". Leaning on the tree once more, he looked around with his eyes, they stung like the hits he felt in whatever just happened to him. He asked himself yet again the same question followed by a 'who am I...and who is this Shiruba?'. He pushed slowly off the tree and began walking, legs a bit like rubber bands as the ground was a bit slippery.

    Another BOOM followed by a light from the sky made his head ring once again, making him feel a bit more queasy. From a bit of walking and staring at the gound, he stopped and looked up. "WHAT THE.....?" His jaw dropped as he saw what looked like other people come and go like the flash from the sky. "HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME?" He shouted as he ran forward to a old man, slipping, face planting and sliding through the legs of the same figure he ran to. This is when he first noticed he had nothing covering his body, since he was more worried about what he saw that sent him on his back. "What is going on here?....." He looked around once more and saw more people flashing like light bulbs...on and off...on and off. "HELLO!?!?!" He screamed as he jumped to his feet, nearly falling again. Then a feeling from deep down inside him told him to shut up and be still, almost as if he was being watched. 'Where am I...and who am I?' He asked himself with his teeth pinched to each other like a vice, eyes locked to the ground as his body began to shake. 'Am I alone?'
    Last edited by NecroNama; 07-19-2011 at 08:13 AM.

  3. #3
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    "Holy Crap." Jason muttered angrily over his iPhone.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    It was new and shiny. His rich girlfriend Sarah, who's mother fucking rich, bought it for as birthday gift for his 24th birthday along with a cheerful kiss on the cheek. His sweet sweet girl. She had always been seen as a generous, unselfish girl by those around her, but each time she was told so she shrugged it off and looked away as if she didn't understand what they were saying. The fact that she was rich was obscured by wearing the plainest clothes to high school--grey sweatpants and a clean baggy white t-shirt. It was clear she didn't care for fashion and social status. Her brilliant, hilarious personality brought forth all the friends she needed.


    He had admired her all throughout high school. She brought warmth, affection and joy where every she went--actually, it followed her naturally, uplifting spirits, delivering content aura.
    They said the occasional "Hi." whenever they passed by, but nothing more until the one beautiful rainy afternoon.


    It was summer. The angry clouds promised precipitation, and the temperature never wavered any lower than its humid 35 degree Celsius. Jason, who almost never lost his calm, enraged by his best friend's betrayal, took out his anger on playing basketball. Thundering down the pavement, the dark orange ball flew between his legs and around his hands like never before. It was as if it was compelled to bounce back up to his desired place. He dunked it through the net angrily just as a downpour of rain smashed down from the heavens, soaking him entirely. He shivered and ran a hand through his matted hair. Wet cold clothing that was drenched in sweat and now in water clung to his lean muscular figure. Trapping the ball between his right arm and firm oblique, he smiled in satisfaction, as if he somehow expected on the storm.


    "Silly boy." said a familiar high pitched voice.
    Sarah stood in the rain a few meters away from him playfully twirling her key chain in one finger, curious. She wore shorts and a tank and looked at him as if she found something glowing under the sink.
    "Sarah." Was all he managed to say, a bit surprised to see her. They never met outside of school.
    "Why are you in the rain, silly? You're going to catch a cold."
    She wasn't flirtatious, this was her normal nature. So pure and innocent and wonderfully different from everyone else.
    "And so are you."
    A smile crept along her beautiful lips. Her eyes regarding him comprehendingly as if to say, touché.
    Deep inside he admitted she was attractive. A first; he never thought of her in that way. Perhaps the rain enhanced features. Silence fell.


    "Let's do something crazy." She said at last.


    It didn't take long to fall for Sara. He's never been knocked down so hard.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    "She was in what?' Jason yelled, shocked. Overcome with numbness. A moment ago he was clenching the receiver but now it slipped a little too freely from his grasp.
    "Sarah....was in an... accident..."
    The voice wasn't heard from the other line--he already bolted out the door without a moments hesitation.



    Grey, in different intervals of shades.

    Slowly, he brought himself up onto his knees, his muscles protesting, sleep still in his system. Before him lay moist, dirt ground and trees--each unimaginably tall with lush leaves layered so thick it canopied the sky entirely. A rotten odor in the air. What struck him was not the fact that he could not recall how he had landed here. It was that there seemed to be no pigment whatsoever--only shades. He looked around in bewilderment. Everything looked like the life was sucked out of them. It was as if he was stuck in a motionless picture and someone turned on the grayscale. Lifeless. Dull. And a little prosaic.


    A distressed woman with a stocky build desperately reached out towards him. Her skin sunk ghostly into his, her whole body white and transparent. He pulled away abruptly as if she had stung him and examined his hands, then body. Realizing he was more solid and real than she could ever be. This....ghost. He wildly whipped his gaze around, the fear settling in as she realized there were more people, just as pale and misty.


    "D-don't. Touch me."
    The words left his lips were a quiet whisper, almost mute.
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  4. #4
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    The sound of children's laughter filled the cool autumn air. It was early in the morning, and the lawns of every house in the neighborhood were glazed over with a fresh white sheet of snow. It seemed like one of those hallmark Christmas cards; the ones with the small suburban neighborhood and a happy family in front of it all, smiling their happy smiles and waving at absolutely nothing. But no, this was real moment, one that actually held personal significance. It was one of the few times he actually spent time with his children.

    Andrew lay in the snow, panting and laughing. His children bombarded him with snowballs, slowly getting closer and closer as he shielded his face and body from the blows. They were soon both on top of him, his daughter and son, giggling. Andrew could feel them breathing quickly, the warmth radiating off of them, their eyes closed and their faces buried deep into his chest struggling to find more warmth.

    He put his arms around them and caressed their head with his mittened hands,reveling in this moment and wishing he could spend much more time with them than he already did. They needed their father, and he definitely needed them much more, to keep him sane, no doubt about it. But, it wouldn't be too long until their mother came by to pick them up, his ex-wife.

    But, it wasn't the time to think of that. He needed to get the kids in, it was too cold out here.


    Way too cold.

    Andrew jolted awake, his body shivering violently. Had he been dreaming? No, it couldn't have been. It felt so real. Somehow he knew he'd been there, that it happened, but no matter how hard he tried to remember, he couldn't think of anything other than that snowy scene. Trying to remember anything else made him hit something, a barrier. He did have feeling though, a nagging feeling, like his body was telling him to get the heck out of there

    Andrew forced his eyes open and found himself staring at a mass of gray foliage, blocking out any view of the sky. It was an unsightly colour, something Andrew somehow understood to be unnatural. He began to panic and frantically look around. There was snow everywhere, fresh and white. Some of it formed a blanket over him, covering most of his body. He struggled to control his shaking body long enough to stand up while brushing the snow off. Andrew noticed he was nude, which, considering the circumstances, wasn't good. But somehow the air was nice and warm, like a nice thick blanket, conflicting with the chilling ground.

    He rubbed his arms to try and warm up his body faster and noticed ghostly figures standing and laying on the floor around him. He jumped back and tripped, falling backwards, heart racing. Where the hell was he?

  5. #5
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    Long, blonde locks caressed her soft, pale features as he held on tightly to her. Against her shivering, wet body this man was a fiery warmth that caused her to nuzzle frantically against his chest in hopes of regaining her own body heat. Despite her whining and crying like the child she was, he gently rocked her back and forth whilst he sat on the ground with one hand against the nape of her neck. Rain had been pouring profusely for days and was what caused the poor toddler to be soaked from head to toe with water, shivering in this man’s arms; the very same water caused her to slip and fall, skidding her knee against the concrete.

    Cooing in her ear comforted the young girl who continued to rubbed her nose against the man’s chest, tears seeping down her plump cheeks. Yellow hair, in the same hue of the man’s, though she never noticed this, caked onto her dripping wet face due to the rain and constant crying. All she wanted to do was snuggle, be warm, and sleep.

    He rose from his previously knelt position, cradling her in his arms as he ran her into the house. Quickly he tore off her wet clothes and dried her off before she could get sick, cleaning her wounded knees. Tears continued to ripple down her flushed cheeks as she placed her in a warm bath and forced her to get clean before she could cuddle with him and her teddy to sleep. “Ssh… Lydia.. Ssshh…” he then began to sing a song to her, which almost immediately stopped the tears. The little girl stared up at him in perplexion then awe. Once her hair was washed she reached up her tiny, pudgy hands up towards the man and folded her fingers numerous time in a grabbing motion while whining.

    Shaking his head with a soft smile, he lifted her from the tub, dried her off, then helped her put on warm, clean pajamas with kitties all over them. “Kit cat…” with her index finger she pointed at one of the numerous cats adorn on her pajamas, staring down at it.

    “Yes, Lydia… That is a kitty cat.” Again he smiled, then kissed her forehead before swooping her into his arms and spinning her around in a full circle; his smile grew as she giggled profusely. He stopped and fell backwards onto the bed, holding her against his chest so that their stomachs were against each other. The man reached over for a white teddy bear with a turquoise ribbon tied around its neck as the toddler continued to giggle against him, wiggling about though getting nowhere since he kept his freehand close to her. He held out the bear to her, locking his light eyes with her bright blues. “Whose this Lydia?”

    “Bear Bear!” she rolled onto her back and clapped her hands together, and then took the teddy bear out of his hand holding it tightly against her. “My Bear Bear…” as he nodded she laid her head against his chest with her eyelids drooping closed. “Nigh nigh…”



    “KIRI!” she woke up screaming with half of her face in mud. Lydia scrambled to her feet only to follow back into the wet, brown dirt with a light drizzle dripping onto her naked body. Again she attempted to spring to her feet, launching herself forward only to face plant into a small puddle. “Kiri!” Lydia cried once again, though she had no idea why or even who this name belonged to. Like drums in a raving marching band her heart beat against her chest, threatening to spring out of her mouth at that very second. Spitting mud out of her mouth left and right, she wiped at her eyes to get the dirt out of her vision.

    Her eyes trailed down and she realized that her clothes were nowhere to be seen, however, she was still covered. The mud had concealed her breasts and private region due to her laying stomach down in it, for whatever reason. After this she gazed around the vicinity and realized that she was surrounded by what looked to be apparitions. Once she noticed they were moving it caused her to jump slightly, knocking her back into the mud all over again.

    After letting out an aggravated sigh, Lydia pushed herself into a somersault then jumped to her feet more swiftly than she had expected to.

    “Practice makes perfect, Lydia! You need to wow the audience!”

    Tightly she gripped onto her temples, grinding her teeth together as she cringed. Lydia’s torso fell forward and she almost returned to laying flat on the muddy floor beneath her toes.



    Scorching, baking, aching, and burning. He felt as if he was being slowly cooked in an oven. Slowly he sat up from laying on the ground with a blank expression across his features as immense confusion settled in. The ground beneath him was cold, everything he lay his fingers across felt like ice, so why did he feel so terribly hot? Nothing was comprehensible to him, not right now.

    He gazed around the area only to see what appeared to be ghostly figures falling, walking, tripping about, and one doing a somersault then standing seamlessly. Musho reached his fingers up to his head in confusion, scratching at his scalp and then running his fingers through his black curls. What baffled him more was that the universe he awoken to seemed to be only in shades of grey, but that did not make sense; the world was in color, wasn’t it?

    Panic didn’t even reach him until suddenly he felt a throbbing pain in his head that pounded like an annoyed neighbor demanding the music to be turned down. He felled backwards, hitting his shoulder blades against the cold surface behind him.

    Years had passed with no word from the woman whom his heart belonged to. He had run off without a trace, so when he found out that she was pregnant with another man’s child he felt no form of jealousy, only sorrow and regret that he had ever left her side at all. Happiness was what he wished for her, forever and always, even if it meant that whom caused that gleeful feeling was no longer him. He hung his head in shame as he sat by his bedroom window, laying his cheek against his rested arms that sat on the windowsill.

    Silently his best friend approached to bring him sorrowful news that he did not want to give him. The younger man lingered by the door way, leaning against the door hinges with his lips tightly shut to somehow prevent him from relaying it. He knew better than to try to keep secrets for long, especially in this department. “She died, Musho,” finally the words left his mouth.

    Slowly he rose from his slouched position with his eyelids practically disappeared into their sockets as he cautiously turned to face his companion. The drummer boy organ pounded loudly in a panicked frenzy as his mind raced and prayed that it wasn’t who he knew it was. “…what?”

    Originally he had locked his eyes with Musho’s green irises, but now he could not get himself to keep eye contact as it fell to the cobbled floor beneath their feet. “She…” he tugged at the collar of his white button up shirt, then crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Emotional confrontations were never his forte, nor would they ever be. “offed herself.”

    Musho immediately rose to his feet, pressing his bare skin against the cold, stone flooring and walked over to him. Disbelief, anguish, and heartbreak were evident upon his features as his lips contorted as if they had no idea what expression to make, his eyes began to swell with hot tears, and his eyebrows twitched. “No… no… Kisha would never do that… she… would never…”

    His friend shook his head. “She did… I… I heard it was…” regret stirred within him; he truly believed it was all his fault and explaining further would admit to this.


    Returning to reality Musho’s hands tugged at his hair, pulling out some of the strands. Somehow he felt if he tormented his head that the memory would continue and he’d gain an understanding of what was going on and who he was, even if the memory was nothing but pain.

    Hayabusa made me a pretty.

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  6. #6
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    The day was turning, fading and becoming dull while intermittent with the hues of red. Perhaps a sign, perhaps nothing more than termination of the sun. Which in turn, perhaps a sign.

    Beneath the endless layers and hidden from the sky, he lay.

    And that was it. He, identity free, with a sense of confusion as a guide through the endless empty corridors of mind. And there it was. It, completely free, without a sense of consideration as it tore through the mind, muscles, bones of his body.

    Pain. Agony.

    An aging body with problems of old, hands stiff that could barely move without hurting. Eyes that couldn't adjust to the red. Breathless at suddenly being aware he folded under the pressure – twisting his body to escape only brought more problems.

    A right leg that pounded below the knee, drowning out any other feeling that preceded it. Each moment brought a new ache...

    ~~~

    They weren't far from the main home, it's light could be seen flickering in and out between the trees. The bulb ready to blow and place the old porch into darkness. It would fade from sight before reaching that point. The emptiness of the wild was daunting, now.

    His feet made a scraping track through the dead leaves and into the shallow dirt. The strength had faded long ago so he simply dragged along. Exhausted from fight and flight he couldn't call for help that wouldn't come. He was bound but not gagged, he breathed out heavily.

    Pulled by someone through the trees on a trackless route, he didn't know where to.

    “Howard, remember me?” Whispered a voice, hardened by time into something near savage. His head rang with the words trying to focus on them. But he couldn't remember.

    A second later he fell backwards hitting a hard flat surface, a look to the right revealed the bitumen of the highway. His blurry eyes revealed a person walking over his body holding something in hand. He paused for a moment looking to Howard's face.

    Just below the knee, this figure struck.

    With the hammer.


    ~~~

    A tear ran down the side off his face. He was bent over holding himself together. He lay unmoving, breathing, his face pressed up against the black earth. Clinging silently waiting for the image to fade. Slowly, it went.

    In place the pain remained a silent reminder, throbbing. Intertwined with a fear beyond the loss of identity and being naked in an unknown place. And another fear, something else which couldn't be explained by him yet.

    He took some time to rise to his feet, it was a shaky process but he managed it. He swayed backwards and forwards looking around his surroundings. Voices, he heard all around though he couldn't locate their origins. Even with his blurry vision the only things that resembled people blinked in and out of his vision, as if ghosts that weren't there at all.

    One of which came toward him, falling through his legs. He took a step backward but the transparent figure went through him. He stepped away to try to get a good look at the figure but his couldn't see well, he squinted and ask hesitantly, “is that someone there?”

  7. #7
    Member The Shadow's Avatar
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    Silence. That is all there was. He couldn’t even hear the sound of his own shallow breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness, seeing flashes of the world around him whenever he managed to open his eye. His was face down in the dirt and some of it had managed to get past his lips and into his mouth. He spat, trying to rid himself of the dirt. He found just enough strength to roll over onto his back and open his eyes enough to catch a glimpse of the leaves being blown around in the apparent wind.

    It was a cold day, the coldest of the year in fact. He shivered as he walked down the dark street, slipping on the icy pavement every now and again as he headed for work. There were various people doing the same and the occasional group of people throwing snowballs. He smiled as one went whizzing past his head and threw one back. There was an uproar of laughter as the projectile sailed over his intended target and landed disappointingly on the ground. The laughter continued as he was pelted by the snowballs, trying his best to avoid them but to no avail.

    Pain swiftly replaced the silence. He felt like he was being repeatedly hit over the head with a hammer as he fought for control over his own body. Only when the pain had subsided enough, he tried to stand. He clenched his jaw as he stumbled towards a tower object which he could only assume was a tree. Gasping for breath he looked around and saw other people struggling to stand just as he was. It took him a minute to register the others were in the nude, he glanced down at himself to see that he was also lacking in clothing. All he could do was watch as the people around him stumbled around.

    After a while he had enough faith that his legs weren’t going to fail him to stumble over to the person nearest him, an old man. He watched as someone else fell at his feet….no….he fell through his feet. Staring in awe, he stepped back and tripped, falling down to where he had started from. He tried to speak, to call to old the man but only a faint whimper escaped his lips as his body shook in fear, trying to find an explanation for what he had just seen. Shaking his, head he attempted to recompose himself and tried to call out again. This time his voice came out, shaky but audible.

    “You…old man….what’s going on here? Who are you!?”

    It was at that moment it hit him, he didn’t even know who he was. Not even a name could come to mind. He had no identity and that scared him more than the fact he had just woken in a strange environment with people he had never seen in his life.
    Last edited by The Shadow; 07-21-2011 at 04:11 PM.

    Avi and Sig by Wattz

  8. #8
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    There was no sound to wake him up. He opened his eyes nonetheless. A feeling that he could not yet understand invaded his whole body as he was becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. Even though he woke up in a world he never saw before, he did not felt strange to the place. He was discovering this new world, his new reality. Actually, it was the only reality he knew for the moment. Lying face to the floor, the man tried to stand up. Using both of his hands, he pushed his upper body and succeeds to get on both his knees. Only then, the man realized he felt the air equally on his own body, which was an unusual feeling. As he looked down his whole body, he then realized no cloth was covering his bare skin as he was completely naked. The reason why he was in that situation eluded him. He tried to gather souvenirs and memories but nothing came. The man’s gaze lost itself in the floor of leaves under him as he didn’t understood too why he couldn’t remember. Acting as if it would change anything, he stretched his legs and stood completely up. It’s only then he saw it. The man turned around several times, looking left and looking right but only to see the same forest and the same trees surrounding him. He looked up only to get blinded by some light trying to get through the trees. But he was blinded only by some strange light that had no color, no real texture. Only then he realized the world around him had no color, no texture. It was all monochrome. His whole world was black and white. As he put his hand in front of him to see his own body in grey…

    …a watch was attached around his wrist.

    The man didn’t understand what he just saw. For a moment, he felt a glimpse of another place, another time. However, it seemed as if it was happening at the same time. He discarded these thoughts with a shock of his head and tried to focus on the now and here. As well as few moments ago, he was longing for memories and answers, now he had come to understand that these did not really matter. What mattered were the moment and his situation. Rather than focusing on what wasn’t important, he tried to ask himself the right questions.

    A loud engine noise and a strong wind.

    Another glimpse of the other side. He tried to put these images and sounds someplace else in his mind, thinking that they were bothering him rather than anything else. But the more secluded he tried to put these thoughts the more they tried to force their way back. His foot made some steps forward but after few of them he stopped. In front of him were these white forms, pale bodies as au naturel as he was, as lost as he looked. And they disappeared as well as the forest to…

    …a stair made of steel who was leading down to the tarmac. The engine of the military transport aircraft was still bursting a couple of meters next to him. At the far end of the ship, a ramp touched the ground and some men were already getting out of it, followed closely by cargos being disembarked. This time, the man was fully dressed and fitted his surroundings. Boots, cargo pants, a short sleeved t-shirt topped by another piece of cloth topped again by a thin brown bullet-proof vest with pockets and everywhere. He also noticed he had a very big and complex watch that looked like it could sustain the end of the world in one wrist and a wristband made of a piece of cloth on the other side. The scenery in front of him involved a very hot weather, but nothing he wasn’t used to judging by his used clothes, dry trees, and a nearly desolated airport. The man put his backpack half his size on one shoulder and went down the stair where a man next to a jeep was waiting for him. The other man was local, blacked-skin, wearing a pair of glasses, well dressed.

    “Welcome to Nigeria, Mister […].”

    They both shook hands.

    “You must be Mr. Tambossa. Olivier, is that it?”

    They almost had to shout so one could be understand by the other. The local confirmed his identity and he invited the man to hop in the jeep with the blue and white “UN” label. He threw his bag at the back and sat next to it while Olivier went into the driver’s seat and started the car. They quickly left the airport and soon, the road became bumpy and rocky. In fact, they were not real road so to speak and even though after several contracts in this part of the world, he never got used to the roads. The jeep was going through the savannah as it lifted the dry clay behind them. The colored sun was hitting him really hard.

    “So, what are you doing in this part of the world exactly, Mr. […]?”

    “I am an independent UN contractor brought in to be in charge of transportation of UN supplies in and out of the Sangala region.”

    Once again, they had to shout instead of speaking.

    “What are you running from then?”

    “Excuse me?”

    “If you choose to come working in Nigeria, there must be something you are running from. This is the worst and last part of the world someone would want to work unless he is running from something.”

    The thought made both of them laugh. There was something true in what the chauffeur was saying. Only passionate or desperate persons came to work in this part of the world.

    “I assure you, I’m not running anywhere. Do you have what I asked for?”

    The chauffeur, while driving, searched for something under the passenger seat next to him and pulled out a black briefcase made out of a strong casing. Olivier gave it to the man at the back. He opened it and checked inside the supplement he asked. He strapped the short machete on the side of his backpack, attached the jackknife to his ankle, fastened the harness and the gun in it around his leg and his waist, then put his new official papers and UN clearance in his pockets and finally strapped the blue UN armband around his right arm.

    “Even though these are not standard equipment for UN official, I can understand why you need them. These so called Brothers of Liberty are just hired guns and mercenaries who run the Sangala region for their business and their money.”

    “Then why does the government or even the people let them do as they wish?”

    “Their leader, François Embike is an intelligent man. He supplies the population with food, running water, medication and even in some place electricity.”

    The last bump was felt and then the 4x4 stopped. They had arrived in a camp revolving around a hangar for the supplies coupled with a white UN tent. They were armed soldiers surrounding the zone. At the entry of the tent was a woman that seemed to be in charge of things, shouting orders and making signs with her arms. She was lightly dressed and just as him, she had the UN armband.

    “This is where I leave you. We will see each other soon. I hope you will enjoy Nigeria, Mr. […].”

    Having a hard time removing his eyes from her, he said:

    “I’m already starting to like it…

    …here”.

    The colors completely disappeared and he went back to the dark place. What he experienced was of the utmost strangeness. It felted vivid and real, like he had once lived that moment. However, he discovered what was happening and at the same time, he knew what he was supposed to say and do. The lack of color in this world was even more obvious. Everything was tasteless and sad. And these human transparent forms looked more and more frightening. They looked human but seemed so vague that it they could just vanish and be no more in a simple kicking of the wind. And then suddenly, it stroked him. That feeling buried deep inside in his bones, he could finally understand what it was. It wasn’t only the hot and heavy air that he felt, it was anguish. A profound and ponderous anguish. The anguish of not being able to hear his own name, the anguish of being in an unknown place, the anguish of seeing these human indistinctive forms, that feeling that they was something else, the feeling of not knowing, the feeling that not only something was being done to them, but that this was just the prelude of something.

  9. #9
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    ‘Wake the fuck up! Wake up!’
    Edgar woke up, irritated at being called upon. He waved his hand to swat his girlfriend away from him. It didn't work.


    Edgar eyes opened to blackness. Not the type of the black associated with unconsciousness but rather the black associated with looking at black objects on a black background. He started at the tiny blades of grass right in front of his eyes growing in patches off of the black soil. He reached for what looked to be a weed and pulled it. It bent and gave way under his grip like any other plant. Letting go, all movement suddenly stopped.

    The question of 'where he was' come up in his skull came up and all life froze. A numb buzzing burning in the front of his skull hit him when the question of who he was in the first place. He froze digging his fingers into the damp soil a chill hit his bare body and he shivered tightening his grip on the soil.


    She'd left him, for real this time. He'd never used those words before. She’d left, he'd left, they'd left mutually a couple times too but this time this time she was really gone.

    The window in front of him smashed and his fist burst right through it. Blood dripped from his palms and knuckles. It hurt but nowhere near as painful as the idea that he never open his eyes and see her right there next to him. Her breath slow, soft on his forehead as he watched her chest rise and drop with every breath before her breath fell on his lips, caressing them with each breathe she took. It was impossible to picture one so lively so at peace.

    Now the sense of contentment would be lost for him and given to another. And still the question hung over him. How could it be over. How could this be it?


    Edgar’s left hand clenched instinctively as he gripped the sand hard, feeling burn as it was pushed out of his palms. There were no scars there. Only dark marks where there had been blood. That had been him. He hadn’t been able to share the sensations as the man but he knew the skin tone the blind fear and utter lose, because he was feeling it now. It hurt more than anything else for everything use was just numb and heavy, useless. He squirmed on the floor pressing himself deeper into the sand, waiting.

    He waited in the dirt. Waiting for everything to make sense. Nothing happened nothing changed everything stayed the same even the chill of the wind kept a constant pace.

  10. #10
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    She started when he jerked back from her, still dazed by her inability to touch his skin. Her mouth hung slightly open, heavy pants still trying to compensate for lungs that burned when filled more than halfway. Her hand stayed suspended where his arm had been just moments ago; she didn’t want to move it. The icy chill she had felt upon entering him began to fade as the cool air caressed her, the wind again pausing in its buffets for a few moments. It was as though the world was trying to give her time to comprehend but she knew, even with an eternity to think, she would never understand the situation fate had thrust upon her.

    "D-don't. Touch me."

    His words tugged at her heart, “I-… I don’t mean harm…” She spoke with a hurt demeanour, extended hand trembling with uncertainty. The spirits in the clearing seemed just as helpless as she did – They stumbled, fell and quivered with the same aura of terror that was barbed into her body as well. Could they feel emotion the same way she could? Did ghosts feel pain? If they couldn’t, she concluded, there was no way they would look so terrified.

    He read his book, thick-rimmed glasses seated firmly on his hooked nose. She looked at him. It had been a while since she’d looked at him properly.

    He was not many years older than she was but age seemed a crueller master to him. Hair that was once black was now speckled, silver and white clinging to the edges and clear on the beard he kept so neatly trimmed. The angles on his face had grown harder over time – He had started losing weight just over a year ago now, through exercise or stress she wasn’t sure, but it was making him appear gaunt. The wrinkles around his eyes creased as he blinked, scanning the pages at impressive speed. He had been reading the book in hand for a few days now but she couldn’t recall its name. He claimed it was a favourite of his but had never mentioned it before a few weeks prior. It did not seem like the type of book she would enjoy anyway; it was too complex for a woman of her background. He was, in all honesty, far more intelligent than she could ever hope. She would often find herself nodding along to conversation without a shadow of understanding present in her mind.

    There was a break in the silence as he began to flick the page over to the next.

    “Daniel?” The words had left her mouth before she could take them back.
    He paused, waiting.
    “Daniel… Are you alright?”
    “Get some rest, Cat.” The conversation ended there.


    Each memory slamming back into her mind caused her to feel heavier, like a weight on her shoulders dragging her to the ground. Considering the shaky nature of her legs, it was a wonder she had not fallen in the dirt already. Her head reeled with new information, still trying to process the present stimulation of her senses as it filed away memories she only just discovered she had.

    They couldn’t just stand there. They had to run. Something told her that much was urgent.

    Wildly she re-evaluated the ghosts around her. There were things she had not noticed before, muted by her desired to be cautious. Little things…

    The young girl, white hair sprawled where she lay face down on the ground, took her attention first. Even in the misty white of the apparition, she could see the girl’s clothes were caked with what appeared to be mud. Her skin appeared to be coated in tiny droplets of water. She tried to nudge the girl but found her toes went through the body, the same as with the boy. It’s strange, she thought as she looked down, there isn’t any mud. The dirt seemed not to have taken rainfall in months.

    Stepping back, she glanced around again. A man caught her attention, one whom seemed to be addressing the eldest of the group. He was a pretty, young thing – light-coloured eyes and the stubble neatly trimmed along his jaw line. She liked stubble on a man – that part of her flashed back into existence as she watched him – but the feeling was instantly crushed by terror again. She focused on what had caught her attention - His hair… It flew wildly about as though being tousled by wind. It was a curious sight; after all, the air was still now.

    A man closer to her age, receding hairline clear beneath his dark hair and stubble clinging disorderly to his cheeks, stumbled back and she blinked when she saw dirt being kicked into the air. The earth… She watched it fall with amazement – Could ghosts touch the physical world so freely?

    Hesitant, she lowered herself to the ground and picked up a small twig lodged beneath her feet. Returning to a standing position was a pain she would rather not repeat but life was not offering her much in the way of choices. She gritted her teeth and unbent her knees, a soft groan of agony emitting from clenched teeth.

    A man with thin lips and hardened features became her target. He was on his hands and knees, a few paces in front of her. She raised the twig.

    Her giggle was not as feminine as most women’s but it was sweet. At the moment, it was filled with unbridled joy. Nervous, but happy none-the-less. Her fingers trembled violently in her excitement – Sure, she’d done the charade three times before but that didn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. Her mind was denying the pain and exhaustion she knew would be coming and allowing her to appreciate the moment.

    Punching the number into her phone was difficult due to her quivering hands but she eventually managed. It felt like hours before her partner finally picked up,
    “Daniel! Daniel, you’ll like never believe it! I thought it might be true - We’re going to have another one, Dan! I’m pregnant again – Gonna have four kids, just like we always said!” It was difficult to pretend what she knew to be feigned excitement in his voice as genuine but she managed.


    The twig left her hand a little more violently than she’d anticipated as unexplained hurt welled up inside her. It smacked into the back of the guy’s head, bouncing off with a sharp thud. She blinked – It had touched him.

    She continued to stare at the man but her voice was loud enough to address the entire group, “Does this mean you’re not ghosts…?”

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