Zane took a deep breath and looked one more time into the blank and cold eyes of his reflection and tried to calm down. With one aggravated gesture of his arm the mirror disappeared. Neither his eyes or he was surprised by this. It was almost as if he knew it was going to happen.
"Okay, what do you want with me?" Zane said looking at the man and soon realizing that his eyes could show annoyance. The man in front of him gave him somewhat of a proud look. Which made Zane roll his eyes and with just the thought of flying out of the center of the earth, or where ever it was they were he was flying through its every layer faster then he had come down. Soon he was back on the sidewalk where he had started this crazy journey though he knew nothing would ever be the same again.
Though the story has ended this won’t be the last you see of Zane. He’s still around here somewhere. Its just that nothing is coming for him anymore. In fact it may be quite the opposite now…
(If you're wondering why he isn't narrating anymore, well he won't... not anymore.)
Saturday, February 18, 2012
He's coming for you (part 3)
“Zane, you are dead.” The man told me in the same odd and creepy way that he had spoke before, with his mouth open but nothing moving. My eyes went wide. It was impossible. How could I be dead. I just didn’t understand. Then an image, that he must of put in there, came to me. It was a fight with my father. He hit my mother again and I hated it. To get him to stop I attacked him. The attack ended badly though and he drew a knife and killed me then my mom came up behind my father. In her hand was my father’s handgun that he kept in his dresser drawer. When my father turned to face her she sent a bullet straight through his head.
When the vision was over I stood dumbfounded for a moment. I couldn’t understand how this was possible. “Why? Why did you bring me here? Why am I not out in the forest with the rest of them?” I asked him and he smiled. Which was unnerving seeing as his pointed dripping teeth showed all to well.
“You, young man are here to join me.” He told me then put one hand on my shoulder. His nails were long, pointed, and black. When his hand rested on me for a while I could feel a tingling starting at the top of my head and ending at the tips of my toes. I didn’t fight it though. I had no idea how or why I would. I was dead after all. When the tingling stopped a burning feeling arose and I was frozen, I couldn’t move. My teeth clenched and my eyes watered, all I could do was stand there and bare the inferno of pain.
I stood there for what seemed like hours. When he was done a wall of what looked like a huge mirror stood in front of me. There I could see a man, not the creepy red man who took me here but a different one. This one had long tangled black hair. His eyes were as red as crimson. His nails were short but still black and pointed. I wanted to see if his teeth pointed as well. Oddly enough when I opened my mouth his did too. When his mouth opened sharp jagged teeth appeared. I moved my hand up to touch my own mouth and he moved his hand too. Then, I realized that scary man in the mirror was me. I knew it deep down from the moment I saw it, but I didn’t want to believe it. Now there was no denying. I was this monster in the mirror. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same black, old time Victorian Gothic suit that the man in the mirror was. Fear and shock should have been showing in my eyes but instead in those red eyes of my reflection there was nothing. I looked perfectly calm and unaffected by anything even though I was as scared as a young child.
What have I become?
When the vision was over I stood dumbfounded for a moment. I couldn’t understand how this was possible. “Why? Why did you bring me here? Why am I not out in the forest with the rest of them?” I asked him and he smiled. Which was unnerving seeing as his pointed dripping teeth showed all to well.
“You, young man are here to join me.” He told me then put one hand on my shoulder. His nails were long, pointed, and black. When his hand rested on me for a while I could feel a tingling starting at the top of my head and ending at the tips of my toes. I didn’t fight it though. I had no idea how or why I would. I was dead after all. When the tingling stopped a burning feeling arose and I was frozen, I couldn’t move. My teeth clenched and my eyes watered, all I could do was stand there and bare the inferno of pain.
I stood there for what seemed like hours. When he was done a wall of what looked like a huge mirror stood in front of me. There I could see a man, not the creepy red man who took me here but a different one. This one had long tangled black hair. His eyes were as red as crimson. His nails were short but still black and pointed. I wanted to see if his teeth pointed as well. Oddly enough when I opened my mouth his did too. When his mouth opened sharp jagged teeth appeared. I moved my hand up to touch my own mouth and he moved his hand too. Then, I realized that scary man in the mirror was me. I knew it deep down from the moment I saw it, but I didn’t want to believe it. Now there was no denying. I was this monster in the mirror. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same black, old time Victorian Gothic suit that the man in the mirror was. Fear and shock should have been showing in my eyes but instead in those red eyes of my reflection there was nothing. I looked perfectly calm and unaffected by anything even though I was as scared as a young child.
What have I become?
He's coming for you (part 2)
I didn’t know what to do? I didn’t know if this was the end for me. Though I had to get out of the little convenient store. I had to get home. I searched the shelf high and low for books on this beast but failed to find anything helpful. I took in a deep breath and stepped toward the door. As I inched closer I could see his long red limbs stretch out to me. I kept walking, pretending it didn’t phase me, pretending that I wasn’t afraid of this thing. When I got to the door, the scary man had disappeared. I didn’t dare take a sigh of relief yet though. Instead I waited, waited for what I knew would happen. He would come back, surprise me but I wouldn’t be surprised. I could only hope that helped.
When I made it out the door I took in the light coming from the setting sun. Then I walked, at a leisurely pace not showing an ounce of fear. Surprisingly I made it half way home without feeling eyes on me, hearing foot steps, or feeling anyone around me. Though that soon changed when I was walking by the forest near my house. The sun was almost gone now and I was starting to see ghost like figures dancing through the trees of the forest. I stopped and rubbed my eyes then looked the forest over, thinking that I must have been imagining things. I was wrong. The figures didn’t disappear. In fact they got more vivid. I could now see their faces and even what they were wearing. Some were in old garments clearly from the time of America’s first settlement here. Others looked so up to date they could have died yesterday. I couldn’t look away even when I heard the footsteps behind me, and heard them get closer.
Then it occurred to me, well two things did. One, I had never seen these things before, and two that the beast I saw out the convenient store window must have brought them here. Suddenly the man’s breath was down my neck again and I could feel his arms take a hold of me. When I looked behind me this time, there he was. I could see his big black eyes that looked like black holes, empty and horrifying. I could see every age line his face bore and his detached jaw where his large pointed teeth sat. The man’s mouth was open as if he was either going to take a chunk out of me, or he was simply going to talk. Thankfully it was the second one. His lips didn’t move and neither did his tongue but words seemed to come out in a deep ominous voice as clear as day. “I am death.” The voice said.
This was actually a relief to me. At least he wasn’t going to torture me. Though I still didn’t want to die. Suddenly the arms that were fastened around my chest started to pull me down, to pull me through the sidewalk I stood on. Either hell was real or something was going on here. We made it through the layers of the earth. There was the crust then solid rock, then the magma started showing up. Though I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t dying as he pulled me through it. We must have ended up somewhere near or in the center when he finally stopped. Then he walked himself in front of me. The questioning look on my face said a million words without having to open my mouth.
When I made it out the door I took in the light coming from the setting sun. Then I walked, at a leisurely pace not showing an ounce of fear. Surprisingly I made it half way home without feeling eyes on me, hearing foot steps, or feeling anyone around me. Though that soon changed when I was walking by the forest near my house. The sun was almost gone now and I was starting to see ghost like figures dancing through the trees of the forest. I stopped and rubbed my eyes then looked the forest over, thinking that I must have been imagining things. I was wrong. The figures didn’t disappear. In fact they got more vivid. I could now see their faces and even what they were wearing. Some were in old garments clearly from the time of America’s first settlement here. Others looked so up to date they could have died yesterday. I couldn’t look away even when I heard the footsteps behind me, and heard them get closer.
Then it occurred to me, well two things did. One, I had never seen these things before, and two that the beast I saw out the convenient store window must have brought them here. Suddenly the man’s breath was down my neck again and I could feel his arms take a hold of me. When I looked behind me this time, there he was. I could see his big black eyes that looked like black holes, empty and horrifying. I could see every age line his face bore and his detached jaw where his large pointed teeth sat. The man’s mouth was open as if he was either going to take a chunk out of me, or he was simply going to talk. Thankfully it was the second one. His lips didn’t move and neither did his tongue but words seemed to come out in a deep ominous voice as clear as day. “I am death.” The voice said.
This was actually a relief to me. At least he wasn’t going to torture me. Though I still didn’t want to die. Suddenly the arms that were fastened around my chest started to pull me down, to pull me through the sidewalk I stood on. Either hell was real or something was going on here. We made it through the layers of the earth. There was the crust then solid rock, then the magma started showing up. Though I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t dying as he pulled me through it. We must have ended up somewhere near or in the center when he finally stopped. Then he walked himself in front of me. The questioning look on my face said a million words without having to open my mouth.
Friday, February 17, 2012
He's coming for you (part 1)
I decided to go for a walk. It took me a few blocks before I felt it, this overwhelming sense that someone was watching me. I couldn't help but to look around, first left then right, then behind me. There was nothing there. With a sigh I just figured it was my paranoia again. I tried to ignore it as the breeze made my baggy gym shorts blow in the wind. A few cars went by before I heard something to confirm my suspicions. I could hear what sounded like footsteps not far behind me. I quickly turned around but I could find nothing there, where I swear I heard the foot steps. I didn't know what was going on though I figured it had to be all in my head. I kicked a rock half way to the convenient store. Then I heard an unmistakeably heavy breathing. I shook my head to clear it and passed it off as paranoia yet again. It wasn't long before I could feel that heavy breath down my neck. I ran to the convincing store. When I got into the store I was out of breath but the breath down my neck was finally gone. I looked at the old store owner behind the counter. I'd never been so grateful to a complete stranger. I got the milk and bread for the house that my mother asked though I wasn't ready to go back out there, alone. I just knew what ever was breathing down my neck would come back. I could never have just imagined that! Though I didn't know what to do. I couldn't stay in the store forever. So I had to talk to the clerk.
"Sir?" I asked politely. "Did you see anyone behind me when I walked in?" I asked him looking nervously out the window of the doors. The man simply gave me this wide eyed look as if saying 'yes, and you're screwed.' which was oh, so reassuring. "What did you see?" I couldn't help but ask him. After all, what ever it was, I couldn't manage to turn around fast enough to see it.
The man simply shook his head and I gave him a look that said 'REALLY?' The man then sighed and opened his mouth to talk, he must have changed his mind for some reason, thankfully. "He... he was behind you. Breathing down your neck. He's coming for you." The man said with an accent I could not recognize. While the man was telling me this he was pointing behind me somewhere. When I looked I could see some sort of religious symbol on a shelf. On it was a what looked like an old man, who happened to be red all over with dripping fangs coming from his mouth.
Of course my question was, "Who is he?" I asked holding the little painted display.
The man's first response was definitely in another language. One that I never so much as heard of. Then he corrected himself by translating it into English. "The god of punishment, or torment." He told me then backed away from me as if I had some kind of incurable disease. The key word being incurable. I was panicking, I didn't know what to do. Then suddenly, out the window of the continent store I could see him, he was waiting for me. I couldn't stay there forever.
"Sir?" I asked politely. "Did you see anyone behind me when I walked in?" I asked him looking nervously out the window of the doors. The man simply gave me this wide eyed look as if saying 'yes, and you're screwed.' which was oh, so reassuring. "What did you see?" I couldn't help but ask him. After all, what ever it was, I couldn't manage to turn around fast enough to see it.
The man simply shook his head and I gave him a look that said 'REALLY?' The man then sighed and opened his mouth to talk, he must have changed his mind for some reason, thankfully. "He... he was behind you. Breathing down your neck. He's coming for you." The man said with an accent I could not recognize. While the man was telling me this he was pointing behind me somewhere. When I looked I could see some sort of religious symbol on a shelf. On it was a what looked like an old man, who happened to be red all over with dripping fangs coming from his mouth.
Of course my question was, "Who is he?" I asked holding the little painted display.
The man's first response was definitely in another language. One that I never so much as heard of. Then he corrected himself by translating it into English. "The god of punishment, or torment." He told me then backed away from me as if I had some kind of incurable disease. The key word being incurable. I was panicking, I didn't know what to do. Then suddenly, out the window of the continent store I could see him, he was waiting for me. I couldn't stay there forever.
Liam's Story
Liam started out as Liam Xavier Kingston but when his family was killed in their sleep and little Liam was only three years old he was sent to an orphanage. They never did find the person who killed little Liam’s parents. There in the orphanage he was teased for being a big cry baby. He cried a lot because he missed his family and he just didn’t know where he fit in, in this world. He felt like he didn’t belong. Being an unwanted three year old orphan could take its toll on a child. He was constantly bullied. They told him that no one wanted him, that he was broken, stupid, or too soft. Of course that didn’t really help, it just upset the four year old even more. Liam wasn’t stupid though, or broken, he was smart, very smart. He knew his parents were killed. He knew where he was and he hated it there. He was only four but he understood more than many of the children that were older than him. None the less, smart or stupid he was only a child and couldn’t stand all the bullying. In response to this nonstop torment he created Xander unconsciously who never cried and beat up anyone willing to fight him. He created Xander when he was only five years old after all he had no one to talk to, no one to help him, he was all on his own and he knew it. Xander was a big bully and king of the orphanage until a boy, bigger and meaner than Xander, came along. He beat both of Liam’s personality senseless with the help of his posse. Liam was only seven when this happened and was beaten unconscious. When he woke up two weeks later, the care people of the Orphanage noticed something strange about Liam. Something scary that they never even thought to see in a little seven year old boy. It was something in his eyes, something unsettling. The day he was let out of the infirmary he killed the bully who knocked him unconscious and his posse which coincidentally in all added up to seven children, thus earning the name Se7en. From their on out he was sent from one mental hospital to the next. In every one someone angered him, being as crazy and clever as he was managed to make his way out of his straight jacket and killed who ever it was who angered him and they were always anyone in the mental hospital that thought they were the head of the place, even if they actually were. After killing the leader of an Insane Asylum in England where he came from he was shipped to the only Insane Asylum that would take him.
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