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 Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 11:27 pm
Shiloh steps into his biology class. Instead of joining his classmates and learning about--well, nothing, the school year's basically over--he steps into the otherworld, the sunny day outside replaced by a view of Coke bottle green clouds and rain pattering against the windows.
The door shuts behind him, and there is a woman in the room. She is shadowed by a corpse-skinned figure with deepset eyes, and it hides behind her as she observes Shiloh.
"Are you sure this is the one," she says. "He looks... weedy."
"Yes, mistress," grovels the corpse-man. "He will be a good counterpart for the other."
The woman sighs. "He might, at that. You, boy. Smile."
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 11:36 pm
The good thing about bio was how it was the last class of the damn day. He could zone out and not get bothered by it, because half of the class was zoning out anyway. Not to mention that him and Chris were cool now. He had his cellphone in his hand, ready to hammer out a text to Jamie, 'Wnna chill aftr class???'
The message doesn't send, and his phone suddenly loses all of his reception. It isn't until the door closes that he looks up, chills crawling up his spine.
When he sees the rain falling outside, he knows immediately, and it nearly makes his heart catch in his throat.
"Who the ******** are you." it isn't poised as a question, despite being one. The women doesn't scare him as much as the figure behind her, but if this is really Otherworld, then he wasn't going to take his chances. He's ready to bolt, or fight, or both.
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 11:43 pm
"You dare speak to--" begins the corpse-man. The woman holds up a hand to silence it. She circles Shiloh, the gray-violet fabric of her dress whispering along the high-school quality tiles. Her presence there, the impossible geometric anomaly of her face, is as strange as the nude corpse's. "I suppose he has a certain appeal. A naive charm… I do like the curls." She reaches out to touch Shiloh's hair with the backs of her fingers.
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 11:53 pm
The chills on his skin, the goosebumps, they feel like tiny little pins pinching into his skin. It doesn't hurt, but it's uncomfortable and absolutely sickening. He's a deer in headlights as the women slowly approaches him, every instinct telling him to turn around and run out the door, or at least leap forward with his fist. He does neither.
Not until her hand extends out to him.
"Don't ******** touch me!" he hisses, his own hand snapping out to slap hers away.
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Posted: Sat Jun 04, 2016 12:12 am
Her expression goes blank. "Little sheep, you will be punished for that," she says. Her hand goes to his face, bony fingers spread wide. "Beel. As we discussed."
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Posted: Sat Jun 04, 2016 12:20 am
"Punished?! You can't—listen to me I'll ******** fig—"
He never got to finish his thought, because there was a hand wrapping around his face and even though his fingers are clawing with growing desperation, nothing seems to happen. His lungs feel tight in his chest and he can't breathe, god he can't breathe. He feels like he's drowning. Is he dying? Chris? Thorne? Oliver? Jamie? His phone clattered onto the ground with a sound that sounded so muffled in his ears, so dim as his vision blurred. His body felt warm and his chest felt like flames and—
Everything was fading to black, fuzzing out around the edges. He tried to scream. He tried so damn hard to scream.
It never made it out of his throat.
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