|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Feb 21, 2007 1:44 pm
Name of Nightmare: Unknown Fear: Voodoo Home: Wander NM's Personality: He tends to act very sophisticated and condescending. He considers Nightmares above humans, constantly exerting his own superiority over his charge. His vocabulary is quite developed, as is his intellect. He can, however, be possessed by rapid bursts of brutal ferocity, where his typically cool nature is overcome by a barbarous savagery. This never spells good news for Jake. Name of Human: Jacob Machesney (Jake) Human's History: Jacob, or "Jake", as he likes to be known, belongs to a Catholic family, and has currently moved with his single mother into a new area for her job. He is quite insecure over the move, going from a Catholic to public education and all, and something his grandmother told him might come back to complicate his already very complicated life.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 2:30 pm
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle,
be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. ______ -Why do you fear the unknown?
Fear me.
You know how bad I can be.
I'm worse than any nightmare you could ever have.
Because I'm all of them combined.- May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou,
oh prince of the heavenly host,
by the Power of God thrust into Hell Satan and all evil spirits who prowl the world seeking the ruin of souls.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 4:13 pm
O My God,
I adore Thee and I love Thee with all my heart.
I thank Thee for having created me,
for having made me a Catholic and for having watched over me this day. Jake Basic Sketchings: Brown hair. Blue eyes. Average height.
Phobia: Voodoo.
Reason for Phobia: When he was a child, his grandmother used to tell him stories, especially at bedtime, about demons, spirits, and, her most favorite subject, voodoo. As his parents firmly avocated that the stories were false, his grandmother insisted they were true. A young child's imagination can be a vivid, intelligient thing, and he was often plagued by dreams and lucid visions that kept him up late at night. Under his parent's scorn, he tried to supress his fears, but they have never gone away. Instead, they have lurked in deep in his heart, an irrational fear of supernatural powers and magic, not dead, but dormant. Now, being told that his new house is, indeed, haunted, a being has come into creation, existing both to torment and plague him...
Age: fifteen.
Current occupation: a sophomore at his local high school.
Religion: Catholic.
Fast facts: Recently moved for the first time. Likes insect watching. Dislikes scary movies.-to be added to later- Pardon me for the evil I have done this day;
and if I have done any good, deign to accept it.
Watch over me while I take my rest and deliver me from danger.
May Thy grace be always with me.
Amen.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 8:15 pm
Have you ever had a wish before?
Have you ever had it kissed before?
Teetered on a thread before?
Fell and broke your skull before? Jake's Life. Jake let out a long exhale, slinging his book bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. Of all the people who had collided with him today, only one had even thought to help him. Everyone absorbed in their own little world, that's what it was. Then again, he had been guilty of that too. The change between a private to public school was astounding. He had never imagined there'd be so many other teens stuffed into one building. He sat down in a chair by his desk and flipped on a small lamp in the corner of his desk. The homework he had been given was outrageous. Sure, he'd missed part of the year, but this was seriously going to take him three hours to finish. How irritating. A Tibetan mastiff nudged at her owner's leg with her wet nose. Her tail dipped low between her legs as a low whine escaped her muzzle. Jake glanced down at the dog. "Something wrong, Markie?" She nudged his leg uncomfortably, brushing her head against his leg. Her soft fur swept across the rough material of his jeans. The heavy drapes over his window swept shut, the dim lamp was suddenly the only light source in the room. A sound rustled by Jake's bed. A swish found the cords on the drapes firmly knotted. Jake stood up, the chair nearly crashing to the ground before he caught its back with one hand and set it firmly on its feet again. "Markie?" The dog whined by his leg, keeping close to it as he started to walk across the room toward the drapes. His hands fumbled with the cords, trying to get them undone, as a something knocked into his lamp. It careened to the ground, propelled by the strange weight. Its cord jerked. The lamp went out. Jake's hands worked frantically at the cords. The quiet clatter of something rolling on wood echoed through the room. Another tug loosened the cords. He thrust the drapes open, turning around. Markie whined again, pressing closer against his legs. Thin, almost white bones lay cast across his desk. They were probably from some sort of small animal. Jake grimaced, trying to avoid looking at them. Trying not to puke at the small remnants of unknown ligaments clutching to it like vines did to a tree. Right before they killed it. You moved into that house? Man, what a riot. Didn't you hear? The last family moved out because someone was murdered in it. A long time ago. They say it's haunted . Hope they're wrong, eh?He swept them over the edge of the desk, into a small waste bin. He scooped up the miniature garbage bag and headed toward the door. On his way out of his room, he flipped the main light switch on. Markie followed him. It was the start of everything. Have you ever had a dream before?
Has it ever made you scream before?
Torn out your heart before?
Ripped apart your flesh before?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 7:39 am
Have you ever changed time before?
Have you ever made it climb before?
Changed it to your will before?
Felt the urge to kill before? Jake's Life. Startled, Jake Mom gave me a new journal for moving. Yeah, joy. Like that's going to cheer me up. Whatever. In other news, I had a nightmare last night. Markie found me writhing on the floor. I couldn't get back to sleep after it. No idea what it was about. Probably because of the bones. I hid them in the trash. The people should come to take it away today. I said prayers extra hard this morning. The nightmare shouldn't come back. On the down side, I was too freaked out last night to get all my homework done right. The teachers completely chewed me out. Next step: find some friends here. Pshft, like that's going to happen easily. All the guys I've met so far are jerks. Maybe that's because I think they are, so they are. I dunno. I found this book called The English Wars mixed in with my stuff this morning. I think the girl dropped it. I couldn't find it to give it to her. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. After my homework. I don't do well with cute girls. There was this neat mantis on my windowsill when I got home today. Is it an omen? Maybe I'm not supposed to be so down about this whole moving crap. Mom's going to freak if she finds out I did badly on my homework. I wonder if public school have the same kind of notification system as my old school did. If so, I highly doubt anyone in my mathematics class will be seeing the light of day again. May God bless me and protect me, Jake. PS- Get a new sock. This time, hide it from Markie. Annoyed, Jake This kid down my street thought it would be a riot to take Markie's food bowl. Note to self: keep her bowl inside form now on. I got it back, but only after chasing the little twit until I could barely breathe. Sometimes I hate kids. Couldn't find the girl today, either. I wonder if it's even hers. I haven't opened it yet, to respect her (?) privacy. If I get bored enough, I probably will. Mom's trying to muscle me into helping her unpack. I told her not to bring so much stuff. Maybe I can escape if I hurry fast enough. And no, the homework load hasn't gotten any easier. No kids have pulled any more pranks like they did in my room two days ago. Thank everything holy, too. I had the creepiest dream last night, but I couldn't remember what it was about. I sure hope this won't happen every night I stay here. Because if Mom has her way, I'm not leaving for a long, long time. Here's to no more bad dreams, Jake. Interested, Jake I opened the book today. I couldn't find the girl, and I got bored. No one ever told me not to do it, right? Anyway, it has flowery brown bookmark tightly nestled between its pages. The name "Amy P." is written on it. I wonder if that's her name. Probably. It figures. Girls tend to like flowery things, I think. This one either really likes books or has been reading it for a while, because she's more done with it than not. In other news, I had another nightmare I can't remember. This is starting to suck. At this rate, I won't be able to stay awake in my classes. That would suck even more. May I finish my homework (and do it right this time!), Jake. Have you ever changed your name before?
Have you ever felt the same before?
Made your self a cat before?
Wished you were dead before?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 3:34 pm
Have you ever felt unloved before?
Have you ever gotten shoved before?
Battered by your dad before?
Made your mother mad before? Jake's Life. Jake trudged out of his homeroom class, feet dragging slightly on the floor. He felt like falling over into the surging mass of students and being carried away on a shifting cloud of blessed sleep. Unfortunately, that was not possible, nor was it reality. As he headed down the hallway, he caught sight of a familiar seeming girl with the fronts of her long brown hair braided back across her head. She was about to walk past him. The girl from before. Jake cut his arm through the crowd of people between them, seizing her forearm tightly. Their reversed momentum sent them careening through the crowd, tossed and battered by the other students. Eventually, they tumbled against a set of nearby lockers. The girl's eyes were wide, staring at him in surprise. "Um, is something the matter?" she asked. Jake's lungs struggled for a decent breath. He was certain someone's elbow was going to give him a big, fat, juicy bruise on the side of his chest later. "You're Amy, right?" he managed to pant. "Um, yes, do I know you?" The girl's head coked to the side slightly, her eyebrows furrowing closer together. Twice. That was the second time she'd started a sentence with an 'um'. "You knocked into me a few days ago," he answered. Extremely conscious of just how little time he had to get to his first period, Jake shrugged his book bag off his shoulders. It hit the ground with a thump. He unzipped it, rooting his hands through it in search of the book. Strangely enough, all he could feel were his school notebooks and textbooks. "Did I?" Amy came closer, angling her body over his bent one, her head moving close to his shoulder as she tried to peer into his backpack. "I found-" Jake started, suddenly cutting himself off as he glanced over at her. His hands stopped moving. Blood started to rush in a heated torrent toward his face. "I, uh..." What was her problem? Didn't anyone here have any sense of space? He felt as though he was being crowded into a corner. He could practically feel her breath beating down on his face. He pulled a hand from his book bag and made an awkward motion with it to wave her back. "Can I have my space back?" Amy clutched her books even tighter across her chest then they already were. Funny, Jake hadn't thought that was possible. She stepped backward. "Oh. Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to crowd you or anything." Obviously. "It's okay," Jake said, not speaking his thoughts. "I just, uh, like my space." Darn it. That look she was giving him... He had completely just made himself look like a space-obsessed, claustrophobic freak. How utterly stupid and pathetic. It was a good thing his mother didn't usually make him tell her how his day was. That'd go over well. 'All right. Though I did make a girl think I was crazy. No big deal, even though she'll tell her friends, who will tell their friends, who will tell their friends...' His face heated up even more at the thought. He quickly turned back to his book bag and continued rooting through it. After a few moments, a hand felt the book. Success. Jake yanked it out of his bag and held it toward her as he straightened. "This is yours, right?" he asked, trying to seem cool and collected. Completely unfreakish. Amy smiled broadly, as though happy. He could have sworn it looked forced. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, a little too relieved and happy to come off as truly authentic. She accepted the book and added it to her mountain of other books. "How did you know it was mine?" Jake waved his hand vaguely at the books. "You had a bookmark." No, really? No, actually, he had stalked her every day of her life. That was how he knew. Jake knew he was being unfair, but at the moment, he really didn't care. He just wanted to curl up in his bed with Markie snuggling against his side, huddled with the covers pulled up to his chin. Sleeping. But he wasn't. He was here, at school. "I'm Jake," he answered. He leaned over as he spoke and reshouldered his backpack before standing up again. He held out a hand toward her. "I'm new here." Amy smiled, cocking her head to the side again. Did she have a crick in her neck? "Hi, I'm Amy, as you know. I'm a junior. Welcome to _____." Wasn't she ever going to take his hand? Did a freak accident strike her blind to all offerings of a polite handshake? "I'm, uh, a sophomore." How awkward. His hand was getting heavy. "Cool," she responded, still smiling. That had to be fake. "I guess I'll see you around then, Jake?" Her hand reached forward and closed around his. She pressed it back toward him in what seemed like an attempt to be subtle, which failed miserably. Oh. Now he got it. They didn't do handshakes around here. He had been embarrassed. Now he was humiliated. Jake quickly snapped his hand back. "Uh, yeah, sure. See you around." "Okay, sure. Thanks for giving me my book back." "No problem." Jake's eyes scanned the crowd with a sudden urge of near desperation. "I'm going to be late to class. Bye." He quickly rejoined the surging mass of other students, allowing himself to be caught up once again in its hectic flow. "Bye!" he could hear the girl calling after him. He didn't look back. "It was nice meeting you!" Yeah, sure it was. Of course. Now she had a story to tell about the freakish new kid. Just fantastic. He really needed some sleep. Have you ever been a fool before?
Has it ever felt so cruel before?
Picked you apart before?
Made you gut your heart before?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2007 1:44 pm
Have you ever danced at night before?
Have you ever kissed the light before?
Hoodwinked by the moon before?
Felt true love and ran before? Jake's Life Nightmare. Fire. Everything was on fire. Burning sulfurous flames licking across the carpet. Intense heat wisping across his face.
"Jake." The voice was seductive and insistent, tugging at the edges of his consciousness.
His eyes jerked open. Flames flickered inches in front of his face. It dangled without any supporting hand or limb to keep it upright. A hovering ball of dancing flames.
"Good to see you're awake."
Scrambling backward, Jake's hand shot up to clutch a silver cross hanging around his neck. He mumbled hastily under his breath as his eyes sealed shut. When he opened them, the flames still weaved in front of him. They moved closer to his face and forced Jake to lean back.
"You think your cross can make me disappear?" The voice that came from the flames was both soft and harsh at once, possessing distinct male quality. "How quaint. Faith is very important, you know. The belief that there are things out there you could never understand... I believe you know what I'm talking about."
"T-they were right," Jake gasped. The cross began to carve indentions on the inside of his hand from how tightly he clutched it. "This place is haunted."
"A ghost?" the voice repeated. "Hardly. You rather insult me by that."
"A talking fireplace?"
"Absurd. This is merely the medium I am using to speak with you at the moment. To, grab your attention, as a figure of speech. Establish my presence." A slight chuckle came from the flames.
"Then you're a ghost," Jake said. "You have to be." He swallowed. It felt as though all the moisture in the air had been sucked clean out of it. "Ghosts can't hurt me."
The flames twittered, as if amused. "Really, can a ghost do this?" The flamwes twirled to draw his attention to another location. Across the room, Jake's school papers lifted, shuffling themselves like a deck of cards as if by some giant invisible hand. They settled neatly back on the desk in a different order than when they had first risen off its surface. "What more must I do to convince you?" asked the flames rhetorically, sounding quite smug of themselves.
Jake's hand twitched, his eyes moving from the papers on his desk to slowly land on the flames. His hand twitched again. Then, suddenly, he seized the notebook on his dresser counter and flung it at the flames. The flames had nary a chance to dodge, and the book was reduced to shreds and cinders by his bedside. By the time this had happened, Jake was out of bed and racing across the room. The sudden adrenaline shock kept him from noticing the sharp pain as his foot hit the wooden floor at the wrong angle. Such thoughts were irrelevant.
Markie scratched at outside of her Jake's bedroom door, a low whine coming through it. The harsh wood bit at her claws. She gently bumped her shoulder against the door.
Inside, the latch on Jake's door switched to locked.
"What, are you afraid of something?"
The flames dissipated, leaving Jake to stumble in complete darkness.
Jake's breath fled from him, the pressure on his lungs mounting as a serpentine form wormed around him. Its serpentine almost substantial weaving curved near his flesh, leaving a barely tingling sensation where its path brushed almost imperceptibly against his skin. All power to control his movement petrified by the terror of being touched by something that wasn't there. His mouth moved in a trembling motion, starting to form words that his throat could only summon the faintest of halting whispers to speak.
"O m-my God, I ad-dore Thee and I love Thee-"
The feather-light sensation curved along the tender flesh of his neck, and all control of speech slipped from his grasp as he floundered to even recall the next words, much less form them coherently. It continued up his neck and over his jaws. A bit of fire winked into existence in front of his face. Heat washed over his features as the glaring brightness almost caused him to slip backward, had some force not kept him firmly in place.
"Too frightened to pray, Jake?" the harsh voice whispered.
Something like nonexistent string tugged on his shoulders, a foreign grip clamping on his waist like the large, unseen hand of a giant. And to that giant, he was but the smallest gnat with its wings ripped off. His heels lost sensation, then followed by the arches of his feet. His pale blue eyes remained transfixed inside the dancing flames as the very tips of his toes left the ground, his entire body being dragged into the air, a helpless doll being lifted by its master. The flames suddenly shifted to almost black, unperceivable except for the flashes of husky brown and light gray that originated from its source. Two fingers twitched almost unnoticeably in a familiar pattern. Up, down, left, right, words barely being mouthed by trembling lips.
Jake's near invisible word spun. The sudden impact of his head with the floor quickly ended the motion. His dog's whines and scratchings at the door increased at the resulting thump. His breathing came harsh, a weight being levered on his lungs. There was not enough strength that had not been drained out of him to even lift his shaking head off the cold floor.
"How disgusting," the voice said from the darkened flames. "The human is a wreck within minutes. I would have thought my charge might have been a bit more... advanced. This should be simple. Yet, I am vaguely insulted."
The flames dissipated sharply, leaving the room much as it had been before. Save for the ashes next to Jake's bed, not much had been left to say anything had happened at all. But it was true enough for the young teen's imagination. More than true enough. Have you ever tasted life before?
Has it ever felt so good before?
Flown you in the sky before?
Made you gasp and beg for more?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
