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 Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 8:29 am
READ THIS FIRST
I got this idea last night while talking to TI. Basically, it's a story that's owned by the TLS board. I'll start with a paragraph or two, and everyone else can feel free to add to it as needed. Ideally, we'll eventually finish it, polish it off, slap on a title, and publish it as a group novel. Realistically, we'll get bored after 3 pages.
RULES
1. This is not an RP thread.
Any character added to the story will become the property of the entire guild, and Mary-Sues will be dealt wish harshly. It's ok to focus on a character's storyline for a post or two, but it's not ok to "play" that character or ignore the other characters. (This is why I didn't post this in the RP forum.)
2. No munching (See the AMP).
Most of the AMP should not be an issue since we're not RPing. Things to avoid include throwing in major twists (such as killing off major characters or sudden magical abilities in a nonmagical world) for the sake of having a twist or using cataclysmic events to force an ending to the story.
Ex: Aliens showing up and blowing up the world for no reason, followed by "THE END" = BAD.
Aliens demolishing the world to make way for a superhighway, which fuels the rest of the story and sparks creativity = GOOD.
3. Follow the Gaia TLS.
4. Use this thread only for contributions.
Side discussions about this story belong in a different thread.
5. You may double post.
One of the biggest disadvantages in a guild this size is the need to wait for other characters to act in an RP between posts. Because of the story format, one person can write large chunks of the story without waiting for others to return.
GUIDELINES
These should be observed often, bent occasionally, and broken rarely.
1. Work through the story, not through the author.
The story world is its own universe, complete with its own cause and effect, motivations, etc. Silly magic shouldn't suddenly appear just because the author wants to see silly magic. A character shouldn't do something outlandish just because the author wanted to see it happen. Basically, the goal here is to avoid things like Mary-Sues, non-sequitur, and constant use of deux ex machina. NEVER INVOKE THE "I SAY SO" RULE!
2. No anachronisms unless they are essential to the plot.
This follows from #1, as anachronisms are almost always a projection of the author into the story. This includes random quotes or references (a character who has never heard of Star Wars constantly says, "It's a trap!"), the insertion of a character or place (a character shows up who clearly resembles Toshiro Mifune, or the characters enter Gotham City), or something outside of the character's time period (a gun in an Medieval setting). However, characters going to Burger King in 20th Century America is appropriate.
3. Maintain consistency.
Assume most main characters will be permanent, and will act in character most of the time. Try to avoid sudden changes in tone between authors, though this will naturally vary a little bit due to writing styles. Major changes in the story such as relationship changes between characters or the overall tone of the story should be fleshed out as the story progresses rather than changed abruptly. Foreshadowing is highly encouraged. Remember, the idea is to make a story that is readable as a whole.
4. No genre jumping.
Sci-fi should not immediately hop to fantasy. Comedy should not hop to horror, and then hop to romance. If you want to change the genre, work within the story to do it. Again, see #1 and #3.
5. No Jayisms (she asked me to put this in here.)
The use of purple prose, overly flowerly metaphor, etc. is discouraged. Also, no internet memes or random LOLcat speak (see #2.)
6. Leave the other authors with something to work with.
This is just a matter of courtesy, as it gives the next author a bit of direction. Also, it helps keep the plot from stagnating.
7. Avoid the meta.
Meta is fun, but gets dull in stories very fast. Learning that the last three chapters have been a dream about a movie about a story within a play within a play within a song within a story whose main character dreams about a story about a movie about a play within a story within a story within a song within a play frustrates and confuses the reader. In the same vein, avoid excessive flashbacks and meta-flashbacks.
8. Keep the story fun.
If you think of any other good rules or guidelines, let me know.
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Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 9:11 am
Chapter 1: The Call of the Wolf
"--on't mind the rain, and a smile can hide all the pain, but you're dow--"
His fingers lightly pressed the snooze button. The alarm hadn't woken him; he had been lying awake for hours. The night had been restless for him. That was ok, though. He was wide awake. He was ready.
The young man hopped out of bed and slowly stretched, listening to his popping joints. That sound always made him smile. He threw on an old gray tee shirt and a faded pair of jeans, and made his way out to the kitchen.
He emptied the last of the cereal box into his bowl, and poured in some sour milk. He felt unusually calm, considering what lay ahead of him. One last peek into his backpack was all the reassurance he needed. The explosives were all there. The fuses were all in place, and were all rigged correctly. Everything appeared to be in order.
He left the empty bowl sitting on the table, grabbed the backpack, and climbed into his truck. As he drove past the plateau, he saw a single wolf howling at the moon from a rocky ledge. For some reason, the sound sent chills up his spine. He shrugged it off, and turned his gaze back towards the horizon. The first rays of sunlight were just starting to appear in the distance.
The young man smiled. It was going to be quite a day.
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Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 5:06 pm
And power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition...|> ---|Chapter 2: An Ordinary Day
As per usual, Kat was running late.
It wasn't her fault, of course. First, the alarm clock didn't go off (the fact that Kat had forgotten to set it the night before had nothing to do with that). Then, her hair had refused to straighten. And to top it all off, she'd run out her front door, bag slung over one shoulder and still fighting to get her hair into some semblance of order, to see the bus she usually caught to work trundling past.
Today, Kat decided, was probably not going to be a good day.
Twenty five minutes, one cab ride and several muttered expletives later, Kat was jogging up the steps of the Department of Taxation building, hoping nobody would notice she was late.
(That was a foolish thing to hope. Most of the time, they never even realised Kat was there.)
Reaching her crowded, messy cubicle, Kat threw her bag under the desk and sank into her office chair, already counting down the time until her morning tea break.
If only something interesting would happen, Kat mused as she reached over a pile of overdue paperwork to pick up the insistently ringing phone.|--- <|Slytherin Pride!
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2007 10:14 pm
Chapter 3: Humble Pilgrimage
Movement. Off to the right. He saw it out of the corner of his right eye. Then again, running across the road in the distance. As the sun inched its way above the horizon the last of the desert night life was scurrying to find shelter. Soon it would be calm again.
He pushed the knob in. No need for a hand-held lighter when the one in the car worked perfectly fine. He rolled down the window and reached for his cigarettes. The button popped.
The radio station faded to static. He was getting close now. The sun was climbing "its steeped-up heavenly hill," as an old professor used to say. What did he teach again?
"History," he mumbled. "No, wait, literature. Brit Lit. God, that class sucked." His voice was coarse, having not yet woken from its slumber.
What did it matter? It was in the past now. "Ancient history!" he announced loud and clear to the vacant desert. One final drag and he flicked the butt out the window. A shiver ran down his spine from the cool morning air as he rolled it up.
How long had it been? Not more than a few years, he reckoned. It seemed like an eternity, a vague feather of a memory lost in the windstorm of his life. Or some BS like that. Oh, well. There wasn't much he could do about it now.
He entered the city, maneuvering through the bustling early morning traffic. Time to recollect his thoughts. He glanced again at the bag. No need to check it again; he knew it was ready. Was he? Yes, he told himself, the bag is ready.
The young man pulled into the parking lot and looked for a spot. He found one just as Kat was stuffing cash into the hand of the cab driver out front. The doors had been open for less than 10 minutes and already the lot was full. Audits and complaints, he thought. You had to love the government.
He made his way to the far side of the building, to a door marked "DO NOT ENTER" near a pair of dumpsters. He looked at his watch: 43 seconds ahead of schedule. He'd always had a knack for timing.
He casually tugged on the handle. It was unlocked, as planned.
A few minutes later he emerged from the doorway. As he made his way to the front of the building, he again glanced at his watch. 8:16. A minute behind schedule. He hated to be late.
He crossed the street and took his position. From here he had a clear, inconspicuous view of the Department of Taxation. 8:19:52. Back on schedule. It was time for action.
He could feel his excitement build as he raised the phone to his ear. Today, he decided, was going to be a great day.
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2007 11:47 pm
Chapter 4: Surprise!
As Kat leant towards the phone she spied a package underneath her desk. It was an ordinary looking parcel wrapped in brown paper and sealed with string, on the top of it was "Surprise!" written in large letters. What was not ordinary was the parcel was ticking. Forgetting the phone she lifts the package onto the desk, her heart pounding.
Kat's hands start sweating as she unwraps the brown paper away from the package. It's not what you think she tries to tell herself as the paper falls away and she opens the box.
Sitting inside is a bomb. It is an intricate design, with wires and leades leading everywhere over what would be an innocent looking, plastic container. All the leads seemed to sprout from a time on the side. Kat focuses on the timer and sees 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..
Before Kat can scream the bomb explodes in a flurry of streamers, glitter and confetti. Inside there is a ring with a message underneath. It reads,
Kat,
Surprise!
Would you marry me?
Marcus
The explosion of colour had caught the entire office's attention. Kat gazed around at everyone looking, slightly embarrassed but grinning like a cheshire cat. The phone starts ringing again.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 8:42 am
Chapter 5: The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd
Kat blinked. Everyone was staring at her in silence. She could still not quite comprehend what was going on around her. The phone continued to ring. Someone in the back of the room cleared his throat. Sarah K. started shifting uneasily. Finally, Marcy blurted out, "Aren't you going to answer that?"
Like a robot, Kat reached out and picked up the phone.
"Well?"
The sound of his voice broke the spell. Kat snapped back to reality, finally comprehending what just happened. A smile broke out on her face, and a single tear rolled down her right eye.
"Oh, Marcus! I... I..."
All eyes were on her. Not a single sound could be heard anywhere in the room. Everyone was waiting with nervous anticipation for her response.
"OF COURSE! Of course I'll marry you!"
A huge sigh of relief came through the phone, but was quickly drowned out by the clapping and shouting of her peers. Marcus was trying to say something on the other end, but she couldn't hear him for all the noise.
She felt like a queen amidst her royal court. Coworkers that she barely spoke to congratulated her, patted her on the back, or gave her a hug. Tears streamed down her face as she reveled in this glory moment, the pinnacle of her life. Dazzling light streamed through the window and splashed across her face, as if God himself had ordained this day for her. Nothing could ruin this perfect moment.
As the volume died down, Kat thought, How on Earth did a building contractor learn to build a bomb? Probably someone he worked with, or the Internet. He could've hopped on a computer at the library...
She suddenly remembered the phone in her hand. She could just ask how he did it... later. Right now a feeling of intense love was welling up inside her, and she felt the urge to say something completely sappy to her boyfriend. Her fiancé.
"Marcus, I--"
"I have to go."
*Click*
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 9:54 am
Chapter 6: The Goose's Foot
C'mon, Kat, pick up!
It figured that his plan would fall apart here. Everything had been timed perfectly. He'd slipped in right before she showed up (factoring in her chronic lateness, of course), gotten in position so he could see her window, and was now making the call exactly one minute before the timer went off.
All she had to do was answer so that he could direct her attention to the package with his best terrorist impression, without enough time for her to call security. Then he'd be one step closer to the day when he could tell her everything. What he was, why he was here, and how he'd risked everything to be with her... but of course, she wouldn't answer. All that planning just to have it go off under her desk. Her voicemail answered. He hung up with a sigh.
The watch alarm started beeping. At that same moment, Marcus saw a faint flash against the glass of the window. It couldn't have done that from underneath the desk; she had to have opened it! Filled with excitement, he picked up the phone once more and dialed.
After an eternity, she answered. Silence. Each second felt like a million years. He couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Well?"" Marcus blurted out.
"Oh, Marcus! I... I..."
His stomach welled up into his throat. Blood coursed through his temples. Marcus was sure his head was about to explode. Every part of his body tingled, waiting for her next words.
"OF COURSE!"
At those words, the air whooshed out of his body. Chaos erupted on the other end of the phone. Marcus wiped his brow, and felt his heart return to its previous rapid pace.
"Oh, Kat, I love you so much!" he yelled into the phone, hoping she could hear him over the crowd. The shouting was loud and constant, making the usually unnoticeable muting stick out like a sore thumb. That split second of dead silence made Marcus' entire body go numb.
As his mind cleared, a thought that had nagged at the back of his mind all morning suddenly came into focus. The wolves aren't out this time of year. His head swam. It couldn't be happening. Then, another thought crept into his head.
Four days ago, when Kat and he were walking in the park. A couple of kids were throwing bread to the geese, and Kat had remarked that one of them had something wrong with its left foot. It was missing a claw on that side. It had seemed strange to him at the time, and now he finally knew why. The rookie. Marcus vaguely remembered meeting him a couple days before his mission started. What was his name... Kevin? Kirk? It didn't matter. What did matter was the story he had told Marcus about how he had lost the pinky toe on his left foot.
Marcus quickly looked around. A man in a business suit was focusing intensely on his cellphone. He appeared to be looking toward the entrance to the DOT's parking lot. An elderly couple slowly ambled down the sidewalk, possibly scoping out the area. A woman walked by pushing a stroller, with a cute little kid looking furtively in all directions. An eagle soared overhead in the sky. He had no way of telling without a transceiver. They could be anywhere. Even in Kat's offi--
The phone! They had to be tracing it, and here he was making it easy for them! He quickly raised the receiver back to his ear, hearing Kat's voice on the other end.
"I have to go." He hung up and dropped the phone to the ground.
How could they have found him? He had been so careful. He'd ripped out the transceiver, and disguised himself as some average Joe nobody had ever heard of. The only thing left was to be happy with her forever... but now that was all over. They were closing in. He didn't have much time.
He morphed into a lizard, and scurried into the nearby underbrush. He hoped to God there was still time to escape.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 8:39 pm
Chapter 7: Silver Bullet
19, 20, 21... The elevator continued to climb. His escorts shifted nervously behind him. Deon grimaced, delighted to know that they feared him more than they did their own boss.
25, 26... The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a "ding." Deon stepped into the dimly lit corridor, flanked by his client's two lapdogs.
He opened the large door marked 2646B and stepped into a large conference room. A large mahogany table dominated the darkened room. At the end of the table sat a tall man in a black suit. Two muscle-bound, suit clad men stood, flanking him. Deon took the seat opposite the man and leaned forward, looking down the long table right into he other's eyes.
"What news of the investigation?" the man asked in a choked voice.
"We have located the target. I have my men moving in on him as we speak. We will have him here within the hour. Now, Giovanni, we will discuss my compensation." Giovanni's outrage at Deon's mention of compensation could hardly mask his pleasure. Dry washing his hands, he croaked, "Yes, finally. The boy, Marcus will finally be mine! Once I have his secret we will discuss your compensation. Good day." Deon paused in a moment of defiance before walking out the door. It was unwise to cross Giovanni. Even for him it may end in death.
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Bogus_Burger Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Nov 13, 2007 5:31 pm
Chapter 8: Into the Clouds
Had they seen him?
Marcus continued to look around nervously at the people in the area. Another business woman. Some college kids. A couple of children playing with squirt guns. One of the children hurled a water balloon at the other. He ducked, and the balloon landed on the sidewalk in front of Marcus, soaking him.
"I think I got him," said the kid.
The first thing that Marcus noticed was that it didn't smell like water. He tried to run, and realized he couldn't. The liquid had completely paralyzed him, and he lay there helpless. The kids had stopped playing and were advancing towards the bushes now. In a few seconds they would have him. I did them a favor by turning into something they could carry, Marcus mused in despair as his last moments of freedom came to an end.
He felt a sudden tightness close over his body. The ground drifted away, and the children were left staring upwards at him. They wouldn't dare morph in public. He turned his head to see that the eagle had him in its talons.
Marcus laughed. "How wonderful. I escape them only to become some bird's lunch."
"Shut up," said the eagle, "you're in enough trouble as it is."
And with that, everything faded to black.
***
Marcus awoke in a dimly lit room some time later. Realizing he was naked, he quickly sat up and looked around for some clothes. He didn't see any. Then, with a slight chuckle, he simply morphed on a pair of jeans and a shirt.
"Sleep well?"
He turned to see an attractive young woman enter the room. His face flushed as he thought about how she'd seen him.
"Putting on a show for me with all that blushing, Marcus?" she asked, emphasizing the false name he'd chosen for himself.
"Umm, yeah," Marcus mumbled in reply.
She continued, "Yes, quite a show. I especially like how you're so dedicated that you wear real clothes instead of making them yourself, and were able to disguise yourself as a human while you were unconscious. You know, instead of turning into this."
Her skin and clothes melted away to reveal the gray, asexual Triglonian form underneath. Marcus began to feel weak. He didn't reply.
"And I also love the convincing way in which you pretended to be in love with that girl. Since, of course, our species doesn't experience sexuality." It was getting energetic, speaking in its native tongue now.
"Ye-yes. It was all part of the facade. I just wanted to get awa--"
"BULLSHIT!" it yelled. "If that were the case you would have realized something was wrong the second you saw that wolf in the desert! Yet, just like those stupid humans, you let your "love" wipe away everything you learned!"
Now it all made sense. The wolf in the desert was a warning, and he'd missed it. Whoever it was, it knew about the trap and wanted him to stay away.
"W-what do you want with me?" he sputtered.
"Did you honestly think you were the only one to leave, Marcus? If it had been any of the rest of us, they wouldn't have wasted time with capture. They wanted you alive, Marcus. Why would they care so much about you?"
Marcus shook his head. "I don't know," he replied.
"Sure you do," it continued. "Something's different about you. You're not like the rest of us, and you know it. That's why you sleep as a human and not as one of us. That's why you instinctively act like a human, and have to think about morphing clothes. That's why you feel embarrassment and love instead of just acting like you do. You're no longer pretending to be human, Marcus. You are human. And someone high up is very interested in finding out why. We got to you first, though. Now you're on our side."
Marcus grew angry. "WELL, WHY DO YOU THINK I SHOULD SUDDENLY HELP YOU?" he roared. "I'M OUT! I WANT TO HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS CRAP ANYMORE! ALL I WANT IS FOR ME AND KAT TO--"
"Kat's dead."
The reply floated up above Marcus' voice, faintly resonating in his ears. He fell silent.
"They killed her. I'm sorry."
Marcus stared at it in disbelief.
After a few seconds of pause, it said, "Don't let her death be in vain. Follow me. We have work to do."
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Posted: Thu Nov 15, 2007 12:38 am
Chapter 9: The Harvest
A box truck parked just outside of St. Elmo's cemetery. Two nameless, faceless men in blue jumpsuits walked through the gates. One carried a two shovels on his shoulder. The other pushed a large wheelbarrow. They walked silently, in time with one another, up the cemetery path. The man with the wheelbarrow stopped and pulled a small notebook from his pocket, reading names and plot numbers aloud.
When they reached the headstone of Cindy Meyers, the wheelbarrow pusher checked off her name with a pencil. His partner handed him a shovel and they both began to dig. Carefully they pulled the casket from its new home. One of the men, maybe the man who had carried the shovels, smiled. This one had yielded an excellent crop. They quickly got to work, removing the head before harvesting her prime parts. They carefully placed the head atop the other parts in the wheelbarrow before returning the rest of the body to its grave.
Of the seven plots they searched, five had yielded suitable crop for harvest. Of those five, three of them were excellent specimens. Horatio would be pleased! The truck pulled away from its spot. The engine throbbed as if with eagerness to deliver its premium cargo. The tired rolled as the night dragged on.
---------------
The abandoned Benson Warehouse stood five miles from the city limit. It was a melancholy, gray building seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Around midnight an unmarked box truck backed into the loading dock. It's driver turned the keys, silencing the engine.
A tall bony man wearing a trench coat and a wide brimmed hat approached the driver and his partner. "How are you gentlemen?"
The two men sneered in unison, offended by the other's friendliness. "I'm told we have a live one today," he continued. "Shall we take a look?"
The bony man turned and walked to the doors of the warehouse. The two jumpsuit-clad men noticed a bulge under the collar of his coat. He must've been wearing an artificial nerve. It was strange that the warehouse manager was a puppet. Maybe he was one of the magistrate's pets. It didn't matter. He outranked them.
Four guards stood at the ready as the two men opened the truck. They walked past their freshly packaged harvest to the back of the truck. They carried the young woman out and threw her at the manager's feet. He dry-washed his hands as he inspected the bound and shaking girl. Her arms were tied securely behind her back and she wore a bag over her head. She seemed bruised and dirty. The manager motioned to two guards. "Go have her cleaned up and inspected. Then, bring her to my office." Then, turning to the delivery men, he said "Gentlemen, you have done well. You may unload the rest of the cargo now." Coughing into his fist, he walked up a flight of stairs, towards his office. Before he could meet his newest specimen he had some very important business to handle.
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Posted: Mon Nov 19, 2007 2:58 pm
And power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition...|> ---|Chapter 10: Be Careful What You Wish For
Kat smiled to herself as she slung her bag over her shoulder and prepared to leave the office. She couldn't believe Marcus had proposed! Whatever she'd thought this day would bring, a proposal of marriage wasn't it.
Then she remembered Marcus' hurried tone and the way he'd hung up on her, and she frowned. I just hope he's okay, she thought to herself as she jogged down the steps, not wanting to miss the bus home.
Still, you did ask for an interesting day, didn't you? she thought with a wry smile.
Lost in thought, she didn't hear the two men approach her at first. The last thing she remembered was a thudding sound and a hoarse chuckle. Then the world went black and she knew no more.
--
When she came to, she was bound and gagged. What the hell? Kat thought, looking around her confusedly. It was dark; her eyes were adjusting to the light, but it was a slow process, and at the moment, Kat couldn't make out any details of her surrounds.
She was jolted upright suddenly, and she realised that they were moving. So I'm in...a truck, or something? she thought. Some sort of vehicle...but how did I get here and where am I going?
All she remembered was that sinister laugh as she crumpled to the ground. Have I been kidnapped or something? What's going on? she wondered, growing increasingly frantic as the full import of what was happening hit her. Don't cry, she ordered herself, blinking the tears back furiously. It'll be okay. Just...just stay calm. It's all right.
But as she sped closer and closer to her unknown destination, Kat knew that wasn't true.|--- <|Look, it's a walking, talking paradox!
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Posted: Mon Nov 19, 2007 3:20 pm
Chapter 11: Disturbed Earth
Ian Meyers wasn't the brightest boy of his meager age of nineteen years. He continually failed his driver's test. Driving too fast, too recklessly, not keeping his hands on the wheel. If there was a reason for him to fail, he had gotten it at one point.
That was why the lanky, dark-haired boy was rollerskating to his sister's gravesite. He managed to visit her every night, partaking in some of life's pleasures as he did so like he and Cindy had enjoyed during her shortened life.
He patted the pocket of his army surplus jacket, reveling in the contraband secreted in there. He rolled pleasantly down the street, bopping to a tune only he could hear.
While on his street escapades, he saw a truck come hurtling towards him. With nothing short of a yelp, Ian leapt to the side to avoid being run over. He fell harshly onto the sidewalk, his wheeled feet coming up and over his head.
"Nice going, douchebags," he mumbled under his breath, trying to get back to a normal position.
Once up, he continued his journey to the graveyard. As he rolled past the grave markers, he couldn't help but notice that something seemed slightly amiss. There were wheel-tracks in the earth that looked almost fresh--he figured. He was a miserable boyscout and never managed to win a single badge unless he was in a group.
Finally, he found Cindy's grave. Even someone like him with his pot-fried mind could tell that something was wrong. The earth was all disturbed. Through his head flashed a montage from every zombie movie he had ever seen. He shuddered. No way would Cindy be a zombie. Still, he back away from the grave and headed out of the grassy area. The trek was hard in his skates and he fell over a few times before finally getting back onto the street.
Rolling home, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was weird at the cemetary. If it were zombies, they'd probably be at the mall somewhere by then. It was probably grave-robbers.
"Are there even grave-robbers anymore?" he asked aloud.
The more he thought of someone harvesting his sister's organs, the more distracted he got, picturing the horrible gory details that refused to leave his mind. He was so distracted that he didn't realize that he was still skating in the street and that most cars stopped at red lights. It was for that reason that he crashed unceremoniously into a stopped truck waiting just a block from the graveyard.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 9:27 pm
Chapter 12: The Death of Ian Myers
"Wha... stupid kid... right into the damn... nine one o... don't think... make..."
Conversation floated overhead, but Ian wasn't interested. It didn't apply to him now. The world was fading fast, and Ian was content to just slip away.
Lights flashed overhead. People faded in and out of his vision. Movement. He was floating into a deep cave. Things flying over him. Something stuck into his arm. His neck had something hard and sturdy placed around it. The world was slipping quickly into darkness.
"I don't see... kids... if only... no helmet... smacked his hea... instead he mi..."
Helmets. Heh. Helmets were for nerds. Great. He can't even sleep without being surrounded by nerds. GET AWAY FROM ME! he tried to shout, but no sound came out.
Floating once again. Narrow corridors. People everywhere. White coats. Bright room. Silver knife overhead. Pain. Reality returning.
"All done," he heard the woman in the white coat announce. The half dozen people in the room began to file out. One of them handed a clipboard to her.
"You'll be feeling much better in a minute, Mr..."
She stared at the clipboard for a few seconds. A smile began to creep across her lips. Her blue eyes flashed green.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Myers, but it appears that you did not survive the crash. Say hello to your sister for me."
She slid a needle into his IV and pressed the plunger. Reality left.
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Posted: Sun Dec 23, 2007 12:46 am
Chapter 13: Lucky Numbers
Switching into the left land without signaling, Deon fumed as his thought of what to say to his men. How could they let him get away? He was just a boy! He jammed on the breaks as a truck cut him off, pulling him out of his reverie. They seemed to be in quite a hurry. "Learn how to drive, Jackass!" he yelled furiously as he pounded the horn. Something small hit his windshield. He didn't have time to worry about that though. He got left just as his exit was coming up.
Parking outside a small house in the suburbs, Deon stormed to the door and rang the bell furiously. He pushed the man who was holding the door and forced his way into the house. "What happened?" he demanded.
"Well boss, you see, it was like this. We was after 'im and we was just about to grab the little runt when he disappead, see? Just like that he was gon. He vanished inta tin aea."
"Enough!" Deon barked. "Save your excuses for Giovanni. I'm done making excuses for you. I'll handle this job personally." Without another word, he stormed back outside to his car. As he opened the door, he noticed something strange on the hood. Looking closer, Deon discovered a human finger and a small bag of marijuana sitting on the hood of his car. He pocketed the weed and pulled a fairly nice looking ring off the finger. Trying his hand, the ring was a perfect fit. Tossing the finger on his inept henchman's driveway, Deon got in his car and drove away.
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Bogus_Burger Vice Captain
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