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<center>hey yall. been workin on my story some more. i finally have the final copy ((besides the one that needs the gramical errors to be fixed)). I have changed the plot alot, and fixed to where it is much shorter, and, in my oppinion, much better. yall lemme know which one yall think is best. don be afraid to pm me now ~.^
I sit here, another long, sleepless night, I glance to the clock that sit beside my computer as it struck the midnight hour. Before me is the soft glow of the monitor, adding to the warm, golden glow of the lamp beside me; the only source of light to banish the darkness and shadows that filled the room. The total silence of my darkened home broken only by the soft purr of the computer as it work to carry out the tasks I request of them; and the constant, vigilant pounding as my fingers hit the keys as I work on, and the soft ticking of my clock.
For hours I have toiled, my eyes burning and my body aching as it longed for sleep. Completely focused on my work at the most, but the occasional noise, the scurrying of a rodent, the chirping of a late night bird, the soft mewing of my cats, breaking my concentration. I try not to think anything of it; the days of my past, the horrors of my own imagination, were gone.
For a while, nothing happens, and I am left at peace to continue my work. The clock strikes the half-hour mark, and I pause only to stretch, rubbing my cramped fingers for a moment as I glance over what I had just finished. Glancing up from my work, I notice a soft sound; an almost purr. Long and drawn out, breaking occasionally, then coming back stronger then before. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I try to shake off the growing feeling of dread and fear. Its nothing, I tell myself. Absolutely nothing? probably just something my cat caught, or a movie my parents had left on in the den, just across the hallway from me. Or maybe I am just overworking the computer??
Whispering beneath my breath, I give myself a verbal reprimand, forcing myself to continue on with my work. I wanted to have this finished before I went to bed. Still the moaning continued, and soon it was beyond ignoring. An almost deafening roar filling my senses, I tried to shield my ears from the noise, but louder still it grew. Gritting my teeth, I tried to remain calm, telling myself it was only my imagination; it was all in my head, as the doctor had told me. I would fade, and I would be just fine. For how long I was like this, I don?t know, my body beginning to tense, and cold sweat forming on my back and shoulders, causing a shiver to run up my spine.
I could hear, even though I wished not to, every voice clear and distinct. I could hear those of women, men, and children; begging and pleading for their lives and the lives of others, screaming in terror and pain, hearing them call the names of the lost as they are ripped from each others arms. Before my eyes I could see the instances happening, with the clarity, and the total horror, as though I were there, the pain of their losses and torture I could feel on my body.
Inside my head I could hear myself screaming, but from my mouth came no words, no sound. My breath began to run short, as with each new vision it became more horrific; more sickening. My heart raced in my chest, and I struggled to breathe. I could see them; the bodies, the people who, just moments before, now lay dead at my feet, their throats cut or their chests pierced through by blade or bullet. I thought I would go mad as the screams and voices continued to grow in force and volume. No more, I continued to beg myself, or whatever b*****d force created this hellish nightmare for me. Please, no more.
With each minute that passed, this nightmare became more and more real. I could feel the heat from the fires that burned the houses down; I could smell the stench of rotting flesh, burning in the cinders of the houses as they fell around me, mixed with the acidic, copper-tinged wreak of blood and urine. Kneeling down, I searched for signs of life from the woman that lay before me, in her arms was the still form of her young child, their bodies prone and becoming cold and stiff as death settled in.
This couldn?t be happening? This woman wasn?t dead? I wasn?t in a burning building? I had to get away from here. Backing hurriedly away from the woman and child, I searched desperately for a way to free myself from this place. Where I was, who I was, I couldn?t remember. It didn?t matter right now; the only thing that mattered was my survival.
Glancing about, I saw that the only exit that remains unblocked by flame or the collapsing building was the window. Bracing myself, I shielded my head with my arms and threw myself, as hard as I could, through the glass, gasping in pain as I landed, kneeling, on the grass outside, a shower of broken glass cutting at my flesh and piercing deep. Swaying slightly as I stood, coughing and gasping for air as the flames burned at my flesh, eyes, and lungs, I searching for the best way to go. To my horror, every way I turned there was more carnage. I realized I was in a small village that was being burnt to the ground.
Slowly and painfully standing, I felt my own blood pour from the wounds that covered my arms and shoulders, breathing heavily as the sharp pain throbbed continuously. Who could have done this? What kind of person would destroy an innocent village, men, women, and children all? What could this have possibly given them in reward? I struggled hard against the nausea, breathing hard and gritting my teeth, stumbling through the burning village, until, to my horror, I found the center.
Before my eyes were these barbaric creatures; not worthy to be called men. Adorned with the bones and flesh of those who had fallen to them, they were burning the countless bodies of the villagers in one massive, roaring mound of burning carcass. Falling then to my knees, I could only watch as those who, still barely alive, were being burn to death, their screams of agony and pain filling the air. Sweat began to break out all over my body and I began to shudder and spasm, struggling to remain in control of myself. My breath ran short, and I struggled to keep the world in focus, digging my nails deep into the hard ground beneath me. This cant be real. It all was some hellish nightmare... I will wake up any moment, and things will be as they were...
Without my notice, I had been found, and in my daze I began to realize that these men had begun to gather around me. It was then I forced myself to my senses and stumbled to my feet, dashing through the burning village, as fast as my legs could carry me, fear coursing like ice through my veins, the pain from the broken glass with the burning of the smoke and flame almost unbearable.
At the edge of the village was a dense forest, and without thinking I plunged head long into it. Forcing aside branches and bush, thorns tearing more at my flesh, I knew I left an easy trail for them to follow, but I didn?t care. I had to get away from this hell. How long I ran, I do not know. For hours, it seemed, I stumbled lost through the woods, before finally crashing to a halt in a small clearing. Weakly I tried to stop the thousands of bugs that sworded around my open wounds. I struggled to breathe, fever now burning at my cheeks. Dried blood, mud, and grime clung to my battered and worn body, and I was exhausted from the struggle of fighting to get away from the creatures that had sacrificed an entire village.
Before my eyes my world began to blur, shifting in and out of focus. From the shadows and foliage I watched as these creatures, who I had struggled so hard to excape from, began to approach me. It was then, shivering in the icy air of the cold, winter night, my body numb with pain, blood still pouring from the wounds that were now infected and nasty, glass still within them, that I realized I would die. These men were out for my life, and I could do no more to fight them. The seconds passed in their own tiny eternity, as I watched them draw nearer, the total, complete fear, beyond anything from a story, ride, or game could ever be expressed. Without doubt, your every cell in your body knew this was the end. No more did I think it to be my imagination. This was real. The death of those people were real. And these men, only a few yards away from me, were real.
I closed my eyes then, for a moment, bracing myself, taking one long, staggering breath. Opening my eyes, I realized I looked into the glazed, cold, sightless eyes misted in death, his flesh rotting away as he drew his blade forth. I watched as the ruined remains of his body disintegrated still as he prepared for the final thrust that would end my life, as the cruel hand of fate had his so long ago.
I could only stare up at him and wait, watching the blade was aimed for my heart, and time seemed to slow. I could not move, nor breathe, but only watch. Suddenly, the creatures, the forest, everything vanished, replaced then by the bright headlights of an oncoming vehicle, and the blaring of the horn as the wheels screeched on the smooth surface of the highway.
As I lay there, I stared into the heavens far above, thunder roaring in the background and lightning flashing. I watched as the first few drops of rain began to fall, before an icy downpour was unleashed. I could not move, nor could I feel the pain that had wracked my body just moments before. I knew that I was crying, the tears mixing with the icy rain on my pale, fevered cheeks as my world began to dim.
I softly laughed, blood forming on my lips. Smiling gently, I heard distantly the frantic screams of the passengers of the bus. Whispering softly to the rain as my heart began to slow and my breath began to become labored, "It was only my imagination..."
pic of the day</center>
 Silver_Flame118 · Wed Nov 10, 2004 @ 12:30am · 1 Comments |
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