Introduction
"In my restless dreams, I see that town . . . "
There was an asylum. It was bombed. A train took the living employees and patients toward a new facility in a town much farther away. It didn't make sense to use a train. The patients could have easily escaped into a different cart - jumped out while the train was still going or after it stopped. They could have harmed themselves or others. The restraints were minimal. Yet here they were. All these concerns were obscured by the true nature of the train and its conductor. This train had been sent by Silent Hill. These were new, troubled people in need of Silent Hill's . . . "care". This town of redemption, loss, regret - guilt . . . these emotions brought them there. These emotions would keep them there. Silent Hill would open them like caskets before the burial. Their memories would be cast onto the streets in the form of monsters. These "monsters" were shriveled contortions of the passengers distorted souls . . . they would roam the fog. They would seek these people out in the hopes of finding comfort in their oblivion. The passengers skins would be dashed into the complexity of riddles. Doors would be locked. Paths would be blocked. Their soles would walk across the concrete flesh of Silent Hill. They would see the true images of their psyches and the obscurities they put in place to protect themselves from these truths. Who they really were - guilty, evil, broken . . . these things were hidden away, now to be found in Silent Hill. Soon, they would become patients of the foggy villa. Silent Hill would provide them the kindest counsel. After all, damaged psyches were the only minds of interest to it. Soon, the train would stop. Soon, the fog would come. This was where they would begin their trek through Silent Hill. Into this fog, they would all find an end.
- 16 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 3 authors
Setting
0.00 INK
The trek started on a train. An old train that shouldn't have been used to carry passengers, much less patients from a mental asylum. But she was mine. My "Donna", as I called her. She shook like bones shook through restless dreams. Up ahead I could see that the track was down. It was strange. I called over the make-shift intercom, then,
"The track is down, guys ...and gals. But don't worry there's an old track that takes us the same way. It's a bit longer but it will have to do."
We changed lines. As we passed the other track, I thought I saw something . . . someone. It was hard to be sure - there was fog now. I looked down as the intercom began emitting static. Then the train's lights went out. Fog greeted the windows with condensation. I heard brakes, then, but I hadn't switched them. We were stopping. We were stopping where we shouldn't be.
"Is there an issue?" a doctor called to me. I got up and came into the cab.
"What are you doing? You're supposed to be conducting this train." a nurse said, frightened.
"I was, but it looks like the train doesn't want to be conducted anymore," I said, sitting down, "It is stopping on its own. I can't get anything to work for me. I figured I might as well sit in a comfy chair while I waited."
"A comfy chair!" the doctor said. "This is ridiculous. What sort of Conductor are you?"
"Not sure some days," I said, "maybe of music ... Life? Death? The truth is, eventually things need to conduct themselves."
"Did anyone else ask him for a whiny, introspective speech? I know I didn't." the doctor says.
"No, I didn't -" the nurse began, before me and the doctor interrupted simultaneously with,
"it was rhetorical."
"Oh."
The train was almost at a halt. The outside world was a mystery thanks to the great grey swath. I returned to the control room and picked up my portable communications radio. I couldn't recall the procedure at that moment for situations like these. I decided to just throw something out.
"Rudolf the red nose reindeer, do you copy?"
I could tell it wasn't working. I could also tell that I was an idiot. The train was now at rest. The doors opened of their own volition. I looked at my passengers, then stepped onto the platform. I slipped. I landed prone and when I stood I saw that the platform was covered in soot. Now I looked like I took a bath in it. Before me was the station. Or at least, I thought. It looked like a house with a shabby banner draped across it. The banner said "Old Roads Station". I went inside through the front door. Darkness. I moved my hand along the wall for a switch. Click. It didn't work. Click. Click. Still, there was nothing. I ran back to the train and grabbed my flash-light from my toolbox. I stopped when I saw my foldaway shovel. Maybe I could remove the soot from the platform later? I picked it up and then, remembering myself, I turned to my daughter.
"Come with me - I don't trust you around those crazy people," I said, then add jokingly, "they might make you crazy, too."
I went back to the station, ignoring everyone. I presumed my daughter was behind me, but I was not paying attention. Inside I turned on the flashlight. The station had furniture in it - I saw stairs on the other end of a hallway. I saw a clock at the center - wait. I saw a clock at the center and ... No. Those were not hands. Those were not real hands in place of the metal indicators. I turned away, disgusted. There were brochures on a desk. I picked one up.
"Welcome to Silent Hill," I read aloud. "Huh. Explains the silence."
I now saw a much larger map behind glass on a wall. I went to it. There were scribbles on the map. Last-minute additions by hand. The penmanship looked ... "familiar"? I had never been to Silent Hill before, so "familiar" didn't seem the word for it. I marked everything down on my brochure version of the map and I returned to the train.
Silent Hill, I thought. What a morbid name. I had traveled many places in my life but I knew nothing about this town. Well . . . I was familiar with the ghost stories. "A hungry town looking for broken people", I had heard a co-worker say. And sure, I believed in ghosts, but even that seemed too ridiculous to me. Still, here I was . . . Silent Hill. Fog upon fog. I looked at my passengers. They were not my best fare. Mental patients and their mental caretakers. I think I hated them all. But it was hard to tell sometimes; it was hard to tell whether I hated other people or if I just hated myself. Some snot-nose scholar would tell me that I hated myself. They would say that my hatred of others was a projection to hide self-loathing. They were probably right. I didn't care; I hated snot-nose scholars. Suddenly, I didn't feel like talking. I had said enough. My mouth, though, hung open as if I was about to speak. It was a bad habit of mine. My concerns were on my train . . . Donna was mad at me for some reason. I didn't know why. And while I didn't feel comfortable leaving her, I knew I would have to soon. I would have to venture into Silent Hill. Something primal within me shook then as if afraid. But why would I be? It was just a town. Yet, that clock in the station . . . no, I had imagined it. And at least there was fog about the place. I was a big fan of places with fog. I suppose this was fate, then . . . or some bull-shit like that. I didn't really care either way. I just hoped my passengers wouldn't talk to me. Here I was. On a train in the fog of nowhere.
"The track is down, guys ...and gals. But don't worry there's an old track that takes us the same way. It's a bit longer but it will have to do."
We changed lines. As we passed the other track, I thought I saw something . . . someone. It was hard to be sure - there was fog now. I looked down as the intercom began emitting static. Then the train's lights went out. Fog greeted the windows with condensation. I heard brakes, then, but I hadn't switched them. We were stopping. We were stopping where we shouldn't be.
"Is there an issue?" a doctor called to me. I got up and came into the cab.
"What are you doing? You're supposed to be conducting this train." a nurse said, frightened.
"I was, but it looks like the train doesn't want to be conducted anymore," I said, sitting down, "It is stopping on its own. I can't get anything to work for me. I figured I might as well sit in a comfy chair while I waited."
"A comfy chair!" the doctor said. "This is ridiculous. What sort of Conductor are you?"
"Not sure some days," I said, "maybe of music ... Life? Death? The truth is, eventually things need to conduct themselves."
"Did anyone else ask him for a whiny, introspective speech? I know I didn't." the doctor says.
"No, I didn't -" the nurse began, before me and the doctor interrupted simultaneously with,
"it was rhetorical."
"Oh."
The train was almost at a halt. The outside world was a mystery thanks to the great grey swath. I returned to the control room and picked up my portable communications radio. I couldn't recall the procedure at that moment for situations like these. I decided to just throw something out.
"Rudolf the red nose reindeer, do you copy?"
I could tell it wasn't working. I could also tell that I was an idiot. The train was now at rest. The doors opened of their own volition. I looked at my passengers, then stepped onto the platform. I slipped. I landed prone and when I stood I saw that the platform was covered in soot. Now I looked like I took a bath in it. Before me was the station. Or at least, I thought. It looked like a house with a shabby banner draped across it. The banner said "Old Roads Station". I went inside through the front door. Darkness. I moved my hand along the wall for a switch. Click. It didn't work. Click. Click. Still, there was nothing. I ran back to the train and grabbed my flash-light from my toolbox. I stopped when I saw my foldaway shovel. Maybe I could remove the soot from the platform later? I picked it up and then, remembering myself, I turned to my daughter.
"Come with me - I don't trust you around those crazy people," I said, then add jokingly, "they might make you crazy, too."
I went back to the station, ignoring everyone. I presumed my daughter was behind me, but I was not paying attention. Inside I turned on the flashlight. The station had furniture in it - I saw stairs on the other end of a hallway. I saw a clock at the center - wait. I saw a clock at the center and ... No. Those were not hands. Those were not real hands in place of the metal indicators. I turned away, disgusted. There were brochures on a desk. I picked one up.
"Welcome to Silent Hill," I read aloud. "Huh. Explains the silence."
I now saw a much larger map behind glass on a wall. I went to it. There were scribbles on the map. Last-minute additions by hand. The penmanship looked ... "familiar"? I had never been to Silent Hill before, so "familiar" didn't seem the word for it. I marked everything down on my brochure version of the map and I returned to the train.
Silent Hill, I thought. What a morbid name. I had traveled many places in my life but I knew nothing about this town. Well . . . I was familiar with the ghost stories. "A hungry town looking for broken people", I had heard a co-worker say. And sure, I believed in ghosts, but even that seemed too ridiculous to me. Still, here I was . . . Silent Hill. Fog upon fog. I looked at my passengers. They were not my best fare. Mental patients and their mental caretakers. I think I hated them all. But it was hard to tell sometimes; it was hard to tell whether I hated other people or if I just hated myself. Some snot-nose scholar would tell me that I hated myself. They would say that my hatred of others was a projection to hide self-loathing. They were probably right. I didn't care; I hated snot-nose scholars. Suddenly, I didn't feel like talking. I had said enough. My mouth, though, hung open as if I was about to speak. It was a bad habit of mine. My concerns were on my train . . . Donna was mad at me for some reason. I didn't know why. And while I didn't feel comfortable leaving her, I knew I would have to soon. I would have to venture into Silent Hill. Something primal within me shook then as if afraid. But why would I be? It was just a town. Yet, that clock in the station . . . no, I had imagined it. And at least there was fog about the place. I was a big fan of places with fog. I suppose this was fate, then . . . or some bull-shit like that. I didn't really care either way. I just hoped my passengers wouldn't talk to me. Here I was. On a train in the fog of nowhere.
Setting
0.00 INK
To be honest, I was expecting something like this to happen. After the destruction of the previous asylum, the danger that everyone had faced for that brief moment, wouldn't it make sense for something else to screw up, ruin what had not yet been touched? Makes sense for me. That's why I wasn't surprised when the train slowed down in some foggy plain of nothing. I had a seat up front with the other employees, which wasn't the biggest privilege. I'm starting to think that the craziness of everything is rubbing off on the other people. Just sitting beside one of the nurses, I could feel the tension in the air, her whole body was shaking, and she had been twiddling her thumbs, staring ahead and biting her lip. How ironic would it be though if an employee here was admitted to the place...
I stopped thinking about that right away, as soon as the train conductor had gotten away from his section and wandered to our part. I didn't even take part of the conversation. Just rested my elbows on my knees, and clasped my hands together, staring ahead at the wall in front of me. I could hear them talk, and felt myself smile at the slight argument between the doctor and the conductor. I could feel curiosity already forming in me as the conductor left the train, leaving everyone to basically do whatever they wanted.
I turned my head, looking over my shoulder, watching the man's tall figure disappear into the fog. Nothing else was visible. From here, I couldn't even tell where buildings were, if there were any buildings. I couldn't see the line where land separated from sky. Everything was the same color, everything was coated in fog. What kind of a place was this? I looked forward again, raising a hand to grab the corner of the black scarf around my neck, playing with a shred of the cloth in my fingertips. My legs were crossed, my toe tapping lightly against the floor, awaiting for something to happen. We couldn't sit here forever, in a train filled with people that are supposed to be locked up in rooms, kept away from everyone else.
I looked up at the sound of footsteps in the train once more, only to see the conductor coming back onto the train. He stood there, stunned almost, for a moment. I raised an eyebrow, still playing with the fabric of the scarf. He was the conductor, he was supposed to do something.
"Well?" I spoke up, staring up at him. It felt odd, almost, to speak. I hadn't heard my own voice in a long time, I hadn't spoken a word through the whole trip. "What now? Did you figure something out?"
If the guy hadn't found anything to do with the train, I knew that I wouldn't be afraid to wander around the town to find someone to help, or maybe whatever the guy needed to get the train working. Or just a way out. But from the looks of the place, it seemed pretty deserted. Cross out that first option.
I stopped thinking about that right away, as soon as the train conductor had gotten away from his section and wandered to our part. I didn't even take part of the conversation. Just rested my elbows on my knees, and clasped my hands together, staring ahead at the wall in front of me. I could hear them talk, and felt myself smile at the slight argument between the doctor and the conductor. I could feel curiosity already forming in me as the conductor left the train, leaving everyone to basically do whatever they wanted.
I turned my head, looking over my shoulder, watching the man's tall figure disappear into the fog. Nothing else was visible. From here, I couldn't even tell where buildings were, if there were any buildings. I couldn't see the line where land separated from sky. Everything was the same color, everything was coated in fog. What kind of a place was this? I looked forward again, raising a hand to grab the corner of the black scarf around my neck, playing with a shred of the cloth in my fingertips. My legs were crossed, my toe tapping lightly against the floor, awaiting for something to happen. We couldn't sit here forever, in a train filled with people that are supposed to be locked up in rooms, kept away from everyone else.
I looked up at the sound of footsteps in the train once more, only to see the conductor coming back onto the train. He stood there, stunned almost, for a moment. I raised an eyebrow, still playing with the fabric of the scarf. He was the conductor, he was supposed to do something.
"Well?" I spoke up, staring up at him. It felt odd, almost, to speak. I hadn't heard my own voice in a long time, I hadn't spoken a word through the whole trip. "What now? Did you figure something out?"
If the guy hadn't found anything to do with the train, I knew that I wouldn't be afraid to wander around the town to find someone to help, or maybe whatever the guy needed to get the train working. Or just a way out. But from the looks of the place, it seemed pretty deserted. Cross out that first option.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Well?" a voice said, but I ignored it.
I was busy with more important things.
Donna, you've never quit before, I tried. She didn't answer me. Something in the back of my head reminded me that she was a train, not a person. I told that 'something' where to go and continued my mental conversation.
It's like . . . you're done.
I blew air between my cheeks intermittently, a little nervous by this thought.
You can't be. I won't let you. You -
"What now?" the voice persisted, interrupting my thoughts. "Did you figure something out?"
My eyes made their trek to the man's face. A young face. Then I remembered the situation we were in. I wasn't sure what to make of him. But the way he sat, leaned - the way his eyebrows raised. Yes, I was sure of it. Even his tone spoke of it. He was the sort of man that I detested. A man who, rising to a high position early in his life, believed that he was better than everyone else. I wouldn't let him condescend me. I pointed to him in an aggressive manner.
"You just calm down, 'kay?" I said. My mouth formed an expression of irritation. I shrugged, unable to suppress the habit. I didn't really know the man, but that didn't matter. I figured I had his type pegged. Then the nurse from before, the nervous one sitting next to this scarfed man screamed:
"I'm so scared!"
"Shut up." The doctor, also the one from earlier, said to her. She yelped but did as he bid her. I decided to make a joke. It solved most of my issues and I suspected it would lighten the nurse's mood.
"What do you call a man without a head, a heart, or lungs?" I asked her. Then I coughed a few times, hard. Damn cigarettes. But cursing the smokes made me crave another one. I patted my pants for a pack and in the meantime the nurse responded to me:
"A werewolf?" She tried. What the . . .? How did she get a 'werewolf' out of that?
"Dead." I told her and I shrugged. It wasn't very funny. I also didn't consider how uneasy that might make her.
"That's not funny! What's wrong with you?" She said. I shrugged again. Whatever. Then I remembered the scarfed man. Some part of me was trying to ignore him.
"The station here looks like a house. I don't know why," I explained to him. "We'll have to go into town to find some way to contact the next station over."
Would that suffice? Would this man shut up now? Then I remembered another detail:
"Oh, and I found a map."
I was busy with more important things.
Donna, you've never quit before, I tried. She didn't answer me. Something in the back of my head reminded me that she was a train, not a person. I told that 'something' where to go and continued my mental conversation.
It's like . . . you're done.
I blew air between my cheeks intermittently, a little nervous by this thought.
You can't be. I won't let you. You -
"What now?" the voice persisted, interrupting my thoughts. "Did you figure something out?"
My eyes made their trek to the man's face. A young face. Then I remembered the situation we were in. I wasn't sure what to make of him. But the way he sat, leaned - the way his eyebrows raised. Yes, I was sure of it. Even his tone spoke of it. He was the sort of man that I detested. A man who, rising to a high position early in his life, believed that he was better than everyone else. I wouldn't let him condescend me. I pointed to him in an aggressive manner.
"You just calm down, 'kay?" I said. My mouth formed an expression of irritation. I shrugged, unable to suppress the habit. I didn't really know the man, but that didn't matter. I figured I had his type pegged. Then the nurse from before, the nervous one sitting next to this scarfed man screamed:
"I'm so scared!"
"Shut up." The doctor, also the one from earlier, said to her. She yelped but did as he bid her. I decided to make a joke. It solved most of my issues and I suspected it would lighten the nurse's mood.
"What do you call a man without a head, a heart, or lungs?" I asked her. Then I coughed a few times, hard. Damn cigarettes. But cursing the smokes made me crave another one. I patted my pants for a pack and in the meantime the nurse responded to me:
"A werewolf?" She tried. What the . . .? How did she get a 'werewolf' out of that?
"Dead." I told her and I shrugged. It wasn't very funny. I also didn't consider how uneasy that might make her.
"That's not funny! What's wrong with you?" She said. I shrugged again. Whatever. Then I remembered the scarfed man. Some part of me was trying to ignore him.
"The station here looks like a house. I don't know why," I explained to him. "We'll have to go into town to find some way to contact the next station over."
Would that suffice? Would this man shut up now? Then I remembered another detail:
"Oh, and I found a map."
Setting
0.00 INK
He didn't look at me for long, but even for the short moments our eyes were connected, I felt hate spark within me. It happened with certain people, just an odd feeling that told me to avoid them. With this man, I could see my own emotions reflecting in his eyes. Why was he looking at me like that? I expected no words from him, and was about to look away out the window again when he spoke up. Shouted at me.
I glared. No words escaped my lips, but I wanted nothing more than to yell at this ill-tempered man. I was perfectly calm right now, I had just been trying to get some answers out of him. But he proved to be as stubborn as I suspected. I tugged a strip of the fabric off of my scarf, lowering my hand and letting the piece slip from my fingertips. I forced myself to stay silent. Well, what had I gained from that? Absolutely nothing.
Suddenly, the nurse next to me screamed out something. I jumped a bit, startled by the sudden cry, and turned my head to look at her. She was freaking out. I couldn't see why she was so scared. A place covered in fog. Mental patients on a train. Maybe to a normal person, that would be the recipe for doom. But I was fine, and she should be too. She worked at the place. The doctor next to her had grumbled a bitter, "Shut up". I couldn't blame him. Her worry was probably putting stress on everyone else, even I could feel myself tense at the sound of her worry.
I looked up as the conductor seemed to be attempting a joke. I could only see this ending in disaster. I narrowed my eyes at the sound of his cough. That didn't sound healthy.
I seemed to be right, as the final result only lead to the nurse panicking even more. I didn't want her freaking out even more, so I lifted a reassuring hand, and patted her shoulder lightly, hoping that maybe she would calm down a bit.
The diseased/unhealthy/old man seemed to have remembered that I was still here, and hadn't disappeared. Great. Just the news I wanted to here. I crossed my arms over my chest. At the mentioning of a map, I gave a quiet sigh of relief.
"You could have mentioned that earlier." I mumbled quietly, lifting my gaze up towards him. I replayed his previous words once again in my mind. Go into town. Well, this guy would probably get in there, have some coughing fit and collapse. Okay, maybe nothing that drastic, but two people in the place searching was better than one.
I got up from my seat. It felt nice to stand up, I had been sitting down almost all day. I stretched myself out quickly, reached out my arms, then pulled them back towards my side.
"Can I...see this map? I'm not sure if I trust only you to get help for everyone here."
I glared. No words escaped my lips, but I wanted nothing more than to yell at this ill-tempered man. I was perfectly calm right now, I had just been trying to get some answers out of him. But he proved to be as stubborn as I suspected. I tugged a strip of the fabric off of my scarf, lowering my hand and letting the piece slip from my fingertips. I forced myself to stay silent. Well, what had I gained from that? Absolutely nothing.
Suddenly, the nurse next to me screamed out something. I jumped a bit, startled by the sudden cry, and turned my head to look at her. She was freaking out. I couldn't see why she was so scared. A place covered in fog. Mental patients on a train. Maybe to a normal person, that would be the recipe for doom. But I was fine, and she should be too. She worked at the place. The doctor next to her had grumbled a bitter, "Shut up". I couldn't blame him. Her worry was probably putting stress on everyone else, even I could feel myself tense at the sound of her worry.
I looked up as the conductor seemed to be attempting a joke. I could only see this ending in disaster. I narrowed my eyes at the sound of his cough. That didn't sound healthy.
I seemed to be right, as the final result only lead to the nurse panicking even more. I didn't want her freaking out even more, so I lifted a reassuring hand, and patted her shoulder lightly, hoping that maybe she would calm down a bit.
The diseased/unhealthy/old man seemed to have remembered that I was still here, and hadn't disappeared. Great. Just the news I wanted to here. I crossed my arms over my chest. At the mentioning of a map, I gave a quiet sigh of relief.
"You could have mentioned that earlier." I mumbled quietly, lifting my gaze up towards him. I replayed his previous words once again in my mind. Go into town. Well, this guy would probably get in there, have some coughing fit and collapse. Okay, maybe nothing that drastic, but two people in the place searching was better than one.
I got up from my seat. It felt nice to stand up, I had been sitting down almost all day. I stretched myself out quickly, reached out my arms, then pulled them back towards my side.
"Can I...see this map? I'm not sure if I trust only you to get help for everyone here."
Setting
0.00 INK
I heard his sigh first. Then, after a moment of straining, I made out his mumble.
"You . . . . have . . . mentioned . . . earlier." I heard something along those lines. My mouth, ever agape, bent. My eyes flattened. My eyebrows did nothing as was customary for them to do. I felt I had been accused - no, verbally assaulted. I lifted my hand to point, but I put it back down. My trademark shrug came around the bend and lifted my shoulders.
He was standing up.
"Can I . . ." the scarfed man began. Could he tag along like a lost dog in need of food? NO. " . . . see this map?"
I was relieved to see that he had no interest in coming with me. I knew I had said we'll have to go into town but the we'll of that sentence was only a formality. I didn't want him along. My relief, however, was dashed by his next lines,
"I'm not sure if I trust only you to get help for everyone here." He emphasized the only you. He emphasized the get help. I went through my cards. How would I react to his arrogance this time? Instead of choosing more conflict, I went for my preferred route - run away. I turned to leave, a move he most likely would mistake for compliance, but it didn't matter, for at that moment . . .
Crash. A patient had wiggled free from his caretaker's grip and rushed through a window of the train. Glass cascaded onto the soot platform, turning the platform into a mockery of the night sky. I didn't care about the patient, though. I didn't care about the panic. I wasn't paying attention to that, no - I was staring at the broken window. MY WINDOW. MY DONNA. He had destroyed a piece of her - snapped her arms in two. His crazed laughter as he ran down the dirt path past the station could be heard from here, not that I could see him in this fog. I put my hand upon the scarfed man's shoulder. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't friendly. It was the sort of grip one reserved for intense labors and rope-climbing.
"Let's. Go." I stepped onto the platform. I slipped. I slipped again. My anger at that man was akin to the congestion of a microwaved heart. I wanted to explode. I didn't understand then what drove such emotion. I didn't care, then, either. I got onto the dirt path, my eyes gracelessly gliding across the makeshift sign: "Transition Street --- > ". I ran, tripped, fell. Now I was more brown than black. In a racist kind of way, I wondered what color I would bathe in next. I stood up. This rush wouldn't get me anywhere. I slowed myself down - walking, now with a limp. My anger, in an instant, was a strange memory. I didn't think too heavily on this dramatic shift. I just walked. I assumed the scarfed man was behind me.
'The scarfed man' . . . heh, I don't even know his name, I humorlessly considered to myself.
"You . . . . have . . . mentioned . . . earlier." I heard something along those lines. My mouth, ever agape, bent. My eyes flattened. My eyebrows did nothing as was customary for them to do. I felt I had been accused - no, verbally assaulted. I lifted my hand to point, but I put it back down. My trademark shrug came around the bend and lifted my shoulders.
He was standing up.
"Can I . . ." the scarfed man began. Could he tag along like a lost dog in need of food? NO. " . . . see this map?"
I was relieved to see that he had no interest in coming with me. I knew I had said we'll have to go into town but the we'll of that sentence was only a formality. I didn't want him along. My relief, however, was dashed by his next lines,
"I'm not sure if I trust only you to get help for everyone here." He emphasized the only you. He emphasized the get help. I went through my cards. How would I react to his arrogance this time? Instead of choosing more conflict, I went for my preferred route - run away. I turned to leave, a move he most likely would mistake for compliance, but it didn't matter, for at that moment . . .
Crash. A patient had wiggled free from his caretaker's grip and rushed through a window of the train. Glass cascaded onto the soot platform, turning the platform into a mockery of the night sky. I didn't care about the patient, though. I didn't care about the panic. I wasn't paying attention to that, no - I was staring at the broken window. MY WINDOW. MY DONNA. He had destroyed a piece of her - snapped her arms in two. His crazed laughter as he ran down the dirt path past the station could be heard from here, not that I could see him in this fog. I put my hand upon the scarfed man's shoulder. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't friendly. It was the sort of grip one reserved for intense labors and rope-climbing.
"Let's. Go." I stepped onto the platform. I slipped. I slipped again. My anger at that man was akin to the congestion of a microwaved heart. I wanted to explode. I didn't understand then what drove such emotion. I didn't care, then, either. I got onto the dirt path, my eyes gracelessly gliding across the makeshift sign: "Transition Street --- > ". I ran, tripped, fell. Now I was more brown than black. In a racist kind of way, I wondered what color I would bathe in next. I stood up. This rush wouldn't get me anywhere. I slowed myself down - walking, now with a limp. My anger, in an instant, was a strange memory. I didn't think too heavily on this dramatic shift. I just walked. I assumed the scarfed man was behind me.
'The scarfed man' . . . heh, I don't even know his name, I humorlessly considered to myself.
Setting
0.00 INK
Hardly a few seconds after I had spoken, I heard a loud crash behind me, the sound of glass shattering, pieces hitting the floor. I turned my head to glance over my shoulder, pulling my extended hand back towards my own body. One patient that had previously been sitting near the back of the train, was gone. Beside, was a shattered window. A doctor got up from his seat, rushing to the back. He shouted out the window, called and cried for the man to get back to the train. To no avail it was. The nurse behind me clutched onto the nearest person to her, another psychiatrist, who pulled away from her grasp.
I hardly panicked. A few other patients stared at the broken window with longing eyes, as if they wanted to leave, but were unable to for some reason. I couldn't even guess, who knew what was going on in their heads? Well...me, but not at the time. I brushed the thought away, turning my gaze back towards the man who had been hacking up half a lung previously. He was in shock. That was the only emotion I could read on his stone face. He was staring at the window. Was he worried about the patient?...No, probably not. From what I could guess about him so far, he probably couldn't give a crap if some guy flew himself out the window.
His laughed ringed in my mind. I wondered briefly, as most thoughts came to me out of the blue, what was it like to be...crazy? Were you aware that you were like this? Probably with some more minor stuff, but I meant sadistic-crazy-murderer sort of mental issues. The guy had just thrown himself out a window. He probably lacked any common sense at all, any sense of judgment or thinking.
Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked up. It wasn't a reassuring grasp. I felt as if the man was going to toss me onto the ground, throw me off to the side. I stepped away from him, and looked out towards the people of the train.
"Let's. Go."
I followed him. Waiting at the exit of the train, I watched him slip on the platform a few times, chuckling to myself softly. I stepped out myself after watching the man walk off into the fog. I hadn't even gotten to look at the map! I sped up my pace a bit to keep up with his, my eyes searching over all of the things I could see here. Some old house, no, a station. I could hardly see the banner across it. I could hardly see anything. The only thing that guided me was his figure a few steps away from me.
On instinct almost, I reached into my pocket to grab my black phone. I wanted to know a bit more about this place. Obviously this guy wasn't going to let me stop anywhere to look for information. I expected the usual glowing screen to welcome me, but there was...nothing. I turned it on, and the screen lit up. I continued stepping along, glancing up every now and then to make sure I wasn't falling behind. I managed to see him fall flat on his face on the ground, and let out a quiet laugh, but decided not to bother him about his clumsiness. I went to go access the internet, when it just turned off again. I shrugged, slipping the electronic back into my pocket.
I decided to speak up.
"Look, I don't know where the hell you're going, and I know that I would be a lot more comfortable if..." He was still a bit ahead of me. I paused, then ran up quickly, ignoring the slight pain in my right leg, and continued to walk along beside him.
"If I had the map, and knew your name."
I hardly panicked. A few other patients stared at the broken window with longing eyes, as if they wanted to leave, but were unable to for some reason. I couldn't even guess, who knew what was going on in their heads? Well...me, but not at the time. I brushed the thought away, turning my gaze back towards the man who had been hacking up half a lung previously. He was in shock. That was the only emotion I could read on his stone face. He was staring at the window. Was he worried about the patient?...No, probably not. From what I could guess about him so far, he probably couldn't give a crap if some guy flew himself out the window.
His laughed ringed in my mind. I wondered briefly, as most thoughts came to me out of the blue, what was it like to be...crazy? Were you aware that you were like this? Probably with some more minor stuff, but I meant sadistic-crazy-murderer sort of mental issues. The guy had just thrown himself out a window. He probably lacked any common sense at all, any sense of judgment or thinking.
Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked up. It wasn't a reassuring grasp. I felt as if the man was going to toss me onto the ground, throw me off to the side. I stepped away from him, and looked out towards the people of the train.
"Let's. Go."
I followed him. Waiting at the exit of the train, I watched him slip on the platform a few times, chuckling to myself softly. I stepped out myself after watching the man walk off into the fog. I hadn't even gotten to look at the map! I sped up my pace a bit to keep up with his, my eyes searching over all of the things I could see here. Some old house, no, a station. I could hardly see the banner across it. I could hardly see anything. The only thing that guided me was his figure a few steps away from me.
On instinct almost, I reached into my pocket to grab my black phone. I wanted to know a bit more about this place. Obviously this guy wasn't going to let me stop anywhere to look for information. I expected the usual glowing screen to welcome me, but there was...nothing. I turned it on, and the screen lit up. I continued stepping along, glancing up every now and then to make sure I wasn't falling behind. I managed to see him fall flat on his face on the ground, and let out a quiet laugh, but decided not to bother him about his clumsiness. I went to go access the internet, when it just turned off again. I shrugged, slipping the electronic back into my pocket.
I decided to speak up.
"Look, I don't know where the hell you're going, and I know that I would be a lot more comfortable if..." He was still a bit ahead of me. I paused, then ran up quickly, ignoring the slight pain in my right leg, and continued to walk along beside him.
"If I had the map, and knew your name."
Setting
0.00 INK
I don’t know what to think. I can only stare to the front of me, my eyes watered as I became more claustrophobic, it seems the doctors in this place are less remorseful than me. My arms are bonded together, the jacket they have me in is striking every last nerve I thought I had. I clench my teeth in anger, and start to breath heavily, I feel as if I’m about to explode, like my eye sockets are bul…
I came back to reality at the sound of a window being smashed from the inside. It was a loud, high pitched piercing sound, and I was shocked, startled even… But to my luck, the nurse that was patrolling me rushed out of the room, grabbing her first aid kit, she stumbled out of my cart. I stood in silence for only a mere few seconds before I was interrupted.
“You pussy, what the fuck are you doing? Sitting here while everyone else has all the fun? I don’t think so… Get your lazy ass off that chair and get the fuck out of here!”
“Joh…” I break myself of in mid sentence. I know that if I’m heard, the nurses will come back and Ill have no chance of getting out of here. I only glare at him, he smiles and gestures towards a scalpel. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get it, I can barely stand up as it is. But I manage, I prop myself up, both feet placed firmly on the ground and I begin to trudge towards the table. I make sure my footsteps are unheard, and that I’m unseen. The table has few items on it, a plastic cup of water, a plastic fork and a scalpel, it’s obvious what one I picked. I used my teeth to grasp the handel of it, making sure not to slice my mouth open... Never running with scissors? Try never running with a scalpel in your mouth while held back by a straight jacket.
At this moment, I’m overly happy, this is my chance to get away from this shit hole. To be free. I head towards the end of my cart, going in the opposite direction that the nurse had headed. I reach the back entrance and force the door open. The train they put us on was obviously a one way ticket to hell, everything was rusted and I’m surprised we even got this far.
The door creaks as I open it, I’m careful and slow and if there hadn’t been such an uproar from whatever retard had smashed that window, I would have still been sitting in that tacky, busted up chair… Only minutes ago I had been starving, I was so hungry I wasn’t sure If I would event make it to the end of the train, but now I’m fine. I don’t feel hungry, I don’t feel full. But I obviously haven’t been eating properly, I must have lost a few pounds because sliding through the narrow gap between the wall and the door was much easier than I thought…
I planted both feet on the ground and took a deep breath, I felt a crooked smile come a across my face, I’ve won for now. Maybe if I’m lucky a patient died when jumping from the window, maybe a shard pierced his neck and sliced his jugular? That would buy me a good ten or twenty minutes.
“Good job skank, maybe your not so bad after all”…
Why does he follow me…. Can’t he just learn to leave me alone… I turn to slap him, I try to wind my hand back but realize that I fucking can't! This jacket wont let me do anything, I feel so pathetic... But it's to late to slap his bitch-ass face because I now realize he’s gone. All I see now is the dark ash that falls from the sky, and an empty town facing me.
This is going to be fun.
I came back to reality at the sound of a window being smashed from the inside. It was a loud, high pitched piercing sound, and I was shocked, startled even… But to my luck, the nurse that was patrolling me rushed out of the room, grabbing her first aid kit, she stumbled out of my cart. I stood in silence for only a mere few seconds before I was interrupted.
“You pussy, what the fuck are you doing? Sitting here while everyone else has all the fun? I don’t think so… Get your lazy ass off that chair and get the fuck out of here!”
“Joh…” I break myself of in mid sentence. I know that if I’m heard, the nurses will come back and Ill have no chance of getting out of here. I only glare at him, he smiles and gestures towards a scalpel. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get it, I can barely stand up as it is. But I manage, I prop myself up, both feet placed firmly on the ground and I begin to trudge towards the table. I make sure my footsteps are unheard, and that I’m unseen. The table has few items on it, a plastic cup of water, a plastic fork and a scalpel, it’s obvious what one I picked. I used my teeth to grasp the handel of it, making sure not to slice my mouth open... Never running with scissors? Try never running with a scalpel in your mouth while held back by a straight jacket.
At this moment, I’m overly happy, this is my chance to get away from this shit hole. To be free. I head towards the end of my cart, going in the opposite direction that the nurse had headed. I reach the back entrance and force the door open. The train they put us on was obviously a one way ticket to hell, everything was rusted and I’m surprised we even got this far.
The door creaks as I open it, I’m careful and slow and if there hadn’t been such an uproar from whatever retard had smashed that window, I would have still been sitting in that tacky, busted up chair… Only minutes ago I had been starving, I was so hungry I wasn’t sure If I would event make it to the end of the train, but now I’m fine. I don’t feel hungry, I don’t feel full. But I obviously haven’t been eating properly, I must have lost a few pounds because sliding through the narrow gap between the wall and the door was much easier than I thought…
I planted both feet on the ground and took a deep breath, I felt a crooked smile come a across my face, I’ve won for now. Maybe if I’m lucky a patient died when jumping from the window, maybe a shard pierced his neck and sliced his jugular? That would buy me a good ten or twenty minutes.
“Good job skank, maybe your not so bad after all”…
Why does he follow me…. Can’t he just learn to leave me alone… I turn to slap him, I try to wind my hand back but realize that I fucking can't! This jacket wont let me do anything, I feel so pathetic... But it's to late to slap his bitch-ass face because I now realize he’s gone. All I see now is the dark ash that falls from the sky, and an empty town facing me.
This is going to be fun.
Setting
0.00 INK
". . . If I had the map, and knew your name." He said, now walking alongside me.
"Funny. I've been calling you 'the scarfed man' for a while now. Name's Iko, though," I said, handing him the map. "You should have gotten one yourself at the station, but no matter. One of my hobbies is cartography."
Heh, I actually sounded friendly. I didn't intend to, but I wasn't going to correct myself now. Then I remembered that I needed a cigarette. I once again patted myself down for a pack. I found it in my shoe, interestingly enough. After hopping around - on my good leg, of course - a bit, I managed to pull it out. Unfortunately there was only one in there. Now to find a match. I found one sitting behind my ear. That wasn't a strange occurrence - I often kept small objects there. It actually lit pretty easily; I might have murdered this man otherwise.
The smoke fell back at me as I exhaled. If it hit him in the face, too, I didn't notice. I just kept walking, and then after a few moments, I started coughing again. I shrugged it off and inhaled some more. I planned to buy another pack at our next stop, once we got back on track. Then again, there would probably be some shops in the town. This gave me some relief. I was already craving another cigarette and I wasn't even halfway done with this one. My thoughts wandered to my train, then. I gestured at the scarfed man aggressively, embers scattering from my cigarette.
"I expect payment for that window. You're not getting off that train again once we're back up and running," I said, and paused for a moment to inhale. "If you don't give me something first." There, now it would be clear that I wasn't trying to make nice with him - he was still a prick to me.
"Funny. I've been calling you 'the scarfed man' for a while now. Name's Iko, though," I said, handing him the map. "You should have gotten one yourself at the station, but no matter. One of my hobbies is cartography."
Heh, I actually sounded friendly. I didn't intend to, but I wasn't going to correct myself now. Then I remembered that I needed a cigarette. I once again patted myself down for a pack. I found it in my shoe, interestingly enough. After hopping around - on my good leg, of course - a bit, I managed to pull it out. Unfortunately there was only one in there. Now to find a match. I found one sitting behind my ear. That wasn't a strange occurrence - I often kept small objects there. It actually lit pretty easily; I might have murdered this man otherwise.
The smoke fell back at me as I exhaled. If it hit him in the face, too, I didn't notice. I just kept walking, and then after a few moments, I started coughing again. I shrugged it off and inhaled some more. I planned to buy another pack at our next stop, once we got back on track. Then again, there would probably be some shops in the town. This gave me some relief. I was already craving another cigarette and I wasn't even halfway done with this one. My thoughts wandered to my train, then. I gestured at the scarfed man aggressively, embers scattering from my cigarette.
"I expect payment for that window. You're not getting off that train again once we're back up and running," I said, and paused for a moment to inhale. "If you don't give me something first." There, now it would be clear that I wasn't trying to make nice with him - he was still a prick to me.
Setting
0.00 INK
Scarfed man? I was confused for a moment, yet remembered that there was a black scarf wrapped around my neck. I reached for it suddenly, grabbing a piece of the cloth almost on instinct. I didn't mind the man calling me that, it wasn't insulting. But I very much would prefer my real name as opposed to the one he came up with for me. I lowered my arm, and looked up at him when he quickly said his name. At first I thought I had missed him introducing himself, but soon realized that the odd word he had spoken before, some "Iko" must have been his name.
I didn't say a word. Well, if he was a cartographer, I guess that came in handy. But I doubt that I would be with this guy for long. I kind of wanted to go off by myself to search for information about this place, maybe ask some people around the town. If there was people. It seemed deserted, like one of those western, ghost towns. There had to be people here though. Sure, there was this thick fog. People were probably locked up in their homes. Or.
Gee, maybe I could just ask the guy if he knew anything about the town. I didn't have a clue, but this man seemed pretty sure about everything he was doing, exactly where he was going. I opened my mouth to speak, but was blown in the face by a cloud of smoke. I closed my stinging eyes, stopping in my tracks, coughing into my arm. Of course, his hacking was so much louder than mine. After my small fit was over, I could hardly hear myself think. I wiped a stray tear from my eye. Damn. This happened to explain the guy's cough on the train. Definitely not healthy.
I struggled to not breathe in too deeply, making sure to inhale through my mouth rather than my nose. Second-hand smoke was just as bad as smoking the cigarette itself. I had completely forgotten what I was going to ask him, so just waited for something to happen. Eventually, he slowed down and turned to face me, tiny lights from the end of cigarette flew into the air, floating down to the ground silently. There was no wind, no nothing. Just silence.
I snickered quietly, shaking my head.
"Not a chance. It's not my fault the patients did that, you can blame it on some other psychiatrist that didn't do their job of taking care of those people." I took a small step back away from him, avoiding the scent given off from his breath and the cigarette.
"I can give you some advice though. Stop smoking. It's a horrible thing to do to yourself."
I didn't say a word. Well, if he was a cartographer, I guess that came in handy. But I doubt that I would be with this guy for long. I kind of wanted to go off by myself to search for information about this place, maybe ask some people around the town. If there was people. It seemed deserted, like one of those western, ghost towns. There had to be people here though. Sure, there was this thick fog. People were probably locked up in their homes. Or.
Gee, maybe I could just ask the guy if he knew anything about the town. I didn't have a clue, but this man seemed pretty sure about everything he was doing, exactly where he was going. I opened my mouth to speak, but was blown in the face by a cloud of smoke. I closed my stinging eyes, stopping in my tracks, coughing into my arm. Of course, his hacking was so much louder than mine. After my small fit was over, I could hardly hear myself think. I wiped a stray tear from my eye. Damn. This happened to explain the guy's cough on the train. Definitely not healthy.
I struggled to not breathe in too deeply, making sure to inhale through my mouth rather than my nose. Second-hand smoke was just as bad as smoking the cigarette itself. I had completely forgotten what I was going to ask him, so just waited for something to happen. Eventually, he slowed down and turned to face me, tiny lights from the end of cigarette flew into the air, floating down to the ground silently. There was no wind, no nothing. Just silence.
I snickered quietly, shaking my head.
"Not a chance. It's not my fault the patients did that, you can blame it on some other psychiatrist that didn't do their job of taking care of those people." I took a small step back away from him, avoiding the scent given off from his breath and the cigarette.
"I can give you some advice though. Stop smoking. It's a horrible thing to do to yourself."
Setting
0.00 INK
I inhaled extra hard, then exhaled with the same intensity, pointedly facing him so he understood my intentions by it. I hoped he choked to death on the fumes.
"Look, kid. I didn't have to take this job. No one else would - probably because of all the loons, but I am pretty sure there was a more pressing reason - YOU," I said and I shrugged. "You're a higher up, I can already tell. You're also an arrogant dweeb, with a penchant for bad advice. I'll do what I want. I'll even leave you if I want. I'll just say I accidentally forgot you; oops."
I had more to say but my lungs lost air. I exhaled another puff in the scarfed man's direction.
"I've got seniority - do you know what that is? No, guess not - so my superiors will believe me over you."
I said and I shrugged, again. Part of me was surprised at myself, another part of me was pleased that I hadn't run away or told a lame joke to get us off this subject. All of me was not enjoying this cigarette - this guy had ruined it. I tossed it carelessly off the side of the road where the trees were. Then I crushed the empty pack and stuck it in a pocket. No matter what this man said next, I wasn't going to tolerate his company any longer. As soon as he finished his clever retort riddled with complex words and unnecessary similes, I would take my leave. But I guess the kindness in my heart wanted to give him a chance to make himself look stupid. To look like me.
"Look, kid. I didn't have to take this job. No one else would - probably because of all the loons, but I am pretty sure there was a more pressing reason - YOU," I said and I shrugged. "You're a higher up, I can already tell. You're also an arrogant dweeb, with a penchant for bad advice. I'll do what I want. I'll even leave you if I want. I'll just say I accidentally forgot you; oops."
I had more to say but my lungs lost air. I exhaled another puff in the scarfed man's direction.
"I've got seniority - do you know what that is? No, guess not - so my superiors will believe me over you."
I said and I shrugged, again. Part of me was surprised at myself, another part of me was pleased that I hadn't run away or told a lame joke to get us off this subject. All of me was not enjoying this cigarette - this guy had ruined it. I tossed it carelessly off the side of the road where the trees were. Then I crushed the empty pack and stuck it in a pocket. No matter what this man said next, I wasn't going to tolerate his company any longer. As soon as he finished his clever retort riddled with complex words and unnecessary similes, I would take my leave. But I guess the kindness in my heart wanted to give him a chance to make himself look stupid. To look like me.
Setting
0.00 INK
I knew what was coming after he inhaled the fumes like that. I turned my head in the other direction, yet was still blasted by the cloud of smoke. I coughed out-loud again, grabbing the end of my scarf, and continuing my coughing fit into there rather than making a lot of noise. My eyes were tearing up again. I had kept myself away from smoking environments, from smokers. My body wasn't used to it. It was almost like I could feel the toxic fumes invading my lungs, slowly killing me. Okay, maybe that was a bit over-dramatic, but still, it bothered me.
I glared up at him, as intensely as I could my eyes narrowed in anger. Now he was going off about how I was supposed to respect him? Please. I would never give an ounce of respect towards this guy. He was as bad as some of the lazy doctors who worked here, wasting their lives away, thinking they were in some position that people should look up to. But really, it was nothing like that. This guy was killing himself, smoking away those cigarettes like nobody's business.
But why should I care? I knew that I wasn't the reason that people avoided this job. Obviously, it was all the crazy people. Others looked up to me. Head Psychiatrist was a wonderful job, if you wanted people to respect you. And that's what they did! ...Right? I felt an odd feeling in my stomach. Why was I suddenly unsure if people liked me or not? Was it all because of this guy? I forced the thought away.
I lowered my scarf, and took a deep breath of air, only to breath in the smoke. This time, I didn't cough at all, only grimaced at the smell and taste, my eyes stinging even more. Then he decided to bring in a whole seniority issue. I gave an exasperated sigh. It was like he was a child! "I'm the bigger kid, so I get more privileges." Complete shit.
"You're a train conductor. If you haven't realized it yet, that's a mediocre job that no one really notices." I was talking a bit fast, I realized, but it was only because I was kind of pissed off. I took a deep breath, calming myself down. Why argue with him anymore? I was just wasting my breath. I came to the conclusion that I would just go off by myself. It shouldn't be that hard to find someone to help with the train, or at least another nearby town. I unleashed everything I had on him.
"I'm done with you. You're a waste of skin, and my breath. Enjoy smoking your cancer sticks." With my farewell finished, I turned around from him, and went down the first pathway I saw, away from him, away from the station that was now far, far behind me, where we had first started. I didn't know where I was going, hopefully I would find some place to just sit down and think for a moment. Someplace quiet.
...
I missed my dog.
I glared up at him, as intensely as I could my eyes narrowed in anger. Now he was going off about how I was supposed to respect him? Please. I would never give an ounce of respect towards this guy. He was as bad as some of the lazy doctors who worked here, wasting their lives away, thinking they were in some position that people should look up to. But really, it was nothing like that. This guy was killing himself, smoking away those cigarettes like nobody's business.
But why should I care? I knew that I wasn't the reason that people avoided this job. Obviously, it was all the crazy people. Others looked up to me. Head Psychiatrist was a wonderful job, if you wanted people to respect you. And that's what they did! ...Right? I felt an odd feeling in my stomach. Why was I suddenly unsure if people liked me or not? Was it all because of this guy? I forced the thought away.
I lowered my scarf, and took a deep breath of air, only to breath in the smoke. This time, I didn't cough at all, only grimaced at the smell and taste, my eyes stinging even more. Then he decided to bring in a whole seniority issue. I gave an exasperated sigh. It was like he was a child! "I'm the bigger kid, so I get more privileges." Complete shit.
"You're a train conductor. If you haven't realized it yet, that's a mediocre job that no one really notices." I was talking a bit fast, I realized, but it was only because I was kind of pissed off. I took a deep breath, calming myself down. Why argue with him anymore? I was just wasting my breath. I came to the conclusion that I would just go off by myself. It shouldn't be that hard to find someone to help with the train, or at least another nearby town. I unleashed everything I had on him.
"I'm done with you. You're a waste of skin, and my breath. Enjoy smoking your cancer sticks." With my farewell finished, I turned around from him, and went down the first pathway I saw, away from him, away from the station that was now far, far behind me, where we had first started. I didn't know where I was going, hopefully I would find some place to just sit down and think for a moment. Someplace quiet.
...
I missed my dog.
Setting
0.00 INK
I knew I would have to be fast, there’s no telling how close I am to any of the doctors. I knew taking the clear path straight into town would be a deathtrap, so instead I veered right, leading deeper into the forest. I knew that If I hurried I could avoid making contact with anyone.
It was hard to tell where I was, but I always managed to see the faint rooftops of all the buildings that enveloped the distance. Travelling in a straight jacket was no easy task, I have to be extra careful, slipping could mean as much as a ten minute setback, and sadly I didn’t have that long. I kept on moving forward but the forest will only get thicker before it gets thinner. I was deep enough in so that the sounds of the broken branches below my feet would have no effect to anyone nearby, but I was close enough to everyone else that if I was to fall, and scream, my voice would infect the ears of anyone in my radius. I was taking a huge risk. The scalpel in my mouth was possibly the worst of my fears, one wrong move and I would be impaled by my own tool.
“Silver please! Please be careful. If you fell and hit your head, or that knife, what if it pierces through your eyeball? You could die out here. Why don’t you just go back.”
‘Shut up Clyde!” Tears began to roll down my eyes, its not like anything like this hasn’t happened before, but I hate to yell at Clyde, he’s such a sweet heart. I was about to apologize but before the words could come out of my mouth he was gone. Maybe my voice was too harsh for him, he’s so fragile. Poor Clyde…
I keep moving… This jacket is really stressing me out, its hard to breathe, its almost torture. I keep finding uses for my arms but fulfilling my ideas becomes impossible, every second my arms begin to jerk more and more. I only now realize that my mouth is drooling over the scalpel, I really want to drop it, it only makes my trip more dangerous. But I refuse.
I’ve now slowed down to a walking pace, too tired to keep up a jog. My chest has tightened and my loss of breath has made it harder to even think straight. I’m not even sure how much time has passed, I cant even recall that I’ve been 100% conscious while journeying through this god-forsaken forest. It’s cold and I can only feel myself begin to tip, I’m seeing two of everything, I’m not sure what is happening to me, but before I know it I’m fighting too stay awake, on the ground, barely conscious… Then I’m gone… Maybe ill just rest for a little bit. I feel myself drift into a dream world…
“What have you done Silver”
“NOTHING! I did nothing wrong”
“Miss Embro, is he going to be alright?”
“Kids, go outside and play, Silver, come right beside me! Look what you have done!”
“Please! Please! I did nothing”
“You brat come back here”
I didn’t even know I had killed the class pet until Miss Embro had told me during my punishment. No one looked at me the same after that. But it’s little body felt so good to squeeze. I could only remember few things from that day. I now knew the basic concept of death, and that my new passion for art would begin here. At such a young age my peers would already despise me.
Great!
It was hard to tell where I was, but I always managed to see the faint rooftops of all the buildings that enveloped the distance. Travelling in a straight jacket was no easy task, I have to be extra careful, slipping could mean as much as a ten minute setback, and sadly I didn’t have that long. I kept on moving forward but the forest will only get thicker before it gets thinner. I was deep enough in so that the sounds of the broken branches below my feet would have no effect to anyone nearby, but I was close enough to everyone else that if I was to fall, and scream, my voice would infect the ears of anyone in my radius. I was taking a huge risk. The scalpel in my mouth was possibly the worst of my fears, one wrong move and I would be impaled by my own tool.
“Silver please! Please be careful. If you fell and hit your head, or that knife, what if it pierces through your eyeball? You could die out here. Why don’t you just go back.”
‘Shut up Clyde!” Tears began to roll down my eyes, its not like anything like this hasn’t happened before, but I hate to yell at Clyde, he’s such a sweet heart. I was about to apologize but before the words could come out of my mouth he was gone. Maybe my voice was too harsh for him, he’s so fragile. Poor Clyde…
I keep moving… This jacket is really stressing me out, its hard to breathe, its almost torture. I keep finding uses for my arms but fulfilling my ideas becomes impossible, every second my arms begin to jerk more and more. I only now realize that my mouth is drooling over the scalpel, I really want to drop it, it only makes my trip more dangerous. But I refuse.
I’ve now slowed down to a walking pace, too tired to keep up a jog. My chest has tightened and my loss of breath has made it harder to even think straight. I’m not even sure how much time has passed, I cant even recall that I’ve been 100% conscious while journeying through this god-forsaken forest. It’s cold and I can only feel myself begin to tip, I’m seeing two of everything, I’m not sure what is happening to me, but before I know it I’m fighting too stay awake, on the ground, barely conscious… Then I’m gone… Maybe ill just rest for a little bit. I feel myself drift into a dream world…
“What have you done Silver”
“NOTHING! I did nothing wrong”
“Miss Embro, is he going to be alright?”
“Kids, go outside and play, Silver, come right beside me! Look what you have done!”
“Please! Please! I did nothing”
“You brat come back here”
I didn’t even know I had killed the class pet until Miss Embro had told me during my punishment. No one looked at me the same after that. But it’s little body felt so good to squeeze. I could only remember few things from that day. I now knew the basic concept of death, and that my new passion for art would begin here. At such a young age my peers would already despise me.
Great!
Setting
0.00 INK
"I don't care what you think!" I yelled as he departed. He was gone from my view immediately, as if the fog had swallowed him to the bones. I took a different route than him. I knew he was going the wrong direction. I didn't actually know that, but I somehow managed to convince myself that I was right. Then I remembered that I had handed him my map. Damn. I didn't want to go back to the train to get another one - not because of the train itself, never because of the train. It was the occupants of the train that bugged me. The possibility of running into another employee bothered me more than the idea of dealing with an asylum patient. That is how deep of an impression that scarfed man had left on me. I had never got his name, but I didn't care. Doubtless his family was as stuck up as he was and it was something like 'Darwin'. Yeah, I'd call him that - Darwin.
Settled on his moniker, I kept moving. I couldn't see anything. I kept my eyes down to my feet to make sure I didn't trip. I wasn't going to look up until I saw someone's shoes in my vision. I probably should have been looking at the signs so I could find my way back more easily, but I was an idiot. Always was and always will be. At one point I reached in my pocket to check my map, only to remember again that I had given it away. I shrugged out my frustrations and walked onward. Eventually it did occur to me to return my vision to what was before me. That is when I saw a sign reading BLOCH ST. But there was something else . . . I wasn't exactly sure what. It looked like there was someone there beneath the sign, pointing up at it and staring back at me . . . but, no, it couldn't be. I blinked and noted that it was just moving fog. I turned down BLOCH ST and, a little spooked, kept my head level to look around. I still couldn't see that far but to my right there seemed to be an electricity company. I went over to it. Yes, that's what it was. I saw a door, but it was boarded up. I guessed it was an old company building. I kept alongside it until I got to the next building - a shop of some sort.
P . . . Pa . . . Pastry Shop, is what I read. I knocked on the door.
And something knocked back.
I paused.
"Excuse me, are you open?" I called through the crack of the door. I tried the doorknob then but it didn't budge. In fact, it seemed to be broken. No one answered. Not questioning it, I continued onward. I passed a souvenir shop, but not expecting much, I didn't stop to knock. There was a grassy something in the place of buildings now, past the souvenir shop and to my right, but I ignored it.
I walked and . . . huh? I stared at the mass before me. I wasn't sure, but it looked like train cars stacked on top of each other. Whatever it was, there was no way I was going that way. I returned to that grassy something and discovered that it was actually a courtyard separating a few buildings. Not really wanting a response, I called out,
"Hey!" I didn't get one. And after I gathered some courage, I pressed on with, "I need help!"
The silence was claustrophobic. I stepped closely to the buildings now, hoping to see someone through a glossy window. Unfortunately, most of the windows were barred or blocked out by boards. Some buildings had metal doors obscuring their purpose. It seemed like no one had lived in this town for years. I didn't exactly want to believe that though. I found an alleyway and moved through it. The street sign said I was at . . . Bra . . . Brad-something. When I looked down from the sign, I saw another mound blocking the road. It appeared to be the same thing as before; it was a pile of train cars. What was going on here? I turned around, not sure where to go. Then I saw . . . an open door! The door belonged to a house. I hurried to it and peered inside.
Well, at least the fog didn't obscure anything here. It was the darkness' turn to do that. I hunted for another match to light my way, but I didn't have any. Placing my hand on a wall, I moved forward. I bumped a small table. Something fell - broke. The crash seemed louder than it really was; it was the absence of noise elsewhere that amplified my perception of it here. I reached down and picked something up. It cut me a little, but I knew I would be fine; it was just a vase. I would apologize to whoever owned this house when I saw them. I never did see them though. I found four doors but all of them were locked. There was also a door at the end. It budged after some hassle and it brought me back into the fog. I was frustrated. There was no one in the house. I had never wanted to apologize for a worthless broken object more in my life. It's not like I could have said sorry to the fog.
I just barely discerned a mass to my left. I figured, correctly, that it was the first train mesh I had seen earlier. I went down and found myself next to the second mound that had impeded my path. The sign was hard to read, but I decided that it said BRADBURY ST. If I wanted to, I could have jumped to properly read it. However, I knew that would be ridiculous. I walked only for a moment before I saw yet another mound ahead. But there was nowhere else to go, so I kept on treading. Good thing I did, for there was an alleyway to the left. I didn't realize how oppressive alleyways were. I felt as if the walls would crush me between them if I breathed too wide. I stuck with short breaths. I passed more buildings that I couldn't see . . .
Then I heard shuffling noises.
I stopped. Everything in me stopped. I told myself it was just Darwin walking by. I told myself it was just . . . I told myself . . . short breaths turned to even shorter breaths. Finally, the noise abated. I walked forward and found myself at another street. Thanks to my hobby of cartography, my orientations were pretty good. I knew I was on BLOCH ST again and on the other side of that mound. For a moment, I felt pleased with myself. Then I remembered that I wasn't sure where I was going. I felt uncertainty return, a nagging passenger of the mind. I walked and as I walked, I wondered. Where were the people? Where were the animals? Where was the smell of food, the buzz of passing conversations, the honk of cars? There wasn't going to be another train passing along our route. Guilt crashed within me. I had brought them on that path - I didn't even think to stop and reverse . . . find a new line. I didn't think to call the broken line into headquarters . . . I just went. I went like I always did, with wild abandon to a new track. I had brought them here, and by the looks of it, they would never leave. I was . . . I was at a four-way stop. I pushed my thoughts away and focused on deciding which way to go. To my right I immediately saw another mound but this time I didn't bother to register what it was made of. Two more ways I could go and both of them seemed free of roadblocks. I didn't have a reason why, but I made a left. The sign read BACHMAN RD.
I was no longer interested in the buildings. I didn't expect to find anyone anyway. I was no longer interested in my thoughts. They were too dangerous right now. I was no longer interested in walking, but something caused me to walk anyway. I think it was the constant feeling that someone was just a step behind me. A feeling that if I stopped I would surely die. It was stupid . . . well maybe it wasn't . . . no, it was stupid.
I was passing MATHESON ST now . . . wait. I blinked, but that didn't help me see any better. Still, I was certain of it . . . I moved forward just a little more and saw a light. As I approached it, the light became a sign that said OPEN. I arrived just in time, too, because suddenly the sign gave out and it lit the world no more. I went to the door and, expecting disappointment, tried the knob. The door swung open instead. I closed it once I was inside and turned to face my discovery. It was a burger place, judging by the menu. I walked between the rows of tables. I didn't hear or see anyone else. I was already disheartened. A napkin said that this was a place called QUEEN BURGER. I didn't really care, though. I was alone. I didn't even feel hungry - couldn't remember the last time I had. I sat down near a window just in case someone passed by. I knew no one would and if they did I wouldn't see them through the thick.
Time passed, or at least I think it did. I was in danger of careening back into self-destructive thoughts. I shrugged, opened my mouth - reached for a cigarette I knew wasn't there - to see if I could scare the thoughts away.
Then a shadow moved along the window.
I hopped from my chair and prepared myself for the worse. It was stupid of me, because after a moment I noticed that it was a person walking . . . a person walking . . . a person walking toward the front door of the shop. I sat back down, another strange move on my part, and waited. The door swung open. First a foot, then a hand, an arm - a body . . . a face. A woman had entered. She was staring me down, her face the most alluring object I had ever admired. I couldn't help it when my mouth fell. At least this time it made sense for it to be open. Then I realized something I hadn't realized in her face a moment ago - she was sad. Hurt, even. She strutted over to me, her body a machine of womanly curves and feminine swagger. She sat down.
Then the woman began twiddling with her fingers. It was like she was about to break up with me but she wasn't sure how to do so. I just stared, flabbergasted. She didn't look like she was going to say anything, so I figured I would.
"I'm -"
"I know who you are," She snapped, "Don't you think I would, after all these years?"
Her voice, even in anger, was melodious. I felt pathetic for the sexual fantasies now cultivating in my mind. But I was also alarmed by her words; I had never met this woman in my life. After all these years . . .?
"I - " I began again, but she would have nothing of it. She banged her hands against the table.
" - Don't you love me? Tell me, Iko, please! . . . and don't lie to me this time. Don't you still desire me? My flesh . . . everything?"
" - I don't even know you!" I said, finishing the sentence I had tried to begin earlier. What was this woman thinking . . . ?
"Oh, playing that again," She said, crossing her arms. "You're the one who doesn't know who you are."
She started crying now. Crying hard. I had killed her puppy in a past life, I must have - she was crying like she meant it. I couldn't process any of this . . . I . . .
"You said we were going to travel the world together," She crooned, her sobs muddying up the words so much that I had to lean in close to hear. I was afraid if I leaned too far she might bite off my head, literally. "but you left me here . . . Why would you do that? Don't you desire me anymore? Don't I arouse you? I still want you. I want you, Iko. Stop treating me like everyone else . . . like all the other people you strand!"
She tossed something at me as she rose from her chair. It hit me in the face, blocking my vision. I pulled it away. She was gone, the front door swinging back and forth.
The object she threw at me was a picture. The picture was of me and her at some party, smiling. The back read, 'Me and Donna at Theatre Opening, 1945'. I wasn't alive in 1945. I had never worn a tux, no matter what this picture said otherwise. And I sure as hell didn't know this woman named Donna.
Settled on his moniker, I kept moving. I couldn't see anything. I kept my eyes down to my feet to make sure I didn't trip. I wasn't going to look up until I saw someone's shoes in my vision. I probably should have been looking at the signs so I could find my way back more easily, but I was an idiot. Always was and always will be. At one point I reached in my pocket to check my map, only to remember again that I had given it away. I shrugged out my frustrations and walked onward. Eventually it did occur to me to return my vision to what was before me. That is when I saw a sign reading BLOCH ST. But there was something else . . . I wasn't exactly sure what. It looked like there was someone there beneath the sign, pointing up at it and staring back at me . . . but, no, it couldn't be. I blinked and noted that it was just moving fog. I turned down BLOCH ST and, a little spooked, kept my head level to look around. I still couldn't see that far but to my right there seemed to be an electricity company. I went over to it. Yes, that's what it was. I saw a door, but it was boarded up. I guessed it was an old company building. I kept alongside it until I got to the next building - a shop of some sort.
P . . . Pa . . . Pastry Shop, is what I read. I knocked on the door.
And something knocked back.
I paused.
"Excuse me, are you open?" I called through the crack of the door. I tried the doorknob then but it didn't budge. In fact, it seemed to be broken. No one answered. Not questioning it, I continued onward. I passed a souvenir shop, but not expecting much, I didn't stop to knock. There was a grassy something in the place of buildings now, past the souvenir shop and to my right, but I ignored it.
I walked and . . . huh? I stared at the mass before me. I wasn't sure, but it looked like train cars stacked on top of each other. Whatever it was, there was no way I was going that way. I returned to that grassy something and discovered that it was actually a courtyard separating a few buildings. Not really wanting a response, I called out,
"Hey!" I didn't get one. And after I gathered some courage, I pressed on with, "I need help!"
The silence was claustrophobic. I stepped closely to the buildings now, hoping to see someone through a glossy window. Unfortunately, most of the windows were barred or blocked out by boards. Some buildings had metal doors obscuring their purpose. It seemed like no one had lived in this town for years. I didn't exactly want to believe that though. I found an alleyway and moved through it. The street sign said I was at . . . Bra . . . Brad-something. When I looked down from the sign, I saw another mound blocking the road. It appeared to be the same thing as before; it was a pile of train cars. What was going on here? I turned around, not sure where to go. Then I saw . . . an open door! The door belonged to a house. I hurried to it and peered inside.
Well, at least the fog didn't obscure anything here. It was the darkness' turn to do that. I hunted for another match to light my way, but I didn't have any. Placing my hand on a wall, I moved forward. I bumped a small table. Something fell - broke. The crash seemed louder than it really was; it was the absence of noise elsewhere that amplified my perception of it here. I reached down and picked something up. It cut me a little, but I knew I would be fine; it was just a vase. I would apologize to whoever owned this house when I saw them. I never did see them though. I found four doors but all of them were locked. There was also a door at the end. It budged after some hassle and it brought me back into the fog. I was frustrated. There was no one in the house. I had never wanted to apologize for a worthless broken object more in my life. It's not like I could have said sorry to the fog.
I just barely discerned a mass to my left. I figured, correctly, that it was the first train mesh I had seen earlier. I went down and found myself next to the second mound that had impeded my path. The sign was hard to read, but I decided that it said BRADBURY ST. If I wanted to, I could have jumped to properly read it. However, I knew that would be ridiculous. I walked only for a moment before I saw yet another mound ahead. But there was nowhere else to go, so I kept on treading. Good thing I did, for there was an alleyway to the left. I didn't realize how oppressive alleyways were. I felt as if the walls would crush me between them if I breathed too wide. I stuck with short breaths. I passed more buildings that I couldn't see . . .
Then I heard shuffling noises.
I stopped. Everything in me stopped. I told myself it was just Darwin walking by. I told myself it was just . . . I told myself . . . short breaths turned to even shorter breaths. Finally, the noise abated. I walked forward and found myself at another street. Thanks to my hobby of cartography, my orientations were pretty good. I knew I was on BLOCH ST again and on the other side of that mound. For a moment, I felt pleased with myself. Then I remembered that I wasn't sure where I was going. I felt uncertainty return, a nagging passenger of the mind. I walked and as I walked, I wondered. Where were the people? Where were the animals? Where was the smell of food, the buzz of passing conversations, the honk of cars? There wasn't going to be another train passing along our route. Guilt crashed within me. I had brought them on that path - I didn't even think to stop and reverse . . . find a new line. I didn't think to call the broken line into headquarters . . . I just went. I went like I always did, with wild abandon to a new track. I had brought them here, and by the looks of it, they would never leave. I was . . . I was at a four-way stop. I pushed my thoughts away and focused on deciding which way to go. To my right I immediately saw another mound but this time I didn't bother to register what it was made of. Two more ways I could go and both of them seemed free of roadblocks. I didn't have a reason why, but I made a left. The sign read BACHMAN RD.
I was no longer interested in the buildings. I didn't expect to find anyone anyway. I was no longer interested in my thoughts. They were too dangerous right now. I was no longer interested in walking, but something caused me to walk anyway. I think it was the constant feeling that someone was just a step behind me. A feeling that if I stopped I would surely die. It was stupid . . . well maybe it wasn't . . . no, it was stupid.
I was passing MATHESON ST now . . . wait. I blinked, but that didn't help me see any better. Still, I was certain of it . . . I moved forward just a little more and saw a light. As I approached it, the light became a sign that said OPEN. I arrived just in time, too, because suddenly the sign gave out and it lit the world no more. I went to the door and, expecting disappointment, tried the knob. The door swung open instead. I closed it once I was inside and turned to face my discovery. It was a burger place, judging by the menu. I walked between the rows of tables. I didn't hear or see anyone else. I was already disheartened. A napkin said that this was a place called QUEEN BURGER. I didn't really care, though. I was alone. I didn't even feel hungry - couldn't remember the last time I had. I sat down near a window just in case someone passed by. I knew no one would and if they did I wouldn't see them through the thick.
Time passed, or at least I think it did. I was in danger of careening back into self-destructive thoughts. I shrugged, opened my mouth - reached for a cigarette I knew wasn't there - to see if I could scare the thoughts away.
Then a shadow moved along the window.
I hopped from my chair and prepared myself for the worse. It was stupid of me, because after a moment I noticed that it was a person walking . . . a person walking . . . a person walking toward the front door of the shop. I sat back down, another strange move on my part, and waited. The door swung open. First a foot, then a hand, an arm - a body . . . a face. A woman had entered. She was staring me down, her face the most alluring object I had ever admired. I couldn't help it when my mouth fell. At least this time it made sense for it to be open. Then I realized something I hadn't realized in her face a moment ago - she was sad. Hurt, even. She strutted over to me, her body a machine of womanly curves and feminine swagger. She sat down.
Then the woman began twiddling with her fingers. It was like she was about to break up with me but she wasn't sure how to do so. I just stared, flabbergasted. She didn't look like she was going to say anything, so I figured I would.
"I'm -"
"I know who you are," She snapped, "Don't you think I would, after all these years?"
Her voice, even in anger, was melodious. I felt pathetic for the sexual fantasies now cultivating in my mind. But I was also alarmed by her words; I had never met this woman in my life. After all these years . . .?
"I - " I began again, but she would have nothing of it. She banged her hands against the table.
" - Don't you love me? Tell me, Iko, please! . . . and don't lie to me this time. Don't you still desire me? My flesh . . . everything?"
" - I don't even know you!" I said, finishing the sentence I had tried to begin earlier. What was this woman thinking . . . ?
"Oh, playing that again," She said, crossing her arms. "You're the one who doesn't know who you are."
She started crying now. Crying hard. I had killed her puppy in a past life, I must have - she was crying like she meant it. I couldn't process any of this . . . I . . .
"You said we were going to travel the world together," She crooned, her sobs muddying up the words so much that I had to lean in close to hear. I was afraid if I leaned too far she might bite off my head, literally. "but you left me here . . . Why would you do that? Don't you desire me anymore? Don't I arouse you? I still want you. I want you, Iko. Stop treating me like everyone else . . . like all the other people you strand!"
She tossed something at me as she rose from her chair. It hit me in the face, blocking my vision. I pulled it away. She was gone, the front door swinging back and forth.
The object she threw at me was a picture. The picture was of me and her at some party, smiling. The back read, 'Me and Donna at Theatre Opening, 1945'. I wasn't alive in 1945. I had never worn a tux, no matter what this picture said otherwise. And I sure as hell didn't know this woman named Donna.
Setting
0.00 INK
He was gone. Thank goodness.
I felt relief flow over me, taking place of the heavy weight on my shoulders. Walking alone in the fog though gave me the chills. I looked around my surroundings, almost frantically, wishing that I could hear at least one noise, one noise other than my breathing, my loud heart-beat. The silence was killing me, the silence was cutting me in half, tearing me apart. Why was there no one here? Why was there no one on the roads, no one emerging from the fog, no footsteps? I depended on human contact, I would go crazy without it.
At that thought, I stopped in my tracks, listening to my own thoughts. Crazy? No, I would never end up like those people. They were...scary. Their minds were messed up, twisted in a way that they would almost never be healed. My mind was fine. I was sane, I was smart, intelligent, above most other regular people. I just had to keep telling myself that. I was better than them.
Absentmindedly, almost as if on instinct or reflex, I reached into my pocket, rummaging through until I found the folded up map that the man had given to me. At least I got something out of him. A good argument, and a map. I guess only one of them really could help me along with my goal. I had always known that arguing was bad, and that I should just stop at the first insult, but I never could. I was never able to even force myself. The only thing I got out of fights was satisfaction, and then, guilt. It was almost like an addiction. It was horrible.
I stared down at the map in my hands. I couldn't read these things to save my life. I always guessed the direction of things, different places. I used a GPS to guide me, I could directions written out for me in words. I wasn't a very visual person. Pictures were like another language for me, a rune. Thoughts ran through my mind. Alright, so...which way was north? I didn't even know if the map was facing the right direction. Some words were sideways. Did the compass show what way the roads were? Yes. But...which way was which? I looked around. I had no clue where was north, where was east or west. I was clueless. It was almost ironic. I chose to learn about the most complicated things, yet couldn't even follow a damn map.
I was frustrated. I began to walk again, my eyes focusing down on the paper, my head spinning with thoughts. Fog covered almost everything. I could only see the gray pavement beneath me, maybe a few steps past that. The only way I figured out that there was another road near me was when I nearly ran into the sign at the corner of the sidewalk I was on. I looked up at it, taking a few steps backwards to get a good view.
"Midwich St."
I looked down at the map for guidance. If I turned right now, and went down...Matheson St., then I could go get a coffee. I snickered to myself. I didn't really like coffee that much, more tea and hot chocolate. Hot chocolate made me feel like a kid. On a more serious note, there was probably someone there. Hopefully...someone there. The place looked deserted. For a moment, I even doubted that there was anyone here, yet reassured myself with better thoughts. As I moved down the street, the map still in my grasp, I took the assigned turn when needed, down the street. I began folding it up, assuming that I wouldn't need it any longer. I looked up, watched the road down at my feet grow out more, stretching in front of me. I was staring at my own feet, my laced up black combat boots on the pavement. Then, I began to slow my pace down. Something felt odd, something didn't feel right. I looked up. The road abruptly ended. It was like someone had torn it in half, ripped the pavement apart, and the ground underneath. I stepped forward cautiously, my foot now on the edge. I stared into the never-ending abyss, filled with fog and darkness. What....the hell? I was more confused then I'd probably ever been in my entire life. I knew I wasn't going that way now. What other possibilities were there?
Well, there was an alleyway. I looked to my left. They were always a great place to be. Rotting garbage, oh so sanitary, and thugs waiting to rob you, beat you to the ground. As enjoyable as it sounded, I really wanted to avoid the place. But I decided that if I went back, I could probably get lost. So, I went down the alleyway. With the map clutched in one hand, I was constantly glancing over my shoulder to look behind me, watch to see if anyone was following. Houses were lined up along either side of me, fences defending rusty old cars, and garages that were either partially opened, or closed up tight with a lock.
I heard footsteps.
I quickly turned my head towards the noise, afraid of someone jumping me for my wallet, which I didn't have right now. I only had the silver watch around my wrist. If I gave only that to the guy, he would surely kill me for not being more wealthy. My heart was hammering in my chest as my light blue eyes scanned along every house behind me, every dark crack where someone could hide themselves, then jump out at an unsuspecting me. Oddly, the noise was almost comforting. There wasn't just this stupid, silent fog covering the whole place like some sort of disease with no cure. There had to be people.
Something rustled further down the alleyway. I turned around again, waiting to see someone rush out at me. But all I saw was a piece of crumpled up paper slowly float down from an open trash-can, to the wall across from it. I froze, my gaze resting on one spot, watching for movement. For a few seconds I stood there, like some sort of dumb-founded idiot. Was it that stupid train conductor, whatever the hell his weird name was, coming to scare me? I crossed that option off. I probably would have heard that clumsy fool coming from a mile away, coughing out a lung or something. The seconds I was waiting there slowly became a minute or two, and I decided that maybe I was just imagining things. It always happened when I was stressed.
I looked down at my wrist, a habit I often did when I was nervous, even if I didn't have a wrist-watch on. I began along the pavement again, listening to the echo of my footsteps, a steady beat, until I heard a quiet meow of a cat from behind me. I jumped, I would have screamed, but felt something preventing me from making any sound at all. Cat had my tongue. I changed into a running pace about as fast as gears shifted on a bike, and bolted down the widest alley I could find, hearing claws scratching along the pavement behind me, strangled hisses. I was running from a cat. I would have felt like a fool, but my fear pretty much took over every other emotion I would have felt in that situation. I didn't know where I was going, I didn't care. I got onto the main road, hearing the animal behind me catching up, it's hisses becoming louder, it's feet padding against the ground. It was going to claw my eyes out, I knew it! Cats hated me, I hated cats.
I took a left, my lungs burning. My damn leg was aching as well. It had been fine for the past few days, but I hadn't been running for my life. Every time I stepped down on it, pain shot up my body, retreating quickly, yet happening once more. It was a vicious cycle. I felt something claw at my ankle. Blood ran down into my black boots. I fell to the ground, loosing my balance, collapsing onto my side.
The hissing stopped. A soon as it had appeared, it was gone. And there was no animal either. I brought my leg towards myself, pulling up part of my pant-leg, revealing three claw marks, fresh with blood, almost exactly the same as the three on my neck. My phone tumbled out of my pocket. I glanced over to it, reaching for it with a blood-covered hand. The screen was on, glowing a bright white. Then, it shut off.
I sat still, fumbling with the electronic in one hand, then slipping it into my pocket. I pulled down the leg of my jeans. I was actually...going crazy. Was I? No. No.
"First few stages of a mental illness. Number one, disbelief.
Number two, denial.
Number three, anger.
Number four, partial or full acceptance towards the illness."
My own voice, the things I had recited so many times, said to so many people, ringed in my mind. I wanted to ignore it, but I couldn't ignore myself. I couldn't ignore my knowledge. I could show no ignorance.
I slowly rose back up to my feet, my hands shaking with fear. The map, where was my map? I looked around frantically, then realized it was lying at my feet. I bent down to pick it up, wincing at the pain in my leg. Where to now? I needed to sit down, calm myself down, rinse out the stress in my system. The cafe. Yes, a good idea. Food. No, I wasn't hungry. Water? I didn't feel thirsty. Comfy seats? I didn't feel tired, but I felt...worn out. Maybe...get a knife or something, just in case I run into another stray animal.
I walked past a few buildings, a Book Store, some Restaurant. I was on Finney St., or at least I thought I was. I didn't want to follow the stupid map, which was now hiding in my pocket. I wanted to find everything myself. I took a random turn right, and hallelujah, I had found my planned out destination. Maybe I was getting better at this. I pushed open the door. The little bell ringed a quiet welcome. I looked up at the place, expecting faces of people and voices rumbling along, like white noise in the background. But there was....nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Of course.
I took a seat in a booth, stretching my arms out in front of the table in front of me, and rested my head on them, closing my eyes, clearing my mind. This place was horrible. Where the hell was I going to find help? There was nothing here. No one, except for the dangers of my own mind. I could be hallucinating. I probably was. I tried to reassure myself of that, yet the horrible hissing sound, and the blood drying on my skin reminded me otherwise. I didn't know what to think.
I felt relief flow over me, taking place of the heavy weight on my shoulders. Walking alone in the fog though gave me the chills. I looked around my surroundings, almost frantically, wishing that I could hear at least one noise, one noise other than my breathing, my loud heart-beat. The silence was killing me, the silence was cutting me in half, tearing me apart. Why was there no one here? Why was there no one on the roads, no one emerging from the fog, no footsteps? I depended on human contact, I would go crazy without it.
At that thought, I stopped in my tracks, listening to my own thoughts. Crazy? No, I would never end up like those people. They were...scary. Their minds were messed up, twisted in a way that they would almost never be healed. My mind was fine. I was sane, I was smart, intelligent, above most other regular people. I just had to keep telling myself that. I was better than them.
Absentmindedly, almost as if on instinct or reflex, I reached into my pocket, rummaging through until I found the folded up map that the man had given to me. At least I got something out of him. A good argument, and a map. I guess only one of them really could help me along with my goal. I had always known that arguing was bad, and that I should just stop at the first insult, but I never could. I was never able to even force myself. The only thing I got out of fights was satisfaction, and then, guilt. It was almost like an addiction. It was horrible.
I stared down at the map in my hands. I couldn't read these things to save my life. I always guessed the direction of things, different places. I used a GPS to guide me, I could directions written out for me in words. I wasn't a very visual person. Pictures were like another language for me, a rune. Thoughts ran through my mind. Alright, so...which way was north? I didn't even know if the map was facing the right direction. Some words were sideways. Did the compass show what way the roads were? Yes. But...which way was which? I looked around. I had no clue where was north, where was east or west. I was clueless. It was almost ironic. I chose to learn about the most complicated things, yet couldn't even follow a damn map.
I was frustrated. I began to walk again, my eyes focusing down on the paper, my head spinning with thoughts. Fog covered almost everything. I could only see the gray pavement beneath me, maybe a few steps past that. The only way I figured out that there was another road near me was when I nearly ran into the sign at the corner of the sidewalk I was on. I looked up at it, taking a few steps backwards to get a good view.
"Midwich St."
I looked down at the map for guidance. If I turned right now, and went down...Matheson St., then I could go get a coffee. I snickered to myself. I didn't really like coffee that much, more tea and hot chocolate. Hot chocolate made me feel like a kid. On a more serious note, there was probably someone there. Hopefully...someone there. The place looked deserted. For a moment, I even doubted that there was anyone here, yet reassured myself with better thoughts. As I moved down the street, the map still in my grasp, I took the assigned turn when needed, down the street. I began folding it up, assuming that I wouldn't need it any longer. I looked up, watched the road down at my feet grow out more, stretching in front of me. I was staring at my own feet, my laced up black combat boots on the pavement. Then, I began to slow my pace down. Something felt odd, something didn't feel right. I looked up. The road abruptly ended. It was like someone had torn it in half, ripped the pavement apart, and the ground underneath. I stepped forward cautiously, my foot now on the edge. I stared into the never-ending abyss, filled with fog and darkness. What....the hell? I was more confused then I'd probably ever been in my entire life. I knew I wasn't going that way now. What other possibilities were there?
Well, there was an alleyway. I looked to my left. They were always a great place to be. Rotting garbage, oh so sanitary, and thugs waiting to rob you, beat you to the ground. As enjoyable as it sounded, I really wanted to avoid the place. But I decided that if I went back, I could probably get lost. So, I went down the alleyway. With the map clutched in one hand, I was constantly glancing over my shoulder to look behind me, watch to see if anyone was following. Houses were lined up along either side of me, fences defending rusty old cars, and garages that were either partially opened, or closed up tight with a lock.
I heard footsteps.
I quickly turned my head towards the noise, afraid of someone jumping me for my wallet, which I didn't have right now. I only had the silver watch around my wrist. If I gave only that to the guy, he would surely kill me for not being more wealthy. My heart was hammering in my chest as my light blue eyes scanned along every house behind me, every dark crack where someone could hide themselves, then jump out at an unsuspecting me. Oddly, the noise was almost comforting. There wasn't just this stupid, silent fog covering the whole place like some sort of disease with no cure. There had to be people.
Something rustled further down the alleyway. I turned around again, waiting to see someone rush out at me. But all I saw was a piece of crumpled up paper slowly float down from an open trash-can, to the wall across from it. I froze, my gaze resting on one spot, watching for movement. For a few seconds I stood there, like some sort of dumb-founded idiot. Was it that stupid train conductor, whatever the hell his weird name was, coming to scare me? I crossed that option off. I probably would have heard that clumsy fool coming from a mile away, coughing out a lung or something. The seconds I was waiting there slowly became a minute or two, and I decided that maybe I was just imagining things. It always happened when I was stressed.
I looked down at my wrist, a habit I often did when I was nervous, even if I didn't have a wrist-watch on. I began along the pavement again, listening to the echo of my footsteps, a steady beat, until I heard a quiet meow of a cat from behind me. I jumped, I would have screamed, but felt something preventing me from making any sound at all. Cat had my tongue. I changed into a running pace about as fast as gears shifted on a bike, and bolted down the widest alley I could find, hearing claws scratching along the pavement behind me, strangled hisses. I was running from a cat. I would have felt like a fool, but my fear pretty much took over every other emotion I would have felt in that situation. I didn't know where I was going, I didn't care. I got onto the main road, hearing the animal behind me catching up, it's hisses becoming louder, it's feet padding against the ground. It was going to claw my eyes out, I knew it! Cats hated me, I hated cats.
I took a left, my lungs burning. My damn leg was aching as well. It had been fine for the past few days, but I hadn't been running for my life. Every time I stepped down on it, pain shot up my body, retreating quickly, yet happening once more. It was a vicious cycle. I felt something claw at my ankle. Blood ran down into my black boots. I fell to the ground, loosing my balance, collapsing onto my side.
The hissing stopped. A soon as it had appeared, it was gone. And there was no animal either. I brought my leg towards myself, pulling up part of my pant-leg, revealing three claw marks, fresh with blood, almost exactly the same as the three on my neck. My phone tumbled out of my pocket. I glanced over to it, reaching for it with a blood-covered hand. The screen was on, glowing a bright white. Then, it shut off.
I sat still, fumbling with the electronic in one hand, then slipping it into my pocket. I pulled down the leg of my jeans. I was actually...going crazy. Was I? No. No.
"First few stages of a mental illness. Number one, disbelief.
Number two, denial.
Number three, anger.
Number four, partial or full acceptance towards the illness."
My own voice, the things I had recited so many times, said to so many people, ringed in my mind. I wanted to ignore it, but I couldn't ignore myself. I couldn't ignore my knowledge. I could show no ignorance.
I slowly rose back up to my feet, my hands shaking with fear. The map, where was my map? I looked around frantically, then realized it was lying at my feet. I bent down to pick it up, wincing at the pain in my leg. Where to now? I needed to sit down, calm myself down, rinse out the stress in my system. The cafe. Yes, a good idea. Food. No, I wasn't hungry. Water? I didn't feel thirsty. Comfy seats? I didn't feel tired, but I felt...worn out. Maybe...get a knife or something, just in case I run into another stray animal.
I walked past a few buildings, a Book Store, some Restaurant. I was on Finney St., or at least I thought I was. I didn't want to follow the stupid map, which was now hiding in my pocket. I wanted to find everything myself. I took a random turn right, and hallelujah, I had found my planned out destination. Maybe I was getting better at this. I pushed open the door. The little bell ringed a quiet welcome. I looked up at the place, expecting faces of people and voices rumbling along, like white noise in the background. But there was....nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Of course.
I took a seat in a booth, stretching my arms out in front of the table in front of me, and rested my head on them, closing my eyes, clearing my mind. This place was horrible. Where the hell was I going to find help? There was nothing here. No one, except for the dangers of my own mind. I could be hallucinating. I probably was. I tried to reassure myself of that, yet the horrible hissing sound, and the blood drying on my skin reminded me otherwise. I didn't know what to think.
Setting
0.00 INK
I open my eyes to just slits, It’s hard to see as I’m practically blinded by the light. I squint, my hands are unable to protect me from these blasted rays. . In the institution I spent most of my time inside rooms with dim light, and a stale smell. Here, it was fresh, brand knew. A bit dreary, but much better than what I’m used to. I begin to get up when I panic, where’s the scalpel?! Am I Bleeding? Is I inside of me? Am I even alive, what if this is like one of those movies, where the main character doesn’t even realize that they’ve died. I realize how stupid I actually sound when I see the small blade on the ground beside me. I think I may have made the worst choice of the century when I decided to pick the weapon back up with my teeth. I start forward.
I have trouble keeping on both my feet, the terrain is rough, and unexpected. But I keep moving forward. I can feel myself actually covering substantial distance, I just keep pushing myself. After about, ten minutes of walking, I start to hear the faint sound of running water in the distance. I keep cautious but slowly move into a clearing. It seems to be what looks like a lake, it’s runs all the way to a reservoir. I’ve always been afraid of drowning my whole life, and I never had learned to swim. So I stay as far away from the place as possible, cleverly manoeuvring around it.
When I was only six I can still remember my own screams, I had been playing in one of the dirties lakes I had ever seen. It was in some summer camp, the kinds that parents send their kids to so they can have a break. The fact that I had been wearing water wings didn’t matter at all. Because the problem was, I had gone too far out and they had began to deflate… I could hear the councillors, telling me that it was going to be alright, that I was going to be saved. At first I felt reassured, but after a minute or so, I began to sink. I flailed my arms, trying to stay above the water, but it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it. I remember the feeling of the murky water enveloping my lungs, I began to choke and panic. I was gasping for air but it just wouldn’t come to me. I thought that I would be dead… Not much I remember after that, I had woken up in the children’s hospital, anything after that was really, all a blur.
My thoughts must have put me in a real daze, because by the time I brought myself back to reality I was facing some sort of school. It looked old, but humble. I really shouldn’t go in there, what If classes are going on? It’s still light out so that’s a possibility, but I really have no way of telling the time anymore… I haven’t been into a school in years, I just had to, I had to go in, my curiosity always got the best of me. It was my master and I was the dog. I begin to open the door when I realized I couldn’t… This fucking jacket is still on me! How did I even forget about it. How?! I’m not sure what to do know, going back would be pointless, besides, I don’t even know where I am. I cross my eyes, looking at the scalpel. Maybe this will work, maybe ill cut my throat, and slowly bleed, a painful death… I tilt my neck down and manage to tear about 6 inches of the jacket, unfortunately the scalpel wont reach any farther and I pull. It hurts so much and I’m really doubting my own strength now, but to my own joy, the jacket begins to tear. It slowly rips, the sounds making me smile. Eventually the whole jacket is lying on the floor and I’m free!
I make my way back to the school, never looking back, I was surprised when I realized that the school was actually unlocked. So much for the safety of the children. I slowly open the main doors, and I’m about halfway through it when I’m interrupted.
“They don’t want you, no one does. You were taken from your old school for a reason, do you thing that these people would want your trailer trash too?”
I’m speechless, what do I say to that. I know that I have to be strong, but it’s hard.
“Your just a jerk! I have never done anything to you! You just show up at the worst times and kill my confidence! Why can’t you be more like Clyde!?”
“Because, Clyde is weak.”
I have trouble keeping on both my feet, the terrain is rough, and unexpected. But I keep moving forward. I can feel myself actually covering substantial distance, I just keep pushing myself. After about, ten minutes of walking, I start to hear the faint sound of running water in the distance. I keep cautious but slowly move into a clearing. It seems to be what looks like a lake, it’s runs all the way to a reservoir. I’ve always been afraid of drowning my whole life, and I never had learned to swim. So I stay as far away from the place as possible, cleverly manoeuvring around it.
When I was only six I can still remember my own screams, I had been playing in one of the dirties lakes I had ever seen. It was in some summer camp, the kinds that parents send their kids to so they can have a break. The fact that I had been wearing water wings didn’t matter at all. Because the problem was, I had gone too far out and they had began to deflate… I could hear the councillors, telling me that it was going to be alright, that I was going to be saved. At first I felt reassured, but after a minute or so, I began to sink. I flailed my arms, trying to stay above the water, but it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it. I remember the feeling of the murky water enveloping my lungs, I began to choke and panic. I was gasping for air but it just wouldn’t come to me. I thought that I would be dead… Not much I remember after that, I had woken up in the children’s hospital, anything after that was really, all a blur.
My thoughts must have put me in a real daze, because by the time I brought myself back to reality I was facing some sort of school. It looked old, but humble. I really shouldn’t go in there, what If classes are going on? It’s still light out so that’s a possibility, but I really have no way of telling the time anymore… I haven’t been into a school in years, I just had to, I had to go in, my curiosity always got the best of me. It was my master and I was the dog. I begin to open the door when I realized I couldn’t… This fucking jacket is still on me! How did I even forget about it. How?! I’m not sure what to do know, going back would be pointless, besides, I don’t even know where I am. I cross my eyes, looking at the scalpel. Maybe this will work, maybe ill cut my throat, and slowly bleed, a painful death… I tilt my neck down and manage to tear about 6 inches of the jacket, unfortunately the scalpel wont reach any farther and I pull. It hurts so much and I’m really doubting my own strength now, but to my own joy, the jacket begins to tear. It slowly rips, the sounds making me smile. Eventually the whole jacket is lying on the floor and I’m free!
I make my way back to the school, never looking back, I was surprised when I realized that the school was actually unlocked. So much for the safety of the children. I slowly open the main doors, and I’m about halfway through it when I’m interrupted.
“They don’t want you, no one does. You were taken from your old school for a reason, do you thing that these people would want your trailer trash too?”
I’m speechless, what do I say to that. I know that I have to be strong, but it’s hard.
“Your just a jerk! I have never done anything to you! You just show up at the worst times and kill my confidence! Why can’t you be more like Clyde!?”
“Because, Clyde is weak.”
Setting
0.00 INK
Me and Donna at Theatre Opening, 1945 . . .
I turned the photo over for the twenty-seventh time. I was still there. I was still there standing next to this woman named Donna. Donna . . . the shock had prevented me from realizing the obvious before; Donna was my train's name, too. For a moment, I wondered if I had named the train after her. No - that wasn't right. Then I remembered why I had called it by that name. It was that dumb railroad tune. I've been working on the railroad. At the time that I had named the train, I had thought the woman in the song was named Donna. I would only find out much later that her name was Dinah, but I had already grown close to the name so it stuck.
Why was that woman so emotional anyhow? Oh, right . . . she said I had left her and that I had left so many others. Well, she was at least right about that; I always left. But how could she have known that I abandoned people? Abandoned them . . . sigh. Maybe it was time to admit that to myself. I moved the photo closer to my eye and examined it again. I had expected to see some evidence that the picture had been manipulated. I wasn't sure what to look for, though. I doubted that I'd be able to find it even if it was there. It seemed real enough to me. And anyway, I kind of liked the idea of being married to this woman, crazy or not. She was so . . . I began this thought, but then my eyes saw something in the photo. The banner above our heads said Silent Hill's Metropol Theatre. This photo had been taken in Silent Hill. In 1945, if the writing on the back was to be believed. Wait . . . supposedly I wrote this, my mind reminded me. I turned over the photo and analyzed the penmanship. My idea of analyzing was to scratch the scribbles to determine if they were pencil or pen (it was pen) and stick it really close to my eye. But I had forgotten what my own hand-writing looked like somehow. I grabbed a napkin to write with but I didn't have a pen. I got up and went to the ordering counter. There was a pen there for signing checks and the like.
"Me and Donna at Theatre Opening, 1945." I said aloud as I wrote it on the napkin.
It was the same handwriting. I had wrote this note.
I pointed at the photo as if to accuse it of lying to me. My mouth was open again. A fly flitted about it and for a moment I was in danger of being invaded. I smacked it dead upon the counter and I turned to leave. I was going to investigate Metropol theatre . . . maybe there, somehow, I could prove this photo false. I wasn't sure how I would, but I exited Queen Burger anyway. I went back onto Bachman, but I remembered I didn't have a map - I had no idea where this place was! As I passed a cafe, I saw a figure in there. I rushed to the window, my brain alive with hope. That hope died a quick death when I realized who it was. Darwin. I returned myself to the street, not sure if he had seen me or not. I didn't want to deal with him again this soon, especially not after my encounter with Donna. I cursed myself and went back around to Matheson, passing Queen Burger. I wasn't sure why I was going this way, but it felt right.
This fog was overwhelming me; I felt violated by its pale hands. I had used to like the fog, but now I was pretty sure I never wanted to see it again. There were more shops, or shop-like shapes, but for some reason I didn't stop and check what sort of building they were. My feet were determined to lead me somewhere. I didn't exactly fight it, my mind somewhat in a daze from all this fog and from all this conflicting information. I wondered, without even realizing it, if my body had remembered something my mind hadn't. The street sign I met at the end of this road said Ellroy. What a stupid name, I thought, not exactly laughing. My feet wanted to go left, but I was a bit tired of listening to my stinky appendages anyway. I went right. I fell immediately, my head landing on something hard and metallic. It was a wonder I didn't pass out from it. My head pulsated anguish and it was hot. I raised my arm, now sore, to my forehead. I didn't need to check it; I could already smell the blood. I wiped it on my pants as I rose. I winced . . . my right ankle . . . I think I broke it, my mind said to me. I sat down and examined my foot. No, I was just a sniveling baby . . . it was fine. It was only sore like the rest of me. Then I saw what I had tripped over - a train door. But where was the train . . . ? My neck titled upward, for I was now extremely aware of what I had fallen into. A mound of precariously stacked trains. They shook above me - I was certain that I would crushed. Only they didn't, and I felt like an idiot for not moving. I got up, shrugging as was the habit, and I continued on, my feet resolute in leading the way. After a moment of walking down Ellroy - close to water by the smell of it - I heard something strange . . .
My communication radio was emitting static.
I took it off its holster and I listened to it. Was it someone from headquarters?
"Someone's . . . in . . . with Don . . ." is what I could hear. I shut my eyes and pressed my ear close. "Someone's . . . kitchen . . . I know . . ."
The static stopped. Silence. I tried calling something in, to see if maybe it would work . . .
"Blue ranger to green, blue ranger to green, big giant monster in the streets . . ."
. . . but I was talking to myself. If only I could remember the actual words for this procedure . . . maybe that would work? I doubted it at this point.
I turned the photo over for the twenty-seventh time. I was still there. I was still there standing next to this woman named Donna. Donna . . . the shock had prevented me from realizing the obvious before; Donna was my train's name, too. For a moment, I wondered if I had named the train after her. No - that wasn't right. Then I remembered why I had called it by that name. It was that dumb railroad tune. I've been working on the railroad. At the time that I had named the train, I had thought the woman in the song was named Donna. I would only find out much later that her name was Dinah, but I had already grown close to the name so it stuck.
Why was that woman so emotional anyhow? Oh, right . . . she said I had left her and that I had left so many others. Well, she was at least right about that; I always left. But how could she have known that I abandoned people? Abandoned them . . . sigh. Maybe it was time to admit that to myself. I moved the photo closer to my eye and examined it again. I had expected to see some evidence that the picture had been manipulated. I wasn't sure what to look for, though. I doubted that I'd be able to find it even if it was there. It seemed real enough to me. And anyway, I kind of liked the idea of being married to this woman, crazy or not. She was so . . . I began this thought, but then my eyes saw something in the photo. The banner above our heads said Silent Hill's Metropol Theatre. This photo had been taken in Silent Hill. In 1945, if the writing on the back was to be believed. Wait . . . supposedly I wrote this, my mind reminded me. I turned over the photo and analyzed the penmanship. My idea of analyzing was to scratch the scribbles to determine if they were pencil or pen (it was pen) and stick it really close to my eye. But I had forgotten what my own hand-writing looked like somehow. I grabbed a napkin to write with but I didn't have a pen. I got up and went to the ordering counter. There was a pen there for signing checks and the like.
"Me and Donna at Theatre Opening, 1945." I said aloud as I wrote it on the napkin.
It was the same handwriting. I had wrote this note.
I pointed at the photo as if to accuse it of lying to me. My mouth was open again. A fly flitted about it and for a moment I was in danger of being invaded. I smacked it dead upon the counter and I turned to leave. I was going to investigate Metropol theatre . . . maybe there, somehow, I could prove this photo false. I wasn't sure how I would, but I exited Queen Burger anyway. I went back onto Bachman, but I remembered I didn't have a map - I had no idea where this place was! As I passed a cafe, I saw a figure in there. I rushed to the window, my brain alive with hope. That hope died a quick death when I realized who it was. Darwin. I returned myself to the street, not sure if he had seen me or not. I didn't want to deal with him again this soon, especially not after my encounter with Donna. I cursed myself and went back around to Matheson, passing Queen Burger. I wasn't sure why I was going this way, but it felt right.
This fog was overwhelming me; I felt violated by its pale hands. I had used to like the fog, but now I was pretty sure I never wanted to see it again. There were more shops, or shop-like shapes, but for some reason I didn't stop and check what sort of building they were. My feet were determined to lead me somewhere. I didn't exactly fight it, my mind somewhat in a daze from all this fog and from all this conflicting information. I wondered, without even realizing it, if my body had remembered something my mind hadn't. The street sign I met at the end of this road said Ellroy. What a stupid name, I thought, not exactly laughing. My feet wanted to go left, but I was a bit tired of listening to my stinky appendages anyway. I went right. I fell immediately, my head landing on something hard and metallic. It was a wonder I didn't pass out from it. My head pulsated anguish and it was hot. I raised my arm, now sore, to my forehead. I didn't need to check it; I could already smell the blood. I wiped it on my pants as I rose. I winced . . . my right ankle . . . I think I broke it, my mind said to me. I sat down and examined my foot. No, I was just a sniveling baby . . . it was fine. It was only sore like the rest of me. Then I saw what I had tripped over - a train door. But where was the train . . . ? My neck titled upward, for I was now extremely aware of what I had fallen into. A mound of precariously stacked trains. They shook above me - I was certain that I would crushed. Only they didn't, and I felt like an idiot for not moving. I got up, shrugging as was the habit, and I continued on, my feet resolute in leading the way. After a moment of walking down Ellroy - close to water by the smell of it - I heard something strange . . .
My communication radio was emitting static.
I took it off its holster and I listened to it. Was it someone from headquarters?
"Someone's . . . in . . . with Don . . ." is what I could hear. I shut my eyes and pressed my ear close. "Someone's . . . kitchen . . . I know . . ."
The static stopped. Silence. I tried calling something in, to see if maybe it would work . . .
"Blue ranger to green, blue ranger to green, big giant monster in the streets . . ."
. . . but I was talking to myself. If only I could remember the actual words for this procedure . . . maybe that would work? I doubted it at this point.
- 16 posts here • Page 1 of 1
View All »Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.
There are no arcs in this roleplay.
View All » Create New » Quests
There are no quests in this roleplay.
Add Group » View All » 0 Factions to align with
Here's the current leaderboard.
There are no groups in this roleplay!
Game Master Controls
Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.
Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.
Add Quest » Quests
You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.
Add Setting » 1 Settings for your players to play in
Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.
Navigation
While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!
Add Group » 0 Factions to align with
There are no groups in this roleplay!
Collectibles
By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.
Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.
Mobs
Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!
Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
Current Mobs
No mobs have been created yet.
Spawns
Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
Events
You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Silent Hill: Asylum. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
Notable Items
No items have been created yet!
The Market
Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
Market DataMarket conditions are Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale) |
Open Stores
View All » Add Character » 4 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Iko Brennan
A train conductor with a strange first name.
Silver Sterling
"I can feel the malice coursing through my veins".
Derek McKenzie
An employee, who still strives for more entertainment in his life.
Trending
Silver Sterling
"I can feel the malice coursing through my veins".
Derek McKenzie
An employee, who still strives for more entertainment in his life.
Iko Brennan
A train conductor with a strange first name.
Most Followed
Iko Brennan
A train conductor with a strange first name.
Derek McKenzie
An employee, who still strives for more entertainment in his life.
Silver Sterling
"I can feel the malice coursing through my veins".
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Silent Hill: Asylum: Out of Character
Discussions
-
- Topics
- Replies
- Views
- Last post
-
-
Silent Hill: Asylum
1 ... 4, 5, 6by Spiral Thoughts on Sat Nov 12, 2011 7:01 pm
- 102 Replies
- 3976 Views
- Last post by Spiral Thoughts
on Wed Jan 04, 2012 1:54 pm
-
Silent Hill: Asylum
Most recent OOC posts in Silent Hill: Asylum
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Thadine!!!!
Miss Muffin, you have permission to do with Thadine what you will. >:[
Death to all who oppose me!
Miss Muffin, you have permission to do with Thadine what you will. >:[
Death to all who oppose me!
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
If you had said anything else I would have killed you myself but I cannot deny you a sojourn into the games of Silent Hill!I am so proud of you for playing them - I absolutely adore Silent Hill 2 but my disc for Silent Hill 3 died on me before I could finish it.
That scene with James looking into the mirror? Iconic. The lock screen on my iTouch is a picture of one of the most famous quotes from there: "There was a HOLE here. It's gone now."
You better post before New Years. I really miss this RP. . . I really miss the two of you! Don't expect me to be so lenient next time. ;)
That scene with James looking into the mirror? Iconic. The lock screen on my iTouch is a picture of one of the most famous quotes from there: "There was a HOLE here. It's gone now."
You better post before New Years. I really miss this RP. . . I really miss the two of you! Don't expect me to be so lenient next time. ;)
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Yes, I do. I didn't get a Christmas break until the Friday before Christmas, and well...for Christmas I got...um...Silent Hill 2 and 3.
THEY'RE AMAZING! I finished them both, and...well, I really like James. I think it's just because we both often said the same thing at the same time. I mean, like, I would be thinking something and his character would go and say it. Yeaaahhh....
I'LL POST BEFORE NEW YEARS! First I must finish a drawing of James looking into a mirror...(obsessed much?) XD
THEY'RE AMAZING! I finished them both, and...well, I really like James. I think it's just because we both often said the same thing at the same time. I mean, like, I would be thinking something and his character would go and say it. Yeaaahhh....
I'LL POST BEFORE NEW YEARS! First I must finish a drawing of James looking into a mirror...(obsessed much?) XD
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Thadine, I wouldn't recommend breaking promises to people. James promised he would take Mary to Silent Hill again one day, but he never did. You promised you would post in Silent hill again one day, but you never did.
I imagine you have good reasoning behind this?
I imagine you have good reasoning behind this?
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
:D I am looking forward to that post, Thadine~~~~
:D :D :D
:D :D :D
Did you finish your mask by the way?
:D :D :D
:D :D :D
Did you finish your mask by the way?
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
@_@ I know. . .I can survive until, then. . .I think. =] YOU TWO ARE VERY MUCH LOVED.
EDIT: It's the 19th! :D :D :D :D
EDIT: It's the 19th! :D :D :D :D
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
XDD
I'm still here, and Megan is too. But come the 19th, I SHALL post. xDD
I promise! You don't have to miss the roleplay, because it is still very much here.
I'm still here, and Megan is too. But come the 19th, I SHALL post. xDD
I promise! You don't have to miss the roleplay, because it is still very much here.
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
I didn't know you were a girl, no. I presumed you were a male. The name "Thadine" seemed masculine to me, although looking it up now, I see it is in fact a female given name . . .
silly me.
I don't drive yet and I am 21. I want to ride a bike or walk . . . that is why I intend to eventually live in a city/town where I can do that. Of course, I'd prefer to live outside a city. Cars are ebil . . . yeah I said it! Although I did take a driving lesson from a good friend of mine and it was exciting . . . I was yelling at no one (it was an empty parking lot) "WATCH OUT, I'm ON MY WAY!" and things like, "LET'S CRASH, WOO HOO!" looking back on it, I probably scared my friends . . . I was having conversations with myself and the car and imaginary people. O.o; Also when I found my friend's fake glasses, I put them on and started talking like a mad scientist . . .
. . . yeah.
Also, DUST is delicious! PFFT.
YEAH, YOU BEST READY YOURSELF FOR THE DAY. Come the 19th, I expect to see a post. OTHERWISE, YOU DIE. YEAH. HARSH BEAST.
silly me.
I don't drive yet and I am 21. I want to ride a bike or walk . . . that is why I intend to eventually live in a city/town where I can do that. Of course, I'd prefer to live outside a city. Cars are ebil . . . yeah I said it! Although I did take a driving lesson from a good friend of mine and it was exciting . . . I was yelling at no one (it was an empty parking lot) "WATCH OUT, I'm ON MY WAY!" and things like, "LET'S CRASH, WOO HOO!" looking back on it, I probably scared my friends . . . I was having conversations with myself and the car and imaginary people. O.o; Also when I found my friend's fake glasses, I put them on and started talking like a mad scientist . . .
. . . yeah.
Also, DUST is delicious! PFFT.
YEAH, YOU BEST READY YOURSELF FOR THE DAY. Come the 19th, I expect to see a post. OTHERWISE, YOU DIE. YEAH. HARSH BEAST.
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
What do you mean Thadine is a....???
xDD
You didn't know I was a girl? /gasp/
I actually DON'T want to drive yet. So no, I won't eat her dust. >:D
I shall ready myself for the day.
=P
xDD
You didn't know I was a girl? /gasp/
I actually DON'T want to drive yet. So no, I won't eat her dust. >:D
I shall ready myself for the day.
=P
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Yeah, EAT HER DUST . . . wait. THADINE IS A . . . Yeah, I knew that all along. *cough*
Ha ha ha, you're not too young. You're both at the age that you're at, much as I am, also . . . as you two demonstrate, age does not prevent one from having skill. ;)
YEAH!!! I LOVE SILENT HILL!!! December 19th is going to be aweeeeeeeeeeessssssooooooooommmmmeeee! :D :D :D :D
>.>;
<.<;
. . .
I'm enthusiastic.
Ha ha ha, you're not too young. You're both at the age that you're at, much as I am, also . . . as you two demonstrate, age does not prevent one from having skill. ;)
YEAH!!! I LOVE SILENT HILL!!! December 19th is going to be aweeeeeeeeeeessssssooooooooommmmmeeee! :D :D :D :D
>.>;
<.<;
. . .
I'm enthusiastic.
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Ha ha, yeah I'm grade 9 also, don't worry, the mask will for sure be done by then if not sooner! Hmm, now I feel all too young. But Morgan, you can eat my dust cause I went driving again! >:D Err, and this roleplay wont die, I love Silent Hill way too much. :)
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
You are in grade 9? Miss Muffin, too? Colour me impressed.
Yes, I am a college student. I am an English major (no surprise there). My true intentions are to author fiction novels, though.
Ah, a nurse mask? How magnificent. Let's take an official break, then, until December 19th. My finals will be done then and, I trust, your nurse mask, too.
Yes, I am a college student. I am an English major (no surprise there). My true intentions are to author fiction novels, though.
Ah, a nurse mask? How magnificent. Let's take an official break, then, until December 19th. My finals will be done then and, I trust, your nurse mask, too.
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
IT WON'T DIE. D:
If this died, I would..um...I don't know.
I'm actually working on a Silent Hill Nurse mask for...an expo soon, so that is the reason for my absence.
And holy crap, you're in college? I'm in grade 9. xDD
If this died, I would..um...I don't know.
I'm actually working on a Silent Hill Nurse mask for...an expo soon, so that is the reason for my absence.
And holy crap, you're in college? I'm in grade 9. xDD
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
It's college - I don't know how it works up there.
What I do know is that down here, laziness is punishable . . . BY DEATH. >:[
Pyramid Head will be visiting you within the hour.
Edit: Me and Miss Muffin could post instead of you if you need time? I don't want this rp to die =[
What I do know is that down here, laziness is punishable . . . BY DEATH. >:[
Pyramid Head will be visiting you within the hour.
Edit: Me and Miss Muffin could post instead of you if you need time? I don't want this rp to die =[
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Finals?
XD
I'm not in high-school...or...whatever it is that finals are in.
Um, I'm just being lazy.
I'll post soon!!
XD
I'm not in high-school...or...whatever it is that finals are in.
Um, I'm just being lazy.
I'll post soon!!
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Do you both have finals as well? This sudden disappearance has me worried. D:
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Yeah l don't like warm weather at all. It is too sunny and happy and hot.
I want to go to the school but I have to slowly take Iko there because that is not what immediately comes to his mind to head toward. It's more Silent Hill-esque if he finds something that makes him go there. But who knows, Iko might want to do something else entirely; I'll let him decide.
EDIT: ;) Hello, Thadine. In my restless dreams, I see that post . . . Derek McKenzie's. You promised you would post someday, but you never did . . . ha ha ha, obviously if you have more important things to do then don't worry about it. I have a lot of homework to catch up on myself - I shouldn't be on here! OK bye bye!
I want to go to the school but I have to slowly take Iko there because that is not what immediately comes to his mind to head toward. It's more Silent Hill-esque if he finds something that makes him go there. But who knows, Iko might want to do something else entirely; I'll let him decide.
EDIT: ;) Hello, Thadine. In my restless dreams, I see that post . . . Derek McKenzie's. You promised you would post someday, but you never did . . . ha ha ha, obviously if you have more important things to do then don't worry about it. I have a lot of homework to catch up on myself - I shouldn't be on here! OK bye bye!
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
Alright.
I shall post soon. I'll probably have Derek encounter the cat again, just to freak him out. xD
Then maybe he'll start heading towards the school, just because he knows that the teachers there /must/ have a bit of information about the town's history.
He's too curious for his own good. xD
I kind of like where I live, despite...Muffin not liking the place. Ha ha. I don't like warm weather that much.
I shall post soon. I'll probably have Derek encounter the cat again, just to freak him out. xD
Then maybe he'll start heading towards the school, just because he knows that the teachers there /must/ have a bit of information about the town's history.
He's too curious for his own good. xD
I kind of like where I live, despite...Muffin not liking the place. Ha ha. I don't like warm weather that much.
Re: [OOC] Silent Hill: Asylum
It sounds perfect to me! :D :D :D :D
I POSTED! Your turn, THADINE. NOW. GO FORTH.
So we're clear, the static wasn't a monster. This time. I felt it would be too soon for that . . . and I had so much more planned for my post, but then I realized I could do it in my next one. It was already pretty long. And also I wanted to spread out my Donna experiences a little.
MAN I AM HAVING TOO MUCH FUN!!!
I POSTED! Your turn, THADINE. NOW. GO FORTH.
So we're clear, the static wasn't a monster. This time. I felt it would be too soon for that . . . and I had so much more planned for my post, but then I realized I could do it in my next one. It was already pretty long. And also I wanted to spread out my Donna experiences a little.
MAN I AM HAVING TOO MUCH FUN!!!