|
Post by Nora on Jun 10, 2020 23:47:14 GMT
I woke up and rubbed my eyes, but the world still seemed blurry for a few minutes. Blurry, yes, but not dark—the sun was coming up. It was morning. Goddamnit, it was morning. Had I slept all night, or…? Or what, Cole? Hah! What a man! Lydia’s finally my girl (her voice was her voice, yes, but by God she was a pretty little thing) and the moment I’m going to take her to the Competitions I, what, pass out? Speaking of which, why on earth had I passed out? And where was Lyd? With Mark, no doubt. With Mark… And where was I? I tried to uncrick my neck—ouch—and then look behind me. That’s where the Competition Stadium was, so, OK, I’m… “Y’see grass and think it’s a bed, do ya?” The voice belonged to an old lady on a porch—and I’m on the lawn of a house, that’s it, with an old porch and a mailbox reading “Dawson” and a ramshackle garage—and I was about to make some excuse when I saw the rifle in her hand. Pointed, unsurprisingly, at me. “Go ahead, y’young idiot, just try to come up with an excuse. I bet I know, I bet I know. Drunk after the Competitions, y’are? Heh? Think you can sleep on my lawn? Piss on my lawn? That’s wha…” By this point she’d gotten a good look at me, and her eyes grew the size of saucers. She put down the gun for a half-second—in, what, disbelief?—and then almost immediately pointed it at me again. “You’re him!” she screamed, as if to wake up the neighborhood. “Someone call the police! Someone call the police!” I said, “Ma’am, I’m very sorry I was on your lawn, I didn’t mean to… Really, I didn’t even go to the competitions, something—honestly, I don’t know what happened, but maybe the police would be a good idea…” “Y’bet yer life it is.” Then, to someone inside: “Sam, get over here,” which got a response of “what the hell d’ya want, Judy?” She turned back to me. “Y’ain’t leavin’ my sight. Y’try anything funny, this is aimed at your head.” I almost laughed. “Ma’am, I don’t even know what’s going on. I was here last night with a girl I know, Lydia Dun, and…” “Hah! And you were going to see Mark Reddy, yes, yes. The whole goddam world knows, y’young idiot. Just ’cause you were sweet on his girl didn’t mean y’had t’kill him—and with a nail through the head, my God!” I instinctively looked at my hands. No blood there, phew, what a relief. I raised them and followed the gesture with a gentle request -"Ma'am, please stop pointing the gun at me, I think you have me confused with someone, I didnt kill anyone!". I was on my way to try get up from the ground when I noticed a circle of bodies now formed around the two of us with multiple people pointing their phones at me, recording what was going on and I felt it was best to announce what I was about to do. - "Ma'am I will slowly get up now"- I used my calm soothing voice, the one that used to work on my cat whenever it was balancing on the window. New voice abruptly interrupted my actions."Stay down! Keep your hands up and stay the fuck down. This is the police". I turned my head toward the voice and saw two angry looking cops pointing their guns at me. I stopped moving. - "Officer, I do not have a gun and I have not killed anyone"- I stated clearly, still in my cat voice, just slightly less calm than before. My next thought was "Thank God I am white.
|
|
|
Post by Chalice_Of_Evil on Jun 11, 2020 0:43:54 GMT
I woke up and rubbed my eyes, but the world still seemed blurry for a few minutes. Blurry, yes, but not dark—the sun was coming up. It was morning. Goddamnit, it was morning. Had I slept all night, or…? Or what, Cole? Hah! What a man! Lydia’s finally my girl (her voice was her voice, yes, but by God she was a pretty little thing) and the moment I’m going to take her to the Competitions I, what, pass out? Speaking of which, why on earth had I passed out? And where was Lyd? With Mark, no doubt. With Mark… And where was I? I tried to uncrick my neck—ouch—and then look behind me. That’s where the Competition Stadium was, so, OK, I’m… “Y’see grass and think it’s a bed, do ya?” The voice belonged to an old lady on a porch—and I’m on the lawn of a house, that’s it, with an old porch and a mailbox reading “Dawson” and a ramshackle garage—and I was about to make some excuse when I saw the rifle in her hand. Pointed, unsurprisingly, at me. “Go ahead, y’young idiot, just try to come up with an excuse. I bet I know, I bet I know. Drunk after the Competitions, y’are? Heh? Think you can sleep on my lawn? Piss on my lawn? That’s wha…” By this point she’d gotten a good look at me, and her eyes grew the size of saucers. She put down the gun for a half-second—in, what, disbelief?—and then almost immediately pointed it at me again. “You’re him!” she screamed, as if to wake up the neighborhood. “Someone call the police! Someone call the police!” I said, “Ma’am, I’m very sorry I was on your lawn, I didn’t mean to… Really, I didn’t even go to the competitions, something—honestly, I don’t know what happened, but maybe the police would be a good idea…” “Y’bet yer life it is.” Then, to someone inside: “Sam, get over here,” which got a response of “what the hell d’ya want, Judy?” She turned back to me. “Y’ain’t leavin’ my sight. Y’try anything funny, this is aimed at your head.” I almost laughed. “Ma’am, I don’t even know what’s going on. I was here last night with a girl I know, Lydia Dun, and…” “Hah! And you were going to see Mark Reddy, yes, yes. The whole goddam world knows, y’young idiot. Just ’cause you were sweet on his girl didn’t mean y’had t’kill him—and with a nail through the head, my God!” I instinctively looked at my hands. No blood there, phew, what a relief. I raised them and followed the gesture with a gentle request -"Ma'am, please stop pointing the gun at me, I think you have me confused with someone, I didnt kill anyone!". I was on my way to try get up from the ground when I noticed a circle of bodies now formed around the two of us with multiple people pointing their phones at me, recording what was going on and I felt it was best to announce what I was about to do. - "Ma'am I will slowly get up now"- I used my calm soothing voice, the one that used to work on my cat whenever it was balancing on the window. New voice abruptly interrupted my actions."Stay down! Keep your hands up and stay the fuck down. This is the police". I turned my head toward the voice and saw two angry looking cops pointing their guns at me. I stopped moving. - "Officer, I do not have a gun and I have not killed anyone"- I stated clearly, still in my cat voice, just slightly less calm than before. My next thought was "Thank God I am white. As my thoughts swirled around in my head, I started to feel dizzy. There were flashes of memory from when I'd visited Mark. Why oh why did I bring that nail gun with me? That was just asking for trouble. Kelly and Marcella had been there too. Where were they now? Oh no...were they dead too? "Officers..." I said in my calm cat voice, "Marcy and Kelly...are they alright?". "We have Marcella Reddy and Kelly Slade down at the station for questioning." said the redheaded female police officer. She seemed nicer than the blonde male officer who told me to 'stay the fuck down', so I guess that made her the 'good cop'. The old lady, Judy, addressed the two young cops, hollering out, "That's 'im!" as she pointed her gun at me accusingly (why hadn't they told her to put her gun down? She was armed with an actual weapon, whereas I didn't have anything), "I tell ya, it's 'im who did it! Yer gonna arrest him, ain't ya?". "Ma'am, please calm down and surrender your weapon to Officer Pitts here." the redheaded cop instructed the trigger-happy old lady as the blonde cop slowly approached her with caution. As if to cement my opinion of him being the 'bad cop' of the pair, he whipped his head around and pointed a finger at me. "You stay right there, dirtbag! Don't move a muscle!" he unnecessarily shouted at me. The nice lady officer just rolled her eyes at her partner's over-the-topness and told him, "Easy, Pitts. Take it down a notch, would ya?". I liked her already. "Thank you Miss...?" I started to say, but she cut me off with "That's Officer McKavanagh to you." and I quickly realised that perhaps she wasn't so 'nice' after all.
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 11, 2020 4:10:20 GMT
So there I was, locked in this cold grey cell. Alone, thank God. I looked around. I counted another 5 cells, all empty. That seemed weird. I also couldn’t hear anything.
I tried to think, what was I doing with that stupid nail gun, who did I think I was. Mark’s a bit of an ass, sure, but come on. I remembered going over to see him. I remember the dumb competition, the lights. Something else, Lydia had whispered something in my ear.
Still quiet. “Hey! Anyone!” I shout.
|
|
|
Post by Nora on Jun 13, 2020 18:38:49 GMT
So there I was, locked in this cold grey cell. Alone, thank God. I looked around. I counted another 5 cells, all empty. That seemed weird. I also couldn’t hear anything. I tried to think, what was I doing with that stupid nail gun, who did I think I was. Mark’s a bit of an ass, sure, but come on. I remembered going over to see him. I remember the dumb competition, the lights. Something else, Lydia had whispered something in my ear. Still quiet. “Hey! Anyone!” I shout. Sound of silence. I try again. Same result. I look around to see if there is a camera I can wave at, and signal that I need to talk to someone. No such thing in sight. I close my eyes for a bit and try to listen for any unusual sounds, but instead I notice how odd it is that I don't hear anything at all. In spite of seeing a window not too far away. I mean this is New York City after all, I should be hearing the city, the ever present sounds of EMTs and Police sirens, the cars, the people, the street music, honking, or something, I should hear SOMETHING. But all there is, is this deafening silence interrupted only by my own breathing, now getting rapidly faster.
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 15, 2020 3:02:45 GMT
Anyone else interested in contributing? I'm happy to continue, but I think it would be good to get at least 3 or 4 regular contributors. Nalkarj , Chalice_Of_Evil , anyone else I'll post again in 24 hours if no one else has
|
|
|
Post by Chalice_Of_Evil on Jun 15, 2020 6:14:01 GMT
Anyone else interested in contributing? I'm happy to continue, but I think it would be good to get at least 3 or 4 regular contributors. Nalkarj , Chalice_Of_Evil , anyone else I'll post again in 24 hours if no one else has Sorry for the wait. It just took me a while to think of anything to add. I hope you don't mind. So there I was, locked in this cold grey cell. Alone, thank God. I looked around. I counted another 5 cells, all empty. That seemed weird. I also couldn’t hear anything. I tried to think, what was I doing with that stupid nail gun, who did I think I was. Mark’s a bit of an ass, sure, but come on. I remembered going over to see him. I remember the dumb competition, the lights. Something else, Lydia had whispered something in my ear. Still quiet. “Hey! Anyone!” I shout. Sound of silence. I try again. Same result. I look around to see if there is a camera I can wave at, and signal that I need to talk to someone. No such thing in sight. I close my eyes for a bit and try to listen for any unusual sounds, but instead I notice how odd it is that I don't hear anything at all. In spite of seeing a window not too far away. I mean this is New York City after all, I should be hearing the city, the ever present sounds of EMTs and Police sirens, the cars, the people, the street music, honking, or something, I should hear SOMETHING. But all there is, is this deafening silence interrupted only by my own breathing, now getting rapidly faster. “Well, it’s just been a crappy 24 hours for you, hasn’t it?” I heard a familiar voice ask in a tone that knew full well it had indeed been a crappy day for me. “Of course, not nearly as crappy as my day's been.” added the voice which belonged to a figure shrouded in shadow, sitting in the corner of my cell, who then leaned forward to reveal themselves. “Mark?” I uttered in disbelief. “That’s right. It’s me, your ‘friend’ who you turned into a human coat rack!” he shouted, indicating the nail sticking out of the bloody hole in his forehead, “Things haven’t really improved for me either, you know...other than the fact that I now have a handy place to hang my keys.” “Are you really here?” I asked, shaking my head, closing my eyes and then opening them again to see that Mark hadn’t vanished like I'd hoped he would. “Maybe I am. Maybe this was all just an elaborate ruse to set you up for my fake murder and this nail sticking out of a bloody hole in my head is just a prosthetic with a bit o’ corn syrup. As you know, Marcella works as a makeup artist on movies. Or maybe I’m not really here and I'm just a figment of your imagination. Your guilty conscience has conjured me up to mentally torture you as payback for offing me. Who knows?” Mark said cryptically, throwing his hands up in the air.
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 15, 2020 6:19:41 GMT
Anyone else interested in contributing? I'm happy to continue, but I think it would be good to get at least 3 or 4 regular contributors. Nalkarj , Chalice_Of_Evil , anyone else I'll post again in 24 hours if no one else has Sorry for the wait. It just took me a while to think of anything to add. I hope you don't mind No Problem.
|
|
|
Post by Nora on Jun 15, 2020 17:48:29 GMT
loving where its going, it feels very Fincheriesque so to speak…. mmm…
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 16, 2020 2:05:33 GMT
loving where its going, it feels very Fincheriesque so to speak…. mmm… Yep, if everyone's cool, I'll post the next entry in an hour or two.
|
|
|
Post by Nora on Jun 16, 2020 2:21:25 GMT
loving where its going, it feels very Fincheriesque so to speak…. mmm… Yep, if everyone's cool, I'll post the next entry in an hour or two. yeah go for it, i was considering all the options we have now and have not settled on a particular one i like the best yet, so it will be interesting to see what you bring forward ![:)](//storage.proboards.com/forum/images/smiley/smiley.png) and then I will follow up tomorrow.
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 16, 2020 3:31:58 GMT
I stared him down and smirked. “Let’s see”, I walked over, reached out and pulled the nail from his head. He gulped, then slouched down against the wall. A black liquid started to slowly leak out of the tiny hole left in his head, then more. It then started gushing. I leant down to feel it, it was a thick goo, and it started to engulf me. I remembered when I had passed out earlier and felt the blackness, the same thing. I was pulled under, the thick black ink surrounded me. I slowly fell. When I finally landed, the substance slinked away and was left in a completely white void. Nothing at all. Not even a fucking chair to sit on. I looked around, nothing as far as I could see in every direction. Then I remembered what Lydia had said, “It’s happening”. I looked to the distance again, a tiny black dot.
* We need a title as well
Off the cuff working title, in honor of Brit post-punk legends The Fall
"Mark'll Sink Us"
|
|
|
Post by Nora on Jun 16, 2020 20:15:01 GMT
I stared him down and smirked. “Let’s see”, I walked over, reached out and pulled the nail from his head. He gulped, then slouched down against the wall. A black liquid started to slowly leak out of the tiny hole left in his head, then more. It then started gushing. I leant down to feel it, it was a thick goo, and it started to engulf me. I remembered when I had passed out earlier and felt the blackness, the same thing. I was pulled under, the thick black ink surrounded me. I slowly fell. When I finally landed, the substance slinked away and was left in a completely white void. Nothing at all. Not even a fucking chair to sit on. I looked around, nothing as far as I could see in every direction. Then I remembered what Lydia had said, “It’s happening”. I looked to the distance again, a tiny black dot. * We need a title as well
Off the cuff working title, in honor of Brit post-punk legends The Fall
"Mark'll Sink Us"Nice work and nice title!!!
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 20, 2020 7:47:37 GMT
I felt like sitting, so I did. The white was soft and I sank right into it, it was like being in a warm cocoon, my mind went back.
I used to work in an office, a pretty boring but easy data entry job, all the people there were dull and lifeless and I didn’t connect with any of them, did they all always only wear grey or is that just how I remembered it.
One day the printers and photocopiers started playing up. Paper just started spitting out of them, not just one of them, all of them, every machine on the entire fourteenth floor. And not slowly either, quickly, very quickly and they didn’t stop.
It got to a point where we all just crowded into the lifts and made our way downstairs. The whole office about fifty people stood on the pavement as paper started to fly out of the windows above us. A few pages made it to our feet, them some more. I noticed everyone looking at me. I slowly reached down and picked up one of the sheets. A very clear image of yours truly in black and white. I lost my job that afternoon.
That night I met Mark.
The black dot wasn’t moving. I picked myself up and started to slowly make my way toward it.
|
|
|
Post by Fox in the Snow on Jun 24, 2020 13:33:59 GMT
I started walking toward the point on the distant horizon. An empty desert. A desert without sand, a desert without salt, a desert without sun. The cotton candy and crystal castles of my mind, pink thrumming, walking on pins stilted.
I left my job, I wandered. The doors drew me in, like gold and faceted. I drifted into the cavernous smoke filled room, dark and concrete. Draped in black, on stage droning. The crowd entranced
They’re out there, somewhere They’re out there, somewhere They’re out there, somewhere They’re out there, somewhere They’re out there, somewhere They’re out there, somewhere...
Smoke and fog filled the room, the feedback subsided and I picked myself up. It was empty, I made my way to the bar.
He handed me a drink. “You look lost” he said “I am” “You’ve come to the right place then”
|
|