All contents Copyright 2006-7 Alexander Gullett. No borrowing, stealing, or other compromizing of the integrity of my work for personal gain. If I find out, j00 //1!! |3e pwned!!!1111!!
Short story, kinda old and crappy.
Mo came around slowly. The first thing he was aware of was pain. It seemed to hurt everywhere, and yet he was sure that he wasn’t in pain right now. It was like a headache, but throughout his entire body, but he felt fine. Brushing this off, he opened his eyes to see where he was.
Nothing.
It was darkness as far as he couldn’t see. “Well this is just great.” He thought to himself in a voice which seemed to boom inside his head. He tried to concentrate on his body, to figure out what was broken, but he couldn’t localize it. In fact, he was pretty sure he couldn’t feel his body at all. Blind and helpless, Mo considered the pain, hoping it would focus his thoughts.
However, the pain receded, leaving him alone, without sight, without a sense of position, body, or where he was. “I must have hit my head harder than I thought,” he heard the words booming around him again, as if he were trapped in an immense cavern without a flashlight.
“Or perhaps you’re in your head,” a voice answered from the darkness. The sound was harsh, bringing the receded pain back into full force, and causing Mo to temporarily lose track of his train of thought. “You pathetic man, what do you know of pain?” The voice struck him again, but this time Mo rallied, keeping his senses and struggling to pin down where this horribly guttural and malevolent voice was coming from.
“Who are you?” Mo called out into the darkness, his voice coming back to him, as loud as that of the voice which assaulted him. He realized then that he wasn’t hearing the voice that it was coming from inside his head, or what he thought of as his head.
“Now you see, don’t you, young one. I am inside you, part of you as you are part of me.”
“But, how? Where am I?” Mo concentrated, trying to bring everything into focus.
“You are, as I have said before, pathetic. Let me spell it out for you mortal. I am Maldor, he who possessed your weak body and drove you to free me from that infernal prison of a ring.” The voice rose, even more powerful and overwhelming Mo.
“B-but I thought you were gone? I remember you inside of me, and I remember you being forced out. You demon, you were what forced me to that horrid place.” His voice timorous, Mo fought to control his fear.
“Truly? You thought me gone? When such a soul as yours was within my grasp? Hardly. I retain a link between my mind and yours, and while your body lies helpless, wracked by the evil you unleashed, I shall have your MIND!” With this, Maldor’s eldritch utterances peaked, driving Mo into utter unconsciousness.
When he regained consciousness again, he was still in that utter pitch blackness. Concentrating as hard as he could, he forced his mind to see light, and gradually he was rewarded. Instead of black, he started to sense a graying, and slowly he could ‘see’ again. With this ‘light’ came back a sense of his self and he could ‘feel’ his body again. He slowly turned around, looking about, taking in what he could. His mindscape was a twisted ruin of what he had hoped, strewn with images from the last few horrific days. Bodies lie strewn about, heads separated from shoulders, torsos pitched left and right. Each one he knew had fallen by his hand, and he could not bear it.
“Now you see what you have done, my young one?” From behind him, he heard that mellifluous voice. Turning, Mo found himself face to face with a seething blackness, eight feet tall and sharply jagged around the edges, it was pitch black with two searing sockets where eyes might be. Its arms and legs ended in wicked looking talons, pitch black and reflecting no light.
“You! You made me do this! Vile demon!” Mo struck out, his hand passing harmlessly through the creature, a figment in his own mindscape.
“Oh no, my good Mo. You did this all your own. The only thing I did was open your eyes to your power, to what you could do. The world you could shape and the world you could dominate with such power. You are but a child in the eyes of the world, and until you master yourself, you are pitiful.” The demon raised its clawed hand and striking down, slashed Mo across the chest, knocking him backwards. “You see Mo? Knowledge is power, and I can teach you.”
Mo raised himself up, touching his hand to his chest. He glared at Maldor. “Over my dead body.”
The demon seemed to smirk. “Very well, have it your way.”
And another
He’d run out of food again. This time, he was pretty sure it was permanent. Then again, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, but that felt permanent too. So much had changed recently it all seemed so transient, but somehow, the air rung with a sense of finality. Dave – he thought that was his name, he wasn’t sure anymore - opened the window and looked out. Nothing. The streets were empty of life, as the sky was of light.
“This atmospheric cataclysm will be over in a few hours,” the weatherman had reassured ages ago. It had been over, but not much had remained. The first few nights after that had been hell. He’d lost Georgia then, too soon. A sigh escaped his parched lips as the memory resurfaced.
Angrily, his stomach reminded him that he was out of food. Not that he had truly forgotten, but he could hope so. With less and less to scrounge, and more and more turning rotten by the day, he was pretty sure he’d have to leave soon. Go outside and take his chances. Dave wasn’t very good at fighting; he wasn’t good at anything, except for staying indoors and out of sight. Maybe he could find food that way. He had nothing left to do but try.
Dave stuffed a sweatshirt over his head, and carefully peaked outside. Maybe the new day would bring new food. Quietly, Dave slid outside, into the shadows. The night was empty again.
There are other examples in the journal somewhere . . . go look. :p
Whigh Community Member 
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