WTF IS THIS CRAP!? - BobSagat

Fan-fiction, short stories, screenplays, poems -- anything text-based really belongs here.

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Re: The BS of BS

Postby Material Defender » Mon Jan 16, 2006 6:57 pm

Please stop.

You're embarassing yourself.
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Postby BobSagat » Mon Jan 16, 2006 7:01 pm

Well duh.

I mean... obviously.

Besides, it's not like you're ever going to have any fun if you're always worrying about embarassing yourself.

Let loose.
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Re: The BS of BS

Postby Material Defender » Mon Jan 16, 2006 7:02 pm

Anyways, are you going to make more to the story?
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Postby QuickSilver » Mon Jan 16, 2006 7:11 pm

Now all we need are nukes and an army of highly trained Russian Dwarf Hamsters with Winchester rifles to destroy Canada and then replace the president of the USA with a android bent on destroying anything made of flesh but falls in love with a PS2 and kills itself...oooooor, a plausable and readable storyline...you pick...
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Postby BobSagat » Mon Jan 16, 2006 7:13 pm

@MD

Yeah, I'm just getting really distracted.

@Quickie

Sounds good.

What should we call it?

I know just the studio that'll help us.

Disney.
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Postby QuickSilver » Mon Jan 16, 2006 7:16 pm

Was that at the first part of my post, or the second part...
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Re: The BS of BS

Postby BobSagat » Mon Jan 16, 2006 11:46 pm

@Quickie

Both actually

~~~

The Corollary

Let it be known, that after the Beginning, the good king of pain decided that it was time that he departed from the bedridden land that he occupied. And of course, the First followed him in adoring reverence, for she was his follower, his priest, his servant, and his lover.

Let it be known, that the pair trekked across the deserts that stretched forever, the millions of dunes of the barren wasteland, until finally, starved, thirsty, and nearly mad, they came to a foreign land.

Let it be known, that after the king and his First, after eating and drinking their fill, descended upon the king and spoke to him in unison. “Foreign king, good king of other land, let it be known that the king of pain has come.”

The alien king looked at the two in terror, for surely, they must be mad, there was no king of pain, or at least none that he had heard of. “Leave at once, vagrants and vermin! Do not defile my halls for any longer.”

It was then that the king of pain’s eyes sparked with that madness again, and he struck the palace walls with his burning fist. “Do not make a mockery of me, strange king! I have traveled far to meet you! I shall not be denied! I am the king of pain! Know your place!”

The foreign king stood up in rage, yelling for his guards. Turning to the mad king before him he spoke softly but dangerously, “Let this be known, vagrant! None shall command me in my palace. None shall object to me. None shall rise higher then me. I am king of this land! And I shall not be spoken down to by a strange young man!”

The guards marched in and took the king of pain and his First by the arms. The king of pain struggled with his captors, shook at their holds, but when they did not let go, he screamed in rage and the guards fell to the floor, their bodies racked with pain. Slowly, the king of pain looked back up at the king with burning mad eyes. “Let this be known, vagrant! None shall command me in my palace. None shall object to me. None shall rise higher then me. I am king of this land! And I shall not be spoken down to by a strange young man!”

And the strange young man dropped to his knees, crying, begging to the king of the land. “Forgive me, good king! Forgive me! It shall be known! I swear it shall be known!”

“Go. Tell your followers there is a king of pain. Let it be known.” said the good king with a wave of his hand.

The strange young man nodded, his head kept down, avoiding the gaze of the king. “By sunset, all shall know of you, all shall know!” And with that the strange young man ran off, down to the people of the land to tell the tales of the king.

The king of pain sighed, moved to the First and pulled her to him. “How many more are there, First?”

“Many more…” replied the First, “Oh so many more, good king of pain.”

The king of pain nodded and kissed the girl’s brow. “So be it. Let there be pain, my love.”

The First looked up at her king and whispered faintly. “Let there be pain, good loving king.”

And as the strange young man sped from town from town to tell of the king of pain, there was suffering among the people.

There was pain.

~~~

First off, all capitalization is done completely on purpose.

Second, I'll be surprised if anyone can catch all the symbolism in this. Brownies for everyone does!
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Re: The BS of BS

Postby Material Defender » Tue Jan 17, 2006 6:32 am

And then death...
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Postby Yoshi » Tue Jan 17, 2006 6:50 am

Life is an integral passage from birth to death. Woo, I'm deep :P
"Worst case scenario I'll get arrested for public nudity.
Best case scenerio I'll get arrested for public nudity with a boner. It's win win.
" ~ Dave
"Also Yoshi is the most important person in all of Australia." ~ Zepherin
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Re: The BS of BS

Postby Material Defender » Tue Jan 17, 2006 8:16 am

Not really, most people know that. Just they phrase it different.
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Postby BobSagat » Tue Jan 24, 2006 2:38 am

For all thos ewho care... I updated... took me a while... I was busy with a few things... more things then usual. But yeah, I mostly slacked off.

~~~

The King’s Apathy

The good king of pain had finally established his great kingdom. Dethroned the heretic and became ruler of the foreign land. Thousands of souls were bound to the king, bound to him in loyalty and faith and in love.

However, the king was displeased. The king was now a great man and he now became bored with his duties, his requirements, the demands, he hated it. So in a fit of rage the man came to his First, asking, on his knees, “Dear First, wise First. You have nourished me before, like my lover, you have guarded me and cared for me. Now I plead, humble before you, is there anything more to this pitiful life of mine? Life of a king?”

The First nodded slowly and kissed her king’s head. “You are a holy man, good king. To be chained to such a sump as this? You deserve better. But… I am only your First, I make no decision, it is yours and yours alone to choose.”

“No.” The king of pain rose and glared at the loyal girl. “Do not speak to me like that. It sickens me. Do not speak to me as if I were your greater. I, the king of pain, am an equal with my First. Never shall you insult yourself. Live, my First. Live.”

The nubile girl nodded and wrapped her arms around her king’s neck and raised herself to brush their lips together. “Let us leave this hovel then, my king.”

“So it shall be.” The king said and he pushed past all the guards and servants, down through the palace and out through the gates.

No one questioned him. They had long learned to fear him, to steer clear of him, unless called upon.

The king gave up his throne, he no longer, nor did he ever require it. And the great king of pain stood before his people. The strange, young man, his First, and the filthy peasants of the world faced one another at last. They were suffering, agony grinded at their bodies and illnesses tore at their minds, it was pain and the good king of pain relished it.

There was no one who did not. But it was he, the king, that loved it the most. Until one frail old man, stepped forward, immediately recognizing the good king, and this old man spoke in his brittle voice. “Splendid king. Grand king. Good king… I have lived an eternity of this pain. I have enjoyed it, just as you have. I cannot sleep for my very bones shake in anguish. But I must ask you Splendid king. Grand king. Good king… let me sleep. I have not slept in so long, I yearn for it just as you, pain. Can you grant me this one wish?”

The First glared at the man and asked venomously, “You would give up an eternity of pain for sleep? Are you mad, Elder?”

“I think I may be, king of pain and his First.” The man sighed and visibly shivered. “My mind it has been eroded… mauled… twisted, some horrible infliction has befallen it. But now… all I wish for is… sleep. So I beg of you, good king, let me sleep.”

“Of course, Elder. Your wish is my command.” The king bowed and snapped his fingers easily.

Immediately, the ancient man dropped to the ground, asleep.

Looking at the unconscious form of the old man, sadly, the king asked his first. “What was this man’s name?”

“Death, was his calling.” The First said plainly.

“Death it is then, my First. It shall be Death.”

~~~

Now are you asking yourself, "WTF is t3h PLOT!?"

I'll answer by asking this: "I have no fucking idea. Now read for the symbolism!!!!"

...

Yeah, no one's going to do that...

But it is fun weaving a bunch of symbolistic crap into the story.

Peace.
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Postby BobSagat » Tue Feb 14, 2006 1:24 am

UGH.

I feel uninspired to write any more KINGDOM OF PAIN crap, so I'm giving it up.

...

...

...

...

I feel like being a heretic now...

The Gentle

There are some countries like Malawi, Somalia, Ethiopia and Nepal where life is especially difficult. One of the modern world could not possibly understand what life is like there. Plagues strike at the people, technology for the most-part is either deficient or rare, the government is inept and the people die by the thousands.

Although this fact alone is sad enough, the state of the people’s mind is sadder yet. The human body, despite all its weaknesses can take a terrible beating and live to tell about it, however those physical faults, when exploited, can do much more than just physical damage. For some, this is all they know, this is their life, their destiny. For others, those who have seen the sophisticated and pampered world, they feel a great longing. And when these others go out and tell their fellow people, they too feel a great longing, however with their government deserting them, aide unavailable or too far, the people turn to the one thing that has always made people feel better – as well as feel worse – God.

In desperation those people turn to their Gods, their priests, their monks and they assum whatever pose they may use and they pray. They pray and pray and pray, wishing with all their hearts, for their problems to simply disappear. With that impetuosity, they ignored the impossibility, the madness of it all, the sheer insanity of their actions and they prayed.

Curiously enough, their wishes came true.

All those unfortunate souls that called out to God at once, they instantly felt that moment of relief, the feeling of pure, untouched joy.

They experienced Rapture.

Their pain was gone.

They no longer ached in the stomach or in their bones. The blind could see, the deaf, hear, and the diseased, cured.

It was a miracle.

The countries rebounded, pulled themselves from out of poverty, established working and efficient governments, technology reached a comfortable level and the people were given all the care they could ever need. They became gleaming utopias, where crime was almost nonexistent and everyone was treated fairly.

And in those few decades a baby, who was born on that instant of international rapture, died.

While those people blessed by God continued on joyously with their new life, not knowing of that boy’s death, God seethed. He was absolutely livid, for not only did no one remembered the boy, but several had been happy that he died. All those years, God had not been looking at the blessed, but instead, focusing only on that boy.

Only him.

~~~

ZOMG

SEXX)RS BETWEENZ GOD AND T@H b-

END

...

No, I lied.

It's to be continued.
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Re: The Most Retarded Monologue EVAR with BS

Postby BobSagat » Sat Mar 04, 2006 2:45 am

Wrote this when I was half-awake, tipsy, and listening to hardcore classical.

Untitled

Twisting, vile, cunning and sly. They stab, they poke at me. It burns, it feels hot! It tingles at my skin and I shudder in pain.

There is a sensation. A creeping one, as if there were a beast by my side slowly stalking me, ready to devour me at any time. I can feel its jaws unhinge and hang wide, the precarious drool silently touching the floor as the abomination imagines tearing me to shreds.

Its sick tongue drags across the floor, I know it’s there. Waiting for me to move so that it can rip through me. Beads of sweat slide down the base of my neck, what can I do? I am, but a man, what can this unarmed, unfit, abomination do to another?

My back aches from standing so stiff. My jaw aches and my stomach protests from the lack of food. The freak, the death-bringer breathing on me, beside me, I notice the ripple of muscle and flesh.

Oh… how it would be good. Be good to sink my teeth into his, rip through his flesh, eat him, drink him, be him, experience him! I feel the world, looking at the beast from the corner of my eye. My entire body shakes with anticipation.

Should I move now?

My hands shake, I can’t control it, not any longer. My arms jerk, popping out of their sockets to pierce the freak’s flesh. I wince in pain but I grin in delight as I see the monster bleeding. My claws had gone through his and killed him. The twisted being is immediately dead and I take him into my hands.

I grasp the fat thing from both sides and bring my head down to his. My teeth are sharp, they slice through his rough skin and give access to his blood, his soul, his meat. And oh, does he taste good, if only he could know how well he is.

My teeth hit bone, but I ignore it, my teeth are strong enough, sharp and hard they pass through the bone with simple ease.

As I sink my fangs into his chest I can still hear the dull thump of his fading heart. The monster, still alive from all the damage done to him. I pull at the tendons a bit more and take a large bite from his face. The freak quivers some more, moaning like whore, almost as if feeling delight from the whole ordeal. Strange one this is, but his bones snap nicely and his blood gushes in good amounts.

A sudden tap at my shoulder and I look up surprised from my meal. A man, a fat one, ugly one, fat and ugly, a mean and squashed face, he pokes at me with his stick, quietly muttering.

I look at the fat bastard unhappily. Opening my mouth, I speak the words, “What do you want?”

The man does not reply, only continues to jab at me. Fat bastard. Doesn’t know what from what.

The burning sensation fills me again. I can feel it rising in my throat, straining at my eyes. My mouth becomes dry and I can feel the liquids being secreted from my eyes. “Why, I ask,” tears flowing freely from my face. “Why?”

The man laughs and turns.

I breath a sigh of relief.

Then he collapses, shaking violently on the floor, clutching at his chest, gasping in horror and finally dying.

I witnessed it all.

Who can I tell of this horrible thing?

I shudder at the thought of going to the others. Instead I move to the fat man and quickly cut through his blubber, dealing it out in even proportions. “Best not to go to waste, eh?” I say more to myself than the dead body.

Burn.

I look up surprised. Was there someone there? Someone attacking me? I looked around, seeing no one in the expanse of permanent darkness. “Nothing…” I mumbled, assuring myself.

Burn.

There it was again! I scan the room desperately, but again, no one is there. I cry and I rub at my eyes. “Where are you?” I scream into the darkness. “I want to see you! Free me! Let make the world! Show yourself!”

The world twists and my legs buckle underneath me. I fall to the floor, sobbing, scared and unsure. Where am I? Who am I? Who are you? What is this? Question after question run through my mind and I desperately try to answer them, but to no avail.

Resigned to defeat I choose to seek help: “Where am I? Who am I? Who are you? What is this?”

The darkness responds by shifting and I feel myself sliding down the floor, crashing into a wall. I rub at my aching shoulders and sob at the pain. “Fucker! Bastard! I’ll rip you limb from limb, I will tear you apart!” I scream, making idle threats to an unseen beast. “Show yourself, tell me your name!”

Oh.

A low rumble fills the room again and I realize who it is.

Oh, I’m so stupid.

“Hello Samson!” I yell, waving to the sky. “Hello there, how are you? I’ve been going around a bit… It sort of hurts.” I said, testily touching at the blood covering my fur. “Can you fix that.

No reply.

I sigh. Bastard. Freak Demon and monster. T appalls me, the lack of generosity. I should kill them all. Kill God. The twisted fiend. Eat him, devour him and drink him. It’d be the ultimate union, man and wife, finally joining together now and forever.

I was to become the Holy Bride. The holy Mother of God. “Where can I see you, God?” My voice bursts from the dark box. Echoing across the world. I yell again with the question unanswered. “Where can I touch you, God? Where shall we wed? What vows shall we make?” I ask, my mind completely taken by love.

And then I die.
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Re: More Symbolic BS with BS

Postby BobSagat » Thu Mar 30, 2006 10:59 pm

“Where is he now? Where is your Master?” The man smiled silently and crept through the room carefully placing his feet on the floor as to avoid the scattered mess around him. Books lay splattered across the floor, their pages bent and covers dirtied, they were all a mess and there were hundreds of them. “Is he here? Or is he like you? Hiding away like some decrepit mouse?” The man danced a little, jumping over the scattered books. “Oh how fun! Is he like you then? Is he as much fun?”

A whimper rose from behind a pile and the man chuckled. “So scared are we? No need to be…” The large man skipped through the books and landed near his prey. “Why yes… you’re scared. Might I ask why?”

Another whimper and the small figure pulled himself into a ball.

The large man laughed again. “Oh yes. This is quite fun. Such a pleasure to see one’s work come to fruition in a matter of seconds…”

“L-l-leave me… me alone…” The curled boy managed to say, tears beginning to emerge from his eyes. “J-just leave me alone…”

“Alone?” The man grinned and gently placed his hand on the boy’s head to pat him. “Boy… I am here to accompany you. Accompany you on your journey to life. Or death. Depends on how you look at it.” The man laughed again.

The boy shook under the hand and mumbled under his breath.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear.”

The boy wiped at his face and spoke softly and amazingly, calmly. “He’s on the roof.” The boy ducked his chin in and pulled himself into a ball again. “Now leave me alone, I want to read.”

A smile played over the man’s face and he pulled away from the young boy. His feet quickly moving through the mess, not minding if he stepped on a book or not. The man reached a stairwell soon enough and he lightly pulled himself up, humming a tiny tune all the way.

The man pushed open the roof door and breathed in the night time air. “Tastes like ink.” he said in a dissatisfied tone.

But there on the roof was another, a tiny figure, staring off at the edge. Grinning, the man snuck up behind and smiled. “Hello there friend. I was just… passing by. Hope you wouldn’t mind… I can tell, something’s wrong. You’re breath is short and I can hear you dead already.”

“Blood…” The short man said abruptly, ignoring the intruder’s strange comments. “Blood is what you lack, fiend. What are you?”

“A tax collector.”

The short man turned to face the intruder, revealing an aged face and long-matured body. “Come to take my life?”

“If you’d like to call it that.” the smile crossed the man’s face again. “You’re a bit overdue, so I’ve got to include interest.”

“The boy?”

A chuckle. “You’re good at this. Perhaps you should have taken this job instead of me…”

The tiny elder turned to face the sky again. “I’ve read a lot about you.”

“I’ve seen.” A grin appeared and the tall man slid his arm around old man’s tiny body. “You hold quite a bit of knowledge within this ruined vessel.”

“I’ve been running from you…”

“And that’s why there’s interest.”

The old man gasped suddenly, his breath coming in heavy. “I have to do this?”

“We all have to…” the strange man grinned wider and wrapped his arms around the man’s tiny head. “Even me.”

“No! I don’t want to!” The frail elder said, screaming hysterically. “I’m not going to…”

There was a loud snap and the old man fell, his head twisted so that his face struck the concrete even when he had fallen backwards.

Again, there was a whimper and the young boy emerged.

The murdering man grinned at the sight of him and chuckled. “Have you enjoyed your reading time, boy?”

“Y-yes.” The boy stuttered, looking straight at his dead master, unable to tear away his eyes.

“Well then come closer, child.” The man grinned, his eyes twinkling with a special appreciation of the youth. “Come to me and I shall tell you an ancient tale of Life and Death and the God who decided it how it should be. You have much to learn.”

The boy hesitated, the man had just murdered his master, yet the boy could not resist the gentle allure the man’s voice raised. He simply had to know the story, he would never be able to live through the night if he didn’t. So slowly, the boy inched forward and approached the killer. “Tell me. I want to know.”

The killer grinned that hollow, empty movement of mouth and spoke. “Of course you do.”
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Postby BobSagat » Wed Apr 19, 2006 1:02 am

Sleeping Beauty

The young prince looked up at the gate of thorns and clutched at his sword. He had crossed kingdoms and countries far from his homeland, simply to reach this point. His companions had all fallen or left him in what they had deemed “an endless journey.” But the prince had ignored them and alone, with only his sword and horse, he had arrived finally at those rose gates.

The gates were barred shut, wound tightly with rose vines rising far above his head. The prince reached out with an unsteady to touch the gate, but pulled back instantly, pricking his finger on the thorns. The man cursed, wiped the blood on a handkerchief and pulled out his prized weapon, a gleaming silver blade, bathed in holy water and blessed by the Bishop. With unexpected strength, the young prince struck at the rusted hinges and vines and toppled the iron gate.

The prince was left with a grand view of the ancient castle, but he ignored it, sheathing his sword and quickly striding to the open gates.

The place reeked and it was clear that the castle had been left in disarray for years, the very stone had become covered in moss and once grand adornments lay scatted uselessly across the floor. The prince shook off his initial disgust and continued through, ducking under cobwebs and sidestepping passing rats. Despite the ruin that the castle had fallen to, the prince still recognized it as the same one from his dreams, every miniscule detail was here as it was a hundred years ago even with the wear of time.

And the prince knew exactly where the staircase was, reaching the weathered steps in moments. The young man climbed the steps, two at a time, eager to reach the one who had called out to him so dearly in his dreams.

Finally he was there, the room at the top of the tower, frozen still in time and at the center a grandiose bed with a single sleeping beauty.

The prince stood there in shock. He had finally reached it, the place and the person that had called out to him so earnestly each night of his life. Slowly, the prince approached the bed and spoke aloud. “A thousand leagues, I’ve traveled… All to simply glimpse at your splendor…” the prince had reached the foot of the bed and he gently leaned forward to look directly at the sleeping woman. “If I may… steal a kiss?”

A translucent hand slid over his neck and threw him back. A shapeless shadow with burning white eyes glared at the prince and growled. “What do you think you’re doing brat?”

The prince slammed into the wall, but he recovered quickly, pulling out his sacred sword and standing to his feet. “So! Demon! It was you that had enchanted her!”

The shadow snarled and before the prince could attack, the shadow had pinned him to the wall. “What do you think you’re doing, Beast-Prince?” the shadow asked the prince.

The young man struggled against the dark extension and looked at the shadow fiercely. “I am here, Demon, to save this girl.”

“Save? Save?” the shadow released the prince and reared back, giggling madly. “You’re here to save her?” Again the shadow cackled. “How naïve, young Beast-Prince!”

The prince looked at the dark figure in disgust and yelled, “What’s so funny, Demon?!”

The shadow chuckled, this time taking the shape of a featureless man. “What makes you think, young Beast-Prince, that the girl wants to be rescued?”

The prince gaped at the now-human-shaped shadow and stuttered. “She… she called out to me! In my dreams! From the day I was born!”

A seam split where the shadow’s mouth would have been and twisted into a wide white grin. “Silly! Silly, silly, silly Beast-Prince! Did she actually say anything? Or…” The shadow grinned even wider, far beyond human capabilities and giggled. “Or did you fabricate little romances between yourself and that beautiful sleeping girl? Spend all day thinking of her, making a personality for her and creating a story, hmm?”

The prince blushed and screamed, “Shut up! Why wouldn’t she want to be rescued!? She’s been cursed! Cursed to sleep forever!”

The shadow moved closer to the prince, still grinning. “So? What’s wrong with that? Didn’t you also fantasize in your sleep? Fantasize of her? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

The prince stared at the shadow, grinding his teeth and gripping his sword edgily. “Damnit, Demon! Why am I listening to you?” The prince charged forward suddenly and swung his blade wildly. “Die Demon!”

The shadow instantly fell away, dissolving, the blade meeting its formed head. The prince stepped back and sheathed his blade, panting from the rush of adrenaline. “And now... with the Demon dead…” the prince turned to the sleeping girl again and quickly moved to her. “Now to kiss the sleeping princess.”

But the dark hand gripped the prince again and threw him back. The shadow reformed, no longer taking the shape of a man and instead loomed over the fallen prince in rage. “Beast-Prince… Simple-minded fool, do not upset me. You understand nothing.”

“I am going to free her!” The prince snarled, clutching at his sword desperately. “And you shall not stop me, Demon!”

“Why?” The shadow moved closer and the prince found himself involuntarily moving backwards. “Why must you pester her with your own insatiable lust?”

“Shut up!” The prince yelled, “You speak only lies and tricks! You are a monster of deceit! You seek solely to twist and manipulate! She must be freed! She must be able to live life as it truly should be!”

“Oh?” The shadow sneered, “Who are you to decide how all should live?”

The prince threw out his hand and pointed at the slumbering princess and shouted in rage. “That! That is not living! That is a lie! She must face reality!”

“Why?” The shadow asked emotionless. “Why not live for an eternity in a ever-lasting paradise? She can’t tell, she doesn’t care, she’s happy.”

“It’s not true life, though. It’s a lie and that’s all you do! Lie!” The prince replied with a snarl.

The shadow fell back, moving near the bed. “So what? She doesn’t know the difference anymore and she’s happy. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not real!” The prince yelled desperately, feeling suddenly weak.

“To her it is. To her, it’s totally real and her happiness, is most definitely real.” The shadow replied, its glowing white eyes glaring menacingly at the prince. “Leave her be, Beast-Prince. Let her sleep.”

The prince nodded slowly, defeated. His sword clattered against the stone floor and he dropped to his knees, crying. “What have I been doing this whole time, Demon!? Chasing after a dream! My friends, my family, they all left me! What is wrong with me?”

The shadow was there beside the prince in an instant. “You were trying to live a dream, Beast-Prince.” The shadow reached out and touched the prince’s shoulder with a small human hand. “But you can only reach a dream in your sleep.”

The prince glanced up at the glowing white eyes of the shadow and nodded.

The shadow gave the prince a brief squeeze and the young man fell to the floor, unconscious forevermore. “Sleep, Beautiful Prince.”
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Postby BobSagat » Sun May 28, 2006 4:58 pm

I have no idea how I came up with this crap:

Easy to Approach

The boy was easy to approach.

It was at an odd time, when most were either at work or school, although I doubted that even in any other times, that any came this way. There was a general stink around us, garbage dropped and left here where no sanitarian would go. It was probably through my walks and a few bag ladies that a path actually existed through the crap. Naturally, I knew that the gentle roar of cars would cover my footsteps and the towering buildings provided me a satisfying shade in which to conceal myself. This was my territory. He wouldn’t notice me until I was directly behind him.

Today, however, I had worn high-heels. I usually don’t. They were awkward and uncomfortable, I could never move properly with them constantly setting me off balance. Even worse, each step sounded like a gunshot even with the passing cars, it was a miracle that the boy hadn’t heard me yet.

And I don’t know what had possessed me to wear a dress either, it was just as horrible as the shoes. Every step had me wondering and worrying, would I fall or would I lose my dignity to a stray breeze? I couldn’t help but wish for my old high-tops, jeans and shirt. No doubt, I’d be able to walk properly rather than moving as if I were on stilts.

Clumsily walking as I did, the boy moved slower, still.

He hadn’t worriedly looked behind like the others did. Usually, when the children went through here, it was on a dare, a prank or sometimes just by chance. The boy however, didn’t follow pattern when he found himself in the middle of a strange alleyway, he didn’t fret or tremble like his forerunners’ did. Wet his pants or scream or fall or anything, he was abnormally normal. He moved casually, his hands swaying nicely and evenly and his feet falling easily into an almost perfect monotone pattern. Looking at him only yards away, the boy could have been walking around his house. He was perfectly calm and I felt irked at that.

It made me wonder if the boy went through alleys often, though surely not this one. This lane, tarnished with grime, sewage and impurities belonged only to me. I knew every worthless nook and cranny in this miniature wasteland.

I was close enough to touch the boy now, if I stretched out my arm I could reach and wrap my entire hand around his slim neck.

And still he wouldn’t turn around.

Had he not heard me?

I reached out to grab him, but my hand stopped just short of his head, I hesitated. It didn’t feel right. It was so out of pattern, so out of order, it simply felt wrong to still try and proceed.

The boy should at least notice me. It was almost insulting that he had not felt my presence, especially when I had dressed as extravagant and impractical as I had. Surely I deserved some attention, doing what I do. But no, the boy continued simply on, moving in that simple automatic way that had begun to disturb me. The boy’s arms and legs fell perfectly together, never missing a beat, always keeping up with the rhythm, never once falling behind or speeding up.

Just that constant, slow and mechanical walk.

Was he really human?

I blinked at the thought. It was ridiculous, what else could the boy be? Still, it bothered me, the boy was simply so out of ordinary. It itched at me terribly and I found my hands trembling for whatever reason. They shook and vibrated violently and I barely managed my gait.

Slowly, I inhaled and fought for my sanity.

There was nothing wrong, if anything, everything was going perfectly, I reassured myself, the boy hasn’t seen you yet, so make him see. A faint and familiar smile touched my lips and my arm shot out and gripped the boy solidly by the neck. With practiced motions, I retracted him back, forcibly pulling him closer to me till his head rested on my chest.

Though there was no whimper or scream as there should have been, I grimly continued. I turned my body and pushed the boy hard against the wall, my hand still firmly wrapped around his neck, pinning him there. With my free hand, I produced a butterfly knife, a weapon I successfully hidden in a small pocket. A flicker of my hand and the blade became revealed, somehow catching a light to shine in this pitch-black abyss.

The light glanced over the boy’s face and I opened my mouth in horror, but found that air escaped me, no sound came from my empty screams. My hands jolted back, flinching at the thought of embrace of the boy and my precious blade fell harmlessly to the floor whilst my hands shook the air desperately. My fingers arched, clawing madly at the particles that emptied noiselessly from my lungs.

I gasped violently, but no breath would come, no sudden rush of cool air which would appease my slowly starving brain cells.

My vision blurred, hazed, doubled, clouded, filled with murk and some black steam, yet I could still the boy clearly. I pitched over and retched, scattering my lunch across the muddy pavement, but the boy paid it no mind as he stepped through it and thoughtfully helped me stand straight.

I saw a faint curve below the boy’s nose and realized he was smiling and then… speaking. Carefully, but strikingly clearly, the boy was speaking, “Anon, I wouldst arrive straight away, Gilded Sibling, hath it not been for this maiden. Fear not, lest I be simple enough, thou shall gaze upon my ascending figure momentarily.” The boy laughed and I flinched at the sound of it, but he paid no mind to my jerking motions as he leaned to pick up the knife I had dropped earlier before. “Behold, Gilded Brother, mark the virgin, note the twitch and flutter of heart. She swings erratically, but of no real concern, brewing it to become my own duty to oversee her.” The boy moved his hand swiftly through the butterfly knife, cleanly pulling out the blade just as I had and he slowly edged the blade to the tip of my temple. “Oversee no longer, I will. The cur has gained too much thought, the mind must end for her.” Than the boy looked me in the eyes, finally, staring me straight in the face and smiled. “Do not cower, thou shan’t faint away meaninglessly, thy death has purpose. Many cannot say the same for their own, graced thou are with good fortune, thy shall be kept in remembrance forevermore.” The boy gave another gentle smile and the blade slid into my head with simple ease, cutting effortlessly inside. There was a brief moment of shock and realization, but I found my body completely unable to respond, it would not move no matter how much I urged, even my heart seemed to stop. I could feel nothing of my body, all that was left was my sight and hearing and I distinctly heard the butterfly knife leaving my skull with a sickly sound and saw the crescent my body made as it fell. There was a wet thud and I would have shivered and screamed in disgust that my head had actually touched the filth-ridden floor, but still, my body refused to respond and I gave a hopeless scream in my mind.

“Let this be my final words unto you.” The boy said, the smile now gone, replaced with perfect seriousness. “Rigid, the mind and body may be, groundless, the soul and spirit may be, but forever life will be. Fear not Death, and you shall indeed, Live.”

I stared at him, filled with rage, and pulled a grimace onto my face. My body racked with pain suddenly, my nerves seemed to snap and my muscles twist, but I finally managed to breath again, oxygen meeting my lungs finally and I glared up at the small boy with renewed spirit.

The boy’s eye lit with alarm and surprise for the first time and I couldn’t help but giving a feeble grin at it. I still had the old charm.

“How blasphemous,” the boy yelled surprisingly loudly and he took out the butterfly knife again. “Thou still has not met Death? I tell you, blubbering simpleton, this is the most harmless method to meet the scythe… or… would you prefer more painful means?”

I tried to move, to get up and strangle the freakish brat, put an end to his annoying self-centered speech, but my body still failed me. Already, my body burned as if it were on fire with each breath. The most threatening thing I could manage was a decrepit glare while my head lay on its side in a putrid mess.

The boy however, seemed to acknowledge the stare I gave him and he frowned gravely. “Very well, it’ll be the latter then. Though I can’t understand, for the life of me, why you would be so stubborn. No matter, Death becomes us all, foolish maiden. Die imme…”

“What hast become of you, Silver Brother?”

The boy turned around suddenly and saluted sharply at the figure that had appeared just to the right of us. It was hard looking at them with my head tilted at such an angle, but I could still see clearly enough that the new figure was identical to the boy who stood before me.

“Well, Silver Brother? Care to divulge what information thou hast received?” The strange new boy asked.

“Yes, Gilded Brother!” The boy shouted, still saluting. “I was my proceeding to return to the rift, but the scarlet woman distracted me. I then decided she had studied too much and she must cease all bodily functions for the sake of many more.”

The boy called Gilded Brother nodded, still maintaining his calm smile. “A wise decision, but she lives still, why?”

“I had pierced her skull with a butterfly knife at point 37 of the human brain at a 90 degree angle, but despite what the manual indicates she has not perished in 8.62379002 seconds after the attack.”

Gilded Brother laughed and my body exploded in pain as I twitched in horror at the sound. It was like a twisted bark accompanied by a thousand screeching nails across a blackboard. “I have not known you to fail, Silver Brother. This ‘scarlet woman’ must be one of the projected identities we were to investigate. Revive her, Silver Brother, inspection will occur in the anteroom, ensure that she reaches there.”

“Yes, Gilded Brother.” The boy said and he pulled his arm away from the salute finally and rounded on me, his hands quickly covering my eyes, blacking out the dimly lit alley and enveloping me into a darkness I could not hope to comprehend.

Soon enough, I had fallen asleep.
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