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((NOTICE: This chapter has swearing. It gets worse, trust me >__> __
Chapter 1: Dead Men
Jack groaned, splashing water on his face, the coldness snapping him back into reality. Though just barely. He looked up, into the dirty and cracked mirror, to see a just as dirty face. His black hair was a mess, not sitting below his shoulders like normal, but instead out to the side. His face, covered in dirt, mostly from the apartment he stayed in. Try as they might, Jack and his room-mate, and also best friend, Richard, couldn't seem to get the place clean. It was a dump.
Jack stood up straight, rubbing his back. He sore and stiff from the bed, it was just as broken as the rest of the place. But, since both of them were having trouble keeping money flowing in, this had to do. He looked in the mirror again, a smile coming to his face as he started making 'heroic' poses. He didn't' look too bad. Sure, he wasn't the most athletic person in the world, and as such, didn't have anything even close to any kind of 'pack' on his stomach, he was happy with how he was. He didn't look strong, or fast. He didn't even look smart, but he was. One punch from him was a killer, and for such a tall man he could get into some... interesting places. He stood heads above your average Scottish citizen, just like Richard, which was handy. Most of the time.
“Jack! Move it! You're driving today, remember?” Richard barked, taking a bite of his piece of toast. “And for once, I don't want to be late! I could get promoted today, which means we can get out of this s**t-hole.” Richard had a rather deep voice, easily mistakable for someone much older than he actually was. Jack was the older of the two, by three months. In fact, his 18th birthday was in a weeks time, and one of his best friends, Louise, was coming all the way over from New York, just to celebrate.
“What, you think I want to be here next week? Dude, nothing I'd like more than getting an actual NICE place for my birthday.” Jack rubbed his right shoulder, as he walked out of the bathroom, then tripped over a pile of boxes and slammed face first into the ground. “DAMMIT RICHARD! I told you to move those bloody boxes.”
“And I will. Tonight.” Richard smirked, and Jack growled. Or, tried to. It didn't really come out as planned. He didn't have a very deep voice, and that annoyed him sometimes, even more so when Richard was making fun of him for it. Why, he'd never know. “Besides, I like seeing you fall on your a**.”
“I am going to kill you one of these days.”
“Well, make it after your birthday. I want to get completely ******** smashed, alright?” Richard started to laugh, before throwing Jack a bit of toast, which the black haired boy caught effortlessly, even on the floor. “Now go get your girly a** changed, we're taking my bike today right?” He stood up, running a hand through his short blond hair, then walked towards one of the many boxes scattered on the floor, pulling out the uniform for his work. He was a salesman for some crappy company, working in one of the more 'interesting' parts of Glasgow.
Jack, on the otherhand, was off to college today. Trying, in vain, to finish up a report for his class, due tomorrow, which would pretty much decide if he would pass or fail. Richard didn't have that worry, he was almost guaranteed a pass anyway, in his Sales course. If Jack managed to pass... well, he could get out of his job at the movie theatre, and get into programming, game designing, something to do with writing lots of code for computer programs. Now that would be heaven for him. Biting into the toast, and holding it in his mouth, Jack jumped to his feet, pulling a shirt out of another box. Just a plain, black shirt, nothing fancy. Today he handed in the program he'd be coding for the last three months, tomorrow he handed in the report. Nothing big. Jack sighed, knowing he was lying to himself. The next two days would pretty much decide his future... at least his destiny for the next three or four years. “Deep breath matey.... deep breath.”
“Jack, stop being crazy and get the helmets, I got the bags, and I'll go get the bike out.” Richard grinned, slamming the door shut. Jack shrugged, standing up straight, and walked over to the small cupboard they had, pulling out the two motorbike helmets, grabbing his keys to the flat, and to Richard's bike, before jogging out the door and down the stairs, suddenly having a good feeling about the day.
Jack yawned, tapping the helmet on his head, as he waited for the light to change to green, as he felt Richard shuffle about on the back of the bike. He was getting rather impatient, the trip was taking longer than either of them would like. Red light after red light, not to mention a nice, long queue at the heavy roadworks that just seemed to pop out of nowhere! “Come on! Change!” Richard shouted, resting both his hands on Jack's shoulders. “This sucks... CHANGE ALREADY!” Jack couldn't help but laugh, before a swift punch to the back of his helmet shut him up.
A few minutes passed, before the light finally changed. Jack flicked the bike into gear, and then pulled his hand down on the accelerator, a triumphant yell from Richard, both hands in the air, as they finally got moving. Richard glanced to the right, his heart filling with dread. “JACK!”
“Huh?” Jack glanced round, just in time to see the front of a lorry slam into the bike, crushing his right leg, and sending the two men flying.
There wasn't... pain, as such. A weird, uncomfortable feeling in Jack's right leg was all he felt, along with a strong sense of nausea. He was spinning, and the world seemed to be going at a crawl as he just seemed to float along. During his spin, he saw Richard, or at least another person floating, hit the side of a building. The man's helmet splitting cleanly in half, as the rest of his body caught up, turning into just a crumpled mess, and... quite a bit of red on the now cracked wall. Another half spin, he saw a few open mouths, wide eyes, and some running people, before his view was swung around in a completely different direction, skyward. His back felt really weird now, almost as if someone was pushing on it.
Another spin, and, even though everything else, fear gripped him. Everything sped up again, as Jack smashed into the road, the front of helmet simply collapsing. He was propelled up into the air, just slightly, and then pain stormed through every nerve, every fibre. It felt like he was on fire, as shard after of glass punctured every limb, his eyes wide in fear, as something passed through his chest.
After that, everything was just a blur. There was a lot of shouting, and a lot of blurs moving in front of his eyes, and... amazingly clear, he could hear laughter. Even through the pain, it sent a chill through his body.
”Welcome to death boy.” A deep, chilling, and almost emotionless voice spoke, ever so close to Jack's ear. Everything went cold, his vision went black, and he heard a woman scream, something along the lines of 'he isn't breathing' or the like. Jack couldn't care less, all his attention was on the laughter, the voice echoing in his head.
So, I'm dead then? The single thought whispered it way around the darkness. <******** me, thought it would be more interesting.
”You ain't seen nothing yet kid.”
Then, silence.
There was no way to tell the time here... where ever here was. Jack just sat, on a rock, or something, in the darkness, listening to the screams, shouts, laughter, and other disturbing sounds that floated through the shadows. He simply whistled to himself, looking around, trying to see something, anything, but nothing. Jack could see his own body fine. Perfectly, in fact, but he couldn't even see what he was sitting on. “Oh come on then, let's see... what? God? The Devil? Just hurry up, I got s**t to do.” He sighed, either he was dead, which was unlikely, or he was in a coma, more than likely.
“Humans... so impatient.” The same voice from before, slightly further away now, echoed out. “You have an eternity to waste child, why in such a rush?”
“Because I know I'm not dead. If I was, there wouldn't be anything. I wouldn't remember the crash, the pain. Obviously, you're just a figment of my subconscious, trying to keep me from slipping into death.” Jack smirked, glancing around.
“You couldn't be more wrong, human.” The laughter returned, and then, a man stepped forward. Or, Jack thought it was a man. He could see... snow white hair, white eyes, and white teeth, curled into a grin, but, nothing more. “What if I told you... that right now, you're lying on a... what is it... ah yes, a hospital bed, your blood staining all the sheets?” There was a hint of something in the man's voice. Hate? Anger? Jack couldn't tell. “Ah, but you won't believe me, right? How about I just show you.” There was a clicking sound, then a blinding light.
Then pain. Unimaginable, unbearable. Jack tossed and turned, trying to scream, but no sound. He could hear shouts, a rapid beeping, could see white walls, quick flashes of faces, his mother, and father, then... nothing. He was back in the shadows, struggling for breath.
“Believe me now, pathetic human?”
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