Well, I suppose this is a little taste of my older writing skill ^^; It was a story me and my friend typed up together for English class. The last part can be found in the journal of Lycanthrope Instinct.
There were originally indents with every paragraph, but Gaia seems to take that away so it will look a little crammed. Though please enjoy.
There were originally indents with every paragraph, but Gaia seems to take that away so it will look a little crammed. Though please enjoy.
Corruption
I observed the wounds with horror. My hands inched closer, eyes wary, and I tried to stroke the threads needled through her flesh. Each eye socket was delicately sealed shut with bruises beneath them, and her mouth, which had been threaded closed as well, dribbled blood from the corners. Once again, Andrea swatted my hand away in objection, turned her head, and groaned in pain. My stomach had been dealt a heavy blow before, but now I thirsted to vomit. I gagged, but I did not throw up, instead I held my hand to my lips in prevention. I had only realized, after a moment of watching my friend that I was trembling.
The last time I could recall shivering with fear was when I had first awoken in this prison. Though vague, my memory retold the story before we appeared in the depths of our fears, where concrete walls blended with mold and veered off into long, shadowed corridors. The four of us had only begun our party then, and already we were intoxicated: alcohol dribbling from our mouths and friends dabbing us clumsily with paper towels. We had cackled at jokes, at our own self-pity, and then we were blinded by the unconsciousness that took hold of us like two pairs of ice-cold hands. We awoke in our nightmare the next day; someone had placed us in here. We wondered if they were watching, laughing, playing some sort of sick and twisted game. But my worries were gone at the moment.
"Who did this to you, Andy?" I could not hold back my tears, and they crawled down my cheeks and dripped off my jaw.
I only got an unsettling moan for a response, which shook my bones.
"I promise we will escape, Andy. I'll take you to a doctor, and then we can see our parents. We will sleep over at each others houses, and eat ice cream until our bellies ache."
Then I tried to smile, but goose pimples had risen on my skin. I was cold, and scared, and wet from tears. My promise may end up a broken one, and I felt a bubbling hole where my heart should be. Struggling to pull myself from the shocked stupor I was in, I staggered to my feet, sniffling and clearing my throat, before bundling my fears in a blanket and heaving them to the back of my mind.
I have to find Jesse, I thought, and turned on my heel after telling Andrea to wait for my return. She didn't complain, or object. She sat in silence, making no groans or moans, or scratches on the wall, which had previously stubbed her fingernails to the point of bleeding. Fright had taken over me. I scurried out of the bathroom, grateful to leave the grim on the used-to-be ivory tiles, the sink that was filled with murky water, and the toilet that did not flush or lead anywhere. We would have tried to escape through the sewer if there had been one.
The walls frightened me; they lurked and sung to each other, and even spilled water from their ceiling. I slipped on puddles, touched slim in the crevices of a few missing stones, which looked to be created by a hammer and an iron bar. Shadows lingered in corners, untouched by the flickering lights overhead that were cased in steel bars, and they tried to lure me in, like a fish. I ignored them, turned a corner, and slipped into the chamber.
That familiar table caught my eye, and distracted me with its radiantly polished top. It was marble, and flat, and carried upon it a box. The chamber, as the four of us refereed to it as, was the center piece to the maze and broke off into five different pathways, each leading to a spot where we had awoken, separated. It was large with a high ceiling, and the light did not falter here. It was the heaven to our hell, and I was surprised to see that Jesse, or Danny was not around. They should be sitting around the edge of the table and munching on the stale cereal - which happened to be our only food, placed inside the box for us to find, a long with a few other items: a knife, needle and thread, and a gun that contained one bullet. They should be arguing about that steel door we could not open; their voices should be scaring away the mice.
All I heard was silence, other then that eerie drip from when the walls cried. I scrambled forward, in search for Jesse, and rushed into the corridor at my left. It was darker here, and shadows grew without fright of being diminished. A few of the light bulbs had burned out, leaving sections of black. Once again, I stumbled and slipped, and grabbed onto slimy muck on the walls. It smelled rotten. But I hadn't been expecting to find someone so early.
Hands grabbed me, bruising my flesh, and swinging me hard against the concrete wall. His breath was hot and rough and jagged against my neck. I tried to struggle and yell, but my mouth was forced shut by a sweaty palm. I bit down, and my teeth drew blood from the skin. It tasted salty. He instantly forced me away from him, and I tumbled to the ground, my breath escaping my lungs quicker then I had wanted. I was gasping, and groaning, and before I could react a foot crushed down against my spine. Over my pain, I had somehow managed to turn on my back and stare at my attacker; my mind was spinning.
"Danny…?"
It was hard to speak, and it seemed as if my words had come out a blur. I received no answer. My friend had chosen aggression, for a reason I was oblivious too. Danny, the boy who had haunted my dreams and had kissed my lips so long ago, the boy whose brown hair was silky to the touch, his voice like honey, was now an enemy? I was losing, terribly. This battle was one-sided.
His hands clutched at the collar of my shirt, and he raised me onto my feet. My back, I had felt, was slammed rough and hard against the wall, its dampness seeping through my shirt. His brow was layered with sweat, and his jaw was tight, as if he were taking revenge on someone who had just massacred his entire family. I choked back my tears with fear, and I strained to move. But my body would not obey.
"Danny, what are you doing?" My voice was muffled and clogged, and my eyelids were heavy with the sting on my skin.
"Getting revenge. How could you reject me, Laeya?" He said, cold and bitter. .
"I didn't!" I had told him over and over again, the reason being so simple. "I was having trouble with my mother's death!"
"You pushed me away. All I ever tried to do was help you."
"Oh Danny-"
"-I don't need your sympathy!" He screamed in my face. I shied away from his face and tried to struggle against his iron grip on my collar. He would not let me move, not even an inch. "But now look, we're alone. Pity isn't it?"
A few seconds had past before his words sunk in, and then they hit me like a powerful sledgehammer to my stomach. My face contorted in surprise and a fearful grimace. My hands tightened and attempted yet again to free myself.
"You're insane, Danny!"
"Am I?"
Then his lips crushed against mine. I screamed into his mouth, but he would not stop. I thrashed and kicked, and all he did was force me to the ground. The room spun, and the darkness licked at my hands. I was powerless against him. It was cold, and something sticky spread over my head at an increasing rate. The smell of copper told me it was blood; my head must have split from impact. Was this the reason for my weakness?
Danny's breath was against my neck again, skittering down my back like spiders. I pleaded him to stop, or I thought did. Sometimes I wondered if my mind was just screaming the words, or if I was actually speaking them, instead of mumbling. My mind strained to focus but could not. What would happen to Andrea or Jesse if they fell victim to Danny's insanity? Everything disoriented into a haze. Could he have done that to Andrea?
It took me awhile to come back. After a few minutes I noticed Jesse kneeling beside me. His hand was at my back, propping me up, and his face was full of concern. I winced. His shirt was torn and soaked with blood and was bundled beside him. I felt for the back of my head, and sighed in relief when I found the wound clean.
"Laeya, are you okay?" He asked.
I nodded in response, and let my eyes wander. They rested upon a lump, clothed in shadows and stashed in the corner as if it had belonged down here its whole life. A strange liquid formed around it, and I craned my neck and squinted to get a better view. Jesse's fingers tensed and held my wet shirt tight. It was Danny's body huddled in the corner, and I gasped at realization. A blow to his head had left his skull cracked, a rock lay a little farther away, stained with blood, and tossed as if it had been on fire.
Jesse explained that he had come just in the knick of time, Danny was like an animal. A deep sense of depression took hold of me, and weighed me down as if Earth was suddenly on my shoulders. This feeling had been in my body since my mother's death, but only now did it reveal its true harm. Yet I had no time to cry, not now. I was reminded of someone else, and I was quick in telling Jesse about Andrea. We scrambled after that, worried and breathing heavy, racing off in the direction of the bathroom. Only when I had reached it, I had noticed something different about the room. It was not familiar anymore.
Red blotches scattered the walls. Except as I strained to get a better picture, they were not blotches at all. Bloody handprints danced around the room, each dripping luridly - they were fresh. I gasped; my hand clamped shut around my mouth when my eyes rested upon Andrea. I thought I could have made it in time, but other forces were at work here. Her throat was carved in a delicate line, clean and neat. The knife lay beside her, cowering in a puddle of blood.
I didn't have time to see Jesse's face, but I had heard his cry. It sounded jagged, and gnawed at my heart. Before I had drifted into unconsciousness, my eyes gave my friend one last farewell. I was out before I knew it.
The last time I could recall shivering with fear was when I had first awoken in this prison. Though vague, my memory retold the story before we appeared in the depths of our fears, where concrete walls blended with mold and veered off into long, shadowed corridors. The four of us had only begun our party then, and already we were intoxicated: alcohol dribbling from our mouths and friends dabbing us clumsily with paper towels. We had cackled at jokes, at our own self-pity, and then we were blinded by the unconsciousness that took hold of us like two pairs of ice-cold hands. We awoke in our nightmare the next day; someone had placed us in here. We wondered if they were watching, laughing, playing some sort of sick and twisted game. But my worries were gone at the moment.
"Who did this to you, Andy?" I could not hold back my tears, and they crawled down my cheeks and dripped off my jaw.
I only got an unsettling moan for a response, which shook my bones.
"I promise we will escape, Andy. I'll take you to a doctor, and then we can see our parents. We will sleep over at each others houses, and eat ice cream until our bellies ache."
Then I tried to smile, but goose pimples had risen on my skin. I was cold, and scared, and wet from tears. My promise may end up a broken one, and I felt a bubbling hole where my heart should be. Struggling to pull myself from the shocked stupor I was in, I staggered to my feet, sniffling and clearing my throat, before bundling my fears in a blanket and heaving them to the back of my mind.
I have to find Jesse, I thought, and turned on my heel after telling Andrea to wait for my return. She didn't complain, or object. She sat in silence, making no groans or moans, or scratches on the wall, which had previously stubbed her fingernails to the point of bleeding. Fright had taken over me. I scurried out of the bathroom, grateful to leave the grim on the used-to-be ivory tiles, the sink that was filled with murky water, and the toilet that did not flush or lead anywhere. We would have tried to escape through the sewer if there had been one.
The walls frightened me; they lurked and sung to each other, and even spilled water from their ceiling. I slipped on puddles, touched slim in the crevices of a few missing stones, which looked to be created by a hammer and an iron bar. Shadows lingered in corners, untouched by the flickering lights overhead that were cased in steel bars, and they tried to lure me in, like a fish. I ignored them, turned a corner, and slipped into the chamber.
That familiar table caught my eye, and distracted me with its radiantly polished top. It was marble, and flat, and carried upon it a box. The chamber, as the four of us refereed to it as, was the center piece to the maze and broke off into five different pathways, each leading to a spot where we had awoken, separated. It was large with a high ceiling, and the light did not falter here. It was the heaven to our hell, and I was surprised to see that Jesse, or Danny was not around. They should be sitting around the edge of the table and munching on the stale cereal - which happened to be our only food, placed inside the box for us to find, a long with a few other items: a knife, needle and thread, and a gun that contained one bullet. They should be arguing about that steel door we could not open; their voices should be scaring away the mice.
All I heard was silence, other then that eerie drip from when the walls cried. I scrambled forward, in search for Jesse, and rushed into the corridor at my left. It was darker here, and shadows grew without fright of being diminished. A few of the light bulbs had burned out, leaving sections of black. Once again, I stumbled and slipped, and grabbed onto slimy muck on the walls. It smelled rotten. But I hadn't been expecting to find someone so early.
Hands grabbed me, bruising my flesh, and swinging me hard against the concrete wall. His breath was hot and rough and jagged against my neck. I tried to struggle and yell, but my mouth was forced shut by a sweaty palm. I bit down, and my teeth drew blood from the skin. It tasted salty. He instantly forced me away from him, and I tumbled to the ground, my breath escaping my lungs quicker then I had wanted. I was gasping, and groaning, and before I could react a foot crushed down against my spine. Over my pain, I had somehow managed to turn on my back and stare at my attacker; my mind was spinning.
"Danny…?"
It was hard to speak, and it seemed as if my words had come out a blur. I received no answer. My friend had chosen aggression, for a reason I was oblivious too. Danny, the boy who had haunted my dreams and had kissed my lips so long ago, the boy whose brown hair was silky to the touch, his voice like honey, was now an enemy? I was losing, terribly. This battle was one-sided.
His hands clutched at the collar of my shirt, and he raised me onto my feet. My back, I had felt, was slammed rough and hard against the wall, its dampness seeping through my shirt. His brow was layered with sweat, and his jaw was tight, as if he were taking revenge on someone who had just massacred his entire family. I choked back my tears with fear, and I strained to move. But my body would not obey.
"Danny, what are you doing?" My voice was muffled and clogged, and my eyelids were heavy with the sting on my skin.
"Getting revenge. How could you reject me, Laeya?" He said, cold and bitter. .
"I didn't!" I had told him over and over again, the reason being so simple. "I was having trouble with my mother's death!"
"You pushed me away. All I ever tried to do was help you."
"Oh Danny-"
"-I don't need your sympathy!" He screamed in my face. I shied away from his face and tried to struggle against his iron grip on my collar. He would not let me move, not even an inch. "But now look, we're alone. Pity isn't it?"
A few seconds had past before his words sunk in, and then they hit me like a powerful sledgehammer to my stomach. My face contorted in surprise and a fearful grimace. My hands tightened and attempted yet again to free myself.
"You're insane, Danny!"
"Am I?"
Then his lips crushed against mine. I screamed into his mouth, but he would not stop. I thrashed and kicked, and all he did was force me to the ground. The room spun, and the darkness licked at my hands. I was powerless against him. It was cold, and something sticky spread over my head at an increasing rate. The smell of copper told me it was blood; my head must have split from impact. Was this the reason for my weakness?
Danny's breath was against my neck again, skittering down my back like spiders. I pleaded him to stop, or I thought did. Sometimes I wondered if my mind was just screaming the words, or if I was actually speaking them, instead of mumbling. My mind strained to focus but could not. What would happen to Andrea or Jesse if they fell victim to Danny's insanity? Everything disoriented into a haze. Could he have done that to Andrea?
It took me awhile to come back. After a few minutes I noticed Jesse kneeling beside me. His hand was at my back, propping me up, and his face was full of concern. I winced. His shirt was torn and soaked with blood and was bundled beside him. I felt for the back of my head, and sighed in relief when I found the wound clean.
"Laeya, are you okay?" He asked.
I nodded in response, and let my eyes wander. They rested upon a lump, clothed in shadows and stashed in the corner as if it had belonged down here its whole life. A strange liquid formed around it, and I craned my neck and squinted to get a better view. Jesse's fingers tensed and held my wet shirt tight. It was Danny's body huddled in the corner, and I gasped at realization. A blow to his head had left his skull cracked, a rock lay a little farther away, stained with blood, and tossed as if it had been on fire.
Jesse explained that he had come just in the knick of time, Danny was like an animal. A deep sense of depression took hold of me, and weighed me down as if Earth was suddenly on my shoulders. This feeling had been in my body since my mother's death, but only now did it reveal its true harm. Yet I had no time to cry, not now. I was reminded of someone else, and I was quick in telling Jesse about Andrea. We scrambled after that, worried and breathing heavy, racing off in the direction of the bathroom. Only when I had reached it, I had noticed something different about the room. It was not familiar anymore.
Red blotches scattered the walls. Except as I strained to get a better picture, they were not blotches at all. Bloody handprints danced around the room, each dripping luridly - they were fresh. I gasped; my hand clamped shut around my mouth when my eyes rested upon Andrea. I thought I could have made it in time, but other forces were at work here. Her throat was carved in a delicate line, clean and neat. The knife lay beside her, cowering in a puddle of blood.
I didn't have time to see Jesse's face, but I had heard his cry. It sounded jagged, and gnawed at my heart. Before I had drifted into unconsciousness, my eyes gave my friend one last farewell. I was out before I knew it.
