Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Red awoke to the smell of roasted magikarp. He sat up, wincing at the unexpected pain from his previous exertions, and turned. Though he felt like he had only slept for a short time, it was already quite dark, however the height of the surrounding cliffs could have something to do with that. On the shoreline, Nyoromo and the man were sitting by the glowing remains of a fire, over which a makeshift wooden structure held fish, still cooking. Obviously, they had been cooking for some time, as more magikarp was piled on a stone slab nearby, well browned. Even more fish sat on the man's wooden plate, though he paid it no mind and it fell onto the dirt as he cut Nyoromo's fish into pieces small enough for the diminutive creature. When the man saw his dirtied meal, he tossed it into what Red had thought to be a handful of large stones. The objects converged on the food, and Red could make out faint growling.
He rose and walked to the man, who waved towards him as he adjusted a cooking slab. Nyoromo looked up from his fish, which he had set upon with vigor, and bubbled happily as he saw his master. Red sat by him, in front of a second wooden plate, onto which the man was already placing some magikarp. He was handed a knife, but no other utensil. Red attempted to cut his food, but found it difficult without anything to hold it with. When he finally managed to carve off a piece and taste it, he was amazed at the taste. The purity of the glade seemed to have seeped into the fish too. It tasted as nothing Red had eaten before, yet he knew, somehow, that this was how all things should taste. He savored it, but even so it was gone far too soon.
"This is delicious!" he exclaimed as he struggled to cut away more. The man smiled at him.
"I'm glad to hear that. Samuel and I used to always come out here for lunch. We'd fish for hours, though it didn't take that long to catch a meal." He gestured at the tower of fish beside him. "I was the better fisherman, though Samuel cooked them. He was always better at that sort of thing; he loved science, and cooking was like it. He tried to teach me, but I somehow manage to cook out most of the flavor."
"Buh thif ith delifouth!" protested Red, his mouth now full of fish once more.
"I may have gotten a little better over the years, but Samuel's cooking was a league of its own." The man stared at the coals for a minute, and absently tossed some food into the group of creatures. Red looked at them again.
What he had thought were grey rocks in the twilight were actually a collection of dull purple and blue creatures. The purple ones were larger, maybe two feet tall, and had jagged ears and spines, which blended well with the surrounding cliffs' rock. A short, sharp horn protruded from their foreheads, set above two large eyes, which glinted in the firelight. They squeaked quietly, and their rodentine teeth moved a little with every sound.
The blue creatures, which were slightly smaller, also had the spiky ears and backs, but these were less pronounced, as were their horns. They were rounder than their purple companions, but seemed to possess the same basic structure. Their only distinctive characteristic, other than color, were their four whiskers, two to a side.
Seeing Red's interest in the animals, the man spoke. "Are you fond of the nidoran? They never came when Samuel was around. They must like you. They gather whenever I fish here, and they manage to eat all my leftovers, no matter how many magikarp I catch." He fell silent for a moment, studying the pokémon.
"Put out the fire. Quickly. We can't stay here." He looked at the sky, blue above their shadow. The light seemed ominous now.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
She had discovered him entirely by accident. She had been listening to a random video on YouTube (she didn't even remember what it was), and found a video entitled Kiss the Rain in the Related Videos section. Julie thought it was a nice title, so she clicked.
Julie was absolutely floored. Yiruma was skilled, but it was so much more than that. His music seemed to speak to her in the very depths of her soul... a place where no one but God could reach. Or, in this case, God working through His creation of Yiruma's talent.
The mahjongg part... Julie wasn't entirely sure how that even began. But the game was peaceful and relaxing, even as she constantly tried to top her best times. And somehow, whenever she combined the two...
It was summer magic.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Christina stepped apprehensively out of her parents' car. Slowly, she examined the area around her. It was a wooded area on the outskirts of town, about a forty-minute drive from her house. A deep, rushing river flowed next to where she was parked. Christina had almost fallen in, which would have spelled her doom--underneath the raging water were sharp rocks that she knew could crack her skull open.
She pulled out her cell phone. No reception--it figures, she thought bitterly.
A twig snapped behind her, and she whirled around. "Hello, Christina."
Christina almost gagged. It was John's father, dragging a bound and gagged John behind him. "Mr. Cordell? It was you?"
"Yes, Christina. I do apologize for scaring you, but I needed you out here. Where we could be alone," he emphazised.
The hair stood up on the back of Christina's neck. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, Christina, let's not act dumb," Mr. Cordell chuckled evilly and pulling out a gun. "You know perfectly well what I mean."
Christina took an unthinking step backwards, and nearly fell into the river again. "You would kidnap and threaten to kill your own son just to get to me? What is wrong with you‽"
"Don't you understand? Now that we're here, we can be together! Spend the rest of our lives with each other!" Mr. Cornell kept ranting, unaware that his son had slipped his hands free of the ropes that bound him. Suddenly, John tackled his father and grabbed the gun.
"Don't move, Dad," John spat, utter contempt dripping from his voice.
"Oh, John, you wouldn't kill your own father, would you?" Mr. Cornell begged.
Christina stared in horror as John's finger moved closer to the trigger...
Friday, March 26, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
We have rebuilt
That she took from us.
We have toiled.
We have thought.
We have created
What had been
In the darkness
The time has come.
She is to awake
After so long.
Everything is perfect.
No questions remain.
We love her.
Do we forgive?
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Replaces all things but the sky
Where glimmer angels overjoyed
To spread their wings once more and fly
Above a world where things unseen
Walk paths of threads of souls entwined
To silently, in sleep, convene
And leave the hurts of life behind.
While in their dreams the angels dance
And all occurs as they intend,
So that, while in the dream-worlds trance,
The sleeper's thoughts reach happy end.
The youthful magics live again
And banish thoughts of worlds mundane.
Monday, March 22, 2010
"Yes we can. What happened to your determination?"
"It's over; they've won."
"Not while I still draw breath. I have my rights and my freedom and I sure as hell are not going to let myself lose this way. If we lose, everyone falls."
"Just bring it on, I've had enough of this anyway. It's over."
"This is just one battle! We can still win this war. This may very well be our last stand, and if that's the case then so be it! I will stand firm and I will fight to the end. Truth will prevail!"
"Truth never prevails."
"Long term my friend; this isn't over. We've tolerated far too much already and it's about time we made a stand for what we believe."
"Why does this feel like the end? I know full well what this means. You may call this one lost battle, but things will never be the same again."
"I know, but we move on. This is the end; the end of their beginning and it will get much much worse. Let us put an end to this end, let us finish this, we will not fail."
"Life isn't fair."
"What? You just noticed? Of course life isn't fair, it isn't perfect, but that's no excuse for not taking a stand."
"What can I hope to do?"
"Join me, and we will make this a war that will not be forgotten. Let us endure them no longer! Stand firm my brother and we will prevail in the end."
"There isn't much hope."
"Then let us make some."
"I will... I will join you. We cannot let this end now."
"Then together we stand. We will not let this happen again. We will not fail."
"No more... No more... Death by a Thousand Papercuts."
Sunday, March 21, 2010
From where it grants its light to all
Revealing what is as it ought
To be, and that with weary pall.
To those things lacking vibrant life
It sends out soft, caressing rays
That are nepenthe for their strife
And guides to help correct their ways.
Below, the faces one-by-one
Turn up to see what they had missed
Illumined by the light they run
Ahead, for what they always wished
Is true, the world an open book
Where treaures lie for those who look.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
That grants yet a distinctive feel
Of rest and peace, as is its trait,
Befuddles sense to see the real
As but a facet of the gems
Of that which is or soon will be.
The train of thought that always stems
From this transcends Eternity
To see that which will never die,
Though shadows tear and demons reap.
The realization "Ah, 'tis I!"
Brings calm that hastens gentle sleep.
Despite the fear of lurking foe,
Phantasms bright begin their flow.
Friday, March 19, 2010
"Well done, Christina. I can see you're very good at following directions. No one is in the house with you, correct?"
"Yes, no one's here," she replied, fighting the trembling of her hands.
"Good. Now, let's see if you're still good at following directions. Can you get away tonight?"
Christina thought for a moment, then gulped. "I'm not sure. I might have to lie to my parents, and I really don't want to do that..."
"Then you have a decision to make, Christina. Either you lie, or John..." the man chuckled evilly again, "...well, let's just say it won't go very well for him, will it?"
Christina bit her lip. "I can get away."
"Good. I will call again at five o' clock with directions for where you need to drive. Goodbye, Christina." He hung up.
Christina sighed. She was being pushed to the breaking point, but in doing so, had discovered something about herself: she had hidden strength there.
"I'll save you, John. I promise," she whispered into the empty house.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
With motes that twirl in constant dance,
Shines through the window, thin but bold,
And spears the shadows like a lance.
The stone illum'ned casts out a spray
Of lesser beams of greater hue
That, through the threshold, greet the day
By gleaming off the morning dew
To rise again to meet their Lord,
Who forged them from a precious place,
And who, finding their look untoward,
Restores them to their former grace.
The colors join, and fade to white;
A blameless glory, clear and bright.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
And I didn't blame her a bit.
Oh, sure. In court, I didn't show that I was sorry. Even the judge told me, "Your lack of sorrow forces me to impose the death penalty." But none of them, not even my parents, lawyer, brother, or anyone else knew that inside, I was sick over what I'd done.
I'd originally been studying to be a psychologist. I knew I was being delusional when I killed Aiden Hall. But she looked so much like my ex-fiancée, Melanie--the witch that left me at the altar. I was so mad, and in my sick brain, I thought that killing someone who looked like Melanie would give me some release from this pain... But it didn't.
The police reported that it was an anonymous caller that let them know where I was. No one knew that I made the call. I couldn't live with myself, but I couldn't just turn myself in, either. No, what I had done was deserving of death. So I fooled them all, making them think I was some kind of unapologetic monster--when in reality, only the first part was true.
So, here I sit on Death Row, after being haunted for months in that classroom. Waiting for justice to finally prevail...
Monday, March 15, 2010
He stared at me in disbelief.
"I didn't ask for this," I said
"I don't care if you asked for this, it's upon you and you can't ignore it,"
"Yes I can"
"I am not going to sit here and watch you do this!"
I looked up at him.
He began to turn.
"Wait!" I cried
"How am I supposed to do this?"
"I can't tell you that! Only you can tell yourself. I didn't come this far to see you whine and give up near the end! Get on your feet!"
"It's too confusing! I don't know what to do, I don't know how to... I... I don't know..."
"I know, neither do I, but you can't just stand here,"
"Because there's a world out there that does what it wants, and you can only make an impact if you do something. If you just stay here and die all of this will be for nothing. This world doesn't care right now, but you can give it the opportunity to care. I have not come this far to see you quit now!"
I looked up and saw the his face resolving into an emotion I couldn't deny. It wasn't going to change anything but me, yet in the grand scheme of things it mattered. I understood, and I knew in that moment I was not alone. I had love, so what? I had the absolute trust I needed to continue, and at that point it didn't matter.
He looked at me and I knew I was going to make it.
We began to run.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Always clicking, clockwork ticking.
Time has passed, the ticking faster
Yet still slowing and the Master
Recoils from repulsive sight
Organic clockwork, damnéd blight.
Abomination not to be
Forbidden fruit enticingly
Calling out to be embraced
By servants dark. The Light outpaced
Sheds little glow for Hope to see
And as the shroud falls totally
A show of horrors old and strange
Arrives on steeds which laugh, deranged.
The circus tents bloat up and rise
to blot the starshine from our eyes.
Within their folds a wretched thing
Writhes madly in the center ring.
The audience of yesteryear
Returns once more to laugh and jeer.
Throughout the crowd stalk faceless fiends
With sickles sheer and tattered wings
From which flow fear of pain and death
Yet sweet nepenthe is their breath.
And so about them throngs the horde
Forgetting he who was their Lord.
Without the light of thought within,
Succumbing wholly to their sin,
They prance about the piteous being
Who, in his throes, begins to scream
A cry devoid of Hope or Light
That echoes in the hellish night.
It howls until soundlessly
Its soul slips through the agony
Away to where the Light still glows
While at its corpse the twilight shows
The ancient rite begin to wane.
Having done that for which they came,
The faceless fiends away as one
And now the terror has begun,
For lacking that which banished thought
The crowd knows truly what they've wrought.
So weeping they fall in the mud
Dirt moistened by the ritual's blood
And in the pools of sinful wrong,
They lie until their breath is gone.
And only Darkness stalks the night
Fore'er extinguished is the Light.
Above, the Master softly weeps
As underneath a Nothing creeps.
He leaves his world to ever stay
A tomb for life that can't obey.
Within sepulchral shroud of death,
Where Nothing lives to take a breath,
A ticking sound falls to surcease.
Fallen creation's final peace.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
After school, Christina was called into the office. Mrs. White, the elderly secretary, smiled. "You have a telephone call, dear."
"Do you know who it is?"
"No, he didn't give his name."
Christina frowned in confusion, then shrugged and went in the back to pick up the phone. "Hello?"
"Be very careful to do what I say, when I say it," a rasping, grating voice commanded. "Do not speak until I tell you. If you break these two fundamental rules, your precious John," the man sneered, "will never see the light of day again. Say 'yes' if you understand."
Christina gulped. "Y-yes," she stammered in fear.
"Good. Give me your cell phone number."
She wracked her panicking brain for a moment. "555-8376," she whispered, tears choking her vocal cords.
"Please improve your performance, Christina. We wouldn't want to scare poor Mrs. White, now would we? Say 'yes' if you agree."
How does he know my name? Or where I am? "Yes."
"Good. I will call you in a moment. Now, just to ensure your cooperation..." he trailed off menacingly. "Would you like to speak with John? Answer yes or no."
"Yes!" Christina gasped. She struggled to keep her composure so as not to frighten the poor secretary just a few feet away.
"Christina?" John's voice came, but it was slurred and confused-sounding.
"Yes, yes, I'm here," Christina soothed.
A rustling noise came in the background. "Go home." It was John's captor again. "I will call you in five minutes. If you do not answer..." the man chuckled in a sinister tone, "Well, we both know what will happen, don't we? Answer yes or no."
"Yes," Christina whispered again.
"Good. I look forward to speaking with you again." A click sounded. Christina stood at the phone, the dial tone not registering.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
"I've decided to become more involved"
"As my first step I'd like to change the name of th-"
"No" he cut me off
I looked down and saw the knife protruding from my chest.
As blackness overtook me I thought I'd ask one more question.
"Because I like my name"
So much for trying to co-admin a blog with an egotistical maniac...
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Drew Scott glanced around the town he traveled through on his way back to The House. The roads were completely faded, animals infested every livable space possible. Ancient houses had crumbled in on themselves, and the odor of rotting life polluted the air. Scott watched as a creature shook violently and fell to the ground, to weak to move. He saw another with worms coming out of its skin. He was thankful for his air tight transport. He didn't want to know how the people of the past could live in such contaminated conditions, and was definitely glad his draft time was nearly over. He couldn't wait to have his memory cleared of this horrid world his ancient ancestors had lived in. How could anything get moved if things actually had mass? How could people live if they had to learn so much just to afford a home or food? They were almost to The House now. He could see it in the horizon, just a few more days and they would be there. The House was so large it could be seen from hundreds of miles away. It takes a big building to fit a quarter of the world's population into. Good thing they made four of them. Scott thought about how much he preferred his APLUS life. That is the way most people live. Back in the real world where everything was perfect. He didn't like this dangerous, survival of the fittest realm that he knew next to nothing about. He was randomly selected to be taken out of what he thought was life, to this strange place where everyone used to live, where there is limited space and time, and you need to do strange things to live. He had to take years of classes to learn how to move, and how to think. Everything was so confusing and depressing here. He was dying to get his memory cleared and return to his peaceful, perfect, life. He was so tired from collecting vitamins with his team to supply to the residents of The House. He fell asleep, not to wake up for several days. He dreamed, and was unimaginably horrified. He had been warned of sleeping, and how dangerous it could be. He had no control over his body, and strange scenarios that made no sense were taking place, but it all felt so comfortable. It seemed to only last a second when he was forced awake by someone. He got up, refreshed himself on how to walk, and moved back into The House. He still had a few days before being put back to APLUS. He still had to help with bringing more into APLUS. He was brought to the room full of strange, miniature versions of everyone else, and was instructed to push a cart full of them to the newest hall, and put one in each room. He had to hook them up to a food source, a small tube with needle on the end that he stuck into their wrists, and hook up the excretion system, and to the liposuction system. They already had their video cards stuck directly into their eyes, a painless process, he was told. He was finished now. All those years of training and working were over, he was so exhausted, he collapsed on the spot, his body was barely able to handle the small amount of work he had done. He woke up a few days later, after a permanent employee found him lying in the hall. He was lying on the surgeon bed, with several people standing over him with strange objects in his hands. He watched as they moved them towards his eyes, and the most unbelievable pain consumed his body, he did not know how long it lasted, but after a time, he felt the sudden jolt in his brain as it was erased.
Scott opened his eyes. He did not know where he was. It was a strange place. He felt himself doing something. He did not know what. He noticed the images he saw were changing. The strange feeling stopped with the images. He tried to do it again, voluntarily. It took sometime before he manged to move again, with his sight changing as he did. He tried some other kind of movement, and an object moved up into his sight. He observed it. It was a strange thing, a kind of circle shape with five appendages coming out. He flexed them, and they moved, they curled around each other. He held up another one and touched it to the first. The strange sensation of touch surprised him. Something programmed into his mind told him where he was. APLUS, Automated Perfect Life Utopian Simulator. He had no clue what it meant. All he knew was that he liked it. It was effortless, it was never-ending. He could do anything. He could communicate with others, who were apparently just like him. Everything was perfect. The bright colors of the LCD lights that covered his eyes were so fascinating. However, he did not know he had eyes. He did not know that the world he lived in was completely virtual, nor will he ever know. Scott, like most of the world's population, has been captured by APLUS. The virtual world that started out as a game. As the real world grew harder to live in, people noticed how virtual worlds were so much easier. Technology advanced, allowing them to directly control their characters. No one wanted to leave. The world government decided life would be so much easier virtually. The Houses were built. People were moved, minds deleted, video cards installed, lives perfected. This is the future. The future has happened, there is no turning back.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Sorry my post is a few minutes late, Forrest Gump is a longer movie than I thought it was. So I realized that pokemon look really cool when you switch their original head with a Mawile Head, so here are my first three. I plan on adding more over time.
Friday, March 05, 2010
Glad there's a twelve post delay on fanfiction.net (mind you, the Apocalypse isn't fanfiction, but the site still accepts it) so that most of my readers won't get interruptions.
The bell rang, and the two walked out of class holding hands. "Did you have fun last night?" he asked.
Christina grinned as she opened up her locker. "Heck, yeah. I can't believe it's our six-month anniversary!"
John hugged Christina from behind. "Love you," he whispered.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Love you, too," she whispered back. It was the first time they had said it to each other, and so was the happiest day of their lives. But the happy pair didn't notice the man hiding behind a corner, watching them.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
consistent, but random.
or be killed.
There are no second chances;
not this time.
So make a choice,
but you've already made it.
Try to stay alive,
but you know you'll die.
In the end
Look around you,
can't you see?
You can't run.
You can't hide.
Not from this.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Now think about Tilly the whale...
"You like the valley? It's an interesting phenomenon, sure, but it's nothing next to the true Tohjo Mountains. These are just the foothills." He gestured vaguely about with his staff, as if to express a thought without words.
Ahead, a wall came into view. Though it was much shorter than those that surrounded the party, it was far too tall to climb, and Red wondered what the man intended to do. When they drew near, though, the man gave Red's sleeve a faint tug, and turned right towards the cliff. He walked straight to the obstacle and, without slowing, stepped right and disappeared from view.
Red stared for a moment.
The man's wrinkled face appeared in midair where it had vanished. "Are you coming?"
"I, uh..." At a loss for words, Red walked towards the head, and suddenly everything became clear. The man had not disappeared, he had simply stepped behind an outcropping from the main rock face that concealed a fissure just wide enough to pass through. Red stepped around, into the passage, and was surprised to see the man halfway up a trail at least fifty feet long. The ground was rocky and uneven, and Red had difficulty remaining upright. He climbed slowly, and the man was already over the brink before Red had moved more than a few yards.
When he finally reached the top, his panting paused as he gasped. In front of him was an idyllic glade, sheltered by the mountains, but exposed to the noonday sun high above. The ground was coated in moss and some short variety of grass, and a few fruit-laden trees grew around a large, sparkling pond. On a rock spur jutting into the lake sat the man, tying a line onto his staff.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
The man was laughing.
The man made as if to speak, but the laughter precluded any conversation. Still wheezing, he walked right up to the beast, and tugged on one of its claws. Without a sound, the pokémon fell forward onto the ground.
"Haven't you ever seen a kakuna, boy?" This comment struck the man as hilarious, and he doubled over, guffawing.
Red looked at the thing's back, and saw that there was a hole near the center. The inside was dark, but enough light entered for Red to see the other side.
"Of course it's hollow, my boy. It had better be, considering I've slept in it for..." He trailed off, thoughtfully. "I suppose it's been over a decade now. To where have the days of youth flown?"
Red squatted by the shell, and examined it. "You sleep in this?"
"Safest bed I've ever had."
"Safest?" Red, looked up from the cocoon curiously. He had never thought safety was much of a concern when sleeping indoors.
"Of course! Beedrill molts are some of the hardest things in this forest. And this one," He gave it an appreciative kick, "Was certainly well hardened before it evolved."
"But why not use a bed?" Red stood now, looking the man in his sharp gray eyes.
"Well, ever since I- no. I ramble. How would you feel if we waited until we had some nice poliwag soup to talk?"
"No! I mean, sir, that Nyoromo - the poliwag - isn't for eating. He's my... helper."
"Poli!" Nyoromo wriggled in Red's grip at the mention of his name.
"Oh, why didn't you say so, boy?" The man began to push the papers back into the cabinet.
"We shall have to catch breakfast then. You may assist me."
"Well, let's be off. We have far too much to do, and your company, though pleasant, has simply wasted much of the time we had." The man took his staff from behind the door, and dragged a vainly protesting Red out of the house with him.
Monday, March 01, 2010
"I have the perfect recipe in my cabinet, I'll just go grab that." The man walked off through the door, still talking. "It's been a while, but poliwag has always..."
Red watched him go, and when he heard the man's talking grow as distant as could be expected in the humble dwelling, he hurried to leave. His hand, slimy from his pokémon's flesh, slipped a few times before getting a good grip on the handle. He turned it, but it refused to move more than an inch. Red, remembering the key in the man's pocket, sighed, bracing himself for another brush with madness. He turned and stepped into the doorway to the back room of the house.
The old man was rummaging through papers on the ground. The papers appeared to have come from a cabinet that had fallen on its side and had gouges on every surface. But for the cabinet, the room was empty. Red stepped forward, into the room, and gasped.
In a closet the wall had concealed when he was in the doorway was a terrifying pokémon. It was as tall as a man, if not taller, and had two triangular eyes set on its dome-like head. Below the eyes was a sharp pointed thing Red thought might be a mouth. The body below that was segmented, and the sections seemed to overlap. Halfway down its length were extended two arms with viciously curved claws. The entire thing was a dull yellow, from its round head to the point on which it rested, save its eyes, which were black and unfeeling. These awful things seemed fixated on the distracted man.
"Look out!" cried Red. The man turned, and saw Red. Following his gaze, his eyes slowly moved to the pokémon in the closet. A strange look came over his face.
For a second, nothing moved.