Rolling in the Deep

Single-writer in-character stories and journals.
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Nick Bowstrong
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Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

It was an odd sensation - dying.

He didn't remember the first time, when Chad had murdered him. That was all just a bit of a nightmare blur, random flashes of sounds, colours and emotions that were all jumbled up in his head and which made no sense at all. This time however, was different.

There had been pain, but barely any noise. The colours and decor of the room he'd been sleeping in had all meshed together and become an oozing, swirling mass of red behind his eyes. It was as if his blood had come alive and enveloped him until all that existed was blood. It smothered him, dragged him under - but he couldn't fight it. It was as if his body knew it was what had to be done and so it lay there and sunk below to be encompassed in that warm, red goo.

At first there was a roaring noise, a little like the roar of the wind at sea as the waves came crashing down to make an almost natural white noise that filtered into every crevice of your mind. And as this subsided and lessened, the tinkling strains of music could be heard. Little by little, the crashing waves and roaring winds were replaced by notes that repeated one after the other as if on some demonic loop. The noise filled his mind with those loud, tinny notes of the bastarding elevator music.

There was almost a 'bump' as he seemed to land, the thick red goo dissipating as he blinked in habit - trying to rid himself of the darkness. The warmth he'd felt from that all encapsulating mass soon vanished and he was left cold and shivering in the dark. His mind hadn't entirely caught up with what exactly had happened and panic was beginning to set in. He lifted his hand to his face to check he had eyes still, but while he definitely did - the feeling was a strange one when his fingers met his face. So much so that he didn’t want to linger on it and quickly removed his hand to his knees.

He let his hand move over his naked body, getting that weird sensation as he touched along his body as if it were only half there. A shiver ran through him at it, but he persevered. He let his fingers roam over every inch of his body, and while he could feel the wounds that were still there, that he was missing an arm and a leg below the knee - he felt no pain. His curiosity got the better of him and he slipped his fingers into one of the wounds on his torso right up to his knuckle and felt around. It was perhaps one of the strangest experiences he’d ever had - tickling his own stomach - but it was also weird and made him shiver violently and dry retch on the ground beside him.

He’d had enough of this, and that elevator music - while quieter - was still there in the back of his head. It looped over and over and over as if it’s sole purpose was to try and drive him insane. But enough was enough. He rolled over onto his knees and used his remaining hand to help him crawl forwards inch by inch, patting the ground before and beneath him as he went. He knew that if he remained in this darkness and with this music, then he would slowly begin to rock back and forth in a little huddled ball of madness. And he had too many questions to succumb to that yet.

The ground under his hand and knees felt like concrete, with little stones and jagged ‘bits’ strewn all over it. He could feel them pressing against his skin, cutting into him - but still there was no pain to be had. His hand brushed up against something solid, something substantial and as he walked his hand up it, his fingertips told him it was old brick. He’d found a wall! Smiling he edged his way sideways, sliding his hand along the wall little by little until there was a risen edge and then a surface change. Frowning, he let his fingertips play down and over the surface until once again it came into contact with another material. He grinned - it was a door and this was it’s handle. Turning it, he pulled it back - hard and quick - and then blinked as light suddenly poured in and blinded him so that he fell back trying to cover his eyes from the sudden change in light level.
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Nick Bowstrong
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Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

Slowly he removed his hand from his eyes and blinked to allow his vision to adjust to the new brightness. However as he looked around at the world beyond the door his mouth hung open in shock as his worst fears were confirmed. This hadn't been a bad dream - this was real - this was the Shadow Realm.

His eyes scanned the broken down city, trying to focus on the buildings, the trees, the flowers. But everything seemed to swim at the edges as if he was looking at them through a heat wave. He felt quite dizzy so looked down to the ground again, the one thing that didn't seem to be constantly fuzzy and moving. Luckily for him, there was an old piece of wood lying on the ground. It was all bent out of shape and twisted, gnarled with age. To be honest - it appealed to Nick because the way it looked was the way he felt. He picked it up and used it like a crutch to haul himself to his foot, into a standing position.

Slowly he hobbled his way forwards, looking back to see he'd been in a building that was half collapsed. There was no second floor anymore and a large pile of rubble covered the windows and didn't let in any light - which was why it had been so dark and black within. However it also shivered around the edges so he hastily looked away and continued to hobble onwards.

Now and again he glanced up and looked around to check where he was going and to see what was around him. The place gave him the creeps. There was no colour at all unless you counted varying shades of grey, black and white as colour. The 'greenery' was nothing more than shrivelled leaves and dried flower heads - but again these had all been sucked dry of their moisture and colour. The place was eerily quiet as well. There were no noises you would normally find in a city to indicate life. No hustle and bustle. No birds. No traffic. No wind to rustle leaves. No nothing. It was as if a blanket had been laid over his ears until the silence was almost deafening. The silence that was - except for the music tinkling away in his mind. Over and over and over.

Then he saw it. Movement. He hurried to the nearest wall and pressed himself to it. He peered around the corner to look at the thing that was moving and he felt a cold chill run through his body. It was something, a person. And yet - it wasn't. It was no more than the outline of a person that seemed to ripple like your own reflection would if you looked into a pond. He slowly made his way over to it, carefully so as not to scare it off. It seemed to turn and look at him - though you couldn't tell as there were no features, no definition. For all he knew he was looking at the back of it's head.

They seemed to dance with one another. An awkward circling, stepping dance as they regarded one another. What Nick didn't realise was that he was stepping in time to the music in his head in this macabre dance of death between the pair. He felt a draw to it, as if he needed to embrace it and feed from it. He could feel the need building within him the longer he was around it. However he was wary of it, not sure of his own feelings and emotions as he paced around and around. Did he really need it? Or was it simply trying to lull him into a false sense of security to draw him in to then do unspeakable things to this his..... soul?

Dammit to hell, for I know I already am!

He growled, his voice seeming otherworldly in this strange silent place, and lunged for it. He lifted his stick and ran it through the strange shadowey outline before him before falling onto it with fangs and stump extended to complete his embrace of death.
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Nick Bowstrong
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Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

He came too, lying flat on his back and staring up at the.... sky? The roof? He frowned and focussed his eyes directly upwards but he couldn't work out what was going on up there. This realm seemed to sap any logical thoughts from your head, just as it sucked the energy from your body. He felt so tired, so sluggish and he had no idea how long he'd been here. One minute it felt like seconds, then the next it felt like years. His head was all over the place but one thing remained constant. The tune played on.

He looked around, suddenly remembering that he'd been trying to.... well, he wasn't sure what he'd been trying to do to be honest to that strange thing. But whatever it was - it was gone, and that longing inside him had subsided and was easily ignored. Once more he dragged himself to his feet and began to walk, not entirely sure why or where he was going but surely it was better than staying still in the one spot.

The silence continued on - forever. Only the shuffling of his foot and branch could be heard - or was it just the branch he could hear? He didn't like the thought of his foot not being really there, not making a noise and not really taking a step - so he ignored that fact and convinced himself that there were two steps and two noises. One branch step and one footstep. However his mind tried to take him over, tried to reason with him and tried to convince him that perhaps if he were a ghost and without a body that maybe he could float and fly. But again, this was too much for the man to take - so to drown out those thoughts he began to hum the tune in his head out loud. The madness of song was better than the madness of convincing yourself you could fly and jumping off a building. Wasn't it?

So engrossed in humming his little tune and trying to switch his mind off was he, that he didn't realise another of those creepy assed outlines had snuck up on him. This one however reached out for him instead of doing the circle dance and all Nick could do was stand and stare in fear and anticipation as his mind crept through the veil of song to ask what would happen if you were killed here in the shadow realm and was there a second realm you went to like in that film Inception. What would happen if he tumbled all the way down to the lowest level? Would he ever make it out again? What was down there? Cause in the film, it was their happiest place, their deepest desires where they could have anything. Perhaps that was where he should head....

His mind was snapped from it's wanderings as the thing's outstretched body part touched what would have been his shoulder and spoke in a strange, detached voice that sounded remarkabley like Silver....

Well well would you look at that. What happened? Hear of me dying and the thought of existing without me around got to much for you?

Nick continued to just stand and stare as the apparition wandered off again, without waiting for an answer - though none came to Nick's mind at that moment. Nick wondered how Silver had known it was him, as Silver had appeared similar to the thing before that Nick had - maybe - killed? Perhaps the man had lost his marbles and was simply going around all the spirits saying the same thing. After all - he'd not said Nick's name so it was possible.

Nick tried not to think about it - his mind was rather quickly filling with an awful lot of crap. Thoughts and theories that needed tested. Wonderings about this place ad what else might be out there. Who was doing what in his absence to avenge what had been done to him. Even if anyone at all gave a damn that he'd been murdered in his bed by the coward Chad's henchmen. His face screwed up in absolute fury as he thought about that piece of **** sire he'd been lumbered with. The man would pay one of these days - for every single thing he'd ever done to Nick. And Nick was going to enjoy every moment of it!

Quickly hobbling off in the opposite direction the Silver ghost had gone in, Nick decided to hunt down some more of the wibbly ghosts - because they made him pass out after feeding on them. And passing out into nothingness was a good thing right now to try and keep hold of his mind and not lose it with thoughts of the 'topside' world.
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Nick Bowstrong
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Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

He'd attacked and killed a few of the wibbly ghosts now, and yet more time had passed. He didn't even know if time here was the time 'upstairs' because he was convinced he'd been here more than just one day and yet the 'sky' hadn't changed in the slightest. It was as if there was no sun, no moon, just this insipid light that never changed from grey. He'd taken for granted all the colours there were in the world and had even decorated his home in greys. After this - he wasn't sure if he'd be able to set foot inside there for a while, he was truely getting sick of the grey, colourless world he was inhabiting.

He found a crumbled wall and sat down for a moment, his energy constantly sapped from just being here. Though he wondered if perhaps the last wibbly ghost hadn't had something to do with it. That one hadn't left him satisfied as the others had when it vanished. That one had left him craving more - as if it had taken something from him instead of giving it to him. This place was playing tricks with his mind and he smacked his parched lips together wondering if there was anywhere to get a drink from.

As he looked around, he noticed that the building in front of him was as out of focus as the rest of them. However in the centre of it, there was an area that seemed..... out of focus in a different way. Frowning he made his way over to it, still hobbling along with his stick, to investigate further. He found that it wasn't right up against the building, but that he could actually walk around it. It was almost shimmering as it hovered in mid air, waving back and forth and hard to see from some angles. It reminded Nick of the crack in the wall from the recent Dr Who series he'd watched. He wasn't sure if everyone saw it in this way, or if that's just how his mind was projecting it here. As Nick stepped forwards and into it in curiosity he felt a tugging behind his belly button as if it wanted to take him somewhere but couldn't. He stood there and his mind cleared a little and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not - but he would swear until he was blue in the face that he felt the slightest of breezes coming from it.

He stepped back and grinned in glee. This must be one of those weak spots in the realm where those strong enough could escape and return to 'life'. A small frustrated growl rumbled from his chest and made him jump at the sudden noise in this silent place. He wasn't strong enough to get out. The tugging in his stomach was the realm trying to expel him and failing. How could he become stronger?! What the hell did he need to do? His mouth opened and he roared in frustration.

Just ******* tell me! What do I need to do to leave this damnable place?!!!

His voice echoed from building to building, repeating his question back to him as if the place were mocking him. Defeated, exhausted and frustrated - he stabbed the ground with his stick only to hear a sickening crack right before he tumbled to a heap on the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust to take his place where he'd been standing while the bottom half of his stick flew off and away, having snapped in half.

Nick didn't even try to get up. He simply lay there and wept. Giving up for now.
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Nick Bowstrong
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Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

The tune was so loud in his head, as he lay there weeping, that he nearly missed the quiet voice that filtered in through the mess of his jumbled thoughts to whisper into his mind. He immediately stopped, suppressed the music as best he could and tried to concentrate on the message. It wasn't a voice he recognised, but it was from someone he did.

Kaitlyn asked me to send this message. She say's she is truly sorry and she loves you

It was an odd sort of message for her to send. Whatever could she have been truely sorry about? There wasn't anything she could have done. He wasn't at the Bowstrong home when it happened. It didn't sound like the sort of sorry you sent as a condolences - sorry you're dead. It seemed as if there were maybe more too it. He sat pondering it for a moment, but his conspiracy theories were cut short before any could come to a conclusion by another voice in his mind.

This one he did recognise, and he was surprised by it - immensely. A small smile broke over his face as he listened, tears once more welling in his eyes at the thoughtfullness of the man.

Come back soon, Nick.

Vaughn. His grandchilde by blood. He loved the funny little man in his own way - but he'd never been able to show it to him properly because he'd been told to stay away from him and steer clear by 'that woman'. She claimed him as her own long before Micah had betrayed him and taken to her side and had made it very clear what she would do if Nick were to even try and talk to Vaughn too much. It was the same with Mal, though his feelings for Mal were a little more...... complicated.

He frowned deeper this time, the thoughts of the world 'upstairs' once again permeating every crevice of his mind. He felt his fist clenching by his side before it slammed into the earth below him. He knew he'd been betrayed, knew that people he'd trusted hadn't done a damn thing to help him. He was convinced that others knew of what was to happen and had chosen to sit idley by and wach him die without even a word of warning to him. A head's up of the mere possibility of what was to come would have sufficed - instead, every single one of them had stayed silent and held their water. And every single one of them was going to pay. Yes.... he'd find a way to make them all pay - one way or another..

I'm sorry, Nick, That I couldn't help you. Please come back? Please?

He sat up, groaning softly as not only the words came through but the emotion behind them. He had a stronger connection with Leiren than either of the first two voices as she'd invaded his brain so many times before in one way or another. And as such - her message was the loudest, the clearest and carried with it the emotion behind the words. She needed him. He'd promised to be there for her, protect her and keep her safe. And he couldn't do that here. He waited for a few moments to see if any more voices invaded his brain - expecting at least another 3 messages to arrive.... but nothing ever came. Not even one whispered word. No matter how long he waited.

He rolled onto his knees again and began to drag himself along the ground. He was convinced the wibbly ghosts held the key to escape so he had to find some more of them. Had to gain whatever it was - that secret thing they held that made him feel so good he passed out. But he was so tired. So weak. So exhausted. Surely just lying here and napping wouldn't be a bad thing would it? To let the music wrap him in the tinny sounds he was humming sub consciously and let those thoughts of death and destruction run wild for a moment? There were no humans here, no bounty. So who cared if he lost it? Who REALLY cared and gave a damn..........
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Nick Bowstrong
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Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

He was convinced that he'd been crawling around this decayed, grey city for months and he'd not seen a single wibbly ghost for a while now. He'd come across a few more of those Dr Who esque cracks, and the pull he'd felt on him had been much stronger after every wibbly ghost he'd found - but he was still here. He collapsed down and cackled a little insanely, rolling over onto his back to look up at the muted 'sky' while lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers as if casting a spell like a bad magician. He thought back to the Dr Who series, how that crack had appeared all over the universe, when the idea popped into his head that there was actually a crack in him where all his energy and thought processes were escaping too. Another manic giggle escaped his cracked lips, bouncing off the walls in the eeriest of ways as he finally gave up his control and just let himself go.

It was like being punched in the face. The strength of all the emotions and thoughts he'd been holding at bay came rushing forwards into the forefront of his mind. He envisioned the crack in his mind and tried to push them all out - but it didn't work and his plan failed. Instead, his back arched up to the sky and his head curled back against the ground and he let out a very primal, animalistic roar that shook the buildings and brought down some more masonry. Slowly he relaxed back down, a wild and creepy grin on his face, and remembered the words to the damn tune that was now blasting out in his head. Opening his mouth, the deep rich baritone voice filled the night air to sing a line or two along with the music. However each time he did, memories and thoughts would rear their ugly heads and drag him down to them and away from the music.

There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fevered pitch and it's bringing me out the dark.


Nix flashed into his mind. Her deranged smile on her lips as she swung her sword at him to slice and dice him. She opened his eyes, showed him there were women out there with a backbone. Showed him that there were some who could hold themselves with grace and decorum while getting what they wanted - no matter what that meant. His face cracked into a grin as he was filled with the emotion of love, remembering how it was then that he'd realised he'd fallen for her in every way possible. It was then that he'd decided she would be his forever, however he could.

Finally, I can see you crystal clear,
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your **** bare


Micah flashed into his mind and that grin and love disappeared to be replaced with a growl as hatred filled him. He'd told the man over and over that his wife was a piece of ****. Told him how she would play him, how she would try to take his sire's life one of these nights - after she'd already taken his family. She'd said as much many times over but the man had been blinded by the woman's skills with her ****. He'd not listened, not believed him - and look what had happened. Everything had come true. The man was weak as Nick had suspected, he saw that now. He was no killer, he was ruled by his emotions and his dick - He was simply an allurist wannabe.

Baby, I have no story to be told,
But I've heard one on you and I'm gonna make your head burn,
Think of me in the depths of your despair,
Making a home down there as mine sure won't be shared,


He cackled at those words, as Kaitlyn joined Micah in his mind - and the conspiracy theories rose their ugly heads again. Why was her message phrased as it had been? Had she had a hand in his killing? Had she waited until he was dead to go crawling back to Silver? Paranoia was an ugly emotion and he sneered softly to himself as thoughts of betrayal filled his mind. However he thought over the words some more and cackled once more. He knew what he could do. He could hurt them all in one go..... It was so simple. He just had to reveal their secret. He would tell Stefano first - tell him he was saving him the hurt and pain down the road of discovering how his fiance was. He would probably lose the man, and it would scar him deeply if he did because despite their lack of communication - Nick loved him. But the man needed to know that his fiance wasn't only sleeping with him. Then he'd tell 'It', tell her the things he imagined Micah had been doing to Kait. He knew there was more there, knew they were in a relationship where the feelings for one another ran deep - but he had no proof. He didn't need it, he'd plant the seed and watch it grow.

A loud cackle rose to a crescendo as he made his plan. Yes. It's what he'd do. If he returned.... No, when he returned - if nothing had been done to avenge his death. If Micah was still with 'it'. If life had simply gone on as if he'd never existed in the first place and no-one had shown they cared in the slightest - He would bring them down, destroy their lives as his had been by their betrayals. He loved them both so much - to the point of madness - that he couldn't forgive a betrayal. He rolled on the ground and pined vocally, convincing himself that he'd lost it all and they'd all been in on the attack on him, that they'd all helped in their own little ways to kill him and bring him to this place - even if it was just with their silences.

See how I'll leave with every piece of you,
Don't underestimate the things that I will do.
There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing out the dark.


He changed the words subtley as they blasted into his head, cutting through the thoughts of his childre betraying him and his plan to betray them in return. Isabella flashed into his mind, pushing them swiftly aside to fill him with a mix of emotions. He loved her, he did. But he wasn't and never had been 'in' love with her. She was just so...... wet. She had no fire inside of her, no oompff. She came across as being a liar because each time she spoke to someone they changed her mind on whatever the most recent topic at hand was. So what she'd said to person A no longer was true because persons B, C, D and E had each changed her mind. She'd lost her family because of it - they didn't feel they could trust her and for some reason they thought it was HIS fault!

He knew he held her heart in his hand, knew he could crush it if he let the darkness within him that was slowly emerging and coming out rule his actions. She had no idea the things he was capable of, the things he could and would do if pushed into a corner. She'd betrayed him as well. She'd lain there in the bed beside him getting covered in his blood and she'd done **** all. He convinced himself in his madness that she had woken up, that she'd sat there and watched them all kill him with a look on her face that was half fear and half joy. Her weakness had raised it's head once more and she had failed him again. She had failed the man she claimed to love and he was about done putting up with her ****.

The scars of your love remind me of us,
They keep me thinking that we could have it all.
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless,
I can't help feeling,
We could have it all,


Nix came back into his mind and he relaxed and smiled. His hand played over his body to trace the places on his body where she'd struck him. There were no scars as in the song, but he remembered each of her strikes well. Yes, with her he could build something in this city. They could be a force to be reckoned with and they could have it all. He just had to work out how.

Could have had it all,
Rolling in the deep,
You had my heart inside of your hands,
But you played it with a beating.


Leiren took over this time. He'd been in love with her too - before he'd met Nix. But she'd betrayed him, told her sire about them and when the demand had been made to choose one or the other - she'd chosen her sire. A smirk crossed his face as he thought about how that had worked out for her. How her sire had tormented her and chained her to his friend Asbo who abused her sexually. He was convinced that Amara was trying to toughen Leiren up, harden her to the world and to sex because to say Leiren was a little fragile and naive was an understatement. However the plan hadn't worked - Instead when he looked at Leiren now he saw a broken and confused woman. His love for her had changed - he was no longer 'in' love with her. Now he wanted to hold her and keep her safe, protect her. She'd killed that initial love the night she made her choice to be a possession of her sires instead of standing on her own two feet as an individual person.

Throw your soul through every open door,
Count your blessings to find what you look for.
Turn my sorrow into treasured gold,
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you've sown.


Chad.......

Yes. Chad. The man was going to pay and was going to reap exactly what it was he'd sown. He'd created Nick, he'd turned him into this monster. He'd offered him love and support, a home and a family. He'd forced Nick into this life. Then as soon as Nick refused to be one of his mindless drones he'd thrown him out into the city without a word as to the exact reason why.

The man was weak in the worst way possible. He was another killer who refused to admit his true nature and instead tried to love and hug everyone he met. Nick had punched him every time the man had tried to lay a hand on him, but still the idiot didn't get it through his head and still he tried at every meeting. He tried to promote happiness and harmony within the line - while he showered attention and power onto those who followed his command to grow him an army. Meanwhile - if you refused to MURDER humans and drag them into this life you were shunned and ignored while being offered the love and power if you helped to create the army for him.

He was an idiot. That was all there was to it, plain and simple. He didn't have a clue about modern day life, about modern personalities. He didn't have the intelligence to carry out his plans of city domination because he was thick as **** and wet to boot. His words on CrowNet were flowery and failed to hit the point of the conversation taking place. He made the entire bloodline a laughing stock because of his stupidity. He'd tried to bully the city with messages and notices of intent - only to go back on them and undermine those who tried to help. He didn't have a way with words, he wasn't a diplomat, he couldn't twist them to his will and bend them into many meanings. He tried to - but he invariabley failed because he simply didn't have the intelligence to carry it out.

He was a coward. He whined, he moaned, he made excuses, he tried and failed to be a diplomat and then he went running to the rest of his family. He couldn't and wouldn't stand on his own two feet and Nick had realised a while ago why he'd truely wanted a big family. It was to keep his own *** safe because he didn't have the balls to stand toe to toe with someone. He relied on his status as a first generation, as the figurehead of the family, to keep him safe and out of harms way. Figurehead was the appropriate word because that's all he was. He'd lost most of his family - the rest having seen his true colours for what they really were and it made Nick laugh as he shouted into the air...

I ******* TOLD YOU SO!!!

The family had been gathered together for one of the random lame assed 'parties' that Chad threw. Somehow the discussion had again turned onto the fact that Chad loved his family, that he wanted them to be happy etc etc etc. The same hippy **** he always spewed. Nick had told him - in front of everyone - that it would make him happy to shoot Chad, kill him to repay him for what he'd done to Nick. Chad had laughed, said that he would see every strike on his body as simply an expression of Nick's love for him. Nick had simply nodded, and in a deadly serious tone said that Chad could see it however he wanted - but that was what he planned to do. And Chad had said that if it made the man happy - to go for it.

Now, a few months down the line - Nick had been hitting Chad every time he saw him. The man had come whinging to him, asking Nick to stop. But he'd reminded Nick of some sort of kicked puppy dog and he'd refused. Chad had said that in that case - Nick would be hunted and killed by the entire Worthington line. Nick had just simply laughed in the man's face. Called him a weak coward and said that if he wanted him dead he should do it himself - man to man. There was no beef with the Worthingtons as a whole, the only issue was with Chad. That it was personal and between the pair of them - but Chad had simply shaken his head and walked off.

Nick shook his head as he lay there - wishing that those who still followed the twat could see what he truely was. He would put his own line, his own family that he claimed to love, in harm's way for a personal matter. If another of the line had a personal matter that they had initiated - would he send out the troops to fight their battles too? Or would he show the double standards he had been from the beginning by only using his power to benefit himself? A small and evil cackle escaped his lips at that point. Because if Chad thought a little trip to the Shadow Realm was going to stop him from shooting the crap out of the man every time he saw him - he could damn well think again. Nick now had 2 deaths owed to him by that man. And he planned to collect.

(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
We could have had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all.
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
It all, it all, it all.

You had my heart inside of your hands,
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
But you played it,
You played it,
You played it,
You played it to the beat.


Yes, Chad had no idea what he'd passed up when he'd thrown Nick out, when he'd turned against him, when he'd betrayed him and when he'd wussed out like the weak willed, thick as **** coward that he was. Nick was going to make sure he knew it - he was going to make sure that Chad wished he'd never met him and he would see his tears fall. He rolled over to his knees again and crawled off, singing the looped verse, feeling revitalised with his newly released emotions coursing through his body. He would find those wibbly ghosts, he would take from them that which he needed and he would rise once more instead of lying here, Rolling in the Deep.

(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
We could have had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all.
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
It all, it all, it all.

(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
We could have had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all.
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
It all, it all, it all.

(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
We could have had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all.
(You're gonna wish you never had met me),
It all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all, it all.
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Nick Bowstrong
Registered User
Posts: 172
Joined: 14 May 2011, 23:00

Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

He hobbled through the city streets having found himself an old, rusted pipe to lean on as his new crutch. He could feel the rust rubbing off and cutting into his palm, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. He half wondered if the cuts he got here would manifest themselves once he was back 'upstairs' again. However it didn't much bother him because there were other, more serious, wounds he'd have to deal with once he was free again.

Visions filled his mind of Chad broken and bleeding, him standing over him with a smirk on his face as he made Chad face up to all he truely was. It was what kept him going and what grounded him to his mission. Without the joy he felt at the scenario where Chad bled - he would have been lost down here forever. And he knew it.

His joy was intensified by the possibility that his family had already got themselves ready for his return. That plans had been made and set into motion. His earlier misgivings had been replaced by anticipation to see what they had accomplished already and what was left to do. He imagined Micah having left the *****, returning to the bowstrong line with his mind clear and eyes opened. Taking charge as he'd always dreamed the man would should anything befall himself. Kait by his side, helping people with inspiration and morale. The pair of them working together in unison to bring the family together and make them work as a unit once more.

He saw many shapes and figures as he travelled and he pounced on them all as brutally as his broken body would allow, while his mind's eye changed them all to resemble Chad and to take on their faces. Of course though - they were all as useless as the one who's face they held, and didn't give him that secret he craved from them and so his hunt continued.

Upon his travels at some point he'd found a little broken porcelain doll. He'd picked it up and called it Nixy - and it was his companion as he walked along. He'd shoved her inside the pipe to peek out of one of the holes that had rusted away. In his head this kept her safe, let her see everything, kept her with him always - but hidden - and gave power to his attacks by lending her strength to his blows he made with the pipe because of her silent support. As he walked along he chuntered away to her, telling her all the many and varied ways he planned to cause pain to Chad to bring to life his vision of bringing the man to his knees. He loved that little doll as if it really were his fully fleshed Nixy.

Time and again he fell on those wibbly ghosts, taking his fill. Every time he saw one of those cracks, he remembered every step he took away from it so he could find his way back on a regular basis to check that pull. He was on his way back to one again - harmonising his singing with Nixy who had a lovely alto voice to match his baritone. Their voices rose and fell together, echoing around the buildings in perfect harmony. Now and again he rested, hugging the pipe to him tenderly as his finger entered the pipe to gently caress Nixy's hair and cheek. Then again he'd be up, and walking onwards to the crack.

He rounded the corner and saw it. His hopes rose - willing that pull to be strong enough this time. He walked into it and felt it. It was like someone had reached inside him, grabbed his liver and pulled and the rest of his body was forced to go with it. He screamed - not in pain but in despair. His fingers had let go of the pipe with the force and he was leaving Nixy behind. He landed with a thump on the grass, an odd smell surrounding him and a slight popping sound echoing through his head - that was almost in time with the music that still played in his head.

He screamed again - reaching out to where the crack had been with complete anguish and despair filling his voice and covering his face.

NIXY!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I WON'T LEAVE YOU! I'LL FIND YOU AGAIN! I PROMISE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!

Then he collapsed to the ground in the foetal position, naked and sobbing and luckily still wrapped in the remnant shadows of the realm - so the humans passed him by as if he weren't even there.
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Nick Bowstrong
Registered User
Posts: 172
Joined: 14 May 2011, 23:00

Re: Rolling in the Deep

Post by Nick Bowstrong »

Slowly Nick pulled himself together. He shivered as the wind blew over his bare skin and this broke him from his reverie. Wind. How long had it been since he'd felt the wind, smelt the fresh air properly? His eyes closed as he sat up, head rolling back to point his face to the sky to let the wind blow through his hair. As it did, a small frown crossed his face and his hand lifted to his head. His hair felt - longer. How long had he been down there?! He didn't realise that hair still grew down in the Shadow Realm.... wait. Did hair even grow? When was the last time he'd had a hair cut? His frown deepened and he opened his eyes to look down at himself and what he saw made his eyes go wide.

His body wasn't as toned and buff as it had been, yet part of him was..... larger. There was more hair than before covering his chest and legs. He held out his arm and looked down at it and his hand - and the skin seemed older. Panic was beginning to creep in now. What had happened to him and was this all just some horrendous nightmare? Perhaps he'd been in the realm for years and years - and so his body had somehow aged. Though no, the elders who'd been in there for 200 odd years still looked as fresh as they did when they went in. So that couldn't have been it!

He peeked out to the path and looked around the park - there were no humans around. Seems the gangsters and the vampiric activity they thought was gangsters - was scaring people off the streets. He saw the river and crawled his naked *** over to it to peer into the smooth, clear surface...... and cried out in horror. The face looking back at him wasn't his, but that of an older, slightly more rugged and rough around the edges man. His hand lifted as he stared, touching and squishing his face to check it was his - which it unfortunately was. Each face he pulled was mirrored back to him, each place he touched - he felt. He sat there, studying and playing with this new body of his as he tried to think of the tale he'd been told a while before.

He recalled it, piece by piece, about how allurist's appearance - over time - changed to match their inner selves. So if the exterior looked better than the inner person - it altered to match little by little. And vice versa - if the exterior was worse than the interior then it changed too. Until in the end, the interior and exterior matched one another. A soft sigh escaped his new lips as he figured this was his first step in the change. He had to admit - he'd seen worse looking people in the city, so that was something at least. Besides, for some reason this body had parts that had been...... enhanced. So in a way he guessed the face was compensated. He smiled down into the water and then nodded, deciding he could definitely work this look still. And then a slightly crazy smirk crossed his face.

No-one currently knew what he looked like. Only a telepath would be able to tell who he was........ The fun he could have with that was mind blowing!

He pulled himself up and dragged a shopping trolley from the water. Using this to lean on, he hopped off through the park to get himself back into the swing of things and work out how best to play this. On his way, he picked up a phone, some clothes and then stopped off at a net cafe to let the cowardly Worthingtons know their plan had failed. And when he saw the date on the computer he smirked - he'd only been gone for roughly 2 or 3 days....... and now he was back - bigger and badder than ever!

He wandered off into the night to find a place to rest, humming that little song to himself over and over - singing the words of the chorus as they repeated.

(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
We could have had it all,
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all.
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
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