Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic)
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- Joined: 03 Feb 2016, 02:20
Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic)
Just outside of a hole in the wall town with nothing but a gas station and a stoplight. It'd take at least half an hour for an ambulance to get here. Perfect.
Dareios was going to do it. Finally, he'd worked up the courage to end it all. 26 years of wondering exactly what death would be like, and he was finally going to do it. It was the middle of the night, and rainy. The only sort of life in this sleepy hamlet was a bus that had stopped to refuel. There were a few people milling around and stretching their legs. He paid them no mind.
The car was a stolen '84 Camaro. It was his favorite color: matte black. That'd make it a little harder to spot after he did what he was planning. A foot down on the accelerator, and the Greek was beginning to fly through gears. First, second, third. As soon as he hit 100k/m, his hand came off the shifter and he unbuckled his safety belt. Then he saw what he was hoping for.
Yes! That's it!
It was a tree. A huge, ancient thing. One that would crush this old heap of **** car, and him with it. It was finally his chance to pierce the veil and glimpse the other side. He'd see if he was right, and there was nothing on the other side, or if his mother had been right all along and there was a heaven. If she was, he'd see her there. If not, well, it wouldn't matter anymore anyway.
There was a screech as he careened the car off the asphalt on purpose, slamming into that white oak head on. Metal on metal, a horrible sound, and his body flying halfway through the windshield. The only reason he wasn't thrown straight into the tree headfirst was the steering wheel stopping him. All he felt was pain. It wasn't going to be the quick death he had hoped for, but death was going to happen no matter what.
That brought a broken, bloodied smile to his lips.
Dareios was going to do it. Finally, he'd worked up the courage to end it all. 26 years of wondering exactly what death would be like, and he was finally going to do it. It was the middle of the night, and rainy. The only sort of life in this sleepy hamlet was a bus that had stopped to refuel. There were a few people milling around and stretching their legs. He paid them no mind.
The car was a stolen '84 Camaro. It was his favorite color: matte black. That'd make it a little harder to spot after he did what he was planning. A foot down on the accelerator, and the Greek was beginning to fly through gears. First, second, third. As soon as he hit 100k/m, his hand came off the shifter and he unbuckled his safety belt. Then he saw what he was hoping for.
Yes! That's it!
It was a tree. A huge, ancient thing. One that would crush this old heap of **** car, and him with it. It was finally his chance to pierce the veil and glimpse the other side. He'd see if he was right, and there was nothing on the other side, or if his mother had been right all along and there was a heaven. If she was, he'd see her there. If not, well, it wouldn't matter anymore anyway.
There was a screech as he careened the car off the asphalt on purpose, slamming into that white oak head on. Metal on metal, a horrible sound, and his body flying halfway through the windshield. The only reason he wasn't thrown straight into the tree headfirst was the steering wheel stopping him. All he felt was pain. It wasn't going to be the quick death he had hoped for, but death was going to happen no matter what.
That brought a broken, bloodied smile to his lips.
Dareios | Kenny
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
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- Posts: 36
- Joined: 29 May 2015, 01:55
- CrowNet Handle: Wanderer
Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
A week before reentering Harper Rock
The bus slowed to a snail crawl as the bus driver pulled up to a gas station. Some Podunk little town. Nameless, with nothing to it. One of those towns that deserved the saying "if you blink, you'd miss it." In fact, Jacey had almost missed it, had the bus driver not hit a pot hole just right, causing her head to bash off the window just right, startling her awake. She had been on this bus for at least three days now. They were a day away from the next bus station, the next switch. One bus to another. All to get back to Harper Rock.
Jacey shifted in her seat, rubbing her eyes with one hand, the side of her head with the other. Her ears strained to pick up the muffled voice of the driver, who informed them that they would have fifteen minutes to stretch and get something from the gas station if they so chose. Fifteen minutes or he would leave without them. Jacey didn't have any money left in her wallet. She'd spent it all on the bus tickets to make sure that she could make it back. Bought almost all the bus seats so that the bus would be empty. Perfect for her. No one to ask her questions or give her a weird look when she ducked into the bathroom during the daylight hours or hid beneath a heavy black blanket.
While the few people who actually bought a ticket quickly vacated the bus to do whatever it was they wanted, Jacey shifted, placing her head back against the window. She contemplated texting the few people that she had back in Harper Rock. To say something. Peter and Sean, they deserved to hear from her. But she thought better of it. She'd send them a text just before she got there. Maybe to prepare them. While she thought about this, her eyes lazily scanned the surroundings. A black car began to move, the only sign of life that this town seemed to have. She watched as it pulled away before she glanced down at her phone. There was still ten minutes before she would have to be back on the bus. Maybe she would take that bus driver up on the stretch. Would give her something to do.
Jacey stood up and walked off the bus. Where would she go? Almost as soon as her right foot touched the asphalt, there was a screech. A crash. Jacey's hands flew up to her ears, desperately trying to cover them. The sound was grating on her ears. The other riders all ran to the edge of the gas station, looking at something just down the road. Uncovering her ears, Jacey walked quickly to where the others had stopped. Just ahead, a car accident.
Reacting on instinct, Jacey ran towards the wreck, just as the bus driver did. A few other people had pulled out their cellphones, whether it was to call 911 or to take pictures, Jacey couldn't tell.
Reaching the wreck, Jacey's eyes lay upon a man. Half in, half out of the car. Ejected. Jacey inhaled sharply at the smell of blood. She needed to help this man, not use him for lunch. She whirled on the bus driver, a hefty older man. "Help me get him out!" The older man tried pulling the door open as Jacey looked around for an easier way to get him out. He was already almost out of the windshield. That would work, right?
She crawled on top of the mangled car. Before she started to pull him out, she placed her hands gently on either side of his face, gingerly lifting his head so that he could see her. Her ears registered that the bus driver was still tugging on the door. He almost had it open.
"You're going to be okay. I promise," she said, trying to keep her voice low, almost soothing. "I'm going to get you out of here." To the other riders, she yelled "Someone call 911! Quickly!"
The bus slowed to a snail crawl as the bus driver pulled up to a gas station. Some Podunk little town. Nameless, with nothing to it. One of those towns that deserved the saying "if you blink, you'd miss it." In fact, Jacey had almost missed it, had the bus driver not hit a pot hole just right, causing her head to bash off the window just right, startling her awake. She had been on this bus for at least three days now. They were a day away from the next bus station, the next switch. One bus to another. All to get back to Harper Rock.
Jacey shifted in her seat, rubbing her eyes with one hand, the side of her head with the other. Her ears strained to pick up the muffled voice of the driver, who informed them that they would have fifteen minutes to stretch and get something from the gas station if they so chose. Fifteen minutes or he would leave without them. Jacey didn't have any money left in her wallet. She'd spent it all on the bus tickets to make sure that she could make it back. Bought almost all the bus seats so that the bus would be empty. Perfect for her. No one to ask her questions or give her a weird look when she ducked into the bathroom during the daylight hours or hid beneath a heavy black blanket.
While the few people who actually bought a ticket quickly vacated the bus to do whatever it was they wanted, Jacey shifted, placing her head back against the window. She contemplated texting the few people that she had back in Harper Rock. To say something. Peter and Sean, they deserved to hear from her. But she thought better of it. She'd send them a text just before she got there. Maybe to prepare them. While she thought about this, her eyes lazily scanned the surroundings. A black car began to move, the only sign of life that this town seemed to have. She watched as it pulled away before she glanced down at her phone. There was still ten minutes before she would have to be back on the bus. Maybe she would take that bus driver up on the stretch. Would give her something to do.
Jacey stood up and walked off the bus. Where would she go? Almost as soon as her right foot touched the asphalt, there was a screech. A crash. Jacey's hands flew up to her ears, desperately trying to cover them. The sound was grating on her ears. The other riders all ran to the edge of the gas station, looking at something just down the road. Uncovering her ears, Jacey walked quickly to where the others had stopped. Just ahead, a car accident.
Reacting on instinct, Jacey ran towards the wreck, just as the bus driver did. A few other people had pulled out their cellphones, whether it was to call 911 or to take pictures, Jacey couldn't tell.
Reaching the wreck, Jacey's eyes lay upon a man. Half in, half out of the car. Ejected. Jacey inhaled sharply at the smell of blood. She needed to help this man, not use him for lunch. She whirled on the bus driver, a hefty older man. "Help me get him out!" The older man tried pulling the door open as Jacey looked around for an easier way to get him out. He was already almost out of the windshield. That would work, right?
She crawled on top of the mangled car. Before she started to pull him out, she placed her hands gently on either side of his face, gingerly lifting his head so that he could see her. Her ears registered that the bus driver was still tugging on the door. He almost had it open.
"You're going to be okay. I promise," she said, trying to keep her voice low, almost soothing. "I'm going to get you out of here." To the other riders, she yelled "Someone call 911! Quickly!"
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Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
He tried to open his mouth to reply, and tell them to leave him. This is what he'd wanted. But, his jaw was broken and vocal chords destroyed. Instead, he spit toward her, spraying blood from betwixt his lips. A shattered left arm twitched a few times, but his right was still well enough to grip a piece of the jagged, twisted metal and embed it into the wrist of his broken arm with a single quick, deep stab.
Another spurt of blood sprayed from that wound. He wanted this to happen before any emergency services could get there, and would do everything possible to make sure it did. The girl over him was pretty, and trying to be kind and calm. He wished she weren't there. This wasn't something he'd want her to witness, and he didn't even know her. He could tell that she was the type of person he could've used in his life, to help silence the demons in his mind when he was losing the fight by himself, however.
That wouldn't happen now, though. There was no way she, nor anyone else could help him. It was too late. He'd lost too much blood, and the light was starting to fade.
I feel cold.. It can't be much longer, now. You'll see, ma. I'll show you that death is the end, and nothing more. Just another minute or two, and I'll cease to exist, just like you did.
A couple of coughs followed that thought, with Dare spitting up more blood. The man was about to let his eyes slip closed when a sharp pain and pressure in his chest caused him to start gasping. A broken rib had pierced his lung and caused it to begin collapsing. Either suffocation or bleeding out was going to be his end. It didn't matter which, when all was said and done, though.
Another spurt of blood sprayed from that wound. He wanted this to happen before any emergency services could get there, and would do everything possible to make sure it did. The girl over him was pretty, and trying to be kind and calm. He wished she weren't there. This wasn't something he'd want her to witness, and he didn't even know her. He could tell that she was the type of person he could've used in his life, to help silence the demons in his mind when he was losing the fight by himself, however.
That wouldn't happen now, though. There was no way she, nor anyone else could help him. It was too late. He'd lost too much blood, and the light was starting to fade.
I feel cold.. It can't be much longer, now. You'll see, ma. I'll show you that death is the end, and nothing more. Just another minute or two, and I'll cease to exist, just like you did.
A couple of coughs followed that thought, with Dare spitting up more blood. The man was about to let his eyes slip closed when a sharp pain and pressure in his chest caused him to start gasping. A broken rib had pierced his lung and caused it to begin collapsing. Either suffocation or bleeding out was going to be his end. It didn't matter which, when all was said and done, though.
Dareios | Kenny
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
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- Posts: 36
- Joined: 29 May 2015, 01:55
- CrowNet Handle: Wanderer
Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
Her attention was still on the individuals who were now hopefully calling 911. Why would people not bother to call 911 when they saw something like this happen? When did the world become something that needed to be completely documented for everyone to see? This man was dying, in a terrible crash, and these individuals didn't care. A surge of anger burst forth, something that was rare for Jacey. But as quickly as it emerged, it subsided. Her attention was pulled from the bystanders to the man who was in the car. He had moved slightly. Maybe he was going to say something?
Nope.
Instead, he spit at her. If it was meant to force her away, it wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to let him die. Not like this, at least. What happened next, however, threw her for a loop. The man grabbed metal and stabbed it into his arm. She screamed, releasing him quickly. Startled, she stared at the man. It was like he wanted to die! At that thought, she was filled with anger. She would've gave anything to have her mother with her, someone who had wanted to live. And here was a man, throwing away his life. It was like the universe was laughing at her. Ha, Jacey. You can't save anyone. You can't do anything.
Jacey reached down to grab the metal scrap, yanking it out of the man's arm. In the process, the metal sliced her hand open. With the amount of adrenaline running through her veins, she didn't even feel it. Didn't acknowledge it.
Didn't know it happened.
Without thinking, she brought her bloody hand down to his arm, trying to stop the bleeding. As she did, her blood seeped into his open wound. The woman pressed hard, determined. Pressure was said to stop the bleeding, right? That's what people learned as an EMT, in CPR classes? At this point, Jacey wished that she had taken up those CPR classes in her travels. Then she would know what to do.
Her attention turned to the bus driver. "Is the door open yet?" The bus driver shook his head. Jacey inhaled again. "Do you think you can lift him out of here?" The driver moved around to look into the car. "Suppose I could..." he muttered. He grabbed the nearest piece of metal, knocking out the rest of the window. He reached in, trying to yank the man out. At this point, more bystanders came running over, having finally stopped taking the blasted pictures of the crash and deciding that they should probably care about their fellow man. While she waited, the man began to cough. Her anxiety level increased. "Hurry!" she squeaked out. Three individuals began to pull the man out of the wreckage, Jacey still holding onto his arm.
Finally, after minutes of struggling, the people managed to free the man from the wreckage. Jacey had to release his arm to let them move him away from the car and onto the ground. Once his back touched the ground, she grabbed his arm again, once again trying to stop the bleeding.
She looked down at the man on the ground. It was useless. He was going to die. Her eyes began to water.
"I'm Jacey. . ." she said softly. "And I'm sorry I couldn't help you. . ."
So much for fifteen minutes.
Nope.
Instead, he spit at her. If it was meant to force her away, it wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to let him die. Not like this, at least. What happened next, however, threw her for a loop. The man grabbed metal and stabbed it into his arm. She screamed, releasing him quickly. Startled, she stared at the man. It was like he wanted to die! At that thought, she was filled with anger. She would've gave anything to have her mother with her, someone who had wanted to live. And here was a man, throwing away his life. It was like the universe was laughing at her. Ha, Jacey. You can't save anyone. You can't do anything.
Jacey reached down to grab the metal scrap, yanking it out of the man's arm. In the process, the metal sliced her hand open. With the amount of adrenaline running through her veins, she didn't even feel it. Didn't acknowledge it.
Didn't know it happened.
Without thinking, she brought her bloody hand down to his arm, trying to stop the bleeding. As she did, her blood seeped into his open wound. The woman pressed hard, determined. Pressure was said to stop the bleeding, right? That's what people learned as an EMT, in CPR classes? At this point, Jacey wished that she had taken up those CPR classes in her travels. Then she would know what to do.
Her attention turned to the bus driver. "Is the door open yet?" The bus driver shook his head. Jacey inhaled again. "Do you think you can lift him out of here?" The driver moved around to look into the car. "Suppose I could..." he muttered. He grabbed the nearest piece of metal, knocking out the rest of the window. He reached in, trying to yank the man out. At this point, more bystanders came running over, having finally stopped taking the blasted pictures of the crash and deciding that they should probably care about their fellow man. While she waited, the man began to cough. Her anxiety level increased. "Hurry!" she squeaked out. Three individuals began to pull the man out of the wreckage, Jacey still holding onto his arm.
Finally, after minutes of struggling, the people managed to free the man from the wreckage. Jacey had to release his arm to let them move him away from the car and onto the ground. Once his back touched the ground, she grabbed his arm again, once again trying to stop the bleeding.
She looked down at the man on the ground. It was useless. He was going to die. Her eyes began to water.
"I'm Jacey. . ." she said softly. "And I'm sorry I couldn't help you. . ."
So much for fifteen minutes.
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Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
He blinked a few times at the girl. She had introduced herself, and apologized that she couldn't save him, and he wasn't able to understand why. He clearly did it on purpose. There were no skid marks on the road from the application of brakes. The impact was dead centered on the tree. He hadn't even made an attempt to wear the seatbelt. And last but not least, he had spit toward the girl trying to save him.
Why didn't she realize that he wanted this? Or did she think that she might be able to make him regret the decision to end his own life? She wouldn't make him regret it. And even if she did, it wouldn't last long anyway. He couldn't think with all the pain, couldn't breathe, and there was a burning sensation running up his arm, setting from the wound in his wrist.
So, this is what it's like. I'm ready for the darkness to take over.
He drew another ragged breath, before coughing up blood once again. The last image he would have was of the pretty girl, Jacey, kneeling over him. That was a thought he was okay with. Dareios let his eyes slip closed, trying to hold on to the way she looked. The image he attempted to to burn into his mind started to slip away as the fire in his arm seemed to spread. Another breath, and two harsh coughs and a gasp.
Then nothing. The pain subsided. His chest fell one last time, and his lips curled up in a soft, light smile. The second smile he'd had grace his lips in the last four years. The first had been just minutes before, but it would've felt like a lifetime ago if he could still feel. But, Dareios was gone now.
Or at least, that's what'd he thought. The truth was going to be so, so much worse.
Why didn't she realize that he wanted this? Or did she think that she might be able to make him regret the decision to end his own life? She wouldn't make him regret it. And even if she did, it wouldn't last long anyway. He couldn't think with all the pain, couldn't breathe, and there was a burning sensation running up his arm, setting from the wound in his wrist.
So, this is what it's like. I'm ready for the darkness to take over.
He drew another ragged breath, before coughing up blood once again. The last image he would have was of the pretty girl, Jacey, kneeling over him. That was a thought he was okay with. Dareios let his eyes slip closed, trying to hold on to the way she looked. The image he attempted to to burn into his mind started to slip away as the fire in his arm seemed to spread. Another breath, and two harsh coughs and a gasp.
Then nothing. The pain subsided. His chest fell one last time, and his lips curled up in a soft, light smile. The second smile he'd had grace his lips in the last four years. The first had been just minutes before, but it would've felt like a lifetime ago if he could still feel. But, Dareios was gone now.
Or at least, that's what'd he thought. The truth was going to be so, so much worse.
Dareios | Kenny
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
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- Posts: 36
- Joined: 29 May 2015, 01:55
- CrowNet Handle: Wanderer
Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
And just like that, he was gone. Just like her mother had gone. Jacey released the wrist that she had been holding onto, looking down at her hands. Covered in blood. His blood. She started to wipe the blood off on the grass next to her, hoping that it would go away. Go away and just become a memory. But every time her hands came away from the grass, there was the evidence of the man's death. A vibrant red hue. She scrubbed at her hands harder.
The bus driver came over to place a hand on her shoulder. In comfort or in sympathy, she didn't know. As soon as the hand touched her shoulder, Jacey released a shaky breath. Reached up to her face, to wipe away a tear. It was silly, she knew, to be so upset over this man's death. Hell, she hadn't even known him. Didn't even know his name. He was just some random person that she failed to help. And perhaps that was what made it hurt that he was gone. A message from the universe that said 'stop trying. You're doing more harm than good. You will never save anyone.'
The next hour was a blur. It took the cops and firefighters almost twenty to finally show up at the scene. The cops questioned each of the bystanders, the bus driver, and finally, Jacey. What did she see? What did she hear? Who pulled the man out of the car? Did she know the man? So on and so forth. On and on. Jacey answered each one of them as best as she could. Finally, the cops let her go. Looking back over her shoulder at the man one last time, now with a white sheet laid over him, it finally hit her that he had in fact wanted to die. The cops had told her there was no sign of the man hitting the brakes, no sign of him even bothering to try to stop the accident. He had been suicidal. And that broke Jacey's heart. What could have caused him to fall over that edge? Maybe she didn't want to know.
Turning back, she walked back over to the bus, behind the rest of the bystanders. Waited her turn to walk back onto the bus. Walked to the back of the bus, to the bathroom. Used the sink to scrub herself clean of the blood. Just as she sat back down in her seat, the bus pulled away. Her head pressed against the window once more as they drove onto their next destination.
______________________________________________________
The day after returning to Harper Rock
Sitting in the Moonlight Lotus Cafe, Jacey jumped onto one of the computers. For what she needed to do, she wasn't sure she wanted Peter or Sean to know. She wasn't sure she wanted anyone to know. If she used a random computer, it would probably be much easier than if she used a computer at the Asylum. Jacey could only imagine the questions that would be asked.
She needed to make sure that there was no news about the man who committed suicide. There hadn't been any news reporters on the scene, but she couldn't chance it. What would happen if her name appeared in the newspaper? She didn't want to think about it. She typed in every search word she could think of that would pull up a news report like that. But with each search, there was nothing. No mention of the man, no mention of the accident. Nothing. It was almost as if he didn't exist. At this realization, Jacey's lips turned down in a deep frown. She didn't know whether she was relieved or infuriated. Didn't they understand that, just because he took his own life, he still mattered? Still had family that would wonder what happened? Did he end up being a John Doe?
Jacey placed her elbows onto the table, placing her head in her hands. Why did no one care? And why couldn't she get that man out of her mind?
The bus driver came over to place a hand on her shoulder. In comfort or in sympathy, she didn't know. As soon as the hand touched her shoulder, Jacey released a shaky breath. Reached up to her face, to wipe away a tear. It was silly, she knew, to be so upset over this man's death. Hell, she hadn't even known him. Didn't even know his name. He was just some random person that she failed to help. And perhaps that was what made it hurt that he was gone. A message from the universe that said 'stop trying. You're doing more harm than good. You will never save anyone.'
The next hour was a blur. It took the cops and firefighters almost twenty to finally show up at the scene. The cops questioned each of the bystanders, the bus driver, and finally, Jacey. What did she see? What did she hear? Who pulled the man out of the car? Did she know the man? So on and so forth. On and on. Jacey answered each one of them as best as she could. Finally, the cops let her go. Looking back over her shoulder at the man one last time, now with a white sheet laid over him, it finally hit her that he had in fact wanted to die. The cops had told her there was no sign of the man hitting the brakes, no sign of him even bothering to try to stop the accident. He had been suicidal. And that broke Jacey's heart. What could have caused him to fall over that edge? Maybe she didn't want to know.
Turning back, she walked back over to the bus, behind the rest of the bystanders. Waited her turn to walk back onto the bus. Walked to the back of the bus, to the bathroom. Used the sink to scrub herself clean of the blood. Just as she sat back down in her seat, the bus pulled away. Her head pressed against the window once more as they drove onto their next destination.
______________________________________________________
The day after returning to Harper Rock
Sitting in the Moonlight Lotus Cafe, Jacey jumped onto one of the computers. For what she needed to do, she wasn't sure she wanted Peter or Sean to know. She wasn't sure she wanted anyone to know. If she used a random computer, it would probably be much easier than if she used a computer at the Asylum. Jacey could only imagine the questions that would be asked.
She needed to make sure that there was no news about the man who committed suicide. There hadn't been any news reporters on the scene, but she couldn't chance it. What would happen if her name appeared in the newspaper? She didn't want to think about it. She typed in every search word she could think of that would pull up a news report like that. But with each search, there was nothing. No mention of the man, no mention of the accident. Nothing. It was almost as if he didn't exist. At this realization, Jacey's lips turned down in a deep frown. She didn't know whether she was relieved or infuriated. Didn't they understand that, just because he took his own life, he still mattered? Still had family that would wonder what happened? Did he end up being a John Doe?
Jacey placed her elbows onto the table, placing her head in her hands. Why did no one care? And why couldn't she get that man out of her mind?
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Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
At first, there was nothing. Just blackness. But then, a feeling, and a bit of light on the other side of his eyelids. There was no way he could have survived what he'd done to himself, and yet, he was lying almost peacefully on a... cold.. metal table?
No, no, no... I can't be... What the **** is this?!
Dare let his eyes flutter open, and he stared up at shitty florescent lighting, in a clean white room with refrigeration and some doors on the wall to his left. Only one type of place looked like this: Morgues. He knew them only from tv shows, movies, and the one he saw when they asked him to identify his mother's body after she had drown.
But, that must mean I... died. These were the first words he said aloud. Some people thought it strange that a man of Mediterranean descent had the slightest hint of a French accent, but that was because he was a fifth generation citizen of a still-French region of Canada. The accent LITERALLY came with the territory.
With no idea what to do, Dareios pushed himself up to sit, and took stock of his surroundings. Pale skin, bloodied clothes, but no remaining sign of wounds or other injuries. That was weird. But so was the fact that he seemed to be unable to breathe and it wasn't bothering him in the slightest.
He stood and looked toward a mirror that was across the room. He saw no reflection of himself, but there were a couple of dark, faint figures there. Translucent, and seeming to beckon him toward the glass. The man steered clear of that, not knowing what the hell it was. Then he noticed some clothes that must have been taken off one of the other corpses, and about his size.
Well, I can't just walk around in this stuff, or else someone'll call the cops. Not like the other guy needs them anyway. He said that to no one particular, since there was no one to say it to. Then he started to change, and heard a voice upstairs. It was someone telling their boss they were getting ready to close up for the night.
Dare saw a window a couple feet above him. He quickly opened it, then grabbed the ledge and lifted himself up and out of it. Another look around to give him a sense of where he was. Downtown in a bigger city, near a large concrete wall. He had no idea where exactly he was, but there was an internet cafe a few buildings down, with a neon sign lit up saying 'Open.' That's as good a place as any to start, I guess.
A minute later and he was pushing the door open, looking around to see if he could find someone to talk to and glean a bit of information. There was a young brunette guy with headphones covering his ears at one computer, and what seemed to be a blonde woman sitting at another. He couldn't see any headphones, so he made his way over and sat down next to her.
Turning a bit to start asking her questions, he stopped and his jaw just dropped. It was the girl from when he wrecked his car. There was a one in a trillion chance, but here she was, sitting in front of him.
Uhm... Hi.
No, no, no... I can't be... What the **** is this?!
Dare let his eyes flutter open, and he stared up at shitty florescent lighting, in a clean white room with refrigeration and some doors on the wall to his left. Only one type of place looked like this: Morgues. He knew them only from tv shows, movies, and the one he saw when they asked him to identify his mother's body after she had drown.
But, that must mean I... died. These were the first words he said aloud. Some people thought it strange that a man of Mediterranean descent had the slightest hint of a French accent, but that was because he was a fifth generation citizen of a still-French region of Canada. The accent LITERALLY came with the territory.
With no idea what to do, Dareios pushed himself up to sit, and took stock of his surroundings. Pale skin, bloodied clothes, but no remaining sign of wounds or other injuries. That was weird. But so was the fact that he seemed to be unable to breathe and it wasn't bothering him in the slightest.
He stood and looked toward a mirror that was across the room. He saw no reflection of himself, but there were a couple of dark, faint figures there. Translucent, and seeming to beckon him toward the glass. The man steered clear of that, not knowing what the hell it was. Then he noticed some clothes that must have been taken off one of the other corpses, and about his size.
Well, I can't just walk around in this stuff, or else someone'll call the cops. Not like the other guy needs them anyway. He said that to no one particular, since there was no one to say it to. Then he started to change, and heard a voice upstairs. It was someone telling their boss they were getting ready to close up for the night.
Dare saw a window a couple feet above him. He quickly opened it, then grabbed the ledge and lifted himself up and out of it. Another look around to give him a sense of where he was. Downtown in a bigger city, near a large concrete wall. He had no idea where exactly he was, but there was an internet cafe a few buildings down, with a neon sign lit up saying 'Open.' That's as good a place as any to start, I guess.
A minute later and he was pushing the door open, looking around to see if he could find someone to talk to and glean a bit of information. There was a young brunette guy with headphones covering his ears at one computer, and what seemed to be a blonde woman sitting at another. He couldn't see any headphones, so he made his way over and sat down next to her.
Turning a bit to start asking her questions, he stopped and his jaw just dropped. It was the girl from when he wrecked his car. There was a one in a trillion chance, but here she was, sitting in front of him.
Uhm... Hi.
Dareios | Kenny
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
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- Posts: 36
- Joined: 29 May 2015, 01:55
- CrowNet Handle: Wanderer
Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
As she sat there, she felt someone approach her. Normally, Jacey would be more than willing to talk to the person, to brighten up their day with her smile (as she was told happens when she smiled), and otherwise act like her free-spirited self. But she was too upset, too focused on the man that plagued her mind. Her very own ghost, of sorts. This person who was invading her presence needed to go away. Disappear. She just wasn't in the mood to deal with them. So uncharacteristic of her. And when the man spoke, her irritation level spiked.
"I'm sorry, but I'm really not in the mood to talk. If you could just. . . I don't know. . . Go? That would be great." She waited a brief moment, expecting the invader to leave. Her words were probably not harsh enough. It wasn't in her nature to be mean. In fact, she probably wouldn't have been able to say boo to a ghost. But she tried. "I'm serious. . ." she started, dropping her hands to be able to look at the individual. But that individual was the last person that Jacey expected to see.
A small shriek escaped her before she could contain it. She was literally seeing a ghost. It had to be. He was coming back to haunt her. That was it. He was mad from beyond the grave that she hadn't done anything to truly save him. Hadn't pulled him from the car with the strength she knew she had. Hadn't used her. . . special ability. . . to save him.
"How. . . What. . . You. . ." Words were failing to come together to form a coherent sentence. He looked awful. He looked the way she would assume one would look, had they died. Pale. Very pale. Disheveled. He had to be a figment of her imagination. Or a ghost. No one in the cafe seemed to notice him sitting there.
Holding her breath, Jacey reached out towards him. She shut her eyes tight as she softly pressed her hand against his cheek. The same way she had on the night he died. Instead of her hand passing through him, as she expected, her hand settled against skin. Flesh and bone. Jacey opened one eye to confirm that it was still the same man that she was touching. Seeing that it was, she opened both eyes. "How are you here? You died! I watched you die!"
Perhaps she was able to save people, after all.
"I'm sorry, but I'm really not in the mood to talk. If you could just. . . I don't know. . . Go? That would be great." She waited a brief moment, expecting the invader to leave. Her words were probably not harsh enough. It wasn't in her nature to be mean. In fact, she probably wouldn't have been able to say boo to a ghost. But she tried. "I'm serious. . ." she started, dropping her hands to be able to look at the individual. But that individual was the last person that Jacey expected to see.
A small shriek escaped her before she could contain it. She was literally seeing a ghost. It had to be. He was coming back to haunt her. That was it. He was mad from beyond the grave that she hadn't done anything to truly save him. Hadn't pulled him from the car with the strength she knew she had. Hadn't used her. . . special ability. . . to save him.
"How. . . What. . . You. . ." Words were failing to come together to form a coherent sentence. He looked awful. He looked the way she would assume one would look, had they died. Pale. Very pale. Disheveled. He had to be a figment of her imagination. Or a ghost. No one in the cafe seemed to notice him sitting there.
Holding her breath, Jacey reached out towards him. She shut her eyes tight as she softly pressed her hand against his cheek. The same way she had on the night he died. Instead of her hand passing through him, as she expected, her hand settled against skin. Flesh and bone. Jacey opened one eye to confirm that it was still the same man that she was touching. Seeing that it was, she opened both eyes. "How are you here? You died! I watched you die!"
Perhaps she was able to save people, after all.
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- Joined: 03 Feb 2016, 02:20
Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
I was hoping you could tell me that, actually. I woke up in the morgue, with not a wound in sight... I swore I had killed myself by driving that car into the tree.. And why the **** don't I have a reflection?!
The look on his face was one of panic, fear, and confusion. Though, staring into his eyes would reveal just a little bit more, as well. Rage, because he hadn't truly died. That was his only goal, and it had been stripped from his grasp somehow.
There were a couple more people coming in the door, so he quieted down a bit. It wouldn't do to be yelling in a crowded establishment about stuff that couldn't have happened. That would have the police showing up and taking him to an asylum before he would ever figure out what was going on with him.
Jacey, seriously, I don't know what's going on, and I'm scared... My name's Dareios, by the way. People call me Dare.
If it hadn't been such a weird thing, he wouldn't have even been talking to her. A girl as pretty as she is wouldn't have normally given him the time of day, and that was just fine with him most of the time. But now he needed her for answers, and she was probably going to have questions of her own.
Gods, she's pretty... I can't think about that right now. This is too weird for me to start thinking about how much I'd like to kiss her. C'mon Dare, stop thinking about stuff that isn't important! Not like she'd ever ******* return that feeling anyway, you idiot!
He turned to drop his head onto the table in front of him in exasperation, but not because of what was going on with his body. It was based on the thoughts he was starting to have about this little blonde girl that had been there when he died.
The look on his face was one of panic, fear, and confusion. Though, staring into his eyes would reveal just a little bit more, as well. Rage, because he hadn't truly died. That was his only goal, and it had been stripped from his grasp somehow.
There were a couple more people coming in the door, so he quieted down a bit. It wouldn't do to be yelling in a crowded establishment about stuff that couldn't have happened. That would have the police showing up and taking him to an asylum before he would ever figure out what was going on with him.
Jacey, seriously, I don't know what's going on, and I'm scared... My name's Dareios, by the way. People call me Dare.
If it hadn't been such a weird thing, he wouldn't have even been talking to her. A girl as pretty as she is wouldn't have normally given him the time of day, and that was just fine with him most of the time. But now he needed her for answers, and she was probably going to have questions of her own.
Gods, she's pretty... I can't think about that right now. This is too weird for me to start thinking about how much I'd like to kiss her. C'mon Dare, stop thinking about stuff that isn't important! Not like she'd ever ******* return that feeling anyway, you idiot!
He turned to drop his head onto the table in front of him in exasperation, but not because of what was going on with his body. It was based on the thoughts he was starting to have about this little blonde girl that had been there when he died.
Dareios | Kenny
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back
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- Posts: 36
- Joined: 29 May 2015, 01:55
- CrowNet Handle: Wanderer
Re: Fast lanes, freeways, and bumpy roads. (Warning: Graphic
She winced. The combination of the yell, the obvious panic that was pasted on his face, and the fact that he just admitted that he did try to kill himsef was an assault to her senses. Her heart thudded hard against her chest, her anxiety rising. But, as she had been training herself to do, she pushed down the anxiety. It was her fault, after all. Her fault that he was in this position. How it happened, she had no clue. She hadn't bit him, had she? She couldn't remember sinking her teeth into him. In fact, she was sure that she hadn't. There were too many people around. Too many witnesses if she were to do so. Something that she knew better than to have.
Her eyes darted to the door. People. Great. How was she going to explain all this to him with all these people? When she first sat down, there was one other person. Now there were at least four. Her gaze flashed back to him when he said her name. Her heart fluttered a little.
"Dareios. . ." she said softly, committing that to her memory. "Dare." It suited him. Now she had a name to the nameless man. The one that haunted her. No, not haunted her. He was here now.
She frowned to herself, trying to think of a way to explain. Where would be a good place to explain? How would be a good way to explain this? When Peter had told her about it, he had seemed so calm. So rational. He knew what he was talking about. How could she be like Peter? Could she be like Peter? When he told her about her new life, did he feel as nervous and anxious as Jacey did? Well, she could do the best she could. But it certainly wouldn't be here. In a crowded place. Where everyone could hear them.
"Would you like to take a walk with me, Dare?" she said, her voice sounding almost melodic. "I'll do the best I can to answer you. But I can't guarantee you'll believe me."
Her eyes darted to the door. People. Great. How was she going to explain all this to him with all these people? When she first sat down, there was one other person. Now there were at least four. Her gaze flashed back to him when he said her name. Her heart fluttered a little.
"Dareios. . ." she said softly, committing that to her memory. "Dare." It suited him. Now she had a name to the nameless man. The one that haunted her. No, not haunted her. He was here now.
She frowned to herself, trying to think of a way to explain. Where would be a good place to explain? How would be a good way to explain this? When Peter had told her about it, he had seemed so calm. So rational. He knew what he was talking about. How could she be like Peter? Could she be like Peter? When he told her about her new life, did he feel as nervous and anxious as Jacey did? Well, she could do the best she could. But it certainly wouldn't be here. In a crowded place. Where everyone could hear them.
"Would you like to take a walk with me, Dare?" she said, her voice sounding almost melodic. "I'll do the best I can to answer you. But I can't guarantee you'll believe me."