The great battle of L&L ~ Story thread (Full Version)

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Mistermafio -> The great battle of L&L ~ Story thread (7/16/2008 5:58:18)

The short stories for the literary battle between Jerenda and me are to be posted in this thread.
Expect them on or before the 19th.




Mistermafio -> RE: The great battle of L&L ~ Story thread (7/19/2008 7:08:07)

“My name is Midory.

I could give you a speech about how I love my name, or about how I loved my life before… Before this happened. But you wouldn’t be interested, you shouldn’t be interested, actually.

All I can really need to tell you is that I only have a little more then an hour left to live, and how that came to be.

As every great drama in my personal life, this too starts pretty normal, average at best. It was just about two weeks ago. I was walking home from a party. I wasn’t drunk this time either. After all school would start the day after. I still remember laughing to myself about how scared I used to be about walking in the dark.

If I knew then when I know now, I’d still be scared.

I turned off of the brightly lid road and into a dark alley I used as a shortcut.
As always the alley was shrouded in an eerie silence. The vague light of the moon that was only barely visible through the clouds toyed with the heaps of rotting garbage lying around. Inevitably creating the strangest shadows. This, complimented by the smell of rot the before mentioned piles garbage so nicely provided, didn’t quite make this a shortcut I liked to use. But walking here shaved almost ten minutes off my walking time, and hundreds if not thousands of earlier trips had worn down the feeling of fear I felt the first few times I walked through here immensely.

I was just about halfway through the alley when I heard a sound behind me. Very close behind me. In a reflex my elbow flew upwards to meet with the origin of this sound. But instead of hitting anything solid I only felt air, empty enemy-less, air. Curious as to what could’ve created this sound I turned around. But there was nothing but shadows and smell behind me.

At this point my mind raced through just about every possibility. I went from debating if I was crazy and imagining things, to suspecting a very loud bug of some sorts to be the creator of this sound. When I turned around to walk further though, I stood eye in eye with a man.

My fist was already on its way towards his bleach, emotionless, face when I looked him in the eyes.

Those eyes

They were grey, the shade of grey one could almost call white if it wasn’t for the even whiter colour of the eyeball surrounding it. A small voice inside my head told me I had to run away. But hundreds of louder, bigger, nicer voices commanded me to keep staring into those pits of nothing. So I did.

Slowly his grey appeared to grow larger. Pretty soon his pupils where larger then his eyes. But it didn’t stop there, the grey grew even more, now appearing as a wall before me for only a brief second. Then the wall collapsed, engulfing me. I drowned in the grey. And as I struggled to breath I inhaled it, the grey, it became part of my being. Or perhaps it became my being. As I lost myself in those eyes.




the next morning I woke up. As I did every morning. In my own bed, in my own room in my own house. And even though the man that carried them around was gone, I could still see those grey eyes... I longed for them.

I lived trough this day, and the next, as I lived through any other. With the slight exception that I had turned into an actor. I was acting to be Midory without actually being her. Day after day I pretended to be alright, I acted jolly and smiled sometimes I even laughed. But every day again I found myself praying to god, or the devil for that matter, to see those eyes again.

At first I thought it was desperation that sickened me.

It was a strange sickness, nothing like anything anyone had ever seen before. First the headaches came. Slowly I grew more and more sensitive to just about anything. Bright light, loud noises, even strong smells. There were time I screamed my lungs out as a deafening tone destroyed my ears… While nobody else heard a thing. After two days I couldn’t even look through my window at daytime anymore as the brightness of the sun made me feel as if my head was being split in half. After four days my entire biological clock had shifted. I would sleep during daytime and I would lay awake in my bed at nights. Hoping to see those eyes again while listening to the sound of my parents snoring… A sound I wasn’t even able to hear when I was in the same room as them when all of this started.

I must have had twenty doctors around by that time. All of them with their own theories and tests. One of them, a Dutch guy called Van Heal-something, even insisted I’d be killed by thriving a wooden stake through my heart. Naturally my parents called the police. He’s in jail by now.




Yesterday I woke up from my sleep, just in time to see the sun set once again. But instead of the paralysing weakness I had felt the days before, I felt strong. I actually felt stronger then ever before.

I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs to tell my parents I finally felt better. I could only imagine how happy they’d be to see me standing up for the first time since it happened. I could only imagine how they would laugh and hug me. I knew the first thing I’d be doing was to go looking for those eyes again.

But when I got downstairs I noticed not a single light was on, I heard there was no sound and I smelled there was no dinner cooked.

“They must have gone somewhere.”
I told myself as I walked into the kitchen. I pulled open the fridge, craving for something I couldn’t quite place. I grabbed the first thing I saw lying around, and ate it.

It tasted… Wonderful. I felt as if someone had gotten everything even remotely tasty and put all of it together in one giant pool of utter deliciousness. I stared at this food of heavens, and was surprised to find I was holding a blood sausage. Something I had tasted once before, but back then tasted horrible. I figured this to be a good example of how tastes can change and continued eating.

I wandered through the kitchen with the sausage in my hand when my eye fell on a note that was lying on the table. By it’s shape and size I recognised it as a grief card. I was intrigued by the fact someone had died. And curious as I am I examined the card. The front and back were still completely empty, as if people were still choosing what to put on it, but on the inside stood a horrifying text.

Today, March 21 2008 we lost a dear person.
A student and a friend, but most of all a loving daughter.

Rest in peace Midory.


I read the text once, I read the text twice, I must have read that text, those three lines, dozens of times. Its contents sounding more and more improbable every time.

I knew I wasn’t dead. Seeing how I was eating and breathing and couldn’t walk through walls. But for some reason, call it fate, I just had to make sure. So I walked into the hall and looked at the mirror that hung in there. In it I saw the wall behind me. In it I saw the ceiling and the floor. But in it I didn’t see Midory.

I guess this is were I panicked.




I found myself back in that alley, I don’t know exactly why I ran there. I guess I hoped I could find something amongst the rot and stench. Answers or perhaps, even better, the man with the eyes. If so, I thought correct. This time the man with the grey eyes just appeared to me. No strange sound behind me or anything of that matter. I don’t know if that was because he didn’t feel like it or because he knew by now I could see better in the dark then I could at day.

As the man walked up to me I noticed how the rotting smell had vanished into thin air. This was extra strange as my smell had improved as dramatically as my other senses in the time I was sick. Later I’d realise my brain had already started to eliminate all unnecessary smells to allow me to make full use of my abilities.

“Who are you? And what did you do to me?”
I asked the man with the grey eyes as I walked closer. Hoping to catch a glimpse of them.

“My name, child, has been lost in eternity. But it was replaced with many others. I believe at this time you would call me a… Vampire? And about what I did to you?

I hypnotised you with my eyes, and then used my fangs to bite you and to suck your blood out of your body. Just so I could eat and live a considerable time longer then I’d do if I kept a healthy diet. As a result you have turned into a vampire yourself.

You should be honoured, I rarely let anyone live long enough to become a vampire. Normally I kill them before the transformation even begins. But I saw something special in you, something I rarely see in anyone else.

The last one I saw that in even became a bit of a legend. You might have heard of him as Vlad the Impaler or by his other nickname… Dracula.”

As the stranger spoke his voice was cold and dry. As if he was a teacher explaining something for the thousandth time to a student that just wouldn’t listen. Which I figured would probably be just about correct, if what he said was true. Which I honestly thought it was for some reason too.

Under any other set of circumstances I would have laughed at this guy. I would’ve laughed hard and long. But what he said, and the way he said it, it just felt right to believe him.

I the mean time I had managed to get close enough by to look into his eyes again. Only to be disappointed. This time they weren’t that beautiful shade of grey, no, this time they where just an ordinary bright green. As I replied I couldn’t quite hide the disappointed tone in my voice.

“So, I’m a vampire too now. How come I’m not dead pale then? And why aren’t I craving for blood? Or craving to kill anyone for that matter.”

In his mocking reply all the stranger does is laugh, revealing two pretty long fangs.
“You’ll find out soon enough my child.”

With a diabolical laugh the stranger disappears into the shadows. Leaving only an echo of himself behind, an echo making its way through all my senses before finally disappearing.

I must have stared at that shadow for hours on an end, I must have examined it in every conceivable way. Hoping to find the green-eyed stranger, or at least hoping to find out how he got away. When I finally gave up the sky was slowly brightening. Without even thinking about it I walked into one of the empty buildings and closed my eyes. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep.




The next morning, well you’d call it evening, I got up. I walked outside and noticed the sun had just set. My mind still slow from the hours of sleep I made my way onto the streets. While walking I caught myself on fantasizing about how it would be to actually kill someone multiple times. I was ashamed of myself every time as I never had anything like it before.

Dazed I walked through the starlit night when I picked up a scent, I don’t know if it was the scent that stirred my sudden hunger or if it only drew me back onto earth long enough for me to finally notice the hunger. But fact was I was hungry, and that scent smelled delicious. It was quickly decided, I’d go and check out the thing that was producing this smell. And if it was edible, I’d eat it.

Several minutes later I had somehow crossed my entire city and ended up by the source of the smell. An alley somewhere in the outskirts of town. Just before I walked into the alley I remember thinking how strange it would be to find food in a deserted alley. But by now I was so hungry I didn’t care anyway.

When I found the source of the smell however… I was disgusted. The smell originated from the rotting corpse of a drunken hobo lying in a pool of… Of blood. I looked at this man and from deep within me a great sadness came forth.

A sadness that came, not from my feelings for this man and his death, but from my realisation I actually wanted to drink this blood.

Saddened, and slightly scared of myself, I sat down next to the man and started crying. Quickly after all my tears dried –apparently an undead body doesn’t produce tears, or any other liquid for that matter- I decided there was only one way I could find out if this vampire thing was real or not. In my limited knowledge of vampires I knew they died when exposed to sunlight. So I decided to force myself to stay up and on the streets until the sun came up.

Which will be in a few minutes.”

Midory turned around and faced the person she was talking too. She smiled, exposing two short fangs.

“I hope you understand I had to drink at least a little bit before I could stay up so much longer.”

She whispers to the dead, pale, hobo as the first rays of light break through the buildings surrounding her. The second ray hits Midory. Almost instantly she lets out a high-pitched scream as the illuminated skin slowly starts to burn away.




A man sits inside the dark hotel-room, the only light coming from a screen on which he seems to have focussed most of his attention. Upon the screen I can barely see a glimpse of smoking ashes. I must’ve made a sound without noticing it as the man behind the screen suddenly says:

“May I help you?”

I knew this wouldn’t be simple. Explaining to people they had to leave the hotel never was. I was just about to answer as the man turned around and looked me in the eye.

Those eyes.




jerenda -> RE: The great battle of L&L ~ Story thread (7/19/2008 15:42:38)

Rebirth


I am lying flat on my back in darkness. I can’t move, can’t even breathe, but strangely this does not alarm me. I try to rise, try to move my hand- only to discover that I have no hand. All I have left is a mind, confused and chaotic. Nothing makes sense, nothing works, and everything I ever knew is gone. After what seems like decades my thoughts arrange themselves in some sort of coherent order, a few words rising to the top as most important.

Where am I? Then, almost as if my thoughts have turned into arrows and pierced the suffocating darkness, sound reaches my ears. The voices are vaguely familiar, but I can’t place them… it is a man and a woman, that much I can tell.

“Is she dead?” the man’s voice asks, deep and comforting. What an odd question… who starts off a conversation with ‘is she dead’?

“I- I don’t know… I found her here this morning-” the woman’s voice cracks. I can hear her trying to keep back tears, breath shuddering in her throat. Ah, she has the same problem. Who’s dead?

A great thump, as if a lot of weight had suddenly landed on the ground, causes the floorboards to groan in dismay. Floorboards… there are floorboards! For some reason the realization delights my befuddled mind. More creaking sounds, then pressure on my chest- and warmth, so hot it is almost unbearable. It is then that I realize my skin was ice-cold…

Wait- I have a chest? Yes, yes, I do! Suddenly I could feel it, and my legs, and my arms- I have a body! I want to leap into the air and shout for joy- drat. My body- now that I have it- feels like lead.

Well, that was lame, I think. Before I can test the limits of my strength, however, my attention is drawn away by the man. By the creaking, I assume he is standing up.

“There’s no pulse, Rosalie. She feels frozen solid. I’m afraid she’s dead.” Whoa there buddy. Are you talking about me? Huh? Because I am NOT dead! You hear me? I’m not dead! …At least, not yet. There is no answer. Fine, be that way. I’ll spend my time on more important matters, like finding out my name. I would have stuck my tongue out at him, if I had been able to see where he was and if my tongue wasn’t stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“No… no, this can’t be happening. Isn’t there something you can do?” the woman cries, half disbelieving, the wracking sobs growing louder.

“I’m sorry Rosalie, but Kurai is no longer in this world. There’s nothing anyone can do for her.” Kurai? Is that… me? Kurai… The name seems to fit, belong to me somehow. As I take the name upon me, imprinting it into my being and making it my own, as slew of memories unlock, flowing into my darkened mind like so many brilliant butterflies-

Wait.

The word echoes into my mind, soft and alluring, too quiet for me to tell if it is a man or a woman. A gentle hand keeps back the memories, soft but unbreakable as iron.

Your eyes, the voice says. Confusion fills my mind. Open them. I cannot disobey. Slowly, powerfully, I bend my will to the task, like Superman struggling against Kryptonite. It seems to take ages, for the darkness is impossibly heavy, and I am impossibly weak. Suddenly, something seems to give, and my eyes flash open.

And then I know. My beautiful sapphire eyes, so bright with life before, have turned the deep endless color of the ocean. Memories crash down on me, no longer restrained by the helping hand. Last night- my open window- an angel- pain- burning, I was burning!- and then my eyes clear and I see the doctor’s stunned expression.

“What—How—” he gasps. From my position on the floor I regard him coolly. A nice-looking man, under other conditions, he has short curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. His voice is just the sort to calm unruly patients- reassuring and beautiful, even to my disillusioned ears.

An idea sparks in my mind. “I am not what I once was,” I intone, choosing my words carefully to see his response. It is perfect- he stumbles backwards, mouth open like a goldfish. My voice has changed as well- instead of the wavering half-matured voice of a teenager I hear a silvery sweet tone. Melodious, I think. My voice is melodious.

Good, very good,
the voice murmurs in my mind, sending a flood of pleasure through me. Now- get up.

Uh… yeah, about that…

Don’t argue, just do it.
There is a hint of exasperation in those dulcet tones, and I swallow my objection.

Alright, fine. I begin the struggle, lifting first a hand, then an arm. I must have looked the strangest sight, rising from the floor, staggering as I caught the bedpost to pull myself up. Like Frankenstein… Imagination sparked by this image, I let out a deep groan as I rise from my coffin, parting the swirling mists with a word-

“Kurai?” The woman breaks through my mental picture, her face the picture of a concerned mother. I look at her, confused, trying to place the image. Long red hair curls down her shoulders, framing a narrow, delicately crafted face. Though clearly an older woman, she still retains a fully curved figure and the strength she once had is apparent in the stubborn set of her jaw. Something about the way she holds herself makes me think of a ballerina… and a flash of memory strikes me.

I am being held on her lap, looking at photos. “Look Kurai, here’s a picture from one of my shows. I was the princess. You’ll be a ballerina too, dear. Already you know how to spin.” I giggle, cuddling in close to the woman as she holds me tight. “You’ll be wonderful, even better than me.”

The woman… she’s my mother.
I blink at her, baffled. None of this is making any sense. Why don’t I feel anything towards her? Instead there’s a gaping hole inside of me where my emotions used to be. What’s going on? I think, unwittingly directing the question towards the voice.

“Kurai… it means dark. Did you know that when you named her?” I look past my mother and the doctor to see the owner of the voice leaning casually against the doorframe, and my jaw drops. He is… stunning. The exact copy of my childhood “knight in shining armor”- so handsome it hurts to look at him. Sandy blond hair falls casually over sea-green eyes, and a gentle face smiles at me, showing just a hint of icy steel underneath.

My mother glares, stands in front of him, and generally looks outraged like any good mother would be upon finding a stranger in her daughter’s bedroom. He ignores her spluttered protests and demands to know who he is, focusing over her shoulder on me. Brushing her aside like an annoying gnat, he comes to stand in front of me, a smile curving his lips.

“Beautiful… simply beautiful. Do you like your eyes? I did that. And your hair… perfect. Blond simply doesn’t fit you, not with that face.” His words slip into my mind like honey, intoxicating me with their beauty. If my voice was now melodious, his was heavenly. There was nothing on earth to match it.

He is holding a strand of my hair now, in those strong, supple fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently. I tear my eyes away from his face to look at my hair- and realize it is now ebony. He releases it, the long strands swaying gently down to the middle of my back, and captures my hand within his. I look back into his eyes, those enchanting sea-green eyes, and know there is no escape. Slowly, keeping me his willing prisoner within those eyes, he backs up, leading me to the door.

My mother steps in front of us. I can tell she is furious by the sound alone. “Who do you think you are, and where are you going with my daughter?” Her voice is harsh and shrill with fear and anger.

He pauses and looks at her, perfectly composed. “The one you called Kurai is dead. This girl is no longer your daughter. Do not worry for her. She will learn much under me. Now step aside.” He accompanies the words with a flash of light, and my mother pulls back with a shriek of pain.

He pulls me past her, leading me out into the hall. I follow, knowing the truth of his words. This is my new life. I don’t look back when my mother cries out to me. It is better this way- the pain would only hurt worse if she thought I wanted to stay. Still, her cries echo in my mind, haunting me even as I step outside the door.

“Kurai! Kurai, come back! Kurrrraiiii!”




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