Post by deadguydrew on Jan 5, 2010 3:00:45 GMT -5
Oh who is she? A misty memory, a haunting face, is she a lost embrace?
The music crooned in the background of his new quarters as Grace contemplated the events of Seattle. He held a small hand rolled cigarette in his fingers, and a bottle of something clear and alcoholic in the other, sitting and trying to make sense of the voices in his head.
Kill me.
He felt his skin crawl at the presence of the foreign mind in his head. It had gotten worse since Seattle, and he found himself turning to anything that would drown out the constant cries. He saw her now, when he closed his eyes, or maybe that was just the drugs, he couldn't tell anymore.
She was beautiful. Pale, perfect skin. Her hair was a striking shade of blue, unbelievably blue, and it was her natural color. Sometimes she had wings, but things got fuzzier the harder he tried to see her. Beneath her skin, and the mournful cries to be ended, he felt a seething anger directed at him, or anything else. She was like a beast trapped in a cage, lashing out at anything that came close enough to the bars. She railed against the bars of her prison in the only way she seemed to know how.
Kill me!
“DAMNIT, NO! I WON'T KILL YOU! I NEED YOU!”
The remains of the bottle had exploded across his room from where he had hurled it at the wall in a fit. His mouth was bitter, but not from the tobacco or the alcohol. He was a newtype, but the EXAM made people recognize him for what he was. If he lost it he would go back to being nothing, utterly disregarded.
You aren't special, are you?
To hear something that wasn't a plea for death shocked Alain into silence. He couldn't feel her anymore as he slipped back into his seat from where he had bolted to his feet, the music still playing faintly in the background.
Am I in love with just a theme, or Ayesha just a dream? A mystery, oh who is she?
There was a second bottle on the table next to his chair, Alain twisting the cap off of the harsh liquor with his teeth. Spitting the cap out, he plugged the bottle into his mouth, gulping down the mint-sterile tasting liquid.
He remembered facing the blue devil in the ruins of Seattle, and of hearing another voice, one like the Efreet's, but also not like it. Pulling the bottle from his lips to breathe, he wiped the excess liquor from his mouth with the back of his hand. Whose voice had that been if it wasn't his EXAM's? He didn't even know the name of the blue haired girl, but he knew that the voice he heard, the one calling to save her sister, wasn't the same as the one in his head. As the room span around him, Alain's alcohol addled brain suddenly latched onto an idea, the rightness of it undeniable.
“They have her too... The blue devil has the EXAM.”
Taking another drink from the bottle of alcohol, Alain didn't stop until the bottle was empty. He could feel himself growing cold, the distant voice of the blue-haired woman only a vague reminder of the reality he was about to leave behind, if only for the evening.
The music crooned in the background of his new quarters as Grace contemplated the events of Seattle. He held a small hand rolled cigarette in his fingers, and a bottle of something clear and alcoholic in the other, sitting and trying to make sense of the voices in his head.
Kill me.
He felt his skin crawl at the presence of the foreign mind in his head. It had gotten worse since Seattle, and he found himself turning to anything that would drown out the constant cries. He saw her now, when he closed his eyes, or maybe that was just the drugs, he couldn't tell anymore.
She was beautiful. Pale, perfect skin. Her hair was a striking shade of blue, unbelievably blue, and it was her natural color. Sometimes she had wings, but things got fuzzier the harder he tried to see her. Beneath her skin, and the mournful cries to be ended, he felt a seething anger directed at him, or anything else. She was like a beast trapped in a cage, lashing out at anything that came close enough to the bars. She railed against the bars of her prison in the only way she seemed to know how.
Kill me!
“DAMNIT, NO! I WON'T KILL YOU! I NEED YOU!”
The remains of the bottle had exploded across his room from where he had hurled it at the wall in a fit. His mouth was bitter, but not from the tobacco or the alcohol. He was a newtype, but the EXAM made people recognize him for what he was. If he lost it he would go back to being nothing, utterly disregarded.
You aren't special, are you?
To hear something that wasn't a plea for death shocked Alain into silence. He couldn't feel her anymore as he slipped back into his seat from where he had bolted to his feet, the music still playing faintly in the background.
Am I in love with just a theme, or Ayesha just a dream? A mystery, oh who is she?
There was a second bottle on the table next to his chair, Alain twisting the cap off of the harsh liquor with his teeth. Spitting the cap out, he plugged the bottle into his mouth, gulping down the mint-sterile tasting liquid.
He remembered facing the blue devil in the ruins of Seattle, and of hearing another voice, one like the Efreet's, but also not like it. Pulling the bottle from his lips to breathe, he wiped the excess liquor from his mouth with the back of his hand. Whose voice had that been if it wasn't his EXAM's? He didn't even know the name of the blue haired girl, but he knew that the voice he heard, the one calling to save her sister, wasn't the same as the one in his head. As the room span around him, Alain's alcohol addled brain suddenly latched onto an idea, the rightness of it undeniable.
“They have her too... The blue devil has the EXAM.”
Taking another drink from the bottle of alcohol, Alain didn't stop until the bottle was empty. He could feel himself growing cold, the distant voice of the blue-haired woman only a vague reminder of the reality he was about to leave behind, if only for the evening.