RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block For Those Who Survive

The chalked sidewalk was evidence of children. They must’ve enjoyed being here. Maybe it was a sort of sanctuary to them. It resembled a free haven, one that didn’t discriminate against color, age, or sex. The brightness of their auras still surrounded the area, as if their ghosts never left. In truth, they would never be able to leave.
Small pictures of puppies, kittens, and sunshine littered the concrete bricks. Brightly depicted trees and scenes of nature radiated innocence that only a child could attain.
Two buildings stood tall, even though their foundations were crumbling, blocking out the horizon and any indication of the setting sun. A purple haze roamed about the sky, contrasting the brown color of the buildings. They used to be part of a middle school.
Yellow tape guarded the entrance like disposable sentries. However, there was nothing they could do against the determined law breaker.
Roman Sharne broke the bright plastic, and entered the school through the open doors. Darkness settled in on his vision, destroying any further advancement through the schools first hallway. He didn’t want to injure himself. He was human, after all. Focusing, he reached his hand towards the thickening blackness. It seemed to swirl around him, as if it recognized an intruder. But, if anything was lingering in the doorway, it did not make its feelings known. It was stoic, silent, and sad. Roman could feel the pain inside the gloom, as if it were a sentient being. It probably was. Silence reigned around him, offering no solitude in the maddening darkness.
“Can you lead me to it?” He asked the silence. A hand, tinier than his, rose out of the gloom and grasped two of his fingers. The flesh of the small hand glowed in the foggy dusk, letting Roman see what was directly in front of him.
He turned a hard right, as the hand lead him down thinning hallways full of open or smashed lockers. He watched his feet as they thudded dully on the linoleum. The hand turned a sharp right, and Roman heard the sound of doors opening. Suddenly, the feeling he got was not a tight, winding corridor, but an open, expansive place. This was a huge room, probably a cafeteria or a gym of some sort.
Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the hand disappeared, leaving Roman in the dark. He felt the presence of many emotions, some sad, some angry, swirling around him. They flowed through him, causing involuntary shudders to rack his body. Hugging himself, he slowly walked towards the middle of the room.
“Can you make it light?” He asked the silence, and it obediently shined. Three round orbs swung around him, creating a small arc, as he made his way into the center of the room.
As the lights passed him, he realized that chalk was lining the linoleum floor. However, this was a different kind of chalk. Gone were the frail and naive colors of the sidewalk. Here were thick, white lines, in the shape of bodies. He stepped carefully now, not wanting to disturb the perfect lines. Shapes of bodies.
He counted.
The orbs circled him, like dogs waiting for a treat, slowly surrounding him with their bluish light.
Then she appeared.
Color exploded from the left wall, and then melted back into it. Someone was calling him, he knew it. He ran towards it, his follower orbs barely keeping up with him. His hand collided with the wall, and then was met with another hand. He grasped the soft flesh, and pulled her through. She struggled, for a moment, and then broke free.
The fell down into the white lined floor, dust flew up in great flumes, and then settled back down again.
She stared at him.
“Are you alright?” He asked, though it was a dumb question. Obviously, since she could pass through walls, the girl was fine. She had been alive once, but no longer. She was one of the lingering dead.
“I’m alive?” She asked, to the room more than him. He nodded his head back and forth, not wanting her dreams to come true. It was one thing to be dead, accepting it was another.
“No, but I’ve been dreaming about you. You brought me here; I’m the one who should be asking the questions.” He answered, his gruff voice startling her hair. To him, or anyone else, she was real. She could affect matter, and she was solid. She touched his face, her eyes suddenly becoming clear. Her beautiful, green eyes. Eyes he had known before.
“My Roman, I called you hear because I wanted to show you. I want you to help,”
“I cannot help you, those are the rules. I am here for you to confide, but there is no great light I can take you to. No heaven. What you will become is a part of me, instead of a part of this building, like so many others.”
She stared at him for a long moment, and then closed her eyes. Instantly, her memories flowed within Roman.
Panic. Panic in the room. Guns, guns, guns, guns! Bullets, hide from him. He is coming. Don’t let him in. Wall---door! Freedom! Hate the bullets, the gunfire, the madman. That fucking nerd. Damn him. Damn him to hell. Run, run. The bullets, they are following. Screams, why are they still screaming? Gym! There are exits in the gym! Hold out just a few minutes longer. Short of breath. Help me. Help me. The door opens, I’m free, I’m free, I’m free!
There was a sudden silence.
No! He followed me. PAIN! PAIN! My back, my back. God. My fucking back. It hurts so bad, why won’t it stop. There’s too much, too much … blood? My blood. The blood I need, scoop it back in. Put it back! I’ll need it. Gun barrel. Gun in my mouth. It hurts, so cold, I piss myself. Fucking nerd. I---
Roman looked into the soft eyes. Tears clouded them. He realized what she had been. A school shooting victim, probably a girl the shooter had asked out, and denied him. Her simple choice had become her undoing. Her death warrant, for that matter. He used his fingers to wipe the tears, and sat her down.
“What you must understand is that death is completely random,” he began, “it’s met for every single person, including me. The dead don’t go to some new place, there isn’t anything but earth. What you can do, is strengthen your family. Or break them. You can choose to become the angel, or the demon, depending on how angry you are. You can choose to come inside me, become part of my soul, and help me live forever. So I can always show lost ones, like yourself, the way.”
“Why don’t you just spell it out for her, Roman. You only came to see if she would join you, and what, prolong your life ten or twenty years?”
The voice sounded deep within the black, but Roman recognized it instantly. It was the voice of Aloysius.
“You do the same thing, Aloysius, except you force them to become part of you. There is a difference.”
Three thudding footsteps sounded on the floor, and he walked into view. Aloysius had been called many things over the millenniums; one of them would’ve been the Dark Man. Dressed in a typical suit, he towered over Roman. The Armani jacket he wore met with the darkness, and almost symbiotically bonded him to it. His fine lips were curled in a wicked smile, his violent azure eyes contrasting his pale features. Black hair skidded backwards, giving his entire skull a very aerodynamic look.
“How many times must we have this conversation?”
“Enough times to where you stop living.”
Aloysius shrugged his shoulders, and began to retreat into further into the gym. Roman stood, and began to go after him when three green balls of light smashed into him, knocking him off of his feet and into the wall. Wood crumbled around him, and he saw the girl he had tried to save get up and walk into after Aloysius.
“No! You can’t go! He’ll turn you into something you don’t want to be!”
But it was too late. Her scream echoed throughout the gym. She had become a part of Aloysius, and would never feel human things again.
She was in hell, and unfortunately, there was no saving her.


(OOS: So, what do you guys think about it? I know it’s kind of abrupt, but I worked pretty hard on it. It won’t be free from errors though, I’m a sucker for not seeing my own mistakes, but I think the storyline/character is pretty neat. ^____^ Tell me what you think.)

You know, I read that entire post, and I didn't find the words "RACK" and Drzsmith" together.

You have been warned about this before.

AND NOT ONE PICTURE OF BOOBIES!

HI FRANTA

Although they say a picture is worth a thousand words, I think that picture could make a good story.