Ink

I AM Working on It lol

2009-02-22T12:48:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the feedback :) I've been busy adding a little more to what should become Chapter 1 of Infected (btw Jane, yes it was meant to be two people talking, like the radio shows you hear in the morning). If you haven't noticed, I am notoriously bad with commas, as in using them too much lol. If you catch a mistake, by all means, let me know :) Speaking about that, if something sounds awkward or out of place, I probably left something out (the downside of editing yourself is that you WILL miss things lol). Anyways, here's the fruit of my labor last night (It's more like a rewritten Chapter 1 so bear with me)

Chapter 1
It rained that day. Hard. Nathan felt each drop crash on his hood as he walked, dotting its gray color with darker shades of gray. He was cold, tired, and sore. It had been another drunk night for his father. Nathan had restrained himself from retaliating against his father, and his body had suffered for it. At least he was able to avoid being hit in the face. Any other bruise or evidence of the fights with his father were easily hidden under the shelter of his gray hooded sweatshirt and outlet jeans. In particular, there was this nagging pain in his right shoulder, probably from when his father threw him up against the wall. His right shoulder took the brunt of the force. Well, it’s not like he did much at school anyways.

Nathan walked up to the door to his classroom and just barely dodged the door as it swung violently towards him, threatening to come loose from its rusty hinges. After watching his life flash before his eyes in an instant, Nathan was greeted with the usual glare from his teacher. She eyed holes into his back as he took his seat in the back corner.

Class didn’t interest Nathan today. It rarely did. He was still pretty tired from last night. He amazed himself making it to school. He fell asleep, as usual, knowing no one would bother to wake him. Only the bell would dare do him that favor in this place.

They all hate me anyways. Why am I even here?

Her face popped up in his head, as if saying, “Good morning!”

A smirk graced his exhausted face.

Oh yeah. How could I forget about her?

Nathan looked at the clock, counting down the minutes until his last class, the only class he even slightly cared about, and that was only because she was in that class. So for now, he would sleep. Not only because he was tired, but because it made the time go by that much quicker.
Every now and then the bell would wake him, and he would groggily rise from his seat and move on to the next classroom, occasionally trudging up a set or two of stairs. Others walked around him, but he was too drowsy to notice. But his muscles remembered the routine, and managed to get him to each class, more or less.

Finally the time came. Nathan was wide awake from the anticipation. He knew he would only get an hour or so with her, but that was all he needed to make each and every day worth it. He hurried to the classroom, not in a rush, but fast enough to get him there early, but not too early. He arrived with perfect timing, he wasn’t the first or even tenth in the classroom, but he wasn’t the last either. Nathan steadily walked to his seat in the back corner.

Five minutes passed before she made it to class. But she was not alone. She entered the classroom with five of her friends almost huddled around her. They moved as one, and somehow made it past the door and into their seats. She sat in the back corner, opposite of Nathan. Although her obnoxious friend blocked his view from time to time, this view over weighed the inconvenience.

Her hair was a soft, light brown color, an almost totally opposite shade of Nathan’s devilish dark brown hair. While hers fell gently down to the middle of her back, Nathan’s stopped just short of his eyebrows. Today she had tied it into a ponytail. Jason had just left his alone. It was not like he could do much with it. Certainly not after last night and this morning. He had no time to worry about little things like this. But then again, his gray hood covered all aspects of his hair, so it didn’t matter in the end.

She flashed a glance his way, and he was caught off guard, his hazel eyes gazing into hers. It was only for a moment though, as she returned her attention to the conversation with her friend, who was giddy from the excitement of something that Nathan held no interest in.

He didn’t know what to think of her glance his way, even if it was for less than a second. Was she interested in him? Could she be interested in him? Or was she just taking in the surroundings, checking the room with her curiosity? But Nathan resolved it to be the latter, maybe even a random glance, like the one when you look away to think of something else to say in a conversation.

“Alright class, let’s get started. Today we shall be reading Shakespeare,” the teacher announced as everyone groaned at the sound of the name.

“Quite your whining. This is part of the curriculum, which means it WILL be on the final,” the teacher lazily scolded while still slashing the chalkboard with chalk.

Nathan couldn’t help but steal another look at her.

Sarah huh? Wouldn’t it be nice is she was my.....nah, she’d never be with a guy like me.

She flipped her hair casually, but to Nathan it was all but casual. More like the whole world stopped to watch her. More like Nathan’s heart skipped a beat just for her.

He spent the whole class like this. Oblivious to everything except Sarah. Even if the teacher scolded him for not paying attention, he didn’t notice until the teacher kicked the leg of his desk, interrupting Nathan’s peaceful watch.

None of the teachers cared too much for Nathan, and this one was no exception. He would have loved to hit Nathan over the head with, but school rules prohibited such actions. So he just let Nathan be for now and walked back towards the front of the class, all the while continuing his lecture. Right now, he was just satisfied that he had interrupted Nathan in whatever he had been doing. It was his own small compensation for wasting his time on such a hopeless student.

The bell gave Nathan a rude awakening to reality. The truth was Sarah probably didn’t even know of his existence. He watched her leave, along with his dreams and wishes. Then he rushed out of the classroom to avoid the teacher after school hours.

Nathan couldn’t avoid going back home. He hated it, but he had no money on him. Home was really the only place he could get food and sometimes, sleep. So he flipped his hood over his head and backtracked his way through the pouring rain.

He cut across the lawn to the door, and felt the water invade his sneakers.

That wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve done.

Nathan shut the door behind him, but kept his hand on the doorknob. Something was missing. There was an ache in his chest. Nathan could only wonder what it was. His stomach growled.

Guess I better get some food...

Nathan sneakers squeaked every step to the fridge, leaving a gleaming trail of who-knows-where-it-came-from water on the auburn tiles that characterized the kitchen floor.

What I Have So Far...

2009-02-20T18:54:00.000-08:00

Well, in case you were wondering, this is what I have so far for the beginning of Infected. Most of it is uncertain right now because I cannot decide where to start :(

But before that, if you read it that is, I'd appreciate if you'd help me out a bit by looking for any errors like spelling or grammar :) Also, I'm not sure about Nathan's impression on the reader, well, you'll see if you read it :)

By the way, the prefaces are just ideas I'm playing with right now. But the little introduction thingy is satisfactory (to me).

Preface?
1) “All I knew was a name with a face. Sarah, she didn’t deserve this. No one deserved to suffer like this. I wanted to save her. No, I would save her, or die trying.”

2) Nathan coughed up blood while he struggled to breathe, the bitter, copper taste lingering in his mouth. His body was numb from the collision and the sudden rush of pain. He could barely move his head to look around. The flaming pieces of metal illuminated the corpse of his father. The cackles of the fire and a loud ringing filled his ears. As his eyes gave in to the pain and gave way to darkness, he spotted someone approaching him...

...and to think, he was going to tell her today...

Introduction?
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Click!

“Goooood morning Everwake! Today’s a beautiful day with clear skies all the way!”

“But there’s a 50% chance of rain...”

“Who cares! All I see are clear skies right now and clear skies later on!

Chapter 1?
It rained that day. Hard. Nathan felt each drop crash on his hood as he walked, dotting its gray color with darker shades of gray. He was cold, tired, and sore. It had been another drunk night for his father. Nathan had restrained himself from retaliating against his father, and his body had suffered for it. At least he was able to avoid being hit in the face. Any other bruise or evidence of the fights with his father were easily hidden under the shelter of his gray hooded sweatshirt and outlet jeans. In particular, there was this nagging pain in his right shoulder, probably from when his father threw him up against the wall. His right shoulder took the brunt of the force. Well, it’s not like he did much at school anyways.

Nathan walked up to the door to his classroom, and just barely dodged the door as it swung violently towards him, threatening to come loose from its rusty latches. After watching his life flash before his eyes in an instant, Nathan was greeted with the usual glare from his teacher. She eyed holes into his back as he took his seat in the back corner.

Class didn’t interest Nathan today. It rarely did. He was still pretty tired from just making it to school, and fell asleep. No one bothered to wake him. Only the bell did him that favor this period, in a classroom filled with those that despised his very existence.

Nathan slept in his next two classes. The morning’s near-death experience woke him up briefly, but last night’s exhaustion had finally caught up to him. Neither teacher bothered to wake him up. They left that job to the students, who only woke Nathan from his slumber in order to take their seat in the next class.

Draft/Idea

Nathan awoke with a chill running up his spine. He felt the goose bumps attempt to keep him warm. Instinctively, he crossed his arms across his chest. But he only felt his left arm. He thought it was numb. He looked to find only an empty sleeve of gray.

“Wha-what the hell?” he said to himself, “Is this a dream?”

He was just dreaming. Any minute now he’d wake up in his bed with the sun about to rise above the horizon. Things like this just didn’t happen in the real world. It had to be a dream.

“So you’re awake,” a voice said impersonally.

“No I’m not,” Nathan said calmly, “Not yet. I’m still asleep. This is all, just a dream.”

A long silence ensued, like the eye of a storm, when everything is at a false sense of serenity and security. Nathan just wanted to wake up soon, despite the life he would awaken into.

But he couldn’t help the whirlwind of questions in his head about his right arm. Even though it was all a dream, why did his mind exclude his right arm from his body?

*So regarding Nathan, I don't know if I made him too apathetic to school, although he is supposed to be apathetic to a certain degree. Also, I may be too unrealistic with the treatment to Nathan by the teachers and the students. That's my main concern with that right now.

**In case you were wondering, there IS a reason for him going to school despite his apathy, I just haven't gotten that far writing it because I'm conflicted with this beginning part lol. If I can get this out of the way, I can move on to the good stuff :)

Once again, I would LOVE any feedback at all. I encourage you to as detailed and opinionated as you can be. Even if I personally don't like it, I can still learn from it and make this beginning and overall story better :)

It's Been a While, and I Really Am Sorry About That...

2009-02-20T18:43:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't been on in forever. Blogging just kinda took a seat way in the back of my mind for that 4-odd-something-month period. College, scholarships, deadlines, deadlines, deadlines, and well, you get the point. Anyways, I have not forgotten about writing Infected. I do intend to finish it. Actually, right now I'm in pretty good shape. The problem is that I have a really hard time writing the beginning of a story. I always find it...lacking. Either that or I just don't like it period :(

Anyways, I have my characters all mapped out (for the most part). I even played with the idea of a preface, a little teaser or whatever lol. But I really don't know where to start. I mean, there's two points I could start this story, and they basically break down into this: the long way or the short way. One, I start it off with Nathan (the main character) at school, and introduce you to his life before ANYTHING ever happens. This includes a direct view of his relationship with Sarah (other main character, well, kinda lol). Two, I start off with Nathan right in the middle of the beginning of the long series of unfortunate (is that really a spoiler? lol) events, starting with his belief that it is all just a dream that he will wake up from soon. However, I think his relationship with Sarah will need a little bit more explaining.

So thinking about the relationship with Sarah: clear and simple or a little more mysterious and some thinking on the reader's part (not saying that you can't figure it out but I know that those few times I READ books I hated it when things were not stated clearly).

It's very frustrating for me, but maybe that's part of the job as an author? lol. Anyways, I would very much appreciate any, ANY opinions on this. It'll help me think about things better.

There's No Name to a Tragedy

2008-12-16T22:32:00.000-08:00

That Christmas, he bled himself dry. They say they'll never know why. But he told them. He did them better, he showed them. But they pushed him aside, one of their own. They put him at the end of the list. That damn list. He burned it before he turned to ashes himself. There was no one for him. School hated him. Friends abandoned him. Betrayed him. His moments were inexplicable. He couldn't help the way he was born. It wasn't voluntary. Who the hell would WANT to move like THAT? Randomly. So while they were singing false carols and wishing lies to each other, he locked himself in the bathroom. He wasn't alone, his trusty razorblade was by his side. The only thing that never lied to him. Never trusted him. It just did what he wanted it to do. No questions asked. Just action. While they were giving out presents, he was giving up his blood to the drain in the bathtub. He had enough time to stare out the tiny square window. It was a half moon that night. He smirked. That other half, the light, he wondered what it would have been light. If he wasn't born with this, this, this curse. His life had been out of his hands, but now he could hold it firm and choke it to death with his own bloody hands.

He Said Goodbye

2008-11-23T12:22:00.001-08:00

He dialed 9-1-1 on his cell phone. You could hear the air in the background.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"If I died, would you miss me?"

"What?"

He hung up. He called the police. Before the receptionist could speak.

"I'm about to jump."

"What?"

He cut her off. Closed his cell phone. Stared it down. Thought of her. He dialed the house number.

"Hello?"

"Emily."

"Hang on a minute, I'll go get her."

He heard her cover the phone and call "Emily! Phone!"

But he didn't wait for her.

"I loved you."

He hung up.

He watched a cloud float by. Last one. He called his "home".

Ringing. Ringing. Answering machine.

"Leave a message after the beep."

He knew it. That man wouldn't answer, probably suffering another hangover.

But he left his message.

"Your son is dead."

That was it. There was no one left to call. No one left. He threw his phone over the edge, and watched it shatter into tiny pieces on the pavement. The people looked up at him, high enough to rival the sky. Just a spot in the sun. But they watched him, ignorant.

He falls. Arms open for broken wings. He won't fly. But he'll land.

He didn't know what it all meant. No one ever explained it to him. But it could all mean nothing. He could be nothing. He would be nothing. No, just another one, to them. He'd see his mother soon enough. Maybe she could tell him.

Absurd?

2008-11-18T23:10:00.000-08:00

he held her in his arms. She was homeless. She was bleeding. She was dying.

She painted the sidewalk a dark shade of red.

He called for help. He tasted his tears. He cried for help. Somebody. Anybody.

Nobody.

She died in his arms, and all he could do was cry for her.

They just walked by. Some turned to look. Some even said something. But they all walked away. No one wants to be a hero.

The sirens never came.

He buried her, all by himself. No one helped. No one wanted to. No one cared.

They asked what was wrong with him. He slammed his door shut, and locked himself away from the world. They were concerned, but called it a phase.

He emerged from his self-imprisonment, with red eyes and sight set on something. He never spoke a word to them. He left that place, never coming back.

In a field of dry grass on the outskirts of the city, he found his fury. Let it burn inside him, and finally burst into a great blaze. The match was only an instrument of his wrath. If they thought him helpless, powerless, he would prove them wrong. If nobody cared, then he didn't care either.

She was dying! Yet all they can do is watch!

The blaze kept him company. It embraced him, holding him in its arms. Then finally consuming him. He left with a sadistic smile. The flames matched his eyes.

He could only bring pain to those that had only given him pain...

Author's note: Read something in the newspaper. Forgot what it was thought :( But no this did not really happen, at least to my knowledge...

Work in Progress :)

2008-11-08T15:46:00.000-08:00

sorry for the LONG delay in posts. I haven't had the time to write lately with scholarships and college applications and whatnot. But I DID manage to write a little bit, and it's a start. I don't know if you remember how my last attempt, or the attempt before that was, but I feel this is a better approach, so far :) Anyways, I'm still editing a bit. I also want to make the paragraphs a little longer, but I haven't figured out a way to do that yet, er, what to write to make them longer lol. Well, here's what I have so far:

Chapter 1? Undecided

He ran down the street, almost tripping in the darkness of the night. His body was going numb from the rain, but he kept running. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He would give it to her today.

She stood under a streetlight, an umbrella keeping the rain off her pretty face. She waited for him to come to her.

His heart was racing, not only from the running, but also from the excitement. He could barely contain himself.

He held out his hand, and the silver necklace glistened in the streetlight. The rain only made it sparkle a little more. She smiled, a beautiful smile, one that only he knew.

She turned around so he could put it on her. The necklace was wet, and she got goose bumps from the sudden chill. But his hands were so caring, so careful.

He turned her around to see it. It looked perfect on her, just like he imagined. Beauty without bounds.

She was so happy she was speechless. Words could not express what she felt in the depths of her heart at that very moment.

Their lips locked under the shade of her umbrella.

He was soaking wet, but she didn’t care.

She was so warm, something he had never known.

A precious moment burned into their memories, to be treasured the rest of their lives. It was to be their last moment together like that, but they had no way of knowing...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the bright lights. Then afflicted with the pain of a thousand needles lodged in his body. The beeps of machines and the shouts of people flooded his ears. Then, one last needle, sunk into his chest. The pain was endless. Jason saw a blurry white, then succumbed to the darkness of forced slumber.

“Jason,” a voice whispered.

?

“Jason,” whispered the voice again.

Jason’s body felt so heavy. His head was spinning, even in this darkness. But this voice, it was so familiar...

“Sarah!” Jason exclaimed as he jerked wide awake. The lights were blinding at first, but his eyes adjusted soon enough. She wasn’t there.

Jason picked himself up off the floor. His body must have been numb, because he didn’t feel a thing. His head ached, so he put his hand against it to ease the pain. He took a few breathes and took a look at his surroundings.

The room was pure white. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, all a clean white. An empty white. A contraption of some sort stood against a wall, sleek and shiny in appearance. There was a single door, white like the rest of the room, that stood opposite of the contraption. Jason moved to open the door, when it suddenly burst open from the other side!

A beast rushed in. Jason immediately raised his arms to cover his face, bracing himself from some sort of impact. One glimpse of those feral eyes was all it took. But Jason felt nothing. He lowered his arms, slowly. Two assault rifles were point blank with his face.

“Don’t shoot!” Jason pleaded, shutting his eyes tight from the fear.

They opened fire, and didn’t stop. They shot round after round after round, until their guns were just noise.

Jason thought he was dead. Jason was sure he was dead. But he was still breathing. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the two soldiers staring at him. He frantically checked himself for bullet holes. He found none. Now he was really confused. Not only that, but scared to the point where his body would not move, at least not quick enough.

The soldiers passed THROUGH Jason. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know what to think anymore. But he slowly turned to see what they were doing, and almost vomited right then and there. That sour taste creeping up his throat was too sickening for him. But swallowed it whole, leaving its bitter taste on his lips. What a gruesome sight. It couldn’t be called a corpse. There was hardly anything left.

It was only then that Jason realized they had been looking THROUGH him. He began to wonder if he really was dead.

“Did you take care of it?” came a voice.

Jason just stood there. He honestly could not move. His body would not respond. He wanted to move. He had to move. But, nothing.

His mind was racing with a million thoughts a second. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe it was all a dream. Yes, that’s right, this is all a dream. A terrible, terrible dream. A nightmare. He would wake up soon, and everything would be normal again. His head would be against the window of the car, and his father would be driving, going on about how Jason should apply himself to something, even though he was nothing more than a big fat paycheck to this father.

(Sigh)

2008-10-23T20:39:00.000-07:00

I knew there was going to be frustration when writing a story. I just never thought there would be this many...

I'm rethinking Jason's past, because right now, it just doesn't work for me. I can't fit it in the way it is now :(

The prologue is also throwing me off. That's also in the rethinking process :)

Anyways, it looks like I'm going to start from scratch (again...lol). But the good news is, I already have my inspiration for the "new" Jason. He has subtle differences from the "current" Jason, but those make all the difference for me :)

Sorry to all of my readers who were looking forward to the next chapter. But if it's any consolence, the rewritten version of Infected won't stray too far from where I left off :) A few changes here and there, a few images cleared up. But I'll give you something to look forward to/ponder about :)

Ever wondered about the details of Jason's past?
His relationship with Sarah I'm pretty sure you can already guess, but that in itself is being rewritten right now in my head :) It already sounds better than what I have right now too lol. His reaction won't be so, uh, awkward? This time he'll have a reaction from the start, but perhaps not what you might expect...

Ever wondered if Sarah was in the same situation as Jason, or does she have her own problems?
Sarah's past is being worked on. I already have the foundation, so to speak, just building on it right now. Yes she has her own problems, but they're closer to her than you might think.

Oh by the way, is it always this frustrating to be a writer? :)

Infected: Corruption Chapter 5

2008-10-13T18:26:00.000-07:00

Chapter 5

There was a touch of color in his eyes. A touch of life. A touch of memory.

Sarah felt her heart skip a beat from excitement. Did he remember?

"Is that your name?" Jason asked cautiously.

He felt it, something that tugged at his heart. Something that attracted him to her.

"Ja-" she began, but stopped. Her heart was racing, but he had only asked her name. She shouldn't get too excited, not yet.

"Jason, do you remember me?" Sarah asked.

Jason thought about it, silently. He only knew a name and a face. His heart beat faster and faster just talking to her, a heart that had locked itself away from the world. Jason had never known life, but this girl made him wonder about it. If it was with her, was it really that bad?

Sarah waited anxiously for his answer. If it was yes, maybe they could continue where they left off, with some adjustments of course. If he said yes, she wanted to kiss him, to hold him in her arms again, somehow. Even if he was a ghost, she would love him.

But if he said no...

Sarah didn't even want to think about it. She didn't know what she would do. Maybe keep him with her in hopes of hiding his memory. But it would kill her, to hear him deny her.

The screams filled the silence.

"No," Jason said.

Sarah felt her heart die. It fell to the floor and lay bleeding. The sadness dripped from her eyes, ever so slowly. She tried to be strong, choking down her sobs. This wasn't the end, she could start over. It would hurt, not having him remember, but she could not forget him. She could start over, and make new memories. But she would miss him, the old Jason.

"But," Jason continued, "I want to remember you."

Sarah's sobs stopped in an instant. Her mind raced with possibilities. They could work together to regain his memories. They could work out everything. They could live together, forever.

She smiled, and Jason couldn't help but do the same. His heart longed for her, for a life. Death never crossed his mind.

Sarah clutched her silver necklace. He wasn't dead, the Jason she knew and loved. He was in there, somewhere, forgotten, misplaced maybe. There was still hope.

They both stood there, smiling. Neither heard the screams anymore. Neither heard the footsteps crashing down the hallway. Neither made a sound.

Bullets broke the silence. Sarah and Jason looked at the shooters. Two guards, geared in black, with assault rifles slung across their necks.

"Today's the day you die!" one yelled.

"Your daddy ain't gonna save you today!" yelled the other.

They both took aim at Sarah.

Jason caught a glimpse of her. Sarah was surprisingly calm, like this wasn't the first time. Jason watched in awe and then horror as her eyes turned black, no, darker than black. The soldiers flinched as the room quickly matched her eyes, complete darkness.

Jason was worried about Sarah, but he felt a sense of security in this darkness. There was nothing to fear here. It had sheltered him before, why should it fail him now?

"I don't like doing this," Sarah whispered, the darkness echoing her voice, "but you guys leave me no choice."

Jason could see nothing, but he heard something pierce flesh. He heard the blood splatter and spray. He heard the body drop to the floor. He shuddered.

"What the? Ugh!" he heard the other soldier say.

Jason heard another body drop as the blood burst forth and fell like rain to the floor.

The darkness receded, but Jason's body would not stop shaking. What was that? Sarah?

She stood over the two corpses. Blood dripped down her arms, and joined the pool spreading across the floor. Jason saw the wounds on the bodies, wounds that were not from this world, wounds that were not possible with anything. The flesh had been torn away, the bones had been ripped out and stabbed back into the body. No, these were not bodies, they were corpses, mangled to the point of no return, ever.

Something gripped Jason's heart in an icy fist. The wounds were random, but no less gruesome. There was nothing Sarah could have used. Her arms were drenched in blood, they reeked of the blood. Jason shuddered. Something was wrong, so very wrong with it all, even in a place like this.

Sarah turned around to face Jason. She needed to explain it to him. But he was gone. She felt her heart sink, but she could still hope. At least he was there, she was no longer so alone in this place. She promised herself to find him later, and explain everything to him. For now, she dragged the corpses outside into the hall and closed the door.

---------------------
Author's note:
The first part of this chapter was really difficult for me to write, and I'm still not happy with it :( It sounded kind of awkward to me when I reread it, but I want to get this out of the way and move on. I know, I know, lazy right? But I'll edit this chapter when I finish this story. Oh yeah, proofreading is a pain on blogger, so let me know if you find any errors: i.e. spelling, grammar, missing words, etc. One more thing, if you don't mind, am I moving too fast? As in Jason as a character. I don't know if he is changing at the right pace or too fast overall. Also, the whole interaction between Sarah and Jason, does it make sense? If not, please let me know. I really want to improve this chapter to improve the whole story overall. Wow, that was a lot, sorry about that :) But yeah, let me know what you think of it.

P.S. Too gruesome? How so? Unnecessarily or were you just not expecting it? Do you need a warning or something? Or is there image unclear in some way? My friend (beta reader) is being lazy right now so I really don't have a second opinion about these things :( I'm dying to know here! lol.

YAY!!!

2008-09-28T11:50:00.000-07:00

I finally got a computer to post from! It's been so long since I blogged, I missed it! Anyways, I've hit a writer's block with Infeceted :( I'll guess I'll just have to wait it out. Now that I finally have my internet connection back, I'll be able to check out more blogs. I'll be reading blogs for now, and hopefully get over this writer's block.

Infected: Corruptin Chapter 4

2008-09-16T21:27:00.001-07:00

Chapter 4

She lay slumped in the corner, holding her knees to her chest, crying to the wall. Her hair flowed down her back and lay sprawled across the floor. The bruises on her arms were a deep purple. A failed attempt maybe. Jason envied her.

“It must be nice to die,” Jason said coldly, “Welcoming Death and leaving this life behind. What I wouldn’t give to die.”

“Don’t say that,” she muttered, “Nobody wants to die. There’s noting in death.”

“But that’s all I want!” Jason said stubbornly, “To die! To leave and never come back. To not have to live. I never wanted this life. There is only pain and sadness. There’s nothing worth living for, no one…” Jason wandered off. Actually, there was someone, but would have forgotten him by now.

“There is someone, isn’t there?” she whispered.

Their silence fell to the screams and agony around them. Jason could hear them dying. He envied them, his lust for death lay unsated.

“You know,” she said as she picked herself up off the floor, “You sound just like him.”

She turned to face this pitiful soul. She would comfort him, show him the better side of life despite her agony. Her despair would solve nothing.

Only, it was him, her only one. The one she had waited for, the one she gave her heart to. She was speechless.

The screams killed the silence.

“Like who?” Jason asked, interested. Maybe this other person could die with him.

“You don’t remember?” she whispered softly, a tear in her eye. She basked in her memories of him. The time when the skies were blue and the nights were only a darker shade of the days. She cherished the time they had spent together, loved every moment of it.

“What?” Jason asked. He had seen her mouth move, but had heard nothing. He should have left that room, there was nothing for him there. But something kept him there, in that room, with that girl. Something that tugged at his heart, a heart he thought had frozen over and lay solid. he could not ignore this feeling.

She missed those days, when they were happy. When life could not get any better. But he had changed.

Looking at him, she could see the changes. His arms were scarred, traces of blood barely visible. His eyes were bloodshot from tormented nights. His neck was bruised a deep purple. A ghost of the past.

He stood there, clothed in black, wearing what anyone would wear, only darker. A black shirt, where blood stains only made it darker. A pair of loose fitting jeans, ripped and torn by someone, or something. He never did avoid fights. A pair of plain white sneakers, dirty with asphalt. His face was older, burdened with the weight of time. His hair was longer, reaching past his neck, its black color blending with his shirt. But his eyes were as pale as ever. They were considered blue, but they were faded, empty of any joy or life.

“N-Nothing,” she stammered.

This was the him of the past, before she ever met him. This is what he returned to, despite their time together. This wasn’t the him for whom she had waited for, but it was him nonetheless. A promise is a promise, but what if he didn’t remember?

Jason stood there, staring at her. Who was this girl? Did he know her? Should he know her?

He stared at her. She returned his gaze with her hazel eyes. The room was silent, save for the screams. Jason tried to remember her. He looked her over more closely.

Her light brown hair fell gently down her back, stopping just past her shoulders. Jason saw now that the bruises on her arms were from some sort of shackles. He wondered if she was really that dangerous by herself. Her navy blue jeans still had the price tag on them. Her tennis shoes were still a bright white, almost blending in with the room. The T-shirt she wore was a light brown, but a darker shade than her hair. She wore a silver necklace around her neck. It suit her perfectly…

Flashes of some memory surprised Jason. It was raining, pouring oceans onto the city. The frigid wind sent chills down his spine as he ran. He was drenched from splashing puddles, and his body was going numb. But still, Jason kept running. Next, he stood under a streetlight. She stood in front of him, her face silhouetted by the bright light. The silver necklace glistened in his numb hands. Without looking at her, he knew she was happy. Then a kiss, accompanied by a warmth in his chest, something Jason had never felt before…

Jason gazed into her hazel eyes, while that same feeling tugged at his heart. Could this be that girl? Jason wondered as he touched his lips.

No. it couldn’t be. There was no love, not for someone like him. No. only Death would welcome him with open arms, and hold him forever.

There could be nothing for him here. A silver necklace, a kiss, a girl, they belonged to someone else. Not him, who could only long for death. Jason began to leave.

“No,” she cried, “Not again. I’ve waited for so long. No. No! Don’t leave me Jason!”

Jason stopped dead in his tracks, paralyzed by a memory. Those words echoed in his ears: “Don’t leave me Jason!”

It was a gloomy morning. The clouds blocked out the sun. Jason looked on from the back seat of a van. She was crying. It was depressing. A tear fell from his eye. As the engine rumbled and the car awoke, he looked at her on last time. She shouldn’t have to suffer. The distance grew between them. He remembered the words he promised her, “Wait for me, okay? We’ll kiss under the light of a full moon, just for you. This is just temporary. Just for now. Goodbye, Sarah.”
“Jason!” he watched her call one last time as she collapsed on the street.

“Sarah?” Jason whispered.

She rose her eyes to meet Jason’s.

Update : Infected

2008-09-13T20:13:00.000-07:00

sorry for the delay in posts, school has been hectic :( anyways, chapter 4 is almost finished, but i'm having second thoughts about how i wrote it, if that makes any sense. i don't know if Jason is consistent in his character, but then again, i don't know if i'm far enough into the story to be worrying about that yet. so i've been staring at what i've written for days now lol. but the good news is, my friend agreed to be my beta and read over my story for me, so hopefully that'll help me with the decision to continue writing from where i left off or to have to do a total revision of the chapter (which i don't really want to do). either way, chapter 4 will go deeper into Jason's past, and hopefully make my readers ponder and wonder about him and his situation :) thanks for your patience, i promise to have it up as soon as possible!

Infected: Corruption Chapter 3

2008-09-07T00:21:00.000-07:00

sorry about the delay in posts. i haven't had any inspiration lately, and just recently my computer broke down :( good thing i saved on a flash drive :) anyways, it'll take me a while to find a new computer to post from. thank you for your patience and comments.

Even ghosts have to sleep, and Jason was no different. But the lights were never off. There was never a room devoid of scientists, who pounded away at their keyboards and scribbled on their clipboards. They were always working. The soldiers were no different, always pacing and making rounds about the facility. They were always ready with gun in hand.

It was in sleep that Jason found that bits and pieces of some memory came to him. It was the same one every single time.

Flashes of an empty street, followed by the silence in the car. Jason was in the passenger seat with his head against the window, watching the street pass by with yellow lines and white dashes. He never saw the driver. Suddenly they were flashes of fire, a great blaze with Jason in the center. But everything was silent. The flames devoured everything, but not a sound. Jason always woke up, thinking he was alive.

It was nights like these that he wandered the facility, searching for something to take his mind off the blaze. It was such a night that he discovered something sinister.

The soldiers did not care about Jason. The scientists did not care about Jason. No one was bothered by his presence. He was free to roam as he pleased, however futile it may be. They made no effort to hide what they were doing. They knew Jason could do nothing about anything. It was on this night that he discovered about the project, and the experiments that had proceeded him. That man told him everything, the one he had met on that first day.

Jason had wandered into a meeting room of sorts. Everything was circular in shape: the chairs, the table, the whiteboard, the room, even some scientists. The light from the projector blinded Jason for an instant, catching his attention. He moved out of the light and watched from the shadows. They ignored him.

A reflection caught Jason’s eye. A broken reflection with an absence in color in the shape of a skull. Jason saw the gold ring, on a hand adjusting an ID badge. The name was Erik Savage. The name sounded familiar, but Jason could not remember from where.

“He is the result of our research,” Savage said as he pointed his finger at Jason, “An ethereal entity. The potential is there.”

The others stared at Jason, contemplating experiments. Jason could see it in their eyes. But they would never be able to touch him.

The scientists nodded in agreement with Savage, and then left the room. Savage turned off the projector and exited the room. Jason followed him down the hallway and into his office. Jason was not finished.

Savage walked over to a freezer against the far wall. Jason stopped in the center of the room.

“#GJYU1590,” Savage began, “You are the only experiment able to roam around so freely.”

Savage turned around, holding something in his hand. Jason saw the needle of the syringe, but not the substance contained within it.

“You are an experiment worth monitoring, one of the few to maintain their sanity,” Savage continued.

“Why are you telling me this?” Jason asked.

“Didn’t you want to know?” Savage said coldly, “You are the only one incapable of doing anything. The only experiment that poses no threat. You are helpless, harmless.”

Savage opened his hand to reveal the substance in the syringe. It was the darkest shade of black Jason had ever seen. The substance bubbled inside of the syringe despite have being stored in a freezer.

“XNT-8. the same substance currently running through your veins,” Savage said calmly, “Its volatile nature produces unpredictable mutations, which makes for interesting results to record.”

Jason was speechless. They had done this to him. They had deprived him of death and cursed him with living a life he never wanted. They had made him into the ghost he was. Jason rushed without thinking at Savage, only to pass through him.

“What’s the matter, Jason?” Savage laughed.

“How do you know my name?” Jason asked, surprised.

“Oh, I know a lot about you Jason. You see, I was the one who brought you here. You wasted your life away anyways, so why not use it for my experiments?”

“You think this is some kind of game?” Jason yelled.

“Oh but it is! And I am the game master. You are all but pawns on my chess board, waiting to be taken!”

Savage continued to laugh, a mad joy in his eyes.

“And yet,” Savage said in a serious tone, “You are the closest to perfection.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

Savage returned the syringe to the freezer and left the room, smirking to himself. Jason followed him. Something about those eyes hiding behind those glasses bothered him. They were too familiar, like they were something he should remember.

“You’re so persistent,” Savage said coldly, “It’s almost as if you’re alive.”

“What do you mean, perfection?” Jason asked.

“You are only a ghost, unable to touch yet unable to be touched. You’re harmless now, but you could be so much more,” Savage wandered off.

The blaze burned brighter in Jason’s mind, but why? Those words were so familiar: “You could be so much more.”

Foster parents, teachers, counselors, therapists. They all came to mind, but non were “the one”.

The blazes of scrap metal were dying. A body lay limp on the floor, silently burning away. The night swallowed any witnesses. A black figure, silhouetted by bright lights, stood above Jason. That voice uttered those same words: “You could be so much more.”

“But your experimentation has just begun Jason,” Savage continued, “For the sake of this Ark Project, yes, you are not finished. I cannot allow you to simply disappear.”

“Ark Project?” Jason asked.

“If Gravestone wants a super soldier, I’ll give him a super soldier. Based on the results, maybe even mass production,” Savage sneered, “But I will have my fun. I will experiment!”

“Gravestone?”

They had arrived at a steel door, latched shut. The lights flickered in the hallway, showing spots of green here and there.

Jason had wandered here before. It was Hell on Earth. Screams of anguish and despair flooded what would be silence. It was here Jason had felt belonged. It was here where he envied others deaths by their own hands. It was here he longed to be one of them and finally die.

“Yes, you are all my experiments!” Savage exclaimed, a madness in his eyes, “You! Them! And even her!”

Savage had opened the door and was pointing at the room’s occupant, who was still breathing. She sat alone in the corner, despairing in the fetal position.

“Just you wait,” Savage said sinisterly, “The experiment will be a joyous one, one that will be complete soon, one that will have excellent results! The very thought of it excites me!”

Savage laughed like a madman as he slammed the door. It lost its echo in the screams. Jason would have chased him, if something had not caught his eye. A silver necklace.

Infected: Corruption Chapter 2

2008-09-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

It was useless. Jason could not die.

The soldiers eventually stopped, and their cartridges littered the floor. They lingered there for a while, staring Jason down as they awaited orders.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. The soldiers turned their backs on Jason and departed. Jason could care less about what they did. Nothing mattered to him, not as long as he was alive. Who would have thought death would be this hard to obtain?

The footsteps stopped in front of Jason, who stared at the man. He had lost all hope. Now there was only an emptiness, a life devoid of life.

The man wore a white lab coat over a black collar shirt with a matching pair of dress pants and a pair of Brogues. He adjusted his thin framed glasses as he cleared his throat. The gold ring on his left ring finger caught Jason’s eye. It reminded him of something, a vague memory in his mind. He could not take his eye off of it. The black skull engraving, what did it mean?

The man was scribbling something on his clipboard. Jason continued to stare at the man’s ring, determined to find something. If there was anything in life that interested him, it was that man’s ring with the black skull engraved on its golden surface.

“Your death wish,” the man began, “Is impossible. Ghosts do not die. They are bound to live, for eternity.”

Jason refused to believe it. For something to not be able to die, that had to be impossible. If everything could die, then so could he. Death was one of the few things that welcomed all with open arms.

“I will,” Jason said coldly as he walked away, “Find a way to die.”

“A fool,” the man said to himself as Jason picked up his pace, “But worthy of study and further experimentation. The potential is at its highest level yet. I cannot allow him to simply disappear when we’re this close from perfection.”

Jason rushed back to the room. His end would be the knife. He found it laying there, silently grinning, daring him to grasp it. First would be his wrists, then his neck. He would enjoy the pleasure of death. He would finally escape this world.

He tried to grab the knife, only to come up empty handed. He tried again, only to get the same result. Seven times he tried, and seven times death eluded him. The knife mocked the futility of his attempts. He had been betrayed by the knife, the one thing he had trusted.

He spent his days wandering the facility, walking through walls, disregarding all physical objects, ignoring everything that breathed. If death eluded him, he would find it and take it by force. He would prove the knife wrong.

But everything Jason tried failed, to his despair. A ghost had no grasp on the world. There was nothing that could help him die. With every failure, Jason could hear the man chuckling to himself, taking pleasure in Jason’s living pain.

Who would have thought that one could lose hope over death? Jason lost the will to fight, the will to die. There was nothing. Nothing to move on to. Nothing to go back to.

A ghost was a pathetic creature, one incapable of such a simple thing as death.

Infected: Jason

2008-08-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

Still haven't thought of any immediate progression to the story, but I do know where I want to go. I just have to figure out how to get there. Anyway, I have nothing "new" to post, so I'll post what I have so far for the character of Jason :)

#GJYU1590
Jason/Ghost/Surge

18. Male. Foster child.

Abandoned as a baby. Found in a dumpster, left at local police station. Put into foster care. Hardest to care for, but worth the most. Violent, nonchalant, suicidal. Constant fights at school. Attempted suicides foiled by constant watch by foster parents. Has really nothing to live for. Admits to never asking to be alive. Met Sarah at school one day, while running away from a securty guard. Ditched with her. She is the only person that he is affectionate towards. Does no harm to himself during the time he had her. Introduced to her mother and inadvertently her father. Foster care moves him away. Suicide attempts resume. Abducted from an intentional car crash. Only survivor. Only target. Sarah is his only fond memory, the only positive he found in life.

Ghost is a ghost. He is transparent and can pass through physicl objects. He cannot be touched, but he cannot touch anything himself. He is unable to die, and therefore left with nothing else to do but wander.

Surge emerges from Jason's desire to be able and willing to do something. His right arm is composed of electricity, which he generates constantly. He learns how to control the amount of electricity he discharges eventually. He can also absorb electricity, but there is a limit to how much electricity he can keep in his body at one time. By discharging small jolts of electricty and then quickly absorbing them, he can have a small sense of touch.

I Got Past the Writing Block, Only to Find Another One...

2008-08-22T17:56:00.001-07:00

thankfully i have managed to finish off chapter 2 and head into chapter 3, but i'm a little concerned. i think i might have moved too fast, that Jason might be lacking a development i THINK he made. idk. as always, please let me know what you think :)

Jason did not know how long he wandered the facility, walking through walls, disregarding all physical objects, ignoring everything that breathed. If death eluded him, he would find it and take it by force.

But everything Jason tried failed. A ghost had no grasp on the world. There was nothing that could help him die. With every failure, Jason could hear the man chuckling to himself, taking pleasure in his living pain.

Who would have thought that one could lose hope over death? Jason lost the will to fight, the will to die. There was nothing. Nothing to move on to, nothing left to go back to.

Chapter 3
Even ghosts have to sleep, and Jason was no different. But the lights were never off. There was never a room devoid of scientists, who pounded away at their keyboards and scribbled on their clipboards. They were always working. The soldiers were no different, always pacing and making rounds about the facility. They were always ready, with gun in hand.

It was in sleep that Jason found that bits and pieces of some memory came to him. It was the same one every single time.

Flashes of an empty street, followed by the silence in the car. Jason was in the passenger seat with his head against the window, watching the street pass by with yellow lines and white dashes. He never saw the driver. Suddenly there were flashes of fire, a great blaze with Jason in the middle. But everything was silent. The flames devoured everything, but not a sound. Jason always woke up, thinking he was alive.

It was nights like these that he wandered the facility, searching for something to take his mind of the blaze. It was such a night that he discovered the true purpose of the facility.

The soldiers did not care about Jason. The scientists did not care about Jason. No one was bothered by his presence. He was free to roam as he pleased, however futile it may be. They made no effort to hide what they were doing. They knew Jason could do nothing about anything. It was on this night that he discovered about the project, and the experiments that had proceeded him. That man told him everything, the one he met on that first day.

Jason had wandered into a meeting room of sorts. Everything was circular in shape: the chairs, the table, the whiteboard, the room, even some scientists. The light from the projector blinded Jason for an instant, catching his attention. He moved out of the light and watched from the shadows. They ignored him.

Infected: Corruption [Writing Block]

2008-08-16T15:27:00.000-07:00

I seriously cannot think right now. I know where I want to end up but I don't know how to get there :( Since inspiration can't be forced, I'll have to wait and see what I come up with. Anyways, here's what I have written so far...

Chapter 2
It was useless. Jason could not die.

The soldiers eventually stopped, and their cartridges littered the floor. They lingered there for a while, staring Jason down as they awaited orders.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. The soldiers turned their backs on Jason and departed. Jason could care less about what they did. Nothing mattered to him, not as long as he was alive. Who would have thought death would be this hard to obtain?

The footsteps stopped in front of Jason, who stared at the man. He had lost all hope. Now, there was only an emptiness, a life devoid of life.

The man wore a white lab coat over a black collar shirt with a matching pair of dress pants and a pair of Brogues. He adjusted his thin framed glasses as he cleared his throat. The gold ring on his left ring finger caught Jason’s eye. It reminded him of something, a vague memory in his mind. He could not take his eye off it. The black skull engraving, what did it mean?

The man was scribbling something on his clipboard. Jason continued to stare at the man’s ring, determined to find something. If there was anything in life that interested him, it was that man’s ring with the black skull engraved on the golden surface.

“Your death wish,” the man began, “Is impossible. Ghosts do not die. They are bound to live, for eternity.”

Jason refused to believe it. For something to not be able to die, that had to be the impossible. If everything could die, then so could he. Death was one of the few things that welcomed all with open arms.

“I will,” Jason said coldly as he walked away, “Find a way to die.”

“A fool,” the man said to himself, “But worthy of study, and further experimentation. The potential is at its highest level yet, I cannot allow him to die when we’re this close from perfection.”

Jason did not know how long he wandered the facility, walking through walls, disregarding all physical objects, ignoring everything that breathed. If death eluded him, he would find it and take it by force.

Infected: Corruption Chapter 1 (Finished Draft)

2008-08-13T00:01:00.000-07:00

all right. just finished chapter 1 of Infected: Corruption. still attempting to edit it, but i tend to miss a few things :( please help me check for grammar errors, spelling mistakes, etc. :)

Chapter 1

Jason came to, slowly. He barely opened his eyes, noticing their weight from last night. Trying to kill yourself really is tiring.

The lights were blinding. His arm instinctively moved to shelter his eyes with its shade. Jason caught a glimpse of the room. It was bright white, nothing but pure white. He saw a tray with tools on it, something a dentist or other doctor would have.

Jason didn’t know where he was, but it didn’t matter. His body was exhausted, but it didn’t matter. He had even failed at killing himself, or did he? He couldn’t remember, it was all just a giant haze in his memory.

Maybe he was dead, and this is what heaven was like. But then again, he wouldn’t have gone to heaven. No, not him.

“You’re awake! This early? I must report this!” he heard someone say, quickly followed by a door being opened and slammed without concern.

Jason’s eyes got used to the room, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not as long as it kept him alive. He walked over to the tray with the tools. They were definitely not tools found in a doctor’s office. Their edges were all sharpened and they glistened in the bright lights. They looked like something from a horror film in a doctor’s office, like a doctor from Hell or something like that.

Jason saw something that he recognized amongst these tools. A knife. Something simple. Something he knew very well. Something he could use.

He picked it up, and stabbed his eye...

...at least he would have, if he could pick it up. He thought he had missed the first try, maybe his aiming was off because his body was exhausted. He tried again. And again. And again. He couldn’t pick it up. He stared at his hand, only to see the tools clearly through its transparency. He was a ghost. Maybe he did kill himself.

“If only it were true,” he whispered to himself.

There was no reason for him to live. He gave up on living a long time ago. Yet, somehow, every attempt was a failure. It was like the world had conspired against him, as if some unknown contract had been made to keep him alive. A contract with the sole purpose of making him suffer. Really, living was such a pain.

This room could do nothing for him. He walked through the door and into the hall.

Pounding footsteps echoed down the hallway. Jason looked to his left and rejoiced at the sight of soldiers. It almost brought tears to his eyes. He could barely contain himself.

There were eight of them, all armed with submachine guns. They took up a formation, four of them kneeled down and the other four stood above them. All in all, eight rifles for Jason to die by. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

“Shoot me,” he said.

“What?” one of the soldiers asked.

“SHOOT ME!” Jason screamed.

Somewhere down the hallway, in a pure white room, a scientist stood by the door, watching with a sinister joy in his eyes.

“A ghost with a death wish?” he smirked to himself.

“Fire!” commanded another soldier.

Jason raised his head and laid his eyes upon the ceiling. Nothing but pure white, just like the room. He had already said goodbye to this life long ago. There was nothing left but taking the next step, to die.

But the soldiers’ guns eventually ran out of ammo. The gunfire stopped, to Jason’s despair. On a last twinge of hope, he looked for bullet holes. He looked for any kind of wound, even if it was just a scratch. He found nothing. The soldiers reloaded, unknowingly preparing to waste more bullets.

“Why,” Jason lamented, “Can’t I die?”

He had been damned, cursed to live a life he didn’t want. He had accepted death, but life would not let him go. He was doomed to breathe a suffering, to never find the final peace he wanted.

“Fire!” the soldier commanded.

that's it for chapter 1. in other news...

i changed this blog back to its original colors. i liked the picture, too bad i couldn't figure out how to keep it in one spot so the blog was readable (is that even a word? lol) also, i started a separate blog for Infected, but i'm having trouble with colors [again :( ] if anyone can help me out, that'd be great. oh yeah, let me know what you think of this chapter! thanks

Too Disturbing? (Chapter 1 First Draft)

2008-08-11T20:54:00.001-07:00

Chapter 1

Jason came to, slowly. He barely opened his eyes, noticing their weight from last night. Trying to kill yourself really is tiring.

The lights were blinding. His arm instinctively moved to shelter his eyes with its shade. Jason caught a glimpse of the room. It was bright white, nothing but pure white. He saw a tray with tools on it, something a dentist or other doctor would have.

Jason didn’t know where he was, but it didn’t matter. His body was exhausted, but it didn’t matter. He had even failed at killing himself, or did he? He couldn’t remember, it was all just a giant haze in his memory.

Maybe he was dead, and this is what heaven was like. But then again, he wouldn’t have gone to heaven. No, not him.

“You’re awake! This early? I must report this!” he heard someone say, quickly followed by a door being opened and slammed without concern.

Jason’s eyes got used to the room, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not as long as it kept him alive. He walked over to the tray with the tools. They were definitely not tools found in a doctor’s office. Their edges were all sharpened and they glistened in the bright lights. They looked like something from a horror film in a doctor’s office, like a doctor from Hell of something like that.

Jason saw something that he recognized amongst these tools. A knife. Something simple. Something he knew very well. Something he could use.

He picked it up, and stabbed his eye...

...at least he would have, if he could pick it up. He thought he had missed the first try, maybe his aiming was off because his body was exhausted. He tried again. And again. And again. He couldn’t pick it up. He stared at his hand, only to see the tools clearly through its transparency. He was a ghost. Maybe he did kill himself.

hehe. still a first draft. nowhere near finished. just an idea for now.

Infected : Prologue (Final Draft?)

2008-08-10T13:05:00.000-07:00

Just finished the prologue for Infected: Corruption. I might have missed something though, so let me know if something doesn't sound right or if you're confused about something. I'll be happy to fix it :). Anyways, let me know what you think and thank you in advance!

“My name is David Chambers,” the man typed on the computer screen.

The low humming of the hard drive mingled with the raindrops to create a subtle melody to accompany his typing. The man leaned forward in his chair, bad posture from bad habit. His thick framed glasses reflected the light of the computer screen onto itself. His hair was gray and balding, while his frail-looking fingers moved with the vigor of years past.

“I am a former CIA agent, 63, male.”

The room was dim lit and ill-kept. Cigarettes littered the floor, amongst leftover pizza, overdue rental videos, and other forgotten things. The wind hissed through the cracks in the window.

“The war to end all wars,” he typed, “Was only the beginning.”

The man paused for a moment, allowing his memory to guide him. Oddly enough, his first thought was of that day. He remembered her smile, her laughter, her kiss. He remembered the grass swaying gently in a cool, summer breeze. He remembered how the clouds had disappeared just for them, leaving a clear blue sky for them to bask in the sunlight. And then...blood. Nothing but blood...

“It was known as ‘The End’, an apocalyptic nightmare that took us to the depths of Hell itself. No nation was spared of devastation, the nuclear holocaust reached the very ends of the Earth, and almost brought an end to the world.”

He paused again, his fingers lingered on the keyboard. Could he really type this? Could he really put to ink the grim past they had all forgotten? Yes, he decided long ago, he had to, it was his sworn duty to record every single word of history, no matter what.

“But somehow, we survived. An experimental project, called Guardian, had been developed amidst all the bloodshed. It was untested, but humanity’s last hope for survival. The superpowers of the world all had a Guardian, the plans had been leaked somehow. Before the missiles hit here, the former United States of America, the president and several other prominent figures were escorted into and sealed within the Guardian. I was amongst the chosen few, along with several of my fellow CIA agents. Our information would be important in the Reconstruction years.”

He stopped again, resting his hands on his desk. The explosions flooded his mind as he broke out in sweat. It would not be easy, but it had to be done. He took a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead, then continued typing.

“When we, the chosen few, emerged from the Guardian, all that lay before us was a barren wasteland. But that was the peace of it all. No more weapons, no more soldiers, no more war. With science we managed to rebuild, reinvent everything we had lost. The Guardian expanded into a city, and the population grew steadily. We were able to reestablish a life.”

He thought he heard a car outside. He peered out from his window, only to find darkness in the dead hours of the night. He dismissed it as imagination and continued typing.

“We named our new city Genesis, our new beginning. We established a government of sorts. We elected our representatives, ten of the most distinct and trustworthy people, and they consulted each other until they came to an agreement for the good of our Genesis. With their leadership and our science, we continued to rebuild, and even began to prosper.”

The man stopped to stare at the screen. These next few words would be the only ones of their kind, the only truth in this web of lies they had spun. Who would have thought that one man could bring such a utopia down to its knees?

“It was an era of such peace, such tranquility. But, there were those who were not done with war. Those whose ambitions withstood the death of the world. It all began with one man, Vincent Grave.”

The man could have sworn that he had heard footsteps downstairs. He rose from his seat and walked to the door. His hand held onto the doorknob for a moment while he thought to himself. No one visited this damned apartment. He had bribed the landlord to avoid questions about his identity. There were no loose ends. It was probably just his imagination. He returned to his seat and began typing again.

“Known as ‘Gravestone’ amongst his customers, he alone brought about the disruption of our Genesis. No one knows how he had earned a place in the Decagon, sitting alongside our trusted officials. But rumor has it he assassinated the former representative and fixed the voting with bribes, threats, and other dirty tricks. He has provided firearms to criminals, sanctioned the guilty, and rumor also has it that he is privately funding something known only as the Ark Project.”

“I have yet to find out the details, but I have reason to suspect that it is some sort of super-soldier experimentation program, designed for mass production. If such a thing, a super-soldier, were possible, there would be no stopping him. His greed would lead him beyond the gates of Genesis and to the ends of this rotting Earth....”

Suddenly, the door burst open. The man turned around to be blinded by a flashlight. He dropped dead to the floor.

The assassin approached the computer screen. His client had been right. The computer screen was littered with befalling words. His contract was clear. He saw no place the corpse could have hidden a copy of this data, but his client had stressed the importance of “no evidence”. The assassin drenched the corpse in gasoline, and put a cigar to his mouth. He lit it with his lighter, took a few breathes, then dropped the lighter. The blaze was instant.

The assassin left the apartment to burn, all evidence of “Gravestone” lost.

Infected Update

2008-08-08T13:56:00.000-07:00

Infected has spawned a trilogy-ish thing in my mind :) There will be two casts of characters, the past and the present. I've got a really good feeling about this story and am really excited to be writing it. I would like to thank everyone for reading my first attempt and giving me feedback, which helped me to improve my writing skills and techniques.

The first story will be tittled Infected: Corruption. This will be the past story, and will be a prequel, if you can call it that, to the main story. In case you're wondering what the "corruption" is all about, well, that's the story. But just who will become "corrupted"? A big surprise is in store :)

Anyways, I've been working on the prologue, which is not even half done :(, and this is the result of some thinking and writing at 3 in the morning:

Prologue

“My name is David Chambers,” the man typed on the computer screen.

The low humming of the hard drive mingled with the raindrops to create a subtle melody to accompany his typing. The man leaned forward in his chair, bad posture from bad habit. His thick framed glasses reflected the light of the computer screen onto itself. His hair was gray and balding, while his frail-looking fingers moved with the vigor of years past.

“I am a former CIA agent, 63, male.”

The room was dim lit and ill-kept. Cigarettes littered the floor, amongst leftover pizza, overdue rental videos, and other forgotten things. The wind hissed through the cracks in the window.

“The war to end all wars,” he typed, “Was only the beginning.”

The man paused for a moment, allowing his memory to guide him. Oddly enough, his first thought was of that day. He remembered her smile, her laughter, her kiss. He remembered the grass swaying gently in a cool, summer breeze. He remembered how the clouds had disappeared just for them, leaving a clear blue sky for them to bask in the sunlight. And then...blood. Nothing but blood...

“It was known as ‘The End’, an apocalyptic nightmare that took us to the depths of Hell itself. No nation was spared of devastation, the nuclear holocaust reached the very ends of the Earth, and almost brought an end to the world.”

He paused again, his fingers lingered on the keyboard. Could he really type this? Could he really put to ink the grim past they had all forgotten? Yes, he decided long ago, he had to, it was his sworn duty to record every single word of history, no matter what.

“But somehow, we survived. An experimental project, called Guardian, had been developed amidst all the bloodshed. It was untested, but humanity’s last hope for survival. The superpowers of the world all had a Guardian, the plans had been leaked somehow. Before the missiles hit here, the former United States of America, the president and several other prominent figures were escorted into and sealed within the Guardian. I was amongst the chosen few, along with several of my fellow CIA agents. Our information would be important in the Reconstruction years.”

He stopped again, resting his hands on his desk. The explosions flooded his mind as he broke out in sweat.

Yes I changed his last name from Bowen to Chambers. I didn't like the way his name sounded lol. Well, let me know what you think, and thanks in advance.

Infected : Prologue (First Draft-ish)

2008-08-06T00:05:00.000-07:00

This is what I have come up with so far. It still has to be finished :( anyways, tell me what you think about it so far...

"My name is David Bowen," the man typed on the computer screen.

The low humming of the hard drive mingled with the raindrops to create a subtle melody to accompany his typing. The man leaned forward in his chair, bad posture from bad habit. His thick frame glasses reflected the light of the computer screen unto itself. His hair was gray and balding, while his frail-looking fingers moved with the vigor of years past.

"I am a former CIA agent, 63, male."

The room was dim lit and ill-kept. Gigarettes littered the floor, amongst leftover pizza, rental videos, and other forgotten things. The wind hissed through the cracks in the window.

"The war to end all wars," he typed, "Was only the beginning."

...well what do you think? I'm still in the brainstorming stages for a prologue. This was the first idea that came to my head. Oh yeah, in case you were wondering, this character [David Bowen] has no importance to the story at the moment; sorry if I disappointed you :( anyways, i plan on using him as an introductory character (if such a thing exists) to explain the history before the events of the story take place. let me know what you think of this idea, thanks!

My First Failure is My First Step to Success

2008-07-29T22:16:00.000-07:00

nothing ventured nothing gained right? or so they say. anyways, this was my first attempt at writing a story and seeing it through to the end. as you can see, it came off far less than what i wanted. but thanks to your comments, i have seriously thought about what needs to change and what i want to add. the ending was a failed twist with no explanation...sorry about that! :) but the rewriting process is already underway in my head, i really can't stop thinking about this story! but this time, i'll take my time and think things through before i write it out. i'm feeling really good about this rewrite, it's just that i never seem to have enough time for writing :( but hopefully i can have a small part of it to post soon. i'm focusing more on character development, i think i did a little too much action in my first attempt (smiley) i managed to narrow down some characters and flesh them out more. it will be similar and at the same time way different than this first attempt of mine.

i have two problems right now though: where to begin?

Infected takes place in a military base, where "volunteers" are experimented on in an attempt for the "perfect soldier" in the Ark Project. this is where my main character of Ghost comes into play. but i can't decide whether to start the story at: at the base with the bright lights like how i did in my first attempt? or should i take it all the way back to his life before the Ark Project was even conceived? any suggestions/thoughts?

also, should i stay in first person or should i write the story in third person? i really can't decide :( i'm leaning towards first person but would third person make it easier to keep up with everything?

Infected [EX] The End

2008-07-27T18:40:00.000-07:00

I turned to see the others staring at me. I didn’t want their pity. I didn’t want them. I only wanted Cloud. I only needed Cloud. I turned back to her wall of darkness.

I sat down. I would wait for her, wait for eternity to pass.

The others began talking amongst themselves. Talking of who they were, how they got here, plans of escape. I could care less. If Cloud wasn’t there with me, there was no point. I had nothing without her.

That woman came to bother me again.

“Oh my hero!” she called.

I stared at Cloud’s darkness. She drew me closer with her wings.

“I have yet to repay you,” she whispered in my ear.

She wasn’t the one I wanted, the one I needed.

“Move,” I said, “Before I hurt you.”

I turned to face her. My right arm twitched with electricity. I willed a surge, and held it back.

“Oh?” she said as she backed away a bit, “How about this?”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Cloud was standing in front of me. There were no wings. There was no tail. Her eyes were even normal. A beauty. Too good to be true.

I would spare her life, but the not pain.

“Don’t,” I began, “Fuck with me!”

I watched her fly across the room. I enjoyed it. She hit the wall and fell to the floor, her body twitching with electricity.

The others just stared at me. I turned to face Cloud’s darkness.

It’s all her fault. If she hadn’t been there, if she hadn’t been so weak, if she hadn’t been so needy, me and Cloud wouldn’t have come to this. She should die. My right arm surged with the lightning. I couldn’t control it. The power shook my whole body.

I had nothing to return to. Cloud was the only thing keeping me going. I promised her we would make it out of this Hell.

“It’s all her fault!” screamed in my mind. I would hold nothing back. I would get Cloud back. I would kill this bitch.

I burnt her to a crisp. Her body shook violently, then started smoking, then dissolved to ashes. There was no stopping my despair, my fury, my heart.

Darkness surround me. Darkness swallowed my heart. Darkness flooded my eyes. I fell into the arms of Darkness.

There was no turning back. No more mercy! If it weren’t for them, the tortured, I probably could have escaped with Cloud. We could have worked together, much easier than leading a group, to escape and attempt living a normal life, together. That’s all I wanted. To die with her.

---------------------------------------

Ghost had snapped, completely lost himself in Cloud’s darkness, in despair.

“Ghost?” Gale asked, uncertain.

“Surge,” Ghost replied.

“What’s happening?” Gale questioned.

“Can’t you see, samurai?” Rifle said sarcastically, “The poor bastard has lost it. He’s gone now. There ain’t goin’ to be no salvation for us forsaken.”

Rifle took aim, “But I ain’t goin’ to die in this Hell! Not by his hand!”

“I see,” Gale sighed, “No honor. Fine then. Taking his life in such a battle will restore my honor!”

Dymend stood silent over her ashes.

Gale charged. Rifle fired from afar. Surge tried to evade them, but his clumsy body, no longer a ghost, could not adapt quick enough. The bullets pierced his body, Gale’s sword of wind carved his flesh.

“Don’t,” Surge growled, “Fuck with me!”

He unleashed the fury, the lightning bursting from his right arm, from his body, from his own darkness. They weren’t faster than lightning.

The room glowed blue as Dymend stood silent. Two more piles of ashes. But Surge wasn’t done there. His darkness was infinite. His body burst with his fury, lightning drowned the room in his despair, his weakness. Dymend felt nothing, did nothing but stood there, a farewell to ashes.

Surge was exhausted, and turned to find a wall to rest on. And he did. But he stepped on something, something that floated in the air at his sudden intrusion, something dark. There had been no one behind him...

“You killed her,” Dymend said coldly.

“No! I didn’t! No! No. No...” Surge exclaimed.

Something tore at his heart. He clenched his chest. It hurt, her death.

“It can’t end like this!” Surge exclaimed.

“You’ve gone too far, Ghost,” Dymend whispered.

“It’s Surge! Surge!” Surge exclaimed. His right arm let loose his fury, his despair, his weakness, his suffering.

Dymend felt nothing. The lightning was deflected by his diamond skin. He stood in front of Surge, he stood ready.

“We never want to, but it was to be done,” he whispered.

Surge looked up to see his end in a diamond, and was buried there. Diamond stood over him with no regret. But turned his head when someone started clapping.

“Well done,” a man in a gray suit said. There stood only one soldier beside him.

The man walked to stand over the corpse, examining it by eye. “So another one went berserk eh?” he whispered to himself.

Dymend clenched his fist. How dare he! After all of this, experiments still! He moved to end him right then and there. But stopped to see a fist protruding from his chest. Pieces of diamond fell to the floor.

“Nice try,” the man said to Dymend’s face, “But you see, even diamonds shatter.”

The soldier withdrew his arm from the body, and it fell to the floor a corpse. The man walked to exit the room.

“Come now, we have a city to experiment on!” he exclaimed.

The solider removed the restraining clothes. This organic metal was his body, living, breathing, shining. Orders flashed before his eyes, words on a flickering screen.

“Kill him”

“Ark Project?” the man asked, turning around to see what was keeping the experiment from following him.

He was blinded by the light reflected off the metallic skin, and then silenced by the agony of death. Quick, and painful.

The Ark Project walked away, returning to his master...

The End.

-------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note: not what you expected right? it just came to me. don't like it? feel like something's missing? me too. I will attempt to rewrite this one to suit the ending more. The first rewrite came off as a sequel :) I would love any suggestions and/or tips on writing I can get. I'm just an amateur, it's my first story :) Thanks for reading!

News on Infected

2008-07-26T01:44:00.000-07:00

Rewriting Infected is hard work. It's become a lot more complicated than I had anticipated :( Actually, I think the rewrite has somehow managed to warp itself into a separate story, or possibly a sequel :) What I'm trying to say is this: I'm thinking about continuing Infected where I left off, and hopefully finishing it with a few twists and turns. Now my question to anyone reading this is...

Should I?

Hospital

2008-07-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

It was 3 in the afternoon. The same breeze blew in through the window as any other day. The machines still beeped and buzzed. Roy still didn't know what they were for. He found them useless. He was dying after all.

He hated to be hooked up to these machines. He hated the IV. He hated the room. He hated the nurses for cleaning up his bed, only to have him mess it up again. If there's no chance of living, what's the point of trying? he thought.

She sat to his left, in front of the window, on a chair that had been wheeled in by the nurse. She hardly said anything to him. She just sat there in silence with him. But he knew what she was trying, and that's something that continued to kill him.

"It's useless," he whispered, his back turned to her, "Go home."

She said nothing, but he heard her trying to stifle back tears.

"I," he stuttered, swallowing to clear his voice, "don't love you."

She stomped her foot on the floor as she stood up in a hurry.

"You," she started, "You idiot!"

She ran out of the room, almost knocking down his nurse. The nurse entered the room. He had done this before, but this was the first time he had told her such a lie.

Her nametag read "Mary". She adjusted the machines if they needed adjusting, but mostly she just recorded the data. But she had been watching the two of them for some time now. This was a first.

"Why?" she asked him.

"I don't," he stammered.

The girl had stopped down the hall, he hand on the exit door. She wiped her tears away and began to walk back to his room. She would tell him, and he would have to hear it. she was just outside his door.

"I don't want her to love a dead man, a corpse."

"Too late! You, you idiot!" she screamed into the room. She ran outside this time. The door slammed shut on her way out.

"Who is she?" Mary asked. She knew.

"Her name is Vanessa," Roy answered.

"Oh, a special girl?" Mary asked. She knew this one too.

"No. No. She's," his voice wandered off, thinking, "She's just a friend."

"A special friend?"

"No. Just a childhood friend. Just part of my past. Just a girl. She's," he broke off again, thinking, "Just the past."

"Keep fooling yourself," Mary said as she left the room.

Roy rolled over on his side. He knew the date they had given him.

"So, I'm going to die on my birthday?" he whispered to himself, "On my eighteenth birthday, the day where dreams are realities, where possibilties are new doors to open. The day when I promised her..."

He rolled over to his other side. That's right. He had promised her. His eighteenth birthday. He promised to take her, promised to take her with him.

"Life's a bitch," he mumbled.

The machines ceased beeping and buzzing. The wind died down. There was a siren outside...

---------------------------------------------

Vanessa had cried herself to sleep last night. She told herself that today would be the day. He had promised her. She had promised herself. That promise meant nothing. It was old. She had something else to tell him. Something she never told him. Something he didn't know. Something important.

Her heart was already skipping beats from thinking about it. She walked down the hallway to his room. There was a frenzy going on, but it was a hospital after all. It was to be expected. His door was closed. That never happened.

She opened the door slowly.

"Roy?" she whispered, "Are you awake?"

Silence.

"Roy?"

She walked in, slowly. There was no breeze. The window was closed. The bed was made. The machines were gone. The room was empty.

"Roy!?"

She searched the room. Outside the window. Under the bed. She had to tell him now, today. Today was the day.

"Roy!"

The nurse entered the room. Her nametag read "Mary". Vanessa stood up, looked her in the eyes.

"Roy?"

"He's," she paused.

She knew that look. The look that says, "I'm about to break." But she couldn't tell her. Not with that look.

"You are not his family. Therefore, I have no obligation to tell you of the patient's current whereabouts."

Vanessa sat on the bed, to Mary's surprise.

"He's dead, isn't he?" she whispered.

"Y-yes," Mary said, "Unfortunately."

"Today was the day," Vanessa whispered, "Today was the day that I would tell him. Today was the day he promised me..."

Vanessa collapsed on the floor. She was motionless. Mary put her fingers against her neck. No pulse.

"Doctor!"

----------------------------------------------

"Keep fooling yourself," Mary said, about to close the door.

"I don't," he started. Mary waited.

"I don't want her to die," he whispered, "When I die..."

Teenage Today

2008-07-22T01:52:00.000-07:00

"I might be pregnant," she mumbled over the phone.

"Oh shit," I said without thinking.

She hung up. I hung up. We both needed some time to think. Turns out one night can ruin your whole life. There was no way we could keep this a secret. We couldn't raise a baby on our own, not while in high school. It just wasn't possible. There were options though. We could put the baby up for adoption. She could get an abortion. We could struggle to raise it on our own, the most troublesome of the three.

Her parents found out. They told my parents. My parents freaked out. They were yelling so loud that I thought one of the neighbors would call the cops on us. But there were no sirens, only yelling.

I called her again.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

There was a pause.

"I want to keep it," she said.

Just Living

2008-07-11T00:02:00.000-07:00

My sister is spoiled. Rotten to the core. It's not as hard as you might think to say. My sister is spoiled. It's easy, you see? She's shown me nothing to deter my decision. She is spoiled. She is the youngest. I am the middle child.

My older sister is the perfect daughter. Perfect until it's sickening. She's organized to pencils and pens, polite to everyone, and moderate to wearing just plain old clothes out in public.

I am the middle child. I've said that before huh? There's nothing special about me. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing to write home to mom about. I played sports, or at least, I tried. I was just another guy passing through schools. I wasn't at the top, but I wasn't at the bottom either. I don't dress fancy. I don't dress raggy. I just...dress...casually.

My little brat of a sister is spoiled for sure. She'll make a mess and leave it for you to pick up. When you don't, suddenly it's your fault. She locks herself in her imaginary tower of a castle of a room. She won't tell what she's doing. She walks into a room and suddenly everything belongs to her. You want to slap some sense into her, but you can't. She's too little. But she's so spoiled.

Dad's always working, "providing" for the family. Yeah, sure, whatever. Tell that to my three step families. The flirt, I don't know why I had to be his son. I wish I had a different father, a better father, a decent father.

Mom is always drinking, attempting to drown her sorrow with herself in her elixir of alcohol. She does nothing all day but lay in bed, recovering from a hangover, only to drink again late into the night and early morning. She flaunts his money, maybe for revenge. But I think it's damaging. She's in the hospital now. It's not the first time, but I bet it won't be the last time.

Anyway, this is my life, my suffering for a sin unknown to me. I don't what I did to deserve it, but I'm doing my time. I'm just trying to make a life out of this.

Bye

2008-07-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

Why does no one say "bye" or "goodbye" at the end of phone calls anymore? They just hand up when they feel the conversation is over, while i'm left speaking to no one. did i miss something? I hate it when they don't speak during the conversation too, I don't know if they hang up already or what. I'm left to wait on the phone like an idiot until I ask "hello? you there?". I don't know, the whole thing pisses me off. It's like we're so short on time that we can't waste our breath to say a "goodbye" or something like that. It's like we can't afford the time, can't afford the minutes.

Future

2008-07-10T01:02:00.000-07:00

I hate it when they ask me who I want to be. Can't I just be me? Can't I just live in the present? Why does it always have to be about what I will do? Why can't it be about what I am doing? Is the future so damn important that it takes priority over the present?

One can get so lost in the future that they lose sight of the present. She could be calling him, but he wouldn't notice because he's already planning the marriage. There's no love there, no substance, nothing. I'd hate to live like that.

And what will they do when their plans crumble? When everything just falls apart, can they deal with the pain? The reality? If you live in the present, you still have time, to change the future, to change your future...

ARGH

2008-06-30T18:22:00.000-07:00

so yeah i don't like how this story is going. mainly the thing that's bothering me is the character development. a little too much action. i want to start fresh. REWRITING TIME! thanks to everyone who took the time to read it, and thanks to those who gave me feedback. i can now go and fix what's wrong (hopefully) and maybe post it again, under a new tittle.

Infected [EX] #6

2008-06-30T10:42:00.001-07:00

“Cloud!,” I called, “Let him go!”

She looked at me, then looked at Grim, then at me again. She finally loosened her grip around his neck and let go.

“Blood!” Grim cried.

“Not so fast,” I said, aiming at him with my left arm, barely holding on to the lightning at the tips of my fingers. Grim froze. He couldn’t dodge lightning.

Dymend rose up from his place on the floor, and walked over to Grim. I was relieved to know he was still alive. He calmly walked over to Grim.

“No,” Grim muttered, “Blood?”

Dymend took a hold of Grim by the arms, and actually lifted him a foot off the ground. Grim struggled to free himself. He kicked the air, and even tried biting Dymend. He quickly closed his mouth, the pain visible on his face. Eventually, he gave up.

The purple haired woman walked to me, and gazed into my eyes. I gazed back into hers. Her angelic wings covered her nakedness. There was something in her face, something that I had seen before, something familiar.

“My hero!” she cried as she hugged me with her wings.

“Wha-” was all I could manage to say before she pulled me close to her with her wings and kissed me.

She was passionate. Enthusiastic. A very good kisser. She pushed, and I pushed back. It was wonderful.

But something kept nagging me. Something in the back of my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it. All I could think of were her lips, this kiss, her naked body, all underneath the cover of her wings. We kept kissing.

Then the darkness settled in, and she broke away. I didn’t want it to end. She backed away from me. This could only be Cloud.

“Oh shit!” I thought to myself.

“What’s happening?” the woman said in a shaky voice.

“Cloud!” I called.

She didn’t answer.

“Cloud!” I called again.

“It’ll be alright,” I called to the woman.

“Cloud!”

The darkness finally lifted. I helped the woman back to her feet and made sure she was alright. I looked for Cloud. Her face was buried in the wall. Her body shuddered. Tears fell to the floor.

I tried to approach her, but the darkness was overwhelming. I stepped back to she had erected a wall of darkness. She did not want to be bothered.

I couldn’t help it. I tried to run in and hopefully reach the wall and find her, but I ended up running back into the light. Somehow I had been turned around. I tried one more time, only to get the same result.

“Fuck,” I said to myself.

Infected [EX] #5

2008-06-29T20:10:00.001-07:00

We both turned our heads to see. There was a bare naked, purple-haired woman holding the side of her neck. Her angelic wings, too big for her body, flapped wildly in pain. Eventually they settled down and draped over her, concealing her nakedness.

The woman had yelled at the man in front of her. His long grey hair cast over his yellow cat eyes. He was in a crouched position, looking up at the woman. His clothing gave hint to an age: a pair of jeans ripped at the knees, a muscle shirt with tears across the chest, and worn out white sneakers. He reminded me of me, back then, but without this curse we breathe.

“Beautiful woman,” he growled, “Delicious blood!”

He lunged at her. She was too slow. He pinned her to the ground, his hands holding her arms to the ground.

“This time,” he snarled, “I won’t be as gentle!”

He bent his head down to the other side of her neck. He opened his mouth, revealing his four fangs. She struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. His fangs were just inches away from her neck.

“I will savor this,” he growled, “The moment I drank the blood of a beauty!”

“Help!” she cried, “Someone get this bastard off of me!”

Suddenly, he leapt off of her, just as two shots were fired, landing at either side of the woman. The man checked himself, then stared death into his attacker.

“Next time,” Rifle said as he took aim, “I won’t miss!”

Rifle had both guns aimed at the man.

“It seems you would like to take her place,” he snarled, “So be it. Blood is blood!”

He lunged at Rifle, and Rifle fired. The man was airborne, no human could dodge one, or even two bullets in that position. But he did. He spun in midair and the bullets flew past him and lodged themselves into the wall.

Rifle fired again and again, but only lodged more bullets in the wall. The man reached Rifle, but was met with both guns against his chest and head, point blank range.

“I don’t miss!” Rifle yelled as he fired.

No corpse fell to the floor. The man wasn’t where he was a second ago. Rifle searched furiously for the man. When turned around, he was pinned to the floor.

“Blood!” the man snarled as he brought his fangs to Rifle’s neck.

The room went dark for a moment. I couldn’t see a thing. When the light returned, Cloud had her tail wrapped around the man’s neck, choking him. She pulled his head back, and even went further to pull him off of Rifle with just her tail. Rifle got up quick and took aim, but Cloud glared at him. He glared back, but backed off.

“Your name?” she whispered.

“Grim,” the man managed to say.

Infected [EX] #4

2008-06-29T19:50:00.001-07:00

“What the hell is going on Ghost?” Cloud asked. It was then she felt it, or remembered it, whichever came first she reacted. Her eyes opened wide, and she screamed. Her wings fully extended, and her tail thrashed about.

I ran to her side. “Cloud! Cloud! Stay with me! Don’t give in! Stay with me!” I pulled her close to me, “Stay with me. Please. Cloud.”

Her scream fizzled out, and she remained silent for a while. No one else in the room mattered. It was just me and Cloud. Just us. Forever.

She buried her face in my chest. Her tears dripped down my body. Her body shivered with each sob. I could only hold her close. I would keep her close.

“What,” she asked, her voice muffled by my chest, “Have they done to us Ghost?”
Her wings had retracted and folded behind her back. Her tail had settled down and lay still on the floor.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I don’t know.”

I couldn’t think of anything comforting. There was no comfort in a place like this. I kept her there, in my arms. I held her close. I swore to myself that I would keep her close. When we got out of here, she would be right there, by my side. I wouldn’t have it happen any other way. I wouldn’t let it happen any other way. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered.

We sat there, my arms wrapped around her. We were silent, thinking, staring at the wall. I wish time would just stop for a second so I could just spend it with Cloud.

But no, time doesn’t stop for things like us.

“You bastard!” echoed throughout the room.

Infected [EX] #3

2008-06-27T02:03:00.000-07:00

It took a while, but I was able to get up from the floor. I stumbled to Cloud’s side.

“Cloud,” I whispered, “Are you still with me?”

She was still as stone.

“Please,” I whispered, “Don’t...don’t leave me. Not yet. Just...not yet.”

“Ark V-1. Engage!” came from a speaker.

I heard something falling down. We all looked up to see what the hell was going on. Our eyes followed it until it landed in the middle of the room. We all just stared at it. We didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know just what was going on in all of us. It made the first move.

It kicked me out of the way before I knew what was going on. I hit the wall, hard. I had forgotten what pain had felt like. One of the advantages of being a ghost was, there was no pain, no one could touch you. I fell on my right side, and looked to see that thing standing above Cloud.

It was made of some sort of metal. It was skin, but it was metal. It held a pistol in its left hand and a katana in its right hand. It wore odd armor on its waist. It was shaped in an X, with the center being at the waist and the edges extending halfway down its thighs and halfway up its ribs.

“Experiment ZTKC1625. Terminate.” it said in a computer-generated voice. It aimed for Cloud’s head with the pistol, and fired.

It was all reaction. I was fed up with being helpless. If I could take pain, I could give pain. My left arm extended, aiming for its head. I felt something like a jolt leave my left arm. I looked to see the thing flying across the room, hitting the opposite wall hard. I amazed myself. I rushed to Cloud’s side.

“Cloud!” I said, “Wake up! Come on, wake up! Cloud!”

It wasn’t done yet. It went straight for my head with the katana. I had no time to react. The only thing I managed was to turn my head away. I wouldn’t watch myself die.

But it was stopped. I looked to see Gale standing in front of me. He was in a deadlock with his own katana of wind, using only his right arm.

“Experiment QSRG1795. Disposable.” it said as it raised its pistol and fired.

The bullets just hung in the air. Gale’s eyes were glowing green, and the familiar green aura enshrouded his body. He had kept his original mutation. Gale grabbed the pistol with his dragon arm, and smashed it to pieces in one motion. Its left hand seemed to be crippled as well. It backed away from Gale for a moment. Cloud was still unconscious.

It went right back at Gale in an instant. They were evenly matched. Gale would not use his left arm. He wasn’t used to fighting with it. Hell, he wasn’t used to moving or living with it for that matter. It would be a stalemate, unless Gale tired. That thing showed no signs of fatigue, no signs of anything. Its face was completely emotionless, no expression whatsoever.

Gale, on the other hand, was starting to breathe harder. He wouldn’t last much longer. I had to do something, so I did. I stood up, raised both arms, and fired. Luckily, Gale saw me and rolled out of the way. The thing had just enough time to turn around as the lightning surged forth from my hands. I could hear its systems melting. Its body was in some sort of seizure from the overload. I finally stopped, exhausted. The thing fell to the floor, still twitching.

“Ghost? Is that you?” Cloud said faintly.

Infected [EX] #2

2008-06-26T20:27:00.001-07:00

I jerked awake as my body writhed with pain. I didn’t have long to gather myself. I heard the door open, and the next thing I knew I was ejected out of the capsule. My body hit the floor, hard. I tried to get up, but my body didn’t know how. It had been so long since I was this close to normal. All I managed was to turn my head, to get a better look at the chaos.

The room was filling with gas, and fast. You would think enough is enough, but not for them. The sick bastards will experiment on experiments until they die. So much for life.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Cloud screeched.

I turned to look her way, only to see her crouched over herself on the floor in the same pain. But something was wrong, or should I say worse. Something worse than the surge killing my body. Something worse than the pain of my own death.

Something started to sprout from her back. Something darker than black. It sprouted from her shoulder blades, and kept going. Her screams did nothing to stop it. I wanted to do something, but my body would not cooperate. Demon wings. They burst out of her back in an instant, and she collapsed. It was then that I noticed a tail. A demonic tail. There are no other words to describe what she had grown, what I hoped she had not become. I could only hope my Cloud was, well, herself, despite this place.

I looked elsewhere, and saw other experiments. Among them were the three who had followed me. Ink was nowhere to be found.

Gale was kneeling on his left knee, leaning on his left hand. His right arm rested on his right knee. He was quiet, too quiet in this chaos. Then it started. I saw it in his eyes. They glowed a bright green, and the tempest rose all around him. It dispersed some of the gas in the room. But that was not the mutation. It was his left arm. It grew bigger, and longer, and green scales. His fingernails mutated into claws. His arm looked something like that of a dragon. He only looked at it, horror on his face.

I heard shots being fired, and turned to see Rifle. He was shooting at the ceiling, out of his mind. Shooting like there was no tomorrow. Shooting out of pain. It was his left arm as well. The mutation was another rifle for an arm, bending at the trigger. He looked at it only for an instant. He fired both at the ceiling, cursing them at the top of his lungs.

Dymend held his head with both hands. His eyes were shut tight. He was silent, but the pain was unforgiving. He couldn’t take anymore. He looked up at the ceiling, and screamed at the top of his lungs. He then bent over and started punching the ground. He held nothing back. He gave it all he had. Anything to dull out the pain. The ground shook with every punch, only adding to the chaos. He stopped suddenly, his fists buried in the floor, and collapsed, face first, unconscious.

The surge bursted inside my body again, and I was drowning in my pain. My body tossed and turned on the floor, flailing limbs towards the ceiling. I couldn’t control it. I was glowing blue. something like lightning shot off from my whole body. The floor was cold.

In an instant, the chaos stopped. No more screaming. No more movement. Even I was still. We had all realized it. None of us wanted to believe it. But we had to come to grips with it, to maintain some sort of sanity. Those bastards had infected us again.

Infected [EX] #1

2008-06-24T18:12:00.000-07:00

I came to and saw Cloud’s face, inches from mine.

“Cloud!” I said. I couldn’t help it. I thought we were all goners. But something was wrong. He eyes were closed, her body was slack. I heard the soldier cock his rifle.

“Try to escape and she dies,” he said, “Follow us and she doesn’t die? Simple enough for ya?”

His finger twitched on the trigger. I didn’t want to see Cloud die. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

“Fine,” I said.

There were four other soldiers, all armed with the same assault rifles. The soldier held Cloud hostage in a headlock. He backed out the hole in the wall, never removing his gun from the side of Cloud’s head. The other four followed me as I followed the soldier.

We came out into a desert, a barren desert with nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. There was no life. From there we went underground, entering from a tunnel not far from the hole in the wall. It was sealed with steel doors, requiring a code to be entered in a number pad located on the bottom right corner of the door. One of the soldiers following me entered the code. The one holding Cloud hostage never moved his gun, never looked away from me. He only waited for the soldier to input the code and for the doors to open. He continued backing up once they did.

Cloud was still unconscious. At least I hoped she was only unconscious. If she was dead, I wouldn’t know what to do. This would all be meaningless. But I couldn’t risk her life. I wouldn’t risk my life. So I followed them into the pits of Hell.

The tunnel was cold and damp, sharp contrast to the aridity of the desert above ground. Water soaked the walls and dripped from the ceiling. I could only wonder how they had constructed it.

We came to another sealed steel door, and another code was entered. The soldier continued to keep his eyes on me. He continued to hold Cloud hostage in a headlock. The doors opened, and we went inside. The doors shut tight behind us. There was no easy way out.

The chamber had a circular floor and rounded walls. Smooth, steel walls. Smooth, steel floor. Cold as ice. One of the soldiers shivered.

There were large capsules against the walls of the room. I would have counted them if the soldier didn’t keep backing up with Cloud. He backed up to one capsule and opened it, never taking his eyes off of me. The capsule was human sized. Actually, there was room for five humans. He tossed Cloud into the capsule and shoved the barrel of his rifle against her forehead.

“Get in there, or I’ll kill her right here, right now,” he said as he pointed to another capsule adjacent to the one Cloud was in. Its door was open.

I had no choice. I couldn’t rescue her. I couldn’t touch her. But I wanted to be with her.

I floated into the other capsule, and the door shut tight. The soldier slammed Cloud’s doors shut. I was about to float back out, but I heard valves open.

“Not again,” I sighed as I was gassed yet again. I could barely make out Cloud in her gas-filled capsule.

Then I heard her scream.

“Cloud!” I yelled, pounding my hands against the transparent door.

!!!

I didn’t have time to think, a surge went throughout my body. It was focused in my hands. I looked at them more closely. I found them in a aura of blue electricity. Then, pain. It just hurt. I didn’t know what or why, but it just hurt. I couldn’t take anymore. My body was being drained, writhing each second in pain. I was exhausted. I was at my limit. I had to be dying.

My head fell back from exhaustion, and collided with the back of the capsule. My body just gave in, and I collapsed to the bottom of the capsule, no longer a ghost, but still an abomination.

Infected: #15 Final

2008-06-23T16:11:00.000-07:00

“Who’s in there?” Rifle asked as we sped down the corridor.

“Someone,” I began, “Someone very important to me.”

Dymend was standing in front of the door, blocking any entrance into the room. I only hoped his diamond body would be able to withstand their bullets.

I floated through him and into the room.

“Cloud!” I called.

The darkness in the corner dissipated as she came out of hiding. I finally got to see her. I wanted to tell her, so badly. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to just be there with her. But there was no time.

“Ink! Cloud! Take cover!”

Cloud took Ink by the hand and hid both of them in her darkness in the corner. I floated back out to the corridor. They had already started.

Rifle was taking cover behind Dymend, picking off the soldiers one by one with incredible accuracy. He didn’t waste a shot.

Dymend just stood there. The bullets just bounced off of him and buried themselves into the walls, floor, and ceiling. I assumed he had agreed to be Rifle’s shield.

Gale was running towards the soldiers. Bullets were useless against his wind. He quickly formed his katana and began to cut the soldiers down. His moves were so precise, so deadly.

They worked surprisingly well together. Rifle never shot Gale, Gale never got in the way of Rifle’s shots. Dymend was the perfect shield.

But I saw more soldiers coming. There were already more soldiers than the facility had. They must have called for reinforcements. They must have seen our activity. That first batch of soldiers had only been for cautionary measures. Just a scout unit, sent to see how organized we were. They were trying to outnumber us, but we still had the advantage. Or at least I thought we did.

I saw Gale go down. He was tackled by a group of soldiers, and shot in the back. Apparently he could only stop so many bullets at once with his wind. They advanced towards Dymend and Rifle. Dymend rushed them, and Rifle continued to fire. He took out a few soldiers, but reinforcements flooded the corridor.

Dymend was inches away from a soldier before he fell, unconscious. Gas continued to spread throughout the corridor. Rifle retreated to inside the room.

I wanted to kill myself. It was killing me anyways. Not being able to fight. Not being able to hold Cloud. Not being able to save them. Not being able to do anything. Only able to watch. It was true torture.

Rifle slammed the door shut.

“Shit!” he said.

“We have to-” I began.

The back wall exploded. Rubble flew everywhere. A chunk almost crushed Rifle’s head. Cloud and Ink were thrown to the floor by the explosion. I could only watch as soldiers moved in. Rifle kept shooting, and I thought he had a chance, until they threw in the gas grenades. Cloud tried to hide in her darkness, but the gas got her first. Ink was motionless. The gas took us all out. Ink, Cloud, Rifle, me, and the soldiers. The last thing I saw was the door bursting open, and more soldiers entering the room. Then it all went dark...

The End?

Infected: #14

2008-06-22T14:42:00.001-07:00

All I had heard were screams while moving down the corridor. I decided to wait for the man to wake up. Gale had laid him on the floor, and held his katana to the man’s throat, just in case. Gale was focused on the man’s eyes, aware of any slight movement. I kept thinking about Cloud. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, no matter how hard I tried. I had to see her again, and soon. I decided then that I would go see her, as soon as this man woke up, whether he joined us or not.

“He awakens!” Gale exclaimed.

The man’s eyelids rose little by little. His eyes were still bloodshot. He still pointed his gun at my face. Gale would have killed him if I hadn’t waved him off. He couldn’t hurt me anyways.

“Do you want to escape from this Hell?” I asked.

“Depends,” he said, “What do you want with me?”

“We need your help,” I said, “To break out of here, we all need to work together.”

“And then what?” he asked.

“And then,” I stuttered, “and then...”

I really hadn’t planned that far yet. I just wanted to get out of here. With Cloud. I wanted to escape with Cloud. Start a new life. Start all over. Make something out of nothing. Try to live with some meaning. To find a purpose despite a lost life...

But I stuttered. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know the right words to say, to convince him that we could escape with our lives. To convince him that we could make something of these lives.

“Just as I thought,” he said coldly, “You don’t have a plan, do you? I didn’t think so.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. He was right. What was I thinking? What was I believing? Maybe Hell was getting to me...

“In cowards there are heroes,” Gale said, “In heroes there are cowards. Face your fears, overcome yourself. What are you running from?”

Gale stared at the man while asking this question. The man rose up from the floor, and put himself face to face with Gale. The two glared at each other for a moment, then the man lowered his head and stared at the floor for a while. Gale still held his head up high.

“Running eh?” the man muttered to himself, “I’m running from you. I’m running from myself, from the monster I’ve become.” He looked at his mutated rifle for an arm. The words came to me then. I could speak again.

“After we escape,” I said, “We can rebuild our lives. Start over from scratch. We can form a community underground if we have to. A community for all of us whose lives they’ve taken away. We can live for something.”

He looked up to me, faith in his eyes. Bloodshot, but trusting. The familiar black ink wrote “Rifle” on his left forearm. He removed his gun from my face.

“Where do we start?” Rifle asked.

“She’s at the end of the Containment Corridor! Move, move, move!” echoed a commanding voice down the corridor.

Footsteps pounded the floor. Guns and body armor cackled with the movement. They had come back, like I thought they would.

“We start by falling back to the room at the end of this corridor,” I told Gale and Rifle. They nodded in agreement. “We have to protect that room!”

I knew Dymend was there. I knew Cloud could hide Ink if it came down to it. But I had to make sure. I had to see Cloud again. I worried about her. I couldn’t help it. I needed her. I didn’t know our full abilities. I only caught a glimpse of each of our skills, but this would put all of us to the test. If I could get to them better, and what they could do, we might be able to pull off the escape from this Hell.

Infected: #13

2008-06-22T14:40:00.000-07:00

I had found the two of the three allies Ink had named.

“A cruel gun.”

I could only imagine what he or she would be like. I could only imagine their appearance, their personality, their motivations. And from what I had imagined, the worst, I did not like it. I could only keep going down the corridor, with Gale following. I could only listen for the silence and hope for the best.

It was a while before there was a silence again. Gale had not flinched during the whole camouflage. The screams did not bother him. I wondered if he meditated while he walked. His breathing was calm and his eyes looked straight ahead, through me. He still held his blade of wind in his hand, at his side.

I was about to float into the room, but a bullet flew through the door, me, and entered the room across from us. I checked to see if I was alive, like a fool. My hand went through my chest, looking for a bullet. Gale took stance, his sword ready. I watched to see what happened next.

I heard another gunshot, and the latch flew off the door. I waited there. Gale waited there. The door opened slowly. One leg first. Then an arm. Then a body and head. Then the rest. He closed the door slowly, and then pointed his gun at my head.

His right arm was the gun. It was a rifle with no trigger. It was an arm. It was both. It was pointed at my head. He fired. Right then and there. The bullet went into the wall. He fired again and again, making holes in the wall. Gale moved behind him, blade to his throat. He finally stopped firing. His eyes were eerie. They were bloodshot, and cold. It was if they had seen great horror, like they had seen Hell itself and never blinked.

“I ain’t going quiet,” he said.

He had a crew cut and wore a white long sleeve with only the left sleeve. The right sleeve had been ripped off. He also wore a pair of green camouflage pants, like the ones worn in the army. He never took his eyes off me. Gale waited.

Suddenly he pointed his gun at Gale’s face, his arm bending where the trigger would be. He fired once. Gale knocked him unconscious. I looked at Gale to see a bullet floating in front of his face. His eyes were glowing green, and a green aura glowed around his body. He had caught the bullet with wind. I was so relieved.
“Cowardice,” Gale said.

“In every coward is a hero. In every hero is a coward,” I heard myself say. Gale nodded in acknowledgment.

“Can you carry him?” I asked.

Gale picked up the man and laid him on his shoulder. He dispersed the wind, and the green aura faded.

He followed me as I continued down the corridor. I wondered what I should do. Surely this couldn’t be a whole army. Maybe I should find more myself. Maybe Ink was only guiding me. Maybe I was supposed to recruit more on my own. I kept listening for the silence amongst the screams.

Infected: #12

2008-06-20T08:53:00.001-07:00

It wasn’t far from Gale’s room that there was another absence of agony. I floated in while Gale cut the latch off and opened the door.

He was staring out a small hole in the wall, his back turned to us. He only wore the remains of a pair of jeans, from his waist to the middle of his thigh and was bald. His body was entirely composed of diamond. The faint light in the room reflected off his body, giving him a slight aura of gray light. He heard Gale cut the latch off and open the door, and turned to face us.

“A shield of diamond,” echoed in my mind.

He walked to me, and stared at me. Rather, stared down at me. He was huge. His head was just inches from the ceiling, and if he stretched his arms out, he could probably touch both walls. He said nothing. He just stared at me, or through me and at Gale. I couldn’t tell. He didn’t breathe. It looked like he didn’t need to. Gale still held his blade of wind in his hand, at his side.
I heard myself speak:

“Every sword needs a shield. Every shield needs a sword. For a diamond to shine, it should be in the sun.”

He made no move. He only stared. We all looked at his left forearm to see the ink taking shape. “Dymend” was written in the same black ink. He nodded in agreement.

“What do you need of me?” Dymend asked.

It took me a moment to think. No words came out of my mouth automatically like before.

“A guardian. The room at the end of the corridor,” I said. He could protect Ink, Cloud, the room. With him I could ensure their safety. Those soldiers were searching the whole facility. They were sure to return. With Dymend, at least I would have some time to get there and help.

He walked through me, and burst through the door opening, taking down the whole wall. Gale had to jump out of the way. I could only hope he wouldn’t do the same thing when he got to the end of the corridor.

“His honor is broken,” I heard Gale mutter to himself as he picked himself up from the floor.

Infected: #11

2008-06-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

A scientist opened the door and entered the room. He looked at us, then at his clipboard. He wrote something down and then looked at the green dragon.

“Experiment #QSRG1795,” he said.

“It is against my honor,” the man said.

A violent wind took hold of the room. The papers on the clipboard came loose and flew in chaos.
I looked at the scientist, and saw him turn blue in the face. He was grabbing his throat with his hands, struggling to breathe. He turned toward the door and tried to run, but he was only running in place. I looked at the man with the green dragon, and saw that the source of the sudden wind was his hand. A green aura took hold of his body, and his eyes glowed with a bright green.
The scientist eventually collapsed, dead. But the green dragon did not stop there, the tempest raged on.

Another scientist ran into the room. He wore an oxygen mask and had two tanks of oxygen strapped to his back. He looked ridiculous.

“I told you so,” I heard him mutter to the corpse. He held a taser in his hand, and pointed it in the green dragon’s direction. The tempest came to rest, and the papers fluttered to the floor.

“You hold no honor,” the man said, “it is a shame my blade will be stained with your forsaken blood.”

Another wind took hold of the room, but it was not a chaotic tempest like before. The wind seemed to be concentrated in his outstretched hand. It was taking form. The man had never looked away, and continued to stare death into the scientist.

The wind began to die down, and in the man had crafted a sword of wind in his hand.

The next thing I heard was the scientist’s head fall to the floor, followed by his body. The green dragon showed no remorse. The wind dispersed from the man’s hand.

“A deadly blade of wind,” Ink’s words played over in my mind.

“Ghost, why do you haunt me?” he asked again.

“Peace does not exist here. A sword is all that they see, and a sword they shall have, pierced through their hearts,” I heard myself say, “Salvation’s light can only guide the way. The sword must cut the path.”

He stood in silence, and took it all in. So did I. I couldn’t help but wonder where those words had come from. Maybe Ink was rubbing off on me?

“You have honor. You have my sword. You have my life,” the man said as he kneeled in my direction. A wind pulled up his right sleeve, revealing his bare right forearm. We both watched in awe as “Gale” was written on his forearm in black ink.

“Gale it is then,” he said.

“Come,” I told him as I continued down the corridor, trying to figure out how that had happened. Ink was in her room, for sure. Did she write something on me? Could she have written something on me? Would that have given me some power or something like that? Isn’t it impossible to touch me? Was it her or was it me? I was so confused, but there were still others that I needed.

Infected: #10

2008-06-19T13:08:00.000-07:00

It wasn’t easy floating down that Containment Corridor. So many screams, so much pain, I went half-insane just floating down it. I couldn’t imagine my sanity if I was caged in it. Those allies Ink had spoken of, they had to be here. There was no other place that housed experiments. This was it, Hell.

The doors of every room were latched shut. There were no signs on the doors. There was no distinguishing mark or difference between any two rooms. I would have to into the rooms, a feat that I didn’t think I was capable of. It wasn’t getting in that was the problem, it wasn’t getting out, it was what was inside the room that was the problem. Would I be able to talk to them? Would I be able to look at them? Would I be able to recruit them? They were my fellow people, but most looked nothing like the life they had lost.

Floating along, I found it odd that there was a silence, an absence of screams. There was one every few rooms. I found it amazing that I had not noticed it before. I decided these would be the first rooms I tried. I began at one end of the corridor, and would finish with Ink’s room. The first rooms on my right and left were both silent. I tried the left one first.

I floated in, only to find a corpse rotting. If I could have vomited, I would have. Flies were gathering on the feast. I quickly left the room. Not exactly what I wanted to find on the first try.

Gaining back my composure, I entered the room on the right. This time, the experiment was at least breathing.

He was in a meditative state, at least that’s what I assumed. He was on both knees, with his body bent down so that his forehead was against the floor. His hands were flat against the floor, next to his head. He had long black hair in a sort of ponytail. He wore a robe adorned with a green dragon on black fabric. I wondered if that’s what he had been wearing when they mutated him or if the scientists had given it to him.

“Ghost, why do you haunt me?” he asked in a low voice.

I didn’t know if he was talking to me or if that was part of his meditation. He stood up, took a breath, and turned to face me.

“Ghost, why do you haunt me?” he asked in a direct voice.

Yeah, he was talking to me alright. But something about the way he said it made me want to punch him in the face right then and there. And I did, or at least tried. As expected, my fist went right through his face. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

“Ghost, why do you haunt me?” he asked again. He just stared at me, and it got on my nerves. It was like his eyes pierced my soul. I felt exposed. I really wanted to kill him. Those eyes and that speech drove me to the brink of insanity. I was about to break.

Infected: #9

2008-06-18T17:26:00.001-07:00

Cloud continued to hide in the darkness of the corner. Ink got up from her chair and showed me what she had written:

“A deadly blade of wind. A shield of diamond. A cruel gun. Wills amongst the broken. Divided useless, united unstoppable. Waiting for a leader.”

“And what about Cloud?” I asked. I felt bad if I just left her there.

Ink turned to the page where and showed me what she had written Cloud:

“Go hide in the darkness of the corner, and await the day our ghost comes back for us.”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” I asked.

Ink wrote again in her journal, and I read it to myself:

“The journey is ours. The choice is yours. Bodies are now. Memories were then. Hope is the future. Hearts are forever. A army is nothing without a general. Oppression spawns a savior, the ghost of a life we lost.”

Ink closed her journal. She then wrote, or tried to write, something on me. She then sat in her chair and stared at the wall. Cloud was still hidden. I looked in her direction.

“I’ll be back, I promise you,” I said as I left.

Infected: #8

2008-06-18T17:25:00.001-07:00

The door burst open. A group of soldiers rushed into the room, forming a perimeter against the walls. We were surrounding by assault rifles. They couldn’t touch me, but they could very well kill Ink and Cloud. My mind was racing for a plan. I barely met these people, but they were in the same situation I was in, and we had to stick together. I needed something to live for, someone to escape with.

Ink wrote something in her journal, daring the soldiers to shoot. Cloud collapsed right then and there into a fetal position on the smooth, white floor. The soldiers looked to each other for confirmation.

So far, I had nothing. Nothing to save Ink and Cloud. Nothing to stop these bastards from shooting. I was so helpless, so useless. I couldn’t believe it would be this soon that I would loose the only people who were even close to becoming friends. My mind was in a whirl, I was going insane just thinking about what would happen.

But it wasn’t the end. Darkness engulfed the soldiers. I looked at Cloud to see her shining eyes concentrating on the soldiers. Maybe it was the fetal position that gave her power.

The soldiers were completely blinded by Cloud’s darkness. They were moving this way and that, frantically hoping to step out of the darkness, but the darkness was focused on them and not the positions in the room. It blinded them wherever they moved. One began shooting only to kill his fellow soldier and break one of the three lights that lit the room. It was the back light, the one that had provided light to the back corners of the room, the corners of the wall that Ink had been facing when I first met her.

“Hold your fire! Do not shoot!” ordered their commander, who was struggling in the darkness.

Ink moved with surprising speed and showed Cloud what she had written. Cloud nodded in agreement and rose from the floor. She made her way to the corner, avoiding the soldiers, and engulfed herself in darkness, blending perfectly with the new darkness of the left corner of the back wall. Ink then sat back down in her chair, and stared at the wall. I remained floating, almost in awe of Ink and her composure. I felt like I owed her one, but for what I wasn’t entirely sure.

The darkness gradually lifted from the soldiers, and after they regained their sense and composure, they began frantically shouting and searching for Cloud.

“She’s going to get it when I find her,” one soldier muttered.

Another soldier put his gun barrel against the side of Ink’s head.

“Where’s the experiment!” he yelled, almost psychotic. His trigger finger kept twitching. Three times it almost pulled the trigger.

His commander pushed him aside, and the trigger was pulled. A bullet drilled a hole in the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing soldier!?” he yelled, “Everyone, move out! She must have escaped into the corridor!”

They followed their leader into the screams of agony, the Containment Corridor.

Infected: #7

2008-06-17T11:57:00.000-07:00

The room had not changed. The woman had even sat back down in her chair, in the exact same posture I had found her in the first time. I hadn’t exactly planned what I was going to say. An awkward silence ensued after the door slammed itself shut. The woman who had been following me found the corner of the room, and collapsed into the fetal position once again, her back to me and her face towards the wall.

“Um...I’m...uh...sorry for earlier...” I stammered.

The woman made no motion. She sat still as ever, and I floated there like a fool for an eternity.

Then she got up, opened her journal on the wall, and began to write. She motioned for me to come read what she had written. I read it to myself again:

“Apology accepted. Are you ready to accept your fate in the prophecy?”

She must have been talking about what she had showed me earlier. I still wasn’t sure if I could be a hero. Then she wrote something else for me to read:

“The three are gathered. A prophecy half-fulfilled. The worst is yet to come.”

“Us three?” I asked.

She wrote something on her arm. Then walked over to the corner and wrote something on the woman’s arm. She was going to write on my arm, but decided to write it in her journal instead.

It read: “Ghost.”

Hers read: “Ink.”

The woman in the corner’s read: “Cloud.”

The three names in her writing. I never thought those words would literally be our names. But it made me realize something. The broken Ark, would that be a defeated Ark Project? Who would defeat it? Not me. For sure. Right?

She wrote some more, and motioned for Cloud to read it as well:

“A army for slaughter. Demons drink the blood of the tortured. Allies amongst the pain. A mysterious wind, an echoing voice...a martyr for salvation.”

Cloud wasn’t fazed by the woman’s lack of a face. For a moment I thought all she saw was me. Maybe it was just unfounded pride.

But I felt so helpless, and vulnerable. I wonder if Cloud felt the same, besides her other problems. All we could do was read these words, and await the future Ink had spelled out for us in black pen and white paper.

Infected: #6

2008-06-17T00:28:00.001-07:00

I floated there, by her side. She sat there, huddled in the corner, staring at me with luminous eyes shining through darker than black hair. It stayed like that for an eternity. I started to wonder if the scientist had thought me as all but dead by now. I wondered what would happen if he should come back, would she still remain like this, in an uneasy calm. I would be alive, but I wondered if she would suffer at the words of the scientist, if his lying words would compel her to kill me with her darkness.

Then I thought of the most random thing: apologize to the woman with no face. I started towards the door, and was halfway through when she spoke.

“Are you leaving me?” she said, breaking down.

I had almost forgot about her. There was no way I could just leave her with these mad scientists. I was positive they wouldn’t mind, they had other experiments to carry out, the sick bastards. She would be useless in their eyes, she hadn’t killed me.

“No. I want you to come with me,” I said, looking back.

She used the wall as support and picked herself up from the floor. The door opened when she turned the knob, to my surprise. The doctor must have thought there was no reason to worry. He had left the door unlocked. That cocky bastard would pay, one of these days. But for now, I had to manage her. I couldn’t risk her losing it and drowning me in her darkness. I had to be very careful, she was a fragile heart.

She walked with her hands grabbing her elbows so that her arms crossed her stomach. She also hunched over as she walked, looking at the ground but glancing at me from time to time to make sure I didn’t leave her sight. Her hair still covered her face. She had some head of hair. I wondered if that was part of the mutation or if that was just how her hair was in her past life.

I had to remind myself to go through the doors, rather than going through walls like I usually do. The scientists we passed didn’t care. They didn’t even look up as we made our way from room to room.

She followed my every move. She stayed close, very close. If I were normal she would be breathing down my back as we walked.

The screams from the “Containment Corridor” didn’t faze her. She still walked, hunched over and looking at the floor. She glanced at the sign on the door, but only for an instant. I floated inside and she opened the door to follow me.

Infected: #5

2008-06-15T13:44:00.000-07:00

In the darkness, I heard her voice. She was laughing, or crying, or a mixture of the two, I couldn’t tell. She was mumbling to herself.

“When will someone love me? Will someone love me? Why doesn’t anyone love me?”

It was so dark I couldn’t see myself anymore. And I was supposed to be the light! Her darkness overcame my light, and death was in front of me.

“They will kill me. He will kill me. No one loves me. No one will ever love me. Why doesn’t anyone love me? Why? Why?” she was breaking down in the darkness, “Why?”

She had to be generating the darkness. There was no other explanation. I was made of light after all, it was entirely possible that she could generate complete and total darkness.

I felt myself fading. I was so helpless. I didn’t want to die, not yet, not now.

I had to get her in her right mind to have any chance of her lifting the darkness from the room. My life depended on this.

“I l-l-love y-y-you...” I managed to say.

She gasped in surprise. I was little surprised myself that I had said it too, but I wanted to live.
I could feel the darkness lifting, and my life returning.

“You...” she began, “love...me....?”

The darkness had all but dissipated. She was silent now. I floated up to my usual height, and over to her side.

“Do you really love me? Could you really love me?” she asked as she looked at me.

It was then that I saw her eyes had no pupils. They were pure white, shining through the mess of hair covering her face. I managed not to fly away, like I had done to that other woman. I decided to apologize someway to her later.

She was still staring at me, waiting for an answer. There was something about her that struck me, compelled me to answer her. She was emotionally scarred and unstable, but something in me answered her question:

“Of course I can, and I do.”

I couldn’t tell if she smiled, or even opened her mouth the slightest bit. Her hair had a way of covering her entire face, save for her eyes that shone through. She continued to stare at me.

I needed answers to the questions floating around in my head. Who was that man? Why are they trying to kill me? How long has it been? Who are you? Do you remember anything? Why were you brought her? Did they intentionally create you to kill me?

Infected: #4

2008-06-13T01:24:00.000-07:00

There was no way to tell time. There were no clocks. There were no windows. The scientists never stopped working. The guards rarely left their posts. The screams never stopped. I kept thinking about that woman and her inked words. About me being a hero. It could never happen.

Who knows how long it had been when he approached me. Dressed in a typical white lab coat with a clean shaven face, he approached me.

“You are wanted in room ZFGH957,” he said as he pointed off towards the room.

That was the whole conversation. He just walked away after, like nothing had happened. Off to ruin more lives. I floated in the direction he had pointed in. Might as well, it’s not like they could hurt me or anything. I found the sign on the door and floated in. The scientist turned around and looked up from his clipboard.

“Ah, right on time experiment GJYU1590. I have someone I’d like you to meet.” he pointed to a corner by the door, and I turned to my left to see a woman in the fetal position. She wore skin tight black clothing, reminiscent of Goths back when I was normal, back when I had a name. She was extremely pale and skinny. She could not have been healthy, and from the looks of it, not in her right mind. Her hair was the darkest shade of black I had ever seen, darker than her black clothes, darker than these scientists’ hearts.

Her back was to me, and the scientist marked something on his clipboard. He then walked towards her and whispered in her ear. I floated right next to him to hear what he was whispering.
“Do it. Now.”

The woman twitched after he whispered this, and then sat up. She still sat in the corner, with her hands holding her knees to her chest like there was no tomorrow. Her face was buried in herself and lost among the darkness of her hair. The scientist smirked to himself and walked to the door.

“I have discovered a way to kill you, experiment GJYU1590. Your body depends on light for sustenance. Without it, you will merely cease to exist.” he said to me as he walked out of the room, “There are no funerals for ghosts.”

The room suddenly grew darker. I found myself straining to maintain my floating. I felt myself descending to the lying on the floor with the room now pitch-black. I could feel myself dying. So many things I didn’t know, so many things I didn’t do, a lover I never met. My regrets drowned in my fear as death looked inevitable.

Infected: #3

2008-06-11T21:18:00.000-07:00

They all stopped caring about me after the announcement via the speakers throughout the facility, “Experiment GJYU1590 is harmless. Pay him no mind.” Occasionally they’d look at me, acknowledging my presence, but would return to work immediately. They don’t like to waste time. So many experiments going on at once, so many more to come, so little time. I was free to wander where I pleased. They could do nothing to me, I could do nothing to them.

I could have escaped, easily. All I had to do was float through a wall and off to a city. But for what? No one would accept me. They would all be terrified of me. I had no place to call home anymore, no one to love. There was no point in escaping. This place was better than dying alone, even if it was Hell on Earth.

I wandered aimlessly. There was no map to guide me, but I felt I had to go somewhere. I floated down the “Containment Corridor”, which held the experiments in captivity. Some screams were recognizable as human, others came from the pits of Hell itself. I was surprised that the walls still held strong, reinforced metal of some sort. It was dimly lit by flickering lights, and I found myself to have no shadow and to shine the same in the dark as in the light. At the end of the corridor was a single door, leading to a single room. The sign on the door read:
“EXPERIMENT VDBP0958
KEEP ALIVE
POSSIBILITY: HIGH”

I floated in against my will. The walls were a pure white. There was a woman seated in a wooden chair facing the wall with her back to the door. She was seated next to a bed. From the back, she looked completely normal. I almost forgot that she was an experiment for a second as I turned back around, wondering why I had even come here in the first place.

I heard her get up from the chair. I turned around to see what she was doing. She walked towards the wall. I saw that she had a pen and journal in her hands. She planted the journal on the wall and opened the filled pages. She motioned for me to come look with her hand. I floated over to the wall. She pointed to a group of words. I read them to myself:

“From the blinding light will spawn a ghost. A shining hero to tortured souls. Guided by ink and accompanied by cloud, he will lead to escape from Hell with a broken ark.”

I turned to see her face, only to find none. I flew back and through the wall. Everything else was normal. She had a body, hair, but no face. I couldn’t get over it, even in a place like this. But those words bothered me. Did she really think I was a hero? Could I be a hero?

Infected: #2

2008-06-03T00:21:00.001-07:00

“Number GJYU1590,” I heard someone say. My head was spinning before I opened my eyes. I was still floating, just face down. I didn’t move. I didn’t know how to control my floating and all. I still thought it was a dream. But he put reality in my face. Damn scientist.

“You have taken unusual characteristics. None of the other experiments have ever gained the ghost-like qualities such as flying, or passing through walls. Your body itself is also unique, composed entirely of light. Yes, a successful experiment. We will continue testing. Soldiers!”

Two of them came from either side of me, and grabbed me by the arms, or at least they tried. Their hands went through my arms. They tried several times, and the end was the same. It was like all they could do was try in vain to complete the order. I couldn’t believe it myself. They couldn’t touch me.

“Enough! Soldiers!” the scientist exclaimed. The two soldiers returned to their post at the door. “You are an interesting experiment. Indeed a ghost, almost completely to the name. Well then, I suppose I have no choice but to leave you be. I doubt a ghost can do us much harm. Unable to be touched, unable to touch. Yes, you prove to be harmless to us.”

He left the room then. They all left the room then. I didn’t even get to see his face. I spent about an hour or so trying to get the hang of this flying thing. The scientists were back by then. They watched me for a little bit, and then continued their work. He must have told them that I was no threat. I kept practicing flying until they all left. I was still a body of light. I was still in a place I didn’t know. I still had a bad feeling in my gut. This was no dream.

Infected: #1

2008-05-31T23:24:00.000-07:00

We were all infected. Experimented on. Guinea pigs for their sick and twisted game. We all woke up in the same room, with the same bright fluorescent lights, too bright for anyone’s eyes. We all woke up, never to be the same person we were in life before the base.

It was an old military base, useless, until they rearranged it into a laboratory, with a handful of soldiers for protection. War was over, but the government wasn’t done with war. They funded the Ark Project, a government program designed to create the perfect soldier. By splicing human genes, they worked to create and perfect the method for a killing machine.

They must have known that it would never work, but they did it anyways. Again and again and again. How many lives were changed in a week? I’ve lost count. We all woke up dazed and confused, looked down at ourselves, and started screaming. We were no longer human. We were abominations, to the world, and to ourselves.

Some lashed out immediately, others retreated within themselves. Sleeping gas, tear gas, gunfire, they find a way to keep us under control. What’s worse is that the experiment is only half done at that point. Once you’re unconscious, under control, they do about ten million tests on you. Sometimes the mutation is obvious. Other times you wouldn’t notice the mutation unless you knew where you were.

I woke up blinded by the damn lights. I felt something wasn’t right. I couldn’t feel anything actually. I didn’t know if I was face up on the floor, on a table, or floating in the air or something of the sorts. I instinctively looked down at myself, and was blinded even more. The light was too bright. “What the fuck!?” I exclaimed. After my eyes got used to the lighting, I saw that my body was pure light. I could only imagine that my face was the same. And I was floating in the air, somehow. I kept saying to myself, “I’ve got to be losing it. This has got to be a dream. Shit like this doesn’t happen. Shit like this isn’t real.” I turned every which way possible, and floated everywhere possible in the room as a result. I tried to avoid hitting a wall, but I did. Rather, I went through it.

There were about twenty scientists in the room I floated into, and they were all running for their lives at the sight of me. Another experiment gone awry. I heard the door be broken down, by soldiers no doubt. I heard gas escaping from somewhere, and the rest is black.

How Far?

2008-05-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

I stalked her home. All the way from school. Every single step of the twenty blocks she walked. She never saw me. She never noticed me stepping in step with her, breathing in breath with her. She was mine, and mine alone. No one else would have her. I will never let that happen. She will be mine, she will die mine. She always opened her window rather than turn on the AC or a fan. Something about saving money. I climbed in through there. I thought she had heard me, I fell in pretty loud. But I heard the water running. She was in the shower, singing. It was hard to make out from downstairs. Creeping up the stairs step by step, it seemed her voice got quieter and quieter. Maybe she knew I was here. Maybe not. I got to the door, and put my ear against it. I listened. The water was running, but no singing. Then the water stopped, and I could hear her slide the shower curtain open. My heart never beat faster. I opened the door...

The Problems With Inspiration: What To Do?

2008-05-28T22:18:00.000-07:00

No one realizes inspiration, the struggle to get it, the indecisiveness when you get it, what to do with it. Do you know how hard it is? You're falling asleep, but inspiration comes to you, and you're wide awake, pounding away on the keyboard, rushing to get it on the screen before it fades. Or how about when you're trying to get your work done, and guess what comes? You put everything on hold, and scribble away on a piece of paper, just to get it recorded, just to get it out. Before you know it you're behind on schedule.

Why would you do these things you ask? Because when you don't, the inspiration just drifts away, and you're left with nothing but half a memory of the art that could have been born. You end up regretting you never did write it down while it was fresh in your mind, inspired. You might try to force it out, but it never turns out right, not the way it would have been had you written it down while it was there. Or maybe you just don't care for inspiration. You write whenever you feel like it. But don't you need inspiration to feel like writing? Maybe you just write when you have time, the time when inspiration refuses to come. You end up sitting in your chair, staring at a blank screen and a blinking cursor that just pisses you off in the end.

It's hard to write stories with nothing to write about. Same goes for painting and drawing and poetry. Even music. Art is the same all around. It spawns from inspiration, creativity, and a little bit of talent or ability. Perhaps inspiration chooses who it wants to inspire, maybe at random, maybe at the most inconvinient times for the person...

No Reason for Killing

2008-05-12T20:20:00.000-07:00

The first victim was pure coincidence. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her name was Elena Moore, or at least that's what her ID said. She was going on a walk, she only had twenty bucks with her. She wasn't dressed for anything either. Just jeans, T-shirt, and a jacket. Some boots for the snow covered sidewalk. He didn't mean to kill her. She just died.

He was dumped. After five years of kisses, a text message ends it all. It happened on that same street too. Elena seemed naive enough. He took her to a coffee shop. They made out in the alley. His pocketknife came out of his jean pocket. He left her cut up when he was done with her. The snow buried her body. Some guy tripped over it taking out the trash.

The second victim was intentional. The bitch clerk wouldn't take his credit card. He had to pull out some cash. So inconvienent. Her name tage read Racheal Peterson. He decided to take her somewhere. It took longer than the first. He wanted to kill her with the motor running, to drown out the screaming. For a week they had a fling, then he flung her over the cliff and into the gorge. They did it to metal. Screaming mixed with screaming, plus the motor. They never found her body.

The third victim was an opportunity he took. She had just gotten dumped in public. In a library actually. Such an odd place. Crying over a guy who just didn't care anymore. Called her a hassle. She told him her name was Cindy Crawford. He had this one last a month. He felt sorry for her. But he was getting back at the world. He found out he had AIDS. Dumb bitch left him a damning surprise. It was that same day he killed Cindy in her house. Just beat the shit out of her. Bloody mess. He wiped himself off on her sheets and left. Arrested at the front door. Turns out some neighbor had heard her scream. There was still traces of blood on his knuckles. He couldn't clean all of it.

He told the police he just wanted to kill somebody. He almost strangled the detective. He had nothing else to confess. They were sure he killed the women for some other reason. He just wanted to kill somebody. The trial came, and his attorney got him life imprisonment rather than execution by lethal injection. But he took suicide. Found a sharp piece of metal. Stabbed himself. He made sure to make a bloody mess.

Last Night

2008-04-17T14:11:00.000-07:00

Last night was the coldest in my life. Nothing else compares. The wind blew the hardest. It didn't bother to whisper in my ear. Last night was the darkest in my life. The stars didn't bother to shine. The moon had died. The streetlights refused to light the sidewalk. Silence haunted my every step. No one dared to walk beside me. No one was there to walk beside me. The clouds drifted closer and closer. An omen of blood promised in their rain. I could have sworn the blood in my veins was frozen. I couldn't feel my arm. Something like numb, but not quite. No feeling, but it's there. No passion, but I'm here. Last night was the slowest night in my life. The day took it's time coming. The sun lingered in the other half of the world. Even the sky has rejected me. Thunder roaring in the distance. Last night was the saddest in my life. Last night she died. And I wandered alone, blood dripping in place of sweat. Sirens ringing in my ear. Barely alive, my life changed forever.

Twisted Arsonist

2008-04-13T19:05:00.000-07:00

I'm glad she's dead. She was no mother. I don't even know my father. All I know are the scars he left me, the blood he stole from me with a his pocketknife. Yeah, I'll admit it. I'll even say it with pride. I killed her. Are you surprised? There was nothing to it. She always came home drunk, passed out on the couch. She'd have a migraine when she woke up, and then go out and party some more. School was no concern to me. Hell, it didn't matter anymore. I can't afford books, and we barely make rent. Actually, I barely make rent. She doesn't bother to hide her booze money, but she'll notice if I took all of it. But you should've been there. It felt so good lighting that fire. It was so simple, so easy. She probably didn't notice a thing. She probably never woke up. I wish I could've been there, to see her burn to ash. I wish she had screamed. Maybe I should've done more. Yeah, I probably should've have done more. Maybe torture her a bit. Cut her up, shot her in the legs or something. But left her alive to burn. Now if only he had been there, I would've have killed two birds with one stone, one fire. I swear if I ever find him, payback.

I would stop struggling if I were you. If the ropes are too tight I'm sorry, but I can't let you live after hearing all of that. If you're wondering why, I thought you might want to know who to blame for your death. Do you have family? Guess you can't answer huh? I wanted to use something else as a gag but that sock was all I could find right now. You're crying. Yeah I wish I could cry, but I can't. I can smile though. There's something about a blaze that just makes me smile. I can't wait to see how big this fire gets. I wonder if I'll be on the news. But that would probably be a bad thing. Can't have the cops catching me when I'm still looking for him. Maybe after I'll go, but not now.

This is goodbye. Yeah, I'm taking your money. I can't carry anything valuable, too much of a hassle. I'll even start the fire away from you, so you can have time to say goodbye. Or do you want it closer? I didn't think so. I guess I'll see you later, oh wait, no I won't.