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| Welcome to Sectarians of Eliraihah.. We are a group of those striving to create a utopia for roleplayers and writers alike, and provide a shelter from the normal confines of society. On our behalf, enjoy yourself. Your friendly overlord, --Crimson Knight |
| Peacebone | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 16 2009, 08:29 AM (222 Views) | |
| Post #1 Dec 16 2009, 08:29 AM | AkiraAsphyxia |
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blahhhh this was extra credit for my Comp 2 class. Peacebone I heard gunshots and tortured yet surprised screams. I saw men dressed in black suits with pistols, people struggling to take a final breath and wondering what they did wrong, and blood splattered on the walls of the bus I was sitting in. Somehow, by the will of some force unknown to me, I survived. No one had aimed their gun at me, and I was left free to run through the field of wasted bodies and blood. Outside of the bus, I found only a building with people lined up through the open door and around the side. There was no talking, only a painfully tangible anxiety blanketed over the crowd. I recognized some of these people – they were former friends and colleagues of mine and for whatever reason, they too had been spared. The line moved at a steady rate, with people proceeding to walk inside of the building with movements that were almost mechanical. During the next few minutes, I followed the same procedure that everyone in front of me had followed – I took a step forward, waited, took another step forward, waited, and eventually I found myself through the doorway. On the other side of the doorway, there was a long corridor with multiple doors lining the walls. There were no other people. However, I felt compelled to walk further down the corridor and enter a room with a closed door described by a sign on the wall to be room number twenty-seven. I could hear a droning, high-pitched sound increasing in volume as I opened the door. Inside the room were several rows of plastic chairs. There was a person in every chair except one three rows back next to the wall. I supposed that I was to take that seat. At the front of the room was a blackboard with five groups of text written on it. Each of these groups of text included a name, a region of the United States, a phone number with area code, and an email address. A tall man dressed like one of the gunmen from outside stood straight with his mouth open wide. The high-pitched sound seemed to come from him. Everyone else in the room was fixated on the man in the black suit. I was too busy studying the blackboard to pay any attention to him. The blackboard declared that each of the names written upon it belonged to people who were regional coordinators of the Black Swan. I made note of these names – Avary Smith (West Coast), Rachel Clements (Mountain Zone), Madelin Faulk (Central), David Pfannenstein (North Central/East), Adam Young (Southeast). The man in the black suit closed his mouth when he noticed that my eyes weren’t on him. Everyone else in the room stopped looking at him, and instead, they started looking at each other with thoroughly confused looks on their faces. Suddenly, the man gave me an intent stare and started to speak in a monotone. “I’ve been jumping all over but my views are slowly shrinking. I was a Jugular vein in a juggler’s girl. I was supposedly leaking the most interesting colors while half of my fingers were dipped in the sand. You progress in letters, but you’re used to cooking broccoli. The other side of take out is mildew on rice, and an obsession with the past is like a dead fly. Only a few things are related to the ‘old times.’ We did believe in magic and we did die.” I thought what he was saying was complete nonsense, but everyone else in the room stood and cheered when he finished forming the word “die.” The man, who was still watching me intently, stepped from the front of the room to stand next to me. He faced me, stared into my eyes, and somehow, every question that I had had prior to that moment was answered. Thoughts resounded in my mind and told me that if I didn’t go along with what everyone else was doing, I would be left to die, just like the people outside were. The man opened his mouth again, and like before, started speaking in a monotone words that made no sense. “When I feel like I’m stealing, I can’t keep myself from hearing God. Only the taste of your cooking can make me bow on the ground. It was the clouds that carved the mountains; it was the mountains that made the kids scream. Oh well, she bore all her parts, but she never was found. You think, ‘I’ll carve a path through New York and be an artist,’ but are you anything? Then you find out you can’t ask a baby to cry. And an obsession with the past is like a dead fly. And just a few things are related to the ‘old times’ when we did believe in magic and we did die. It’s not my words that you should follow; it’s your insides. You’re just an inside. Adjust your insides. You’re just an inside.” This time no one cheered. They all stared at the man with puzzled expressions, looking like innocent two-year-olds who were being yelled at after drawing on the wall with a crayon without realizing that they had done something wrong. The man stared back at them, sighing and finally seeming somewhat human. He smirked and said, “Now, Children. I do hope you all realize why you all are here today.” He paused, waiting for a response. “No, sir. We do not,” the room chanted back. Before I understood what was happening, I knew I was automatically doing as everyone else did. The man paced back to the front of the room. He drew a breath, and in a less than threatening tone, he spoke. “Ah. Well, before I say anything else, you do realize the consequences of not doing as you are directed, am I correct?” The room resumed its chorus, “Yes, sir.” “Ah, good.” The man shifted his eyes around the room, briefly locking gazes with each of the people who sat, defenseless, before him. “All of you, along with your brothers and sisters in the other rooms along this hall have been selected from the population attending Saint Silvia of the Sea College to serve the great cause of reformation. This nation has fallen into the hands of the Devil. But, it is not too late! We can all work together to save it! And since you are all already in this room, you can’t choose not to contribute lest you prefer to be isolated from the rest of the surviving population until you perish.” Everyone who was seated nodded solemnly. I followed suit because I didn’t feel like this was the place to start a conflict. The man resumed his speech once the nodding had ceased. “Good, good. I seem to have made the right choice when I chose all of you to be my companions as we travel into the new nation that we shall create. Salvation shall be at our feet soon enough, brothers and sisters.” He paused. “For the moment, however, I command you to sleep. Rest now and gather your strength for the coming conflict.” The man slowly raised his hand above his head and then lowered it sharply. Everyone around me rested their arms on the desk in from of them, heads resting on top of their arms. They actually seemed like they were asleep. The man’s command didn’t affect me in the same way, but I still followed along as not to raise unnecessary suspicion. I closed my eyes and waited. After a couple of minutes had passed, I heard the door between the room and the hallway open and close. I briefly raised my head and saw that the man in the black suit had left the room. Here was my opportunity. I knew that what was going on and what was planned to happen was wrong. The man hadn’t thought to check the people in his room for cell phones. Although it was against the rules at Saint Silvia of the Sea College to have a cell phone in a student’s immediate possession, I had one anyways. The risk of being exiled still loomed before me. In comparison to what would happen to the rest of the country if this so-called Black Swan group was able to execute their plans, exile didn’t seem so bad. A forced alliance that wants to destroy what has taken over two hundred years to become what it what it is versus an independent nation at a peak of prosperity and equality made up of independent people who want nothing more than to better themselves? I chose exile. My cell phone was in my hand, and 911 was dialed. The responder answered the phone on the other end of the line. “911, what’s your emergency?” I told the responder about the Black Swan, their conspiracy to “reform” the nation, their methods of recruitment, and the violent acts they have already committed against innocents who were not chosen at the college. The responder hesitated for a moment, drew a shallow breath, and assured me that the police would come as soon as possible. I thanked them. Just as I was ending the call, everyone who was sleeping around me suddenly sat up. The door to the room flew open, and the man in the black suit reentered the room in a rush. He paced over to me again and held a pistol to my temple. His breathing was angry, and his hand, shaking. Through gritted teeth, he growled the last words I ever heard. “You stupid . . .” |
We're All Here Because We've Lost Control
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| Post #2 Dec 18 2009, 07:35 PM | Grunt_of_War |
| Haha, impressive. Gotta say I loved the dialogue and the atmosphere especially, though I thought the ending was kind of anti-climactic... >_> |
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| Post #3 Dec 27 2009, 08:00 PM | AkiraAsphyxia |
| haha, I know. I didn't really feel like writing any more at that point, and it only needed to be five pages, so I just tried to find the easiest and quickest way to end it. I might go back and extend it in the future if I ever get around to it. |
We're All Here Because We've Lost Control
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