Author: TheSecondVisage PM
Life's throes are often violent and unpredictable. That goes ten score and twofold for a world so enraptured in chaos that it can't lift itself out. David, a high school senior preparing for graduation, comes to learn just how unpredictably chaotic the world can be...Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Sci-Fi - Chapters: 4 - Words: 9,828 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 12-11-12 - Published: 06-29-12 - id: 3037304
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Thus, the story that was purposeless at one point has been brought back...with a purpose. Please note that my writing isn't at its best at times in here, and that, while the wording fails at certain parts (I'm sure that there's some important vocabulary missing from here as well), I did try my best with recreating it.
Well, enjoy the story~.
Four years were finally weighing down on his shoulders. Four years of working, sweating, bleeding in the hallways, just to pass through worthless classes that would teach him little-to-nothing in return. This school, these social grounds, they were not a place that young adults should be put into. The monsters stalking the halls here were very real, and very terrifying when met face-to-face.
He digressed, dragging his fingers along the smooth, cool wall. He was walking through the interior of Building C4, steadily working his way around to the outside world. It was two-oh-one in the afternoon, and the hallways were empty in this building. Every other person was in class by now, getting ready to start on the last few assignments for the day before heading on home for the weekend.
Except for him, of course.
Today was a Friday, and like all other Fridays before it, he made a choice not to attend seventh period. It was the right decision; seventh period had the most wretched atmosphere, and he did not want to be a part of it when it would be at its peak. So instead of participating in its violent and dizzying festivities, he chose to ignore it and act like it never existed. It was the right decision to make each week, he assured himself.
The hallway lanced out to the right after a narrow turn. Sunlight teased the gray innards of the structure from the small windows on the blue double doors at the end of the hallway. Entering the outside world was always a gracious step for him when the weekends would come; it always teased open a spark of freedom and wonder within his soul. And then the weekend would begin, reminding him that there was only a two-day break between him and another five-day week of school.
A break was a break, even if it was a measly one.
Pushing his way out of Building C, he was assaulted by the bright glare of the golden sun. Two rows of trees on both sides of the courtyard presented some defense against the untouchable assailant. Fingers digging into the cold sides of his binder, the boy made his way across the shade-less courtyard. The trees around here would not provide him with the cover he needed. He would be left vulnerable out there, prey waiting for the predator to come and find him.
No, he needed a better spot to wait out seventh period, preferably near the front of the school.
'I should be there, soon.' His thoughts concluded, each step forcing him to accommodate precious energy for the heat that made his throat run dry, and made his body feel as though it was being dragged through a furnace.
Off in the shadows, walking through the shaded areas of the other buildings, were several teenagers that were of his age or older. He couldn't catch the details of their clothing nor their faces, but from the way they walked, the way they moved and skulked and constantly pulled their baggy pants up, he saw that they were part of the infamous crowd of delinquents that made up a good chunk of the school's population.
Despite their obvious superficial handicaps, they moved quickly and didn't waste time. Within the second's glance that he gave them from across the courtyard, they were already inside of their designated building. Either they were going to the last class of the day or they decided to cause some havoc for a handful of teachers.
'Whatever they're doing, I sure as hell don't want any part in it.' That was the right path, he thought. Staying out of trouble, turning the other cheek when bullies came to bother him and skipping out on the worst class in history.
Yep, this was the life.
Careful strides carried him across the other half of the courtyard. Any sliver of shade that hid him from the view of the sun he took, whether he ducked under a jutting tree on the side or wandered dangerously close to the shaded outskirts of the buildings. His efforts were all for naught, as the sun finally caught up with him when he passed by Buildings A1 and B1. It was unforgiving, cruel and merciless in its unending journey to torture his body.
Wiping away the sweat gathering on his brow with the back of his tan hand, the teenager sighed at the sight of the bus circle. It was directly across from the cafeteria patio. He was so close now, he could practically taste liberation from the dull, occasionally frightening school life. Ignoring the throbbing in his legs, ignoring all the sweat that was pouring down from his arms and staining his shirt, he broke into a sprint, charging for the lanky tree that sat alone in the middle of the circle.
On the way, he lost his grip on the binder and accidentally dropped it. It hit the pavement with a silent thud and plopped onto its right side, leaving the side with his name face-up.
'Shit! My binder!' Thank God the other students weren't around, they'd snatch it up without a second's thought! Slamming his right foot into the ground, he used the momentum from his sprint to whirl right back around. He raced back to his binder and quickly recovered it, then, holding it tightly to his chest, he ran back towards the tree.
The solace of shadows welcomed him as he slipped into the small space that rested at the center of the bus circle. The lanky tree shielded him from the tyrannical boasting of the sun, holding more leaves than its thin form should have been able to handle. Each branch looked about as brittle as a thin layer of ice in the winter, yet somehow they managed to stay strong in the summer heat and the spring winds.
Taking heavy breaths in and then releasing them, the boy shook himself of the dizzy spell that was settling within. Days such as these mostly brought out the worst kind of physical condition in him. His body could handle the heat just fine, but when the heat could overpower it in a matter of minutes, it usually tried to opt out for a more comfortable option, at the expense of his own consciousness.
'School is almost over now, luckily. Only twenty more minutes…'
Curly hair was matted down with sweat, sticking to his forehead and nearly covering his eyes. He'd need to remember to bring a comb to school next week, just to keep it from bouncing around if he was required to run.
Focusing more on the assignment given to him from his sixth period teacher, he looked down at his binder and ran his fingers along the rubber plating, reciting his name in his head.
The voice that called out to him was not his. David almost leapt out of his own flesh, heart banging against his ribcage. The binder rested in the grass now, next to someone's discarded cigarette carton. He could of sworn that he was spoken to by, by…something!
'What the hell was that…?'
Nothing happened after hearing the voice. The wind echoed through the empty lot, blowing the lanky tree's branches to and fro. Regaining composure, he sat down again and picked up the binder. No sensations greeted him, no strange voices spoke to him; there was just the wind and the sound of doors opening over on the cafeteria patio.
Settling back into his earthly nest, David sighed again and unzipped the binder. Its contents popped out, almost close to overflowing. He should have emptied most of it at home over the past week, with the first semester of the school year being done and all. There were certain things he could not leave behind, like most of his random, incomplete drawings and a few leftover reports with the notes from various teachers scrawled across them.
The nostalgia that each crumpled paper revitalized in his mind was refreshing. There was the orc he started when he was bored in first period. Its oversized arms made him chuckle; it was the first thing he'd take to redrawing when he had the time to. Then the gargoyle was right behind it, with its downcast eyes and sagging stone body. Its wings were weighed down by steel swords; a feeble attempt to kill it by the guards that wanted to see it dead.
He could go on and on and on with these if he wanted to. But the school day was nearing its end, he could see that; the buses were beginning to roll into the circle. Those poor drivers were probably close to having a stroke from the horrible weight of the heat.
The boy closed the binder and held it against the ground with one hand, using the other to stuff the excess papers back in while he was zipping it shut. Oh, yes, he was definitely going to lighten the load a lot when he got back home.
The tree supported him as he got back to his feet. He considered leaving the sanctity of the shadows, since there was no one around to catch him skipping class anyway.
Then two attendants emerged from the side of Building A2, which sat at the right side of the cafeteria. They were both females who had identical features: meticulously combed caramel hair, twirled in a tornado pattern down their back; white-grey eyes with an attentive emotion attached to them; ghostly pale skin with scars along the arms; and finally, short-sleeved shirts and pants that bore the logo of the school. Their pocket protectors each came with walkie-talkies to contact other attendants who were stationed around the schoolyard.
David froze in his spot, every muscle in his body refusing to move. Had he been caught already? It was sure looking that way when one of the identical attendants set her sights on his location. He swore that his eyes had locked with hers, that she saw him there; but that moment of paralyzing fear, that deceptive stare was wrenched away when the two attendants entered the cafeteria patio.
There were very little words that were left in his brain to describe the feeling of elation when he saw them walk into the patio. If he was caught skipping class again…
'It's best if I don't think about that right now.' He thought, tiptoeing to the edge of the shadows to observe what those two attendants were doing on the patio.
What he saw wasn't too surprising. The delinquents he had seen skulking around along the edge of the courtyard buildings were there, along with a few of the popular kids. If his hearing wasn't tricking him, it sounded like they were arguing about some meaningless thing. If he wasn't just stuck with listening to the echoes of their voices, he'd know what that meaningless something was.
Seeing their outlines was enough for now. Their body language suggested tension from where he was standing.
Lights illuminated some of the bodies on the patio. David barely made out a clenched jaw, a bulging eye and balled-up fists before the light went away, drenching the patio in a murky darkness. He leaned against the edge of the shadows, anticipating the return of the six or so outlines that crowded the darkness across from him.
Now the outlines were moving against the darkness. The bulk of the unknown number – on the right – was moving against the slender forms – on the left – and filling the hot summer air with screaming and howling. Flashes blanketed the darkness with their bright embrace, revealing a scene that was reminiscent of a slideshow.
The delinquents were beating the living hell out of the two attendants. Each flash illuminated more blood on the delinquents' bodies. The only limbs he saw of the two attendants were their arms and hands, trying to beg for mercy.
A school bus passed in front of the scene, temporarily blinding David from the horrific action. The tail end of the bus passed by right in time for him to see another flash in the darkness; he saw a crimson grin staring out at the popular crowd on the right side. A hand gripped smooth, caramel hair that was, just three minutes ago, twirling down the back of an attendant. And beneath that hair was the deformed face of one of the attendants. Her jaw was swollen and dislocated. One eye was drooping down while the other was black and swollen. Her nose was broken and that might have been where all the blood on her face was pouring down from, but the boy couldn't tell because he was too far away.
Within that instant of a flash, the darkness overcame the light and the scene was back to outlines. David could almost hear, could almost feel, the opium in the voices of the ones who held the light. They must have been using their cell phones to take pictures of the beating.
Several men donning bulletproof vests came charging out of the building next to the cafeteria. Their square-jawed faces and dutiful eyes were stolen away by the expressionless masks that covered their heads. The masks were grey with black numbers imbedded above the eyes; rubber pipes flowed out from the back of the masks and were connected to their owners through the spine; lastly, each mask came equipped with external shields that, when activated, would scroll down from the sides of the helmet and eventually cover their entire bodies.
Another school bus came by and blocked David's view of the scene. He stood there, listening to the screaming that fluttered out from the patio.
How can humans be so cruel to each other?
There was that voice again. It sounded much darker now, with a tone as cold as ice.
They fight endlessly with one another, bickering over superficial byproducts that never have and never will matter.
The shadows swarmed around him, clamping down on his shoulders and forcing him to his knees. The darkness was determined to swallow him.
Human beings are so very weak…
Distortion started first. His vision slowly began to melt away, starting with the determined orange pigments of the school buses and working its way down to the fragments of concrete outside of the darkness.
'Nghh…this feeling…' He was certain that this…this thing would crush him. David barely saw anything now, pockets of obsidian clouding everything in sight. All sound was deafened in this strange netherland, and his body refused to follow his brain's orders.
'What…is this place?'
Do you really want to know?
A/N: So here we are. The boy - David - has witnessed a violent scene between a group of sadistic delinquents and duty-bound school attendants. At the cusp of this, an unknown force has begun to creep up on him. What's going on here? We'll find out in the next chapter. Maybe.