I'm terribly sorry for any invested in the story. If I'm being honest, I don't know how I want to continue, that and another thing is keepin… moreg me from working on this. I feel the need to revise what I've been planning, as it doesn't quite make sense.
I have started a new writing project, off the forums. It's been taking up most of my writing time. What is, is this: I'm attempting to write a book. It seems to be going alright so far. I'll try to keep everyone more updated on the status of Silicon from now on. Hopefully I'll figure out how to continue and work from there for this story.
It is post-apocalyptic with a lot of pre-apocalyptic stuff. It is more supernatural than just plain flashbacks. It's a little difficult to explain to be honest, since it is very cross-genre.
It is post-apocalyptic with a lot of pre-apocalyptic stuff. It is more supernatural than just plain flashbacks. It's a little difficult to explain to be honest, since it is very cross-genre.
I'm terribly sorry for any invested in the story. If I'm being honest, I don't know how I want to continue, that and another thing is keepin… moreg me from working on this. I feel the need to revise what I've been planning, as it doesn't quite make sense.
I have started a new writing project, off the forums. It's been taking up most of my writing time. What is, is this: I'm attempting to write a book. It seems to be going alright so far. I'll try to keep everyone more updated on the status of Silicon from now on. Hopefully I'll figure out how to continue and work from there for this story.
Well I dont know the story but I like the title also be sure to tell use when its out im sure many people are willing to support you (me inclouded) because we already know how good your writing is XD
It's been more than a month since I wrote for this story. So it's more than about time I had something to show for that month of absence. I'll start working on continuing this. It's going to take a few twist and turns story wise, mainly due to my prolonged departure from this story, so it may be a little wibbly wobbly for a bit. I'm not sure how soon I can get a part out, but hey, an announcement of some kind his better than continue silence, right? Anyway. I'll get back for you all soon!
This isn't quite dead
It's been more than a month since I wrote for this story. So it's more than about time I had something to show for… more that month of absence. I'll start working on continuing this. It's going to take a few twist and turns story wise, mainly due to my prolonged departure from this story, so it may be a little wibbly wobbly for a bit. I'm not sure how soon I can get a part out, but hey, an announcement of some kind his better than continue silence, right? Anyway. I'll get back for you all soon!
Oh and I haven't closed the voting, have I?
(!) Clive will let Thomas handle it
Clive’s brow furrowed, like it normally did when he was pushed in any direction he did not wish to go. The level of anger show on his face always corresponded with his opinion of the person angering him. In this case, this P.E. teacher whose name was lost to Clive was pushing all the right buttons to drop his thought of the man to an absolute zero. As much as he wanted to make some obscene gesture towards him, Clive sighed reluctantly and rose from his stool. He patted Thomas on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he said genuinely. As he adjusted his overcoat to head back outside.
Thomas nodded regretfully, sorry to see him go before he could talk with him further. He turned a cold glare back to the drunken P.E. teacher and stared coldly at him until the bartender returned from the back room. A cocky smile lighten Thomas’ face, and he raised a finger to catch her attention. “Excuse me, miss,” he politely said, “I think this guy’s had a drink too many.”
The bartender eyed the drunken man up and down observantly, then nodded agreeingly. “Hey, buddy, you seem like you’ve had a enough. I’d call it a day if I were you.”
The man stared daggers at Thomas before waving his hand dismissively at the barkeep and returning to his drink. Thomas supposed it was better than nothing. The P.E. teacher guzzled down the remaining ounces and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Thomas’ eyes narrowed when he noticed the man sway back and forth steadily until he grabbed the edge of the counter like he the world was spinning.
Thomas rolled his eyes as he pulled a one and some spare change from his pocket to set on the counter by his emptied glass. He left his leather-topped stool and left the bar, ready to return him for some rest. As the door fell shut behind him, he immediately noticed the red pickup truck belonging to Carson sitting lonesomely in the parking lot. Thomas licked his lips and started towards it. Sure enough, Clive was sitting inside, glumly looking at something in his hand while resting his cheek on the other.
Clive Carson looked up at Thomas’ arrival by the driver’s side window after he gently knocked on it. He rolled it down about half way. “Hello again,” he said, forcing a smile. Thomas saw Clive click whatever it was he was looking at shut. It must have been a locket of sorts, though he knew not to pry.
“Listen, I’m going to head home, but let me give you my number. I’ve got plenty of year of counseling under me and would be happy to talk almost anytime.” He extend a small slip of paper with a phone number scribbled onto it through the window.
Clive took it and shoved it into his pocket. He shot up a smile and thanked him, saying, “I appreciate it.” He rolled up the window and pulled out of the small parking lot, and onto the small highway, leaving Thomas standing alone. Thomas felt a chill of frost run down his spine and he rolled down his dress shirt’s sleeve. It did little to relieve the sudden cold presence, so he jogged back to his white car and pulled open the door. Once he climbed into his car, he expected it to fade, and it did.
Thomas looked up at the small digital thermometer in the car and noted it was sitting at a warm seventy degrees. He shrugged it off once more and started the car. Thomas eventually arrived as his so-called home. He didn’t like to think about it, really. The house belonged to his parents and was the home he grew up in. Why he moved back to this godforsaken house was beyond him. It brought up so many bad memories, you’d think he would find it unhealthy. Perhaps it was, but he wanted to get back, closer to his roots. So this was the place.
Thomas pulled back the screen door then unlocked the thick front door. He set his small suitcase by the sofa and realized he left the book at the bar, causing him to let out a frustrated sigh. He knew it would be there when he got back. He was growing increasingly familiar with the bartender and knew they were an honest woman. It was the P.E. teacher Wade Pittman who he’d expect to take the book for no other reason than spite. But it was late and Thomas wasn’t in the mood to drive back down to the bar now.
Henry Parker
It seemed like this was the beginning of a really long night. Henry Parker stood by the side of the Jones’ diner with his hand resting on the corner of the building as he stared thoughtfully into the woods, waiting for Kyle to arrive. At this time Mitch had returned home and he didn’t want their secretary out where. Intent on looking into this campsite for hopefully some answer on Alexander’s death, Henry looked into the dark foliage that swayed softly with the breeze waiting for the sheriff’s officer arrival.
A car’s tires crackled on the pavement behind him and he turned to face a second sheriff’s car that had just pulled up at the diner. He jogged up to its window and was tossed a flashlight by the occupant as Kyle climbed out of the car. Kyle grabbed a second flashlight and walked up with Henry to the entrance of the shadowy woods.
Kyle stared skeptically into it. “Those kids mention how many people were at the campsite?” he asked.
Henry shook his head, and answered, “I didn’t think to ask. But there’s one tent.” Henry adjusted his overcoat when he felt an unsettling chill run down his back. He settled his hand on the butt of his gun. “C’mon, it should be this way,” he said, and Kyle followed behind him.
They waded through the grassy path, past one grimly illuminated tree after the next. They stood around and flashed their torches around once they came to a dead end. It was at the moment Henry felt the chill again. It run the course of his extended arm with the flashlight and his hair stood on end. Henry took a step back, ignoring the cold to get a better look at the whole area. As he stepped back, the chilling feeling followed him and then retreated in a discernible direction. Eying it confusedly, he peered in that small spot of wood to find a flash of light make its way through the thick of trees.
Kyle rested his hand on Henry’s shoulder when he noticed his absentminded demeanor, and he too noticed the faint glow in the distance. “Good job, Deputy,” Kyle chuckled as he pushed forward.
Henry stood there still staring at the sparse light as it moved around the forest some ways away. Henry blinked hurriedly to get his mind back into the game and quickly followed after Kyle.
Kyle climbed over some thick grass and stepped into a field where he shined his flashlight on several people with his free hand resting on his belt right beside his gun holster. “Hello, fellas,” Kyle said, surprised to find a whole five men standing in the field. Kyle eyed them suspiciously as he darted the beam of light to the various few, waiting until one would talk.
Henry pushed through grass and arrived several feet behind where Kyle stood. He moved his light around the area. He felt the chill drift past him and towards the suspicious strangers standing in the clearing about twenty feet away from them.
Kyle spoke up again. “Listen, we got a couple of kids saying you had drugs in your tent there.” He moved the beam to a practically deconstructed tent and shook his head disappointedly. “Mind if we have a look?” he asked, a little uneasily, already knowing the answer.
One of the people finally raised their voice, instead of whispering among themselves. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Henry took over, knowing Kyle was probably out of his element. “Do you mind if we take a look inside the tent?” Henry asked as he took a step forward and shined his light into the eyes of the speaker.
“We’d rather not. Personal stuff in there,” the same man answered. “Besides,” he retorted with a snarky tone, “don’t need a warrant?”
Henry approached one of the men. He stood about fifteen feet off from the nearest one, one of the silent ones who let the other guy talk for them. It was at that moment Henry noticed something even more off. They were dressed in old clothes that looked dirty. He thought to get a better look so he shined the light at the man’s waistline and saw the man’s hand hovering over a pistol in his belt. “Leave your gun alone,” Henry ordered as he reached for his own.
Before he could react, the man had drawn his gun on him and the others followed suit in ample time. Kyle and him both had about two guns aimed at them. The duo withdrew their hands from their holsters and raised them into the air, with their fingers still wrapped around the flashlights as they continued to shine it on the drug dealers.
The talkative man cracked a sick smile as him and his buddies held the sheriff’s at gunpoint. The man in the far back was switching his aim from him to Kyle, when Henry could have sworn the man froze and shivered violently for a brief second. As the man resumed motion, he was like a puppet as he aimed for the first of the other drug dealers and fired a loud shot off into their head. Everyone suddenly faced him and another one of the drug dealers tried to aim at him, but the man in the far back had already shot another in the neck by the time he was blasted to pieces by the remaining two with about five bullets each. They all stood wide eyed and surprised, sickened and scared as they returned their guns to Kyle and Henry again. Suddenly though, the one to the far left shook suddenly stiffened like the one who took aim at their allies, and turned to the last drug dealer. He pulled the trigger without hesitation and fourth one crumbled into the grass dead.
The finally man faced the Kyle and Henry, but did not take aim. The pistol fell from his hand and clattered into the tall grass. Henry instantly reached for his own pistol and drew it on the remaining man. Kyle did the same with hands shaking considerably. When the girm light of Henry’s torch flashed upon the man’s face, it appeared he had a bleeding nose.
Kyle looked towards Henry, desperately looking for guidance. Henry tilted his head towards the newly fallen man as he ran with his pistol pointed to him. He kneeled beside him and grabbed the gun. “Help me turn him over!” Henry shouted as he returned his own gun to his holster and kept out the one he just retrieved. He put one hand on the man’s body and pushed with Kyle’s help. He rolled over with ease onto his back, and the two got a perfect look at his face. The face that greeted them was an awful sight. Blood freshly dripped from his nose and ears. His eyes were rolled back slight, but still opened, and a small line of blood slowly flowed from his eye.
Kyle scoffed with disgust. Henry felt the same but did not show on his expression. “What the fuck just happened?” he hissed to Henry as he rushed towards one of the other fallen to check if they were alive.
Henry continued to inspect the man who inexplicably turned on his own guys. “I…” he bit his lip nervously. He hadn’t seen anything this violent since his days in the Los Angeles Police Department. He’d never seen something this bizarre in his whole life. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied, awestruck. “I don’t fucking know.”
Samantha Jones
The urge to close her eyes was becoming irresistible. Her body wanted her to just let her eyes shut. She wanted to, as well. The van’s interior and Kayla faded as her eyes fell closed, rolled back in her head and she drifted off into a very deep sleep. There wasn’t anything. It was just a deathly darkness. A horrifying silence. A monstrous calm.
Everything began slowly dulling in color. Brightening until that had been pure darkness was a pure light. She stood in an open space. It had a tall ceiling and the walls were at least twenty-five feet away in all directions. The room she stood in was oddly unsolid. Its corners were vague and undecided. It was empty except for herself. She was alone. Then she wasn’t. A man appeared as a picture on the wall in front of her. She watched as it turned to a video of him knocking down a vase full of flowers in frustration. It took a second to realize it in her numb state of mind, but it was her father. The video on the wall was minimized to half its size and pushed to the side by another video, this time of a woman crying into her arms in front of a bathroom mirror for an unknown reason. They shrunk again and the walls around were steadily filling with different videos continually playing new content. It went on for a while. An unknown amount of time passed just watching these things unfold in front of her. Eventually it all started to grow dull again, blur until it was just a strange mess of colors. Then the darkness began to take hold again and it all slowly faded to black...
Samantha woke. It wasn’t a calm fading like it had been before. This time it was a jump. A shot of air entering her lungs as she gasp for breath with wide eyes. She moved around and ripped out an IV stuck into her arm and the oximetry clipped to her finger. Worse of all, there was something in her neck. A tube that she scratched at and attempted to remove while panicking. Taking shallow breaths too quickly. Frantic footsteps sounded from outside the room she resided in and the door to her right was flung open by a nurse to calm her down. But the nurse simply couldn’t. After a few seconds, Samantha felt something stab her arm. It wasn't instantaneous, but the sedative began to take held. She became only vaguely aware of what was happening around. She was being tied to her hospital bed to prevent her from hurting herself. Whatever they injected her with worked its magic, as she soon faded back into sleep while the doctors and nurse began to take care of her.
Okay, okay, okay. I know. It was short. Very, very short. But that's just it, the five chapters listed are the planned ones. I'm thinking the story might extend further than those first five. So, bear with me and my short chapters. Now, even though it was a short chapter, I like to ask question at the end of each... so... here's a bunch of questions you can answer if he'd like. It would be very appreciated
Who are your favorite characters and why?
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
That was short? Maybe i need to update my perspective on what a 'long' part is.
1 Not sure i haven't finished reading :P
2 Look at number 1
3 Not sure yet
4 As far as i can tell no this is great
5 Same as number 3
6 An abandoned sanitorium, Somebody with red eyes, a recreation of one of the 7 wonders of the world, a demon, a refrence to Multiverse Prime and a serial killer.......what you said anything
7 Nothing and everything at once.
8 Not sure ill double check but i did not see any.
Okay, okay, okay. I know. It was short. Very, very short. But that's just it, the five chapters listed are the planned ones. I'm thinking th… moree story might extend further than those first five. So, bear with me and my short chapters. Now, even though it was a short chapter, I like to ask question at the end of each... so... here's a bunch of questions you can answer if he'd like. It would be very appreciated
Who are your favorite characters and why?
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
It is awesome that this story is back Very excited for the new parts! I'm not sure if I can answer all of the questions in the amount of detail I answered the last Monument questions, but I'll try my best.
Who are your favorite characters and why?
It has been a long time since we last read about everyone, but I think I still know my favourites. Thomas is a very cool guy, perhaps one of the most friendly people encountered so far in my opinion, as well as always calm and polite. While I disliked that he let the P.E. teacher get away with mocking Alex' death, I liked the rest of his parts in this chapter. Another favourite of mine is Rachel, naturally, for being just all around awesome. I loved her role in this chapter and look forward for where her storyline is going. And perhaps I could include Henry here too, whose final part in this chapter has been very interesting as well.
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
Wade Pittman, the P.E. bastard. I mean, being a goddamn asshole is one thing. Mocking a grieving father and insulting his dead son only hours after said son died takes it to a whole new level. I regret that I have picked the option with letting Thomas handling it, because that meant that he even got away with it for now, but I deeply hope that he is going to be put through a lot of agony for this sooner or later. I'm not sure if there has been any other character I actually dislike. Clive redeemed himself in my eyes in this chapter and there have been no others I actually disliked before.
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Samantha, certainly. Something is not right with that girl and I have no idea what it is. I'd like to learn more about Thomas backstory too.
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Here's the thing that I honestly don't know anymore if there has been anything that did not work in the past two chapters for me. I am pretty sure there has been nothing that really bothered me. At least in this last part, everything has been great, even if the confrontation with that bastard Wade has been a bit dissatisfying in my opinion, as a result of our choices of course.
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
Not really. The investigation took a few steps forward, but the characters who are not yet that involved in the investigation (Thomas, Rachel, Clive) had their time to shine as well, and I am pretty sure that at least some of them might make important discoveries of their own that could help with the investigation. I liked the pacing of the chapter and while I would have loved it to be a bit longer, I still enjoyed it the way it was.
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
Nothing specific here. A few answers to the happenings in Silicon (most of all, who is the bastard that killed Alex) would be nice, but I actually wouldn't mind if every answer would give me two new questions, as I enjoy speculating about what might have happened.
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Aliens, perhaps? That is probably unlikely. But something supernatural happened for sure. Perhaps a military experiment gone wrong, or some other sort of supernatural stuff. At least Samantha's visions of Luke and the cold presence Thomas felt in this last part sound similar to ghost activities. And whatever happened with the drug dealers in Henry's part, I have the feeling it might be responsible for Alex' death as well. Perhaps it has something to do with drugs, since Alex has been involved in minor drug trade as well.
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
I haven't spotted a single mistake here, but I am not good at spotting mistakes. Of course, my own grammar is far from flawless, so there is always the possibility that I just don't realize a grammar mistake when I see it, but I am convinced that this has not been the case here.
Okay, okay, okay. I know. It was short. Very, very short. But that's just it, the five chapters listed are the planned ones. I'm thinking th… moree story might extend further than those first five. So, bear with me and my short chapters. Now, even though it was a short chapter, I like to ask question at the end of each... so... here's a bunch of questions you can answer if he'd like. It would be very appreciated
Who are your favorite characters and why?
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
I favor every character submitted, they seem very distinct from each other which is always nice. I might have to go back and look if i have to pick an all time, been awhile.
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
Don't have any at the moment.
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Samantha, a woman of mystery.
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Nope
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
Uh, I can't say. I like the mood and the tone of this story. I trust you never disappoint :]
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
If I had to say, a showdown between the killer and the protagonist(s)
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Something supernatural if I had to guess.
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Samantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nightstand. She wore the blueish green hospital gown, and an IV replaced in her arm. This time she was not struggling to breathe, because whatever was sticking out of her neck was gone now. Replaced by what seemed like gauze and tape, covering the uncomfortable hole in her neck. She shuddered when remembering the tube stuck in her throat.
She shook the memory from her mind and focused on the room she resided in. It was small, and the door to her right was oddly uninviting. It was a cold, dull grey, like the rest of the room. Samantha spotted the bed note sitting at the foot of her bed and pushed herself towards it on her elbows, trying to avoid stressing the IV tube, in an attempt to nudge it with her toes. Before she could reach it, the nurse pushed the door open again and was slightly startled to see Samantha in this awkward position.
The nurse’s expression of surprise quickly turned to a welcoming smile and greeted her. “Hello,” the nurse said calmly with the smile Samantha found somewhat disconcerting. “You’re awake.”
Samantha nodded, eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” she said shockingly quietly. Her own voice was unfamiliar and possessed a raspiness that she was not expecting. “What....” she paused, and checked head for signs of an injury. “What happened to me?” she questioned anxiously.
Well,” the nurse said glumly, “we… don’t exactly know for sure. What we do know is you’ve had some sort of head trauma. You’re entire system was extremely stressed when your mother brought you in.”
“So you don’t know what happened to me?” Samantha frowned sorrowfully and asked a different question. “Well how have I been sleep?” she asked.
The nurse frowned and her face grew serious. Although her tone remained calm, it was clear she was trying to keep Samantha herself calm as well. “You’ve been in a coma for the past month. Thirty-two days. But you’ve been sleeping, thanks to the sedative, for the last half of the afternoon.”
“A coma?” Samantha exclaimed, rather suddenly and fully sitting up straight at the news. “A whole month?” she exclaimed further. “Where are my parents? I’d like to see them.”
“It’s alright, calm down,” the nurse advised as she stepped away from the bed and to the wall where she pressed a button, it crackled to life and she spoke into the intercom. “Samantha Jones is awake,” she announced into it. She turned back to Samantha and asked: “Is there anything I can do to make more comfortable until your parents arrive?”
Samantha licked her dry lips. “Can I have some water?” she asked as the itchy feeling in her throat persisted annoyingly. The nurse kindly pointed past her, “It’s beside you,” she said smiling. It was then when Samantha noticed a plastic TV tray sitting to her left. She nodded appreciatively and the nurse turned to leave. Samantha reached for the glass of water sitting on the tray and rose it to her lips. Samantha raised an eyebrow when she noticed a piece of folded deteriorative paper sitting next to it. After easing her painfully dry throat with a slip of water, Samantha retrieved the note and unfolded it in her hands, then read:
“I felt eyes on me. Your eyes. So please indulge me. Think of your brother. He’s attending college in Minnesota at this time. Picture him as vividly as you can in his dorm. Imagine the passing of time and remain in the room. Stop thinking of the time going by when you start to notice something that can only be described as unexplainable.”
Samantha read the short note thorough several times to try understand what it meant. Focus on her brother’s dorm? Why? There did not seem to be a point in doing this. Samantha sighed and checked her surrounds. The hallway outside her door seemed quiet enough, she would not be disturbed.
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
A timeskip was the last thing I've been expecting. Poor Samantha, but it's good that she's woken up. This strange note she got made me very curious. I'm also curious what the others have been up to during this past month, especially when it comes to the investigation.
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Sa… moremantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nights… [view original content]
(!) Out of sheer boredom, Samantha will play along and do as the note says
The part is nearly finished. I got the continuation of Samantha's part done and about half of a Clive part finished. I'm going to be leaving for something soon, so I won't be able to get much more work done. Hopefully, it'll be finished completely sometime tonight or tomorrow!
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she considered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and they did. After it had circled itself about five times, she seemed to imagine the sound of shattering glass lucidly, and the glass shattered upwards, into the room, followed by a man dressed in full black, with their face covered. Sam went with it and watched as the person removed their backpack from over their shoulder and pulled out a can of spray paint. The intruder started spraying on the wall with clock, making letters. Starting with an S, then more letters followed until the vividly red spray paint was dripping down the wall with the sentence “Strange, isn’t it, Sam?” plainly visible. She guessed she had quite the imagination.
Samantha heard the sound of the doorknob twisting and she opened her eyes to see a doctor stepping inside with her mother and father. She closed the note and set it aside. “Mom, dad,” she said with a thankful smile as they came to her side. The doctor stood several feet behind them and stepped over to the foot of the bed where he updated the bed notes with a pin while smiling as well.
“You’re awake!” her mother exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. Samantha did her best to exchange hugs with both her mother and father while the IV was still in her arm. She flashed a smile to her father and they all looked towards the doctor for an answer after Samantha asked, “When can I go home?”
The doctor pushed his glasses closer to his nose and smiled along with them. “We’ll like to run a few test before sending you home. All in all, if everything goes alright, I’d say about a week.” The doctor lowered the bed note’s board, clicked his tongue and proudly added, “Maybe less.”
Clive Carson, St. Rob Memorial
It was a grim day. Dark gray clouds blanketed the sky and it sprinkled lightly around the gravel and Clive walked in. Perhaps it was inappropriate to think, but to Clive it seemed like the perfect weather to being visiting a gravel and. Eerie and grim were the right words to describe the mood of the hilltop path he walked on. It was a damp gravel road that ran and split into four directions every thirty or so feet to provide a place to walk without stepping over many graves to get where one would need to go. Parents like himself would come to mourn the loss of a child. Lovers would come to mourn their lovers like he had done more mourning the loss of his beloved wife. Children would come to mourn the loss of their parents like his daughter would do many a time once he passed away. That is what graveyards were to Clive. Places to mourn. Places to cry without judgment. A place where, if you came alone, people mind their own business and let you cry. In Clive’s honest opinion, he preferred it.
Everywhere Clive went, he would think like this. Like everything he saw was writing on a poetic page. He saw a tree move in the wind, his inner thoughts would think of an accompanying string of words to describe it. The chilling wind made the trees sway in their gusts. Or when he sat at the bar chatting with his good friend Thomas, The two men sat laughing with one another to numb the dull, grim mood that the days out of the bar, and away from his friend, had become.
It was starting to piss Clive off a bit. Anything and everything reminded him of writing. Every action and reaction. Perhaps it was time to give into his thoughts and resume writing. He had stopped abruptly when Alexander died and had only scribbled down ideas since, only to keep them from piling up on his mind. His conscious was particularly stressed recently since Rachel had started dating. Rachel seemed happy enough with her boyfriend. It was time he stopped skirting around the two. A lot could happen in a month, it seemed. Time past, but deeply cut wounds only turned to scars. They would never fully heal, only fade with the passing months, years.
Clive silently cursed for losing his sense of direction in the field of headstones and statues. After gaining his bearings, he finally neared the grave of his son. It was a rudimentary, dampened stone with his name, and date of birth and death chiseled into it. If there was one grimmest thing about the graveyard, it was the numbers and letters that described the person buried in the ground in front of it. So easily, it could have been someone else filling this spot of ground. But no. It was his son who was killed and put to rest in this dull spot of dirt. He deserved much more than this. Half the poor bastards in this graveyard probably did. Fate was cruel like that, he supposed.
A phone began to ring inside Clive’s long coat’s pocket. He reached in and retrieved the silver-gray, cased electronic and unfolded it. Clive held it to his ear. “Hello, who is it?” he asked glumly.
“It’s Rachel,” she replied with a forcibly calm tone. “Look, I was thinking it was about time Henry, you and I share dinner. It’s…” Rachel paused momentarily to check the clock, “five-thirty right now, so me and Henry will probably done making the food by six. Can you try to get back by then?” she asked, hopefully awaiting his answer.
“Of course,” Clive sighed as he paced around the gravel path anxiously. “I’ll see you then. Give Parker my regards,” he added somewhat sarcastically. It definitely was not appreciated by Rachel, although she let it slide, Clive could hear the annoyance in her tone as she continued: “Just be there. Anyway. Bye, dad,” she finished, her voice softening considerably.
“Bye Rachel,” Clive said affectionately into the phone. The sound of the phone snapping shut entered his ear and he shoved it back into his coat’s pocket. He produced a package of cigarettes and abstracted a single one to place between his lips. After returning the package to his coat, he produced another item, this time a lighter. He lit the end of the cigarette and made a soul expression as he took a deep puff. He exhaled the smoke in a circular motion starting from his left shoulder and finishing at his right. Then he began looking back at the trail of smoke as it began to dissipate. It seemed to be distorted around his left. He could have sworn something of orb-like form hovered at eye level with him.
“Hey there,” he said as he reluctantly took another puff of the cigarette. He exhaled towards the presence of the orb-like thing to further strengthen its silhouette. “I could feel your presence. That chill unlike the wind,” he explained to the invisible thicket of air that looked like an orb. “You’re following me around, aren’t you? Well, don’t you dare try to possess me or some other shit, you strange, little thing.”
So what if a ghost was following him? It did not seem particularly interested in possessing him at the time, although he thought it well to make it abundantly clear he did not want that to happen. God knows, he could not tell Rachel about this. She would not believe him. Clive doubted anyone would believe him if he said, ‘Yeah, uh, there’s this thing following me… I think it’s a ghost.’ For kicks, he imagined himself looking over his shoulder and having an argument with its ghostly, invisible silhouette. It would sometimes catch the light, or appear in the corner of his eye, as the orb-like thing.
Clive tossed the cigarette to the graveled path and smothered it beneath his shoe. He coughed the remaining smoke out of his lungs as he continued up the path, back towards the parking lot. Clive pulled the door to his red truck open and climbed inside it. He turned the key and it started. Clive felt an unearthly chill run down his spine, goosebumps tingle across his skin, and he then shook his head, “Tisk, tisk,” he sighed as he returned the lighter and cigarette to his hand. He lit up the second cigarette and inhaled the disgusting smoke. Exhaling, the orb-like silhouette appeared vaguely there, floating over the passenger’s seat. “Well, what the fuck do you want?” Clive huffed as he coughed. He had to find an easier way to do this—without the cigarettes.
Of course, he was met by silence. “Well…” he sighed once more. Clive had a grim thought and he frowned while tapping the cigarette out the window. “I can see you. I mean… you’re right there, so I don’t think I’m crazy… but, you’re not my son, Alex, are you?” The presence seemed to be unable to answer like it always had. “Well,” Clive mumbled, “tag along if you’d like. Nothing interesting is going to happen. You might as well find someone else to spectate. Give them the willies for me.”
Clive took one last puff and dispersed the smoke in the passenger’s seat when it began to fade slightly, only to find that the silhouette of the orb had vanished. He frowned and coughed as the smoke began to sting his eyes. Clive pushed open the door and smothered the cigarette against the pavement between the road and his shoe, then finally let out a long sigh as he began driving back towards Silicon.
Am I actually going crazy? Clive asked himself in a thought that he was only vaguely aware of as he drove. Probably not. I mean… it was definitely there. It was real… It was…
Carson’s House, River Street
Clive pulled up to the curb and climbed out of his car, then approached his house. As he moved forward, he caught a peaked at the house across the street. The Page’s place was now just a cleared off cement slab with two large dumpsters waiting to be moved. Clive walked up the steps to his porch and looked at his wristwatch. It was only fifteen until six, he was glad he would not spike Rachel’s frustration with his lateness. Though he feared she might smell the smoky odor on his clothes. She was thoughtful for his health. He knew she would not like the idea of him smoking. luckily it was not an addiction, instead it was much more complex than that, that would most likely be a lot more difficult to explain.
Pulling the screen door open, Clive entered his house and the door fell shut behind him. He immediately breathed in the familiar, homely scent that filled his house, which was accompanied by a second smell. Clive guessed it was whatever Rachel and Henry had fixed for dinner. He stripped himself of his coat and hung it over the rack by the door as he continued further into the house. Clive paused briefly in front of the door to his study, somewhat sad that he would have to delay writing even longer. But he thought little of it as he walked into the living room and was happily greeted by Rachel, who hugged him gently, her nose winkling out of Clive’s view, and then she directed him towards the man leaning on the kitchen counter.
Henry’s brown hair glistened with gel to keep the natural curls down slightly. His beard was trimmed thinner and much shorter than it was last time he saw him, and he wore a comfortable, red button up, checkered-plaid, long sleeve shirt.
Clive put on a smile and shook hands with him, with Rachel’s hand resting on his shoulder as he did so. “Henry,” he said, mildly interested, “good to see you. Alive and well, I see.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had a cold in an awful long time,” Henry replied while Clive chuckled. “How’s writing?” Henry asked, unknowningly taking what Clive saw as a mocking jab towards him. When, in reality, it was genuine curiosity.
“Fine, fine,” he answered, doing his best to brush over the topic, because, in fact, he had not written anything in the long month. “How’s work?” Clive questioned with a innocent expression. This jab to him was intentional. Perhaps Clive was a little resentful towards the sheriff’s department after the case for his son's murder was shelved.
“Can’t get over the stillness of the job now,” Henry said glumly. “It’s just been ungodly slow. Now I can definitely say I don’t mind it being slow, however. Everything that… last month, just feels finished.”
“I agree,” Clive sighed. “So, there’s nothing? Now news?” Clive ashed with hopeless filling his tone.
“Nothing concrete.” Henry scratched his beard, and then added, “Well, I say that, but one of the girls who found the campsite went into a coma-like state about half an hour after leaving the scene. I got a call from Clyde saying that the girl woke up about an hour ago. We’re going to try to see if she knows anything we might have overlooked, but it’s not looking too good.”
Clive shifted his eyes to glance at Rachel slyly before bringing it up. “I heard rumors… And only rumors, that something strange happened that night. You know, when you were investigating the woods.” Clive narrowed his eyes. “Sounded awfully odd, if you asked me. But the one of those drug dealers didn’t get shot, right? I heard he’s still kicking.”
Henry scoffed. “I wouldn’t call it kicking. The guy’s a vegetable. Alive, still. But he’s apparently not showing as many good signs as Samantha Jones did. Brain activity,” Henry spun a finger around the side of his head, “and all that. Doctors doubt he’ll ever come out of the coma. And it doesn’t help that we haven’t been able to find family.” Henry sighed, adding: “Honestly, I’d like to thank him. If it wasn’t for him and the other guy, I doubt I or Kyle would have ever been seen again. Besides, I bet he knows more than we do about this whole thing.”
Henry raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What could he know?” he asked.
“That’s the thing—we don’t know.” Henry leaned in closer. “Between you and me, I doubt he could tell us much besides his reason for being there. But the bigger problem is that Alex’s--” Henry considerately paused to avoid upsetting Clive. “There’s still a supplier out there. These guys at the campsite—it wasn’t them.”
Rachel finally joined the conversation. “As much as I like it when the two of you aren’t exchanging vager blows, we have dinner all set up. It’ll be a shame to like it wait any longer. So… let’s all take a seat.” Rachel directed the two towards the table and they all took a seat.
A cold, uncanny shiver ran down Clive’s spine and he quickly began eying the dinning room up and down to see if the orb was near him. He felt it. Rachel looked at him suspiciously during this strange endeavor as her father looked around the room cautiously. “You see something?” she questioned while taking a utensil in hand.
Clive snapped back out of his daze and gave a conspicuous smile as he attempted to appear sidetracked. “No. Nothing, I’m just looking around,” he replied. “Uh…” he gestured to Henry with a fork and then to Rachel, “so how has everything? Outside of work.”
“Well,” Henry said proudly, “we’ve been going steady for the last two weeks. It’s been nice.” He flashed Rachel a happy smile, and then returned to his plate. “But, uh, it’s…” he spun some of his pasta on his fork with a disappointed frown, “it’s been a rough week. Things seem to be lightening up though.”
“What’s up?” Clive asked with genuine concern.
“My dad passed away last weekend,” he said.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Clive set his fork down and folded his hands together on top of the table. “I know when my father passed, it was... very hard, even at my age.” Clive tried to show a little heart and smiled toward Rachel. “When you get to be my age, you see everyone that meant anything to you, just keep dropping. It’s disheartening. But…” his smile towards Rachel strengthened, “you’ll find things that’ll open your right up.”
“Yeah, I know,” Henry grimly smiled. “I guess I’ve already went through that. I hate city life. Everything just moves too fast. Friends would move on and people you’d think we're by your side would just…” he shook his head reluctantly, “heartlessly vanish.”
“Same disheartening feeling, I guess,” Clive said as he sipped his drink.
“My wife left me a note,” Henry said. He noticed Rachel frown, but he continued anyway. “She left in the middle of the night, took my son, and ran off with some… asshole.”
Clive was not prepared for that. He uncrossed his hands and reached across the table and patted him on the shoulder thoughtfully. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sympathetically.
Henry flashed a thankful smile and he took a sip of his water. “I appreciate it. This whole town, really. Since I’ve come here… pretty much everything has been better. The whole entire town just emanates something hopeful. It’s a new life and one I couldn’t live without.” His somewhat grim expression fell upon Rachel and it brightened considerably.
Rachel spoke up, moving the hair from her eyes. “I’ve enjoyed living here as well.” She frowned, but took Clive’s hand to keep her face from darkening any further. “Without Alex’s here, though, it just feels a little too quiet. Too peaceful. Too… unlike home. But we can’t mourn forever, can we?”
Clive nodded in grim agreeance. “It’s true. Why be miserable when you can be happy? And seeing you happy, it definitely makes me forget. I’m glad you too are happy together.”
For the first time in a very long time, he saw eye to eye with his daughter, and with Henry. It was like they were a family again. He almost hoped Rachel and Henry stayed together for a very long time, just so this feeling would stay. He raised his glass of water and smiled. “A toast,” Clive began, “A toast to…”
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
Rachel surprised me in this part. While I am pretty sure that at least most of her seeming balance is not entirely genuine and only something she puts up for her father's sake, she is undoubtly far less stressed-out than she has been the last time we saw her. I highly doubt she is truly moving on though. I'm also surprised that she is already starting to date someone again, considering how horribly her last relationship ended. Henry is a nice guy though and maybe he can make her happy. I hope he is more to her than just a coping mechanism and I really hope he can deal with her flaws. However, at the moment it appears to me that he is at least a bit of a coping mechanism for her, as I don't buy any of her 'moving on'-talk. I wonder if Henry knows the details about Rachel's last relationship and if he knows about her worrying medication habit. And I also wonder if Rachel herself is still hellbent on finding her brothers killer. As I said, I highly doubt that she truly moved on already.
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she consi… moredered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and the… [view original content]
I've been busy with another story for the time being and have once again neglected this story for too long. I haven't taken the time to continue where I left off and will try to return to this soon. I've been conflicted on which direction I want to take the story, which is in part to blame for the long wait. Anyway, I have been devoting most of my time to building a Halloween costume and that's been eating my time up, but I'm making good progress on it! If it's worth sharing, I just might post a picture of it
Finally, I should say I'll be taking a look at what I have planned for Silicon. I'll try to get a part out soon enough.
As some might have noticed, I have updated the main post's table of contents and will confirm here as well that there will be a second act. Titles for the chapters are pending and might not be revealed until the end of the first act. So, to reiterate, I've been planning ahead and writing the new part. Part 3 of chapter 3 is coming soon.
Update:
As some might have noticed, I have updated the main post's table of contents and will confirm here as well that there will be a s… moreecond act. Titles for the chapters are pending and might not be revealed until the end of the first act. So, to reiterate, I've been planning ahead and writing the new part. Part 3 of chapter 3 is coming soon.
“A toast to family,” Clive finally said as he raised his glass.
“To family,” Rachel agreed.
“Family,” Henry concluded softly, reluctantly participating.
The three clinked their glasses together and Clive slowly slipped back into his seat as he drank some of the glass’s contents. “It’s a shame,” Clive murmured into his glass. “Lots of people I… we all wish were still around.”
Henry narrowed his eyes slightly, becoming a little suspicious of Clive’s hospitality—his friendliness was often something reserved for people not like himself. Clive even admitted to have a grudge against the sheriff’s office for hitting a dead end in Alexander’s murder. Despite this, Henry raised his eyebrows regretfully and nodded before he leaned back in his chair as well. He would not let simple suspicion get in the way of a peaceful dinner, though he was preparing to resign himself from the table and house alike.
“You know, Henry, I’m curious about what this girl might know. Do you think Samantha is holding onto something?” Clive questioned as he swished the liquid around its glass. “I can’t think of anything she might know.”
“Well,” Henry said, vaguely shrugging, “we don’t have any idea either. It could be many number of things. We aren’t expecting anything groundbreaking, though.”
Rachel sipped her drink with a laidback demeanor, but in her eyes, she seemed stressed about something. Clive could see it. He assumed Henry could as well. The sudden silence took a grip on Rachel and she sat forward to speak up. “Samantha Jones’s condition was stange. She went into a coma-like state after experiencing a sudden, splitting headache. It’s mysterious and hasn’t been explained by any of the doctors.” She tapped her fingers on the table decisively. “She could have taken something—”
Henry shot her a disappointed look and shook his head, interrupting her. “They didn’t find any drugs in her system. Probably isn’t even related to… the drug dealers or Alexander’s murder.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Rachel said. “It’s got to be connected. All of it. Luke Page’s disappearance and Alex’s murder have to be. Maybe Samantha’s spontaneous coma is connected, too. It has to be a part of this.”
Clive looked between the two and sensed a disagreement that his daughter and Henry shared. “Is there something I should know?” he asked, keeping the worry from his voice and replacing it with an oblivious tone.
Henry took a deep breath and sat his drink on the table. Folding his arms on it, he looked between the two then at his hand. “Everything happened rather…” he paused, flashing a sad, speculative expression at Clive, “sudden. Page’s disappearance, Alex’s murder, Samantha going into a coma; they all happened in such a short period of time… so… it might not all be pure coincidence. I’m not so sure. But nothing of that magnitude has happened in Silicon since Mr. Callahan killed his wife and then himself, and that was at least a year ago.”
Clive narrowed his eyes. “Callahan?”
He received a grim nod from Henry. “It was awful. Nothing could have been done, sadly, we found the aftermath.” Henry let the silence sink in for a second before continuing. “Did you know them?”
Clive quickly shook his head, taking a sip of his drink to settle his mild nausea. “No. I know their son, Thomas.” Clive looked past Henry while taking another sip from his glass. At the far end of the room, Clive saw what could only be described as thick air that had shape. It looked vaguely human and was simple watching them have a late dinner. Clive wanted to point it out to his daughter, to see if she could see the silhouette, but he felt compelled to keep Rachel and Henry’s attention away from it. Whatever it was, it was definitely following him.
Something else started to numb Clive’s perception of the room. It blurred creepily and the faces of Henry and Rachel looked at him with confusion. Rachel immediately tried to say something, but her words didn’t register with the old writer. Things seemed to worsen, and Clive’s impaired vision made the room rock like a ship at sea. As he began to fall from his seat, Rachel reached for him with a terrified expression; he was unconscious before he could hit the hardwood floor.
Clive slowly opened his eyes and was greeted by the textured ceiling. The room was hazy and it was difficult to follow a straight line of thought. Although, once he realized he was on the floor, he rolled over and started pushing himself with mild challenge. Hurried footsteps sounded from the living room and Rachel stepped through threshold that connected it to the dining room. Clive gave her a pained expression as she rushed to his side. His head was ringing slightly.
“Dad!” Rachel exclaimed. She rushed towards him with a telephone in her hand. Rachel escorted him to his feet and helped him into a chair. “Are you alright? You collapsed!”
“I-- I, uh… I’m...” Clive blinked twice to clear his vision and he scanned the room briefly, he saw that the front door was wide open. “I’m alright,” he completed his sentence quickly to calm his daughter. “There… There’s something I should have told you. It’s strange,” he surveyed the room again only to find the dense air hovering near the other side of the room, “it might come as shock…”
“Why?” Rachel narrowed her worried eyes and her mouth fell open slightly. “Your health… is it…”
Henry interrupted her with his entry from the front door. “I got Kyle on the radio and--” He saw Clive setting in the chair and quickly hurried to his side. “ Clive! How are you feeling?”
Clive let the room fall silent as he considered that. He set almost motionlessly in the chair as he tried to figure out if he was hurting. It began clear quickly that he was fine. “It was only momentarily,” he finally answered. “I’m… okay now. I’m all better. I just need… maybe a glass of water...”
“So you just collapsed and now you’re all better?” Rachel reiterated with a worried protectiveness in her tone. “We’re taking you to the hospital, dad. You had a fucking heart attack last year!”
“And because of that I know what it feels like to be having a heart attack!” he snapped back in a moment of ill-considered frustration. He realized he upset Rachel with his comment and lowered his voice to a calm whisper. “I seriously don’t think this was a heart attack.”
“Fine. If it wasn’t your heart,” Rachel considered, “what was it?”
He opened his mouth to speak and his gaze settled on the transparent silhouette. Clive lowered his voice even more and it came out as a feeble whimper. “I don’t think I took meditation.” He nodded, agreeing with himself. “Yes, I think that’s it.”
Henry looked between him and Rachel. “Should I call off the ‘backup’?”
Rachel nodded glumly and followed him into the living room. “I think it’s best if we call it night,” she said. “I’m sorry it was cut off short.”
“Probably for the best,” Henry replied, sighing disappointedly. “If sure, I’ll see you soon.” He and Rachel exchanged a half-hug and he left through the front door.
Rachel turned on her heel and stopped in her tracks just feet from the door. A cold shiver ran the length of her spine. She quickly walked it off and retrieved Clive’s medicine before returning to his side. She presented the small orange bottle and Clive reluctantly took it. Clive wasn’t that forgetful, he’d taken his medication and was just grasping for a viable answer to give to his daughter. He had no intention of seeing the inside of a hospital while a mysterious spectre was in his very living room, it could be the thing that made him light headed. But a problem did arise from his lie: he was now expected to take his heart medicine, which he had already taken. Hiding the pill under his tongue would probably do the trick, but with Henry gone, he could always reveal what he’d been seeing to his daughter.
[Come clean and reveal the strange presence to Rachel.]
[Hid the pill under your tongue to keep things secret.]
Comments
You do you, Hope. It's completely understandable, don't write for anyone but yourself.
It is post-apocalyptic with a lot of pre-apocalyptic stuff. It is more supernatural than just plain flashbacks. It's a little difficult to explain to be honest, since it is very cross-genre.
I see what you mean. Thank you!
Sounds cool do you already have a name for it?
I have a working title, "Upon the Sky." Although I'm not sure if I will keep it.
Well good luck on that book.
Well I dont know the story but I like the title also be sure to tell use when its out im sure many people are willing to support you (me inclouded) because we already know how good your writing is XD
This isn't quite dead
It's been more than a month since I wrote for this story. So it's more than about time I had something to show for that month of absence. I'll start working on continuing this. It's going to take a few twist and turns story wise, mainly due to my prolonged departure from this story, so it may be a little wibbly wobbly for a bit. I'm not sure how soon I can get a part out, but hey, an announcement of some kind his better than continue silence, right? Anyway. I'll get back for you all soon!
Oh and I haven't closed the voting, have I?
(!) Clive will let Thomas handle it
Our overlord has returned!
CHAPTER TWO (Part 5)
Matters of the Heart
Thomas Callahan
Clive’s brow furrowed, like it normally did when he was pushed in any direction he did not wish to go. The level of anger show on his face always corresponded with his opinion of the person angering him. In this case, this P.E. teacher whose name was lost to Clive was pushing all the right buttons to drop his thought of the man to an absolute zero. As much as he wanted to make some obscene gesture towards him, Clive sighed reluctantly and rose from his stool. He patted Thomas on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he said genuinely. As he adjusted his overcoat to head back outside.
Thomas nodded regretfully, sorry to see him go before he could talk with him further. He turned a cold glare back to the drunken P.E. teacher and stared coldly at him until the bartender returned from the back room. A cocky smile lighten Thomas’ face, and he raised a finger to catch her attention. “Excuse me, miss,” he politely said, “I think this guy’s had a drink too many.”
The bartender eyed the drunken man up and down observantly, then nodded agreeingly. “Hey, buddy, you seem like you’ve had a enough. I’d call it a day if I were you.”
The man stared daggers at Thomas before waving his hand dismissively at the barkeep and returning to his drink. Thomas supposed it was better than nothing. The P.E. teacher guzzled down the remaining ounces and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Thomas’ eyes narrowed when he noticed the man sway back and forth steadily until he grabbed the edge of the counter like he the world was spinning.
Thomas rolled his eyes as he pulled a one and some spare change from his pocket to set on the counter by his emptied glass. He left his leather-topped stool and left the bar, ready to return him for some rest. As the door fell shut behind him, he immediately noticed the red pickup truck belonging to Carson sitting lonesomely in the parking lot. Thomas licked his lips and started towards it. Sure enough, Clive was sitting inside, glumly looking at something in his hand while resting his cheek on the other.
Clive Carson looked up at Thomas’ arrival by the driver’s side window after he gently knocked on it. He rolled it down about half way. “Hello again,” he said, forcing a smile. Thomas saw Clive click whatever it was he was looking at shut. It must have been a locket of sorts, though he knew not to pry.
“Listen, I’m going to head home, but let me give you my number. I’ve got plenty of year of counseling under me and would be happy to talk almost anytime.” He extend a small slip of paper with a phone number scribbled onto it through the window.
Clive took it and shoved it into his pocket. He shot up a smile and thanked him, saying, “I appreciate it.” He rolled up the window and pulled out of the small parking lot, and onto the small highway, leaving Thomas standing alone. Thomas felt a chill of frost run down his spine and he rolled down his dress shirt’s sleeve. It did little to relieve the sudden cold presence, so he jogged back to his white car and pulled open the door. Once he climbed into his car, he expected it to fade, and it did.
Thomas looked up at the small digital thermometer in the car and noted it was sitting at a warm seventy degrees. He shrugged it off once more and started the car. Thomas eventually arrived as his so-called home. He didn’t like to think about it, really. The house belonged to his parents and was the home he grew up in. Why he moved back to this godforsaken house was beyond him. It brought up so many bad memories, you’d think he would find it unhealthy. Perhaps it was, but he wanted to get back, closer to his roots. So this was the place.
Thomas pulled back the screen door then unlocked the thick front door. He set his small suitcase by the sofa and realized he left the book at the bar, causing him to let out a frustrated sigh. He knew it would be there when he got back. He was growing increasingly familiar with the bartender and knew they were an honest woman. It was the P.E. teacher Wade Pittman who he’d expect to take the book for no other reason than spite. But it was late and Thomas wasn’t in the mood to drive back down to the bar now.
Henry Parker
It seemed like this was the beginning of a really long night. Henry Parker stood by the side of the Jones’ diner with his hand resting on the corner of the building as he stared thoughtfully into the woods, waiting for Kyle to arrive. At this time Mitch had returned home and he didn’t want their secretary out where. Intent on looking into this campsite for hopefully some answer on Alexander’s death, Henry looked into the dark foliage that swayed softly with the breeze waiting for the sheriff’s officer arrival.
A car’s tires crackled on the pavement behind him and he turned to face a second sheriff’s car that had just pulled up at the diner. He jogged up to its window and was tossed a flashlight by the occupant as Kyle climbed out of the car. Kyle grabbed a second flashlight and walked up with Henry to the entrance of the shadowy woods.
Kyle stared skeptically into it. “Those kids mention how many people were at the campsite?” he asked.
Henry shook his head, and answered, “I didn’t think to ask. But there’s one tent.” Henry adjusted his overcoat when he felt an unsettling chill run down his back. He settled his hand on the butt of his gun. “C’mon, it should be this way,” he said, and Kyle followed behind him.
They waded through the grassy path, past one grimly illuminated tree after the next. They stood around and flashed their torches around once they came to a dead end. It was at the moment Henry felt the chill again. It run the course of his extended arm with the flashlight and his hair stood on end. Henry took a step back, ignoring the cold to get a better look at the whole area. As he stepped back, the chilling feeling followed him and then retreated in a discernible direction. Eying it confusedly, he peered in that small spot of wood to find a flash of light make its way through the thick of trees.
Kyle rested his hand on Henry’s shoulder when he noticed his absentminded demeanor, and he too noticed the faint glow in the distance. “Good job, Deputy,” Kyle chuckled as he pushed forward.
Henry stood there still staring at the sparse light as it moved around the forest some ways away. Henry blinked hurriedly to get his mind back into the game and quickly followed after Kyle.
Kyle climbed over some thick grass and stepped into a field where he shined his flashlight on several people with his free hand resting on his belt right beside his gun holster. “Hello, fellas,” Kyle said, surprised to find a whole five men standing in the field. Kyle eyed them suspiciously as he darted the beam of light to the various few, waiting until one would talk.
Henry pushed through grass and arrived several feet behind where Kyle stood. He moved his light around the area. He felt the chill drift past him and towards the suspicious strangers standing in the clearing about twenty feet away from them.
Kyle spoke up again. “Listen, we got a couple of kids saying you had drugs in your tent there.” He moved the beam to a practically deconstructed tent and shook his head disappointedly. “Mind if we have a look?” he asked, a little uneasily, already knowing the answer.
One of the people finally raised their voice, instead of whispering among themselves. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Henry took over, knowing Kyle was probably out of his element. “Do you mind if we take a look inside the tent?” Henry asked as he took a step forward and shined his light into the eyes of the speaker.
“We’d rather not. Personal stuff in there,” the same man answered. “Besides,” he retorted with a snarky tone, “don’t need a warrant?”
Henry approached one of the men. He stood about fifteen feet off from the nearest one, one of the silent ones who let the other guy talk for them. It was at that moment Henry noticed something even more off. They were dressed in old clothes that looked dirty. He thought to get a better look so he shined the light at the man’s waistline and saw the man’s hand hovering over a pistol in his belt. “Leave your gun alone,” Henry ordered as he reached for his own.
Before he could react, the man had drawn his gun on him and the others followed suit in ample time. Kyle and him both had about two guns aimed at them. The duo withdrew their hands from their holsters and raised them into the air, with their fingers still wrapped around the flashlights as they continued to shine it on the drug dealers.
The talkative man cracked a sick smile as him and his buddies held the sheriff’s at gunpoint. The man in the far back was switching his aim from him to Kyle, when Henry could have sworn the man froze and shivered violently for a brief second. As the man resumed motion, he was like a puppet as he aimed for the first of the other drug dealers and fired a loud shot off into their head. Everyone suddenly faced him and another one of the drug dealers tried to aim at him, but the man in the far back had already shot another in the neck by the time he was blasted to pieces by the remaining two with about five bullets each. They all stood wide eyed and surprised, sickened and scared as they returned their guns to Kyle and Henry again. Suddenly though, the one to the far left shook suddenly stiffened like the one who took aim at their allies, and turned to the last drug dealer. He pulled the trigger without hesitation and fourth one crumbled into the grass dead.
The finally man faced the Kyle and Henry, but did not take aim. The pistol fell from his hand and clattered into the tall grass. Henry instantly reached for his own pistol and drew it on the remaining man. Kyle did the same with hands shaking considerably. When the girm light of Henry’s torch flashed upon the man’s face, it appeared he had a bleeding nose.
Kyle looked towards Henry, desperately looking for guidance. Henry tilted his head towards the newly fallen man as he ran with his pistol pointed to him. He kneeled beside him and grabbed the gun. “Help me turn him over!” Henry shouted as he returned his own gun to his holster and kept out the one he just retrieved. He put one hand on the man’s body and pushed with Kyle’s help. He rolled over with ease onto his back, and the two got a perfect look at his face. The face that greeted them was an awful sight. Blood freshly dripped from his nose and ears. His eyes were rolled back slight, but still opened, and a small line of blood slowly flowed from his eye.
Kyle scoffed with disgust. Henry felt the same but did not show on his expression. “What the fuck just happened?” he hissed to Henry as he rushed towards one of the other fallen to check if they were alive.
Henry continued to inspect the man who inexplicably turned on his own guys. “I…” he bit his lip nervously. He hadn’t seen anything this violent since his days in the Los Angeles Police Department. He’d never seen something this bizarre in his whole life. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied, awestruck. “I don’t fucking know.”
Samantha Jones
The urge to close her eyes was becoming irresistible. Her body wanted her to just let her eyes shut. She wanted to, as well. The van’s interior and Kayla faded as her eyes fell closed, rolled back in her head and she drifted off into a very deep sleep. There wasn’t anything. It was just a deathly darkness. A horrifying silence. A monstrous calm.
Everything began slowly dulling in color. Brightening until that had been pure darkness was a pure light. She stood in an open space. It had a tall ceiling and the walls were at least twenty-five feet away in all directions. The room she stood in was oddly unsolid. Its corners were vague and undecided. It was empty except for herself. She was alone. Then she wasn’t. A man appeared as a picture on the wall in front of her. She watched as it turned to a video of him knocking down a vase full of flowers in frustration. It took a second to realize it in her numb state of mind, but it was her father. The video on the wall was minimized to half its size and pushed to the side by another video, this time of a woman crying into her arms in front of a bathroom mirror for an unknown reason. They shrunk again and the walls around were steadily filling with different videos continually playing new content. It went on for a while. An unknown amount of time passed just watching these things unfold in front of her. Eventually it all started to grow dull again, blur until it was just a strange mess of colors. Then the darkness began to take hold again and it all slowly faded to black...
Samantha woke. It wasn’t a calm fading like it had been before. This time it was a jump. A shot of air entering her lungs as she gasp for breath with wide eyes. She moved around and ripped out an IV stuck into her arm and the oximetry clipped to her finger. Worse of all, there was something in her neck. A tube that she scratched at and attempted to remove while panicking. Taking shallow breaths too quickly. Frantic footsteps sounded from outside the room she resided in and the door to her right was flung open by a nurse to calm her down. But the nurse simply couldn’t. After a few seconds, Samantha felt something stab her arm. It wasn't instantaneous, but the sedative began to take held. She became only vaguely aware of what was happening around. She was being tied to her hospital bed to prevent her from hurting herself. Whatever they injected her with worked its magic, as she soon faded back into sleep while the doctors and nurse began to take care of her.
End of CHAPTER TWO
Matters of the Heart
Larua Marling - Night Terror
Okay, okay, okay. I know. It was short. Very, very short. But that's just it, the five chapters listed are the planned ones. I'm thinking the story might extend further than those first five. So, bear with me and my short chapters. Now, even though it was a short chapter, I like to ask question at the end of each... so... here's a bunch of questions you can answer if he'd like. It would be very appreciated
Who are your favorite characters and why?
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
That was short? Maybe i need to update my perspective on what a 'long' part is.
1 Not sure i haven't finished reading :P
2 Look at number 1
3 Not sure yet
4 As far as i can tell no this is great
5 Same as number 3
6 An abandoned sanitorium, Somebody with red eyes, a recreation of one of the 7 wonders of the world, a demon, a refrence to Multiverse Prime and a serial killer.......what you said anything
7 Nothing and everything at once.
8 Not sure ill double check but i did not see any.
It is awesome that this story is back
Very excited for the new parts! I'm not sure if I can answer all of the questions in the amount of detail I answered the last Monument questions, but I'll try my best.
Who are your favorite characters and why?
It has been a long time since we last read about everyone, but I think I still know my favourites. Thomas is a very cool guy, perhaps one of the most friendly people encountered so far in my opinion, as well as always calm and polite. While I disliked that he let the P.E. teacher get away with mocking Alex' death, I liked the rest of his parts in this chapter. Another favourite of mine is Rachel, naturally, for being just all around awesome. I loved her role in this chapter and look forward for where her storyline is going. And perhaps I could include Henry here too, whose final part in this chapter has been very interesting as well.
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
Wade Pittman, the P.E. bastard. I mean, being a goddamn asshole is one thing. Mocking a grieving father and insulting his dead son only hours after said son died takes it to a whole new level. I regret that I have picked the option with letting Thomas handling it, because that meant that he even got away with it for now, but I deeply hope that he is going to be put through a lot of agony for this sooner or later. I'm not sure if there has been any other character I actually dislike. Clive redeemed himself in my eyes in this chapter and there have been no others I actually disliked before.
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Samantha, certainly. Something is not right with that girl and I have no idea what it is. I'd like to learn more about Thomas backstory too.
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Here's the thing that I honestly don't know anymore if there has been anything that did not work in the past two chapters for me. I am pretty sure there has been nothing that really bothered me. At least in this last part, everything has been great, even if the confrontation with that bastard Wade has been a bit dissatisfying in my opinion, as a result of our choices of course.
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
Not really. The investigation took a few steps forward, but the characters who are not yet that involved in the investigation (Thomas, Rachel, Clive) had their time to shine as well, and I am pretty sure that at least some of them might make important discoveries of their own that could help with the investigation. I liked the pacing of the chapter and while I would have loved it to be a bit longer, I still enjoyed it the way it was.
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
Nothing specific here. A few answers to the happenings in Silicon (most of all, who is the bastard that killed Alex) would be nice, but I actually wouldn't mind if every answer would give me two new questions, as I enjoy speculating about what might have happened.
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Aliens, perhaps? That is probably unlikely. But something supernatural happened for sure. Perhaps a military experiment gone wrong, or some other sort of supernatural stuff. At least Samantha's visions of Luke and the cold presence Thomas felt in this last part sound similar to ghost activities. And whatever happened with the drug dealers in Henry's part, I have the feeling it might be responsible for Alex' death as well. Perhaps it has something to do with drugs, since Alex has been involved in minor drug trade as well.
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
I haven't spotted a single mistake here, but I am not good at spotting mistakes. Of course, my own grammar is far from flawless, so there is always the possibility that I just don't realize a grammar mistake when I see it, but I am convinced that this has not been the case here.
Who are your favorite characters and why?
I favor every character submitted, they seem very distinct from each other which is always nice. I might have to go back and look if i have to pick an all time, been awhile.
Who are your least favorite characters and why?
Don't have any at the moment.
What characters do you find the most intriguing who you want to learn of about?
Samantha, a woman of mystery.
Are there any things you felt didn't work in this or previous chapters?
Nope
Are there any things you want to see more of that didn't see much light in the previous chapter?
Uh, I can't say. I like the mood and the tone of this story. I trust you never disappoint :]
What are some things you would like to see in the future?
If I had to say, a showdown between the killer and the protagonist(s)
What the hell do you think is happening in Silicon?
Something supernatural if I had to guess.
Do you have any suggestions or corrections to grammar that would be helpful?
Nope.
CHAPTER THREE (Part 1)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
A steady stream of light reddened the insides of Samantha’s closed eyelids. She peered slowly through the slits of her waking eyes at a woman dressed as a nurse who pulled the curtains to her left open, letting the sun’s light shine into the hospital room. Samantha silently watched the straighten them and turn to the door. Samantha followed the nurse with her blue eyes, careful to appear unmoving as she left the room and shut the door behind her. Samantha let out a sigh of relief as she sat up straight. Did she not trust the nurse? Perhaps she did not.
Samantha was thankful the room was solid. It lacked the pure whiteness and undefindment of the one in her subconscious. This one contained shadows casted by the window and the light overhead. It was mildly deteriorated, with a vase of flowers that possessed various colors was sat beside her on the nightstand. She wore the blueish green hospital gown, and an IV replaced in her arm. This time she was not struggling to breathe, because whatever was sticking out of her neck was gone now. Replaced by what seemed like gauze and tape, covering the uncomfortable hole in her neck. She shuddered when remembering the tube stuck in her throat.
She shook the memory from her mind and focused on the room she resided in. It was small, and the door to her right was oddly uninviting. It was a cold, dull grey, like the rest of the room. Samantha spotted the bed note sitting at the foot of her bed and pushed herself towards it on her elbows, trying to avoid stressing the IV tube, in an attempt to nudge it with her toes. Before she could reach it, the nurse pushed the door open again and was slightly startled to see Samantha in this awkward position.
The nurse’s expression of surprise quickly turned to a welcoming smile and greeted her. “Hello,” the nurse said calmly with the smile Samantha found somewhat disconcerting. “You’re awake.”
Samantha nodded, eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” she said shockingly quietly. Her own voice was unfamiliar and possessed a raspiness that she was not expecting. “What....” she paused, and checked head for signs of an injury. “What happened to me?” she questioned anxiously.
Well,” the nurse said glumly, “we… don’t exactly know for sure. What we do know is you’ve had some sort of head trauma. You’re entire system was extremely stressed when your mother brought you in.”
“So you don’t know what happened to me?” Samantha frowned sorrowfully and asked a different question. “Well how have I been sleep?” she asked.
The nurse frowned and her face grew serious. Although her tone remained calm, it was clear she was trying to keep Samantha herself calm as well. “You’ve been in a coma for the past month. Thirty-two days. But you’ve been sleeping, thanks to the sedative, for the last half of the afternoon.”
“A coma?” Samantha exclaimed, rather suddenly and fully sitting up straight at the news. “A whole month?” she exclaimed further. “Where are my parents? I’d like to see them.”
“It’s alright, calm down,” the nurse advised as she stepped away from the bed and to the wall where she pressed a button, it crackled to life and she spoke into the intercom. “Samantha Jones is awake,” she announced into it. She turned back to Samantha and asked: “Is there anything I can do to make more comfortable until your parents arrive?”
Samantha licked her dry lips. “Can I have some water?” she asked as the itchy feeling in her throat persisted annoyingly. The nurse kindly pointed past her, “It’s beside you,” she said smiling. It was then when Samantha noticed a plastic TV tray sitting to her left. She nodded appreciatively and the nurse turned to leave. Samantha reached for the glass of water sitting on the tray and rose it to her lips. Samantha raised an eyebrow when she noticed a piece of folded deteriorative paper sitting next to it. After easing her painfully dry throat with a slip of water, Samantha retrieved the note and unfolded it in her hands, then read:
“I felt eyes on me. Your eyes. So please indulge me. Think of your brother. He’s attending college in Minnesota at this time. Picture him as vividly as you can in his dorm. Imagine the passing of time and remain in the room. Stop thinking of the time going by when you start to notice something that can only be described as unexplainable.”
Samantha read the short note thorough several times to try understand what it meant. Focus on her brother’s dorm? Why? There did not seem to be a point in doing this. Samantha sighed and checked her surrounds. The hallway outside her door seemed quiet enough, she would not be disturbed.
[Disregarded the strange note.]
[Do as the note says.]
[Do as the note says.]
[Do as the note says.] We got nothing better to do...
A coma? For a month? Well. That was definitely unexpected. Poor Sam.
[Just. Do it!]
[Do as the note says.]
A timeskip was the last thing I've been expecting. Poor Samantha, but it's good that she's woken up. This strange note she got made me very curious. I'm also curious what the others have been up to during this past month, especially when it comes to the investigation.
[Do as the note says.]
[Do as the note says.]
Disreguard the strange note] no time for cryptic riddles.
[Do as the note says.]
Voting is closed
(!) Out of sheer boredom, Samantha will play along and do as the note says
The part is nearly finished. I got the continuation of Samantha's part done and about half of a Clive part finished. I'm going to be leaving for something soon, so I won't be able to get much more work done. Hopefully, it'll be finished completely sometime tonight or tomorrow!
CHAPTER THREE (Part 2)
Shattered Glass
Samantha Jones, Silicon General Hospital
Even though she rolled her eyes slightly, she considered the note thoughtfully and, out of nothing better to do until someone else arrived in the room, Samantha closed her eyes and imagined the red room her brother lived in. She had only been there once, a year ago. If it had truly been a month, she must have missed his visit home before the fall semesters began. The room she pictured was oddly detailed as well as active. Two guys, one differently her brother and another person who was likely a friend, sat at the couch with game controllers in hand. They played together for a bit until one stood up to get a drink. Time seemed to be passing at regular speed, so she tried to picture it being fast forward, but it did not seem to work at first. On the far wall, pictures and poster hung along with a clock with hands. She imagined its hands speeding up, and they did. After it had circled itself about five times, she seemed to imagine the sound of shattering glass lucidly, and the glass shattered upwards, into the room, followed by a man dressed in full black, with their face covered. Sam went with it and watched as the person removed their backpack from over their shoulder and pulled out a can of spray paint. The intruder started spraying on the wall with clock, making letters. Starting with an S, then more letters followed until the vividly red spray paint was dripping down the wall with the sentence “Strange, isn’t it, Sam?” plainly visible. She guessed she had quite the imagination.
Samantha heard the sound of the doorknob twisting and she opened her eyes to see a doctor stepping inside with her mother and father. She closed the note and set it aside. “Mom, dad,” she said with a thankful smile as they came to her side. The doctor stood several feet behind them and stepped over to the foot of the bed where he updated the bed notes with a pin while smiling as well.
“You’re awake!” her mother exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. Samantha did her best to exchange hugs with both her mother and father while the IV was still in her arm. She flashed a smile to her father and they all looked towards the doctor for an answer after Samantha asked, “When can I go home?”
The doctor pushed his glasses closer to his nose and smiled along with them. “We’ll like to run a few test before sending you home. All in all, if everything goes alright, I’d say about a week.” The doctor lowered the bed note’s board, clicked his tongue and proudly added, “Maybe less.”
Clive Carson, St. Rob Memorial
It was a grim day. Dark gray clouds blanketed the sky and it sprinkled lightly around the gravel and Clive walked in. Perhaps it was inappropriate to think, but to Clive it seemed like the perfect weather to being visiting a gravel and. Eerie and grim were the right words to describe the mood of the hilltop path he walked on. It was a damp gravel road that ran and split into four directions every thirty or so feet to provide a place to walk without stepping over many graves to get where one would need to go. Parents like himself would come to mourn the loss of a child. Lovers would come to mourn their lovers like he had done more mourning the loss of his beloved wife. Children would come to mourn the loss of their parents like his daughter would do many a time once he passed away. That is what graveyards were to Clive. Places to mourn. Places to cry without judgment. A place where, if you came alone, people mind their own business and let you cry. In Clive’s honest opinion, he preferred it.
Everywhere Clive went, he would think like this. Like everything he saw was writing on a poetic page. He saw a tree move in the wind, his inner thoughts would think of an accompanying string of words to describe it. The chilling wind made the trees sway in their gusts. Or when he sat at the bar chatting with his good friend Thomas, The two men sat laughing with one another to numb the dull, grim mood that the days out of the bar, and away from his friend, had become.
It was starting to piss Clive off a bit. Anything and everything reminded him of writing. Every action and reaction. Perhaps it was time to give into his thoughts and resume writing. He had stopped abruptly when Alexander died and had only scribbled down ideas since, only to keep them from piling up on his mind. His conscious was particularly stressed recently since Rachel had started dating. Rachel seemed happy enough with her boyfriend. It was time he stopped skirting around the two. A lot could happen in a month, it seemed. Time past, but deeply cut wounds only turned to scars. They would never fully heal, only fade with the passing months, years.
Clive silently cursed for losing his sense of direction in the field of headstones and statues. After gaining his bearings, he finally neared the grave of his son. It was a rudimentary, dampened stone with his name, and date of birth and death chiseled into it. If there was one grimmest thing about the graveyard, it was the numbers and letters that described the person buried in the ground in front of it. So easily, it could have been someone else filling this spot of ground. But no. It was his son who was killed and put to rest in this dull spot of dirt. He deserved much more than this. Half the poor bastards in this graveyard probably did. Fate was cruel like that, he supposed.
A phone began to ring inside Clive’s long coat’s pocket. He reached in and retrieved the silver-gray, cased electronic and unfolded it. Clive held it to his ear. “Hello, who is it?” he asked glumly.
“It’s Rachel,” she replied with a forcibly calm tone. “Look, I was thinking it was about time Henry, you and I share dinner. It’s…” Rachel paused momentarily to check the clock, “five-thirty right now, so me and Henry will probably done making the food by six. Can you try to get back by then?” she asked, hopefully awaiting his answer.
“Of course,” Clive sighed as he paced around the gravel path anxiously. “I’ll see you then. Give Parker my regards,” he added somewhat sarcastically. It definitely was not appreciated by Rachel, although she let it slide, Clive could hear the annoyance in her tone as she continued: “Just be there. Anyway. Bye, dad,” she finished, her voice softening considerably.
“Bye Rachel,” Clive said affectionately into the phone. The sound of the phone snapping shut entered his ear and he shoved it back into his coat’s pocket. He produced a package of cigarettes and abstracted a single one to place between his lips. After returning the package to his coat, he produced another item, this time a lighter. He lit the end of the cigarette and made a soul expression as he took a deep puff. He exhaled the smoke in a circular motion starting from his left shoulder and finishing at his right. Then he began looking back at the trail of smoke as it began to dissipate. It seemed to be distorted around his left. He could have sworn something of orb-like form hovered at eye level with him.
“Hey there,” he said as he reluctantly took another puff of the cigarette. He exhaled towards the presence of the orb-like thing to further strengthen its silhouette. “I could feel your presence. That chill unlike the wind,” he explained to the invisible thicket of air that looked like an orb. “You’re following me around, aren’t you? Well, don’t you dare try to possess me or some other shit, you strange, little thing.”
So what if a ghost was following him? It did not seem particularly interested in possessing him at the time, although he thought it well to make it abundantly clear he did not want that to happen. God knows, he could not tell Rachel about this. She would not believe him. Clive doubted anyone would believe him if he said, ‘Yeah, uh, there’s this thing following me… I think it’s a ghost.’ For kicks, he imagined himself looking over his shoulder and having an argument with its ghostly, invisible silhouette. It would sometimes catch the light, or appear in the corner of his eye, as the orb-like thing.
Clive tossed the cigarette to the graveled path and smothered it beneath his shoe. He coughed the remaining smoke out of his lungs as he continued up the path, back towards the parking lot. Clive pulled the door to his red truck open and climbed inside it. He turned the key and it started. Clive felt an unearthly chill run down his spine, goosebumps tingle across his skin, and he then shook his head, “Tisk, tisk,” he sighed as he returned the lighter and cigarette to his hand. He lit up the second cigarette and inhaled the disgusting smoke. Exhaling, the orb-like silhouette appeared vaguely there, floating over the passenger’s seat. “Well, what the fuck do you want?” Clive huffed as he coughed. He had to find an easier way to do this—without the cigarettes.
Of course, he was met by silence. “Well…” he sighed once more. Clive had a grim thought and he frowned while tapping the cigarette out the window. “I can see you. I mean… you’re right there, so I don’t think I’m crazy… but, you’re not my son, Alex, are you?” The presence seemed to be unable to answer like it always had. “Well,” Clive mumbled, “tag along if you’d like. Nothing interesting is going to happen. You might as well find someone else to spectate. Give them the willies for me.”
Clive took one last puff and dispersed the smoke in the passenger’s seat when it began to fade slightly, only to find that the silhouette of the orb had vanished. He frowned and coughed as the smoke began to sting his eyes. Clive pushed open the door and smothered the cigarette against the pavement between the road and his shoe, then finally let out a long sigh as he began driving back towards Silicon.
Am I actually going crazy? Clive asked himself in a thought that he was only vaguely aware of as he drove. Probably not. I mean… it was definitely there. It was real… It was…
Carson’s House, River Street
Clive pulled up to the curb and climbed out of his car, then approached his house. As he moved forward, he caught a peaked at the house across the street. The Page’s place was now just a cleared off cement slab with two large dumpsters waiting to be moved. Clive walked up the steps to his porch and looked at his wristwatch. It was only fifteen until six, he was glad he would not spike Rachel’s frustration with his lateness. Though he feared she might smell the smoky odor on his clothes. She was thoughtful for his health. He knew she would not like the idea of him smoking. luckily it was not an addiction, instead it was much more complex than that, that would most likely be a lot more difficult to explain.
Pulling the screen door open, Clive entered his house and the door fell shut behind him. He immediately breathed in the familiar, homely scent that filled his house, which was accompanied by a second smell. Clive guessed it was whatever Rachel and Henry had fixed for dinner. He stripped himself of his coat and hung it over the rack by the door as he continued further into the house. Clive paused briefly in front of the door to his study, somewhat sad that he would have to delay writing even longer. But he thought little of it as he walked into the living room and was happily greeted by Rachel, who hugged him gently, her nose winkling out of Clive’s view, and then she directed him towards the man leaning on the kitchen counter.
Henry’s brown hair glistened with gel to keep the natural curls down slightly. His beard was trimmed thinner and much shorter than it was last time he saw him, and he wore a comfortable, red button up, checkered-plaid, long sleeve shirt.
Clive put on a smile and shook hands with him, with Rachel’s hand resting on his shoulder as he did so. “Henry,” he said, mildly interested, “good to see you. Alive and well, I see.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had a cold in an awful long time,” Henry replied while Clive chuckled. “How’s writing?” Henry asked, unknowningly taking what Clive saw as a mocking jab towards him. When, in reality, it was genuine curiosity.
“Fine, fine,” he answered, doing his best to brush over the topic, because, in fact, he had not written anything in the long month. “How’s work?” Clive questioned with a innocent expression. This jab to him was intentional. Perhaps Clive was a little resentful towards the sheriff’s department after the case for his son's murder was shelved.
“Can’t get over the stillness of the job now,” Henry said glumly. “It’s just been ungodly slow. Now I can definitely say I don’t mind it being slow, however. Everything that… last month, just feels finished.”
“I agree,” Clive sighed. “So, there’s nothing? Now news?” Clive ashed with hopeless filling his tone.
“Nothing concrete.” Henry scratched his beard, and then added, “Well, I say that, but one of the girls who found the campsite went into a coma-like state about half an hour after leaving the scene. I got a call from Clyde saying that the girl woke up about an hour ago. We’re going to try to see if she knows anything we might have overlooked, but it’s not looking too good.”
Clive shifted his eyes to glance at Rachel slyly before bringing it up. “I heard rumors… And only rumors, that something strange happened that night. You know, when you were investigating the woods.” Clive narrowed his eyes. “Sounded awfully odd, if you asked me. But the one of those drug dealers didn’t get shot, right? I heard he’s still kicking.”
Henry scoffed. “I wouldn’t call it kicking. The guy’s a vegetable. Alive, still. But he’s apparently not showing as many good signs as Samantha Jones did. Brain activity,” Henry spun a finger around the side of his head, “and all that. Doctors doubt he’ll ever come out of the coma. And it doesn’t help that we haven’t been able to find family.” Henry sighed, adding: “Honestly, I’d like to thank him. If it wasn’t for him and the other guy, I doubt I or Kyle would have ever been seen again. Besides, I bet he knows more than we do about this whole thing.”
Henry raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What could he know?” he asked.
“That’s the thing—we don’t know.” Henry leaned in closer. “Between you and me, I doubt he could tell us much besides his reason for being there. But the bigger problem is that Alex’s--” Henry considerately paused to avoid upsetting Clive. “There’s still a supplier out there. These guys at the campsite—it wasn’t them.”
Rachel finally joined the conversation. “As much as I like it when the two of you aren’t exchanging vager blows, we have dinner all set up. It’ll be a shame to like it wait any longer. So… let’s all take a seat.” Rachel directed the two towards the table and they all took a seat.
A cold, uncanny shiver ran down Clive’s spine and he quickly began eying the dinning room up and down to see if the orb was near him. He felt it. Rachel looked at him suspiciously during this strange endeavor as her father looked around the room cautiously. “You see something?” she questioned while taking a utensil in hand.
Clive snapped back out of his daze and gave a conspicuous smile as he attempted to appear sidetracked. “No. Nothing, I’m just looking around,” he replied. “Uh…” he gestured to Henry with a fork and then to Rachel, “so how has everything? Outside of work.”
“Well,” Henry said proudly, “we’ve been going steady for the last two weeks. It’s been nice.” He flashed Rachel a happy smile, and then returned to his plate. “But, uh, it’s…” he spun some of his pasta on his fork with a disappointed frown, “it’s been a rough week. Things seem to be lightening up though.”
“What’s up?” Clive asked with genuine concern.
“My dad passed away last weekend,” he said.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Clive set his fork down and folded his hands together on top of the table. “I know when my father passed, it was... very hard, even at my age.” Clive tried to show a little heart and smiled toward Rachel. “When you get to be my age, you see everyone that meant anything to you, just keep dropping. It’s disheartening. But…” his smile towards Rachel strengthened, “you’ll find things that’ll open your right up.”
“Yeah, I know,” Henry grimly smiled. “I guess I’ve already went through that. I hate city life. Everything just moves too fast. Friends would move on and people you’d think we're by your side would just…” he shook his head reluctantly, “heartlessly vanish.”
“Same disheartening feeling, I guess,” Clive said as he sipped his drink.
“My wife left me a note,” Henry said. He noticed Rachel frown, but he continued anyway. “She left in the middle of the night, took my son, and ran off with some… asshole.”
Clive was not prepared for that. He uncrossed his hands and reached across the table and patted him on the shoulder thoughtfully. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sympathetically.
Henry flashed a thankful smile and he took a sip of his water. “I appreciate it. This whole town, really. Since I’ve come here… pretty much everything has been better. The whole entire town just emanates something hopeful. It’s a new life and one I couldn’t live without.” His somewhat grim expression fell upon Rachel and it brightened considerably.
Rachel spoke up, moving the hair from her eyes. “I’ve enjoyed living here as well.” She frowned, but took Clive’s hand to keep her face from darkening any further. “Without Alex’s here, though, it just feels a little too quiet. Too peaceful. Too… unlike home. But we can’t mourn forever, can we?”
Clive nodded in grim agreeance. “It’s true. Why be miserable when you can be happy? And seeing you happy, it definitely makes me forget. I’m glad you too are happy together.”
For the first time in a very long time, he saw eye to eye with his daughter, and with Henry. It was like they were a family again. He almost hoped Rachel and Henry stayed together for a very long time, just so this feeling would stay. He raised his glass of water and smiled. “A toast,” Clive began, “A toast to…”
[New Beginnings.]
[Family.]
[Love.]
[Family]
I really don't like Clive.
[New Beginnings.]
Any particular reasons?
He's so damn whiny! XD.
Whininess is definitely a product of almost every one of his character traits lol. He's got an arrogant personality and a head in the clouds. :P
[Family.]
[La Familia]
Great part as always. And now it seems that Clive is seeing stuff.
[Family.]
Rachel surprised me in this part. While I am pretty sure that at least most of her seeming balance is not entirely genuine and only something she puts up for her father's sake, she is undoubtly far less stressed-out than she has been the last time we saw her. I highly doubt she is truly moving on though. I'm also surprised that she is already starting to date someone again, considering how horribly her last relationship ended. Henry is a nice guy though and maybe he can make her happy. I hope he is more to her than just a coping mechanism and I really hope he can deal with her flaws. However, at the moment it appears to me that he is at least a bit of a coping mechanism for her, as I don't buy any of her 'moving on'-talk. I wonder if Henry knows the details about Rachel's last relationship and if he knows about her worrying medication habit. And I also wonder if Rachel herself is still hellbent on finding her brothers killer. As I said, I highly doubt that she truly moved on already.
[Family.]
[Familru]
[Family.]
Voting is closed
(!) Clive will make a toast to family
I've been busy with another story for the time being and have once again neglected this story for too long. I haven't taken the time to continue where I left off and will try to return to this soon. I've been conflicted on which direction I want to take the story, which is in part to blame for the long wait. Anyway, I have been devoting most of my time to building a Halloween costume and that's been eating my time up, but I'm making good progress on it! If it's worth sharing, I just might post a picture of it
Finally, I should say I'll be taking a look at what I have planned for Silicon. I'll try to get a part out soon enough.
Update:
As some might have noticed, I have updated the main post's table of contents and will confirm here as well that there will be a second act. Titles for the chapters are pending and might not be revealed until the end of the first act. So, to reiterate, I've been planning ahead and writing the new part. Part 3 of chapter 3 is coming soon.
I can't wait! I love this story!
CHAPTER THREE (Part 3)
Shattered Glass
Clive Carson—The Carsons’ House—River Street
“A toast to family,” Clive finally said as he raised his glass.
“To family,” Rachel agreed.
“Family,” Henry concluded softly, reluctantly participating.
The three clinked their glasses together and Clive slowly slipped back into his seat as he drank some of the glass’s contents. “It’s a shame,” Clive murmured into his glass. “Lots of people I… we all wish were still around.”
Henry narrowed his eyes slightly, becoming a little suspicious of Clive’s hospitality—his friendliness was often something reserved for people not like himself. Clive even admitted to have a grudge against the sheriff’s office for hitting a dead end in Alexander’s murder. Despite this, Henry raised his eyebrows regretfully and nodded before he leaned back in his chair as well. He would not let simple suspicion get in the way of a peaceful dinner, though he was preparing to resign himself from the table and house alike.
“You know, Henry, I’m curious about what this girl might know. Do you think Samantha is holding onto something?” Clive questioned as he swished the liquid around its glass. “I can’t think of anything she might know.”
“Well,” Henry said, vaguely shrugging, “we don’t have any idea either. It could be many number of things. We aren’t expecting anything groundbreaking, though.”
Rachel sipped her drink with a laidback demeanor, but in her eyes, she seemed stressed about something. Clive could see it. He assumed Henry could as well. The sudden silence took a grip on Rachel and she sat forward to speak up. “Samantha Jones’s condition was stange. She went into a coma-like state after experiencing a sudden, splitting headache. It’s mysterious and hasn’t been explained by any of the doctors.” She tapped her fingers on the table decisively. “She could have taken something—”
Henry shot her a disappointed look and shook his head, interrupting her. “They didn’t find any drugs in her system. Probably isn’t even related to… the drug dealers or Alexander’s murder.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Rachel said. “It’s got to be connected. All of it. Luke Page’s disappearance and Alex’s murder have to be. Maybe Samantha’s spontaneous coma is connected, too. It has to be a part of this.”
Clive looked between the two and sensed a disagreement that his daughter and Henry shared. “Is there something I should know?” he asked, keeping the worry from his voice and replacing it with an oblivious tone.
Henry took a deep breath and sat his drink on the table. Folding his arms on it, he looked between the two then at his hand. “Everything happened rather…” he paused, flashing a sad, speculative expression at Clive, “sudden. Page’s disappearance, Alex’s murder, Samantha going into a coma; they all happened in such a short period of time… so… it might not all be pure coincidence. I’m not so sure. But nothing of that magnitude has happened in Silicon since Mr. Callahan killed his wife and then himself, and that was at least a year ago.”
Clive narrowed his eyes. “Callahan?”
He received a grim nod from Henry. “It was awful. Nothing could have been done, sadly, we found the aftermath.” Henry let the silence sink in for a second before continuing. “Did you know them?”
Clive quickly shook his head, taking a sip of his drink to settle his mild nausea. “No. I know their son, Thomas.” Clive looked past Henry while taking another sip from his glass. At the far end of the room, Clive saw what could only be described as thick air that had shape. It looked vaguely human and was simple watching them have a late dinner. Clive wanted to point it out to his daughter, to see if she could see the silhouette, but he felt compelled to keep Rachel and Henry’s attention away from it. Whatever it was, it was definitely following him.
Something else started to numb Clive’s perception of the room. It blurred creepily and the faces of Henry and Rachel looked at him with confusion. Rachel immediately tried to say something, but her words didn’t register with the old writer. Things seemed to worsen, and Clive’s impaired vision made the room rock like a ship at sea. As he began to fall from his seat, Rachel reached for him with a terrified expression; he was unconscious before he could hit the hardwood floor.
Clive slowly opened his eyes and was greeted by the textured ceiling. The room was hazy and it was difficult to follow a straight line of thought. Although, once he realized he was on the floor, he rolled over and started pushing himself with mild challenge. Hurried footsteps sounded from the living room and Rachel stepped through threshold that connected it to the dining room. Clive gave her a pained expression as she rushed to his side. His head was ringing slightly.
“Dad!” Rachel exclaimed. She rushed towards him with a telephone in her hand. Rachel escorted him to his feet and helped him into a chair. “Are you alright? You collapsed!”
“I-- I, uh… I’m...” Clive blinked twice to clear his vision and he scanned the room briefly, he saw that the front door was wide open. “I’m alright,” he completed his sentence quickly to calm his daughter. “There… There’s something I should have told you. It’s strange,” he surveyed the room again only to find the dense air hovering near the other side of the room, “it might come as shock…”
“Why?” Rachel narrowed her worried eyes and her mouth fell open slightly. “Your health… is it…”
Henry interrupted her with his entry from the front door. “I got Kyle on the radio and--” He saw Clive setting in the chair and quickly hurried to his side. “ Clive! How are you feeling?”
Clive let the room fall silent as he considered that. He set almost motionlessly in the chair as he tried to figure out if he was hurting. It began clear quickly that he was fine. “It was only momentarily,” he finally answered. “I’m… okay now. I’m all better. I just need… maybe a glass of water...”
“So you just collapsed and now you’re all better?” Rachel reiterated with a worried protectiveness in her tone. “We’re taking you to the hospital, dad. You had a fucking heart attack last year!”
“And because of that I know what it feels like to be having a heart attack!” he snapped back in a moment of ill-considered frustration. He realized he upset Rachel with his comment and lowered his voice to a calm whisper. “I seriously don’t think this was a heart attack.”
“Fine. If it wasn’t your heart,” Rachel considered, “what was it?”
He opened his mouth to speak and his gaze settled on the transparent silhouette. Clive lowered his voice even more and it came out as a feeble whimper. “I don’t think I took meditation.” He nodded, agreeing with himself. “Yes, I think that’s it.”
Henry looked between him and Rachel. “Should I call off the ‘backup’?”
Rachel nodded glumly and followed him into the living room. “I think it’s best if we call it night,” she said. “I’m sorry it was cut off short.”
“Probably for the best,” Henry replied, sighing disappointedly. “If sure, I’ll see you soon.” He and Rachel exchanged a half-hug and he left through the front door.
Rachel turned on her heel and stopped in her tracks just feet from the door. A cold shiver ran the length of her spine. She quickly walked it off and retrieved Clive’s medicine before returning to his side. She presented the small orange bottle and Clive reluctantly took it. Clive wasn’t that forgetful, he’d taken his medication and was just grasping for a viable answer to give to his daughter. He had no intention of seeing the inside of a hospital while a mysterious spectre was in his very living room, it could be the thing that made him light headed. But a problem did arise from his lie: he was now expected to take his heart medicine, which he had already taken. Hiding the pill under his tongue would probably do the trick, but with Henry gone, he could always reveal what he’d been seeing to his daughter.
[Come clean and reveal the strange presence to Rachel.]
[Hid the pill under your tongue to keep things secret.]