Origin Story?_Miscom-mew-nication_Night Terrors_Fuse
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Origin Story?
The first time I died, obviously I didn’t expect to wake up from it. The car came rushing at me too fast, a blur of screeching sound and cobalt blue metal. I just stood there in the middle of the street, headphones half hanging from my ears, staring death in the face like an idiot. Moving didn’t even occur to me. I don’t remember the impact. No pain either. One second I was crossing the street and the next, nothing. Nothing but darkness, like going to sleep. Like a dream I couldn’t quite recall. And then I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the bindingly bright fluorescent light overhea...
Miscom-mew-nication
Great, just great. A mere misunderstanding, and now I was here of all places.“You say Artemis isn’t settling in well?” Strong hands gripped me, stopping my bid for escape off of the table. I wriggled and hissed, letting both people present know in no uncertain terms what I thought of this entire farce. “Easy there, poppet, nobody’s going to hurt you.”Poppet? I flattened my ears. How dare that strange-smelling lady call such a majestic being as myself by a name so demeaning? And nobody was going to hurt me? Like I hadn’t heard that one before. This room, with its odd equipment and acrid stench,...
Night Terrors
April 1God. God, oh God. I don't think I will forget, ever. Right now, it is 12:23 in the morning. And I am awake! What the heck, I'm so tired I can barely move. But I can't sleep! For the past two nights, I have been having terrible dreams. Oh, god! Never in my life have ever experienced such terrifying things. I didn't write about my dream yesterday because I thought it was nothing. But now? I am so tired, but I can't close my eyes. Every time my eyes feel as though they can stay open no longer, the ghastly images flood back into my vision! How terrible they are! My dream tonight was the sam...
Fuse
It was the guinea pig that gave it away.When Emil was twelve the family still lived in the dingy apartment down the street from the canning factory. They lived with his grandmother, who seemed to have stayed in her rocking chair for so long that she had fused into it. She did little but knit, the whole day through, her eyes glued to old recordings of operas and ballet performances that played about on their little TV set. (The camerawork was so shaky that he decided they must have been recordedwww.onedoor.cc illicitly. He imagined his grandmother as a young woman, sneaking a bulky camera into some dimly-lit...