Re: MORITURI TE SALUTANT!! [S!4]
03-27-2012, 09:06 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.
Carlie meandered through the numerous rooms and corridors of Shrewdish Manor, all the while making sure to broadcast her constant narration of the situation like a psychopath. “...So I assume this big ol’ house is a trial, maybe? Is this a thing where I have to ‘discover my true self’? Because if it is, you could have at least made it a little more straightforward, BRAIN!” The mansion’s winding corridors seemed to stretch out indefinitely, and through either dumb luck or some cruel joke, Carlie seemed to miss just about everyone in this ancient husk of a building.
A feeling of overwhelming dread slowly built up in Carlie’s stomach. The tension of the whole situation was getting out of hand, at this rate, she would have been happy to meet up with some psycho-dream monster and have it eat her right now. Anything but this painful crawl to what Carlie assumed was the inevitable. Her wild theorising of the situation helped relieve the stress and helped keep the circumstances grounded in reality, even if it was purely based on Carlie’s own TV-fuelled bullshit logic.
“Alright...what happened before this? Creepy death lady with the bird, that’s - err, probably what my subconscious thinks death looks like I guess. Kinda expecting the Grim Reaper but ok I can run with this. “She made an abrupt turn into another corridor. She didn’t care where she was going as long as she was moving and talking and not thinking about her imminent demise. “Three guys, two gals, a serpent and an urn. Okay, well, one of them is me; the others are probably...manifestations of my greatest failures?” Carlie tried to think back to think of her ‘greatest failures.’ Honestly there wasn’t really much to justify a symbolic trial within the mind.
It had been four months since Carlie witnessed her friend’s brutal death and subsequent resurrection. All the while she had convinced Jess and herself that it never happened - I mean, how could it? Last time Carlie checked, it was pretty impossible to bring people back from the dead, not with magic flame hands at least. Deep down though, she knew it really did happen; it couldn’t have been some drunken dream, it felt so real. Carlie never got the chance to further investigate her power, which wasn’t surprising, considering you don’t tend to run across corpses when you’re a twenty-something layabout. But sometimes, when she saw a dead insect or plant or anything, she could feel a tiny spark run down her fingers.
Of course, it wasn’t like any of that mattered now. She was about to become a victim of some delayed-reaction drug poisoning crap, she assumed; no doubt she was drowning in her own saliva right about now.
Carlie took another sharp turn, plunging herself into darkness, she froze in her tracks, finally stopping her monologue to try and see where the hell she was going. A thin, weak light shone through a distant window, slowly pulsing as clouds flew in front of the moon. An inhuman clamour crept down the black corridor. A bleak fusion of echoing shrieks and scraping metal drifting closer and closer. “I’m dead. This is it. I’m dead.” Carlie closed her eyes and braced for her doom as the noise got louder and louder and then...nothing. Calrie reluctantly opened an eye to check if she was still alive. Intricate, iron torches lining the walls burst into flames without warning, leading up to a single wooden door at the end of the corridor. A door which opened by itself with a guttural creek.
“Oh HELL no.” Carlie’s fear had quickly transformed into anger. “I’ve seen this movie a thousand god-damn times! That is certain death and you KNOW it! I’m not an idiot, brain!” Carlie stomped towards one of the lit torches and ripped it off its handle. “In fact, fuck you! I’m not playing by your shitty, horror cliché rules, house!” Carlie headed towards the single window and swung the metal torch as hard as she could, shattering the ancient window into a thousand pieces. “BOOM! Yeah! Didn’t expect that did you!? Levenson: One, Cunting subconscious nightmare ghost house: ZEEEROO!”
Carlie clumsily climbed out of the window and onto the soaking wet grass outside. The winds were ferocious, sending Carlie’s already unkempt hair all over the place, not that she cared; she was too preoccupied revelling in her ‘victory.’ She hugged the wall of the manor, making her way around the humongous structure. “Now all I got to do is wait out this stupid fever dream until someone calls for an ambulance and wakes me uaaaAGHGHGH!” Carlie couldn’t help but scream at the sight of a severely burnt corpse hanging out of a back doorway. Carlie crept up to the smouldering husk of a man and peered over him. “Well shit. There's something in there that can torch people to death. Brilliant. Ah well, as long as it isn’t m-”
Carlie’s gaze drifted towards her hands. Ashen flames danced around her fingertips, the edges dissipating into a kaleidoscope of colours. Her eyes widened in fear, “Oh no, no, no please not now, please not now, please not n-“But it was far too late. Light exploded through her hands straight to the blackened cadaver. An alien sound erupted through the air, overpowering the storm’s resonance and echoing through the ancient manor. Shining light danced around the burnt man, quickly erasing all the damage made to the poor idiot, until finally, he bolted up with a sharp, desperate breath.
The man slowly turned to the girl, eyes widened in complete disbelief. Carlie returned the exact same look.
“Umm...hi.”
Carlie meandered through the numerous rooms and corridors of Shrewdish Manor, all the while making sure to broadcast her constant narration of the situation like a psychopath. “...So I assume this big ol’ house is a trial, maybe? Is this a thing where I have to ‘discover my true self’? Because if it is, you could have at least made it a little more straightforward, BRAIN!” The mansion’s winding corridors seemed to stretch out indefinitely, and through either dumb luck or some cruel joke, Carlie seemed to miss just about everyone in this ancient husk of a building.
A feeling of overwhelming dread slowly built up in Carlie’s stomach. The tension of the whole situation was getting out of hand, at this rate, she would have been happy to meet up with some psycho-dream monster and have it eat her right now. Anything but this painful crawl to what Carlie assumed was the inevitable. Her wild theorising of the situation helped relieve the stress and helped keep the circumstances grounded in reality, even if it was purely based on Carlie’s own TV-fuelled bullshit logic.
“Alright...what happened before this? Creepy death lady with the bird, that’s - err, probably what my subconscious thinks death looks like I guess. Kinda expecting the Grim Reaper but ok I can run with this. “She made an abrupt turn into another corridor. She didn’t care where she was going as long as she was moving and talking and not thinking about her imminent demise. “Three guys, two gals, a serpent and an urn. Okay, well, one of them is me; the others are probably...manifestations of my greatest failures?” Carlie tried to think back to think of her ‘greatest failures.’ Honestly there wasn’t really much to justify a symbolic trial within the mind.
It had been four months since Carlie witnessed her friend’s brutal death and subsequent resurrection. All the while she had convinced Jess and herself that it never happened - I mean, how could it? Last time Carlie checked, it was pretty impossible to bring people back from the dead, not with magic flame hands at least. Deep down though, she knew it really did happen; it couldn’t have been some drunken dream, it felt so real. Carlie never got the chance to further investigate her power, which wasn’t surprising, considering you don’t tend to run across corpses when you’re a twenty-something layabout. But sometimes, when she saw a dead insect or plant or anything, she could feel a tiny spark run down her fingers.
Of course, it wasn’t like any of that mattered now. She was about to become a victim of some delayed-reaction drug poisoning crap, she assumed; no doubt she was drowning in her own saliva right about now.
Carlie took another sharp turn, plunging herself into darkness, she froze in her tracks, finally stopping her monologue to try and see where the hell she was going. A thin, weak light shone through a distant window, slowly pulsing as clouds flew in front of the moon. An inhuman clamour crept down the black corridor. A bleak fusion of echoing shrieks and scraping metal drifting closer and closer. “I’m dead. This is it. I’m dead.” Carlie closed her eyes and braced for her doom as the noise got louder and louder and then...nothing. Calrie reluctantly opened an eye to check if she was still alive. Intricate, iron torches lining the walls burst into flames without warning, leading up to a single wooden door at the end of the corridor. A door which opened by itself with a guttural creek.
“Oh HELL no.” Carlie’s fear had quickly transformed into anger. “I’ve seen this movie a thousand god-damn times! That is certain death and you KNOW it! I’m not an idiot, brain!” Carlie stomped towards one of the lit torches and ripped it off its handle. “In fact, fuck you! I’m not playing by your shitty, horror cliché rules, house!” Carlie headed towards the single window and swung the metal torch as hard as she could, shattering the ancient window into a thousand pieces. “BOOM! Yeah! Didn’t expect that did you!? Levenson: One, Cunting subconscious nightmare ghost house: ZEEEROO!”
Carlie clumsily climbed out of the window and onto the soaking wet grass outside. The winds were ferocious, sending Carlie’s already unkempt hair all over the place, not that she cared; she was too preoccupied revelling in her ‘victory.’ She hugged the wall of the manor, making her way around the humongous structure. “Now all I got to do is wait out this stupid fever dream until someone calls for an ambulance and wakes me uaaaAGHGHGH!” Carlie couldn’t help but scream at the sight of a severely burnt corpse hanging out of a back doorway. Carlie crept up to the smouldering husk of a man and peered over him. “Well shit. There's something in there that can torch people to death. Brilliant. Ah well, as long as it isn’t m-”
Carlie’s gaze drifted towards her hands. Ashen flames danced around her fingertips, the edges dissipating into a kaleidoscope of colours. Her eyes widened in fear, “Oh no, no, no please not now, please not now, please not n-“But it was far too late. Light exploded through her hands straight to the blackened cadaver. An alien sound erupted through the air, overpowering the storm’s resonance and echoing through the ancient manor. Shining light danced around the burnt man, quickly erasing all the damage made to the poor idiot, until finally, he bolted up with a sharp, desperate breath.
The man slowly turned to the girl, eyes widened in complete disbelief. Carlie returned the exact same look.
“Umm...hi.”