In this topic I will write... Sin.

[Jamos]

Sin

Chapter 1: Purgatory

Cruelty is wrought upon those that wish for time to halt. I lie there staring at the small cracks in the ceiling with hope that this mundane task will at least delay the coming day. Alas, hope is in short supply nowadays. The sunlight invades my home and rapes my eyes without warning. Not that it mattered for I arose hours before. Just two more days until I'm surrounded by familiar yet hostile faces. Always prodding into a past that should have long been forgotten. Not with words, but with accusing eyes. Family ties can indeed be a hindrance to one wishing to look away. Especially when the preferred method is with a bottle. The past few years the family has been keeping a close eye on my refrigerator, clearly they caught wind of my preholiday ritual. Constantly nagging me about how this is no way to cope and other asinine bull****. I've seen enough therapists with their heads shoved up their respected asses. I want to bury the memories and not deal with some after school special. Simply can't stand listening to someone while that inconveniently placed family photo is looking right at me. Turns out that everyone in that picture is still part of their life. Husbands, wives, daughters, and sons living happily along side them. So I have decided to turn my back on them. For reasons I may never know, humanity has yet to shun my existence in return. All I get is pity from the people that should despise me. After all, I failed to do that which a father must.

Sometimes I just drift into the hellish void of my own mind. Wondering about that tragedy from long ago. The world has since forgotten about these events. Of course to ones left untainted by it all, it has become no more than text and ink. Just to be glanced over then quickly slip from one's grasp. A luxury the victims are unable to partake in. How does a person escape from what they see in the mirror? Or find the child who's reflection was always in it? All I had back then was my daughter, Maria, and that was enough. Unfortunately, those good times ended abruptly with a blaze.

Everything that leads up to that fateful day is nothing more than a blur. What I remember is the screaming of those caught in the flames, as they struggle in attempt to escape from their inevitable demise. People grabbing for loved ones only to be caught in the burning rubble themselves. My fate, however, barely differed. Despite the falling debris and the chaos around me, I fought through these flames. Only concern I had was the safety of my daughter. She is the soul that I cannot live without. Reaching out to my child I felt the smoldering wood crash upon my head. My consciousness was lost for but a moment, sadly a moment was all it took. When I came to, the area was engulfed and my little girl lost. Unable to live with this outcome I just await my death. My face began to burn courtesy of the damned kindling that prevented me from rescuing my daughter. I accept my fate just as an interloper pulled me from the wreckage. Protest as I hope to, my body was incapable of granting my wishes. All I could do was watch as this dreary night was lit up by the burning church.

The chilly floor quickly snapped me out of my zombie like state as I climb out of bed. Nice to see that the heater is not working first thing in the morning. As I walk down the hall I hear some sort of clicking noise from the attic. Out of curiosity I decide to investigate the area. More likely than not, just some small animal trying to escape the harsh conditions. No matter where I looked I couldn't find a trace of the little guy. I simply shrug it off and go back down stairs. Around time for the newspaper to be delivered so I make my way for the front door. Of course the paper is late once again and instead of grabbing it I grab the attention of my neighbor. He is a short and husky old man that lost his natural hair color some time ago. Probably bored the color away with his pointlessly long stories. The old man smiles, waves, then we go about the generic morning greeting. He asks me, for about the tenth time, if I will be putting up some lights this year. Been thirteen years since I last did, so I'm thinking no. Not like he was unaware of that fact. The guy just loves to rub in my face the fact that he consistently had the best lights in the neighborhood for the past seven years. Despite the joyful expression on his face, he felt nothing more than distain for me. Several years back I accidentally killed his dog while backing out of the driveway. Ever since, he constantly throws passive aggressive insults and backhanded compliments my way. Luckily the news is on television this time of day, giving me an excuse to cut this conversation short. I make for my escape without looking back.

Almost funny how the news is usually a rerun. While it is not technically the same episode, the sky is always falling. This time, however, there was a bit that caught my attention. The Blackview Carver was taken down in a fire fight with the police. Everybody in town must be jumping with joy over this great news. That sick bastard killed twenty people with a hunting knife then carved strange symbols into their bodies. Nobody knows what any of the symbols mean, apparently. Seems fairly obvious to me that he was some nutjob doing what nutjobs do best. Why does there always have to be some meaning behind the nonsense the crazies do? Mr. Carver was indeed a lunatic... one that survived being blasted full of holes. Guess the murderer is in critical condition and is currently being treated. Most people in Blackview would have preferred to hear him be D.O.A. Of no regard now for he will die one way or the other. Sounds like a good enough reason to celebrate to me. I glance over at the clock to notice that the time was only eight in the morning. Letting out a deep sigh, I decide to wait a little while before clearing out the fridge.

By the time the afternoon came around my restraint was nil. I hastefully pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began my decent. The cold liquid brought about pure bliss as it slid down my throat. There is nothing quite like the first drink, which is likely why several follow in attempt to recapture the experience. Through the bottle the world is a pleasant place for a time. Unfortunately, once the sands run out so does the joy I once had. Scattered memories of a life I had years past then fills my glass. Wandering in comes Maria holding up a potato that she claimed to be a project from school. Couldn't stop myself from laughing at something so silly. In response she made off for her room in a huff with tears in her eyes. Try as I must I could not get her to leave her room. Seeing that I stood little chance reasoning with a girl so young, I turned to my wife to calm her. Unlike myself, Teresa was a master in the art of negotiation. Maria finally was willing to exit her room once her mother got involved. Took nearly a week for her to talk to me again, though. Turns out the little project was actually suppose to be a little clay figurine of myself and not a potato. Why must such absurd memories pop into my head? They come fast and are lost just as quickly. Without me knowing, I apparently drank the day away. The sun was no longer high in the sky nor anywhere in sight. I decide to turn in early this day. Booze was all gone thus leaving me little choice. Comfort shall come from night's warm embrace, fading away the worries of the day.

Alas, the night was mercilessly cold. Winter was mocking me with a bitterness that only a woman can bestow. Earlier I must have forgotten to fix the heater, leaving me with this current situation. If that was not enough, there was vermin in my attic making its wonderful music yet again. Guess it would be rude for me not to welcome him to my humble abode. So I decide to flop out of bed in a classy fashion. After all, the effects of the booze have yet to wear off. The dimly lit hallway sways with each passing step, creating an uncomfortable venture for such a short watch. Stairs to the attic lie just beyond this hall yet the passage grew to hinder my resolve. No matter how hard I pressed forward my destination always seemed out of reach. Waiting for my footing to improve would indeed be the logical solution. Too bad logic isn't exactly my forte at the moment. Leading to falling and flopping around like a fish a common occurrence. Continuing on for what feels an eternity, I finally reach the stairs. There was plenty of trouble getting to this point and the journey up them would be perilous.

Blind fury was all that I required to make my way up to the attic. Despite falling down the steps a few times, the task was simple. I try to ignore my throbbing head and prepare to pummel the furry creature into submission. I walk through the darkness with no source of light to guide me. As one could assume, stumbling was soon followed by panicking. During this panic a sharp pain brings me to my knees and a warm viscous fluid seeps through my stomach clutched fingers. What perfect timing for the effects of my whiskey to ease. Once again the clicking sound is made, but this time it is right next to me. Defensively, I swing wildly in the direction of that annoying noise. My fist smashes into what can only be described as a lukewarm, rubbery surface. Not a moment later I am forced down by this frightfully strong creature. Something I thought was no more than a rodent turned out to be a behemoth. This godforsaken beast has some sort of malicious air about it which quickly reacquainted me with the sensation of fear. Futile as it may be, I try to crawl away from this monstrosity. Fate is obviously not on my side today because my actions are quickly halted by another jab to the stomach. As much as I try to push myself, the blood loss has taken its toll. I grew increasingly dizzy with each passing second. Killed by an animal in the attic of my own how. God indeed has a sense of humor. Time to brace myself for I know what comes next.

What is it you desire?
Punishment or redemption?
Perhaps the fog lifted from the truth.
Come forth, man shrouded in darkness.
I shall grant you that which you have been deprived.

My head starts to throb as if these words were forced into my skull. I know not what these words mean yet the voice itself sounds familiar. Summoned without my calling came images of my daughter at ridiculously high speeds. Just as the images cease I felt the warmth return to my body, along with my strength. Across the room I could not help noticing a strange light. Almost on instinct my body pulled itself closer towards that alluring sight. However, this glow allowed me to see what I wished not to. The abomination that craved my demise was clearly visible. This repulsive creature was almost the size of a full grown bear and his body texture reminds me of a cockroach. A large portion of its body had a massive girth similar to that of a female black widow. His head looked like a rather long, fleshy beak with no eyes in the sockets. From the sight of things, it is safe to say I am not the first victim. Several bladed weapons remain stuck in its flesh. Looking at him not only brought shivers down my spine, but gave me the urge to purge. Much to my dismay, he was still on the attack, jabbing at me with his knife-like feet. Crawling across the room was all I could physically manage which made dodging a difficult endeavor. Pain radiates throughout my right leg, forcing me to scream. The instant his sharpened hoof pulled out, I continued with increased vigor. Dragging my useless leg with me, I manage to make my way to the light source. My arm reaches out for it just as something is thrusted through my back. I stare in disbelief at the blade rupturing out of my chest. Once again, I feel myself at death's door and I could not help feeling disappointed. Finally thought something was going to go my way then all hope is quickly lost. Just barely able to lift my head, I notice a small boy right in front of me. While I begin to fade away, a slight smile appears on his face.

[Jamos]

Re: In this topic I will write...

Ran into a bit of a hiccup. The monitor kicked it. Yup. However, I will try my best to get it here by the time I said I would. Know you don't care, but I'm telling you anyway.

[Big Rick Cook]

Re: In this topic I will write...

Excuuuuuuses.

[Armored]

Re: In this topic I will write...

.

(Will reply later, its really really late right now)

[Jamos]

Re: In this topic I will write... Sin.

Edited my first post with the story. Few of you guys may remember when I was trying to make the game I called Sin. Well, here we are several years later and I guess it will be in written form. I will be doing this in installments, clearly. Any help or suggestions would be nice. I said before in another thread that it has been years since I've written anything so keep that in mind. Be gentle with me now.

[Big Rick Cook]

Re: In this topic I will write... Sin.

Dem's a lotta writin's.

I'm currently in South Dakota on a whirlwind business trip and won't have much off-time again until like Sunday, so it might be a few days before I get to it in full.

What I can say is that the little bit I skimmed has a lot of very noticeable errors in word usage and spelling, and the grammar's a bit off.

Given that you said this is very off-the-cuff writing without much editing or rewrites I can forgive it, but it's very difficult to read as it is. Also externalizing the difficult emotional concepts of regret, loss, grief, self-hate is very difficult to do without just coming right out and saying it, and it usually sounds emo/disingenuine when a guy goes on and on about how things could have gone and how they might be different if he'd just saved her, etc. etc.

Don't let this preliminary hit you wrong, I'm not trying to bash the writing, just my first thoughts on the first couple paragraphs as I skimmed through it. Keep on working at it, and you'll be amazed at how drastic you improve over a short period of time if you just keep doing it instead of letting yourself get disheartened and quit.

[Jamos]

Re: In this topic I will write... Sin.

I probably would have slapped you around a bit if you showered me with praise. I'm rusty as hell, after all, and I got the reaction I was expecting. I figure I have to learn the stuff all over again. Without anybody to point out what I'm doing wrong it would be difficult for me to figure it out myself.

Also externalizing the difficult emotional concepts of regret, loss, grief, self-hate is very difficult to do without just coming right out and saying it, and it usually sounds emo/disingenuine when a guy goes on and on about how things could have gone and how they might be different if he'd just saved her, etc. etc.

This is something that bothered me while writing, but I just couldn't find a good way around it. Though, this is the only part of the story where he goes on about it. I wished to go about a way that would explain the tragedy without some forced explanation. This part takes place while the protagonist's mind is wondering and it just happens to go to it. Another way, I thought to go about it was to have the reader not know about any of that to begin with. Only having it slip out piece by piece. I could not decide which route to go, so for the sake of progress I actually flipped a coin for that decision. I know, shameful.

[Jamos]

Re: In this topic I will write... Sin.

I've been kind of lazy this month. I would like to thank the Playstation Network for that. I'll try to get something in here in a couple weeks. When I finish this first chapter, I'll look through it to fix the mistakes.

[Jamos]

Re: In this topic I will write... Sin.

What do you mean I haven't updated this yet? Now that is just ludicrous. Here I speak more words.
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Sunlight presses through my attic window and finds itself resting on my face. Opening my eyes was quite a shock because I had expected them to remain closed. As I slowly make it to my feet, I look all around me. Luckily no monsters appeared to be there so that is one thing I can scratch off the list. Next I check for wounds, however not even a tear on my shirt could be found. The only issue I noticed was that my pants are a little ripe. Before I do anything about that I need to search the house just in case. May all be a dream, but after such a vivid one I wasn't going to take any chances. When my rounds were over I could tell that there were definitely no beasties here. The sense of dread was replaced with that of relief so I decide to cleanse myself of last night. I grab a change of clothes and make my way to the bathroom with great haste. Couldn't stand to have the rank clothing on my body a moment more so I immediately toss them into the washer. While my clothing wash, I step into a very welcoming shower to give my body the same treatment. Hot water pours down upon me attempting to soothe my tense muscles. Even still, the dream from before made me uneasy. As if expecting another attack while in this vulnerable state. Silly for me to be afraid of a figment of my imagination like some child. This fear even reflected by how hard I was scrubbing my body. As I look down at my now pink chest, I notice something black in the area. On further inspection it was a sort of strange, chain tattoo in the form of an infinity symbol. Either I was more drunk than I thought or my attacker was a tattoo artist. I clearly need to stop buying the cheap stuff. After the shower was over, I grab the nearest towel and proceed to dry myself off. While doing so, I could not help, but notice something strange on the fogged up mirror. "Huffield" is written on it, thus causing a bit of stress. Naturally, I begin to worry that someone snuck into my house. However, the bathroom was securely locked and there was nowhere to hide in this room. Even if someone was able to get in here they would not be able to stop the door from creaking. I shake my head and try to erase any thought of such irrational rubbish. My imagination just keeps getting the better of me. Without a moments hesitation I clear off the mirror to take a good look at myself. Of course, there would have to be another surprise looking me in the face. My eyes are simply brown, yet the eyes looking back at me are a shade of blue. I rub them and look again to see no difference. This seems like a good enough time as any to freak out. So "freak out" is exactly what I did. I collapse to the ground, not knowing what else to do. What is happening to me?

So many questions unanswered.
If action is not taken soon, they will fade away.
I offer my eyes, if you so desire.
Only truth can be seen through them.

The second time the same voice has entered my head and, like the last time, a head ache came with it. Hallucinations and voices, huh? I'm no head doctor, but it sounds like schizophrenia to me. Well, this will definitely liven up my days. I should look into this problem before I become completely unstable. Now the words were running through my mind only bringing about more anxiety. I was fixing to have a nervous breakdown, when I felt a strange warmth on my shoulder. Unlike the voice, it made me feel at ease. The tension in my nerves ceased and I returned to my senses. I take a couple of deep breathes then make it back to a vertical base. My thoughts became clear, however, I could not grasp what it is that just happened. As I finish drying myself off, the phone rings in the living room. There is no answering machine so I hastefully dart to the phone. When I pick it up I hear some terrible news. There was an accident and my mother in law, Aven, was taken to the hospital. Some jerk ran a red light and plowed right through her car. The driver just kept on going like nothing happened. Almost funny how something as common as a hit and run can bring about such anger when it happens to some one you know. The second I let go of the phone, I rush back to the bathroom and slap on a change of clothes. Everything else had to wait. I knew not what her condition was, but I am sure as hell going to make sure she is all right. Once changed, I grab my winter coat and made my way to the car.

The news last night said that there would be fog this morning, but I didn't see so much as a cloud. Making the drive go quite smooth. Part of me hoped that my drive would be slower than usual. I generally try to avoid hospitals, with all the diseases floating about in there. Even when in the building I refuse to take off my gloves. Several years back I got a rather nasty virus while visiting a friend there. After that, my visitor status turned into patient. I was stuck in that hell hole for two weeks, so if it wasn't for the fact that Aven had such a nasty accident I wouldn't even head there. We became rather close after Teresa died. She wanted to hold onto her last remaining connection to her daughter. Both of us had that in common. Besides, I knew that I couldn't take care of Maria by myself so I was more than willing to accept her aid. She was a nanny and a mid-wife for years, so she had her share of experiences with children. In all honesty, when it came to dealing with little ones I was inept. Teresa did the brunt of the disciplining when she was still around. Anytime I tried to punish Maria I was either told I was being too soft or that the punishment didn't meet the crime. That was frustrating to say the least. Aven was the one who swooped in and showed me the ropes. I will always be grateful to her for all she has done. Sadly, I haven't been able to come by to visit her much in these past few years. The main reason for this is her tool of a husband. Rico was never particularly fond of me so he sure made me know it. His distrust of me increased with the loss of Teresa and Maria. He blamed me for it all. I, of course, deserved the blame. My wife took her own life after finding out about my infidelity. The little girl he spent so much time securing a future for was no longer here to enjoy it. As cold as this man is, I'm not sure if he was angry over her actual death or the wasted investment. While he will deny it to the grave, the man practically worships money. Everything was an investment to him, so if it didn't seem like he would make more money out of it he didn't bother. Quite the opposite of his better half. Aven would give you the shirt off of her back if it wouldn't reveal her assets.

As I walk into the hospital, I notice an unusually large crowd for this time of day. Looks like all of Blackview has caught the flu and they are just dying to share it with me. I cautiously walk through the crowd, dodging every possible threat as I pass them. After traveling the ocean of disease, I finally reach the receptionist. I gasp for air once I reached my destination. Without thinking I must have been holding my breath until I got to that slightly safer area. This startles the receptionist, but I assure her that I'm just fine. She tells me that Aven is currently in surgery and points me to the waiting room. At this point I'm scared out of my mind for the poor woman. I head to the waiting room all shaky from my nerves. Once I enter the area I am immediately met with a disapproving glare. A glare only capable of being produced by the iceman, Rico, himself. The man was seated right by the door as if he wanted the first thing for me to see is his scowl. This lasted only a few seconds which was more than enough to send his message. I sit several seats away from that grumpy old man. Waiting for news is unbearable, but not as much as waiting with him. Not a word was spoken to me however you couldn't even cut the tension with a jackhammer. Rico is indeed the master when it comes to making one feel unwanted. He deliberately made sure not to even look remotely in my direction after my welcome. Nearly an hour passed before we heard any news. The phone on the wall rings and Rico quickly picks it up. A minute later he sets the phone down and just says, "She's out." Indeed a man of few words. He immediately leaves the room and proceeds down the hall. I follow him from a distance, knowing better than to get in his path.

Eventually, we find ourselves in an elevator which only brought more discomfort. I'm not claustrophobic by any stretch of the imagination, but the last thing I want is to be in such close quarters with Rico. He stays close to the elevator doors leaving me enough room to confine myself in the back. The elevator stops on the third floor and before he steps out he looks back at me and sternly says, "She is fine, so just leave." Something in me wanted to listen to those words. There was no joy in being around that icy cold individual. However, I owed it to Aven to be there for her during her hour of need. So I decided to grow a pair and continue to follow him, despite what he said. All Rico did was shrug when he noticed I wasn't heeding his words. Like a cockroach I refused to go away, yet I think he accepted that. He wasn't about to waste his breath trying vainly to get rid of me. The man may be a stone cold bastard, but even he knows what matters right now. So of course he is going to be more concerned about the woman he has known since childhood. Ignoring me, Rico keeps on walking until we reach the room Aven is to stay. As we had expected, she was not in the room quite yet. One gets tired of waiting after a while and obviously there is more waiting to be had. Almost makes me wish that the old man would speak just a little bit. If it wasn't for doctors walking by every once in a while the area was nearly silent. Fortunately, we didn't have to wait too terribly long before Aven was rolled in here. She was clearly unconscious, as one would expect. Rico was chatting it up with the nurses in order to get a better grasp on the situation. Not a whole lot of information was gained by that little talk, but it was nice to hear something other than my thoughts. Once the nurses left the room I took a long hard look at Aven. Poor woman had all sorts of bruising on her face and her arm was definitely broken. The rest of her body was covered up by a blanket, hiding any other possible injuries. I could only imagine how much of an ordeal this has been for her. She wasn't exactly a pillar of strength and even a strong body is no match for a car. I wish I could pummel the asshole that did this to her.

Frustration was building up inside of me, seeing as I have yet to be told about Aven's actual condition. I could only tell so much by looking at her. The doctor must be taking his sweet time getting over here. A police officer actually came by looking for the doctor, himself. This made me more than a little concerned. Something is definitely going on here and I don't like it. I asked the officer if everything was okay, he however did not answer me. He shortly left the room and proceeds down the hall in a hurry. I peek outside to see him questioning a group of nurses. From what I could hear, the doctor went missing after checking up on a prisoner. Not something anyone wants to happen in a hospital. Especially when you have a relative that can't so much as move to save her life. My mind begins racing to all sorts of terrifying conclusions. Before I would go overboard, the nurses tell the policeman that he simply slipped and hit his head on the restroom sink. Couldn't make out the rest of it, but from what I could tell the situation was nothing to worry about. The officer laughed it off then slowly walks away with a happy look on his face. Nothing major was happening after all so there was no reason for me to be anxious. Boy, the past couple of days have done quite a number on my nerves. I should really learn how to relax. Slowly sitting back down into my chair I felt my eye lids become heavy.

Often in sleep I am reminded of events long past. One in particular often reveals itself as I dream. Back when I was in the peace corp. I was roughly sixteen years old. My adopted parents gave me the okay so off I went to make some sort of difference. Things never go the way you plan. The only difference made was the scar left on my psyche. Everything was a bit harder than I excepted, but I eventually got use to it. Felt good to help out these poor people... until the men with the trucks came. They made their presence known by shooting wildly into the air as they reached the village. Several villagers ran in a desperate attempt to get away. That didn't work out too well. One after another were gunned down as they were making their escape. The people that were within reaching distance of these ruffians were rounded up. Systematically they executed the men of the village in front of their families. Where was I when this was all happening? I was hiding in the bushes like a coward. When I saw them coming from a distance I just knew what would happen if I didn't. There was a girl maybe three years younger than me that walked near my hiding spot before the shooting began. I pulled her into the bushes with me and put my hand over her mouth. I assured her that no harm would come to her. We just needed to keep quite in order to make it out alive. As bad as this was for me, the situation was much worse for her. Her people were being killed in front of her eyes. Probably the most scarring was when a man was shot heading in our direction. He would stare blankly into our eyes as he lay. His daughter would keep staring in disbelief. That's right, the girl hiding with me was his kin. She tried her hardest not to cry so that we could remain quite. Regardless of her wishes she could not hold back the tears. Not that I blamed the poor thing. Only a monster could watch their father die and not be saddened by it. We got lucky for they did not hear her sobs. The sounds of the shouts and gunfire muzzled them out. Fifteen minutes later they left the place with the surviving women and children. If I hadn't grabbed her, that girl would have suffered whatever fate awaited the abducted.

Upon awaking from my little nap, I jerk my head up and look around instinctively. Of course it doesn't take long for me to realize where I am. Aven is awake now too, it would seem. She looks at me with concern in her eyes. I'm not the one staying at a hospital and she is the one worried about me. That is just the kind of woman she is. Her hand signaled me to approach her so I walk over to the bedside. I was greeted with a smile and she began to talk in a drowsy voice.

"Hun, are you still having those bad dreams?" Aven says as she reaches out to the side of my face with her good arm.
"I think now is a time for you to be more worried about yourself." I say laughingly. "So how are you holding up?"
"It is nothing a little morphine and some painkillers can't fix. However, you are just deflecting."
"Perhaps so. Not that it matters all that much. They are only dreams."
"You need to let it go... the burden you carry. That is the only way you can go on with your life. We don't last in this world forever and our time is too short to live with regrets. Teresa would not want you to suffer like this."

Aven is very intelligent, but there are some things she knows nothing about. If Teresa didn't want me to suffer she wouldn't have left me alone with our child. Both of us were weak. I couldn't control my urges and she couldn't handle the reality of my lecherous behavior. My love for her was genuine, however I also loved another. I was unable to choose between the two thus leading to my loss. Her parents never knew about the affair. Though, I think Rico may have suspected something. The piercing stares he gave told the whole story. I'm not sure why he never told Aven about his suspicions. Maybe she wouldn't be able to handle it either. Noticing my unusually long pause, Aven begins to address it until something came to her attention.

"There is something odd about your eyes. Are you wearing contacts or something." She asks giving a rather bewildered look.
"What are you talking about, Moms? You know that I have perfect vision" I answer, now confused myself.
"I don't know. Maybe my memory is getting the better of me at my age. I just don't recall them being blue."

Now I was quite concerned. How could she see a figment of my imagination? Before I knew it I found myself rushing into the restroom. There is no possible way that my eyes spontaneously changed. Things like this simply do not happen. Despite my mind knowing how impossible it is, I have to see for myself. Aven did not know about the incident from earlier and she was not one known for lying. When my eyes catch sight of the mirror the truth became clear. She wasn't just joshing with me. They really have changed. I unbutton my shirt to look for more evidence. As I feared, the infinity tattoo was real.

[Jamos]

Re: In this topic I will write... Sin.

I figured all that text in one post is a bit much so I separated them. Now it is in the first post and the one right before this post. Along with the following. It is the conclusion of the first chapter. Enjoy

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What I rode off as hysterical manifestations of the mind turned out to be factual. I stood there, just staring at the reflection in the mirror. I'm certainly at a loss of words, not to mention explanations. Honestly, I don't know what to do about this. I can't exactly tell others "I had a bad dream with a monster then I woke up with blue eyes and a tat." I splash some cold water on my face to snap me out of my hysteria. Just need to remain calm and think about this rationally. Too bad for me that I kept drawing a blank. A couple of minutes passed by when it hit me that I up and left Aven mid-conversation. To negate my rudeness I have to come up with a believable excuse. I wasn't about to tell her my current problem so I came up with something obvious. A simple flush of the toilet should be more than enough. Afterwards, I wash my hands like a fiend and walk out of the restroom. The indifferent, Rico just sat there staring at the doorway, ignoring all other things. Amazing how someone that was so concerned for his wife doesn't so much as look in her direction. He is a hard man to decipher. I look over at Aven to see her asleep yet again. Not much time passed when I was in the other room, but she was probably exhausted. Been a rough day for her so no wonder. I took my seat as a doctor came in.

The doctor is a tall, white woman with short, blonde hair and wearing the typical doctor attire. However, her hair looks as if she just got out of bed and her clothing was all wrinkly. This made me rather nervous, seeing as she is taking care of Aven. The lady smiles and waves at me. I felt a conversation coming and I just hope this lady is capable of speaking in complete sentences. From the utter nonsense coming out of the hole in her face I found out Dr. Alyssa Jones was her name. She seemed way too perky for someone with her occupation. The more she spoke the more I was convinced she was the general blonde stereotype. That is until she finished up the small talk. When Dr. Jones got down to business she knew what she was doing. Actual intelligence was revealed as she was explaining Aven's situation. Aven had broken an arm and a few ribs, which was bad enough for someone her age. The worst of it was that debris impaled her fairly close to some vital organs. Precise surgery was essential for her survival. Her continued existence is apparent with her breathing right in front of me, so it should be safe to say the surgery was a success. Once our little talk was over she checked on Aven's vitals and some other doctor related tinkering that I'm not savvy with. Alyssa finished up and left the room to visit the hundreds of other nameless patients. I was still concerned to have anyone in care of this woman, but I suppose she will have to do. Aven is still alive so maybe I should give her some credit. Before long I couldn't even concentrate on my thoughts about that loony doctor. I haven't eaten in a while and my stomach sure is letting me know it. Walking towards the door I let Rico know that I'm heading to the cafeteria and asked him if he would like something. There was no verbal response to my peace offering. A quick glance was made in my direction then went right back to what he was doing. Thought that I would try to be helpful for a change. Guess he didn't want anything to eat. I ignore his mild rudeness and go down the hall towards the elevator. Upon reaching the elevator my head began to hurt again. This time I had aspirin on hand to ease the pain. Within a matter of seconds the sensation grew tremendously causing me to drop my pill bottle. I drop to my knees, unable to bear it anymore. Several nurses notice my distress and come to help. Moments before they could get to me the elevator doors close.

Time suffering from the headache was not long allowing me to return to my feet shortly. I could feel the elevator going down despite me not pushing any buttons. Of course, somebody could have summoned the elevator from a lower floor so I thought little of it. I glance up to check what floor I was currently at. There had to be some sort of glitch in the system because it was impossible. The lowest level is B1 yet what I see is even lower. My descent turned into a free fall by indication of my body flying to the ceiling. Someone really wants to put my head through the ringer. I am getting quite tired of all this head pain. Especially this most current addition. Not that it is my most pressing concern at this point. I'm more worried about gravity and what happens once something stops falling. For the longest time there seemed to be no end. The force keeping me pressed to the ceiling prevented any movement on my part, along with a sense of vertigo. As expected, there was eventually a sudden stop. My body slammed to the floor with a tremendous force that should have killed me. I could feel my bones shatter like glass and my organs burst. I remain conscious, but I could not see thanks to my eyes meeting the same fate as my organs. Odd as it may be, I could feel my destroyed body pulling itself back together. Certain death was somehow delayed by unknown means. I don't bother questioning what just happened. Nothing can surprise me, anymore.

Getting back up was fairly easy for someone that was turned into a flapjack not long ago. I was curious as to what possible imaginary floor I have plummeted to. I was only on B113 of a hospital with only one basement floor. Definitely nothing strange here. There was no point in standing around in this elevator all day so I decide to wander around this non-existent floor. The walls around me looked like they were made out of aged concrete with cracks throughout it. The flooring looked no different. They need desperately to fire their interior decorator. There is no distinction between the walls and the floors giving it an almost surreal feeling. I could be walking on the walls and not notice it in this place. However, this wasn't what felt the strangest about the place. This unknown area made me feel some serious deja vu. Not sure how that can be. Then again, there are more than a few things I'm not sure about today. I continue walking down an uninterrupted hallway that stretched from the elevator. I keep looking for some sort of turn or room at the sides of me to no avail. What's funny is that the whole time I'm just looking for a vending machine. Weird **** happening doesn't stop one from being hungry. Energy is needed now more than ever. My strength felt drained after each step as if I was having the life sucked out of me. A simple walk shouldn't be difficult for someone that pulled off that which Humpty Dumpty could not.

Fear not thy mortal wounds.
Those who bear my mark shall not fall.
Fear thy pursuers for the flesh is not their wish.
Fragile minds are easily compromised in their wake.
Thoughtless dreams shall be thy fate if their hunger they shall sate.

How I wished not to hear that voice again. Popping out of nowhere then leaving with no explanation. This time it wanted to be a poet or something like that. Normally I would try to write it off as crazy nonsense, but I am reminded of my tattoo. Could that be the mark he speaks of. And if so, what of my pursuers? I do not recall anyone coming after me. Nor can I think of anyone that would wish to do harm to me. Just in case, though, I'm going to be cautious.

I force myself to walk down the hallway during my weaken state. My wish was to return to the elevator, but I knew my body wouldn't make it. All I can do is press forward and hope for the best. Finally after walking a straight path for the longest time, there was a right turn leading to a door. Stepping through the door I noticed the energy sapping feeling disappeared. In this room there were very little note worthy except for what was in the middle. Some sort of conveyor belt leading into what appears to be a furnace. On closer inspection I could tell that there was a body on it. Worrying about the fate of this man I run to his aid. I grab his arm and instantly notice it was ice cold. Regardless, I still attempt to pull him off. Pulling as hard as I could was not enough to so much as budge the guy. Almost like he was super glued to the belt. I take a look at his face and it took a few moments to figure out that he was someone I once knew. Twenty years ago I worked for this man. He was of average height and medium build with combed back, red hair. One of my favorite bosses for several years. Nobody was as respectful to his employees or as dedicated to his work. He ran Riverside Shipping Service, one of the top three shipping companies in the city. Was a finely tuned family run company that has been around for over thirty years. I recall one summer his eldest daughter, Janice, came to work until her college classes started. She was a stunningly beautiful woman with long, flowing hair that seemed as endless as her legs. Though, the features most stared at by the other workers was her endowment and the hips that she kept strutting. I know this because the others kept telling me about them, not to mention the things they would like to do to her. I swear, some people have no tact. If the boss so much as heard the things they were saying they would lose their stick shifts. Impure thoughts however were much more forgivable. What they wished to see was what I was both lucky and unlucky enough to be involved with. All of it started during a company party, shortly after her work there started. Janice homed in on me then pounced without warning. I hate to admit that we had frequent encounters up until she left for college, never to be seen again. My wife never knew about this one. The next, on the other hand, was a different story.

My attention returns to the person right in front of me. Finally managed to remember that his name was Brian. I can't believe I forgot the name of someone I worked under for years. Especially when things didn't end on the best of terms. On the surface business was booming and money was flowing in. So naturally we went out of business. Nobody knew what was going on up until the day the doors were closed for good. The source of the problem was none other than Brian, himself. Over the years he developed a gambling addiction which started off harmless enough. A loss of one hundred here and there later became thousands. His addiction got to the point that he was spending money he didn't have so he starting borrowing company money. He somehow managed to keep this hidden from his workers. Then one cold day in January I made my way to work like usual only to see a large group of my coworkers at the entrance. A man was locking the doors, preventing us from going in to do our jobs. There was an uproar of cries coming from the crowd. I'm surprised he made it of there alive. Alive... wait a second. Brian looks as though he hasn't aged a day since the last time I seen him. My blood suddenly ran cold. It all came back to me. A few days after we went out of business he was found in a hotel room with a makeshift smile around his throat. Believed to be the doings of a disgruntled ex-employee. There is no way a corpse from twenty years ago could be here, much less this preserved. Like a swift kick to the ass another piece of information hit me. His full name was Brian Huffield.

I started to slowly back away from Brian's corpse. Moments before reaching the furnace his arms and legs begin moving franticly. In a fashion that seems like a struggle to get off the conveyor belt. None of the struggling works out for him so in he goes. Once in, a door shuts to prevent any possible escape. I hear a tormented scream coming from within leaving me petrified. A short period of time passes and those horrible noises finally end. When I return to my senses I decide to get the hell out of there. However, as I was making a break for it I could hear a new set of sounds coming from the furnace. Scraping, banging, then a sudden thud from the door flying into the wall. I have no intention of getting acquainted with whatever plans to exit that inferno so I'm halfway down the hall at this point. Despite how fast I was running, footsteps were getting closer by the second. By reflex I peak over my shoulder in order to find out what is following, against my better judgement. At first I couldn't see anything behind me, but I wasn't able looking in the right area. My eyes wander around to catch a glimpse of something above my head. I investigate further to see something that defies all reason. Though, reason kind of flew out the window a while back. A ghoulish creature is crawling towards me from the ceiling. It has gray, shriveled up skin revealing it's bones. The anatomy is similar to that of humans with one major difference. At the hip it seems like someone sawed off the legs only to replace them with boney arms. The eye on the left side had no pupils and the entirety of the eye was blood red. On the right side of its face the eye is sown shut, but I can feel it staring right at me. Responding to my gaze, that ghoul unhinges its jaw which reveals a lack of teeth and nothing more than a dark void inside its mouth. Coming from that void was a banshee wail that gives me a free flying lesson. I land about five feet away causing quite a bit of discomfort. Before I’m capable of responding to this attack, that fleshy skeleton was right on me. Both pairs of its arms either grab my own arms or legs. Obviously this thing has no intention of letting me go. The creature’s face is maybe six inches away from mine and it proceeds to surprise me again. The stitched up eye lid begins to tear as it tries to force it open. Coming from the little openings, blue lights seep out. Now there are two things I don’t want it to do: open the mouth or the eye. Reacting as quickly as possible, I headbutt the exposed red eye making it release the death grip on my arms. I know I won’t have another opportunity so I repeatedly punch the same eye until it literally bursts. Monster man decides to stop its assault in order to tend to its wounds. This was the chance I was looking for. I get up and back to what I was doing before I was rudely interrupted. When I reach the elevator I saw that the doors were already open. They say not to look a gift horse in the mouth so I rush in there. The ghoul just recovers as the doors begin to shut. Its right eye finally opens shining at me like a powerful flashlight. While trapped in its gaze I am incapable of breathing. If not for the closing doors I would be at its mercy. I sit on the floor while leaning against the wall. The elevator goes up halfway when it comes to a complete stop. I’m scared ****less, still thinking about the monster I just escaped. Out of nowhere a familiar smiling face appears before me. It is the child from my drunken dream.