Categories > Original > Horror > gjnhjfdhns

Never End

by noisee 0 reviews

I love you, and goodnight.

Category: Horror - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Horror - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2007-11-21 - Updated: 2007-11-22 - 1693 words - Complete

gjnhjfdhns: Part FIFTY-ONE: Never End

It’s my birthday.

It’s my birthday, and everyone is standing.

It’s my birthday, and everyone is standing around a cake.

It’s my birthday, and everyone is standing around a cake, clapping.

It’s my birthday, and everyone is standing around a cake, clapping their hands and blowing out candles.

It’s my birthday, and…

Why am I lying down? I’ll just…


Why can’t I move? I think I’m… I think I’m strapped down…

What… is this?

Signs of lucidity.

Oh… My head is killing me. And I feel like I’ve been trampled by a pack of ravenous dogs or something. Ravenous because it feels like I’ve been torn apart… But I’m not apart. I’m together. I’m completely…

Signs of… Signs of lucidididi… si si signs of

together. It just… No, it doesn’t hurt, that’s not the right word, it’s just…

Signs of lucidity.

That’s not me.

Signs of lucidity.

No, I don’t think that’s me, that’s- I don’t know, it sounds like… I’m not sure.

Signs of lucidity.

It sounds like something that, /ohhh/, this is difficult, it’s never been this difficult before, I’ve always been able to put my finger on the feeling /eventually/, just… I don’t know.

I feel murky. I feel like how water looks when it has been filled with mud. I feel…

Signs of lucidity, Finn, she’s showing some signs of

I’m showing some signs of

she’s showing some signs of

signs of







signs of

I know who it is. It’s not me, I know who it is. It’s

she’s fading, Doctor, fading fast

no- no, /shit/. It was… I know who it is. I know I don’t like it. I know it’s not me. I know…

I know…

I open my eyes. The light’s much too bright, but I can’t close them, not now. There are two- no, there’s three, three vague shapes of people I know. I know I know. I just don’t know who they are. I just don’t know why.

Why what?

Why what?

Why… Oh. Oh, oh, oh. I get it. I understand. I know. Him, he’s… he’s the one who screams. The one who’s screaming and screaming and screaming, I can’t sleep because of the screams, did you know that, have I told you?


No, that’s not right. He’s not the one who screams. He’s the one who…

as soon as I saw him, I felt the faint tug of a memory of intense pain, something I was sure didn't belong to me

He’s the doctor. He’s the /doctor/.

I’m the doctor.

He’s the doctor, he’s the- oh, oh my fucking God it’s /him/, the man from the plane from the dreams from the mall from the screams from the

what plane?

What plane? The plane that…


What plane? What are we talking about?

My eyes are tired. My head hurts. I feel like I’ve been torn apart, but I’m together, but I feel like… Well, maybe if I close my eyes…

The sound of something ripping, something that isn't cloth. Wailing. I'm... I'm being eaten

No. No, not that. I can keep them open. I can…

eaten alive. The sounds around me, they're teeth nipping at my skin- No, not nipping, they're gnawing, they're biting, they're chomping down

I open my eyes and I scream. The sharp motion of sitting upright jostles the various drips and machines I’ve been hooked up to (hooked into?). I scream but I can’t, all I can do is stare at the three around me. Two of them have no face.

And the third is the man, the man all along.

“/There/ she is. Good morning, Hazel.”

No, /no/. Not this. I know, I know, not /this/.

“You know, I’d been looking for this,” he politely informs me, waving a piece of paper in the air in front of me. “To find it in your pockets? Very peculiar, but… Dealing with someone with your capabilities, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

What’s he going on about? There’s nothing on that paper but a bunch of words I can’t understand. Something medical? I don’t know… But I do remember where it’s from. It’s… I picked it up in the plane.

what plane?

“I bet you don’t understand that.” He folds the paper carefully and sets it on a table out of my reach. “I bet you can barely understand me now. Oh, sure, I’m speaking English, but I bet you’re just as lost as ever.”

I am. He can’t know that, though. He can’t know that there’s a nagging at the back of my head, burning slowly to my consciousness. He can’t know that I’m afraid to blink but my eyes are just dead tired.

“It’s all in here,” he taps his temple with his index finger, “everything. Which explains how you were able to manipulate everything /else/. Making things disappear, willing entire locations to materialize beneath your feet…”

Savagely, I scraped at my seat belt, wishing desperately for it to come off, for the seat belts to disappear or something, just to get free.

Miraculously, it did. I stared I won't Or is that death?

I'm NOT going to die like this!

Suddenly, I was falling

I stare at him. He taps his head again.

“All in here.”

He smiles, and I can see what he’s seeing, a badly bruised but not physically broken girl strapped down for her own protection, two skeptical-faced interns with other things on their minds like Sarah’s waiting for me, she’ll be pissed and he’s crazy, they’re all crazy, but even so and why can I understand what they’re thinking!?

“I’ve told you already,” he says. “Everything.”

I see my garage and we’re going to get scared and there’s something dark and I see us running to the school down a path that’s usually so calm I see the school field it’s swarmed it’s swarmed I see darkness I see friends fighting in ways they never do I see a stone angel I see him I see medicine and death and the scent of blood I see stitches I see a finger covered in spittle I see the lobby room the lobby is red I see

I see dark. Figures in the dark. I see nothing. I see an empty school mired in disarray. I see a hospital of frightened faces and bloodshed at our hands.

Our hands?

I see the morgue instead of the buffet, I see a screaming doctor, I see medical charts, Angel’s name on them, I see something important- starts with a fay and ends with a /tahl/- I see a drop, a far, far, drop, I see broken glass and broken glass and broken glass and I see we’ve been caught.

But it’s not over yet.

I see a plane I see an office I see dirt and dirt and dirt and it’s in my eyes eyes eyes I see needles and therapy and paperwork and nothing I see him I see no walls I see only walls I see a monster I see nametags I see Colin I see nothing I see rooms and rooms and it’s all of us and I see him and I see falling I see red I see E I see X I see concrete stone cold ouch cold stone ouch cold

she’s fading, Doctor

I see clothes I see displays I see glass and faces and crying and I see security I see tapes I see discounts I see disease I see mutants I see police I see him I see him I see guns him police I see

fading fast

jail cells eyeballs stitches hair nails batteries lightbulbs ropes lighters cages bars stranger shaking stranger still floors stairs him papers him faces him him

He’s talking again.

“… Frightfully stubborn, but it’s proved him well- physical prowess like you wouldn’t believe- then again, I suppose there are a lot of things you’ll believe /now/. And then there’s the hemophobic one, she’s highly malleable, it’s almost disconcerting- but the /prospects/…”

He’s talking about /us/.

“Ah, the trouble is you. You and your dear friend, Mitchell. The wild cards. The others are easily reigned in, but you two…” A flash of pearly whites. “There’s time. We’ll have you yet.”

He’s talking about using us. To what ends, I don’t know.

They can’t be good.

(Of course they can’t.)

Doctor, fading, she’s

“You can go back to sleep now.” As if it is his choice (/as if it isn’t/). “We’ll resume when you’ve more sense in you.”

And sleep sounds positively transcendent. I close my eyes

chomping down on my flesh. It hurts, but I can't scream. I can't make a noise. I can't move. I can only feel the pain, feel each piece being pierced through and

I close. My. Eyes—

and ripped off, feel the air hit my innards and sting, feel the blood gush from where the veins have been savagely torn

I can’t. I can’t I can’t Ican’tIcan’tcan’tcan’t

He pushes me down with a sympathetic smile that makes me feel less sympathy and more pathetic.

The straps tighten.

I keep my eyes wide and as far as I can from closed. The man holds his hand over them, casting a shadow that’s just enough to allow the noises in.

He says, “your friends are waiting.”

After that, the man covers my eyes.
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