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|Sun, 5th Dec '10, 3:44am||#51|
The Small One
Pain. Blackness. Oblivion.
Well, not total oblivion, because Mitch was aware of his awareness. He was also painfully aware of the pain, but as he moved deeper into the blackness it faded in urgency, and his awareness of ... something, gradually faded into oblivi …
“WAIT! YOU CAN’T GO YET!” called a strange yet somehow familiar voice out of the darkness, from the direction of the pain.
With one foot through the portal of nothingness, Mitch paused, drawn back by the urgency of the voice that called to him. But still, “I already came back once, and there wasn’t anything better about the world the second time I came into it. Why should I come back a third time to a world that I KNOW has gone down the toilet?” he called.
“Because you are needed, you are the One.” The voice sounded closer.
“Who are you?” Mitch asked.
“I am your sister,” he could make out a shadowy form in the blackness now.
“Haah! Liar! I never had a sister!” Mitch sneered.
“Not once you were born, no. But we were together in our mother’s womb. The delivery was difficult, and you thrashed around so much that you caused enough internal bleeding to kill our dear mother, and alas, I did not survive either.” the shadow was very small, fetus-like.
“Oh, I’m uh, sorry, I didn’t know,” Mitch felt ashamed.
“It’s okay, you always were very hasty. We forgive you, besides, mother is with our loving father now, at rest.” The form reached out an appendage, as if to touch Mitch, then drew back before making contact.
“Loving father?!” Mitch scoffed, “Let me tell you sis, there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about our old man.” Mitch didn’t know why he was taking this shadowy form’s word that it was his sister, but for some reason he trusted her.
“Well, I’ll admit that he treated you very poorly in your life, but he was a wonderful man when he was chosen to be our father by Her Ladyship.” She had been slowly moving back towards the pain, and he had been following her, though she did seem to be taking him on a detour around the very worst part of it.
“Her Ladyship?” Mitch asked. “Our mother was a noble boat?”
“No, no, not our mother, she was just a scion of the True Line. Her Ladyship, the One who can’t been seen. She let our mother know that our father was of pure enough blood to produce a High Priestess, me.”
Mitch stopped going through the darkness. “What in the heck are you talking about? And what about me?”
“Well, actually, you were a mistake. Impurities in our mother’s drinking water caused our embryo to split. You see, she had put so much power into the conception that one soul was stretched almost to breaking point holding it all, and with the weakness caused by the impure water I guess I leaked a little power and you developed from that.” His sister had stopped with him.
“But if I split off from you,” Mitch pounced on a logical fallacy in his sister’s story, “How could I be a man? You only have two X chromosomes, so you couldn’t give me a Y chromosome. Your story makes no sense.”
“You don’t have a Y chromosome. Didn’t you ever wonder why you never had any interest in sex with either gender?” She grabbed his arm and gave a gentle tug. “Come on, we have to go. You must be introduced to Her Ladyship.”
Mitch was nonplussed for a moment. “I always thought it was because I was smarter than the goofballs and silly girls falling in love with each other. I really don’t have a Y chromosome?”
“Nope, sorry, didn’t have one to give you, come on now,” she pulled more aggressively at his arm.
“NO!” Mitch yelled, yanking his arm away from her grasp. “Not until you tell me what is going on here!”
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” she said, coming closer to him. “Oh my! What’s that behind you?!” she blurted out.
Mitch turned to look, but could see only blackness in the darkness. “I don’t see anyth...”
but he could sense her dashing close into his body and turned back just in time to see her little hand thrust itself into his head. “Aaah!” he gagged. Strangely, having his sisters arm and hand inside his head didn’t hurt, it just felt weird, like the doctor checking your prostrate. He felt her grab hold of something inside his mind and lift it out. Then she extracted her hand and arm as well. “Eewgleugh,” Mitch gasped, shaking his head til he felt normal again. “What did you do that for? And what did you do?”
“Sorry about that. I was pretty sure you wouldn’t let me, or even be able to let me, get in your mind if I asked,” she answered, holding up the blacker bit of darkness she had pulled from his head, “and it was imperative to get this veil here off your memory. When you died, er, almost died, the first time after the IED Her Ladyship and I deemed you too unstable to deal with what you saw on the other side, so we put that veil there to not further stress you out. But now that its off you can go back and access your memory of what happened when you were technically dead. Pick me up and hold me, and I can ‘go’ with you and explain if you have questions.” She jumped into his arms, and he caught her.
“This is just too weird, man,” Mitch said, but he did seem to have a new area in his mind that he could go to.
|Sun, 5th Dec '10, 6:11am||#52|
The Small One
Mitch was riding shotgun in their armored up Humvee. Squid was driving, Miller was on the .50 out the hatch, and his unborn baby sister was sitting in his lap, which did seem a little weird. They were driving through Mosul at the end of a hot day. The sun was going down.
Some kids were playing soccer on a field of rocks and dirt to the left of the road, and another kid was coming towards them on a rusty bike. Someone took a shot at the goal. It bounced off the post, got headed by another kid back towards the goal, then kicked out into the street, where it connected perfectly with the head of the kid on the bike, who had been watching how Miller was keeping the .50 trained on him as he approached. He lost control, went into the crumbled curb, then over the handle bars and into a pile of rocks head first.
Squid slowed the Humvee down. “Stop it, I’m getting out.” Mitch told him.
“You sure Sergeant? Could be a set up.” Miller cautioned.
“Too elaborate for that. How could they plan such a freaky shot with a bunch of kids playing soccer? Sides, isn’t that Hassan? Aisha the corner shop lady’s kid? He’s a good kid.” Mitch scanned the roof tops of the the neighbors’ houses, but saw no motion as he walked towards the kid. The kids playing soccer were watching, but not approaching. “Cover me just in case.”
It was Hassan, he looked to be nine or ten, but with the malnutrition most of these kids suffered he could easily be fourteen or fifteen, or even twenty. He was trying to not cry as blood ran down his forehead and flowed from a few deep lacerations on his palms where he had tried to stop his fall.
“Salami like some,” Mitch greeted the kid and motioned with his gauze pad from his first aid kit to the boy’s wounds. Hassan nodded. Mitch got down on one knee and applied pressure to his forehead wound. Then he heard a cell phone ring from the bicycle one meter away.
The blast blew him out of his body. He watched as bike parts and rocks impacted into his body armor, throwing him four meters down the street, a few lucky pieces of shrapnel finding the unguarded spot beneath his Kevlar. Hassan, who had on jeans and a T-shirt, did not stand up so well to the blast, and ended up spread over the road and soccer field, where some of the kids went down and stayed down, and others started running, only to be blast apart by the .50 as Miller opened up on them.
“CEASE FIRE!” Mitch yelled at Miller, who only continued to fire at the fleeing targets.
“He can’t hear you, your body is over there on the road side.” a man told Mitch. He turned to see a tall, pale, black robed stranger standing next to him.
“Who are you?” Mitch asked, the fire from the .50, though continuing, seemed to be coming from another world now.
“Do you have to ask? I’ll give you three guesses and a hint. I’m not Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny,” the stranger gave a grim smile.
“Are you Death?” Mitch asked. The man nodded. “Where’s your scythe?”
“I don’t need it here in Iraq. I’m so busy with all you fellow’s handiwork that it’d just slow me down if I had to lug it around all the time. Come along now, you’ve been a bad boy.” He took Mitch’s hand in his, and there was no option but to go with him.
“Where are we going?” Mitch asked.
“Goodness, you are a dense one aren’t you?” Death said. “If you have to ask, you won’t believe my answer. You’ll have time enough to figure it out. The lines have been getting longer and longer. Here we are now, have a nice eternity.”
“Wait!” Mitch said, but Death was gone, and Mitch found himself standing in a line. A long line. A long, long, long, line in front of a wall that stretched across the horizon. There were several gates in the wall that the line stretched to. From his position on a hill descending down to the wall, he could see masses of people on the other side of the wall as well. Someone bumped into him from behind.
“Oh, Sergeant Mitchell, I hope to Allah that you aren’t one of my seventy-two virgins. You’re not a virgin are you?” It was Hassan, who looked much better than the last time Mitch had seen him spread out over the road and field.
“Yes, actually I am a virgin.” Mitch admitted. “Don’t tell the guys in the squad that though. But I sure don’t want to be one of yours. Anyway, I would guess that we aren’t in Heaven, but in Hell. Well, waiting to get into it anyway. Hey, why did you do me anyway? I always tried to treat you and your mom right?"
"You weren't the target," Hassan admitted. I was riding to the police recruiting station, where they were going to have an information session. I guess my controller just didn't want you to take a good look at the bike and figured you were a good target of opportunity. I'm not sorry though, since you're an infidel. I only wish I could have taken out more of you." He looked at Mitch with a baleful glance.
"Well, same to you then. Welcome to Hell." Mitch told the boy. "Boy, this line sure is long.” Mitch got out his binoculars and started to examine it.
It was filled with people, some soldiers like himself, others all sorts of people. It stretched down the long hill to the wall. The wall was made of black stone, maybe about 6 meters high. The people on the other side of the wall all seemed to be made out of fire. As he watched, a group of them surged towards the wall, and almost made it to the top and over it before a group of horned figures flew in on their bat wings and beat them back with whips and tridents. Then the clouds came in. Focusing in on the clouds he could see they were formed from spaghetti and meatballs.
“Behold, the Dark One comes to do his evil work.” His sister said from behind his knee. He had forgotten she was there.
“Who is that?” Mitch asked.
“It is the Flying Spaghetti Monster. See what chaos he works.” his sister said. Mitch turned the binoculars back to the clouds of pasta. As they rained down along the wall, the winged demons stopped what they were doing to gather up the noodles and meatballs and gorge themselves on them, totally ignoring their tasks of guarding the wall and processing the people in line through the gates.
“You see, dear brother,” his sister explained. “When people on earth consume spaghetti and meatballs, it is transubstantiated in their bowels, and when they pass it it comes here in the form of the Dark One. As more and more people eat Italian food, the guardian demons do less and less of their work, thus the long line. Soon, they will be completely satiated with pasta and we fear that the damned will be released back into the world. That will be a dark day indeed.” His sister looked at the ground sadly. “But you have seen enough here, it is what you will need to know soon, and they’re just about to bring you back … right about now!”
700 volts went through his heart, which suddenly started to beat again.
“We got a pulse!” Mitch heard someone yell. “Let’s get some epinephrine in him!”
Mitch felt himself being lifted on a stretcher. Then he was back in the darkness with his sister.
“So you were with me then? When I died?” he asked her.
“I have rarely left you since you were born, except for the times when Her Ladyship required my service, speaking of which, here we are. It is time for you to meet Her.” The darkness had imperceptibly lightened. They were in a sylvan glade, dew dripping off the leaves of the trees. It was beautiful. “There She is! Isn’t She beautiful?” his sister asked him.
Mitch looked at the glade, but only saw trees, which while pretty, were nothing to gush about. “I can’t see anything,” he said.
“Silly me, I forgot that you haven’t been blinded yet. Sorry to have to do this to you, but,” without another word she reached into his head again and squeezed his left eyeball so hard he thought it would pop. “Now, close your seeing eye, and don’t look with your blind eye, and you will see Her.”
“Oow! Don’t do that anymore!” Mitch complained. Yet he did as he was bidden and looked in the glade. At first he didn’t see any thing but the trees again, but when he looked away, with out trying to see, he saw something. A pink outline at first, but then more forms of a horse, no, it was … a unicorn. “OOOH! I see it now! It’s a unicorn!” he exclaimed.
“Be reverent of her!” his sister commanded. “She is our Lady. The Invisible Pink Unicorn! And you will be her champion!”
“Me? But I’m not worthy! I’m just a worn out junkie!” Mitch protested.
“It’s true you have much to be desired. Only females may communicate with her, which is why I was supposed to be the One, but you’ll have to do. There is no one else.” his sister replied.
“What must I do?” Mitch asked.
“Three things,” his sister answered. “First, go back to the world of the living. Second, arm yourself and destroy the bodies of the souls that have escaped from Hell. As you already have found out, destroying their brain severs their connection to their former bodies. Third, destroy all the spaghetti and meatballs in the world. Whenever they get eaten the guardian demons don’t do their job and more souls escape.”
“But I’m just one person. And I get the shakes if I don’t get a regular fix. I can’t do all that!” Mitch felt overwhelmed.
“True, but one is more that a million,” his sister said. “And with the power of Her Ladyship, you will be able to overcome your urges. You have been healed. Now you must go and begin your quest. Get on now!” She whacked him in the back of the head so hard he could feel the pain again.
Pain. Blackness, no a light in his eyes. Mitch opened them and groaned. Sitting up in the bathtub he said, “Wow, that was a WEIRD trip!”
He got out of the tub and washed the remains of his burnt beard off of his face in the sink. Looking into the mirror he saw his bright pink skin and the jagged scar from the IED, and it looked … just like a unicorn! He glanced at the remains of the spaghetti on the toilet, and saw a few strands slithering away. Looking back at his face in the mirror, he saw his sister’s eyes looking back at him.
“Remember! And do your duty!” she said in his head.
Someone was pounding on the door. He unlocked it and opened it. Officer Korbin and the corporal and private were there, looking very worried. “We heard screaming. Are you alright?” they asked him.
“Never better. I’m on a mission from Her Ladyship now. I’ll tell you more later, but first there is something urgent that I have to do.” He brushed past them, barged down the stairs to the kitchen. Opening the pantry doors he took his pump shot gun and blasted away at the shelf that still held five cans of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs. As the smoke and tomato sauce settled he shouted back up the stairs, “All clear!”
Last edited by Scot; Mon, 6th Dec '10 at 3:37am.
|Tue, 7th Dec '10, 4:58pm||#53|
Latest gem: Sunstone
Join Date: May 2010
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"Ladyship? Things just have to get more complicated, don't they..." The younger of the two boys shook his head as the man moved forward past all of them. He thought he was going to blast the head of some of the undead, but instead he blasted through cans of spaghetti... Complicated, was not the best adjective to be used in this current moment in time.
As Locke ran forward trying to hold the man, he noticed something flashed by the nearest window. He took a step back from it as he readied his weapon... "Guys, I think we've got company..."
|Wed, 8th Dec '10, 2:28am||#54|
The Small One
"Company? Where?" Mitch asked as a human form smashed through the window over the sink. It flew through the window in a ball, crashing to the floor and rolling before getting up. Mitch pumped his shotgun and fired as the red eyed zombie charge him, but he had used all his rounds blowing away the cans of spaghetti and meatballs. He barely managed to get the shotgun up to block the zombie as it drove it's teeth toward Mitch's throat. It bit the barrel of the shotgun and Mitch fell onto the counter. It was insanely strong, "Destroy it!" Mitch yelled as he struggled to keep it's teeth away from his flesh.
|Wed, 22nd Feb '12, 5:37am||#55|
The Small One
A .44 roared six times, slapping the zombie back to the wall then blowing it's head apart.
"That takes care of th.." Officer Korbin said as a zombie slammed into her. "Crap they're freaking everywhere!" Mitch heard one of the boys yell before more shooting commenced.
"Run brother!" his baby sister said in his mind. "All is lost here but you must not be vanquished!" Mitch had never run from a fight in his life, but he threw himself out the broken window and ran. Over a fence, behind the barn, through a cow pasture as the shooting continued from the house, first intensifying with a clip emptying burst, then abruptly stopping. Mitch was in a small woods now, not far from a road. He had left Baby in the house, plus all the other guns there. All he had was his knife. To top it all off he had abandoned his comrades and run like a coward! Disgraceful, for shame. He spit out the bitter after taste of vomit that lingered in his mouth.
"What kind of man are you Mitch?" he asked himself. "Get back there and see if the Officer and those boys need your help." He started moving, but then his knees started shaking and he fell to the ground.
"Get up," he hissed to himself, but then he heard something from the direction of the road.