| Welcome to my worried world of wonderful wickedness. | |||||||||||||||||||
| Strange things will be placed here in time. | An area no one owns but the owner himself. And even he is controlled. | ||||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||||
|
Split Nightmare of reality By: Jonathan G. Benson Clifton was standing in total darkness. His small gaunt body was fatigued by something unknown to him yet. Everything within his peripheral vision was blurred beyond recognition. Something was forcing his body to go on. And then he realized it. As Clifotn's embodyment moved towards the corner of what appeared to be a strange cylindrical object, standing in as a sorry excuse for a piller, he heard a strange murmering sound. As if someone was screaming with a pillow rested upon their face. As the dream curved him forcefully around the corner it called out again. With suprising strength, the voice was practically screaming at him. Like a wave of invisible, luke-warm water the soundwave hit him. "Clif! Clifton! Clifton! Clifton Delange! Clifton Delange! Clifton Delange!" The eerie voice echoed through out the strange Spanish decorated hallways. Clifton's head was now emerged in the pain of a massive migrane. Converging with the constant chants of his name over and over again. He soon found himself on his knees. As he reached up to cover his ears the sound grew with ferocity, increasing the pain in his skull. Clifotn was now in such a gruesome possition that he fell to the floor with his arms extending forward. Almost passed out with pain, Clifton began to crawl aroudn the corner. he had to see from where the awful noise was coming from. He recognized the voice but it was very distorted. As he reached up and grabbed onto the piller on the next hallway intersection, it began to ripple, like water ripple after a single rain drop hits it's surface. Suddenly a line began to carve into the stone as if some invisible force were using carving tools of old. A somewhat jagged line it was, stretching some 6 inches from one side to the other. It opened like a gigantic mouth, and spewed forth air like some wretched beast's mouth. The piller's breath smelled of some wretched odor, similar to the decay of a body. Suddenly the hallway he had been in grew dim. This made clifotn almost forget the screaming, had it not increased its intensity. Two eye like shapes formed above what appeared to be a mouth and opened wide. With some luminecent glow they peered downward and the piller bent over a little. Laying on the floor with curiosity as well as being petrified by fear Clifton was one in away form this horrid nightmare creature. Then, it inhaled like the front end of a harrier jet and moved as close to Clifton as possible without touching him. Suddenly like a bat out of hell it screamed at Clifotn with an outrageous power. The sheer blow of the air force rolled Clifton over and then the blast from the deep, rich, and imense voice of the illusion forced Clifton's body to faint due to the immense pain. He awoke against the opposite wall, dizzily staggering to get to his feet. The voice came back as he stood up, he looked at the piller and the face that was carved there didn't open up and scream again, but instead smiled at him. He turned the corner of the four way hallway intersection and spotted something unusual. A young girl was standing at the end of it. He recognized as none only than his daughter.Beautiful and full of life. Yet her eyes were filled with sorrow now. The as rapid his visions came to him they changed. He went from that wicked, dully lit hallway to a bright party on a grass lawn. "Geraldine. My name is Geraldine O'Toole. I am from Dublin, Ireland. Pleasure to meet you sir." A sweet but somewhat sorrowed voice called out to him. A pale white hand extended and without thinking anything of it Clifton extended his and pulled the hand close to his face and kissed it. Smelling the sweet cent of roses all about it. Then the body he was inhabiting looked up and noticed a small girl. She looked the age of 21. her pristine, crystal blue eyes looked into and through his soul. Her eyes flashed gray and her pupils flashed red. "You will be alright my dear." A voice shrouded by whispering called out to him. He looked around and everything started to become dark. The color was fading and he was beginning to grow weary. His physical presence was weak and he was forced to sit down. He looked around once more and realized something. These weren't normal people at a party. Upon their backs he could see ID numbers and the words "Geraldine's Criminaly Insane Recooperation Center" written in small letters. At that moment a body rushed by him, jabbing him very forcfuly with a needle. Then someone spoke as two people in long white lab coats approched him. "Come now Mr. delange. You and I both know it of no avail to resist. They have already injected the test virus." Clifton fell to the grass lawn without being able to fight the force pushing him down. His world went black and then he looked up. Drowsy and barley able to keep his eyes open he tried focusing upon what looked to be a sign. The sign he read on a fog covered bay read, "Penn Bay". The ownership designated it to "Terrence Penn-Whitney" which was lettered in small but easily noticeable letters. His world went dark again and he felt as if he were on land now. Clifton awoke on a shore filled with gravestones. It looked somewhat like the area that he had been approching in the boat. then some incredible force was making the body he had controled move. He had no choice and was forced to go forward into the deafening mists. A single large gravestone confined to the center of the fog walls stuck out. Upon the gravestone the words "Terrence Penn-Whitney" were carved deeply into the granite stone. Protruding from the front of the gravestone a hand jumped out from the sand and then an emerging body perfectly preserved in its original form. The body withdrew a sword and then floated towards Clifton. Upon the body's clothing was many a badge. One labeled "Penn-Whitney", labeled in gold. Penn drew back the sword and began to swing. At that moment Clifton fell again. The sword had missed striking his head. And then an eerie voice that seemed to be originating from the floating body eminated outward quietly. It was deep and horass as if it had not been wet for many many years. "It may not have been your fault that you killed me Clifton. But..." The voice suddenly tappered off into the mist as it became increasingly thick. The fog was now so thick that Clifton, litteraly, could not see the end of his nose. He struggled to find something in which there was security enough for hiding form the ghost. Nothing came, and then the fog began to grown dark. As if some black, thin liquid was now drowning him. He began to have trouble breathing and was gaining in dizzyness when a breeze that smelt like the ocean began to blow away the fog. He was transferred to large ship of some sort. It was bright out, the sun gleaming off of a bay looking area. And endless ocean just outside of the bay's arm's reach. Clifotn turned aorund and there was a medevil type of port behind him. He looked down and seen people generally of black colored skin being shuffled into a room below deck. "Down with you scum!" A harsh voice cried. It was the voice of a woman. She drew her flintlock and then pointed and shot. Killing one man with a shot to the head. Splattering his now smoldering brains upon chained people next to the poor soul. They would now be infected with his diseases and die soon after that incident. Not a single soul there was safe from disease. "Hildegrad Stanton?" A shallow and semi-frightened voice called out in search of an answer. The tall and Celtic dressed female captain turned to the person calling her name. Hildegrad withdrew a sword and hacked off the small insignificant child's head. The blood spurted onto Clifton which had been standing directly adjacent to Hildegrad and only 10 feet from her. She began to chop at Clifton when a sword was drawn. Another soldier had come to battle with her. He was abruptly stopped by a lead bullet from a gaurd's musket. "Who the hell are you!?" A voice boomed with anger, "Speak now soldier or die trying coward!" It rang towards Clifton's direction. "My name is Clifton. Clifotn Delange." "You must be the navigator they sent us. Good! It's about damn time! Welcome aboard and make yourself at home with the rest of these blood sucking maggots." It was her. He recognized her immediatley after taking an order from her. Hildegrad was an old girlfriend in highschool that had always ordered Clifton around. She abruptley dissapeared one day. blood was found in Clifton's room but no other evidence, Clifton was dismissed by the court and the jury. The ship left the dock shortly and after a day of sailing they reached some strange smelling area. The sky was silver with mist reflecting off of the sun's rays. Hildegrad stepped out from the captain's lounge and handed Clifotn a compass. "Its your turn you worthless, filthy, piece of..." Hildegrad's voice tappered off as one of the crew men screamed out in horror. "Its the edge of the world! We are all condemed to hell! The force of the falling water is too strong!" The crew men began to scatter along the deck, when Hildegrad looked at clifton with rage. Clifton looked out from the starboard bow and looked down. There was indeed a massive waterfall about 16 meters in front of them. Due to the thick mist they could not detect it. The yelling had blocke dout the sound of it. He looked to the side and he could see the oars now viciously rowing. Rowing for their dear lives. As the ship began to merge from the top of the waterfall Clifton held on for saftey. The ship was now approaching almost halfway over the waterfall. When his grip loosened he fell forwards and all of his dead wieght smashed into the railing at the very front of the ship. The massive ship fell and like a boulder it went crashing downward. Screams of terror could be heard. The creaking old celtic ship was falling like an anchor and Clifton was underneath of it. Pinned to the front by velocity and air currents. He couldn't move as he looked downward he could see a massive pool of water approaching at what seemed to be the speed of light. Clifont fainted a split second before the ship touched the surface of the water. He awoke standing up in a fancy tuxedo made of what seemed to be silk and polyester. He looked aorund the room as a middle aged woman approached him and extended her hand in a snob like manner. Expecting Clifton to kiss it with delight and honor. clifotn recognized her face immediatley. It was his soon to be wife. He really didnt like her and the only reaosn they hadnt married yet was due to her snobishness. "Madame Zorzinsky. That?s my name; don't wear it out. I do not like it when my good fellows do that. 'Tis annoying to me soldier." Her stout, shrieking voice shocked Clifton's system of hearing. Suddenly everything turned to the blood red color. The heat was increasing and Clifotn began to sweat. He looked at his feet with lightheadedness and stared at a single rock. strangley enough the rock looked back at him and growled. Then it screamed as its eyes moved to the side of Clifton, shortly after that it dissappeared out of sight. Clifton turned aorund slowly and there was his feonce again. Thats when it became hot enough that Clifton's tuxedo was now fusing upon his skin. He could smell a combination of melting polyester, burning silk, and his own flesh. And upon the invisble floor his shoes where melting to what seemed to be nothing. "Your an asinine creature to listen to. Please get out of my face before I shoot you like before. I will destroy you and all of your friends in a heartbeat. Just like last time and the time before. I know you mistress. You make these nightmares alive!" Clifton yelled at the top of his lungs. He stared at Madame with great anger. Fearing that he would burn to death before she said another word. Fearing that he would perish in his own nightmares. He looked her straight in the eyes as he was fusing to the invisble floor, and reached out and grabbed her by the throat. A knife suddenly appeared in his left hand and he extended his arm with all of his might. She shrieked sharply and began to speak as she was bleeding through a pearl white dress. Madame's only words were, "Welcome to the shores of Murph." Clifton awoke this time in his bed, shivering and sweating at the same time. He began to contemplate the cituation. Now standing up he flicked on the light switch. He stood there in silence for a moment and stared at the pictures on the wall. All those he liked he had killed. His daughter, sister, and brother. The only person he had left was his soon to be wife. He remembered what they had taught him to forget. Murph was Clifton Delange's second personality. Clifton turned aorund and his eyes opened wide with terror. The room was getting being covered with black smoke as he stared at where he dreamed of all that terror. His pheonce, laying on his bed, was covered with blood. Protruding from her belly was a long kitchen knife. He could tell she struggled because of the blood all over her body. She had apparently rolled quite a bit. Clifton looked at his hands. "WHAT HAVE I DONE!?" His voice echoed through the countryside. He had just noticed that there was blood layering over his skin. Still wet. More fresh that the smoke. He stared aorund the room and he noticed a candle had dropped onto the floor. The drapes had caught on fire and now the house was burning. Clifton ran out into the countryside due to his fear. Murph suddenly entered Clifton?s mind and over powered him. He left the house fully ready to kill again. Murph had grabbed a gun and one of Clifton's antique swords off of the fireplace mantle. Murph had far too much power over Clifton. No one ever found out about the deaths, because no one in a countryside cares. Murph was now free. Maybe he would kill someone else's family this time. Maybe Murph would kill itself and take Clifton Delange with him. Still sitting in the back of Murph's mind lays Clifton: curled into the phetal possition, shaking with fear of Murph. | For the moment being I only have one story to keep those who are willing to read it busy. | ||||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||||
| My interests: | My Interests are umong the strange also. I would prefer conversation or e-mail as opposed to letting everyone know about me without getting to know them. | ||||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||||
| Favorite Links | ||||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||||