The Dark Chapter 3

As Scott's hand approached Ted's shoulder, he involuntarily froze. All motion and sound around him ceased. The cars on the street stopped in their places, and all conversation stopped. One by one, heads turned in to face Scott as he stood helplessly frozen in his tracks. They all seemed to stare through him as if he didn't exist; as if he was some kind of void. Then he saw what they were looking at. Ted. Ted turned to face Scott, and what Scott saw, he would never forget. Ted's face had been horribly disfigured, as if it had been burned by an incinerator. The only problem was, he was smiling. Or at least appeared to be smiling. Scott swallowed and said "What is this, some kind of practical joke?" No one answered. Then Ted laughed. Not laughed, screamed. Maybe both. "Do you really think this is a game?" he said as he laughed. Scott just stared in horror. "Maybe you are right, maybe this is a game! The kind of game where I hunt you down, and you run like a scared child! Sound like fun?" More laughing. Then something changed. Scott, still frozen in place, felt a chill run down his spine. Ted's face began to twist into a shape that Scott didn't think was possible. "You will succumb to me! You will be mine, do you understand? This is a game that you cannot win, because YOU ARE MINE!" With that, The face that no longer looked like Ted at all burst into flames and let out a wail. "You better start running!" it said with a horrible cackle. Scott realized that he was no longer frozen in place, so he did exactly that. He ran. The day was no longer bright and clear; the sky was black, but not with cloud cover. He didn't have time to think about it. He ran back to his house, hearing that "thing" screeching all the way home. As soon as he got through his door, he slammed it shut and locked it. He gasped as he leaned against the door and tried to catch his breath. There, he was in the house with the door locked. All is well now. But something told him all was not well. Something told him to go into his bedroom. He felt a familiar tingle run down his spine as he approached the door. He slowly pushed the door open dreading what he would see next, but not knowing why. What he saw next made him freeze in his place again, but for an entirely different reason.

The Dark Chaper 2

He looked from his vantage point. Things were going exactly as planned. Soon this one would be his too. He laughed to himself, yes, this one he would have some fun with. That was the game, wasn't it? To take the victim without a fight is no fun; there must be contest, there must be resolve. There must be climax. He would definitly get this one. Not without contest, not without resolve, for that was the point. Yes, this one would be fun.

The Dark Chapter 1

Scott opened his eyes to light streaming in his window. "Not already!" he thought as he rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept well last night...or the past few nights, come to think of it. "What is it?" he wondered subconsciously as he got up and streched. "Never mind, im sure it was just a dream." He stood and padded into the bathroom. 23 years old, six feet tall, and lean, with short dark hair. His reflection. He looked each morning, hoping to see some change for the better. He never did like what he saw. Not for the last two weeks anyway. "No matter, " he thought "looks aren't what count in the end anyway!" But he wasn't reassured. He never was. "It must have somting to do with those dreams, or whatever they are!" he thought aloud. Yes, they had been causing him much grief lately, and today he intended to find out what. After the "dreams" started two weeks ago, Scott called and set up an appointment with a counselor, upon the suggestion of a friend. He had argued vehemently against it at the time, but in the end, he saw no other alternative. Hi figured that atleast they could tell him he was insane. "Wouldn't that be great!" he thought. "Then I could just pretend whatever I wanted!!" He sighed. "Insanity would be a perfect explaination for me right now. Oh well, that probably isn't the case, so I better act like a sane person and get ready." He looked at the hastily sctratched out appointment card. It read: "10:00am Tuesday May 12th, Dr. Payne." "Dr. Payne, huh?" He was looking at his appointment slip. "Sounds like he should be doing somthing more like open heart surgery!" He laughed to himself at the thought. The whole time these thoughts were taking place he was getting his breakfast and getting ready to go. He left the house, #104 on Sycamore Lane, at 9:45, and began walking toward the "counseling center" or whatever it was called. He walked passed his neighbor, David Franz's house and waved as he passed. "Funny," he thought. "Why didn't Dave say hello? He always greets me when I come out. Huh, maybe he's just having a rough day." He kept walking, but the unease kept growing. As he passed more and more people, none of them seemed to pay any attention to him. He was just beginning to worry when he saw his best friend, Ted Schaffer at the upcoming crosswalk. "Ted! Hey, Ted, over here!" He called. Ted nonchalently turned his head in Scott's direction and turned back to face the stoplight. "Maybe he just can't hear me" he thought as panic set in. He walke right up behind him and reached out to tap him on the shoulder. His hand however, never made contact.

The Dark Prologue

It was black. Pitch black. The wind was rustling the leaves nearby, but no other sound was to be heard. Not tonight. This was his night. His only chance to prove himself. The sensation of cold steel on his hands; the sensation of immenant death. He caressed the smooth, cool surface of his semi-auto nine millimeter; his constant companion. Tonight, they would work together yet again. Always differant, yet always the same. Nothing ever changed, he is what he is. What is he? He is The Dark.



104 SYCAMORE LANE
He crept carefully through the back yard, careful not to desturb anything. This had to be done with no trace left. He approached the door of the house. Locked. No matter, he pulled out his reproduced key and unlocked the door. So much for security. He paused-nothing to be heard inside, except the sound of the deep, rythmic breathing of a person deep in sleep. All the better. He approached he bedroom door cautiously, gun ready in his hand. He passed through and spotted the subject, the target lying in bed sleeping peacefully. Not for long. He placed his weapon to the head of his target and pulled the trigger. No sound but the soft phwt of a silenced weapon. No remorse, no guilt, no feeling whatsoever. He is The Dark, and this is what he does. The slow, rythmic breathing ceased with a long, slow exhale.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The beginning of all...

It is here that I hope to express myself through writing...the mood may be anywhere from ecstacy to depressed...im not sure how this will turn out...