Eleven of the clock

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    Trevlac
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    Eleven of the clock

    Post by Trevlac on Mon Jan 26, 2009 3:18 am

    It was only eleven o' clock. Julian was sleeping in his armchair by the fire, a book lay sprawled next to the chair with a hand dangling over it. His old, wrinkled brow furled under stark white hair as his mouth hung open. I was only eleven o' clock and he was just falling asleep. It was only eleven o' clock and the cat had not been out all day. The kitchen was in disarray and the parlor was dusty. It was only eleven o' clock and Julian was woken with a start.

    The sound of howling filled the room. Julian called "Who's there?" and leaped to his feet. The sound of howling filled the room. His cat slinked across the Persian rug and curled up on Julian's armchair. The sound of howling filled the room and Julian began to sob and cry out to please not harm him. The sound of howling filled the room and the door to his parlor burst open.

    The floorboards creaked softly. No one came in, the cat payed no mind, Julian whimpered and cowered near the bright flames dancing in the hearth, The floorboards creaked softly and Julian's eyes darted around in fear, desperately looking for what was surly stepping into the room. The cat was gone, it had either escaped or disappeared. Julian could not decide which at this time. The floorboards creaked softly. The window suddenly burst open and the red velvet curtains swirled with the storm outside.

    A flash of lightning illuminated the room. The fireplace went out. The enormous flames suddenly dispersed, leaving not a single ember behind. A flash of lightning illuminated the room. The rain beat down as heavily as Julian's tears. The rumbling of the thunder was the only thing louder than the rumbling of his sobs. A flash of lightning illuminated the room. Julian pounded the wooden floors with his fists. They thumped the dust that lay resting into small mote clouds. His attention turned to the window.

    A pair of eyes glared through the open window. Julian closed his own eyes but the image was burned into his mind. A pair of eyes glared through the open window. He felt like he would go mad, he could no longer see anything but the eyes, hear anything but the soft creaking, sense anything but the flash of lightning. A pair of eyes glared through the open window. Julian turned to the open door of the parlor and crawled, sobbing, on his hands and knees toward it.

    It was only eleven o' clock. Julian reached the doorway slowly, his old bones couldn't move as quickly as in his youth. It was only eleven o' clock. A pair of eyes glared through the open window. A flash of lightning illuminated the room. The sound of howling filled the room. The floorboards creaked softly. There was a white light.

    A voice called out "He's been like this for hours." and the floorboards creaked softly. The voice said again "We think he is ill." a flash of lightning illuminated the room. "He just keeps repeating the same things over and over." The sound of howling filled the room. "His vitals are normal but he only lays curled in that position" A pair of eyes glared through the open window. "He keeps muttering to himself." It was only eleven o' clock.


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    Ordin
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    Re: Eleven of the clock

    Post by Ordin on Thu Jan 29, 2009 5:46 pm

    Oh my god no. Fuck you, Davis. Fuck you. You know I'm phobic of time loops. Christ, this would be the most horrifying thing ever.

    Time loops drain so much of your energy. It's like it takes every fiber of your being to stay sane and focused, all the while your mind blurs at the speed of light, trying to comprehend what's happening.

    It feels like the dimension we live on is a colander, matter is the spaghetti, and you're the water being pulled slowly through with split-second flips of the chef's wrist for all eternity.

    Fuck. You.


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