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Showing posts with label Justin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Justin. Show all posts

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Ella habla espanol?

Hey everyone, I know that this week has been a little light on the posts. We're still trying to adjust a working schedule, so bear with us for awhile.

Anyways, today is Saturday, which means a new chapter of Ankoku no Ki. This week starts the story arch that will last till the end of the book, so I really hope you enjoy it. Anyways, tell me what you think

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Chapter 10:
Comenzemos Realidad

1.

            The year 2030 is when Rachel Edington’s story continues. A year has gone by since her escape from the secretive wing of Wright Patterson Airforce base in Ohio, USA. In that time, she managed to find transportation out of the United States—with the help of the German doctor, Friedrick Hartmann—and to Tokyo, Japan, the new capitol of the Republic of the Eastern Union. The war is taking a small toll on citizens of Japan, but life in the technologically advanced capitol is, for the most part, progressing as usual.
            Now dawns the time when you ask: “What’s next?” Well, simply stop asking such stupid fucking questions and start reading further down the page to find out.

2.

            “Why do we have to go to the market so often? I’m getting sores on the bottom of my feet from all this exercise,” groaned nineteen year-old Angela White as her and Justin Feldin stood in front of a refrigerated wall of soy products in a downtown Tokyo market.  Angela was a girl of medium height with lightly tanned skin. Her face was naturally pretty and worked to highlight her bright, light-green eyes without a trace of make-up. In two long braids her red orange hair draped past her shoulders and rested atop her breasts. Habitually her hands pulled softly at one of the braids as she waited for Justin to choose between several types of tofu.
            To the average passer-by, Angela was just another pretty girl who resembled the average Latina and really loved warm colors—literally, her entire wardrobe everyday consisted of a t-shirt and pants of either red, orange, or a combination of  both colors. To her circle of friends however, she was a person with a firry ambition to explore new things and a slight obsession with fire. Well, I guess “slight” is putting it lightly, especially since Angela loved everything about fire—its glow, its color, everything. At one time, the obsession had thrown her life as an orphan in Madrid, Spain into hot flames. (She had a pile of matches, gasoline, and a lighter. You do the math.) For a while she was even homeless. Luckily, times were quite different when she was relocated to Japan by a private interest group and met Justin, Rachel, and their three other roommates.
            Finally Justin decided on a type of tofu and placed the white block in the small basket hanging from his arm. “We wouldn’t have to if Yoshiro didn’t eat so much all day,” Justin replied with a slight bit of humor. “I swear, that kid eats so much food…I figure he would be as big as Huey by now.”
            “Well, it’s no surprise, considering how much he runs each day,” Angela snickered.
            “I guess.” Justin’s eyes replaced the case of soy products with Angela as their point of focus. Softly, he smiled at her. “I find that it’s best to not complain about it though.” She smiled back and let her right arm intertwine with his left.
            “How could I ever complain about spending time with you, Justin?” He laughed lightly before kissing her softly on the top of her head.
            “No sè, bonita.” Angela’s smile brightened as she pushed her body even closer to Justin. She always loved when he spoke Spanish to her.
            “Te adoro mi amor.” Together, they walked lightly to the other parts of the market to get the rest of the items on the shopping list they had been sent to complete. Never did either give up the comfort of the touch of the other.

3.

            “Alright, Rachel, just focus your energy into physical form. Picture a vine coming from your body, feel it beneath your skin, and then make it breach, just as we’ve been practicing. You can do in, mein liebe.” Dr. Hartmann coached Rachel as she meditated with crossed legs in the center of their minimalist Tokyo home—only a few blocks from the market at which Angela and Justin were shopping—in only a training bra and black sweat pants. For several months the doctor and Rachel had been trying to gain more control over Rachel’s abilities, while even discovering a few—such as her realized ability to sharpen a curved vine so much as to create a large scythe. (One day, I’ll tell you the gory stories behind such a realization, but for right now we’ll stick with Rachel’s training.) Several vines began to reach upwards toward the ceiling from her back and held stiff in the air, she smiled at the, now pleasurable, feeling of the sharp plants breaking out from beneath her skin. A side-effect of the training had definitely been to make a masochist of the once sweet and timid young woman.
            Her tightly closed eyes marked the level of her concentration as she attempted to envision what the vines should do before the action occurred. Two of the vines split, dividing into four smaller vines. Suddenly she opened her eyes with excitement. “I’m doing it!” she exclaimed. The vines shot back into her skin as soon as she lost her concentration. She shuddered hard in ecstasy with the feeling of the retreating plants. Hunching forward slightly, she tried to gain control of herself.
            “Y’know, that still creeps meh out a lil when ya do that,” joked a chubby, dark-skinned kid of twenty named Huey Langstrom, who sat on the couch pretending to read Manga, but secretly paying more attention to Rachel’s training.
            “Shut up!” Rachel exclaimed sharply as she sat up in embarrassment. “You’re a creeper for watching me anyways!”
            “Sure, yell at the black kid, racist.” Huey laughed heartily. Like Justin and Rachel, Huey was from Ohio, but spent most of his time a few dozen miles south of their hometown, Monroeville. He was a child of the streets of Cincinnati, a city which grows more violent as I write these words. Huey’s mother died from complications at his birth, and his father—who couldn’t handle the stress of raising him and his three other brothers—put a colt .45 to his head and blew his brains out against their Over the Rhine apartment only a month later. As you can see, Huey never knew either of his parents, but his brothers—ages 10, 14, and 16 when he was born—all pulled together to help raise him. Their efforts eventually turned to illegal actions in order to keep the rent payments paid, but such was the only way that they could survive. Huey loved his brothers, but he always knew that what they did was wrong and wanted more out of life than they ever had to offer. This wanting led to actions that will be made clear very soon, but resulted in him being relocated to Japan by the same people as Angela.
            “Rachel, you need to lose concentration so easily,” Dr. Hartmann preached for the tenth time that week. “This training is meant to teach you that above all else.”
            “I know.” Rachel sighed. “It’s quite hard when I have a pervert like Huey watching me.” She glared in his direction.
            “Hey, don’t mind me. I’m just sitting her, catching up on my favorite comic.”
            “Oh really? Is that why you were reading the exact same thing the last time I was training?”
            “U-U-Ummmm…..” Huey stammered for words. “Huey’s not here right now, please leave a message after the beep…BEEEEPPP…”
            “Uh-huh, that’s what I thought, pervert.”
            “Now, Rachel, get focused. We must get to finishing this training if we are to locate the tree of darkness,” the doctor said, trying to get her back on task.
            “But,” she protested, “isn’t knowing that it’s somewhere in the Kanto region enough to just search blindly for it?”
            “You should know better than that, mein liebe. The door to the Tree could be anywhere from an inch wide to the size of an entire building—” Rachel groaned.
            “Fine, fine.” Once more, Rachel closed her eyes and tried to focus, but quickly her concentration was broken by the sound of the front door sliding open and the sound of Angela and Justin’s laughs filling the air.
            “We got the grub!” Justin yelled as he and his girlfriend entered the living room holding hands. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he said apologetically as his eyes fell upon Rachel, whose eyes were fixated on their hands.
            “No, it’s fine, you didn’t interrupt anything at all, Justin,” she said with a fake smile as a few vines started to squirm at the small of her back in response to her rising hatred for Angela. Justin wasn’t fooled by her cheesy smile and smartly released Angela’s hand. Of course, Angela looked at him in confusion for a moment before she got the memo and worked to change the subject.
            “Has Yoshiro or Melanie come back yet?” she asked Rachel, who still refused to speak to the girl whom she considered a home-wrecker at best.
            “No,” Huey answered, putting down his comics, “Yoshiro is somewhere searching for more information on the Ankoku no Ki legend, and I think Melanie is out with another guy.”
            “Isn’t that the fourth one this week?” Angela asked with a small sense of humor.
            “Yeah…but you know Mel, always looking for a good time with the guys.” They both laughed, while Rachel stood up and started to walk away. Justin tried to pretend not to notice.
            “I’ll be in my room,” Rachel said with an undertone of anger. “Don’t bother me unless another person comes to kill me.” Soon, she was out of sight and in the next room over. An awkward moment passed before Angela took the groceries from Justin and walked to the fridge in the next room to put them away.
“I believe she will need help,” Dr. Hartmann smiled and followed Angela into the next room.
            “Dude,” Huey said to Justin, who simply stood in the shame of making his best friend so irritated at his presence. “You know, if you make her any angrier, you’re likely to get your balls sliced off by those vines, or something.”
            “What can I do?” Justin asked, sympathetically. “I can’t please everyone…” he sighed.
            “I guess, but kudos on bagging the hot, Hispanic chick by the way. I know you guys’ve been goin’ out for about a couple months or something, but I’m still surprised you pulled it off without her setting your junk on fire.” Huey laughed, returning to his comics. Justin smirked, inching himself in the direction of Rachel’s room.
            “You honestly wouldn’t believe how hard it was to stop her. She really loves fire.” They both laughed—Justin’s laugh being hollow, with only thoughts about the pain Rachel felt.

Fate drives us.
~Alex

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Beauty, Like the Girl of My Dreams.


Alex here, with your daily dose of Fiction.

All of this week, the Life In Fiction writers have brought you stories and poems about the happier end of life's limitless spectrum. Unfortunately, I'm going to be the first to break the trend, mainly due to the fact that it would take a demented mind like mine to find the following story happy.





Last week I introduced you all to Life In Fiction's first weekly series, entitled Ankoku no Ki. For those of you who didn't read the first chapter, it'd probably be good if you did (says the author who wants everyone to read his writing). In all seriousness, last week was but a taste of what's to come, and an introduction to the general mood of the piece and, casually, its main character Rachel Edington, a girl from Monroeville, Ohio attending The Ohio State University.
This week I bring you the beginning of the mental thriller that will beckon you each week to come back for more. So, without further ado, here is the Ankoku no Ki: Chapter 2.

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Chapter 2

Philosophy

Columbus, Ohio was a nice place to be in the hectic months of fall. Of course, this was not because of the weather—except for cases like Rachel, where more cold meant more fun. No, Columbus simply had a brisk air that made the soul livelier for no particular reason. Many often wondered if it were the reason why their football team, the Buckeyes, often did so well. None of that truly mattered though, at least not with the hint of hostility floating through the air.

“Man, I love this time of year!” Rachel thought aloud while inhaling a massive amount of the crisp, November air she loved so deeply. A loose, light-green cardigan partially covered a gray tee shirt with a large, green Kanji symbol—which translated to “tree” in English—printed over the middle of her breast line. The sleeves of the cardigan were soft against the cream-white skin of her arms. The knitted jacket partially allowed for her skin to feel the gentle touch of her long, auburn hair as it moved back in forth in a casual response to the morning breeze. Two black and white hair clips just above both of her ears restrained her hair from touching the soft skin of her face. Her warm smile complimented her captivatingly clear-blue eyes as they viewed the leafy terrain of The Ohio State University’s campus.

Ten minutes had passed since she left her dormitory. Then, the time had been 9:45 a.m. She knew that not hurrying meant that she could be late to her 10:00 a.m. class, World Philosophy.

“Hiyaa!” she yelled joyfully as she jumped into a small pile of raked leaves, forgetting about her deadline. Such an action was a compulsion for her. Every time she’d see a pile of leaves, she would let her childishness kick in and jump into it with glee. She was a sophomore in college, yet the end of the day would still show dirt on her pants from playing outside. On days similar to this, she’d combat the inevitable filth with her brown pants with floral patterns on the pockets that matched the earthy, cloth belt she wore frequently.

“HIYAA!!” She launched into another pile of leaves with a large smile on her face, but instead of continuing on her path as usual she stood where she landed. Her eyes connected with a large oak tree only a few feet in front of her. The cheerful smile she had once wore slowly faded as images of the previous night’s dream flashed before her eyes.

I’ve had that same dream five times now. Every time, it gets more vivid. Every time, I wake up wondering what it all means. She sighed deeply. What could it mean? Staring down at her hands, she wondered if vines would crawl out from below her skin. For a split second, she thought she might have felt something crawl across the inside of the palm of her hand, but the sight was gone as fast as it had come. Did I really just see that? No, impossible…

“Hey, Rach!” A young man’s voice broke through her concentration. She looked at the tall, young man in a dark-brown sweater and black denim jeans, to match his dark hair and tan skin, as he waved from the front of the building where her class was held. “You’re going to be late!” he yelled again. “Are you coming or what?”

“Oh, keep your pants on, Justin!” she yelled back in the casual British accent she had adopted from her parents. Softly, the wind pushed against her face as she jogged towards him.

“Aww,” he pouted, “I so wanted to take them off.”

“You’re so weird…” With another sigh, she shook her head and stopped in front of him.

“Isn’t that why you love me so much?” He grinned sarcastically. Rachel giggled in response.

“You wish buddy. Now, c’mon we’re both going to be late if we never go inside.” After winking at him, she walked through the door of the building into a long, dimly-lit hallway with Justin at her heels. Hopefully it was all just a dream… Justin passed by her and opened the door to the classroom.

“After you, m’lady,” he said with a faux British accent.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” she responded, letting her own get momentarily thicker. With a small curtsy and a smile, she stepped inside the classroom. Dr. Agasa—a short, lean Japanese man with an onary personality—had already begun lecturing his small classroom of students.

“Always remember class,” he said in the tone of a light Japanese accent, “nothing is ever ‘just a dream.’”

“What?!” Rachel blurted out thoughtlessly. What did he just say?? The entire classroom’s eyes, including the professor’s, shifted to Rachel and Justin standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Edington,” Dr. Agasa addressed Rachel. “It’s so nice of you to join us. And I see you’ve brought Feldin with you.” Justin waved sarcastically at the short man who addressed them with increasing malice.

“Sorry, Dr. Agasa. We were late—I-I mean,” she changed her mind immediately, “I was late. You see, I have to make this huge walk all the way across campus and Justin—”

“No excuse!” Agasa yelled in an even thicker Japanese accent. “It’s the middle of the semester and your schedule should already be planned accordingly. You have no excuse to be late!”

“But, Dr. Agasa!—” A sudden pain shot down her right arm, a sensation mirroring the one she had felt in her dream before the vines crawled through her skin. She attempted to ignore it. Dr. Agasa had never been anyone’s favorite teacher. Such a fact was clear by the way he treated his students.

“I said, ‘No Excuse!’” he yelled even louder. Another pain shot down her left arm, this time it lingered a bit longer. She gripped her arm, unable to ignore the pain.

What is this?

“—NO EXCUSE!!” he interrupted, continuing his rant. A bolt of sensation shot violently across her breasts. She fell to her knees, her eyes fixated on the tiled floor below. “I WILL ACCEPT NO LAZINESS IN MY CLASSROOM!!!!!”

“Please…stop…” she murmured breathlessly.

“Rach, are you okay?” Justin asked soothingly. She could feel something moving beneath her skin.

“Get up Edington! I will accept no sleeping in my classroom!” Mr. Agasa’s voice began to fade, along with the world around her. Nothing existed any longer. Her existence was even brought into question, until the wriggling beneath her skin grew in intensity. Faster and faster, the objects pushed upwards on her skin in a rhythmic beat.

They want to get out… They want freedom… They pushed harder and the pain she felt intensified. Such pain was unbearable. Gritting her teeth, she stifled a scream. They pushed harder. No, I can’t scream. They want me to scream. I shouldn’t scream— The writhing objects pushed harder until one of them finally broke through the skin on the bottom of her right wrist. She loosened a horrific shriek from the depths of her diaphragm. All at once, the classroom, Justin, and Dr. Agasa all came back at once, replacing the void she had been trapped in. her shriek shook the concrete walls of the classroom as everyone stared at her in horror. A sleek, thorny vine jutted out from the flesh on the bottom of her wrist, causing reflective drops of crimson to fall onto the tiled floor she kneeled upon. Suddenly, she stopped screaming and her head drooped once more.

“Are you okay?” Justin asked once more. With a comforting hand, he touched her shoulder. Immediately, as he came into contact with her body, her head raised and she opened her eyes to the sight of Dr. Agasa. Both of her innocent eyes had faded into pitch dark pits that made secret the location of her pupils. Slowly, she raised herself off of the ground, her right hand bleeding profusely as it gripped the long, dangerous vine her wrist had produced. Justin removed his hand and jumped back slightly. “Rachel?” he asked shakily. Slowly, she walked forward.

“Y’know, Dr. Agasa,” a thick cockney accent filled her no longer sweet voice, “it’s quite ironic that you don’t allow excuses in your classroom.” She smiled devilishly at the cowering Asian man that was diligently backing away from her.

“W-Why’s that?” His back hit the wall of the classroom. There was no where he could go and fear kept him from making a stand. She stopped directly in front of him, her face only centimeters from his, her sultry lips only millimeters from his ear.

“Because,” she whispered, “what will you have when I ask you why I shouldn’t kill you?” She smiled even wider before turning around and walking away as slowly as she had come. “What it comes down to, Dr. Agasa, is the fact that I don’t allow nimrods like you to keep their sorry-ass lives.” In one, fluid motion, Rachel jumped into the air, tipped her body at a 60 degree angle and spun 360 degrees in a counterclockwise motion. Only one rotation was needed to send her bloody vine ripping through the air and for it to make a diagonal slash clean through the doctor’s body. Crimson blood sprayed upwards and every other direction, leaving behind the gruesome trail of Rachel’s weapon. Her smile became more crooked as she landed and the spray showed in large drops upon her face. She tasted the death in Dr. Agasa’s blood.

Suddenly, the vine retreated into Rachel’s wrist, reopening its past entranceway. Once more, she loosened a horrific shriek that shook the walls. The pain forced her back to her knees in a crooked form. Her eyes bled black as they reverted to normal and her innocent blue eyes showed a sadder side of things.

Justin stared at the girl in front of him who was drenched in blood that she equally could and couldn’t claim ownership to. His eyes dashed back and forth between the mutilated body of Dr. Agasa and the, now sobbing, Rachel. The entirety of the on-lookers couldn’t help but do the same.

“Justin…” she whimpered sadly, her crystalline tears clearing the mixture of fluids that had sought refuge upon her face. Justin ran to console her.

“Rach, I don’t know what the hell just happened…” he confessed, “but we need to get out of here. Do you understand me?” She nodded like a child who is too distressed to say a singular word. “C’mon, we’ll go somewhere safer.” He helped her to stand and together they walked hurriedly out the door of the classroom with the shocked eyes of their classmates at their backs.

Nothing is ever just a dream…

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How did you like it? Leave all comments either on here, on Facebook, or my e-mail (brinque@msn.com). Remember, each week brings something new ;)
Well, that's all for this weeks post. Be sure to check Life In Fiction tomorrow for Free-Post Sunday in which Quinton will have something new to entertain your eyes, and I plan on posting my end of the week poem (which is actually pretty happy compared to the majority of my other works). Until next week, readers, oyasumi nasai.

Provehito in altum
~Alex