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Subject: Wake
Author: Viola Eponine   (Authenticated as Saffine Grace)
Date: November 3, 2012 at 5:02:58 PM
Reply to: Horror Story Prompt Game by Billina
Eyes open. Eyes closed. Eyes open again.

The reality of this is that it can't be real. It just can't.

He doesn't remember how he got here. But there is a gun in his hand and his ears are still ringing from the sound of the shot. Not one shot. Two. Three. More. God knows how many. The other man's shirt is blood-soaked.

The other man. The man on the rain-slick ground.

Ewan.

His grip goes slack and he drops the gun. It clatters hollowly on the pavement, and the sound seems far away. He shuts his eyes again, tightly, but when he opens them the scene is the same.

He doesn't know why -

Can't understand how he could -

But then, nothing makes sense in this place.

The whisperers have started up again, and this time, he does not look around to try and locate them. Their voices skitter over one another and he cannot make out the words, but he thinks he knows what they must be saying anyway.

Something touches his arm, and he starts, whipping around to find himself face to face with the sunken-eyed, paper-skinned old man who had watched him from across the street earlier, walking perfectly in step with him. He had not known how he could have possibly been keeping step with him, because the old man's steps had been slow and torpid, and reminded him of the languorous, rhythmic chiming of a grandfather clock, and he himself had been running.

"You're already hoping the guilt will pass," says the old man, in a dry, ridged voice that is at once alien and horribly familiar, "But it won't. It will follow you everywhere, every day, for the rest of your life."

The young man stares back at him, one pair of brown eyes into another.

"How can you know that?"

There is the briefest of pauses before the old man answers.

"Because," he says, his voice full of the falter brought on by age, "I am you."

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SOPHIE: BtN's resident whimsical insomniac fairytale-junkie!

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“Hope is the thing with feathers"
-----Emily Dickinson

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This message was edited by the author on November 3, 2012 at 5:07:32 PM

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