Post by The Dark Document on Jan 8, 2005 19:17:55 GMT -5
Title:The DArk Document (I'm thinking of chaning this)
Fandom/original: Original
Author/e-mail:Me. Book_bunny88@yahoo.com
Notes:I wrote this a bit ago and almost sent it to the scholastic thingy.....It's posted on my website, so it's not in proper style, but my other copy is on the hard drive at my school...soo.
As she sat at the computer, she blanked. How could she do this? How could she write something like this, when she had barely written anything before? Huff, she let out a tremendous sigh, ok, stop thinking, that's what ya got to do, she thought to her self. So she did. Turning on her headphones she let it low, the thoughts, the emotions, they were all there, waiting for her to release them. So she did. For hours she sat there, not thinking of anything but the flow, the train of images and feeling that came to her and traversed out her fingers to be typed on the page. She barely even acknowledged the fact that her parents had called her in for dinner. She just typed. This is what she had dreamed of doing the first time she read the flyer, this felt right to her. The sound of the keys brought to her the sound of sweet music. The light of the computer brought her into her role, she immersed her self in it. Reveling in her own thoughts, but yet, they weren’t quite her own, they seemed to have a spirit of their own. But she ignored that fact, instead she just typed. Hour’s later sleep brought her back; she had to rest, had to restore herself to type more beautiful thoughts and feelings. She went to bed. All night, thoughts infiltrated her dreams, things she did not know, did not recognize, things that were stranger than the stories of fantasy told when she was little. They scared her. But she could not escape them, they followed her, always the same distance behind her, she could never out run them, never hide from them, they would always be there, always trying to get her. She should surrender to them; she would always lose any ways. A part of her still fought them, but it would lose. They could wait forever, they weren’t going anywhere, they could be patient until she submitted. Besides, the chase was fun for them. The next morning she remembered nothing of her dreams, all she knew was the urge to type, she must continue, must reach the end of it, so that she could begin again. She headed to the computer, she brought up what should have been her work, but it was gone, all of her thoughts and emotions had been deleted. She must start again, this thought didn't bother her as much as it should have, typing was something that she now enjoyed, and typing was all she enjoyed. Typing would be her life! Again the day went as before, her doing nothing but typing, noticing nothing but typing. Typing was becoming her, her was becoming nothing. Both her parents tried to arouse her from the daze she was in, but neither could. Not even the arrival of her boyfriend brought any life too her, she just typed. Nothing could distract her; she must finish this today, because it wouldn't be there tomorrow. For days this went on, she did nothing but type, trying to finish her work before the end of the day, and sleep caught up on her, but she never did. Her parents and friends became more and more worried about her, nothing they did ever brought her out of her stupor, it was almost like was on something, except she never ate or drank anything. She had been wearing the same clothes since she began, she never left to even sleep anymore, she just fell asleep at her chair, waking up early and typing till she passed out. Everyday the same She was almost finished, she had one page to go, and then she e would be free, free from the things that tormented her, that forced her to finish, to complete her work, so that they may take her over once and for all. That was fine with her, she knew she wouldn't really be there when they got to her she would be else where, a place with out them, she would be free, free from all pain. She just had to finish this page and print it, then she could go, then she could leave. At last, she was done, she hit print, as soon as she did, and she collapsed. Both parents ran to her, to see what was wrong, to see why she had just collapsed from her chair. They had both been waiting beside her for days now, waiting for her to come back from where ever she was, to return to them from her inner world. When they got to her, they knew she would never be coming back, ever. She had collapsed because she had died. Her mother looked over at the printer when it started up, to see what she had printed before she perished. What she saw there horrified her. It was line after line of what looked to be a chant in some very strange language, one with out any vowels, or any other form or resemblance to the English language, or any other on this earth. There were pages of it to, at least a hundred, the printer was complaining about being out of paper, but this was a special one, designed for a mass print, how could it be out? What was it that had captured her daughter so much that she had been unable to do anything else but type it up for days? This was something she didn't think she would ever find out
Far from the place where she had collapsed, in an abandon house, a strange form arose, and smiled. Finally, he was free, free from that stupid box that had held him for years, free to destroy the world and all that had been safe. They put him in the box, and now they would pay. Now that the incantation had been rewritten, now he could conquer all, and make them grovel at his feet for mercy... and then he would kill them.
Fandom/original: Original
Author/e-mail:Me. Book_bunny88@yahoo.com
Notes:I wrote this a bit ago and almost sent it to the scholastic thingy.....It's posted on my website, so it's not in proper style, but my other copy is on the hard drive at my school...soo.
As she sat at the computer, she blanked. How could she do this? How could she write something like this, when she had barely written anything before? Huff, she let out a tremendous sigh, ok, stop thinking, that's what ya got to do, she thought to her self. So she did. Turning on her headphones she let it low, the thoughts, the emotions, they were all there, waiting for her to release them. So she did. For hours she sat there, not thinking of anything but the flow, the train of images and feeling that came to her and traversed out her fingers to be typed on the page. She barely even acknowledged the fact that her parents had called her in for dinner. She just typed. This is what she had dreamed of doing the first time she read the flyer, this felt right to her. The sound of the keys brought to her the sound of sweet music. The light of the computer brought her into her role, she immersed her self in it. Reveling in her own thoughts, but yet, they weren’t quite her own, they seemed to have a spirit of their own. But she ignored that fact, instead she just typed. Hour’s later sleep brought her back; she had to rest, had to restore herself to type more beautiful thoughts and feelings. She went to bed. All night, thoughts infiltrated her dreams, things she did not know, did not recognize, things that were stranger than the stories of fantasy told when she was little. They scared her. But she could not escape them, they followed her, always the same distance behind her, she could never out run them, never hide from them, they would always be there, always trying to get her. She should surrender to them; she would always lose any ways. A part of her still fought them, but it would lose. They could wait forever, they weren’t going anywhere, they could be patient until she submitted. Besides, the chase was fun for them. The next morning she remembered nothing of her dreams, all she knew was the urge to type, she must continue, must reach the end of it, so that she could begin again. She headed to the computer, she brought up what should have been her work, but it was gone, all of her thoughts and emotions had been deleted. She must start again, this thought didn't bother her as much as it should have, typing was something that she now enjoyed, and typing was all she enjoyed. Typing would be her life! Again the day went as before, her doing nothing but typing, noticing nothing but typing. Typing was becoming her, her was becoming nothing. Both her parents tried to arouse her from the daze she was in, but neither could. Not even the arrival of her boyfriend brought any life too her, she just typed. Nothing could distract her; she must finish this today, because it wouldn't be there tomorrow. For days this went on, she did nothing but type, trying to finish her work before the end of the day, and sleep caught up on her, but she never did. Her parents and friends became more and more worried about her, nothing they did ever brought her out of her stupor, it was almost like was on something, except she never ate or drank anything. She had been wearing the same clothes since she began, she never left to even sleep anymore, she just fell asleep at her chair, waking up early and typing till she passed out. Everyday the same She was almost finished, she had one page to go, and then she e would be free, free from the things that tormented her, that forced her to finish, to complete her work, so that they may take her over once and for all. That was fine with her, she knew she wouldn't really be there when they got to her she would be else where, a place with out them, she would be free, free from all pain. She just had to finish this page and print it, then she could go, then she could leave. At last, she was done, she hit print, as soon as she did, and she collapsed. Both parents ran to her, to see what was wrong, to see why she had just collapsed from her chair. They had both been waiting beside her for days now, waiting for her to come back from where ever she was, to return to them from her inner world. When they got to her, they knew she would never be coming back, ever. She had collapsed because she had died. Her mother looked over at the printer when it started up, to see what she had printed before she perished. What she saw there horrified her. It was line after line of what looked to be a chant in some very strange language, one with out any vowels, or any other form or resemblance to the English language, or any other on this earth. There were pages of it to, at least a hundred, the printer was complaining about being out of paper, but this was a special one, designed for a mass print, how could it be out? What was it that had captured her daughter so much that she had been unable to do anything else but type it up for days? This was something she didn't think she would ever find out
Far from the place where she had collapsed, in an abandon house, a strange form arose, and smiled. Finally, he was free, free from that stupid box that had held him for years, free to destroy the world and all that had been safe. They put him in the box, and now they would pay. Now that the incantation had been rewritten, now he could conquer all, and make them grovel at his feet for mercy... and then he would kill them.
