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Fallen pt. 2Blackness. All there had been was blackness. No sound. No feeling. No smell. Nothing. I had finally thought that I had met the end, freezing cold, unable to move because my very blood was thickening and turning into nothing but sludge in my veins, and sliding away. I hadn't really cared though, I was still too drunk to even notice. Why should I? I was just another junky dying by myself, no connections in this world, no one to leave behind, no one who would miss me, and nothing to care about when I was gone.
But then this warmth began filling me, flowing into my body and spreading all the way from my toes to the tips of my fingers as it pulled me back, leaving the darkness behind as I heard my heart start beating again. There were hands touching me, holding my waist tightly and gently cradling the back of my head as I gasped in a desperate breath, trying to fill my empty lungs again. I opened my eyes, looking straight up into the softest lilac colored orbs, looking back at me with such
Z-Day Pt.1"Shit," I gritted out, dragging myself back behind the dumpster as best I could. I could hear the groans of the few remaining undead getting closer as their shuffling steps approached. My trembling fingers loaded more bullets into my only chance of surviving this attack, desperately begging my fingers to steady themselves as the bullet slipped from them again. I frantically wiped my hand against my shirt, trying to clean the blood off my fingers so I could actually hold onto the bullets I needed. The burning feeling was making its way steadily up my left arm, almost worthless to me now as I slipped in the last bullet and pulled the useless limb in close to me.
The shuffling was so close now I could smell the decay wafting off the mangled bodies, peeking around the corner to see that I was right. There were five more of the disgusting creatures lumbering their way toward me, and two who had stopped to begin tearing into the freshly dead bodies on the street. I grimaced, bracing myself a
Z-Day Pt.2This was strange. I was warm. Something that I haven't felt in months paired with such softness that I began thinking that maybe I hadn't made it out of that alley. Maybe I had been ripped apart by those monsters like the rest of my friends and this was that happy afterlife that I had heard so much about. Was I floating on a cloud somewhere like I had been told I would when I was little? Or was I somewhere much hotter than that, the reason for the warmth? Well, whatever it was, it sure was comfortable.
"Hey, you awake?" I heard, a warm hand on my shoulder gently shaking me. I opened my eyes, recognizing that voice and searching for the one who was speaking. The first thing that my eyes met when they opened though, was the barrel of a gun, pointed straight at my forehead.
"W-What the fuck!" I cried, panicking and scrambling backward until my back hit the wall, looking around trying to take in my new surroundings.
The room was dim, widows covered in the newest trend of two by fours
52. Too LateI woke up when I felt the mattress dip next to me, mind still foggy as I tried to figure out just what it was that was so warm next to me. I faintly felt the comforter moving around, sliding over my skin as the something lifted them up, letting in a gust of cold air before it snuggled in close to me. The chill was immediately replaced with radiating heat, the something fitting itself against me with a soft sigh.
I cracked an eye open, just enough to see through the dark and look down at the something that had made itself at home right against me in the way that only one person ever had. His head was resting on my arm, a hand finding mine as he wove his fingers with my own and pressed his back flush against my front, fitting even the curve of his bent legs along with mine.
"Silas," I murmured, leaning into his warmth and wrapping my other arm around his waist.
"Awake or sleep talking?" he asked softly.
"Awake now," I murmured, moving my head in close enough that I could nuzzle the back
84. UmbrellaIn the morning it's the promise that when I open my eyes I'll see him there. He'll be lying next to me, sometimes facing away so that all I can see is a tuff of black hair peeking out from beneath a cocoon of blankets, the soft cotton tee shirt sporting one of his favorite band's names or the perfect pale skin that covers his back. The other times he would be facing me, curled up close to me, his head pillowed on my chest with an arm draped loosely over my waist. It's the thing that makes me want to wake up early, just so I can watch him sleep.
When he's not here it's the thing that makes me bust my ass all day in my studio. Different colors trail from the well used bristles, the extension of myself turning the once blank canvas into something completely different. Something alive before my very eyes, bursting with color. It's the hope that when he comes home and visits me in this space that I'm watching him carefully; just waiting to see that beautiful little flicker in his eyes that
7. AlleyIt's the second day straight of fog. Everywhere was choked in the soupy whiteness, so think that it was impossible to see more than half a block in any direction. It was almost like the town had been eaten by the strange weather, or we were floating on some cloud instead of being planted firmly on the Earth. Walking over the bridge to get home had honestly freaked me out too, the thick fog swallowing the water below and the sky above, leaving me in this strange eerie tunnel to nowhere. Once you got over the feeling of terror though, it was actually sort of cool.
But that's not really where I was trying to go with this.
In fact, it's just a little part of what I really wanted to write down because honestly, if I didn't finally get this down somewhere I would start thinking that it wasn't true myself, even though I'm living through it right now. I guess I'm just having a little trouble writing it out, considering that I was never really the writing type. It was a miracle that I even pass
77. Running AwayHe was dozing on the couch now, stretched out and snoring lightly after he had finished scarfing down his meal and leaving me to wash the heap of dishes he had left in his wake. After grumbling to myself for a while I had lapsed into thoughtful silence, thinking about what I was going to do next.
I knew that I couldn't just throw him out, but I couldn't really keep him here forever, could I? There had to be some way that I could get him to tell me why he ran away from home, and maybe if I could get him to tell me I could try and fix the problem. But he was so secretive, so jumpy, so distrusting I didn't know if there was even a way that I would be able to get him to open up enough that I would be able to so much as get the reason. What if I offended him and he stopped communicating with me? What if I pressed him to hard and he took off? And what if I did learn the reason? Would it be horrible? Dark? Or just another stupid teen reason like not getting to borrow the car to go out with fr
76. Under the Stars"Ouch! God damn it!" I cried, stopping and bending over to make sure I hadn't broken my toe on the foot of the couch.
"You okay?" I heard next to me, a lighter snapping in the darkness next to me as Finn's face appeared in the candle light.
"I fucking hate storms okay? I hate them!" I fumed, glaring past the flame into the darkness. "And when the power goes out I always end up stubbing my toes into the worst things!"
His hand appeared on my shoulder, pushing me lightly and guiding me past the furniture back to the chair I had been sitting in next to the window. I set the two glasses down on the little end table that had been moved in between them, a makeshift patio of sorts set up next to the large window. A storm had rolled in over the city, blocking out the moon and casting the entire sky in inky blackness. It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been for the power outage that swept over the city after a particularly large strike of lightning, something that made me pre
50. 50 PercentIt had to be some sort of obsession of his. There was no other way to really describe the way that Finn couldn't keep his hands off of me other than with that word. Obsession. Any time I was within at least ten feet of him, be it doing dishes, playing with Villain, or just lounging around the house. The moment that he crossed that invisible boundary that surrounded me he would always find his way to me, hands appearing on my body wherever he saw fit for that moment and disrupting my train of thought until he wandered away again.
It was a curious thing. Every time I heard his footsteps get closer I peeked up, watching for the moment where he would hit that line, turning almost mechanically toward me and repeating the same action over and over. Usually it was nothing more than an embrace, a kiss on the cheek or maybe the top of the head, or just a random touch on the shoulder that made me wonder if he was just checking that I was in fact there, that I was really real.
The strangest part
Joining Forces, Part 3 We headed out into the cold night, Jeff surveying the area while I made sure I had everything I needed in my pockets. A pen, Jeffs dagger, thirty five dollars, and a little hankerchief for cleaning my mask. I was very particular about it.
"So." Jeff started, "My old home is about three miles that way if we stick to the roads, but we'd have to move fast."
"Do we have any other options?" I didn't like that idea. Once the sun rose, people would be waking up, and seeing Jeff walking down your street while getting in the car to go to work really wouldn't go over well on too many different levels.
"Well, it's only a mile and a half if we cut through those woods, but if you're afraid I understand."
"You're kidding me. The woods is MY domain! Let's cut through."
After about fourty-five minutes, we were there. An old, run down looking house in the middle of a sleeping neighborhood.
"Come on!" Jeff said, excited. He ran to the house, me tagging along nervously after him. He
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More