Don't like ads? PRO users don't see any ads ;-)

Book 1: Chapter Four - An Old Friend

By: Thelonious on May 27th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 8.88 KB | hits: 177 | expires: Never

download | raw | embed | report abuse | print

Text below is selected. Please press Ctrl+C to copy to your clipboard. (⌘+C on Mac)

>You pay little attention to the guards as you walk out.
>You're in a bit of a daze.
>They offer some sort of respectful salute.
>You ignore it.
>You need to time to think.
>You need to be alone.
>You don't even know where your... his room is.
>You don't even know where here is.
>Talking horses aren't a normal happening on Earth.
>Torture and maiming was more commonplace then you'd like to think.
>But you wouldn't ever do such a thing...
>Would you?
>You feel sick.
>Throwing up in the halls isn't a good idea.
>You wander aimlessly, eventually stumbling upon a washroom of sorts.
>You go inside, checking to see if anyone else is present.
>Nope.
>You immediately hurl in the nearest toilet-like structure.
>You feel slightly less nauseous.
>That doesn't stop the headache, or the visions.
>you go to a sink and splash some cold water in your face.
>You look at yourself in a mirror for the first time today.
>Same clothes, same face, same eyes.
>The eyes of a monster, perhaps.
>You stare at yourself, wondering where the hell you are.
>Wondering what the hell this is.
>Maybe you could ask a guard?
>”Hi, my name's Anonymous the butcher. I'm twelve years old, and what is this?”
>You don't imagine that going well.
>Maybe a more subtle approach would be necessary.
>Skirt around the questions.
>Put them on edge.
>You've got some sort of status around here, and the guards seem to fear you.
>Those two, at least.
>Maybe they would have some answers for you.
><”Yeah, because subtle has always been your forte, hasn't it?”
>>”Fuck off, brain.”
><”I'm a little bit more than that, Anonymous. Don't you remember?”
>>”Yes. Now go away. I am trying to think.”
><”Anon, you're in a strange world of talking horses, unicorns, pegasi, and gun toting humans. You
>< look just like some sort of sadist, and you're on the verge of a breakdown. Don't you think a familiar >< voice would be nice right about now?”
>>”Not after what you said.”
><”Look, I'm just a glorified representation of your subconscious that YOU created when you were
>< lonely.”
>>”I know what you are. I made you. Go away.”
><”You haven't talked to me in a long time, Anon.”
>>”I haven't needed to. I've outgrown you.”
>< But you have wanted to. And you did talk to me in that room.”
>>”One time deal.”
><”You're still upset over what I said all those years ago?”
>>”You said it right after she died, you insensitive prick!”
><”And when would have been the right time to bring it up? One year? Five? Never? You need to-”
>>”I don't need to do jack shit! It's not my fucking fault!”
><”I didn't say it was, An-”
>>”Shut up! Just fucking shut up about it you fuck! Leave me alone!”
>As you scream at him in your mind, you start to tear up.
>You're still staring at yourself in the mirror.
>In a strange world with strange beings.
>And you are screaming at a mental construct who is only trying to look out or you.
>And, like it or not, it did feel good to hear his voice again.
>You sigh.
>>”Look, I'm sorry that I put this on you, alright? I just don't want to talk about that. Not now.”
>Silence.
>>”And I do want a friendly voice. Please, let's talk. I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on
>>you.”
><”Apology accepted. You're lucky that I've survived this long without your contact, you know.”
>>”I know.”
><”And I will bring this up again, Anon.”
>>”Right now, we have some more pressing shit going on.”
><”Agreed. We need information.”
>>”Right. I'm going to go talk to the guards.”
><”Negatory, ghost rider. Bad idea.”
>>”Why? It's not like they suspect anything. What, are they gonna think that I'm some inter-
>> dimensional traveler just because I ask a few weird questions?”
><”Maybe. You did travel here in your sleep. Oh, you'd better start moving around. Walking or
>< something. It's going to look odd just being in the bathroom like this.”
>You wonder how many other people already came in here looking at you as you just stared into the mirror.
>Oops.
>You start wandering down the halls.
><”All I'm saying is that it might draw some attention to yourself. If they ask you questions about your
>< work, and you can't answer them, it's going to look suspicious.”
>>”Do you have a better idea?”
><”Talk to the horses-beings.”
>>”Right, because they really want to talk to the guy that tortured them. Great idea.”
><”Help them. Give them some relief.”
>>”You saw those looks in their eyes. They wanted to flay me alive! Why would they think anything I
>> did was genuine?”
><”You really think that the previous Anonymous ever tried to give them something nice? Did you see
><that room?”
>You stop in front of a window and watch the sunrise.
>>”Well, I suppose not, but-”
>You look at the sunrise again.
>Something's off.
>Didn't the sun already rise this morning?
>>”It hasn't been a full day, has it?”
><”I don't think so. Why?”
>>”I thought it was morning when I got up.”
>You see the sun rise up until half of it is showing, then sink below the horizon again.
>It does this repeatedly as you stare for about thirty minutes.
>”What the sam hell is going on here?”
><”I was thinking the same thing.”
>>”Information time?”
>>”Planning time. We need to come bearing gifts.”
>>”Right, we'll just waltz right in with a fruit basket and everything will be kosher. I can see it now.
>> 'Gee, Anonymous, we thought you were a bad guy for cutting us up and stuff, but these mangoes
>> made us believe that you are a different man!' Fucking genius.”
><”Not like that, you idiot. We need to come bearing some form of relief for each of them. Since we
>< cannot free the horses without raising alarms, we'll need to improvise.”
>>”And what do you suggest we do?”
><”Think about what each horse was going through. What did the cages look like.”
>>”You should know, you were there too.”
><”Not the point of this exercise, Anon.”
>>”Alright, fine. The yellow one was surrounded by raw meat. Dead animals of various sorts. That means she doesn't like meat, probably.”
><”No shit. They're horses. They don't eat meat.”
>>”Well, then why not surround each cage with meat? Why not place every horse in filth?”
><”Because... maybe each cage is tailored to the individual?”
>>”Makes sense. So the yellow one is probably dome animal lover. Doesn't like to see dead things.”
><”So take down the meat and help her out. Alright, next up is the filthy cage.”
>>”That's easy. The horse inside is some sort of neat freak."
><”A clean horse?”
>>”A talking, clean horse. Get it right.”
><”Right. So get some soap and water... a LOT of soap and water. And a couple... dozen... brushes.
>< What about the orange one?”
>>”Wedges in the pulley system should give her some slack. Let her move around a bit. I'll bet she's
>> hurting something fierce from those chains pulling on her constantly.”
><”Alright. What about the purple one? What's her problem?”
>>”She probably just snapped after seeing the others in such pain and suffering. Especially the middle >>two. Help them all out and she might come back to the land of the sane eyes.”
><”The pink one...”
>A shudder runs down your spine.
>>”Those eyes were worse than the purple one's.
><”That was not a broken horse. She had hatred toward you.
>>”The guards mentioned something about an incident... I wonder if she had anything to do with it.”
><”She's fucking scary, but you saw how she was chained up. How could she have done anything?”
>>”They moved the prisoners, remember? She got that many chains AFTER the move, and none of the
>> other six have them. Why just her?”
><”So... what did she do?”
>>”I don't know. But she seemed willing to talk about that box cage. Maybe she'll be willing to talk
>> about what she did?”
><”Worth a shot. We're just spitballing at this point anyway.”
>>”We can cut the wire on the black one's mouth and let it speak again, just like Ms. White. It'll hurt, but-”
><”You skipped the rainbow maned one.”
>You stop walking.
>>”Well, she was easy. Claustrophobic. Just don't put her back in the box.”
><”She reminds you of her, doesn't she?”
>”P-Please don't...”
>The screams.
>The whip coming down.
>Again.
>And again.
>And-
>>”Yeah. Yeah she does.”
><”That wasn't your fault. I never said-"
>>”I know. Let's... let's get back to the task at hand.”
><”You sure you don't wanna talk-”
>>”I'm sure.”
><”Alright. Let's get some supplies.”
>>”From where?”
>It occurs to you that you have no idea where the fuck you are.
>Or how long you have been walking.
>Or where to get any of the things you need.
>You sigh.
>It's going to be a long day..night...period of whatever time it currently is.
>>”Let's get to it.”

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

>You pay little attention to the guards as you walk out.
>You're in a bit of  a daze.
>They offer some sort of respectful salute.
>You ignore it.
>You need to time to think.
>You need to be alone.
>You don't even know where your... his room is.
>You don't even know where here is.
>Talking horses aren't a normal happening on Earth.
>Torture and maiming was more commonplace then you'd like to think.
>But you wouldn't ever do such a thing...
>Would you?
>You feel sick.
>Throwing up in the halls isn't a good idea.
>You wander aimlessly, eventually stumbling upon a washroom of sorts.
>You go inside, checking to see if anyone else is present.
>Nope.
>You immediately hurl in the nearest toilet-like structure.
>You feel slightly less nauseous.
>That doesn't stop the headache, or the visions.
>you go to a sink and splash some cold water in your face.
>You look at yourself in a mirror for the first time today.
>Same clothes, same face, same eyes.
>The eyes of a monster, perhaps.
>You stare at yourself, wondering where the hell you are.
>Wondering what the hell this is.
>Maybe you could ask a guard?
>”Hi, my name's Anonymous the butcher.  I'm twelve years old, and what is this?”
>You don't imagine that going well.
>Maybe a more subtle approach would be necessary.
>Skirt around the questions.
>Put them on edge.
>You've got some sort of status around here, and the guards seem to fear you.
>Those two, at least.
>Maybe they would have some answers for you.
><”Yeah, because subtle has always been your forte, hasn't it?”
>>”Fuck off, brain.”
><”I'm a little bit more than that, Anonymous.  Don't you remember?”
>>”Yes.  Now go away. I am trying to think.”
><”Anon, you're in a strange world of talking horses, unicorns, pegasi, and gun toting humans.  You  
>< look just like some sort of sadist, and you're on the verge of a breakdown. Don't you think a familiar >< voice would be nice right about now?”
>>”Not after what you said.”
><”Look, I'm just a glorified representation of your subconscious that YOU created when you were  
>< lonely.”
>>”I know what you are.  I made you.  Go away.”
><”You haven't talked to me in a long time, Anon.”
>>”I haven't needed to.  I've outgrown you.”
>< But you have wanted to. And you did talk to me in that room.”
>>”One time deal.”
><”You're still upset over what I said all those years ago?”
>>”You said it right after she died, you insensitive prick!”
><”And when would have been the right time to bring it up? One year? Five?  Never?  You need to-”
>>”I don't need to do jack shit!  It's not my fucking fault!”
><”I didn't say it was, An-”
>>”Shut up! Just fucking shut up about it you fuck! Leave me alone!”
>As you scream at him in your mind, you start to tear up.
>You're still staring at yourself in the mirror.
>In a strange world with strange beings.
>And you are screaming at a mental construct who is only trying to look out or you.
>And, like it or not, it did feel good to hear his voice again.
>You sigh.
>>”Look, I'm sorry that I put this on you, alright? I just don't want to talk about that.  Not now.”
>Silence.
>>”And I do want a friendly voice.  Please, let's talk. I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on 
>>you.”
><”Apology accepted. You're lucky that I've survived this long without your contact, you know.”
>>”I know.”
><”And I will bring this up again, Anon.”
>>”Right now, we have some more pressing shit going on.”
><”Agreed. We need information.”
>>”Right.  I'm going to go talk to the guards.”
><”Negatory, ghost rider. Bad idea.”
>>”Why? It's not like they suspect anything. What, are they gonna think that I'm some inter-
>> dimensional traveler just because I ask a few weird questions?”
><”Maybe. You did travel here in your sleep. Oh, you'd better start moving around.  Walking or 
>< something.  It's going to look odd just being in the bathroom like this.”
>You wonder how many other people already came in here looking at you as you just stared into the mirror.
>Oops.
>You start wandering down the halls.
><”All I'm saying is that it might draw some attention to yourself.  If they ask you questions about your
>< work, and you can't answer them, it's going to look suspicious.”
>>”Do you have a better idea?”
><”Talk to the horses-beings.”
>>”Right, because they really want to talk to the guy that tortured them.  Great idea.”
><”Help them.  Give them some relief.”
>>”You saw those looks in their eyes.  They wanted to flay me alive! Why would they think anything I 
>> did was genuine?”
><”You really think that the previous Anonymous ever tried to give them something nice? Did you see 
><that room?”
>You stop in front of a window and watch the sunrise.
>>”Well, I suppose not, but-”
>You look at the sunrise again.
>Something's off.
>Didn't the sun already rise this morning?
>>”It hasn't been a full day, has it?”
><”I don't think so.  Why?”
>>”I thought it was morning when I got up.”
>You see the sun rise up until half of it is showing, then sink below the horizon again.
>It does this repeatedly as you stare for about thirty minutes.
>”What the sam hell is going on here?”
><”I was thinking the same thing.”
>>”Information time?”
>>”Planning time. We need to come bearing gifts.”
>>”Right, we'll just waltz right in with a fruit basket and everything will be kosher. I can see it now. 
>> 'Gee, Anonymous, we thought you were a bad guy for cutting us up and stuff, but these mangoes 
>> made us believe that you are a different man!' Fucking genius.”
><”Not like that, you idiot.  We need to come bearing some form of relief for each of them.  Since we 
>< cannot free the horses without raising alarms, we'll need to improvise.”
>>”And what do you suggest we do?”
><”Think about what each horse was going through. What did the cages look like.”
>>”You should know, you were there too.”
><”Not the point of this exercise, Anon.”
>>”Alright, fine.  The yellow one was surrounded by raw meat.  Dead animals of various sorts. That means she doesn't like meat, probably.”
><”No shit. They're horses.  They don't eat meat.”
>>”Well, then why not surround each cage with meat? Why not place every horse in filth?”
><”Because... maybe each cage is tailored to the individual?”
>>”Makes sense. So the yellow one is probably dome animal lover. Doesn't like to see dead things.”
><”So take down the meat and help her out. Alright, next up is the filthy cage.”
>>”That's easy.  The horse inside is some sort of neat freak."
><”A clean horse?”
>>”A talking, clean horse. Get it right.”
><”Right.  So get some soap and water... a LOT of soap and water. And a couple... dozen... brushes. 
>< What about the orange one?”
>>”Wedges in the pulley system should give her some slack.  Let her move around a bit.  I'll bet she's 
>> hurting something fierce from those chains pulling on her constantly.”
><”Alright.  What about the purple one?  What's her problem?”
>>”She probably just snapped after seeing the others in such pain and suffering. Especially the middle >>two. Help them all out and she might come back to the land of the sane eyes.”
><”The pink one...”
>A shudder runs down your spine. 
>>”Those eyes were worse than the purple one's.
><”That was not a broken horse.  She had hatred toward you.
>>”The guards mentioned something about an incident... I wonder if she had anything to do with it.”
><”She's fucking scary, but you saw how she was chained up. How could she have done anything?”
>>”They moved the prisoners, remember?  She got that many chains AFTER the move, and none of the 
>> other six have them. Why just her?”
><”So... what did she do?”
>>”I don't know.  But she seemed willing to talk about that box cage.  Maybe she'll be willing to talk 
>> about what she did?”
><”Worth a shot. We're just spitballing at this point anyway.”
>>”We can cut the wire on the black one's mouth and let it speak again, just like Ms. White.  It'll hurt, but-”
><”You skipped the rainbow maned one.”
>You stop walking.
>>”Well, she was easy.  Claustrophobic. Just don't put her back in the box.”
><”She reminds you of her, doesn't she?”
>”P-Please don't...”
>The screams.
>The whip coming down.
>Again.
>And again.
>And-
>>”Yeah. Yeah she does.”
><”That wasn't your fault. I never said-"
>>”I know. Let's... let's get back to the task at hand.”
><”You sure you don't wanna talk-”
>>”I'm sure.”
><”Alright. Let's get some supplies.”
>>”From where?”
>It occurs to you that you have no idea where the fuck you are.
>Or how long you have been walking.
>Or where to get any of the things you need.
>You sigh.
>It's going to be a long day..night...period of whatever time it currently is.
>>”Let's get to it.”

Pastebin.com Tools & Applications

iPhone/iPad

Windows

Firefox

Chrome

WebOS

Android

Mac

Opera

Click.to

UNIX

WinPhone