Writing The Seven Year War

Shinmaru · May 11, 2004

I was a bit reluctant to post this anywhere other than myOtaku, because I felt that I might fall into the trap that I had dug for myself on other occasions when i started writing long stories and submitting them to places like Fiction Press.net. However, I'm really trying to be diligent with this story; I want this to be a story that I finish and can look back on and know that I crafted something worth reading, heh.

So, yeah, I'll pop in here every once in a while and post new chapters if people get interested in it and start replying and offering up comments, questions, advice and all that jazz. If you've started reading it on my myOtaku, feel free to use this thread as a forum for your comments rather than my (rather large) myOtaku post.

[b][u][center]Chapter One: The Hospital[/b][/u][/center]

The sun set when he woke up.

The hospital was clean and white, completely sterile. Doctors in white coats carried white papers to and fro, from office to office, trying to figure out how to cure their patients. Nurses in white dresses scurried around, collecting needles, administering shots to young children who required them. Everything was orderly, all needles were in their right place, all equipment was put away properly, and every procedure was practiced and re-practiced down to each minute detail. Even during nighttime, the bright white lights of the hospital kept business going.

There were many rooms in the hospital; this particular building was one of the largest buildings in the world. There were constant droves of people in the hospital, from doctors to nurses to patients to businessmen and politicians hoping to get some public support by visiting patients near death. There was never a lack of activity in the area ? it was like a twenty-four hour convenience store.

In a small room on the thirteenth floor of the building, dedicated to ?patients beyond hope,? a young man?s dark brown eyes opened. He attempted to sit up, but found that he could not move a single muscle in his body. His eyes closed again, but he forced them back open. His vision was blurred, though it did not matter in the hospital, because all that it meant was that all the white was mixing together. Eventually, his vision cleared and he took a look around the room. His eyes darted from side to side, taking in the full effect of the strange area that surrounded him.

The young man tried to speak up, but could only utter a low groan. The nurse working on the far side of the room gave a small, surprised yelp and turned around to face the young man. Once she saw he was awake, she composed herself and walked over to the phone on the other side of the room. The nurse picked up the phone, dialed a number and spoke into the phone.

?He?s woken up,? the nurse said. ?We need a doctor here, right away.? The nurse hung up the phone and walked out of the room. The young man, after a bit of an effort, finally managed to sit up slightly; his muscles were incredibly sore, as if they hadn?t been used for a millennia. After a few seconds of excruciating effort, the young man let himself fall back against his pillow, just as the doctor walked into the room. The doctor, a tall, light-skinned man, closed the door and peered over in the direction of the young man.

?Mr.?? The doctor looked confused for a moment, his face straining slightly. ?Jacob. Yes, Jacob?? The doctor looked down at the sheet in the clipboard he was carrying around. This particular doctor was the only doctor who still relied on the ancient technology of clipboards. He claimed they made him feel more comfortable. ?Jacob S.?

The doctor went to the side of the bed and pushed a button. Jacob?s bed lifted up slightly, setting Jacob?s body in a slant and making him a bit more comfortable. Jacob didn?t really pay attention to this, as he was too busy trying to regain control of his fingers and arms. Slowly, but surely, his strength was coming back to him. There was one thing missing, though: Jacob couldn?t remember a thing. He wasn?t surprised that the doctor had forgotten his name, because he wasn?t really sure of it, himself. The doctor finished reading over the sheet and peered at Jacob, his right hand running through his sagacious beard softly.

?It seems that you?ve been here for a while,? the doctor looked down at the sheet again and chuckled to himself. ?A very [i]long[/i] while.?

?Where am I??? Jacob asked with a throaty rasp. Evidently, he hadn?t used his voice for years, either. Jacob coughed viciously and the doctor handed him some water, with the orders to drink up so that his throat could make a speedy recovery.

?You?re in a hospital,? the doctor said, adjusting his glasses. ?A rather large hospital, as a matter of fact.?

?How did I get here?? Jacob asked.

?That, I?m not sure of,? the doctor answered. ?In fact, other than your name and the length of time you?ve been here, I don?t really know that much about you, to be honest?? Jacob tilted his head quizzically, but decided not to dwell on that particular point.

?So, how long have I been here, exactly?? Jacob asked.

?According to the records?? the doctor paused to read the data. ?Fifty years.?

?I don?t feel fifty years old?? Jacob said.

?Well, you?ve been in suspended animation much of the time,? the doctor said. ?You must have been in a rather large accident if they had to resort to suspended animation.?

?So?what does that mean?? Jacob questioned.

?When you?re put into suspended animation, it means that current technology is not enough to heal you,? the doctor replied. ?And we?re basically leaving the body to its own devices to heal itself, whether that?s possible or not.? Jacob didn?t really believe this, but he could not come up with any other explanation, so he accepted this without any qualms.

?Do you know how I got here?? Jacob asked.

?Not a clue,? the doctor said. ?If I didn?t know any better, I?d say you were a victim of the Seven Year War.? The doctor chuckled slightly. Jacob?s head snapped over to the direction of the doctor.

?What did you say?? Jacob asked. ?Seven Year War??

?Oh, come now,? the doctor said, a bit nervous. ?I was simply joking. Those are just rumors. I couldn?t tell you if they were true if I wanted to.? Jacob slumped against his pillow some more.

?How come I was here for fifty years?? Jacob asked.

?I don?t know,? the doctor said. ?Someone must have paid a lot of money to keep you here for that amount of time. Suspended animation is a very, very expensive procedure. Someone must really love you a lot.? Jacob began to fidget around in his bed a bit, still regaining the strength of his muscles.

?I think I should head off to the office,? the doctor said. ?Maybe I?ll find some more information on you there.? And, with that, the doctor left the room, the door closing softly behind him. Jacob sighed and stole a wistful look at the window. He attempted to crane his neck in order to see what was outside, but was unsuccessful. Jacob stretched his limbs and several of his bones made audible cracking noises. The popping of his bones made Jacob feel slightly better and he attempted to get out of bed.

Jacob swung sluggishly over to the left side of the bed and planted his feet firmly onto the ground. He was about to step off of his bed, when he was hit by a massive migraine. He emitted a sharp cry of pain and fell backwards onto his bed, clutching the sides of his throbbing head with his hands. When Jacob sat up again, he was in a new world.

There was a long alleyway. Jacob walked down the alley and turned a corner. When he turned to the corner, he saw corpses lining the path, each lying in their own specialized pool of crimson red blood. The walls of the alley were alive with the art of death, a mix of faded graffiti and bloody decorations adorning the bricks. The sounds of gunshots cracked through the air, the bright flashes of gunpowder and bullets offering a fleeting glimpse of light before darkness enveloped the area once again.

Jacob continued to walk swiftly through the alley, stepping over bodies and ignoring the smell of decomposing flesh. Out of the corner of his eye, Jacob spotted two people running, a young man and a young woman. Jacob?s face turned toward them, totally devoid of emotion. The couple?s eyes widened fearfully and they tore down the rest of the alley, awaiting the inevitable dead-end of the road, while at the same time hoping with all their hope that it would simply cease to be and allow them to escape, lives intact.

It was not meant to be. Jacob stalked them all the way to the end of the road. The clouds began to emit heavy amounts of rain, a torrential downpour that did nothing to wash away the massive amounts of blood embellishing the violent stories told by the concrete walkways. Lightning flashed periodically against the backdrop, lighting up the area behind Jacob and giving his shadow a larger-than-life appearance. He was a literal Angel of Death to these people.

The young man and the young woman fell to the ground, streaking their clothing with fresh mud and fading blood. They backed up quickly from the figure advancing before their very eyes. They hit the brick wall simultaneously and grasped each other fearfully, knowing what was going to happen and fearing it no less because of that. Jacob?s arm rose slowly into the air; it hung in the air, lingering for a few precious seconds before he pulled the trigger. Once?twice?three times for good measure. Both people were hit with perfect shots to the middle of the forehead.

The world began to spin. The raindrops swirled around Jacob, the sky warped into an unrecognizable mass of gray and red. Jacob?s eyes widened with fright and he dropped his gun onto the ground. He stared down at his hands, which were covered in blood. Jacob tried to wipe it off, but the more he tried to get it off, the more blood began to appear on his hands. The blood got onto his shirt, into his hair, onto his face. Jacob was drowning in it, choking on it; he could see nothing but an ocean of blood approaching him from all sides.

And, then, he woke up. Jacob sat up quickly, looking around; he was still in the same hospital room, with the same white walls and the same bed he had been laying in for about fifty years. Jacob made a thorough search of his body only to find that there was no blood in sight ? none on his hands, none on his clothing and none in his hair. He eventually calmed down and sighed deeply, lurching his way out of the hospital bed.

Jacob could not stop thinking about what had just occurred. The mere thought of the blood and the dead bodies strewn about the ground were enough to send several shivers up and down his spine for minutes at a time. Jacob composed himself and walked over to a cupboard on the other side of the room. He opened the cupboard tentatively and peered inside at the contents. Inside was a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, a hat, a pair of white socks and a pair of tennis shoes. All of them were exactly Jacob?s size.

Jacob decided to ignore the fact that everything fit him perfectly and put on the clothes. They were, of course, extremely comfortable and Jacob was glad that he decided to wear these clothes in lieu of the hospital clothing, which was far too loose and left his entire backside uncovered and cold. Jacob peeked out of his hospital room. He peered down the left side of the hallway and saw that there was nobody there. He stole a look towards the right side of the hallway and found that there was nobody there, either.

Jacob put the hat on and walked outside of the hospital room. He walked through the halls and turned corners when it seemed appropriate. Whenever he passed by a doctor, Jacob would tip his cap and greet him or her like a good person should.

?Hello, doctor,? Jacob said.

?Hello there,? the doctor replied, without as much as a cursory glance towards Jacob. Nurses received equal attention from Jacob as he made his way through the hospital.

?Hello, nurse,? Jacob said.

?Hello there,? the nurse replied, eyeing Jacob up coquettishly. ?I hope you had a good time here.?

?Oh yes,? Jacob said. ?I had a very fun time at the hospital.? Jacob blushed slightly; he was embarrassed because he had forgotten to tip his cap. He took the time to do so and the nurse smiled at him.

?Well, I hope that life continues to treat you well,? the nurse said.

?I?m sure it will,? Jacob said, continuing on his way. Jacob continued to turn corners, to pass doctors, to pass nurses and to tip his cap an uncountable number of times. Jacob concluded that he was walking around in circles, which was an astute observation that could only be reached when one realized that the hospital was built so that people could only walk around in circles. Jacob spotted a pair of elevators but decided to eschew them in favor of the spiral staircase that corkscrewed around a pillar that led to the downstairs floors of the hospital.

Jacob began to walk down the stairs, holding onto the handrail and spiraling madly through each floor to the first floor of the hospital. Jacob was extremely dizzy by the time he reached the bottom floor but was glad to have finally reached his destination. After all, he did not really want to spend any more time in the hospital than was needed. The doctors unnerved him slightly, though not as much as the nurses with their coquettish stares and bright smiles. That was far too much for Jacob to handle.

Jacob took off his cap, ran a hand through his sweaty, matted brown hair and put his cap back on, being careful to readjust his hair under the cap just right. Jacob took a couple minutes to rest against a wall and regain his equilibrium; he was still a bit dizzy from the journey down the spiraling stairs. He leaned against the wall and began to observe the passerby, all of which consisted of doctors who did not even give Jacob a cursory glance and nurses who stared at him coquettishly.

After a few minutes, Jacob could not take all of the attention that was and was not being lavished upon him. Jacob stretched a bit, cracking a few bones in his back and shoulders and, with a last tip of his cap, continued on his way out of the hospital. He went up to the front door and led his hand toward the handle of the door. His hand stopped halfway above the handle, however. Jacob knew that he wanted to leave, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that he wanted to leave. After assuring himself that, yes, leaving this hospital, this maze, was the right thing to do, Jacob turned the handle of the door and stepped out into the darkness of nighttime.

Yes, that was a nice read, wasn't it?

Feel free to offer up any complaints, comments, critique, questions, analysis, whatever you want, it's all game for me. If you [i]do[/i] read the story, though, I would like for you to comment on it ^_^

EDIT: Slight changes here and there.

Mimmsicle · May 16, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]I am impressed Shin. This story feels very focused and driven (and I've read all 3 chapters, so I'm speaking of what I've seen as a whole, not just this chapter)[/color][/size][/font][font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred].

As always, you create a fascination for your characters. How did they end up here, what happened, where are they going ? It's difficult to strike that balance, where you're teasing the reader to want to know more and giving them enough to not become frustrated and/or lose interest. But I feel that you're doing a great job.[/color][/size][/font]
[color=darkred]
[font=Verdana][size=1]Your style feels very mature and you are keeping it "plain", meaning you don't resort to funny antics (like caricaturing the people Jacob meet) just to amuse the reader. It seems that you are serious in telling a good story here, and want to go about it in a professional way (without losing the traits that your stories carry)[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1]Splendid. Simply splendid ^_^[/size][/font][/color][color=darkred][font=Verdana]

[/font][/color]

Shinmaru · May 16, 2004

Thank you for the compliments ^_^ I've recently finished chapters four and five; perhaps I'll post them on myOtaku sometime or maybe I'll be able to get them in here (knock on wood).

Anyway, here is chapter two.

[b][u][center]Chapter Two: The Subway[/center][/u][/b]

Jacob walked outside, shielding his eyes, because he thought it was daytime. He was quite surprised to find that it was nighttime and that the only light came from the lampposts situated high above the buildings. Jacob began to walk on the sidewalk in an attempt to get used to his new surroundings. Nothing was familiar to him at all; the cars lining the roads were makes that he could not remember ever seeing in his life, the houses and buildings were made of a strange material that he could not remember feeling in his life and even the light from the lampposts felt strange and unfamiliar.

Jacob walked a few feet and stopped in front of a bakery. He liked the smell emanating from the shop and, though he did not have any money with him, he went inside simply to partake of this delightful smell. Jacob walked over to the far right side of the bakery, nearest to the kitchen and sat down on one of the benches lined up against the windows.

?Is there anything I can do for you?? a voice asked from Jacob's side. Jacob turned his head and looked up at the young man who was standing next to him. This was the boy whose job it was to man the cash register during the night shift. He was about Jacob?s height with a pallid complexion and thick, dark black hair that looked comical set against the frail nature of the rest of his body.

?No thank you,? Jacob replied. ?I?m just enjoying the smells.?

?I like the smells, too,? the young man replied. ?They make me feel better about things.? Jacob smiled. He liked this boy already, though he found it funny that such a man was responsible for giving people baked goods.

?Would you care to join me?? Jacob asked.

?I?d like to, but my break is almost over,? the young man said in reply. ?How would you like a doughnut or two??

?I couldn?t possibly?? Jacob started, but the young man cut him off.

?I insist,? the young man said, beaming. ?You look like you could use a good doughnut.? Before Jacob could reply, the young man went to the back room to fetch a box of doughnuts. In a few seconds, the young man came back with a pink box with a dozen doughnuts inside and handed it to Jacob. Truthfully, Jacob was not really very hungry, but he did not want to seem rude, so he set to work on eating the doughnuts in the box. Just as Jacob was finishing off the last of the doughnuts, a man entered the bakery.

The man was dressed in a brown business suit. He had sandy blonde hair and an elegantly trimmed mustache. He sauntered up to the front counter and tapped the bell near the cash register impatiently, waiting for some service. The young man heard the ringing of the bell from the back room and rushed to the front desk. He seemed disappointed that Jacob was not ringing the bell.

?Finally,? the man spat out exasperatedly. ?I have been ringing this bell for a while, you know.?

?I?m sorry,? the young man said, tilting his head slightly. ?What may I do for you??

?I need a box of doughnuts,? the man said. ?And I need them very quickly, as I am in a hurry.?

?I?m sorry,? the young man replied. ?But I just sold our last box of doughnuts to that man over there.? The young man pointed over to Jacob.

?What do you mean?? the man asked incredulously. ?You run a bakery, for God?s sakes! How can you run out of doughnuts?!?

?Well,? the young man answered, stroking his chin. ?I have some more doughnuts in the back if you really want them that badly??

?Yes,? the man said. ?Yes, I do. Go get them.? The young man did as he was told and went into the back room to get the extra doughnuts. He came back after a few seconds carrying a black box with a dozen doughnuts inside. He handed the box to the man, who paid him for it and left the bakery. The young man walked over to Jacob and sat down on the opposite side of him.

?I didn?t really like that guy very much,? the young man said.

?He seemed a bit rude to me,? Jacob agreed.

?Yes,? the young man replied. ?He?ll have a nice surprise waiting for him.?

?What do you mean?? Jacob asked.

?Well,? the young man said. ?Those doughnuts that I gave that guy were filled with rat poison. We set them out for the rats to eat when we get infested with them. The doughnuts are in a black box so that we know not to eat them or give them out to anyone.?

?Then, why did you give them out to him?? Jacob asked, suddenly feeling very ill.

?Because I didn?t like him,? came the reply from the young man. ?He?s the third person who?s come in here this week that I haven?t liked. They always take those doughnuts without any questions and then I get worried because I never know if they?ve eaten them or not.? Jacob knew this was true, because he was getting very worried, himself.

?How do you know if they?ve eaten the doughnuts?? Jacob asked.

?They die and I hear about it on the news,? the young man replied. ?They usually blame it on the men?s wives, because everyone knows that those types of guys always have affairs within the workplace.?

?Oh,? Jacob replied. He was now almost as pallid as the young man and he was sweating profusely. His stomach felt knotted and twisted and he had an urgent need to vomit.

?Don?t worry,? the young man said, noticing how nervous Jacob was. ?I didn?t give any of those doughnuts to you. I like you.?

?I should be leaving,? Jacob said. ?I have somewhere to go.? Jacob knew this was a lie, because he did not know where he was at that moment, but he was eager to find somewhere else to go, so, in a sense, he was telling the truth, even if he was not.

?Okay,? the young man said, beaming again. ?I suppose I?ll see you some other time.?

?Yeah,? Jacob said, lurching over to the front door. He opened it, stepped outside and closed the door to the bakery. A fresh blast of cool air greeted Jacob as he walked around outside. He continued to walk down the same sidewalk that he had been walking along before. After a few minutes of walking, he noticed another person walking beside him across the street. This man was wearing a black business suit, had short brown hair, sunglasses and was wearing a small, concealed headset.

Jacob continued to walk along the concrete, pretending that he did not notice this stranger. He turned corners and crossed streets, the stranger keeping perfectly parallel to Jacob?s path. Jacob tried to trick the stranger by running in a zigzag path and jaywalking to the street that the stranger was walking on. Jacob felt that this plan would work perfectly no matter what, but he was wrong, because the stranger was smarter than he thought.

The stranger zagged when Jacob zigged and zigged when Jacob zagged. Jacob did not even trick the stranger when he crossed the street; the stranger simply jaywalked over to the street that Jacob had previously been occupying. After a while, Jacob?s sickness was getting worse, the need to vomit was growing stronger and his heart was racing faster than he could keep up with. Jacob decided to slow down and take a rest. The stranger took this opportunity to cross the street and confront Jacob.

?I?ve been looking for you for a while now,? the stranger said, throwing a steely glare in Jacob's direction. Jacob made no response to this. The stranger reached into his pocket and took out a pistol. At the sight of the pistol, Jacob?s eyes widened and he began to run again. The stranger, who had not expected Jacob to get scared and run, was caught off guard slightly and began to give chase again, but Jacob was far too fast for the stranger to catch up to him.

The stranger fired the pistol, but Jacob expertly evaded each shot by twisting and contorting his body into seemingly impossible angles in order to avoid each shot. The stranger stood transfixed at this sight, amazed that one person could avoid bullets so easily. He was even more amazed that he was experiencing this for himself and not in a movie or a book. The bullets that Jacob evaded hit the brick walls of the buildings that Jacob was running next to and chipped off parts of brick that rained onto Jacob?s back as he continued to run away.

Jacob kept running and spotted a tunnel off in the distance. He ran into the tunnel and took the stairs down below, unaware that the stranger had begun to follow him again. Jacob emerged from the stairs onto a small platform. He heard the slow rumbling of a subway car off in the distance and decided that was his only way out of here; it was hard to think enough to decide that, though, because he was still desperately ill.

The stranger emerged from the tunnel and waved his pistol in the air, screaming at Jacob. An old man came out from underneath a bench, raving at the stranger to shut up and let him sleep. The stranger responded in kind by shooting the old man and Jacob immediately threw up violently onto the ground. At that moment, the subway arrived and the doors opened. People filed out onto the platform and quickly filled in the area.

The stranger fired a few shots in the air, meant to scare the group of people and get them to disperse, but nobody seemed to notice what he was doing. Jacob took this opportunity to stumble his way through the crowd of people into the subway car. When Jacob fell inside, the last of the crowd made their way through the doors and they slid shut, sealing everyone from going out and anyone from coming in. Jacob crawled over to a seat and pulled himself up, resting against it and recovering from his violent illness.

An old woman with a dog in her lap was sitting next to Jacob. She was muttering to it under her breath even before Jacob had pulled himself alongside her and she was not stopping even after Jacob began to listen to her speak to her dog.

?We just had to go onto the train on this night, didn?t we?? the old woman muttered to her dog. ?Now we have a smelly little bastard sitting next to us. Who knows what sort of shenanigans he?s done tonight? I wouldn?t be surprised to hear that he was out cavorting with whores.?

?I wasn?t doing anything of the sort,? Jacob said indignantly, his voice wavering slightly with queasiness. The old woman paid no heed to this statement, however, and continued her dialogue with her dog.

?It?s people like him that are ruining everyone?s way of life,? the old woman said. ?He makes me sick to my stomach.?

?I?m the one who was just sick to my stomach?? Jacob muttered. The old woman heard him, but chose to ignore him.

?At least I have you to confide in, my precious little dog,? the old woman cooed, gently kissing the dog on the nose. ?You?re the only one who understands me, unlike that bastard sitting next to me.? Jacob wanted to take exception to this statement but decided not to press the issue. The old woman was right; the dog was probably the only one who understood her. Jacob was not about to dispute that.

Jacob had no idea where the subway car was going. Even if the car had a map, it would not have helped much to consult it, since he would not have been able to tell one part of the city from another. Jacob decided that he needed rest and fell asleep, waiting for the subway to reach the end of the line so that he would have a definitive place to get off of the subway. Jacob slept a dreamless sleep for a few hours, before he was shaken awake. A tall, gruff man was looming over him and shaking him harshly by the shoulder. The man, the driver of the subway car, addressed him in a thick, foreign voice.

?We?re at the end of the line,? the driver said. ?Time to get out.? Jacob rubbed the sleep out of his bloodshot, bleary eyes and groped his way out of the subway car out onto the platform. Jacob yawned vociferously as he trudged towards the stairs leading out of the underground platform and back up to the city. He stepped out from the darkened tunnel out into the dull sunlight of the early morning and covered his eyes with his hands, eager to find at least [i]one[/i] place in this strange city that he could be comfortable in.

As always, comments, complaints, critique, questions, analysis and whatever else are always welcome.

EDIT: Changes in dialogue, sentence structure and other such things.

Mimmsicle · May 18, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]I really like the people you put into the story, because you don't go too far with description and still manage to make them more than "story filling" (ie add something for the main character to react on). They feel just as real and thought out as Jacob. You tell us how you see them, but leave an opening for personal interpretation.[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]The grumpy old lady with the dog can be seen as only annoying, but she could also be pitied for her loneliness. The young man at the bakery can come off as anything from psychotic to heroic, haha.[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]OB must see more of this epic, Shin.[/color][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · May 18, 2004

Yeah, that's what I've tried to do with the characters...they're not really meant to be "main" characters (which is why I've tried to avoid extraneous description when it comes to them), but they're definitely there to add something to the story. These characters mainly represent a sort of fallacy when it comes to the appearance of the city (or any city, for that matter). This land, on outside appearances, is supposed to be inviting, but that's obviously not the way Jacob sees it - he's very confused and lost in this new place.

The young man in the bakery is sort of like the city itself...he looks inviting but, in reality, he's extremely dangerous. The old woman has pretty much eschewed all pretense of looking inviting and is just a nasty old woman, which is what the city is really like, from the perspective of Jacob. Of course, that's just one spin on it, anyone else could come up with their own interpretation of it, heh.

Anyway, I'm going to post the third chapter right now. It's a bit shorter than the first two, but definitely no less important.

[b][u][center]Chapter Three: The Diner and the Nightmares[/b][/u][/center]

Jacob walked through the throng of people that were occupying the sidewalk on which Jacob was currently traveling. He made his way through them, thrusting, shoving and barging his way through the crowd. Jacob eventually stopped trying to go against these people and joined in on their mad rush to go wherever it was that they wanted to go. The crowd pulled Jacob forward and he just let them carry him. They twisted and turned along the streets in what seemed like a very arbitrary path to Jacob.

After following these people for a few minutes, Jacob tired of their twisting, turning path and slipped out the side. He tripped over a small rock and fell onto the ground. He looked up into the air and saw that he was in front of a small building. The building had a large wooden sign above the door that read ?Diner?. A sign to the side of the door read ?Help Wanted?. Jacob opened the door and stepped inside. Since it was the early morning, there were not many people inside.

There were a few people at the front picking up their daily cup of coffee. There were a few other people sitting forlornly at the benches scattered randomly around the diner who were drinking the cups of coffee that they had picked up. With each sip that the people took, they slipped further into a caffenated depression that could only be helped by taking in more coffee. Jacob decided that they could not be helped and sat down at an area of benches situated in order to avoid the coffee breath wafting around the room from the mouths of these people.

When Jacob sat down, a waitress had begun to approach him. She looked up from her menu, saw his face, blushed a deep color of crimson and walked away, embarrassed. All of this happened in the space of a second and left Jacob feeling very confused. A large, heavyset man, presumably the manager of the diner, waddled up to Jacob, apologizing profusely for the waitress? strange behavior.

?I?m very sorry,? the manager said. ?Julia usually does not blush and get embarrassed after looking at one of the customers; it?s not company policy, you see.?

?It?s okay,? Jacob said, craning his neck to get a closer look at Julia.

?I can assure you that it will not happen again,? the manager said, wringing his apron uneasily.

?It?s okay,? Jacob said again. This time, the manager seemed reassured, and left after berating Julia in a language that Jacob did not understand. Julia approached Jacob timidly, her head bowed down so that she could not look him in the eyes.

?I?m sorry,? Julia said with a soft, barely detectable Spanish accent.

?It?s okay,? Jacob said for the third time. If it were the manager he was saying this to, Jacob probably would have been getting a bit annoyed by now.

?Is there anything that you would like?? Julia muttered, clearly still embarrassed.

?Well,? Jacob said. ?I?m not really hungry, but I noticed the help wanted sign outside. I was wondering if there was a job available.?

?Help wanted sign?? Julia asked. ?There?s no help wanted sign, is there?? Jacob got up, walked over to the help wanted sign, plucked it from the window and showed it to Julia. She looked at it and called the manager to Jacob. The manager tilted his head when he saw the sign.

?I?d forgotten that we?d put up that help wanted sign,? the manager said.

?When did we put that up?? Julia asked.

?After I hired you,? the manager said. ?We still needed more help, but everyone who applied kept dying because they ingested rat poison.?

?I won?t die of poison ingestion, will I?? Jacob asked.

?No, I don?t think so,? the manager said. ?We don?t have any rats in here, so there?s no need for rat poison.?

?I?d like to take the job,? Jacob said.

?I don?t know,? the manager said. ?Do you have any experience waiting tables??

?I don?t remember,? Jacob replied.

?Do you have any experience manning a cash register?? the manager asked.

?I don?t remember,? Jacob replied.

?Well,? the manager said, peering into Jacob's eyes. ?I guess I should hire you, anyway. All the other people who applied aren?t really in a position to take the job. You?ll start tomorrow. I?ll give you your uniform when you arrive.?

?Thank you very much,? Jacob said, then turned around and left the diner. As he walked away, Julia stared at him from inside the diner. She had been embarrassed to see him, but now she was sad to see him go, even though he would be returning the next day.

Jacob walked down the street, relieved that at least one of his problems was solved. He now had a job, but he had no place to live. He wasn?t sure how he was going to rectify that little situation. Happening upon the job at the diner was a stroke of luck, for the most part, because Jacob had not considered that there would be a job available at the diner until he had asked about it. And he had only asked about the job, because he was curious as to why Julia was embarrassed to see him.

Jacob continued walking down the street. In the distance, he spotted a rundown, ramshackle old building. Something about the building drew Jacob towards it?he figured it was because the building seemed like it housed cheap rooms and Jacob would only be able to afford cheap housing for the time being. Regardless of the reasoning, Jacob continued to walk over to the building until he successfully reached it.

Jacob opened the door and walked inside, the musty smell of dust filling his nostrils as soon as he stepped foot into the front room. Jacob walked forward and the wooden floor creaked loudly under his feet. He heard an angry voice travel from upstairs to downstairs and the creaking of the splintery stairs soon accompanied it as an old man bounded down the stairs, yelling his head off.

?Doesn?t anyone knock before they enter any more?!? the old man cried.

?I?m sorry,? Jacob said, suddenly afraid of this old man. The old man saw Jacob and peered at him.

?Who are you?? the old man asked.

?I?m here to ask about a room,? Jacob replied.

?We don?t have any openings,? the old man told him.

?I?d heard that there were some openings,? Jacob said.

?Well, there [i]are [/i]a couple openings,? the old man admitted. ?But nobody ever takes those rooms.?

?Why not?? Jacob asked.

?There are old people up there,? the old man replied. ?And they have nightmares.?

?Nightmares?? Jacob asked. ?What kind of nightmares??

?Grisly nightmares,? the old man said. ?You can hear them twisting around in their beds and moaning like crazy in their sleep. Their nights are full of rest, but they never get any rest at all, because their nightmares are worse than their actual lives.?

?I don?t think I?ll mind it too much,? Jacob said.

?That?s what everyone says,? the old man nodded. ?But they always complain to me about it and I have to explain that I told them about the nightmares when they first wanted to buy the room. It gets very tiring after a while.?

?I?m sure it does,? Jacob said. ?You won?t be getting any of that trouble from me, I promise.?

?Fine,? the old man said. ?You seem like a good kid, even if you?re crazy for wanting to sleep up there.? The old man showed Jacob to his room and left him to his own devices. When it was nighttime, Jacob could not get any sleep, because he was tired of having dreamless sleeps. Jacob went to the room next to him and sat down next to the old man who was having nightmares.

The old man twisted and writhed under his covers, moaning every few seconds and recoiling as if he was being tortured. He had a look of eternal exasperation and pain on his face, though he was still getting a good rest regardless of the nightmares. Jacob left this poor, old man and went to the room of the next old man.

This old man was much the same as the last old man. In fact, had they had not been in different rooms, Jacob would have sworn that this was the same old man as the old man in the other room. Sweat was pouring down the forehead of this old man as he grunted and groaned his way through his nightmares. He uttered phrases like ?No!? and ?Get away!? interminably as he clutched his blanket fearfully, as if that was the only thing keeping him alive at that particular moment. Jacob only had the energy to bear the nightmares of one more person, so he decided to pay a visit to the old man in the room next to this one.

Jacob walked inside this room. Unlike the other two, this one was extremely neat. The old man in this room was sleeping soundlessly, his chest heaving up and down rhythmically. Jacob knew that this old man was having nightmares, but he figured that he was too proud to let anyone else know that. This spectacle unnerved Jacob than the frantic antics of the other two old men, however. This old man was obviously aware of his nightmares; he had simply given in to them.

Jacob left the room and walked to the edge of the stairs. He briefly considered going to the old man whom gave him his room, but decided not to bother him with his complaints. The old men?s nightmares did not bother Jacob in the least. In fact, he was actually a bit interested in observing them, since he found them to be very interesting. He found them to be all the more interesting, because he knew exactly what they were dreaming of.

They were dreaming of the things that Jacob had forgotten.

So, there you have it. How do you like the writing style so far? Mostly through this story, I've been switching between a serious and a satirical tone and I'd like to hear some opinions on it ^_^

EDIT: Changed a few awkward words and sentences.

Mimmsicle · May 21, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]Personally I think that you've balanced everything splendidly. [/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred] [/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]Your points are subtle, but noticable. It feels like you want the readers to find things for themselves, but at the same time you give enough to satisfy those who don't want to think too much on their own.

The tone of the story is very serious, but you've snuck in some quirky bits that one can't help but smirk over. Nice touch.[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred] [/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]I believe it is time for the next chapter now ^_^[/color][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · May 21, 2004

Your wish is my command. I'm currently working on finishing Chapter Nine, so I'll have no problem updating as long as replies keep coming.

[b][u][center]Chapter Four: The Old Men[/b][/u][/center]

When Jacob went to sleep, he dreamt of the things that he had forgotten.

He woke up in a small, white room. He was strapped to a bench. There were bright white lights hanging overhead that were blinding Jacob and blurring his vision. He could hear voices chattering endlessly about him. Jacob tried to figure out where he was, but he could not collect his thoughts enough to form a coherent guess as to where exactly this place was. One of the doctors motioned over to Jacob and they pressed a syringe into his arm. Jacob began to twitch uncontrollably, his arms shaking, his chest heaving and his legs kicking. Slowly, but surely, he settled down.

?Are you sure that he will be okay, Dr. Milo?? one of the doctors asked.

?Of course he?ll be okay,? Dr. Milo answered. ?And, even if he isn?t, we can make it look as if he is okay easily enough.?

?Well, if this doesn?t work, then we?ll be in some hot water,? another doctor pointed out.

?You let me worry about that,? Dr. Milo answered. Dr. Milo felt Jacob?s body to make sure that nothing was wrong with him. He felt his ribs, his arms, his legs, his shoulders, his face and his extremities. Nothing was wrong with Jacob that Dr. Milo could discern. He poked and prodded Jacob?s body some more with a stick and, when Jacob did not show any adverse reaction to being poked with a stick, Dr. Milo proclaimed the experiment to be a success.

?Now,? Dr. Milo said. ?Stick him in a tank so that he can get better.? At that moment, Jacob fell into unconsciousness. When Jacob woke up, he was in a tank, connected to a massive amount of tubes that were sticking out of his body every which way. His vision was blurred because he was completely submerged in a strange liquid. It was definitely not water, that much Jacob knew?it was like a strange, gooey substance, not thick enough to be solid, but not fluid enough to be liquid.

Jacob could hear the faint sounds of conversation going on all around him. However, since the liquid pervaded every pore and hole in his body, including his ears, the only sound that Jacob could pick up were dull mutterings.

?Was there anything in particular that you wanted me for?? a pretty doctor asked Dr. Milo.

?No, I just wanted to stare at you for a bit,? Dr. Milo muttered duly. As soon as Dr. Milo realized what he said, he slapped the pretty, young doctor in order to get her mind off what he had just said.

?Why did you just slap me?? the doctor asked.

?An experiment,? Dr. Milo stated. The doctor decided not to press the issue because she thought that Dr. Milo, though intelligent, was a greedy, manipulative, heartless idiot. Dr. Milo was well aware that she thought of him in those terms and rather enjoyed it. Nobody had ever been so kind as to recognize his good points before.

All of this confused Jacob, who could not understand why he had been poked and prodded with a stick, only to wake up inside a glass tube and hear bits and pieces of Dr. Milo hitting on a female doctor. Jacob tried to shake his body in order to loosen the tube?s grip on him, but that only succeeded in making the tube?s hold on him even tighter. Eventually, Jacob gave up on this endeavor and relaxed his attempts to free himself from the tubes. Dr. Milo walked up to the glass tube and tapped on it lightly.

?You?re going to make me a rich man,? Dr. Milo said with glee. ?If you don?t get killed, first, that is. That would be terrible. I don?t suppose I can stop those idiots from using you for their harebrained schemes, but there?s a risk involved with just about anything worth doing, isn?t there? You should know that, above all other people.? The phone in the room rang loudly and Dr. Milo went to answer it. Before he could pick up the phone, however, the doors opened and a blackened figure stepped slowly into the room.

Jacob found it impossible to tell who this was; all he knew that he was deathly afraid of it. He was not the only one. Dr. Milo had paled considerably and took the first opportunity to hightail it out of the room. The black figure walked up to the control panel in the middle of the room. He pressed a button and the tubes slipped out from Jacob?s body. The liquid drained out of the tube and Jacob fell against it, freed from his bonds. The figure pressed another button and the tube around Jacob repressed into the base. Jacob fell, naked, onto the ground.

?Jacob, Jacob, Jacob?? the figure said with a smooth voice. ?We meet at last.? Jacob?s eyes widened and he scooted backwards as fast as he possibly could. He rammed hard into the cool metal of the container that he was in, sending a shock through his spine. Jacob fell forward onto the ground and looked up slightly. He locked eyes with the black figure. Jacob could feel his insides, his very being, being pervaded by this madman. Every secret, every truth, every fallacy, every aspect of Jacob?s life was privy to this man?and Jacob was frightened beyond all belief.

?Now, why are you frightened?? the figure cooed to Jacob. ?After all, there?s no reason to be frightened of me. I simply want what?s best for the two of us.?

?No!? Jacob shouted. ?You want to hurt me!?

?You can?t expect pleasure,? the figure said. ?Without a little pain to go along with it.?

?I?m so afraid?? Jacob muttered. He was shaking all over, a combination of fear and the cold air of the room blowing against the liquid all over his skin.

?I know that you?re afraid,? the figure said comfortingly. ?I was once afraid, myself. That was long ago, however, in another world, in another place.? The figure walked over to Jacob, but the bright lights impaired Jacob?s vision and he could not see the figure?s face.

?No!? Jacob shouted again. ?Stay back!? Jacob tried to scoot back more, but realized that he had no more room to maneuver. He raised his hands into the air, placing them in front of his face, in a futile attempt to shield himself from this mysterious person.

?Tsk, tsk,? the figure said. ?That?s too bad. Well, if you refuse to cooperate, I suppose I?ll have to make you cooperate?? The figure flicked its wrist and a small knife appeared in his hand. In a flash of movement, the figure grabbed Jacob and stuck the knife against his exposed throat. ?Let?s see how you can handle your life.? The figure started to cut Jacob?s throat slowly. Jacob could only emit a guttural groan as he felt the cold steel slice open his throat. Blood sprayed in thick streams onto the floor and the figure dropped Jacob?s lifeless body onto the ground.

Jacob awoke with a blood-curdling scream.

He couldn?t stop shaking. The sight of the blood, the feel of the steel, the fear, the absolute fear, of the figure gripped Jacob?s mind like a vice and would not let go. He could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute. Sweat was pouring off of every part of Jacob?s body. He wiped his brow with a shaking hand and laid down upon his bed in an attempt to clear his mind. That dream had seemed so real?Jacob knew that he had felt that knife cut his throat; he had felt the blood flow from his opened throat.

Jacob touched his throat. It was as fine as it had always been, no cuts or anything. He sighed to himself and rolled out of bed. He walked over to his dresser, got out some clothes and got dressed. Jacob decided that he needed answers, so he went to see the old man who owned the building. He was down at the bottom floor in the kitchen, drinking some tea.

?May I ask you a couple questions?? Jacob asked.

?Go ahead,? the old man said, taking a sip of his tea.

?Do you know what those old men upstairs dream about?? Jacob asked.

?I don?t have a clue,? the old man replied.

?You must have some idea!? Jacob said. ?How long have they been living here??

?About fifty years to my reckoning,? the old man said.

?So, how could you go that long without knowing what they dream of?!? Jacob yelled desperately.

?Look!? the old man said, smashing his teacup against the tabletop in a fit of nervous anger. ?I don?t know a god damned thing any of them dream of! I really couldn?t care less; I have no interest in that sort of thing.?

?Why not?? Jacob asked.

?That?s none of your business,? the old man said. ?If you want to know so badly, why don?t you go ask them yourself?? Jacob stood up and began to walk away.

?Fine,? he said. ?I will.? Jacob walked upstairs slowly. After a few minutes of walking, he reached the top floor and the rooms of the old men with the nightmares. He knocked on the door of the first old man and a voice told him to come in. Jacob opened the door and went inside. The old man was sitting on his bed, watching a television.

?Hello, young man,? the old man said. ?Is there something that you wanted??

?Yes, there is,? Jacob said. ?I came to ask you about something.?

?What is it?? the old man asked.

?What do you dream about?? Jacob asked.

?Dream?? the old man asked quizzically.

?Yes,? Jacob said. ?Dream.?

?I don?t have dreams,? the old man said gruffly.

?You don?t?? Jacob asked.

?No,? the old man said. ?I don?t.?

?But I?ve heard you screaming?? Jacob said. ?And the old man downstairs told me that you have nightmares.?

?He?s a damn liar,? the old man said. ?I haven?t dreamt in years.?

?But?? Jacob started.

?Get the hell out of here, kid,? the old man said. ?You?re starting to bug me.? Jacob got up and left the room. He went into the second old man?s room in the hopes that he would have better luck in there. He opened the door and went inside. Just like the first one, this old man was also reclining on his bed and watching television.

?Hello, sir,? Jacob said.

?Hello, young man,? the second old man said. ?Is there something that I can do for you??

?I came here to ask you something,? Jacob said.

?Ask away,? the old man invited.

?What do you dream of at night?? Jacob asked. The reaction that Jacob got was similar to the first reaction: A vehement denial of the old man having dreams of any sort and a plea, yelling and cursing, for Jacob to leave his room. Jacob left the old man?s room, dejected. He was about to pass the last old man?s room when he decided to go in there just for the hell of it. He lightly rapped on the front of the door. There was no reply, so Jacob went ahead and walked inside. The old man inside was staring out the window at all of the commotion outside.

?What are you looking at?? Jacob asked.

?Life,? the old man replied with a sigh. ?Life?s passed me by in my old age.? He favored Jacob with a crooked, longing smile. Jacob pulled up a chair and sat down next to the old man. The sun was starting to rise and there were already people heading off to their respective jobs.

?Not a lot of luck with the other guys, huh?? the old man asked Jacob. Jacob raised his eyebrow and looked over at the old man.

?How did you know about that?? Jacob asked.

?I?m not in denial,? the old man replied. ?My senses are still sharp, even after seventy years. They haven?t deteriorated at all since the day I was born.?

?So?? Jacob started. ?You know what I was asking about?? The old man nodded.

?Yes,? he said. ?You were wondering about the nightmares that we have.?

?Yes,? Jacob said, his eyes widening. ?What do you dream about??

?We dream about the things we?re trying to forget,? the old man said. ?But it doesn?t work. We can suppress the memories as much as we want, but they?ll always resurface in our subconscious.? He took a moment to turn around and wheeze a raspy cough. ?We can never forget the horrors of what happened.?

?The Seven Year War??? Jacob asked hesitantly. The old man nodded in reply. ?What do you remember about it?? Jacob asked, hope rising in his chest.

?Death,? the old man said gravely. ?Nothing but death. The smell of it, the taste of it, the sight of it, the feel of it. Those times meant nothing but death; we were puppets, you see, a band of hired guns. The Army is nothing but hired guns, they just don?t get paid. All we did was kill people and we weren?t discriminate about it?we all followed our orders like a flock of blind sheep.? The old man spat bitterly onto the floor.

?That?s horrible?? Jacob said, feeling sick to his stomach.

?Yes,? the old man said.

?I have one more thing that I want to ask you,? Jacob said.

?What is it?? the old man asked.

?How is it that you can sleep soundly while the other old men thrash and moan in their sleep?? Jacob asked. The old man sighed heavily and looked back outside, tears streaming slowly down his face.

?They still fight the dreams,? the old man said. ?They don?t want the memories and they?re willing to do anything to get rid of them. The mental torture they experience in their dreams is astounding?I should know, I used to be the same way.?

?What happened?? Jacob asked.

?I gave up,? the old man said. ?I gave in to that nightmarish horror world to ease my suffering?but it hasn?t eased my suffering at all. I?m immersed completely in it, I?m controlled by it. Those horrible memories have been nothing but a virtual damnation ever since they started!?

?I?m sorry?? Jacob muttered, not knowing what else to say.

?There?s nothing to be sorry about,? the old man said mockingly. ?I?m in perfect health, I sleep soundlessly every night, I have a good home?I should be the happiest man in the world!? Jacob got up and started over towards the door.

?You want to know more, don?t you?? the old man asked. Jacob halted.

?Yes,? he answered.

?Stop while you?re ahead,? the old man warned. ?It?ll cause you nothing but pain and suffering. It?s not worth it!?

?I already have pain and suffering,? Jacob said, smiling a crooked smile. ?I might as well know why.? Jacob left the room and walked downstairs past the old man who owned the building.

?Did you find out what you wanted?? the old man asked.

?No,? Jacob answered. ?Just more questions.? He opened the door, walked through it and closed it. He began walking down the sidewalk while the third old man watched him through the window of his room.

EDIT: Some edits pertaining to awkward words and sentences.

Solo Tremaine · May 21, 2004

[COLOR=#503F86]I love this, Shin ^__^ I wish I'd started reading it sooner, heh.

The premise is great. I love the descriptive style you have, they way everything's depicted is reflective of the story itself, and the new, creepy artificial world that seems to have been created. The dialogue's well-written too. I couldn't help reading the man in black's lines aloud to try and find a voice for him.

One thing I noticed about the first chapter, and a few times later on, is the repetition of individual words or phrases in paragraphs. As I first started reading it, I kept coming across 'hospital'. It's kind of odd. But the whole thing's good, and it's kind of indicative of the new place that Jacob's found himself in anyway, so it's not really a biggie. I'd try not to repeat too much that often though- the more variety in your sentences you can get, the richer the overall picture.

But yeah, really great stuff ^_^ I look forward to the next chapter.[/COLOR]

Shinmaru · May 21, 2004

[quote name='Solo Tremaine][COLOR=#503F86']One thing I noticed about the first chapter, and a few times later on, is the repetition of individual words or phrases in paragraphs ... I'd try not to repeat too much that often though- the more variety in your sentences you can get, the richer the overall picture.[/COLOR][/quote]

Yeah, that's a bit of a problem, heh. I'll probably go back and revise that when I have the time. At some parts of the story, the repetition is intentional (such as the repeating of 'cursory glance' and 'coquettishly' in the first chapter) and other times, it's not intentional, so I think I'll have to go in there and fix it up a bit. That could cause a bit of confusion if people don't know when the repetition is intentional or not, especially since I'm using it as a literary device lol.

I think two chapters in a day is a bit much, so I won't put chapter five in this post, unless nobody else replies, in which case I'll edit it into this post tomorrow or Sunday. I'm still working on chapter nine at the moment ^_^

Mimmsicle · May 24, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]The last chapter was disturbing, but good. It all felt sickly and confusing, like it must have for Jacob *shivers*[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]I thought the scenes with the old men were magnificent. How the first two couldn't talk about it, still being in denial and the last one accepting it, but not getting more peace of mind at all.[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]Where will all this lead ? Solo and I (along with everyone else) would like to know *bites pencil*[/color][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · May 24, 2004

Yay! I was going to edit it into my last post, but since Mimmi replied, then I can make an all new post for the fifth chapter. Hurrah! By the way, I finished chapter nine, but I've not started on chapter ten yet, because I'm working on another story at the moment (one that won't get posted until I'm done with all six parts). After I'm done with the first part of that story, I'll work on chapter ten of this story. So, yes, something else to look forward to, as well ^_^;

[center][b][u]Chapter Five: Dr. Milo[/center][/b][/u]

There was a large stack of paperwork on Dr. Milo?s desk.

Dr. Milo leaned back on his chair and tried to rest his feet on his desk. However, there was far too much paper everywhere for him to find a comfortable spot to put his feet. He sighed with frustration and reverted back to his normal sitting position. He pushed a button and his intercom system turned on. He picked up the microphone and began to speak into it.

?Get someone in here to clean up all this paperwork off of my desk,? Dr. Milo ordered.

?Yes, sir,? came the reply from the other end. A few seconds later, an attendant entered the room, gathered up all of the paper and exited the room. Dr. Milo sighed happily, leaned back in his chair and placed his feet onto his desk. At that moment, his door opened. Colonel Jameson strode into the room angrily. Colonel Jameson was a short man with an even shorter fuse. He stroked the thick beard on his face with annoyance as he glared at Dr. Milo, nostrils flaring.

?Just what the hell are you doing, Milo?!? Colonel Jameson shouted.

?That?s [I]Dr.[/I] Milo,? Dr. Milo corrected. ?I?m a scientist, you know.?

?I don?t give a damn [I]what[/I] you are!? Colonel Jameson yelled. Suddenly, Colonel Jameson became confused. ?Where did all of that paper on your desk go??

?I came in early and finished all of the work off,? Dr. Milo replied.

?You?re damn lucky that you?re so invaluable to us, Milo,? Colonel Jameson said. ?Not like that lazy bastard, Captain Jack. Where the hell is he, anyway??

?I don?t know,? Dr. Milo said. ?He never seemed like a hard worker to me, anyway. Honestly, he always seemed like he wanted to undermine your authority.? Colonel Jameson nodded.

?Yes, it always seemed like that to me, too,? Colonel Jameson said. ?I?ll have to take care of it right away.?

?Yes, I think that would be very smart of you,? Dr. Milo said. Colonel Jameson strode out of the room and Dr. Milo snickered to himself. Jameson was such a fool. He?d believe anything if it fed his ego. Dr. Milo got out a sheet of paper and started writing out his itinerary for the day. His door opened and Captain Jack walked into the room, eating the last remnants of a biscuit.

?Did you have a nice breakfast?? Dr. Milo asked sarcastically.

?Yes, as a matter of fact, I did,? Captain Jack replied. ?I went down to that one diner down the street from the apartment building with those psychos we let loose. They serve some damn good food there.? Captain Jack finished off his biscuit and took a couple gulps from the coffee cup that was on Dr. Milo?s desk. Dr. Milo frowned and looked up at Captain Jack.

?I?ll have to keep that in mind,? Dr. Milo said. ?By the way, are you aware that Colonel Jameson is off on another one of his witch hunts??

?Again?? Captain Jack asked incredulously. ?Doesn?t he ever get tired of that??

?Apparently not,? Dr. Milo replied flatly. ?I?m just warning you that you?re his current target.? Captain Jack swore under his breath. Dr. Milo got up and patted Captain Jack?s shoulder very assuringly. ?It?s okay, you know that Colonel Jameson won?t be able to prove whatever he wants to prove. The man is a blowhard and nothing more.?

?Yeah, but suppose he gets some dirt on me!? Captain Jack said. ?This is the only place I?ve got, Milo! I can?t go anywhere other than here!?

?That?s [I]Dr.[/I] Milo,? Dr. Milo said.

?Right,? Captain Jack said. ?Dr. Milo.?

?I?ll take care of everything for you,? Dr. Milo said. ?In the meantime, just give him the cold shoulder.?

?Sure thing, pal!? Captain Jack said. And, with that, Captain Jack turned and left the room. Dr. Milo grumbled to himself and tossed his coffee mug in the garbage. It was useless now that Captain Jack had gotten his grubby hands on it. Dr. Milo walked out of his room and over to the elevator. He pressed a button and a robotic voice spoke up.

?Access card required,? the voice said. Dr. Milo swiped his access card through the slot next to the elevator buttons. ?Access granted.? The elevator doors opened and Dr. Milo stepped inside of the elevator. Dr. Milo punched a couple of buttons and waited for the elevator to start up. It lurched upwards slightly and speeded up to a steady ascension. Dr. Milo stood against the wall and waited patiently to arrive at his destination. The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened. Dr. Milo walked out of the elevator and walked smoothly over to General Rogers? office.

Dr. Milo opened the door and walked inside. He was about to go into General Rogers? area, when he was halted by a secretary.

?Excuse me,? the secretary said. ?Where do you think you are going??

?I?m going to see General Rogers,? Dr. Milo said. ?I have business to discuss.?

?Who the hell do you think you are?? the secretary asked. Dr. Milo paid no heed to this and walked over to General Rogers? area. General Rogers was talking to a couple of attendants. As soon as they saw Dr. Milo stride into the room, they left. Dr. Milo stood in front of General Rogers?s desk.

?Is there something you want to talk to me about?? General Rogers asked.

?Yes, there is,? Dr. Milo said. ?It?s about these two people around my area??

?Which two people?? General Rogers asked.

?Colonel Jameson and Captain Jack,? Dr. Milo replied. ?They?ve been going at it for a while now. It?s putting a damper on some of the projects we have going on, General.?

?That?s not a good thing,? General Rogers said. ?And don?t call me general. I?m the president of this land, for God?s sakes.?

?I?m sorry, Mr. President,? Dr. Milo smirked.

?Well, what do you suggest I do?? General Rogers asked.

?I would suggest firing the both of them,? Dr. Milo said.

?I don?t know,? General Rogers replied. ?It seems that every time I fire people, I get a load of complaints the next day.?

?You won?t have a thing to worry about, sir,? Dr. Milo said. ?I?ll take care of that.?

?Good, good,? General Rogers said. ?How is that report coming along??

?It?s going great,? said Dr. Milo, who really didn?t have a clue how it was going. ?The boy in question recently resurfaced and we?re getting close to tracking him down.?

?He resurfaced?? General Rogers asked.

?Why, yes, sir,? Dr. Milo said, careful to conceal the fact that he was just making this up as he went along. ?Didn?t you know??

?No, I didn?t!? General Rogers yelled. ?I?ll have someone?s job for this!?

?Might I suggest Colonel Jameson and Captain Black, sir?? Dr. Milo suggested.

?That?s a great idea!? General Rogers shouted. ?I?ll take care of that myself!?

?Glad to hear it,? Dr. Milo said. ?Now, about that raise I requested??

?What?? General Rogers asked. ?Oh, sure, whatever?it?s all yours?? Dr. Milo smiled smugly to himself and turned to leave the room. He repeated all of the procedures necessary to gain entry to General Rogers? office in reverse order, except for one addition; he made sure to inform the secretary that she was fired.

Dr. Milo stepped out of the elevator and back into his office. There was a fresh pile of paper on his desk, but instead of delegating this work to another person, Dr. Milo decided to read it himself. That slip of the tongue in General Rogers? office was far too close for comfort?from now on, Dr. Milo had to make sure that he had his facts straight if he wanted to stay in good company with General Rogers. Dr. Milo dug through each paper, but could find no trace of the boy from the war.

An attendant ran into Dr. Milo?s office with a small paper in his hand. He handed it to Dr. Milo who stared down at it with confusion.

?What the hell is this?? Dr. Milo asked.

?It?s a receipt,? the attendant said.

?A receipt?? Dr. Milo asked. ?What am I going to do with this??

?We believe that the boy from the war is working at that bakery,? the attendant said. ?On account of the fact that someone saw the boy walking out of that bakery a couple nights ago.? Dr. Milo thought that this evidence was truly ridiculous, but he had nothing else to go on. Besides, he reasoned to himself, he could always shift the blame to someone else if it came to that. His superiors would be more than willing to blame other people for Dr. Milo?s mistakes, because Dr. Milo was of infinite value.

?Set up some plans and clear it through the bureaucracy,? Dr. Milo said. ?And then we?ll go after that bakery.? The attendant nodded and left the room.

Relatively short, but still important since the character of Dr. Milo needs to be introduced and fleshed out a bit. Anyway, I look forward to hearing more comments and critique ^_^

EDIT: Some revision here and there.

Mimmsicle · May 25, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]This chapter was superbly funny, to the point and it had a great pace. [/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]You've done a great job on Milo's character and the way he interracts with people around him. [/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]Once I've read the entire story, I'll try to give you a more intelligent review than the ones I've given you on each chapter :p[/color][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · May 26, 2004

[quote name='Mimmi][font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]You've done a great job on Milo's character and the way he interracts with people around him. [/color][/size'][/font][/quote]

Ahem...that's [i]Dr.[/i] Milo :p

Sorry, I couldn't resist. lol

Anyway, I like your little mini-reviews, Mimmi, though I am very much looking forward to your overal assessment of my little mini-novel once I am finished with it ^_^ I finished Chapter Ten this morning, so I have decided to post Chapter Six right now. Enjoy!

[b][u][center]Chapter Six: Captain Jack?s Breakfast[/b][/u][/center]

Jacob walked down the street with his head bowed down slightly. There were not very many people on the sidewalks in the early hours of the morning, so Jacob had free reign to walk as he pleased on the sidewalk. Jacob's thoughts were currently focused upon the dreams of the old men.

?I have to know what they were about,? Jacob muttered to himself. ?So far, I?ve had two separate nightmares?did either of those events [i]really happen[/i]? Or were they just tricks that my mind is playing on me?? Jacob kicked a rock into the street. ?But those old men were having nightmares, too. I?m certain that their dreams are similar to my own?and this Seven Year War?what is it? Why does everyone refuse to discuss it? Do they even remember? I?m so confused!?

Jacob looked up and saw that he was standing in front of the entrance to the diner. Today was Jacob?s first day on the job. He decided to put his thoughts at rest for now and just concentrate on his work. He opened the door and stepped inside. He closed the door and listened to the jingle-jangle of the bells that were attached to the handle of the door. The manager of the diner came out from the back and greeted Jacob jovially.

?Ah, good to see you here, boy!? the manager said. ?Ready for a hard day?s work??

?Yes, sir,? Jacob said.

?Good, good,? the manager said. ?Julia is in the back, cleaning up a bit. After she?s finished with that, she?ll show you the ropes. You really won?t be doing that much today, since you?re a bit inexperienced. You might wait a couple tables and work the cash register a bit. Also, I?ll put you on clean-up duty afterwards. Does that sound good??

?Yes, sir,? Jacob replied.

?Fantastic,? the manager said. ?Now, I have to go out and get some supplies. Be sure to fix up the place before we have to open, okay?? The manager opened the door and left the diner. Jacob seated himself at one of the tables and placed his hand onto his chin. He stared outside. The sun was rising slowly, bathing the streets in a soft, orange glow. There was about an hour or so until the diner would be opening.

Jacob stood up and walked over to the back room. He opened the door and stepped inside. Julia was finishing up her cleaning in the middle of the room. Jacob closed the door and Julia looked over at him. She immediately switched her gaze back to the floor, evading Jacob?s steady gaze. Jacob walked over to her.

?Would you mind if I helped you?? Jacob asked.

?No,? Julia said. ?It?s fine. I-I can handle this just fine, thank you. Just?just wait in the front, okay?? Jacob frowned slightly, but did as he was told. He went back to the front of the building and sat down on a stool near the front table, beside the cash register. He grabbed a toothpick and started to twirl it around in his fingers. After a couple of minutes, Julia emerged from the back room, carrying a mop. She set it into the bucket that she was also carrying and put it against the wall. She walked tentatively up to Jacob.

?First, I?m going to show you how to work the cash register,? she said. Jacob nodded in reply. Julia opened up a side door and went around the front table to the cash register. She patiently showed Jacob how to work it. She showed him the buttons for opening and closing it, along with the buttons to calculate a person?s tab and their change. The system was ridiculously easy to understand, but Julia still went through the steps slowly, because not many people who had worked alongside of her had been able to grasp the concept as quickly as Jacob did.

After that, Julia walked him through the procedure for waiting tables. She taught him the number system associated with the foods that they served so that Jacob would not have to refer to the menu constantly to understand what the people were ordering. Again, Jacob caught onto this very quickly and had the number system memorized within a matter of seconds. Julia was impressed slightly, but managed to conceal this by avoiding looking at Jacob.

?Now, all that is left is to clean the room,? Julia said. ?Since you understood everything else so easily, this should be a snap.? She handed the mop to him and set him off to work. Jacob began mopping around clumsily. He was cleaning a few spots in the room, but mostly he was spreading the dirt and grime around the same circular area. Julia blinked twice before she began to become a bit frustrated. She took a hold of Jacob?s arms, at which he winced slightly, and began to help him mop.

?See, this is how you do it,? Julia said. ?It?s not too difficult.?

?Oh?thank you very much,? Jacob said, smiling at Julia. She noticed that her hands were still clutching Jacob?s hands and immediately took them off, turning slightly red and grumbling to herself a bit. ?What?s wrong?? Jacob asked.

?What?? Julia asked. ?Nothing?s wrong! My hands are just dirty, that?s all. I need to go wash them right away. Just keep cleaning up.? Julia went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Her behavior confused Jacob a bit, but he shrugged and started mopping up again. By the time Julia came out from the bathroom, the floor was spotless.

?How did you get this done so fast?? Julia asked, astonished.

?I just did what you told me to,? Jacob said timidly. ?It worked pretty well.? Just then, the manager walked into the room carrying a box of supplies and set it down upon one of the tables.

?You two have done a great job with the place,? he said. He turned over to Julia. ?Did you show him everything that I told you to??

?Yes, sir,? Julia replied.

?Fantastic,? the manager said. ?You two will get a little extra in your paychecks at the end of the week for that. Go carry that box to the back, okay?? Julia and Jacob lifted up the box, carried it to the back room and dropped it near the door. They went back to the front room, where the manager was tidying up the windows a bit. Julia went to put away the mop and Jacob sat down on a stool. He looked over at Julia and studied her a bit, as this was the first time that he had really gotten a good look at her. She was tall, a couple inches shorter than Jacob, with straight brown hair that went down to her shoulders. She had compassionate, intelligent brown eyes and delicate facial features. She had the figure of a dancer, slender and athletic, which made it all the more strange that she would be working in a diner as a waitress.

Jacob looked up at the convex mirror near the roof, which distorted his own facial features beyond all recognition. He frowned at this and stole a look at the window near where he was sitting, which showed his faded reflection. He studied his own features for a few seconds: His short brown air, his soft brown eyes and his sharp facial features that commanded attention; it was a sort of paradox that someone who had as meek a personality as Jacob could have features that commanded so much attention.

Jacob looked down at his hands. He flexed his fingers and twisted his arm around a bit. He had smooth muscles that were just as strong as any bodybuilder?s; their strength, however, did not lie in brute force, but speed and instinctual reactions. Jacob looked back at his faded reflection. Several thoughts were buzzing through his mind all at once, but the one that was picking at him most was not focused upon the nightmares nor the Seven Year War. He stole a look back over at Julia, whom was now looking at something out the side window.

What Jacob was wondering about was why Julia kept acting so awkwardly around him. Many of Jacob?s memories had faded away, except for those scattered memories that his subconscious kept a stranglehold on in his nightmares, but Jacob could hear a biting voice in his mind telling him that her behavior was very peculiar. He decided to ignore this, however, because he felt that pressing the issue too much could make the situation even worse.

?What are you doing?? the manager yelled over to Jacob. ?Stop screwing around! It?s just about time for the diner to open up! Get behind the cash register!? Jacob complied with this order and got behind the cash register. The manager switched the front sign from ?Closed? to ?Open? and unlocked the door. About five minutes later, a steady stream of customers started to file into the diner. The manager went behind the counter and started cooking the meals, while Julia took orders and Jacob stood behind the register relaying the orders to the manager.

After an hour or so, the first shift change took place. The manager took Jacob?s place behind the register, Julia went to the back to cook and Jacob began to wait the tables. Jacob waited about four or five people before a man walked into the room. He was tall and skinny, with a pencil-thin black mustache and a black army cap. He was dressed in a buttoned-up black trenchcoat with black army boots. He took a seat at the table near the door and Jacob went over to take his order.

?May I take your order, sir?? Jacob asked.

?Just call me Jack,? the man said.

?Okay, Jack,? Jacob said. ?May I take your order??

?That?s better,? Jack said. ?I?d like some bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs and a banana on the side.?

?Anything to drink, sir?? Jacob asked.

?Get me a glass of orange juice,? Jack said, after a bit of hesitation. ?Oh, and I?d like a biscuit to go along with that, okay??

?Yes, sir,? Jacob said, writing everything down. He took the list over to the manager, who yelled instructions over to Julia.

?Hey, kid!? Jack yelled. ?How about taking a seat over here?? Jacob looked over at the manager, who shrugged at him. Jacob walked over to Jack and sat down on the seat across from him.

?Uh?is there something you wanted, sir?? Jacob asked.

?Call me Jack,? Jack said. ?I just wanted someone to talk to.?

?Oh,? Jacob said. ?Okay.?

?How long have you been working here, kid?? Jack asked.

?This is my first day,? Jacob answered.

?Oh, is that so?? Jack said. ?So, have you been in the neighborhood very long??

?No, not really,? Jacob replied.

?That?s too bad,? Jack said. ?Say, have you ever been to the bakery down the street?? Jacob peered at Jack suspiciously.

?No, I haven?t,? Jacob said. ?Even if I had, why would it matter??

?Well,? Jack said, leaning in close to Jacob and whispering. ?Keep this under your hat, kid. The government is on the hunt for some kid.?

?The government?? Jacob asked.

?Yeah,? Jack said. ?The kid escaped from a government regulated hospital. I don?t really know too much about it because I?m one of their lower-level guys, but it sounds like serious business to me.?

?Why do they want this person so badly?? Jacob asked.

?I?m not sure,? Jack answered. ?There are a lot of crazy rumors and junk floating around. You really don?t know what you can believe these days.? Before Jacob could ask another question, the manager called out to him.

?You?ve fooled around enough, Jacob!? he yelled. ?Get back to work!? Jacob sprang to his feet quickly.

?Yes, sir!? Jacob ran to the back to retrieve the prepared food and began to hand it out to the people whom had ordered it. He finally got to Jack?s table and handed him his food. A while later, Jack put the money on the table and got up to leave.

?I left you a little extra, kid,? Jack said. ?Remember to keep everything under your hat.?

?Uh, sure,? Jacob said. ?I?ll remember that.? Jack strode out of the diner, still eating the last remnants of his banana and carrying a biscuit in a doggy bag. He got into his car, ate the final chunk of his banana and began to drive off. When he got into traffic, he threw the peel of the banana out of the window. The banana peel landed on the front window of a car. This threw the driver into a panic and they began to twist and turn their car in a frantic attempt to regain control. Of course, this did not work, and the car got into a major accident.

?Oh crap,? Captain Jack muttered. ?I have to get the hell out of here. If I get caught in this, then I?m screwed.? Captain Jack roared away in his car, while police sirens blared in the background. Everyone in the diner got up and ran outside, except for Jacob, Julia and the manager.

?Great, this is just what I needed!? the manager yelled. ?All of my customers are leaving!? Julia peered outside at the accident.

?It looks extremely serious,? she noted. ?It?ll take a while for the road to clear up.?

?God damn it,? the manager said. ?Well, that pretty much kills business for the entire day. You might as well go home.?

?My home is blocked off by the accident area,? Jacob said.

?So is mine,? Julia added.

?Well, damn it all!? the manager shouted. ?Then just stay here for the rest of the day!? The manager stormed off to the back room to sulk. Jacob sat down and took a drink from a coffee mug, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

EDIT: More revisions and stuff...I've been busy o_O

terra · May 27, 2004

[size=1]Hi Shin! :) I've only had time to read the first two chapters so far, but I'm going to come back for the rest, I promise.[/size]

[quote name='Solo Tremaine][COLOR=#503F86']One thing I noticed about the first chapter, and a few times later on, is the repetition of individual words or phrases in paragraphs. ... I'd try not to repeat too much that often though- the more variety in your sentences you can get, the richer the overall picture.[/COLOR][/quote]
[size=1]I agree, this was one of the comments I was going to make as well. It's also part of a problem I had with the overall narration of the story; sometimes things just seem to be worded very strangely. For example:[/size]

[quote name='Shinmaru']Jacob concluded that he was walking around in circles, which was an astute observation that could only be reached when one realized that the hospital was built so that one could only walk around in circles.[/quote]
[size=1]This sentence feels really awkward to me, and I had to read it a couple of times before I quite understood what you were saying. On one hand it's interesting since the sentence itself goes around in circles like the hospital does, but on the other hand it threw me off during the reading, interrupted my "reading flow" if you will. (Okay, so now I'm the one who's wording things weirdly, but ... well too bad! :p) I think it causes a little more harm than good because of that.

Also,[/size]
[quote name='Shinmaru']As soon as Jacob finished the last doughnut in the box, a man entered the bakery.[/quote]
[size=1]I think this sentence should instead be worded, "Just as Jacob was finishing the last donut in the box, a man entered the bakery." The way you have it written makes it seem like Jacob's finishing the donut [i]caused[/i] the man to enter the bakery, which sounds a little strange to me.

There are other little things like the two sentences I pulled from above that made me feel like the narration was moving strangely. I think the best way to handle this is to make sure to read the story to yourself and see if you stumble over any of your own words, or even better, to read it aloud. (Then people tend to think you're crazy, though. But of course that never stops me.)

But I'm not saying you should completely change the style of narration, of course, because a lot of it does add to the creepy atmosphere of the story. What I mean is, you can use the way you write to add to the story, but just keep making sure it doesn't detract from the reader's experience.

One other thing:[/size]
[quote name='Shinmaru']"I?ve been looking for you for a while now," the stranger said in a menacing tone.[/quote]
[size=1]In cases like this, it's always best to show the stranger is menacing rather than to just tell the readers. Merely saying he was menacing won't have quite the same effect on a reader as, say, having the stranger appear from the shadows, or even making the stranger "loom menacingly" over Jacob, or something along those lines -- if you see what I mean. It's the old creative writing maxim of "show, don't tell" that you've probably heard many times before.

I'm done with the constructive criticism, now onto the praise :p. I'm interested in the storyline, and like I said, you do create a very creepy atmosphere, both with your writing style and the characters that you put into Jacob's experience. In the second chapter, I really like how the guy in the baker's shop starts out looking like a really nice, normal guy, then evolves into something way more twisted and creepy. Then, since he's followed by two other creepy characters (the guy with the gun and the woman on the subway), the whole world starts to look pretty scary and we get the feeling that something very, very wrong is happening -- I think all of that works very well, so nice job. And I'll be back again later. :p[/size]

Shinmaru · May 27, 2004

*nods in agreement* Yes, I see what you mean...I'm still prone to awkward sentences from time to time, heh. I'm not much of a revisionist (is that a word? I have no idea), but I will make strides to improve. That first example you pointed out is something that I won't change, mostly because, as you pointed out, it's structured much like the hospital itself; in circles and confusing. That's just how I intended it, heh.

But the other examples you pointed out, yes, those definitely could use some revision, heh. I'm glad that you took the time to really read through this stuff and point these things out to me because I am by no means a perfect writer (nor do I really consider myself a perfect writer lol), so I'm more than willing to listen to advice on where I stumbled a bit during my stories ^_^

So, yeah, I'm off to do some revision right now; hopefully, that will permanently etch into my brain that I need to place more of an emphasis on revision when I write, haha.

I'll edit the next chapter into this post if the thread receives no further replies.

Mimmsicle · May 28, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]Did someone call my name ? :p[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]Regarding the last chapter, I am absolutely enthralled by how weird you make these situations and yet they appear perfectly normal. Because in one minute I'm thinking "uhm, what was that ?", but then the characters react as if it was nothing or they say/do something equally weird, and it all makes sense somehow. [/color][/size][/font]
[color=#8b0000][/color][font=Verdana][size=1] [/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]You're not mirroring the world in which [i]we[/i] live in, so of course it'll be weird[er] if I/we go by our standards and compare the two. And let's face it, this world is seriously weird :P[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]Also, in a way, Jacob helps the reader to get to grips with everything, because he's not familiar with this place either. Though he still has some knowledge to it, he just can't remember it, and instinctively knows how to respond to situations.[/color][/size][/font]
[color=#8b0000][/color][font=Verdana][size=1] [/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]I don't know how much sense I just made, but simply put: I love the atmosphere you've injected into this story. It makes for an enchanted read.[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]*turns the page* ~_^[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · May 28, 2004

[QUOTE=Mimmi][font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]Regarding the last chapter, I am absolutely enthralled by how weird you make these situations and yet they appear perfectly normal. Because in one minute I'm thinking "uhm, what was that ?", but then the characters react as if it was nothing or they say/do something equally weird, and it all makes sense somehow.

Also, in a way, Jacob helps the reader to get to grips with everything, because he's not familiar with this place either. Though he still has some knowledge to it, he just can't remember it, and instinctively knows how to respond to situations.[/size][/font][/QUOTE][/color]

Exactly ^_^ Jacob is much like the reader; thrown into a world that they're not familiar with and struggling to get some sort of understanding of where they are. To everyone else, this world is perfectly normal, for better or for worse, but in the back of his mind, Jacob just cannot accept any of this world, because he can't understand it.

Anyway, this chapter is yet another short one...they get longer after this one. I swear.

[b][u][center]Chapter Seven: The Conversation[/b][/u][/center]

The manager left the diner at closing time. He lived in the opposite direction of the diner, so he had no problems getting home. However, the accident area was still cut off, so Jacob and Julia had no choice but to stay in the diner for the remainder of the evening. Jacob and Julia spent their first hour cleaning the diner after they ate their dinner, which consisted of breakfast items stored in the back of the diner, since the manager had not gotten an opportunity to retrieve dinner food.

After they were finished cleaning, Jacob and Julia hung out at opposite sides of the diner. Jacob wanted desperately to speak with Julia, but she would have none of it. What confused Jacob most was that he could tell that she wanted to talk with him as much as he wanted to talk with her, but she was refusing it, for some inexplicable reason. She looked over at Jacob often and, when he would catch a glimpse of her looking at him, she would turn away quickly, pretending that she was looking at something else.

?Why do you keep doing that?? Jacob asked.

?Doing what?? Julia asked in reply.

?You keep looking at me,? Jacob answered. ?And then you keep turning away.?

?No, I don?t,? Julia answered. Jacob was going to argue further, but he decided that it was not worth it. Jacob continued to sit at the front table and began to play around with a toothpick. Soon, Julia got bored of staring out the window and began to walk around the diner.

?Julia?? Jacob said.

??what is it?? Julia asked.

?How long have you been working here?? Jacob questioned.

?About seven years now,? Julia replied.

?But the manager said he put that help wanted sign out when he hired you,? Jacob said. ?It hasn?t been out there that long, has it??

?How should I know?? Julia replied. ?I never really noticed it before.? Jacob looked over at the cash register.

?Do you mind if I ask you something personal?? Jacob asked.

?As long as it?s not too personal,? Julia replied.

?What kinds of things do you dream about?? Jacob asked.

?What kind of question is that?? Julia asked.

?An important one,? Jacob retorted.

?I?don?t have many dreams at all,? Julia said.

?Are you sure?? Jacob asked.

?Yes,? Julia said. ?I?m completely sure.? Jacob sighed and buried his head in his arms. ?What?s wrong?? Julia asked him.

?Everything,? Jacob said.

?Well, that narrows it down quite a bit,? Julia quipped.

?I?m just a bit frustrated,? Jacob said.

?Why?? Julia asked.

?You wouldn?t believe me if I told you,? Jacob groused.

?Try me,? Julia replied.

?Well,? Jacob said. ?Apparently, I?ve been in a hospital for fifty years. Fifty years! But I didn?t remember a thing?all I have are scattered memories and dreams. I don?t remember who I am, what I am, nothing.? Julia put her arms on the table and turned her head away from Jacob a bit. ?You don?t believe me, do you?? Jacob asked.

?It [i]is[/i] an unbelievable story,? Julia admitted. ?But, somehow, I get the feeling that you?re telling the truth??

?That?s good, at least,? Jacob said. He stole a look at Julia?s hand, which was laying upon the table, fingers tapping gracefully against it. Jacob?s hand moved towards hers, slowly at first. He touched her hand with one of his fingers, but she did not seem to notice. Jacob took her hand in his and she turned around. Once she saw what Jacob had done, she turned slightly red.

?What are you doing?!? she yelled, pulling her hand free and flailing her other arm out towards Jacob. Jacob raised his own arms up in defense, emitted a sharp, high-pitched noise and fell out of his stool. Julia calmed down and went over to Jacob. ?Are you okay?? she asked.

?Yeah,? Jacob said, his heart beating a mile a minute. ?I guess I?m okay.?

?What happened?? Julia asked.

?I fell out of the chair,? Jacob answered.

?Well, that much was obvious,? Julia said. ?But why did you fall out of the chair??

?I didn?t want to get hit, I guess,? Jacob muttered.

?I wasn?t going to hit you, though,? Julia replied.

?Well, I didn?t know that,? Jacob said. Julia held her arm out to Jacob and, after a slight hesitation, he accepted her help and she helped him back to his feet. He dusted himself off and sat back down on the stool. Julia turned around to face the window again. It was dark outside. There were still some people walking around at the dead of night, but overall, there was not much activity taking place outside. The soft glow of the moonlight was creeping slowly over the buildings across the street and faint traces of light could be seen in the street. Julia walked over to Jacob and tapped him on the shoulder. Jacob looked over his shoulder at her.

?We might as well set up our beds,? Julia said.

?Are we both going to sleep in here?? Jacob asked.

?Of course,? Julia answered. ?But not together, if that?s what you?re implying! You?re going to sleep on one side of the diner and I?m going to sleep on the other side.?

?Why?? Jacob asked.

?Because it?s not decent for two people who barely know each other to sleep together, that?s why!? Julia said.

?It?s just sleep?? Jacob muttered to himself. Julia went into the back room for a couple minutes. When she emerged from the room, she was carrying a couple of blankets and pillows in her arms. She bundled up a blanket and threw it at Jacob. After he caught it, she threw a pillow at him. He caught that, too, and placed them both onto the floor.

?You know how to make a bed, right?? Julia asked.

?Yeah,? Jacob said. ?I think I remember how to do this.? Jacob rolled out his blanket flat onto the ground and placed the pillow at the head of the blanket. He laid himself upon the floor and got comfortable. Julia did the same with her blanket and pillow, except she bundled herself up in her blanket.

?Aren?t you going to use your blanket?? Julia asked Jacob.

?What do you mean?? Jacob asked.

?It?s freezing in here,? Julia said, shivering a bit, goose bumps spreading across her arms and legs.

?I don?t think it?s so cold in here,? Jacob said. ?It feels kind of nice, actually. Anyway, the floor is hard. I?d rather use the blanket to protect myself from the floor than the cold air.? Julia shrugged, turned around and bundled herself up even more. After about half an hour, Julia and Jacob were still wide awake and both were looking up at the ceiling.

?Jacob??? Julia asked. ?Are you still awake??

?Yeah,? Jacob said. ?I?m still awake.?

??what are you doing?? Julia asked.

?I?m trying to get to sleep,? Jacob answered nonchalantly.

?No,? Julia said. ?What are you [i]really[/i] doing??

?What do you mean?? Jacob asked.

?I mean,? Julia answered. ?What are you doing here? With all that stuff you mentioned before, you have to be doing something other than working in a diner for a living, right??

?Yeah,? Jacob answered.

?So, what are you doing?? Julia asked.

?I?m trying to find myself, I guess,? Jacob answered.

?Because you can?t remember?? Julia asked.

?That?s part of it,? Jacob replied. ?But I also need something?something to validate my existence, I guess?I don?t know. The past couple days have just been really, really strange, it?s like I?m living in some sort of dream world, a fantasy land. These dreams I have, I know they?re dreams, but they seem as real as this place does. How do I know that I?m not dreaming right now? I don?t?because I don?t know who I am. But, if I really do exist, then there has to be [i]someone[/i] that knows who I am?so, I guess that?s what I?m really searching for. Proof that I exist.?

?I see?? Julia said. Jacob covered himself up in his blankets and drifted off to sleep. Julia turned on her side and looked out the window. A soft stream of moonlight was shining through the window that stopped halfway between herself and Jacob. She didn?t want to think about Jacob?s problems, because such things depressed her, but she couldn?t help herself.

?I wish I could help him,? Julia said to herself. ?I wish I could tell him?but I can?t.? Tears streamed out of Julia?s eyes, down the smooth, reddened cheeks of her face and fell softly onto the ground. She cried herself to sleep that night.

Mimmsicle · May 29, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]You sure are creating interest in Julia now, ehum.
It was nice to see how they interacted with eachother, or didn't, depending on how you look at it. Heh.[/color][/size][/font]
[size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][font=Verdana] [/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]So many questions are raised at this point and I imagine there will be even more as the story progresses. I look forward to knowing more about this tale ^_^[/color][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · May 30, 2004

Heh, this chapter was a bit tough to write...certain parts in it went over so many revisions lol. This one was a tough one to pin down, heh. But I think that the current version of the chapter that I have is good, so I'm ready to post it.

[b][u][center]Chapter Eight: Mr. Smith[/b][/u][/center]

A construction worker stood at the window of the diner, looking in at the sleeping figures of Jacob and Julia, his eyes transfixed on Jacob. He looked at Jacob, huddled in his blankets, his chest heaving up and down slowly, rhythmically. The construction worker smiled to himself, a smirk of triumph. This was where all the dreams, all the endless years of searching, had led him; to this one person. Jacob.

?Jacob,? the construction worker whispered roughly. ?I?ve found you at last.?

?Hey, what the hell do you think you?re doing?!? a voice yelled from behind him. The construction worker turned around and the foreman was standing a few feet away. ?Get back down here and get to work!?

?Yes, sir,? the construction worker said. ?I?ll get to work right now.? In a flash of movement, the construction worker grabbed the foreman?s head and twisted his neck sharply, snapping it in two. The foreman?s lifeless body drooped to the ground, twitching miserably. The construction work grinned again.

?A change of clothes would do me well,? the construction worker said to himself. He threw off his hardhat and took off the bodysuit and the boots that he was wearing. Underneath these clothes, he had on a gray shirt, gray slacks and the sunglasses that he never took off, even in the dead of night. There was a piece of paper on a lamppost that caught his attention. He walked over to it and read the declaration to himself.

?A wanted poster?? he questioned. ?How?quaint. I wouldn?t expect anything less from Rogers and his gang of bumbling idiots, though.? The man looked at the wanted poster and studied it a bit longer; there was no mistaken its target. Mr. Smith, outlaw, fifteen million dollar reward. Mr. Smith ripped off the wanted poster, crumbled it in his hands and stole a look over at the diner. ?Time to wake up, my dear.?

Jacob woke up with a start. He stood up slowly, trembling, walked over to the far end of the diner and looked out the window, but there was nobody outside. He figured that what he had just been thinking was simply another dream?but this one had seemed even more real than the others.

?That?s because this isn?t a dream,? a smooth voice said from behind Jacob. Jacob turned around and his heart skipped a beat. This was him?the figure from his last dream. He could recognize that voice from anywhere. ?I?m glad you remember me.?

?What do you want?? Jacob asked, his voice quavering slightly.

?I don?t want much,? Mr. Smith said. ?I just want to give you an opportunity.?

?An opportunity?? Jacob asked, immediately suspicious. ?What kind of opportunity??

?Now, that would spoil the surprise,? Mr. Smith said. ?And you don?t want that, do you?? Jacob stayed silent. ?There?s a big gathering happening soon at the dance hall at the other end of town. I am thinking about attending?I would like you to come there, as well. I think that it will be?[i]fun[/i], don?t you?? Jacob was not sure exactly how much fun that a dance could be, but did not object to Mr. Smith?s proposal, because he did not know how he would react to it.

?Do we have a deal?? Mr. Smith asked.

?Yes,? Jacob said, gulping slightly. ?I?ll go to your dance.?

?Excellent,? Mr. Smith grinned.

?I have conditions, though,? Jacob said, the weight of his Adam?s Apple thick in his throat.

?What are they?? Mr. Smith asked.

?Answer me some questions,? Jacob demanded.

?I?ll answer what I want to answer,? Mr. Smith replied.

?Who are you?? Jacob asked.

?Me?? Mr. Smith asked. ?I?m just an admirer of yours, that?s all.?

?Do you have a name?? Jacob asked.

?You may call me whatever you wish,? Mr. Smith said. ?Though, most see fit to call me Mr. Smith.?

?Mr. Smith?? Jacob asked. ?Don?t you have a first name??

?Most unfortunately, I was not given a first name,? Mr. Smith replied.

?Why not?? Jacob inquired.

?People work in strange ways,? Mr. Smith said, shrugging. ?Names are irrelevant in any event. Just be satisfied that you are you.? Mr. Smith began to walk away.

?Wait!? Jacob yelled. Mr. Smith stopped and turned his head over in Jacob?s direction.

?What is it?? he asked.

?Is this real?? Jacob asked. Mr. Smith chuckled to himself.

?It?s only as real as you make it,? Mr. Smith said. ?I?m sure that other people would question the believability of what has happened to you, but as long as you believe in it, it is real.?

?But what if I?m not sure if it really happened?? Jacob asked.

?That?s something you?ll have to figure out on your own,? Mr. Smith replied. ?It?s really none of my concern.? There was a thick silence as neither Mr. Smith nor Jacob moved even an inch. There was something vaguely familiar about Mr. Smith, but Jacob could not place his finger on it at all?it was as if Jacob had known Mr. Smith all his life, but did not realize it until that exact moment.

?If you?ll excuse me,? Mr. Smith said. ?I need to be going now. I?m a busy man, you know. I have lots of things to do.? Mr. Smith disappeared and Jacob awoke again. Jacob clutched his chest and looked around the room frantically. He was still in the diner, still in the same bed. Julia was still on the other side of the room. Nothing in the diner looked like it had been touched at all. The front door was still locked and there were no broken windows.

?So, this was a dream, too?? Jacob asked himself. ?I?ve had enough of these dreams?why won?t they just go away?! I don?t want them anymore!? Jacob threw himself back onto his pillow and tried to drift off to sleep, but he could not do so. The memories of his latest dream were fresh in his mind and prevented him from sleeping.

And, from outside, Mr. Smith smiled to himself once again and walked away.

The next morning, Julia awoke and stretched, yawning. Her eyes were still a bit bleary and red, but she felt rested. She peered over at Jacob, who was still wide awake. His eyes were considerably bloodshot and he looked as if he had not gotten one wink of rest.

?Jacob?? she asked. ?What?s wrong??

?I had a bad dream,? Jacob muttered. ?I didn?t get any sleep at all.?

?I see,? Julia said, frowning slightly. ?Maybe you shouldn?t work today.?

?Yeah,? Jacob said. ?I don?t think that I would do the diner any good today.?

?Do you want me to take you home?? Julia asked.

?No,? Jacob replied. ?I think I can make the walk by myself.? Jacob forced himself to his feet and slogged his way over to the front door. Julia unlocked it for him, opened it for him and stood out of the way. Jacob muttered his thanks while he dragged himself through the door.

?Well, goodbye, Jacob,? Julia said.

?Bye,? Jacob said, walking the rest of the way through the door. Jacob walked all the way to the dilapidated apartment building and shuffled his way through the door. The old man who owned the building walked up to him, apparently a bit worried.

?Are you okay?? the old man asked. ?I didn?t see you come in last night.?

?There was an accident by the diner,? Jacob replied. ?It blocked the road, so I couldn?t get home last night.?

?You look like you had a rough night,? the old man said.

?Like you wouldn?t believe,? Jacob said.

?Well, I won?t charge you rent for yesterday, since you didn?t come in,? the old man said.

?Thanks,? Jacob said, walking slowly upstairs. It seemed like it took an eternity, but he made his way up to the top where his room was. The third old man peeked out from his door and looked at Jacob.

?It?s already starting, isn?t it?? he asked. Jacob nodded slowly and wearily in reply. ?I told you that this would happen?the nightmares are only going to get worse from now on. If you want answers, you?re going to have to suffer like the rest of us.?

?I understand,? Jacob replied. He walked over to his bed, flopped himself upon it, and slept for the rest of the day.

Back at the restaurant, Julia was waiting the tables. Not many people would be coming in that day, as Julia knew, so she did not have much work to do. She had more breaks than usual that day, which gave her some much needed thinking time. During one of her breaks, Julia went to the back room, sat on one of the crates and mused.

?What kind of dreams is Jacob having?? Julia asked herself. ?He looked like he was sleeping perfectly well when I went to sleep?but, when he woke up, he looked absolutely terrible. These dreams are obviously taking a heavy toll on him. Is what he?s searching for really that [i]important[/i] to him? Is it really so important that he?s willing to bear the mental burden of these dreams in order to validate his own existence??

Julia looked around the room. Though it had been cleaned thoroughly the day before, it was messier than ever. Even in total darkness, which the room was in at that moment, it was easy to tell how messy the room actually was. There was dust in each and every crevice, mice and rats scurried from one wall to the other and the room was extremely stuffy and humid. Julia shifted uncomfortably on the crate that she was sitting on?this room was useful when it came to having a place to gather your thoughts, but it was still a nauseating hangout.

?I wonder how much he actually knows?? Julia asked herself. ?He?s going to find out everything eventually?what will happen then? What will he do when he finds out the truth, whatever the truth may be? Will he be able to take the truth at face value, or will his mind snap with the infinite possibilities of what the truth holds?? Julia took out a cigarette, but before she could light it, she tossed it onto the ground in disgust. Her mother had been a smoker, which had led to her early demise when Julia was eighteen. That had been seven years ago and it was still fresh in Julia?s mind, as if she had just gotten out of the hospital that morning with the news that her mother was dead.

Julia never liked thinking about her mother?s death, but under the current circumstances, her mother was constantly on her mind. Julia had loved her mother very much, even if her mother had not always been around for her. She was constantly busy and neglected Julia from time to time, but always seemed to come to Julia when she needed her most. Julia always appreciated her mother for knowing when she had needed her the most.

Julia was still saddened by her mother?s death, she could still feel the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that her death had left upon her, but she could no longer shed any tears for her mother, as she had cried them all out. Jacob?s fears and troubles were still fresh in her mind and she felt them deeply. She was frustrated that she felt every inkling of pain that Jacob felt?not because of the actual pain itself, but moreso with the fact that she still refused to get close to Jacob. It was obvious, to her, at least, that Jacob had a blooming interest in her, but Julia didn?t want Jacob to get close to her, because she did not want to add to his pain.

A relationship with Jacob, she reasoned, would only add to more pain for Jacob and for herself and that was the last thing that Julia wanted.

?Julia!? the manager yelled. ?Your break is up! Get back out here and serve the customers!?

?Yes, sir!? Julia yelled in reply. She got up, dusted off her apron, put it back on and walked back to the front area of the diner.

Back in Jacob?s room, he was sleeping soundly, with no nightmares for the first time in a while. All he could think about was Mr. Smith and his proposal. A dance? Why a dance? What was so special about a dance? Mr. Smith seemed like an intelligent person, so there had to be some sort of reasoning behind his choice. Even in his sleep, without the nightmares, Jacob was still troubled by his thoughts. He tossed and turned lightly, his thoughts now on Julia.

Julia?s beauty astounded him, but that was not the reason he liked her?there was something that he could feel about her, something inside. But he also knew that she was hiding something from him. She was guarding her feelings and her thoughts very closely, careful not to let Jacob get too close to her. That much was obvious to Jacob. However, there had to be a reason for Julia?s actions, as she was an intelligent person, as well. What was so important that she had to keep an emotional wall erected in order to block herself off from Jacob? What sort of things was she keeping privy to herself? Was it as simple as Julia just keeping secrets from him, or was it something deeper? Some emotional troubles, perhaps? Some fear of getting too close to others? It was obvious to Jacob that he would not get any answers from her at the moment, so he would absolutely have to meet with Mr. Smith and take his cues from there.

As far as Jacob was concerned, he would find his life, even if it meant he would die trying.

Let it be known that the next chapter of the story is my favorite of the ones I've written so far - I had a ton of fun writing it, heh. So, yeah, something to look forward to.

Mimmsicle · June 1, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]Wow, that really messed with [i]my[/i] head ...[/color][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]I am very much looking forward to understanding this world you've created, because right now I'm as confused as Jacob. That's a bad thing for Jacbo, but a good thing for the reader - it gives us an opportunity to think about what's going on. We might even go so far as to bringing those thoughts into our own world and broaden our minds ~_^[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]You've snuck in a little bit more 'Julia perspective' in this chapter, while still not giving away too much. Very nice moment ^_^[/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000][/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=#8b0000]"Feed me - I'm hungry" ;p[/color][/size][/font]

Shinmaru · June 2, 2004

Your wish is, still, my command.

So far, this chapter has been my favorite chapter to write, heh. I had a ball with this one. I hope you guys enjoy it, as well.

[b][u][center]Chapter Nine: General Rogers[/b][/u][/center]

General Rogers was a complete incompetent.

He hadn?t had anything to do in about fifty years. He could feel his life slipping away from him as he got older and older. He hadn?t had any sort of military engagement in such a long time and that?s what he missed most. In fact, the military life was really the only reason for his existence, since that was the only thing that he did with any sort of skill. General Rogers was not particularly bright nor was he really capable of leading a country of people except when it came to leading the people into a bloodbath.

And, yet, General Rogers was the president of the country. He liked the title very much and the prestige that came along with it, but there were still many things that were missing. The violence, the bloodshed, the moral victories?those were the absolute best times of General Rogers? life. While it was true that General Rogers never saw any actual action himself, as it would have been suicide for him to fight any battles, he was still very good at sending men to their deaths. There was none of that with the presidency, though; it was all treaties, bureaucracy and touchy-feely bullshit. If there was anything that General Rogers hated, it was touchy-feely bullshit.

However, his advisors all claimed that touchy-feely bullshit was essential to being a good leader. General Rogers didn?t think so, as he had sent several thousand people to their deaths without any complaint, but he did not dare speak against his advisors. After all, they were his advisors and without them, General Rogers would not have a single clue as to how to lead the country.

It was then that Dr. Milo stepped into the room. He closed the door, pulled up a chair and seated himself in front of General Rogers? desk.

?Mind if I have a cigar?? Dr. Milo asked, reaching for the cup of cigars on General Rogers? desk.

?Uh?sure,? General Rogers said. ?Go right ahead.?

?Thanks,? Dr. Milo said, already lighting the cigar. He placed his feet on the top of General Rogers? desk and leaned back contentedly. General Rogers peered at Dr. Milo quizzically and tapped the tips of Dr. Milo?s shoes lightly with his index finger.

?Was there anything in particular that you wanted to talk with me about?? General Rogers asked.

?What?? Dr. Milo said. ?Oh yes?I remember now.? Dr. Milo took the cigar out of his mouth and waggled it through the air with a flourish. ?Bureaucracy did some research and we?ve ascertained the position of the young boy that we?ve been trying to recover.?

??what does that mean?? General Rogers asked.

?It means that we know where the boy is,? Dr. Milo said, snickering to himself.

?Oh,? General Rogers said. ?That?s good, right??

?Yes, that?s very good,? Dr. Milo assured General Rogers. ?We?ve pinpointed the boy?s location to a small bakery near the hospital.?

?The one with the crazy kid?? General Rogers asked.

?Yeah,? Dr. Milo replied.

?Good!? General Rogers roared. ?I?ve been wanting to get that kid for a while now! He gave me some éclairs and my stomach was upset for a week!?

?We?re not going to get [i]him[/i],? Dr. Milo sniggered. ?We just want the boy.?

?Well, that?s no fun,? General Rogers sulked.

?We can burn down the bakery if that?ll make you happy,? Dr. Milo said, rolling his eyes.

?Yes!? General Rogers yelled jubilantly. ?That?s an excellent plan, Milo!? The thought of burning down a building, of hearing the screams of the people as a beloved building crumbled to the ground filled General Rogers with pure joy.

?That?s [i]Dr.[/i] Milo,? Dr. Milo reminded General Rogers.

?Right,? General Rogers said. ?Dr. Milo. I?ll try to remember that.?

?That would be nice,? Dr. Milo said.

?You know,? General Rogers said. ?You say you?re a doctor, but I?ve never really seen you [i]do[/i] anything around here.?

?Yeah,? Dr. Milo said. ?What?s your point??

?What do you do around here, Milo?? General Rogers questioned.

?[i]Dr.[/i] Milo,? Dr. Milo said.

?Fine,? General Rogers muttered impatiently. ?What do you do around here, [i]Dr. Milo[/i]??

?Everything,? Dr. Milo replied.

?Everything?? General Rogers asked.

?Everything,? Dr. Milo said, with a sagacious nod of his head.

?Well, I?ll be damned,? General Rogers said. ?Not even [i]I[/i] can do everything!?

?I?m a very important man, you know,? Dr. Milo said, laughing. ?Now, if you?ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.?

?Sure thing, Dr. Milo,? General Rogers said. Dr. Milo got up and left the room. He again went through the steps needed to gain entry into General Rogers? room in reverse order and emerged from the elevator smiling from ear to ear. He knew for sure that he had General Rogers in his pocket now. Dr. Milo continued walking until he made it back to his room, where he found a huge stack of paperwork and both Captain Jack and Colonel Jameson standing impatiently in front of his desk.

?Is there something that I can do for you?? Dr. Milo asked.

?I was fired!? both Colonel Jameson and Captain Jack yelled at the same time. Dr. Milo flinched and walked over to his desk. He brought over his wastebasket and swept all of the paperwork that was on his desk into the wastebasket.

?I?m a very busy man,? Dr. Milo noted. ?But I guess I can talk to the both of you. I can only address one of you at a time, though. Which one of you will go first?? Since neither Captain Jack nor Colonel Jameson would relent, they had to resort to a vigorous game of ?rock, paper, scissors? in order to decide whom was worthy of taking up Dr. Milo?s precious time first. It was a hard fought battle but, eventually, Captain Jack won out over Colonel Jameson, who had no battle experience. Colonel Jameson left the room grumbling and waited outside.

?Now, what?s the problem?? Dr. Milo asked.

?I was fired!? Captain Jack yelled.

?I see,? Dr. Milo said. ?That [i]is[/i] a problem.?

?Yes, it is,? Captain Jack said. ?Can you help me out??

?Well,? Dr. Milo said. ?What happened, exactly??

?I was getting ready to go out for a mission for bureaucracy,? Captain Jack said. ?And when I signed up, they told me that I was fired! I told them that it couldn?t be true, since I knew that you would make sure that I wasn?t fired, but they told me that it [i]was[/i] true?so, either they?re lying or you are, Dr. Milo.?

?I?m not lying,? Dr. Milo lied.

?That?s what I figured,? Captain Jack said, nodding his head. ?Those dirty, lying bureaucratic bastards are gonna pay for screwing with me!?

?There?s no need to get violent,? Dr. Milo said.

?You?ll take care of it?? Captain Jack asked.

?Yes,? Dr. Milo said. ?I?ll take care of it.?

?Great!? Captain Jack said. ?And what about Colonel Jameson??

?I?ll take care of him, too,? Dr. Milo replied.

?Fantastic!? Captain Jack said, walking out of the room with a spring in his step. Colonel Jameson stormed into the room after Captain Jack left.

?What seems to be the problem?? Dr. Milo asked.

?I was fired!? Colonel Jameson roared.

?I see,? Dr. Milo said. ?That [i]is[/i] a problem.?

?You?re damn right it?s a problem!? Colonel Jameson said. ?And I want you to fix it!?

?Hold on, hold on,? Dr. Milo said. ?Not so fast. First, I need to know exactly what happened?maybe, then, I?ll be able to help you out.?

?Fine,? Colonel Jameson grumbled. ?I was heading down to bureaucracy in order to cancel Captain Jack?s request for a mission, but when I got there, those bureaucratic bastards told me that I didn?t have the authority to do that. I asked how the hell I didn?t have the authority and they said that I was fired!?

?Yep,? Dr. Milo said. ?That?s a sticky situation.?

?Can you help me out?? Colonel Jameson asked.

?Of course I can,? Dr. Milo said. ?You know that I can take care of it.?

?Great!? Colonel Jameson said. ?What about Captain Jack??

?I?ll take care of him, too,? Dr. Milo said.

?Excellent,? Colonel Jameson purred, rubbing his hands together. He left the room and Dr. Milo sighed, leaning back in his chair. He was sure that he wouldn?t have to deal with those idiots any longer but, obviously, they were so stupid that they actually hadn?t known that they were fired until someone waggled the evidence in front of their faces. This time, Dr. Milo would make sure that both those annoyances would never show their faces around his quarter again.

Dr. Milo stood up and walked out of his office. He once again made the trip up to General Rogers? office, completing every step in precise order and walking confidently up to General Rogers? office. There was a new secretary at the front door that Dr. Milo didn?t really recognize, but he didn?t pay much attention to her. What struck him about the secretary, though, was how familiar she looked. Dr. Milo waved this off as déjà vu, however, and stepped into General Rogers? area.

General Rogers was standing behind his desk playing with a yo-yo. He had a yo-yo when he was a child, a glow-in-the-dark yo-yo as a matter of fact, and the love of playing with yo-yos and never left him. He liked yo-yos almost as much as he loved sending young men to their deaths, but there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that people were killing themselves for you that playing with yo-yos just couldn?t hope to replicate.

?General Rogers?? Dr. Milo said, tilting his head to the side. General Rogers reacted with a start and quickly threw the yo-yo out the window. General Rogers? face turned a deep shade of red and he refused to look Dr. Milo in the eye. Dr. Milo smirked and sat down in front of General Rogers? desk. Eventually, General Rogers? face turned back to its normal, pale complexion and he sat down in front of the cachinnating Dr. Milo.

?What do you want, [i]Dr.[/i] Milo?? General Rogers sneered, obviously displeased.

?I have a problem with Captain Jack and Colonel Jameson,? Dr. Milo said.

?Didn?t I fire those two idiots?? General Rogers asked.

?Yes,? Dr. Milo said.

?Well, what?s the problem?? General Rogers demanded.

?It?s the fact that they?re both idiots,? Dr. Milo said. ?They didn?t notice that they were both fired until a few minutes ago.?

?What do you want me to do about it?? General Rogers asked.

?I want you to make it so that they have to [i]stay[/i] fired,? Dr. Milo replied.

?How in the hell do I do that?? General Rogers asked. ?I?m not good at this bureaucratic crap, that?s your area of expertise, Milo.?

?[i]Dr.[/i] ?? Dr. Milo started.

?Damn it, I know your name is Dr. Milo!? General Rogers yelled, losing his temper for a moment. He was now extremely flustered and Dr. Milo knew that he had him in the palm of his hand.

?I want you to change their files,? Dr. Milo said. ?Make it look like they committed some reprehensible crime that will shame them into leaving this place forever.?

?Can I really do that?? General Rogers asked.

?Of course you can,? Dr. Milo said. ?It?s easy.?

?What should I charge them with?? General Rogers asked.

?Charge them with heresy,? Dr. Milo suggested.

?That?s good!? General Rogers said. ?Yes, yes, that sounds perfect to me?they?ll be so ashamed of being branded as heretics that they?ll accept the fact that they?ve been fired and leave here forever. It?s brilliant!?

?Glad that I could be of service, sir,? Dr. Milo said. ?And how about that raise you were suggesting for me??

?Oh, it?s yours!? General Rogers replied. Dr. Milo grinned deviously to himself and left the room, eyeing up the secretary suspiciously. He went through all the steps needed to get to General Rogers? office in reverse order, this time with a spring in his step. No more Colonel Jameson, no more Captain Jack and another big, fat raise! Things were definitely looking up for Dr. Milo.

Dr. Milo stepped back into his office and found an officer from the bureaucracy waiting by his desk, drinking a mug of his coffee. Dr. Milo frowned to himself; he had not had a chance to drink out of the mug yet and the coffee was now soiled because it had come into contact with a member of the bureaucracy. Dr. Milo kept his comments to himself, however, and addressed the officer.

?Can I help you?? Dr. Milo asked.

?Yes, you can,? the officer said. ?We just received another assignment from the board and we?d like you to approve of it, since you?re in such high standing with General Rogers.?

?What?s the assignment about?? Dr. Milo asked.

?We just received word that there?s another war veteran on the loose,? the officer replied. ?Apparently, he?s writing a manuscript that he intends to publish so that he may expose all of the so-called atrocities that we?ve committed over the years. You know as well as I do that we can not afford these things to become privy to the everyday person, so it?s imperative that we capture this man as soon as possible.? Dr. Milo nodded to the officer. He knew full well the repercussions that would come if these secrets were exposed. Fifty years of work would all go down the drain. Plus, all of the advancement within the government that Dr. Milo had made would be all for naught and Dr. Milo would not stand for it.

?Fine,? Dr. Milo said. ?Where do I sign??

?Right on the dotted line,? the officer replied, pointing at a dotted line on the paper. Dr. Milo took the paper, removed a pen from his pocket and signed the paper. The officer bowed his head slightly, turned and left the room.

?Doesn?t get any better than this,? Dr. Milo said happily.

The next chapter is the longest I've written thus far (ten pages on MS Word), so there's something to look forward to...if you like reading long stuff >.>

Mimmsicle · June 4, 2004

[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]I can see why it was such a joy to write, just by reading it ^__^ [/color][/size][/font]
[font=Verdana][color=darkred][/color][/font][size=1] [/size]
[font=Verdana][size=1][color=darkred]Even though I want to slap [i]Dr[/i]. Milo, it's wonderful to see him jerk around with everyone, hehe.

And General Rogers is ... [freakishly] funny, haha. It's good entertainment in the story, but I'd hate to think about how many General Rogers there are out there O.o;;;;

How much more have you got up your sleeve, with this story ?[/color][/size][/font]

Solo Tremaine · June 4, 2004

[quote name='Shinmaru']General Rogers was standing behind his desk playing with a yo-yo. He had a yo-yo when he was a child, a glow-in-the-dark yo-yo as a matter of fact, and the love of playing with yo-yos and never left him. He liked yo-yos almost as much as he loved sending young men to their deaths, but there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that people were killing themselves for you that playing with yo-yos just couldn?t hope to replicate.[/quote][COLOR=#503F86]My favourite bit so far ^____^ Fantastic, heh. It's obvious that you enjoyed doing Chapter Nine- it shows in the writing. It just has that little bit more edge to it.

It's still devilishly interesting to read, Shin, and the way the characters interact sustains your interest really well. I sometimes have a tendency to end up skim-reading through really long bits of story, but this kept my eyes glued firmly to the screen.

There were still the odd one or two points about sentence structure that bothered me a little. You could probably afford to be a little less literal with the active description in places. If someone's doing a whole sequence of things, making each movement a little different from the other in the way they're put down tends to give it a greater effect. That's not to say you need to think of something original for each sentence; I'm sure you know what I mean.

One last thing:

[QUOTE]?Thanks,? Dr. Milo said, already lighting the cigar.[/QUOTE]
He could already have lit the cigar whilst asking the General ^_^

It's great stuff, Shin. I really want to know what happens next...[/COLOR]

Shinmaru · June 11, 2004

It's only been a week since I've updated this? o_O; It feels like a lot longer, that's for sure...

Anyway, I couldn't stand leaving my (one or two :p) fans in suspense, so I decided to post the next chapter, even though I am nowhere near done with Chapter Twelve (I'm trying to stay a bit ahead, so I always have something to post, even if I'm not done with the current chapter I am writing). So, yes, I hope you enjoy this - it's a doozy of a chapter lol.

[b][u][center]Chapter Ten: The Manager[/b][/u][/center]

?I can still smell the rancid stench of death around me.

I can barely remember my own name, my birthplace, my family; anything about myself was completely wiped away from my memory during that god-forsaken war. However, I?ll try to give you as much as I can remember, because understanding who I was fifty-seven years ago is essential for knowing exactly how much the government has destroyed everyone?s lives.

I was a young man of eighteen years before the war started. I remember growing up in a decent house; my father never made too much money, but he always made enough and sacrificed enough to be able to provide us with a good life. We were a happy family, always looking on the bright side of things, always looking for a way to improve our current situation. And, in me, we thought that we had the perfect solution to our problems. My grades were good enough to get me into a good college. However, we lacked the necessary funds to gain me entry into a good school. Luckily, at the time it was lucky, anyway, the government was taking people into their army and offering to pay for college tuition. I took the offer and enlisted into the army.

At first, it was not so bad. Since I was an inexperienced soldier, I was mostly relegated to mess hall duty and cleaning duty. I had no desire to engage in any battles, so I was more than happy to work hard and clean in order to get a college education. However, after a few months, the driving force behind the war gained control. The figurehead of the government and the start of all the problems?General Rogers.

General Rogers, even then, was a violent, psychotic head case. He had no qualms with sending walls of soldiers into battle simply to overwhelm the enemy with human targets in order to claim victory. No matter that thousands upon thousands of men and women died due to his inferior tactics. General Rogers was too busy reaping the rewards of military glory to bother with little details like that.

After the six-month period of the war, I was put permanently into the fighting ranks. Even though I was not placed into the heavy battles right away, I still saw more than my share of gruesome bloodshed?I even caused some of it, myself. Our regiment mostly saw action in the slum areas of the city, as that was where General Rogers knew that the people would never turn to his side. So, to take care of that little problem, General Rogers wanted us to kill all of the residents of the slum areas. The stupid fools that we were, we obliged?we thought we were doing what was best for our country.

I can still remember the screams. Men, women and children, we were totally indiscriminate in whom we chose to kill. We stormed into decaying warehouses, rickety apartment buildings and wherever else, finding innocent families and slaughtering them with the bullets of our rifles. Every day was a storm of blood, guts and gore, endless screams of torture?and the crying. I can never forget the crying, the tears of the children as their families were taken away from them. I was uncaring, totally unfeeling and unemotional as I helped kill of families, one by one. I was a monster.

Those battles, however, were nothing compared to some of the other stories I heard?there were heavy rumors of a secret weapon that the military developed. A super soldier enhanced by genetic experiments at the beginning of the war. There might have been multiple soldiers for all I know. The stories I heard from that camp were more gruesome and horrifying than anything I ever saw on the battlefield. They said that he painted the walls red with the blood of the victims he killed, entire walkways would be littered with broken and battered body parts by the time his battles were over. It was sickening.

After another six months fighting the lower-level battles, the military saw fit to throw us into the bigger battles, the ones with far more carnage in one fight than we had seen in the past six months combined. In these battles, we fought the ?enemy? head-on; I never found out who the supposed enemy was. All I know was that we barged in on their city one day and started to take over. Blind imperialism at its finest, nothing but a bunch of thick-headed soldiers doing their duty for the fat cats to get rich off of.

That?s where I stayed for the next four and a half years. Battle after battle was waged?I remember one battle in particular as being the most hideous thing I have ever participated in, in my life. We were to storm an outpost in the suburbs of the city. This outpost was where most of the daily suburban operations were planned out; since we had invaded their city, a tight shift had to be run so that they could continue their way of life while simultaneously trying to get us the hell out of their town.

They knew that we were coming and they were more than ready. We were met at the front and killed off almost immediately. Half my troop was killed in the first five minutes. My best friend, whom had joined the army with me, also to get a college education, was the first one to get hit. He wasn?t one of the lucky ones who died a quick death. He was shot in the stomach and was left to bleed to death. In my mind?s eye, I can still remember perfectly the whole grisly scene of his death.

?It?s so cold,? he said, shivering on the ground, bullets whizzing over our heads.

?It?s okay, man,? I replied. ?We?ll get you out of here.? I tried to treat him the best that I could, but there was no hope for him. The wound was much too large to wrap; you could see clear to the inside of his body and bear witness to the internal injuries that the bullet had caused as it ravaged its way through his body. A fluid mixture of stomach acid and blood flowed quietly out of his gaping wound, mixing into a noxious and nauseating green liquid that spilled out onto the ground. As more acid began to flow out, his skin began to corrode and burn away, leaving bits and pieces of his small and large intestines exposed to the dirty air of battle.

?It?s so cold,? he whispered. ?I can feel it?it?s cold.? He grabbed me weakly by my collar. I was too stunned to formulate a reply. All I could do was to make him as comfortable as possible before he died?but that was impossible. How could you make a dying, suffering man comfortable? The one luxury that a person deserves before they die, they could not have. He died, bleeding away a miserable death, a few minutes later.

The rest of my troop stormed the outpost, while I stood back horrified at what they were attempting. Not one of them even made it close to the outpost. Some soldiers were shot in the arms and crumpled to the ground, grasping their wounded appendages. Some had their legs picked clean off, amputated by several rounds of powerful bullets shot at them. One soldier had his head blown completely off of his body. His neck was ripped from his shoulders and his head rolled upon the ground like a mannequin?s head, a scowl of war on his face. The battlefield was forever reddened with the fallen lives of my regiment. Body parts littered the landscape, tossed aside like all manners of trash in a landfill. They all died that day; I was the only one left alive, whether out of pity or simply that they wanted me to suffer mentally for the deaths of my comrades, I never knew.

As I walked the long walk back to the base, I knew that I could not take any of this senseless killing any longer. I had to do whatever I could to ensure that I would get out of this war alive. I was about one hundred yards away from the base when I decided to take some drastic action. With a grimace on my face, with shaking hands, I took my combat knife out of my pocket and plunged it into the top of my right thigh. I screamed with pain and stumbled and walked back to their base, where I collapsed near the hospital wing. I still have the scar to this day.

I awoke the next day in one of the hospital cots. The nurse told me that I had been asleep for about a day and that the doctors had performed surgery on me almost immediately after I had been brought back to their tent.

?How fast did they go through it?? I asked her

?Well,? the nurse said. ?It wasn?t almost immediately, per se.?

?Why?? I asked.

?They were squabbling over who would get to perform surgery on you,? the nurse said, shaking her head. ?Those doctors are all the same. They?ll perform surgery, but only because they?re getting paid to do it. I swear, if there was no money involved, only the nurses would still be here.? I leaned back against my cot. My leg still hurt too much for me to stand up, so I could not enact my plan. I had nothing to do, so I drifted back to sleep.

I awoke the next day. There was nobody in the room and the bandage on my leg was wrapped tightly enough that I did not experience much pain when I walked. I got out of my cot and limped over to the dresser. I opened the dresser, took out my clothes and changed out of the hospital gown that the nurse had given me. After I put on my clothes, I went over to the door and peeked outside. There was nobody outside, nobody who was paying attention to me, at least, so I opened the door and left the hospital area. After that, I made my way out of the city and left the war completely, escaping through the back area of our camp, making sure to take along some supplies with me.

You can brand my actions as cowardice or anything that you want. It doesn?t matter to me, because I know my reasoning for leaving the war was sound. I had killed so many people, broken up so many families, that my mind could not stand the anguish of killing any more people. Had I been in even one more battle, I am sure that my mind would have snapped.

During the two years that were left in the Seven Year War, I migrated to other nearby towns that had not gone under siege during the war. I took on several odd jobs, some in grocery stores, some in restaurants and others in pawn shops. With each job, though, nothing changed; I still struggled to gather up enough money to live a healthy life, day in and day out. But even with the hardships that I was facing, I refused to let it all get me down, because I knew in my heart that any life was better than the life that I had just left.

After two years of odd jobs, I received word that the Seven Year War (which, of course, it was not called back then) was over. I was not jubilant, as I had expected to be; I was soberly reminded of just how many people had lost their lives in that senseless harbinger of Armageddon. In fact, in many ways, the Seven Year War truly was senseless. Not once did I ever hear any actual reasoning for this war?all I ever knew was that we were attacking another country. Perhaps we were doing the work of an evil dictator. It would certainly not surprise me in the least.

After the war ended, I finally found a steady job in a diner, the diner in which I currently own, as a matter of fact. The man whom hired me was extremely sickly, yet full of vigor and life ? I never understood how the man could be so sick, yet so energetic. It perplexed me. The man, his name was David, if I remember correctly, was as kind as they came and he took me readily under his wing. He could tell from my disposition that I was extremely troubled and did all that he could to ensure that I would be able to live a happy and productive life.

In the three years that I lived with David (he died after three years), I never once had the desire to go back to my family; I rarely thought about them, which surprises me to this day. Don?t get the wrong idea, I loved them and they supported me a lot, but David was something different altogether?I felt very close to him, like a son does to a father, which is ironic in a way, since I had a perfectly healthy father that I could have gone back to at any time.

David put me to work at just about every position imaginable in the diner and he taught me all the tricks of the trade. I learned how to work the cash register, how to clean correctly and how to prepare the food, just as the two workers I currently have employed under me have learned. However, David also taught me how to best bargain for the food that we would have to bring in every day and how to attract customers. He was a truly brilliant person and I always wondered why he ran a diner instead of going out into the world and really making something of himself.

After three years, the diner was doing better than it ever had before. People were streaming in, ready to eat a hearty meal at the drop of a hat. To tell the truth, it was almost too much for David and I to handle, at times, since we were the only two people to work in the store, but we never let the strain show on our faces. I was thankful for this life and I?m sure that he was, as well.

Later that year, David died. He refused to be taken to the hospital because he said that he never trusted any of the ?quacks? that worked there. Plus, he claimed that they never truly cured anybody, they only prolonged the wait for someone?s death. I thought that this was an overly pessimistic way of looking at things, but then I remembered the doctors at the war hospital and realized that David was right. David was right about a lot of things. I?ll always remember our talk on his deathbed.

?Are you doing okay, David?? I asked.

?Never better,? David said with a slight chuckle. ?Never better.? I soaked a rag in some clean water, twisted and turned it a bit to let some water loose and applied the rag to David?s forehead to cool him down slightly. He sighed and leaned back against his pillow.

?What?s wrong?? I asked him.

?I?m just sorry that I won?t get to see you become someone truly great,? David said. ?You deserve better than this?far better than this. I just can?t see a bright boy like you slaving away in a diner for the rest of his life.?

?But I like it in here!? I said.

?You like working with me,? David corrected. ?And now I?m going away.?

?I?ll still take care of the diner for you,? I said.

?That?s nice,? David said. ?But?I have something else that I would like you to take care of, first.?

?What is that?? I asked.

?That scar on your leg,? he said, pointing at my leg. ?Where did you get it from?? I blinked in surprise, since I never knew that David had known about the scar I had gotten from the war. I didn?t want to tell him the truth, but I knew that anything less than the truth would be an insult to his memory, so I told him exactly how I had gotten the scar. He frowned and leaned into the pillow some more.

?Yeah,? I said. ?It?s not a pretty story.?

?Grab my leg,? David said.

?Excuse me?? I asked.

?Grab my leg,? he repeated. I did so and, with a shock, pulled off the lower part of his leg. I turned a deep shade of red and attempted to reattach his leg, mumbling hurried apologies under my breath. David let out a laugh and waved off my apologies with his hand.

?That?s not necessary,? David said. ?I just wanted to show you that you were not the only person affected by the war. I, too, was forced to fight, for a time.?

?But, you must have been far past the age limit for soldiers!? I said. ?No offense.?

?None taken,? David replied. ?And age limits never really mattered to General Rogers ? he?d send every man, woman and child into war if he could. What?s to stop him from sending an old codger like me into war??

?Nothing, I guess,? I mumbled.

?Exactly,? David said. ?And that?s why I want you to fight the good fight. You may continue to work here, if that?s what you desire, but I never want you to give up the fight against people like General Rogers who continue to fight wars and spread annihilation at the drop of the hat?that?s no way for anyone to live.?

?I understand,? I said.

?Will you promise me that you will continue to fight?? David asked.

?Yes,? I answered. ?I will.?

?Good,? David said. ?You?ve always been a good kid.? Those last words came out of David?s throat in a raspy, struggled tone, like his voice was pushing a giant boulder uphill. He closed his eyes, sighed deeply and finally gave in. His heart slowly came to a stop and he died. Tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face. I fell onto my knees, embraced his body and sobbed against it.

Even as I?ve worked hard to run the diner, fulfilling David?s dying wish has always been my top priority. I could have had my choice of any worker I wanted, since, even after David?s death, the diner was still in top condition and many people still continued to eat there. However, I used my job interviews to scout for people that I thought had something special, something unique. Something that I knew would be able to aid me in my hunt for vengeance.

After many years, however, this became increasingly difficult. It was a miracle that I had managed to keep the diner in tip-top shape for so long. I had strayed from my promise slightly in that I hired temporary workers to help me with the upkeep of the diner. However, strangely enough, most of these workers died soon after I hired them. The first worker that I hired who stayed alive for any length of time was Julia.

Julia is a special girl in many ways. She is extremely intelligent and very dedicated to her work. I can also see that she?s been affected, much the same as I. Maybe there is a certain aura about those who have been affected like I have?you can just see the pain that they endure by peering into their eyes. I know that Julia is far too young to have served in the war, but that does not mean that she was not affected by it. Not by a long shot.

A few years after I hired Julia, I happened upon another find, this one a young man named Jacob. He did not appear much older than Julia, though you can never be too sure about that sort of thing. He has the same distant look in his eyes that Julia gets from time-to-time, as well, so I?m fairly certain that he was affected by the war, as well?in fact, his pain looks to be far greater than both mine and Julia?s! I certainly cannot imagine the torment that this young man seems to be going through.

However, in these two, I think I have finally found a way to make the world a better place. Julia and Jacob both possess the mental capacity to be able to fight the fight that I?ve been unable to take on. I haven?t been able to present either of them with this information, though?I don?t know if I can put all of this upon them just like that. I?m just running away from my problems again.

I?ve decided, then, that I want this manuscript to be presented to Jacob and Julia when I die. Hopefully, they will read this and succeed where I have failed. I feel that my time will soon be up even if I am nowhere near the age that most people die?it?s just a stirring within my bones that?s telling me that I am going to die soon.

Or, perhaps, it?s just the smell of death that I can still smell all around me.?

The manager put his pen down. His hand was throbbing with a dull pain. He cast the pen aside onto his desk and rubbed his sore wrist gingerly. The manager had not written that much in a long time, but this was a very important document. The manager went over to a desk, brought out a manilla folder and took it over to the desk that he was writing the manuscript on. He picked up the manuscript, placed it into the folder and put it back onto the desk.

The manager walked over to his closet and took out a trenchcoat and a large hat that covered most of his face. He would need to go out later on in the night and it would be safe to go out in clothing that covered most of his body so that nobody would see who he was and get suspicious. He put on the trenchcoat and slipped the manilla folder into the inside pocket of the coat. He slipped on his hat and left the backroom, turning off the light as he closed the door. He turned off all of the lights in the diner and walked out the door, locking it behind him.

The manager walked down the sidewalk with short, hurried steps, trying to strike a balance between not walking so slow that he did not make it to his destination and not walking so fast as to rouse too much suspicion. He continued to walk deliberately towards his goal but did not notice that he was being tailed. A man similar to the person who had followed Jacob during his journey from the hospital to the city was now following the manager.

The manager hailed a taxi, which stopped near the sidewalk on which he was standing. The yellow, slightly rusted door opened and he climbed inside. After a few seconds, the taxi took off. The man who was following the manager did the same thing as the manager had just done, hopped into a taxi and sped off, though with this taxi, the taxi driver had been rudely thrown out the side.

The manager looked out the window of his taxicab. It had begun to rain softly outside; the sky was grayed and extremely gloomy. Not a very good omen. The manager stuck his hand into his coat pocket nervously and told the taxi driver to stop when he got near the subway. The cabbie nodded and continued on his route.

The government agent continued to tail the taxicab closely, turning when the latter turned and coming to a stop when he stopped. The new rain made the roads a bit slicker than normal, but that was an advantage for the agent, since the cab driver would be more likely to drive carefully in fear of getting in an accident and not being able to collect his cab fare. That would make it far easier for him to be followed.

Soon, the manager?s cab stopped at the subway entrance. He paid the cabbie his fare and stepped out onto the street. He quickly wished that he had brought along an umbrella, since the rain was now pouring down extremely hard, but that was just a tiny inconvenience. The manager covered the contents of his manilla folder completely in his coat pocket and approached the stairs leading down to the subway. He gripped the handrail tightly and made his way down the steps slowly and surely in order not to lose his footing and fall on the steps. The agent stopped his cab soon after the manager made his way down the stairs and he followed him.

The manager made his way through the busy crowd that was emerging from the subway train that had just stopped. He went up to the ticket man and paid for his subway ticket, passing through the rotating fence as he did so. The agent popped in line right after the manager and did the same. They entered the subway one after the other, through the automatic sliding doors of the train.

It was warm inside the subway train. After the cold of the rain and the station, the manager was fearful that he was going to catch a cold. He walked towards an empty seat, droplets of water dripping from his overcoat onto the floor as he made his way over to the seat, and he sat down. The agent opted to stand at one of the poles lining through the middle of the train in lieu of sitting down near the manager. He did not want to rouse the manager?s suspicions, not yet.

The subway ride took about ten minutes. By the time the subway stopped, the warmth of the train had dried off the manager?s clothes completely. The conductor?s voice came on over a loudspeaker, asking the patrons of the train to hold on, as the train was coming to a stop. Each person gripped the railing near their seats so that they would not lose their balance and fall onto the floor, in what would surely turn out to be an embarrassing situation. The subway slowed down to a complete stop and the manager stood up as the sliding doors of the subway train opened. He stepped out first and, after a few seconds, the government agent followed him. They were the only two to emerge from the train.

The manager walked through the new station and to the outside, where the rainfall had let up a bit. The manager stepped back out into the rain and continued to protect the sacred document that was in his stead. The agent continued to follow the manager slowly and cautiously; this whole mission depended on the fact that the manager would not see him until the last minute. The manager looked to the right and the left and disappeared into an alley. The agent cursed lightly and followed him quickly into the alley. The agent had advanced fast enough that he witnessed the manager run into a run-down, decrepit building. He took out a small phone from his pocket and called for backup.

The manager walked into the building. Immediately, he felt the nuzzle of a gun in the nape of his neck. He raised his arms slowly skyward and stood at attention. The gun was taken away from his neck and he felt a hand clapped onto his shoulder.

?Good, it?s you,? a voice said. ?No hard feelings, I hope; I have to be careful, you know.?

?I understand,? the manager said. ?You wouldn?t happen to have a coat rack or something, would you? My clothes are soaked.?

?It?s over there,? the man said, pointing.

?Thanks,? the manager replied. ?So, you?re going to hold onto this, right??

?Yeah,? the man said. ?And I?m going to publish it, too.?

?Publish?? the manager asked. ?That was never part of the deal.? The manager hung his hat and his coat onto the coat rack and took the manilla folder out of the coat pocket.

?It wasn?t,? the publisher said. ?But think of how many people you could turn to your side if lots of people end up reading what you?ve written! You know as well as I do how many people seem to have forgotten the events of fifty years ago?I don?t know why that is, but these are things that people need to remember!?

?I agree,? the manager said. ?But you could be throwing rocks at a hornet?s nest here.?

?I?m not following you,? the publisher said, tilting his head.

?I mean,? the manager said. ?That by publishing this, you may turn the whole government against you. As stupid as they are, you do not want them as your enemy.?

?That?s a chance I?m willing to take,? the publisher replied. ?I have other things ready for publishing and we can really garner some support and make some money!?

?Money?? the manager asked. ?Is that why you?re doing this??

?Of course not!? the publisher said indignantly. ?But if you?re going to do something, you may as well make a couple of bucks on the side.?

?I don?t want my manuscripts to be a party to any money making scheme,? the manager said, glowering at the publisher. ?Is that clear??

?Fine,? the publisher said. ?I won?t publish it. I?ll just get it to the two kids when you die.?

?Good,? the manager said. ?Thank you very much?this means a lot to me.?

?Don?t mention it,? the publisher said. ?I want to see them go down as much as you do.? Just then, the lights went out.

?What the hell?? the manager asked.

?I don?t know,? the publisher said. ?Must be a power failure?? A loud bang rang out that was accompanied by a flash of light. A low grunt of pain was heard, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. A second bang was heard and another body hit the ground. The lights flashed on and the agent was standing over the dead bodies of the publisher and the manager, alongside another agent that he had called for backup.

?Good,? the agent smirked. ?They?re both dead.? A pool of blood was forming slowly around the manager?s body and some of the blood had gotten onto the manuscript that was inside the manilla folder. The agent picked up the folder and thumbed through the contents of the manuscript quickly. ?It was good that we got to them; there might?ve been a disaster had they been allowed to publish this.?

?Yeah,? the other agent said. ?What shall we do??

?We?ll burn the place down,? the first agent said. ?Leave no trace of it.? Both of the agents took out matches from their pockets and struck them against the sandpaper lining the tips of the match packages. The matches lit up and they tossed them onto the ground, setting the floor ablaze. Before they headed out of the house, the agents tossed the manuscript into the fire, ensuring that nobody else would be able to read it and find out about some of the heinous actions that had taken place fifty years prior.

The house burned down that night and nobody cared, as it was going to be demolished later that year.

Arcadia · June 13, 2004

[size=1]Well, that really sucks. Poor dead manager. ^_^;

It took me a bit, but I finally caught myself up and read through all ten chapters. The story is awesome - I have no idea what's going at all, but I love it anyway. All the little hints and new perspectives you introduce only add to the feeling, and it definitely keeps up the interest.

Well, that, and you used the name Julia. ^_~

I don't really haven't any complaints grammar-wise. I like the use of repitition (when it's used for the literary purpose, of course ^_~) and the as-a-matter-of-fact-ness that a lot of the sentences seem to have. Some of it is very [i]Catch-22[/i] to me, but it's also obvious that you've got your own thing going here and I can't wait to see where you're going to take it.

So yeah, whoo for Shin! [/size]

Writing The Seven Year War

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