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Dance [M-LVS]


ArunueShekamari
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[font=Garamond]"You really think getting drunk is going to make it go away?" The bartender asked after Sphen's 5th order. "Yes," He said with his head on the table, "Yes, I absolutely do." The bartender eyed him over, and seeing the gun at his side asked, "Were those murders really that brutal?" Sphen looked up at her questioningly. "You're gun. You're an officer, right?" Sphen sighed and put his head back down. "Yeah," he said quietly, "The most recent was the worst." The bartender took an order from another customer. "Yeah? Don't go telling anyone this," she said quietly, leaning close to Shpen, "But I heard it was Evan Lour. Y'know, the painter that lives down the ways. I don't know him, so I don't know if that's right. I've seen his work though. This town's pretty small, I'm suprised I didn't know him..." The bartender's voice trailed off as she got a glimpse of Sphen's badge, neatly pinned to his coat. S. Lour. She let him be and went about taking orders. " 'Nother scotch, please..." Sphen said weakly, his head still on the table.[/font]

[font=Garamond]Pretty soon, Sphen realized he couldn't afford much more booze. So, he just sat there, at the very end of the bar, watching people come in and go out and socialize and drink themselfs out cold. He fingered the gun in it's holster and thought about anything he could to keep his mind off of his brother. Eventually, his mind did end up coming to his brother's paintings. What an artist. Ever sence they were kids, his older brother was always the artistic type. Calm, gracefull, a bit too peacefull for a young boy. His paintings were always beautiful. He sold his first when he was 17. Evan had been painting a scene of the town, with Sphen commenting and watching him work when a rather old man had come up to them and told him that the painting was beautiful and he'd love to have it in his family room. Evan ended up selling it to him and ended up selling to alot of other townspeople. Most likely, half the town has a painting that he did in their home. It was hard for him to part with alot of his paintings, but that's what made them even more special to whomever bought them. They had feeling and love in them. Evan still had about 30-40 paintings left in their home. The ones that he couldn't bare to sell and the ones he'd just recently done. 'On one hand,' Sphen thought, 'I could sell them all, and try to forget about all this. Try to force myself to move on by getting rid of anything and everything that would remind me of him. On the other hand, I don't want to move on so quickly, I want to have those paintings to remind me of him and love him.' [/font]
[font=Garamond]Sphen put his head on the table again.[/font]
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[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Jack walked into the bar closest to the venue he was playing at. The show had ended around an hour ago, and it was one of their biggest showings. There had to be at least 300 people there. "[i]That was insane[/i]," he thought to himself as he sat next to a man in a dark coat. His head was on the bar. He noticed the badge and gun. "[i]He's a cop...wonder what he's doing here."[/i][/font]
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[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]"Scotch, on the rocks, please," Jack requested to the bartender. [/font]
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[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]"Can do," the young woman replied. She quickly fixed two glasses of scotch and handed them to Jack and the officer. Jack looked over and smiled.[/font]
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[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]"This man has good taste in his drinks. Put the rest of his bill on my tab, ma'am." Jack said, smiling.[/font]
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[font=Garamond]Sphen didn't look up. He just sighed and grabbed his drink, moving the ice around with his finger. His back was starting to hurt from the way he was slouching over and his forhead being pressed againt the bar. Oh, wonderful gravity.[/font]
[font=Garamond]Sphen lifted his head to take a drink and glanced over at the young man beside him. He coughed as he took a sip. "Are you sure this is scotch?" He asked, wiping his mouth with the side of his hand. 'Yes, sir, same thing you've been drinking for the past hour," the bartender said. "Then I'd better stop drinking." He said quietly, setting the cup down.[/font]
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Jack raised an eyebrow at the older man next to him. He wondered what could drive him to drink for a straight hour. He took a quick gulp of his scotch and put the glass down.

"Thank you miss." He nodded to the bartender. He then turned his attention to the officer. "Excuse me sir...but is everything alright? Do you need me to drive you anywhere?" he asked. A hint of concern was in his voice.

"No thanks," was all the officer replied. He had looked at Jack and gave a small smile. You could never tell he had been drinking, albeit the strong hint of alchohol on his breath.

"Suit yourself." Jack answered. "Ma'am, is the soccer match on?" He asked the bartender. "I hear its Brazil versus Argentina. That's gotta be a good match." The bartender smiled sweetly at Jack and surfed through the channels on the television that was mounted in the corner where Jack and the officer were sitting. After a minute or two, she found the match.

"Here you are, sir." She said with a grin.

"Thanks!" Jack said with great enthusiasm. Though he was smiling, Jack knew it was all a charade. He longed to be able to smile and actually [i]mean[/i] it. After a minute or two of watching the match (which Brazil had scored on a penalty kick), Jack began to get dizzy. He centered his weight on the bar, so not to fall. Another vision was forming...
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[font=Garamond]Spen stood and began to walk away from the bar. He had no intention of conversing. He sat back down at a booth near the other side of the room, and put his head down on the table. The fact that Jack didn't follow him didn't strike him as odd at all.[/font]
[font=Garamond]What did strike him odd was that Jack wasn't commenting on the match anymore. He didn't think much of it, though, considering he couldn't barely lift his head anyway.[/font]
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Jack put both hands on his head.

"[i]No...not here...please not now...[/i]" he thought to himself. He stood and stumbled out the door and to his car. "[i]Why did this have to happen now?[/i]" He quickly drove home, but almost got in a wreck or two. He got inside as quickly as he could and just collapsed on the floor. His body tensed up and twiched as the images got more and more intense.

Demons...fire...tortured souls...all these and more flashed through Jack's mind. Then...out of nowhere...everything was black and a demonic voice was heard...

[i]Kill them....kill them all...leave none alive...[/i]

Jack then awoke...
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[font=Garamond]Sphen sighed to himself. "The Black Death...." He whispered to himself, "The Plauge. supposedly caused by infectious fleas and ticks on rats. Not demonic punishment for sin?" Sphen dragged himself out of the bar and walked home. He only lived a mile and he needed to walk off the booze. 'Maybe I'll get hit by a car," He said to himself, more of concerned thinking then wishfull thinking, "I [i]am[/i] drunk after all."[/font]
[font=Garamond]Once Sphen got to his home, he stood outside for a minute then sat on the front porch. He couldn't bring himself to go inside. He could either just stay there of go back to the bar. He ended up falling asleep outside, leaning against the house.[/font]
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Jack stood up, still stumbling but finally regaining his balance after a second or two. His head was throbbing, so he made his way to his medicine cabinet in his bathroom. He grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and popped a handful of pills and gulped them down with some water.

"I better lay down for a while." Jack said to himself. He walked into his room and put in a CD to listen to to help him fall asleep. He must have laid there for 2 hours, but not once even began to fall asleep. "God, this is no use."

He got out of bed and walked back to his car and drove back to the bar. As he opened the door, the bartender was walking toward him.

"Oh, I was just about to close shop." she said. "Sorry..."

"It's quite alright. I'll come back tomorrow." Jack said, smiling. He turned to walk out but felt a hand at his own. He turned back around to the bartender.

"I...guess I could keep the place open for a little while longer..." she said, slightly blushing. She looked up into Jack's eyes and smiled.

Jack was somewhat taken aback. "Okay then." Jack smiled back sweetly. He walked over to the bar and flipped a stool back to its legs and sat down. "Um...I suppose a vodka stinger will work for now."

"Comin' up!" the barkeep said happily. "Oh..and...call me Alice." She added, turning her head halfway. She came back two drinks, and sat one in front of him, and the other next to him. She then walked over and flipped the stool next to Jack and sat down. "This one's for me."
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[size=1]OOC: Sorry for being late. ^^

IC:
The demon held Amber's shoulder and he ripped away at her skin. All Dallas could was watch as his sister was slowly and painfully destroyed. He sat in a chair. His ankles and wrists locked down upon it.

She wouldn't die either. There was no death for her, only eternal pain. Dallas cried out. Each time the demon ripped away at her flesh it seemed Dallas died a little more on the inside.

Tears dripped from his face. "Damnit, stop it, stop it now!" he yelled. The demon chuckled and grabbed her head. He pulled it straight off, her spine following it. The demon wrapped his oversize tongue around it and ate the head.

Dallas watched in horror. His sister's body dropped to the ground. The demon tossed aside the spine and looked directly into Dallas's eyes.

The demon lunged for Dallas.


"SHIT!" Dallas screamed. He bolted up from his dream looking around. Almost immeadiatly he realized he had, had another dream.

Dallas got up out of bed. He surveyed the room. Everything seemed to be in order. He was back in reality. In his home where nothing could harm him.

Dallas went out the front door of his apartment to grab the newspaper. He noticed a man slouched over on his front door steps sleeping.

"Poor guy," he said to himself.
[I]What the hell am I talking about. These dreams keep happening more and more frequently. I'm the poor guy here[/I][/size]
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[font=Garamond]ooc: No problem, Matt.[/font]
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[font=Garamond]Sphen woke up coughing. He leaned forward so he wouldn't choke and sure enough, he tumbled down the front steps. As he tried to lift himself up, he felt his hand slip on the concreate. He looked down and saw blood smeared and first though that he had hit his head when he fell, then realized that it wasn't, when he saw blood dripping from his lips onto the pavement. He sat up and wiped the blood from his mouth, only to find that he'd coughed up more blood then he though. His shirt and coat looked like he had a chest wound.[/font]
[font=Garamond]Before he could lift himself up, a young man rushed over to him. "Are you alright?" he asked? Sphen realized how stiff he was from sleeping on the porch. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just coughed up a little blood. No big deal, I'm a bit used to it," Sphen said. It was a lie, though, he'd never done it before. He'd been sick for weeks, but he'd never hacked blood like that. "You coughed this much blood?" He asked, helping Sphen to his feet. "Yeah," Sphen said, streching, "You wanna come in? Looks like we both need some company." "Yeah, sure," Dallas said, "I can spare a little while." [/font]
[font=Garamond]Sphen came back into the main room in clean clothing. Dallas was examining a painting hanging on the wall. Sphen paused and put his badge and gun on the table. He'd had to clean blood off them too. "You like that?" Sphen asked, walking up behind him. "Yeah," Dallas said, looking at the signature at the bottom, "This by Lour?" Sphen nodded. "Yeah, I bought one from him a while ago," Dallas said, examining it, "I guess you bought one too." Sphen smirked to himself. "Something like that," he said.[/font]
[font=Garamond]"Him and I talked once," Dallas said, "When I bought this. I think he lives around here..." Sphen sat down. "He did."[/font]
[font=Garamond]"Did?" Dallas asked, "Where?" Sphen looked at the painting on the wall. "Here," He said, "I'm his little brother." Dallas looked back at the painting. "Oh," he said, "Where'd he go, then?" It was an innocent question. Harmless enough. "You hear about those really brutal murders around here lately?" Sphen asked. Dallas looked at him, "Yeah, they printed one in the newspaper, but I'm guessing that they were told not to print the others." Sphen was quiet and Waited for Dallas to realize what he'd ment. He didn't seem to get it. "Do you know how horrid it is....." Sphen said slowly, "To have to clean up something that disturbing......then find out, that mangled human flesh is your own sibling?" Dallas looked at him for a moment. "I'm very sorry. I think I'd better get going." Dallas left and Sphen sighed and got up. He looked up at the picture for a minute, then took it down and faced it against the wall.[/font]
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[size=1]Dallas left the room, softly closing the door behind him. He turned and looked back at the door. [I]How could I have just done that, I've probably just made his day even more miserable than it already is.[/I]
Dallas went to the door of his apartment. "I sure hope that guy is okay. It's too bad his brother died," he said to himself unknowingly.
Dallas entered the small kitchen his apartment and opened the fridge. A rotting peice steak on a plate on the bottom shelf released it's ungodly stench upon his face. Dallas clenched his nose to guard from the horrible smell.
Dallas grabbed a half empty can of beer he'd had from who knows when.
[I]Maybe this is the reason why I'm having all these terrors.[/I]

Dallas plopped down on the couch and take a large gulp from the can. He swallowed but almost immeadiatly regergitated it and threw up all over his carpet.
"Shit," he said looking at the mess.

He went up to grab some aged newspaper.

From no where a shadow caught his attention. It had the figure of a man.
Dallas looked at it. Nobody had come through the door, no windows were in the kitchen, how the hell did someone get in.
He slowly moved forward towards the shadow. His chose his steps carefully making sure not to step on things on his cluttered floor.

The shadow moved a little. Dallas stopped for a moment. "Whoever is there! Come out with your hands up!" he yelled. He looked to his side. A fire poker for the woodstove lay resting against it. he grabbed it quickly and resumed his spot.

The shadow moved again. Dallas watched it. He turned the corner into the kitchen. He fell backwards with terror.

His sister was struggeling for life as she was hung. A rope came down from a black hole in the celing strangelling her. Dallas ran forward and grabbed for the rope.

A hand came through the hole in the ceiling and grabbed Amber. It's veins slowly emerged and blood came dripping through the gaps between it's fingers.

Dallas shook his head. He was laying near the sink. There was nothing but the kitchen and some bothersome flies.[/size]
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[size=1][color=#191970][i]?Ready or not, I?ll find you.?

The distorted voice spoke in a hellish way and neared the body each time. Heavy breathing and clammy hands made it impossible for the little girl to stay hidden. She was scared that the monster might find her. She was scared that it might do what it did to her parents. In essence, she was scared and no one was there to protect her. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, a vastly empty one appeared in front of her, reaching its arm out to grab her as it said, ?I found you.?

The girl screamed as the hand that touched her arm scathed her with its burning fingers. She tried to struggle free of its grip but it was useless, it had gotten a grip on the little girl and was now wrapping itself around her, preventing her from escaping and preventing any precious blood to flow free. The piercing screams had stopped and all the little girl could do was try to escape. She wriggled and writhed under its grip, kicking and screaming, trying not to allow it to have any hold on her. The thing then suddenly dug its claws into her skin, burning its way through, making the little girl scream in agony as it did. The creature had a laugh so hideous that it sounded as if it found pleasure in watching humans writhe in pain.

?Don?t fight me. Give me what I want.?[/i]

?NO!?

Terry awoke and realized that it had been a dream or something. She had been constantly getting strange dreams, ones with death and terrifying creatures. It was like any other nightmare she had before and it was just like the one she saw before her parents died. It was useless to say that they would go away when she had been seeing them for years upon years.

Breathing slowly, Terry laid herself back into bed and she began to close her eyes. She was quick to drift off back to sleep yet it wasn?t sleep that haunted her. She could find herself searching, wandering, and trying to make her way out of something when she saw a shadow bending over something or someone. She could smell the blood that had poured out from whatever the shadow was hunched over. She didn?t dare to move an inch from where she was nor did she dare to challenge the shadow. In some strange way, Terry knew what it was but she couldn?t admit to it.

Suddenly, as Terry tried to leave, its red eyes had caught her and disappeared from its spot. It chased after her, calling out her name, trying to lure her into its trap. She ran for miles upon miles, trying to get rid of the shadow that chased her but didn?t succeed in doing it for she tripped. When she did, Terry tried to stand but could feel the shadow?s distorted voice calling her. It neared her and with its clawed hands it reached out, trying to grab Terry when...

Terry awoke gasping for breath. Her face was moist and she felt as if she had been running. Her body was in chills and she felt cold when the office was in fact warm. She shook her head and drank a cup of water, several in fact. She couldn?t shake the fact that these images had gotten much longer and more vivid as if they were happening right before her eyes. She shook her head again and sighed, knowing that she couldn?t possibly think it was real.

Checking the clock, Terry realized that it had only been an hour since she had drifted off to sleep and already she has had two visions. ?I can?t go on like this. This is insane. I haven?t even slept for more an hour and already I?ve had two visions. What is going on??

Terry looked at the clock again and sighed, cracking her neck and knuckles. She breathed in slowly and deeply and exhaled slowly and deeply to calm her nerves, to keep herself in check. She then stood up and decided to get a drink of water, something to cool her burning inside. She knew this wouldn?t help but at least it would take her mind off of her visions, the dreams that she kept having, the deaths that she kept seeing. Though in her mind, the thoughts would still linger and wave to her, capturing her attention and at any given moment, spring out at her as if it were from some corny horror movie.

?Why won?t it go away??

[B]OOC-[/B] Sorry for being late.[/size][/color]
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[font=Garamond]OOC: No problem.[/font]
[font=Garamond][/font]
[font=Garamond]IC: Sphen rubbed his eyes and tried to get rid of the sickening sight of his brother's torn up body. It took a minute, but he decided that walking around the house would get his heart pumping blood, he'd feel better, and wouldn't be so subjective to that nasty thought.[/font]
[font=Garamond]Sphen took a deep breath and lifted himself out of his chair. It took him half an hour to walk around his entire house, considering, they were able to afford a fairly large house. Sphen couldn't think of it as his home anymore. Every room held a memory or him and Evan. The two had been so close, they had slept in the same room, even though there were two other bedrooms in the house. After every room he entered, the thought of him continueing to live there grew more and more distant.[/font]
[font=Garamond]Eventually, he was back in the main room. He sighed and walked over to the table and picked up his badge, tucking it into his pocket. He left the house compleatly unaware of the fact that he'd left his gun on the table too. He didn't pick it up because, truthfully, it wasn't there.[/font]
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[color=darkred]Jack looked into Alice's eyes for a moment, then everything became red...another vision was about to occur. Jack's own eyes became a much deeper shade of green than normal, and Alice began to worry.[/color]
[color=darkred][/color]
[color=darkred]"Jack...is everything okay?" Alice asked with a confused expression. "You look drained and your...your eyes have gotten darker."[/color]
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[color=darkred]"No...not again...not now..." Jack whispered to himself as he stumbled out of his stool and fell to the ground. He tried to pick himself back up but the vision was in full effect. Jack blacked out...[/color]
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[i][color=darkred]"Now you die!" a demonic voice screamed. A dark and bulky, yet distorted figure dove towards Jack. "Your blood will cover these walls!"[/color][/i]
[i][color=darkred][/color][/i]
[i][color=darkred]Jack could do nothing...he couldn't move. The demon began to slow, but still was coming towards him. He soon reached Jack and extended his arm, his razor-like claws piercing Jack's chest. Jack let out a blood-wrenching scream, but no one could hear him...no one was around. The demon's claw kept going into Jack's chest, slowly and agonizingly.[/color][/i]
[i][color=#8b0000][/color][/i]
[color=#8b0000]Then Jack awoke, screaming and gasping for air. Alice was hovering over him, desperatly trying to calm him. Jack finally calmed down and stood. He looked at Alice, who's expression was still frozen in fear. Jack's eyes had become blood red and were beginning to glow.[/color]
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[font=Garamond]A car pulled over a little ways up the raod and backed up. Sphen stood at the passengerside door. The window rolled down. "Aren't you on vacation?" the man almost sarcastically asked Sphen. Sphen smiled and got into the car. "Yeah, I am, I guess," He said, looking at one of the young men he worked with. "I was just going to go dawn and see if I'm needed. I have nothing to do."[/font]
[font=Garamond]The younger man shook his head. "You should get away for a little while. You deserve it. You've always worked your ass off."[/font]
[font=Garamond]Sphen sighed. "I guess. But I have no where to go."[/font]
[font=Garamond]"Bullshit! Get a flight to some beach and relax. Get yourself out of here. Stop making excuses." The man glanced over at Sphen while talking to him. Probably a bad idea, considering he was supposed to be driving. [i]I guess I am just making excuses,[/i] Sphen thought to himself, [i]But I can't leave. Not sure why, but I can't.[/i] [/font]
[font=Garamond]The car stopped infront of the town station. "You can check in, but we've got it under control." The young man said as they both walked inside. "Bullshit," Sphen muttered.[/font]
[font=Garamond]"Lour, you're supposed to be on vacation," another officer said as Sphen made his way to his office. "I spent an entire work day drinking, that's vacation enough for me. Besides, I bet I have a ton of paper--" Sphen opened his office door. "Wow.....That[i] is[/i]alot of paper work......."[/font]
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[font=Garamond]Sphen sat at his desk, some of his work filed, some signed, some still sitting on his desk. He figured he was getting pretty good progress. It was all just routine things anyway. Sign this, file this, put that into clasified filing for evidence, We need to order a new desk for Carl.....again. Pretty much normal cshit that he could do with his eyes closed.[/font]
[font=Garamond][i]I haven't had a nightmare sence I was 12.....[/i] Sphen thought to himself, thinking of his brother aproaching him about visions. It was a lie though. He'd had a nightmare a week ago. His mind had blocked it out. W[i]hat does that mean though? Why had he had those visions and why was he condemned to be mutilated like that? [/i]Sphen strained to remember what Evan had told him. [i]Something about 'punishment to sinless men for the sin and crime of their race'?[/i] At that point, it was the only thng he had that made sence to him. His broher was a saint. An angel, if you will. and the second on that'd been killed, he'd known. Not well, but they'd talked and he seemed a rather decent man. At the moment, Sphen just needed a reason to put to this. Even wide spread insanity would ease his mind if it fit the situation.[/font]
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[size=1]Dallas grabbed an umbrella and his coat. He was still breathing heavily. The visions had started to become more and more realistic. They came in his dreams and now in his own reality. Yet no one else could see them. Only in his mind.

Dallas sighed. The patter of rain against the umbrella was getting annoying. Dallas walked through the park and towards the mall. Maybe the media could help him recover. It could get his mind of the stress. That was what was causing it. Stress.

A couple people were walking into the large mall. Just punk looking kids, probably going to steal something or make trouble. It didn't matter to him.

The doors opened and Dallas walked through. The mall was abnormaly inactive today. A few people were sitting in the food court. The punk kids were hanging out in the gothy fashion stores.

Dallas walked past the appliance store. Tv screens covered the windows. They were all on and tuned into the recent news. Dallas stopped walking and looked at it. Black shadows were jumping all around the reporter and yet he was doing nothing.

Dallas shook his head and kept walking.
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