Death and I - Chapter 3: The Awakening of the Death Seeker

[Chromer]

Ok guys, the first chapter was a hit so here is chapter two.

Death and I - Chapter One: A Touch To Remember
http://www.flashflashrevolution.com/...wtopic&t=38362


Death and I

Chapter Two: Death Reveals


Chris wept for three hours before he finally was composed enough to stand on his own two feet. His head rose above the counter and saw that the sun was almost down as the sky was now a deep golden red. Strangely, no other customers had entered the store after the woman left. He knew that the next shift cashier would be coming in any moment, and Chris didn't want to bothered with at the moment. Five minutes later, a middle aged man walked in, waring the same uniform as Chris.

"Hi Chris! See any hot young ladies today?" asked the man jokingly.

Chris did not answer, but only nodded to the man in solemn silence.

"Well you can go on home now. I have the shift until Mark comes in at Midnight," said the man.

Chris grabbed his leather jacket, waved back to the man, and stepped out onto the street. His face had te look of a weather beaten stone, as if he had lived a longer life than his body appeared to show. Something had definitely happened that afternoon. Chris earlier tried to dismiss it as a dream but the dent in the plastic case of the cigarette cabinet told him otherwise. And the warning the woman gave him scared him most of all. She would come back to take from him what he dared to look into. Of course Chris knew that she meant his soul and he became scared. Who exactly was this woman? Why did she call him a Soul Seeker? Why had he seen the vision of pain and death in her? Most of all, why had her eyes glowed that demonic red aura? Too many questions and too little answers racked his brain.

Chris walked down the empty street and looked around. People were closing down thier shops for the day and going home to their families. Chris, having no car, could only watch as the owners got into thier cars and drove away. He turned right on Main Street and began walking down Bridgetown Road. Houses began to develop on either side of him as he entered his neighborhood. He watched as men and women finished mowing lawns, cooking barbecues, or gardening thier flowers. These people lived only for themselves, not ever caring for the world outside of their hermetically sealed existence. Chris hated these people more than anything. In some sense, he hated himself just as much, for he was like them. During the school year, he mostly kept to himself and only had few friends. The only joy he had was to come to work and acquire more thoughts for the night. However, after the experience he had tonight, it would be a while before he touched anyone but himself.

Chris turned left and slowly walked up his driveway to his front door. He heard a dog bark down the street before he took out his house key and opened the door. He entered his dark house and close the door behind him. He continued forward down his foyer, dropping his jacket by the staircase and turned left towards the kitchen. He flipped on the light and and saw a white piece of paper on his kitchen table. He grabbed and read.


CHRIS:

I HAVE TO WORK LATE TONIGHT. THERE ARE LEFTOVERS IN THE FRIDGE. HAVE A GOOD NIGHT HONEY.

-MOM

Chris crumpled the note in disgust and threw into the trash can. His mother again was going to be late getting home. Chris knew she wasn't working, only hanging out with her co-workers and getting drunk on Apple Martinis. After his father had left, his mother had hit a pretty bad slump in her life. As a vice president of a computer company, she had no problem sustaining Chris and herself financially. But mentally, the lonliness had eaten away at her. Chris silently warmed up the leftover lasaugna in the fridge and ate it in front of the tv. Even though his favorite show was on, he had no interest in it. He walked upstairs to his room and decided to take a shower. He closed his eyes as the hot waterbeat his back like a waterfall. The red glowing eyes of the woman instantly returned and he opened them quickly. The image of the woman's eyes would not leave Chris' mind now matter how hard he tried.

Chris returned to his room and got dressed in his bed clothes: a pair of pajama pants with anchors on them and a short sleeve shirt that said, "I Love To Party!" on it. He was closing his door when a cold wind began to blow at his back. Chris turned around quickly and saw what it was. His window had come open mysteriously. What was more bizarre was a cold wind in July. Chris hesitantly closed his window, turned off the light, and got into bed. The lime green glow of his alarm clock cast an eerie setting over the room as Chris could only stare at his ceiling. The fear of the woman began to increase and increase as the hours passed. Midnight came and yet Chris had still not fallen asleep.

Finally, seeing as the woman would probably not show, Chris fell asleep.
WHOOSH. The window again flew open and Chris' eyes opened immediately. The wind died down but Chris began to cough. He could see his breath again. Now however, icicles began to grow on his desk and closet, while the room began to freeze. Chris looked at the icicle near his head and looked back. A tall figure in a long hooded black robe and holding a rather large and dangerous looking scythe stood beside his bed. Chris looked at the figure and saw that it had a smooth flowing figure near the chest and hips. Chris began to shake with fear. The figure lifted it's arm and a pale white hand underneath the robe reached for Chris. Chris scrunched himself against the wall and yelled.

"Get away from me you psycho woman!"

The figure's hand stopped and reached for the hood. It pulled it off and Chris' fears were confirmed. It was the woman from the afternoon. She chuckled at Chris' remark.

"After hundreds of years, you're the first one to ever call me psycho!" laughed the woman as she put her hand over her mouth.

Chris waited in fear as the woman's laughter faded. Then he swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke again.

"Just who the hell are you and what do you want with me?"

The woman's face became serious and she took her hand off of her scythe, which disappeared.

"I am called many names. Morte, The Black Horseman, Angel of Death, and the universal name of just Death. I however have given myself my own name. I call myself Lucy," answered the woman.

Chris still did not like this woman, even if her name was Lucy.

"Well Lucy, what do you want with me?" asked Chris.

Lucy rubbed her chin and looked at Chris.

"Plain and simple sugar. I'm here for your soul. Why else would Death be here?" asked Lucy.

Chris' eyes opened wide in fear.

"Why MY soul!? I'm not ready to die yet!" cried Chris.

"Too bad honey! You take a peek into the soul of Death, you have to die! You have seen things that only The Master and I shall ever have access to! I've come for your soul Chris Judgeman! May The Master have mercy on your soul!" screamed Lucy as she summoned her scythe out of thin air and swung it down at Chris.

Chris dodged out of the way, but the scythe nicked his shoulder cutting it open. Chris looked down to see a white silvery looking fluid begin to drip down his arm.

"Oh my God. is that my soul?" asked Chris loudly.

Chris ran from the room and tumbled down the stairs still holding his shoulder. He opened the door only to run into Lucy headon. She felt suprisingly soft and warm as he bumped into her and fell on his back. He looked up to Lucy as she raised the scythe for the final blow. She swung down and Chris closed his eyes and waited. Only silence came after the scythe dropped.

Chapter Three coming soon.

[Tasselfoot]

Chromer, would you mind following the same guideline that I asked Mal to follow? Please post all parts of the same story in the same thread so as not to clutter the forum.

Thanks.

[Chromer]

How do you want me to do it? Do you want me to put all of the links on one page or what?

[Eyoshi]

The story seems pretty interesting. Though a few parts didn't seem to flow so well in my mind as I read it, overall, it looks well done.

Also, if you're going to place multiple chapters in one thread, I'd ask that you also make links to the thread pages where the chapters are. The thread gets cluttered as later chapters are written and replies are made.

[Chromer]

Oy I'm confused.

[Tasselfoot]

Look at Mal's Creep World thread... when he gets a new chapter, he posts it. Few replies come after, then another new chapter. Fairly simple.

[Fungishroom]

Wow, not bad. The beginning could of used more detail as well as the very end when he ran into Lucy Headon. Keep going. It's very interesting.

[Kilgamayan]

Originally Posted by Tasselfoot

Chromer, would you mind following the same guideline that I asked Mal to follow? Please post all parts of the same story in the same thread so as not to clutter the forum.

Thanks.

This is what the Merge Topic function is for.

[nickadeemus]

However, after the experience he had tonight, it would be a while before he touched anyone but himself.

OK, I know this is the CT forum, but come on! If you meant that to mean what it looks like it means . . . then that's just weird.
The vocabulary in some parts of the story is lacking, but it's a fun read. Hope Chris doesn't lose too much of his white fluid.

[Chromer]

Ahh, finally someone caught that joke. Anyways, the story will finally start to come together in Chapter 3:"Death's Got A Hitman." Also, is the next chapter supposed to be in this thread or what?

[Fungishroom]

Yes, that is what Tass said. So that they don't clutter the forum.

[Moogy]

IT HAS 16TH NOTES AT 300 BPM

[Chromer]

^ I ask that Moogy's post be removed from the thread.

[igotrhythm]

LOL..."Death Reveals." Moogy hasn't necessarily won this thread just yet, but he does have a tiebreaker.

I'm wondering how Chris was able to look at that red glow in her eyes in the first place. Most people aren't as, um, attuned to the representatives of the underworld. I like how you portrayed the Reaper as a woman, though, an interpretation I haven't seen since first watching Yu Yu Hakusho.

I wouldn't recommend you going to a publisher with this kind of stuff anytime soon, though.

[Chromer]

Sorry for the long hiatus guys. I have another series I'm working on at the moment called Shot Through The Heart. Anyways, enjoy Chapter 3. Its a great one.

Death and I – Chapter Three: “The Awakening of the Death Seeker”


The scythe sliced through the air with a deathly silence that could not be matched. The scythe came down across Chris’ neck and upper body, leaving a long streak across him. The translucent, pearly fluid began to gush out of Chris as if it had been blood instead of his soul that was leaking out. Chris looked up with watery eyes at Lucy. Her face was showing lines of stress and age as she scowled at the boy who had dared look into her being. Chris’ consciousness began to fade as he lay back on the hardwood floor and looked at the white ceiling of his hallway. He smiled and chuckled.

“I didn’t even get to have sex yet,” said Chris as his vision faded to black and he died.

Chris was standing under a spotlight in a large, black void. The air around him was thick and tangible and made him breathe with difficulty. Chris raised his hands to his face and inspected his arms and hands. Then he lifted the black shirt he had been wearing and looked at his torso. The long, painful laceration that had been made by Lucy’s scythe was mysteriously gone. Chris’s breathing became more rapid and fervent and he began to perspire. Suddenly, a long drawling, scathing voice emerged from the darkness.

“The soul seeker has come. His soul shall be joined in union with Death. He shall be the DEATH SEEKER,” hissed the voice from whereabouts unknown.

Chris began to shiver with fright. Obviously, the voice had been talking about him. However, if Chris had died, shouldn’t he be in Heaven talking to God or in Hell burning with Satan? It was too late to ask questions now, as a heavy footfall began to emerge from the front of Chris. Chris’ lips pressed together until they were scars on his face. The heavy thud of each slow moving foot grew louder as they approached Chris. Finally, a large, hulking mass in a black hooded robe came out of the darkness and stood in front of Chris. The spotlight seemed to sense this and grew even wider to accompany the larger of the two. Chris looked up at this terrifying new creature. It was only black inside of the hood, but the rest of its body reminded him of a championship bodybuilder turned mutant. The scathing voice returned again.

“Now, to complete the transfer, the Soul Seeker must relinquish half of his soul to be joined with Death’s being. Remove half of his soul now,” the voice ordered.

The being grunted a deep, powerful sound and began to move towards Chris. Chris could only cower in fear as the heavy breathing of the figure bore down on him. The figure walked around to Chris’ left and grabbed him by the arm. Chris let out a tiny squeak as the figure grabbed his wrist and extended Chris’ arm at full length. There was only silence as the figure gave a quick tug. As if in a horror movie, half of Chris’s body was torn off, down to the bone. Chris could only stare in horror as his organs, blood, muscle, flesh, and fluids spilt to the ground. At first there was no pain, but then came the most intense pain any human will ever feel unless they were being burned alive in Hell themselves. Chris, even though in pain, noticed that he could still stand on his skeleton. Chris’ vision began to fade as his heart started to slow down and stop beating.

“Hurry up you fool and finish the ritual! Can’t you see his body can not take this for much longer!?” hissed the voice again.

The large figure only grunted in approval as it waved its left hand forward as to beckon something. A large, purplish mass of gelatinous goop began to slide from the darkness and crawl towards Chris’ body with a soft plopping sound. Chris’ right eye watched as the goop began to climb up his femur and sink into the bone and cavity of his open torso as it filled his body in. The pain began to subside as Chris watched as his organs, muscle, tissue, and other body parts regenerated and grew inside of him. Finally his vision in his left eye returned and he watch as the last of his skin grow like grass. Chris flexed his arm around and looked at it. He couldn’t explain it, but a new sense of power began to fill his body. It was a dark, ominous feeling that he couldn’t help shake. He inspected his palm and saw what looked like a mark inflicted by the goop when it healed his body. It was a cross. Chris touched the cross and was filled again with a peace that passed all understanding. Whatever had just happened to Chris, it definitely involved some kind of spiritual influence. Suddenly, the large figure disappeared into thin air and the spotlight shining on Chris began to wane until Chris was bathed in darkness again.


Chris opened his eyes and moved his hands to check for feeling. His right pinky twitched slightly and he was relieved. He slowly sat up and looked towards his open door. Lucy was still standing at the door, mouth agape. Chris knew for sure she would be surprised to see the boy she had just destroyed had mysteriously returned to life. As far as she was concerned, no one escaped Death and lived. Chris stood up and inspected his arms again. The same power he had felt only moments ago was still surging through him. His eyes looked up and stared in Lucy’s. Lucy saw this and for the first time since her existence had came forth when Cain slain his brother Abel, Death had been slightly afraid. Chris saw this and strangely laughed.

“Surprised Lucy? I’m surprised myself. I must be the very first person to survive your scythe huh? You must be losing your touch honey,” said Chris mockingly.

Death’s eyes turned a bright red as her eyebrows furrowed and her face contorted in rage. Not only had she not been able to kill this boy, she was being mocked by him. The ultimate form of death was being mocked! Lucy let out an inhuman cry of rage as she grabbed her scythe and rushed forward towards Chris. Chris raised his hand in the air and stopped her as if she was a bus coming to a crossing guard. Lucy began to squirm and twist but she could not move her body a single inch. She looked into Chris’ eyes and spat out her rage.

“NO ONE MOCKS DEATH AND LIVES TO TELL THE TALE. I PROMISE YOU, I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER IN ETERNAL MISERY,’ hissed the inhuman, true voice of Death.

Chris only smiled at her as his own eyes turned an even brighter red and he lifted his hand in the air clenching his fist. Lucy began to rise in the air, clutching her throat as if to be off an invisible strangler. Chris let out an animalistic, almost demonic roar.

“YOU MAKE ME SUFFER? I THINK NOT INCARNATE. AS OF NOW, I HAVE ACQUIRED POWERS THAT OF YOU AND OF A SOUL SEEKER. I COULD CRUSH YOU LIKE THE INSECT THAT YOU ARE, PATHETIC REAPER,” roared Chris in his demonic voice.

Lucy began to struggle even more as Chris clenched his fist even tighter. Chris then opened his fist and she dropped. However, before she could hit the ground, Chris raised his left foot and planted it in Lucy’s stomach sending her flying out of the house and crashing into the tree that was in Chris’ front yard. The tree gave a sickening groan as it splintered where Lucy had hit it and fell over. Chris let out another inhuman roar as a red and black hooded robe replaced his pajamas and covered his body. Bluish fire engulfed Chris’ body as he walked out of the house and stood on the porch. He watched as the treetop began to shudder on top of Lucy. Lucy exploded from the tree and floated in the air with black feathered wings, flapping in the night air. She was glowing with the same bluish fire as Chris and her eyes glow red.

“I will not let an arrogant brat such as you disgrace the name of Death. You might be a Death Seeker, but I can still destroy you!” yelled Lucy as she floated in the air.

Chris laughed heartily.

“Then come and show me, Grim Reaper,” answered Chris.

“Gladly,” answered Lucy as she flew high into the air.

She then began to plunge towards the Earth, scythe in hand and the destruction of Chris, the newly made Death Seeker, on her mind.

[esupin]

I dig the story, just one question:

The voice says that the soul seeker will be joined with death to become the death seeker, but isn't Lucy Death? Or is she just the Grim Reaper?

[Chromer]

Lucy is Death Incarnate. This means that she is the physical form of death, not the actual process of death. This means that Chris joined with Death by dying, meaning part of his soul had to die in order to become a Death Seeker. This is my theory. You guys can interpret it in your own way. :P

[FoJaR]

Originally Posted by Chromer

Ok guys, the first chapter was a hit so here is chapter two.

Death and I - Chapter One: A Touch To Remember
http://www.flashflashrevolution.com/...wtopic&t=38362


Death and I

Chapter Two: Death Reveals


Chris wept for three hours before he finally was composed enough to stand on his own two feet. His head rose above the counter and saw that the sun was almost down as the sky was now a deep golden red. Strangely, no other customers had entered the store after the woman left. He knew that the next shift cashier would be coming in any moment, and Chris didn't want to bothered with at the moment.

bothered with what?

Five minutes later, a middle aged man walked in, waring the same uniform as Chris.

"Hi Chris! See any hot young ladies today?" asked the man jokingly.

Chris did not answer, but only nodded to the man in solemn silence.

"Well you can go on home now. I have the shift until Mark comes in at Midnight," said the man.

Chris grabbed his leather jacket, waved back to the man, and stepped out onto the street. His face had te look of a weather beaten stone,

lol. i would like you to show me the difference between a regular stone and a "weather beaten" stone.

as if he had lived a longer life than his body appeared to show.

so it looks like he'd lived a longer life than it would look like... lol.

Something had definitely happened that afternoon. Chris earlier tried to dismiss it as a dream but the dent in the plastic case of the cigarette cabinet told him otherwise. And the warning the woman gave him scared him most of all. She would come back to take from him what he dared to look into.

poor choice. you tried to go deep and it didnt work.

Of course Chris knew that she meant his soul and he became scared. Who exactly was this woman? Why did she call him a Soul Seeker? Why had he seen the vision of pain and death in her? Most of all, why had her eyes glowed that demonic red aura?

again, you are trying too hard, and it shows. reading that last paragraph was like reading emo kid poetry.

Too many questions and too little answers racked his brain.

too few answers.

Chris walked down the empty street and looked around. People were closing down thier shops for the day and going home to their families. Chris, having no car, could only watch as the owners got into thier cars and drove away.

that last sentance doesnt flow well. if you changed owners to something else it might fix it though.

He turned right on Main Street and began walking down Bridgetown Road.

physically impossible.

Houses began to develop on either side of him as he entered his neighborhood.

develop doesnt work.

He watched as men and women finished mowing lawns, cooking barbecues, or gardening thier flowers.

men and women is excessive. try people. cooking barbecues is redundant and incorrect.

These people lived only for themselves, not ever caring for the world outside of their hermetically sealed existence. Chris hated these people more than anything. In some sense, he hated himself just as much, for he was like them.

cliched.

During the school year, he mostly kept to himself and only had few friends. The only joy he had was to come to work and acquire more thoughts for the night.

makes no sense.

However, after the experience he had tonight, it would be a while before he touched anyone but himself.

there is no reason for the "However", and the whole sentance is extraneous.

Chris turned left and slowly walked up his driveway to his front door. He heard a dog bark down the street before he took out his house key and opened the door. He entered his dark house and close the door behind him. He continued forward down his foyer, dropping his jacket by the staircase and turned left towards the kitchen. He flipped on the light and and saw a white piece of paper on his kitchen table. He grabbed and read.


CHRIS:

I HAVE TO WORK LATE TONIGHT. THERE ARE LEFTOVERS IN THE FRIDGE. HAVE A GOOD NIGHT HONEY.

-MOM

Chris crumpled the note in disgust and threw into the trash can.

disgust is the wrong word.

His mother again was going to be late getting home. Chris knew she wasn't working, only hanging out with her co-workers and getting drunk on Apple Martinis.

again is misplaced, only is the wrong word.

After his father had left, his mother had hit a pretty bad slump in her life.

take out the hads, the "in her life" is also not nessicary.

As a vice president of a computer company, she had no problem sustaining Chris and herself financially. But mentally, the lonliness had eaten away at her. Chris silently warmed up the leftover lasaugna in the fridge and ate it in front of the tv. Even though his favorite show was on, he had no interest in it. He walked upstairs to his room and decided to take a shower. He closed his eyes as the hot waterbeat his back like a waterfall. The red glowing eyes of the woman instantly returned and he opened them quickly. The image of the woman's eyes would not leave Chris' mind now matter how hard he tried.

Chris returned to his room and got dressed in his bed clothes: a pair of pajama pants with anchors on them and a short sleeve shirt that said, "I Love To Party!" on it. He was closing his door when a cold wind began to blow at his back. Chris turned around quickly and saw what it was. His window had come open mysteriously.

OMG IT'S A MYSTERY!

What was more bizarre was a cold wind in July.

there are probably a dozen ways to say this that sound better.

Chris hesitantly closed his window, turned off the light, and got into bed. The lime green glow of his alarm clock cast an eerie setting over the room as Chris could only stare at his ceiling. The fear of the woman began to increase and increase as the hours passed.

again, it sounds corny.

Midnight came and yet Chris had still not fallen asleep.

Finally, seeing as the woman would probably not show, Chris fell asleep.

poorly written sentance.

WHOOSH. The window again flew open and Chris' eyes opened immediately.

did the window fly open the first time? i dont recall... "WHOOSH" indeed.

The wind died down but Chris began to cough.

change the "but" to an "and".

He could see his breath again. Now however, icicles began to grow on his desk and closet, while the room began to freeze.

get rid of the "Now however", and "while the room began to freeze" doesnt sound good.

Chris looked at the icicle near his head and looked back.

looked back at what? what was he looking at originally?

A tall figure in a long hooded black robe and holding a rather large and dangerous looking scythe stood beside his bed.

take out the "and" and reword the rest of that sentance.

Chris looked at the figure and saw that it had a smooth flowing figure near the chest and hips.

using figure the way you did sounds redundant even though you use it in two different capacaties. as for the rest of the sentance, i'd say scrap it. because it's very poorly written.

Chris began to shake with fear. The figure lifted it's arm and a pale white hand underneath the robe reached for Chris.

too many subjects in the second sentance.

Chris scrunched himself against the wall and yelled.

"Get away from me you psycho woman!"

The figure's hand stopped and reached for the hood. It pulled it off and Chris' fears were confirmed. It was the woman from the afternoon. She chuckled at Chris' remark.

generally poor writing.

"After hundreds of years, you're the first one to ever call me psycho!" laughed the woman as she put her hand over her mouth.

after is not the right word, but that doesnt really matter because the whole sentance should be scrapped.

Chris waited in fear as the woman's laughter faded. Then he swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke again.

"Just who the hell are you and what do you want with me?"

The woman's face became serious and she took her hand off of her scythe, which disappeared.

"I am called many names. Morte, The Black Horseman, Angel of Death, and the universal name of just Death. I however have given myself my own name. I call myself Lucy," answered the woman.

too wordy. simplify it.

Chris still did not like this woman, even if her name was Lucy.

LOL

"Well Lucy, what do you want with me?" asked Chris.

Lucy rubbed her chin and looked at Chris.

"Plain and simple sugar. I'm here for your soul. Why else would Death be here?" asked Lucy.

sounds stupid.

Chris' eyes opened wide in fear.

"Why MY soul!? I'm not ready to die yet!" cried Chris.

change "why MY soul" to something else.

"Too bad honey! You take a peek into the soul of Death, you have to die! You have seen things that only The Master and I shall ever have access to!

again, a failed attempt at depth. that sounds really cheesy.

I've come for your soul Chris Judgeman! May The Master have mercy on your soul!" screamed Lucy as she summoned her scythe out of thin air and swung it down at Chris.

too much soul, and "the master" sounds ridiculous.

Chris dodged out of the way, but the scythe nicked his shoulder cutting it open. Chris looked down to see a white silvery looking fluid begin to drip down his arm.

you get one point.

"Oh my God. is that my soul?" asked Chris loudly.

Chris ran from the room and tumbled down the stairs still holding his shoulder. He opened the door only to run into Lucy headon. She felt suprisingly soft and warm as he bumped into her and fell on his back. He looked up to Lucy as she raised the scythe for the final blow. She swung down and Chris closed his eyes and waited. Only silence came after the scythe dropped.

Chapter Three coming soon.

overall, the story was trite and not compelling in the least. on my first read through, i tried to ignore the grammatical errors and focus on the plot, which was not entirely possible. your writing style detracted from what little substance there was to this story.

your writing shows a poor understanding of sentance structure, and an overuse of vocabulary that sacrifices clarity and cohesiveness. the best word i can use to describe this story is "cheesy".

i hope that some of the things i've said have helped, even if you choose to ignore the comments that might injure your pride.

[Moogy]

Wow, Fojar is correct on pretty much all counts.

Except how to spell the word "sentence."

But I suppose that could be forgiven, for someone with such a keen critical wit.

[FoJaR]

yeah sorry, my spelling has been on the decline lately.