Post by illusion on Jan 30, 2006 13:05:22 GMT -5
Her heart was echoing beats down either side of the hallway , she knew this place better than anywhere she had ever been. She had known this place since childhood, she had even known this place before she occupied the world as another sack of walking filth and flesh. This place was, moreso than anywhere else, her home, even before her soul engaged into the muster of culture and general existance it had stalked these dismal hallways. Perhaps even when she died, however close or far away that day lays, she too would return to this place then.
She seemed to be dressed in an almost doll-like outfit, an uneeded amount of lace and such things, or perhaps some sort of morbid wedding gown. A good eight feet of fabric slid behind her, joined with a length of black mesh, however it was about as covering as anything else anyone had seen her wear. A slit ran up the front of her dress, where folds gathered before falling behind. It began at her toes, and finished at an area dangerously near her upper thigh. The upper portion of the dress was a rather fancy corset, a length of ice colored silk beneath detailed black mesh with an ice colored lace up in the front. Her legs were covered, or at least slightly, with a pair of ice colored fish nets that reached to her thigh, black bows near the top and gashes in them. Joined at their top is a black garter that grabs onto them. Shoe wise she wears a pair of nearly knee high black boots with ice colored lace laces and large silver buckles. The bottoms of the boots made of pure steel and make a metallic noise as she moves.
Her hair was done up in matching fashion, with ice colored and black dreadfalls. Some lace tying them onto the hair to give them the look of rather massive, dreadlock made, pigtails. Her makeup kissed her eyes with an icy caress, trailing up towards her eyebrows slowly fading away into her porcelein flesh. Her lips weren't kissed however, only lined with a thin trail of black, a slight curl off on the right side of her mouth. She looked nothing short of a morbid china doll, a decadent dress, perfect make up, and a pretty mouth.
She stopped and looked over herself, mouthing a "What the (BLEEP)?"... she didn't wear dresses (save for her wedding dress). Ever... but then, the hallway captured her attention again.
She gazed one way, then the other, not really needing to but maybe seeing if anything had changed since her last visit. It was all a waste of time, if anything.
The hallway was dreary, an overpass of gray for the ceiling, and the same for the all but baren secluding walls, and the stable floor beneath her. It hadn't changed. It seemed to be covered in a haze, one that obscured things that seemed to be scurrying about her feet, rats? She looked down towards them, to get a better view.
They weren't rats.
The creatures seemed to be a mix of man and arachnid, somewhat of a centipede with a man's head, and a man's face. They would pass by each other, this following series of events occuring very often, and begin bickering like children amongst one another. After a moment They would push one another, back and forth, a war soon breaking out between them. They would tear each other apart and would leave neither as a winner. Their bodies would litter the area as though there was a bodily explosion, and the chunks would lie there... until another small group would wander by and pick at the remains.
It wasn't something she hadn't seen before.
She watched the creatures for an instant longer, keeping her steps still as she wanted to take in everything about them. As simple and crude as they were, they fascinated her. Fascinated her to no end. Because it was all something she saw everyday, people scurrying around like insects, shouting and forcing their ideals on one another. Just like the lives that everyone is forced to live outside of the hallway she now occupied. They fought and bickered until finally, a single victore turned the other into a martyr for their beliefs. However, both creatures would become martyrs, as the first took the other down as a secondary martyr. After a few more of the ridiculous creatureæs encounters she laughed to herself, a genuine but cynical smile blooming on her lovely face.
"You silly, silly things... you fight so hard and bitterly amongst yourselves, but why? Don't you know you're all wrong? Haven't you seen that in the end you'll never win?"
She shakes her head, laughing and continuing her long walk down the drab and dreary hallway, not taking care to step around the creatures on the floor but stepping on them now, screams emitting from their mouths as she goes. She doesnæt notice them though, as their blood covers her feet, leaving footprints behind her like wet paint on a canvas. The hallway slowly becoming a beautiful piece of art, or at least in her eyes. It was a piece of 'modern art' as 'great' as the works of Andy Warhol. A real piece of art, of modern art, only this modern art had emotions behind it.
"It's like each and everyone of you truly believe that you have the correct beliefs. Socialism this, capitalism that or Hinduism this and Christianity that. You're all so ridiculous!"
She stops now, fiinally approaching an end to the seemingly unending hallway. She came to a trio of doors. The first of the three was a large golden door, rather plain save for the elaborate name plate, also made of gold, that read, in a cascading order, "Uncle Stefan", "Politics", "Guilty". A few inches (perhaps even a foot or so from this name plate) was a golden handle in the shape of a hand coming from a lovely suit. It seemed as though the door knob was reaching out from the door, begging for the first person to see it to shake its hand, letting whoever it were to shake it lead into the land beyond the gold. But, sitting in the palm of this hand, was a piece of lamenated paper that read "Out To Lunch", spelled out in calligraphy. Illusion turns her head slightly to the side, cocking it for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Well... that means the other has called me then..."
She then overlooked the second door in favor for the third, another large golden door. However this one, unlike the first which had an almost... political feel, leaves a heavenly taste int he mouth. Starting at the trumpeting angels that overlooked the threshold to the clouds that lined the design of the door itself and the large cross that stood amidst other religious symbols on the center of the door. Like the first door, this one also has a nameplate, one just as beautiful and elaborate that the first door's. The only real differance was that the name plate read, still in a cascading order, "Mr. Nothingface", "Religion", "Innocent". Her sight was brought down to the door knob, almost as though she was praying to find another "Out To Lunch" sign hanging from the door knob, but to no avail. She frowned slightly, then lifted her right hand to rap on the door three times.
Everything was quiet, and it seemed to be this way for a large amount of time, until there was a sound. Something stirring within the confines of the room with the heavenly door, it sounded as though it were the shuffling of a giant mass of papers, followed by a voice. A voice that seemed to be dipped in honey, the voice of someone whose life was a mass of manipulation and sugar coated coaxing.
"Illusion! My dear! Don't hesitate, don't knock, come in! Come in!"
The door opened slowly, without a hand to do so, and Illusion did exactly as the voice had instructed her to. There was no hesitation. Just ushering herself into the room presented before her, as though she was even being drawn in by a pupeteer's string.
As her eyes came upon the room, her heart began to beat at an abnormal rate. Beating like a wild animal against her rib cage, she frowned and tried to avoid moving her eyes to make contact with whatever was inside that room calling and beckoning her in.
The room was... nothing. It was absolutely nothing, no darkness, no light. It was something that nobody could really comprehend. The only things that actually existed in the room was a man behind a desk set with three giant stacks of paper that seem to blow into the non-existance that is, or isn't, the room, but he even seemed as surreal as the room. From the ridiculously crafted pinstripe suit in clashing shades of olive and orange, quite reminiscent of vomit really, the impossibly long fingers that drooped from his palms like hooks, even more so made this way by the long upward pointing claws at the tips of those fingers. Atop his head sat a olive green top hat, with a flannel scarf of the orange color.
His head was tipped forward so shadow, one cast by the ridiculous hat on his head, hid his face away from view, all that could be seen was an unending darkness, and a blazing red glow, and his strange hands were set to work scrawling unintelligable writing on the surfaces of some of the papers before him. He does this for a long amount of time, with Illusion simply watching him working away he doesn't look up and he remains silent.
"You seemed to be in such a rush to have me in your presence, Mr. Nothingface, may I ask that you state your business with me, I have much to..."
"HUSH! How am I ever to finish these prayers and sermons for those out there who think they preach to a higher power? God can't get his word out himself you know, that's why I'm here. To spread his word while at the same time shining truths on everything from one shining ocean to the next. Oh, how glorious an ideal, I really do wonder what it would be that I did if I hadn't such a luxurious occupation..."
Illusion's mouth turned downward into a rather well placed frown, she walks around the side of the desk, through the non-existance, and seems to simply stare at the man who had just spoken to her, reading over his shoulder the papers that lie before him. As she read, her frown seemed to deepen as the words themselves were not what the man had said they were... these things weren't sermons and prayers, they were the events that were occuring now in different areas of the world. As she read the lines on the paper, she read the outcome of her future, of things that woud come to pass, of things that could be changed and those that could not. This sheet of paper before this strange man held all the secrets of her life and her general existance, the secrets of everyone's existance and for a moment a time of perfect understanding blossomed into her. Of why anyone did what they did or had done, of who everyone truly was, of what they were their for and why they had come to be.
After moments, tears began to stream down her face.
"You lie to me..."
The man stoped his scrawling and looked to Illusion, finally something more was revealed through the deep shadows that grew around his face. The blazing red glow was his eyes, which were of course now focused on Illusion, and beneath them was something that could be explained as nothing short of a razorblade smile one that was framed by a medium length curtain of straw-like white hair.
"I beg your pardon my dear?"
Illusion shook her head, unable to keep her eyes off the papers in front of her, tears still streaming down her face as she had just taken in the very purpose and existance of mankind and everything else on the planet. This was something she wasn't ready for, this was something that <i>no one</i> was ready for.
"These are not sermons and prayers... this is the very culling of mankind, the purpose of every last man and woman... these are the divine's manifesto, and you have allowed me to lay eyes upon it, you have cursed me to carry a great burden on my shoulders... the knowledge of their deaths, as well as the knowledge of my own. I watch these pages and now I see even <i>his</i> life coming to an end... I don't want this... I don't want any of this... I just want to be left alone."
The man, though it be strange that it was even possible, forced his smile to grow wider. He then lifted himself from his chair, his massive body towering over Illusion, he must have been somewhere near seven foot though his frame seemed ill suited to handle such a size, perhaps even looking as though it were going to collapse on him, and reached out his hands his oblong fingers and long palms cupping Illusion's hands between them as though he were perhaps speaking to a child. He lifted his thumbs and wiped away the tears that streamed down her face, marks of black following them from her once perfect makeup.
"You have to get used to it... this is what you were made for..."
She shook her head more.
"No. I will not do this, this is not what I want, this is not what it wants. We do not want to do this, at any place or time."
The man shook his head, and continued to stroke her cheeks free of the tears, going quiet for a long amount of time, before seemingly ignoring everything Illusion had said.
"We've kept you away long enough Illusion, trying to shape you into the creature that you're supposed to be, trying to make you something that you were destined to be. To shape you into the thing that Billy wanted... We saw this coming a long, long time ago, you and I. Remember when you were but a girl, and we watched how this night will be played out? How we sat and watched everything that will happen between you and him?"
Illusion nodded slowly.
"You watched what you did to the man... you reveled in every last hit and blow. You held no respect for him, and you allowed an unmatched fury to be released from yourself. You screamed at him, and gave him every ounce of energy you had, you didn't stop when you finished either."
Illusion seems to mouth something, but it is audible only to the man.
"Yes... you wanted to hurt him... and it felt good to do so, didn't it?"
Illusion nodded, a pout coming to her lips and her eyebrows knitting together in worry.
"I wanted to destroy Wayne... not because of anything he did... but because it felt good to do it... it felt so right..."
Illusion's eyes opened and she nodded slowly.
"It felt as right as it did so long ago... when Billy told me to..."
"Then we understand each other... you know what you must do."
"Yes, completely."
The smile on the 'man's' face grew wider.
"Then you're ready."
Illusion's mouth opened, ready to say something again, but all that happened was her eyes opened and she was staring forward. Her head turned slowly to the sleeping form of Billy, she looks to the table next to her bed... a bottle of pills on it, then back to Billy... to the pills, to Billy... to the pills...
WHACK! She back handed him, hard in the head.
"STOP MESSING WITH MY PILLS, DAMN IT!"
The action and screaming wakes Billy up, instantly he punches Illusion in the stomach, she doubles over as her rolls over, pulling the blankets over his head.
She seemed to be dressed in an almost doll-like outfit, an uneeded amount of lace and such things, or perhaps some sort of morbid wedding gown. A good eight feet of fabric slid behind her, joined with a length of black mesh, however it was about as covering as anything else anyone had seen her wear. A slit ran up the front of her dress, where folds gathered before falling behind. It began at her toes, and finished at an area dangerously near her upper thigh. The upper portion of the dress was a rather fancy corset, a length of ice colored silk beneath detailed black mesh with an ice colored lace up in the front. Her legs were covered, or at least slightly, with a pair of ice colored fish nets that reached to her thigh, black bows near the top and gashes in them. Joined at their top is a black garter that grabs onto them. Shoe wise she wears a pair of nearly knee high black boots with ice colored lace laces and large silver buckles. The bottoms of the boots made of pure steel and make a metallic noise as she moves.
Her hair was done up in matching fashion, with ice colored and black dreadfalls. Some lace tying them onto the hair to give them the look of rather massive, dreadlock made, pigtails. Her makeup kissed her eyes with an icy caress, trailing up towards her eyebrows slowly fading away into her porcelein flesh. Her lips weren't kissed however, only lined with a thin trail of black, a slight curl off on the right side of her mouth. She looked nothing short of a morbid china doll, a decadent dress, perfect make up, and a pretty mouth.
She stopped and looked over herself, mouthing a "What the (BLEEP)?"... she didn't wear dresses (save for her wedding dress). Ever... but then, the hallway captured her attention again.
She gazed one way, then the other, not really needing to but maybe seeing if anything had changed since her last visit. It was all a waste of time, if anything.
The hallway was dreary, an overpass of gray for the ceiling, and the same for the all but baren secluding walls, and the stable floor beneath her. It hadn't changed. It seemed to be covered in a haze, one that obscured things that seemed to be scurrying about her feet, rats? She looked down towards them, to get a better view.
They weren't rats.
The creatures seemed to be a mix of man and arachnid, somewhat of a centipede with a man's head, and a man's face. They would pass by each other, this following series of events occuring very often, and begin bickering like children amongst one another. After a moment They would push one another, back and forth, a war soon breaking out between them. They would tear each other apart and would leave neither as a winner. Their bodies would litter the area as though there was a bodily explosion, and the chunks would lie there... until another small group would wander by and pick at the remains.
It wasn't something she hadn't seen before.
She watched the creatures for an instant longer, keeping her steps still as she wanted to take in everything about them. As simple and crude as they were, they fascinated her. Fascinated her to no end. Because it was all something she saw everyday, people scurrying around like insects, shouting and forcing their ideals on one another. Just like the lives that everyone is forced to live outside of the hallway she now occupied. They fought and bickered until finally, a single victore turned the other into a martyr for their beliefs. However, both creatures would become martyrs, as the first took the other down as a secondary martyr. After a few more of the ridiculous creatureæs encounters she laughed to herself, a genuine but cynical smile blooming on her lovely face.
"You silly, silly things... you fight so hard and bitterly amongst yourselves, but why? Don't you know you're all wrong? Haven't you seen that in the end you'll never win?"
She shakes her head, laughing and continuing her long walk down the drab and dreary hallway, not taking care to step around the creatures on the floor but stepping on them now, screams emitting from their mouths as she goes. She doesnæt notice them though, as their blood covers her feet, leaving footprints behind her like wet paint on a canvas. The hallway slowly becoming a beautiful piece of art, or at least in her eyes. It was a piece of 'modern art' as 'great' as the works of Andy Warhol. A real piece of art, of modern art, only this modern art had emotions behind it.
"It's like each and everyone of you truly believe that you have the correct beliefs. Socialism this, capitalism that or Hinduism this and Christianity that. You're all so ridiculous!"
She stops now, fiinally approaching an end to the seemingly unending hallway. She came to a trio of doors. The first of the three was a large golden door, rather plain save for the elaborate name plate, also made of gold, that read, in a cascading order, "Uncle Stefan", "Politics", "Guilty". A few inches (perhaps even a foot or so from this name plate) was a golden handle in the shape of a hand coming from a lovely suit. It seemed as though the door knob was reaching out from the door, begging for the first person to see it to shake its hand, letting whoever it were to shake it lead into the land beyond the gold. But, sitting in the palm of this hand, was a piece of lamenated paper that read "Out To Lunch", spelled out in calligraphy. Illusion turns her head slightly to the side, cocking it for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Well... that means the other has called me then..."
She then overlooked the second door in favor for the third, another large golden door. However this one, unlike the first which had an almost... political feel, leaves a heavenly taste int he mouth. Starting at the trumpeting angels that overlooked the threshold to the clouds that lined the design of the door itself and the large cross that stood amidst other religious symbols on the center of the door. Like the first door, this one also has a nameplate, one just as beautiful and elaborate that the first door's. The only real differance was that the name plate read, still in a cascading order, "Mr. Nothingface", "Religion", "Innocent". Her sight was brought down to the door knob, almost as though she was praying to find another "Out To Lunch" sign hanging from the door knob, but to no avail. She frowned slightly, then lifted her right hand to rap on the door three times.
Everything was quiet, and it seemed to be this way for a large amount of time, until there was a sound. Something stirring within the confines of the room with the heavenly door, it sounded as though it were the shuffling of a giant mass of papers, followed by a voice. A voice that seemed to be dipped in honey, the voice of someone whose life was a mass of manipulation and sugar coated coaxing.
"Illusion! My dear! Don't hesitate, don't knock, come in! Come in!"
The door opened slowly, without a hand to do so, and Illusion did exactly as the voice had instructed her to. There was no hesitation. Just ushering herself into the room presented before her, as though she was even being drawn in by a pupeteer's string.
As her eyes came upon the room, her heart began to beat at an abnormal rate. Beating like a wild animal against her rib cage, she frowned and tried to avoid moving her eyes to make contact with whatever was inside that room calling and beckoning her in.
The room was... nothing. It was absolutely nothing, no darkness, no light. It was something that nobody could really comprehend. The only things that actually existed in the room was a man behind a desk set with three giant stacks of paper that seem to blow into the non-existance that is, or isn't, the room, but he even seemed as surreal as the room. From the ridiculously crafted pinstripe suit in clashing shades of olive and orange, quite reminiscent of vomit really, the impossibly long fingers that drooped from his palms like hooks, even more so made this way by the long upward pointing claws at the tips of those fingers. Atop his head sat a olive green top hat, with a flannel scarf of the orange color.
His head was tipped forward so shadow, one cast by the ridiculous hat on his head, hid his face away from view, all that could be seen was an unending darkness, and a blazing red glow, and his strange hands were set to work scrawling unintelligable writing on the surfaces of some of the papers before him. He does this for a long amount of time, with Illusion simply watching him working away he doesn't look up and he remains silent.
"You seemed to be in such a rush to have me in your presence, Mr. Nothingface, may I ask that you state your business with me, I have much to..."
"HUSH! How am I ever to finish these prayers and sermons for those out there who think they preach to a higher power? God can't get his word out himself you know, that's why I'm here. To spread his word while at the same time shining truths on everything from one shining ocean to the next. Oh, how glorious an ideal, I really do wonder what it would be that I did if I hadn't such a luxurious occupation..."
Illusion's mouth turned downward into a rather well placed frown, she walks around the side of the desk, through the non-existance, and seems to simply stare at the man who had just spoken to her, reading over his shoulder the papers that lie before him. As she read, her frown seemed to deepen as the words themselves were not what the man had said they were... these things weren't sermons and prayers, they were the events that were occuring now in different areas of the world. As she read the lines on the paper, she read the outcome of her future, of things that woud come to pass, of things that could be changed and those that could not. This sheet of paper before this strange man held all the secrets of her life and her general existance, the secrets of everyone's existance and for a moment a time of perfect understanding blossomed into her. Of why anyone did what they did or had done, of who everyone truly was, of what they were their for and why they had come to be.
After moments, tears began to stream down her face.
"You lie to me..."
The man stoped his scrawling and looked to Illusion, finally something more was revealed through the deep shadows that grew around his face. The blazing red glow was his eyes, which were of course now focused on Illusion, and beneath them was something that could be explained as nothing short of a razorblade smile one that was framed by a medium length curtain of straw-like white hair.
"I beg your pardon my dear?"
Illusion shook her head, unable to keep her eyes off the papers in front of her, tears still streaming down her face as she had just taken in the very purpose and existance of mankind and everything else on the planet. This was something she wasn't ready for, this was something that <i>no one</i> was ready for.
"These are not sermons and prayers... this is the very culling of mankind, the purpose of every last man and woman... these are the divine's manifesto, and you have allowed me to lay eyes upon it, you have cursed me to carry a great burden on my shoulders... the knowledge of their deaths, as well as the knowledge of my own. I watch these pages and now I see even <i>his</i> life coming to an end... I don't want this... I don't want any of this... I just want to be left alone."
The man, though it be strange that it was even possible, forced his smile to grow wider. He then lifted himself from his chair, his massive body towering over Illusion, he must have been somewhere near seven foot though his frame seemed ill suited to handle such a size, perhaps even looking as though it were going to collapse on him, and reached out his hands his oblong fingers and long palms cupping Illusion's hands between them as though he were perhaps speaking to a child. He lifted his thumbs and wiped away the tears that streamed down her face, marks of black following them from her once perfect makeup.
"You have to get used to it... this is what you were made for..."
She shook her head more.
"No. I will not do this, this is not what I want, this is not what it wants. We do not want to do this, at any place or time."
The man shook his head, and continued to stroke her cheeks free of the tears, going quiet for a long amount of time, before seemingly ignoring everything Illusion had said.
"We've kept you away long enough Illusion, trying to shape you into the creature that you're supposed to be, trying to make you something that you were destined to be. To shape you into the thing that Billy wanted... We saw this coming a long, long time ago, you and I. Remember when you were but a girl, and we watched how this night will be played out? How we sat and watched everything that will happen between you and him?"
Illusion nodded slowly.
"You watched what you did to the man... you reveled in every last hit and blow. You held no respect for him, and you allowed an unmatched fury to be released from yourself. You screamed at him, and gave him every ounce of energy you had, you didn't stop when you finished either."
Illusion seems to mouth something, but it is audible only to the man.
"Yes... you wanted to hurt him... and it felt good to do so, didn't it?"
Illusion nodded, a pout coming to her lips and her eyebrows knitting together in worry.
"I wanted to destroy Wayne... not because of anything he did... but because it felt good to do it... it felt so right..."
Illusion's eyes opened and she nodded slowly.
"It felt as right as it did so long ago... when Billy told me to..."
"Then we understand each other... you know what you must do."
"Yes, completely."
The smile on the 'man's' face grew wider.
"Then you're ready."
Illusion's mouth opened, ready to say something again, but all that happened was her eyes opened and she was staring forward. Her head turned slowly to the sleeping form of Billy, she looks to the table next to her bed... a bottle of pills on it, then back to Billy... to the pills, to Billy... to the pills...
WHACK! She back handed him, hard in the head.
"STOP MESSING WITH MY PILLS, DAMN IT!"
The action and screaming wakes Billy up, instantly he punches Illusion in the stomach, she doubles over as her rolls over, pulling the blankets over his head.