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Beliar
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Old 08-13-2011, 03:48 AM

I had an interesting dream a while back and I took some of the ideas from my dream to write a story. This story has no set title, but I'm going to go with The Theater for now (though I considered Pathos [definition])

I'm going to attempt to update this weekly. I don't know how well I'll hold up to that but I think that will encourage me to actually finish something for once. o.0

Summary: Charlie Baxter has just died. He was murdered by his now ex-wife, but he still can’t wrap his mind around it. He isn’t ready to be dead, and for reasons that are unknown a black veiled woman offers him the sweetest deal of the afterlife. He can return to the living if he goes through the Theater. That can’t be too bad, right? He teams up with another denizen of the dead, and strikes a deal with the Guardian of the Theater herself. Charlie has no clue to what he has just gotten himself into, but with a prize containing life could it be that bad?

Chapter One: Welcome to Hell

‘Did I just die?’ echoed in the corridors of Charlie’s mind. He opened his mouth to repeat the question verbally but no sound came. His vision only saw in the black and the white, and everything around him seemed unreal. ‘Am I dead?’ He asked himself, ‘How…’ but no answer came.

Charlie felt the dirt between his toes as he walked in a slow rhythm. He saw that he walked on a wide dirt road. It just went on and on, and on either side of the road were impassable rock walls. There was no escape; he could only steadily walk forward. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t turn around. His mind was in a fog. He could only ask himself the same question over and over again.

Time, something he based his entire life on, seemed nonexistent. It didn’t have a place here. It didn’t bother him when it should have. Time, is there such a thing?

‘Am I dead? No, no…’ He was in denial. He could vaguely remember his last moments, but they couldn’t have possibly have been his last. He had his whole life ahead of him, and he had been so stupid. He should have gotten that poisonous woman out of his life when he had the chance. It couldn’t possibly be too late. She couldn’t have possibly done this to him. Could she have?

“I hate you Charlie! Why couldn’t you have died, it would have been better for everyone if you had just died!” She screamed louder than what could even be thought imaginable let alone possible. She started to cry in a rage as she grabbed the knife and raised it at him. ‘It would have been better for everyone’ echoed from the walls.

‘It would have been better…’


He stepped on a rock, and it hurt. It hurt. He couldn’t be dead if he could still feel pain. He looked up for the first time and realized that he wasn’t alone. He just stood there as countless people walked past him. They were in various states of visibility and some of them were crying without sound. He tried to reach out to them. He tried to say something, anything, but he found himself immobile and no words would come. Mute.

The numerous people slowly vanished from around him until only he remained. He was alone, and he had a choice to make. He didn’t understand it but he knew he had to make one, and depending on his choice…he had to make the right one.

“Oh, Charlie! You have been such a bad boy!” A woman placed her hand on his shoulder and giggled. “Did you know that?”

He turned his head to get a good look at her and instantly regretted it. She had the voice of a young girl, but had the face of a monster. She smiled an ugly smile, and her eyes looked like those of a snake’s. She seemed so familiar, and, strangely, he couldn’t look away.

“How rude!” She snipped at him as she flipped a black veil to obscure her features. “Staring like that could get you killed!” She paused before bursting into laughter. “Killed! HAH!”

Charlie felt a cold wash of dread come over him. ‘Killed? Did I die? No, of course not, that is folly…right?’

‘It would have been better…’

“What the hell do plan on doing with that, huh?” He stared hatefully at her and gave her that smile that made her blood run cold. “Oh, Amy, we both know you won’t use that.”

Amy’s knuckles turned white as she held onto the knife with all of her strength. “You think I won’t?” It was eerie how calm her voice became. The rage from her earlier screams seemed to still, and the tension slowly left her features. She looked into Charlie’s eyes and stared at him with so much hate in her eyes it made him look away. This wasn’t the Amy he knew…


Charlie pushed the woman’s hand off of his shoulder. The hand reminded him of what a skeleton’s would look like if it wore black gloves. He gave her a look of disbelief. He wasn’t dead. That wasn’t possible. He didn’t have the time to be dead. He walked away…

…and the monstrous black veiled woman followed him. “Oh, Charlie, you are so silly! You can’t escape me.”

‘Like hell,’ Charlie thought to himself.

“Go to hell Charlie!” Amy’s voice raised in pitch, but it still held that eerie calm. It was unnerving. He didn’t know how to respond to her. He looked at her with a hate that mirrored hers, and that was the last thing he remembered before feeling something sharp pierce his skin.

“Welcome to hell, Charles Henry Baxter.”
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Last edited by Beliar; 08-13-2011 at 04:30 AM..

 


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