Asylum [RP] - 10-15-2006, 11:47 AM
I swear to god this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
This is what I saw, god help me. This is the last thing I shall ever write... It started one week ago, in Dorm B.
A black shadow slipped through the slatted air vent, floating through the air like a smoky miasma.
I was watched it as the murky mist glided over the sleeping bodies of my fellow inmates chained to their gurneys. It drew close to me, over Ink, Sin and Kina. It stopped over Kina, then… It lowered into her.
She started having a fit and the asylum nurses had to run and subdue her before she broke out of the restrains. But it wasn’t her! I KNEW, I KNEW! No one believed me!
And now, she’s going through the asylum, and her eyes are all red and people are dying, gutted like animals in sick twisted attitudes, and this white light from them is soaking into her body.
The riots have started all around me, the others are r@ping and killing each other, biting away flesh and howling in delight. And decay, black decay from the once Kina’s fingers spreading along the walls driving them even more mad.
She’s coming, because she knows that I know. I know what she is now! KINA CALLED IT! SHE KNOWS! EVIL! EVIL!! I have to warn them!
She’s closer; she’s so close, I see the hate, she’s goi-
DIARY ENDS HERE. In a splash of blood.
No immortal characters.
They got to be human, at least partway.
Can be psychic and stuff like that but not amazingly powerful.
Ghosts and stuff like that are allowed.
Aurora Opal stood in front of the old asylum with her classmates. It was a mass dare, to visit the ‘haunted asylum’ and stay for a week.
The group was neatly divided into the brazen ‘jocks’ that were there to prove how ‘tough and hard’ they were to everyone. The smart people, looking for all sorts of strange magnetic fields and whatnot. The Gothic types, pale with too much eyeliner on most, only there for the bogus spirit vibes, and the poppy, peppy girls, cheerleaders and the like. They were absolute cowards, shrieking at anything that moved and clinging to their footballer boyfriends, while complaining about the cold in their mini-skirts.
And the others, the nobodies. The all-sorts, like liquorice. Aurora was one of those, not too smart, not pretty and sl*tty, not strange enough.
She had long black hair, striking against her pale skin, in a loose braid that reached her waist and beautiful aquamarine green eyes, a rare and lighter shade of Jade then usual, her best features.
She wore pretty white jeans with silver studs and white leather boots. Her top was a collared shirt in a colour the same as her eyes with silver metallic detailing of Celtic knot work on the bre@st pocket and cuffs, the shirt cut to the slender curves of her body.
She bit her lip as one of her friends giggled next to her.
“Hey, you know what happened here? This huge riot just burst out, and when all the cops arrived, the place was actually filled with blood. When they opened the flood doors, there was a tidal wave of blood and broken bodies. That’s why the ground here is red. They say, one certain nights you can see the whole thing take place again. And at a window, you can see this girl with a journal writing in it, really panicky then sink struggling from view and blood spatter the bars. They found that girl clutching the diary, and you know what it was? Full of crap!” She laughed.
Aurora shuddered, “Katie please, don’t say that, I mean its bad enough we’re going in without knowing that!”
“Sorry, hunny.” Katie apologised.
Aurora smiled, licking her frozen lips and rubbing her hands together. Her eyes were drawn to a window, and she gasped.
A girl was there, pulling at the bars, face twisted in a mute scream. As Aurora watched, the girl was dragged from sight, one hand holding onto the bars until the last possible moment.
"Without heroes we are all plain people and don't know how far we can go."