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Welcome to TB, an all levels Harry Potter roleplay with no word count. Our purpose is to go through the books with one exception: the addition of original characters and what changes that makes.
We accept all beings and creatures in the Harry Potter verse including ghosts, veela, muggles and even centaur.
We have many active events ongoing for both students and adults and many characters and locations around the world.
Come join us and discover how your character can grow and evolve in the world of Harry Potter.
Post by ELIZA MARIE CUNNINGHAM on Sept 4, 2008 1:13:11 GMT -5
Please vote for the best piece of writing in your opinion. Do not vote for yourself or multiple times. It won't be counted if you do. Good luck, everyone. xx
{The entries are in separate posts because all together, we maxed out the amount of characters in one post {Yes, ALL together, not just Silver, so don't think you did alone, Vincent Your's and Tammy's was fine until mine came along xP}.
Post by ELIZA MARIE CUNNINGHAM on Sept 4, 2008 1:13:34 GMT -5
A
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PAIN
The paperback document seemed so worthless in this decaying world however the man clang to it with dear life as if the paper cover could shield him from death. How he happened to come across the document in question was a story in itself but right now the man standing in front of him didn’t seem interested in stupid stories. “Leave me alone!” squealed the poor man who had just found out the truth about the plague that had ravaged the once relatively peaceful planet called earth. The truth was worst then the lies that had been spread by the media and the poor squealing man felt for some arbitrary reason that it was his duty to pass on the information contained within these pages. The other man however, had quite a different agenda and unfortunately for the squealing man was the one holding a pair of high caliber pistols. The squealing man was trembling but despite the obvious lack of stability in his legs managed to muster enough courage to stand up. “You’ll have to…”
The sentence was never finished. A bullet had made its way through the man’s brain and spilled much of the man’s vital liquid on the asphalt behind him. The body lost all vitality and fell to the ground quite suddenly. There was no look of surprise on the man’s face; the gunshot had been too sudden. A growing puddle of scarlet oozed its way towards the other man’s feet who stood there unfazed by the murder he had just committed. He slowly lowered his outstretched arm and safely tucked away the gun in an inner pocket of his trench coat. Everything was silent. A gun had just been shot in downtown Washington and not a single soul could be seen running and screaming. No curious faces peeping from their windows. No angry yells, no endless shuffling caused by large masses of people trying to get away from the dangerous weapon.
As the man stood there looking coldly at the puddle of blood he knew there would be no cops, no authority, no government that was going to come speeding around the corner to take him away. It was anarchy. Kill or be kill and right now he was on the right side of that age long doctrine. He bent down and grabbed the paperback book, now covered in blood. In a practiced motion the man pushed his shades back up his nose and examined the document. It was what he was looking for and the good news put a rare smile on his face. “Found it.” On the cover in small white letters was written “Lucas Grant, Ender of mankind”. This is what the book contained:
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My name is Lucas Grant. It is quite irrelevant however, for I am not here to tell you of me or of others I know. I am here to stir up your imagination, to stir up that brain of yours with thoughts and possibilities. What your about to read might shock you, it might even scare you but I assure you, that wasn't my only intention.
To start this off think of all the times you hurt yourself physically. Think of the countless times you hit your big toe on the side of your bed, of the paper cuts, of the broken arms. Think of all these things and then think of the pain you've felt most often in your life, once again remaining physical. Can you isolate a specific stimulus? I doubt it. But now imagine a boxer. A boxer whose literally got hit in the face thousands of times. Now imagine a boxer who just started and gets hit in the face for the first time ever. Which boxer will deal with the blow better?
It is obvious that our bodies have an adaptation to pain. If we feel repeatedly a certain kind of pain we get accustomed to it. The question then obviously became why does the pain get milder? The obvious answer would be that you can remember pain. That your brain reacts better to pain the subsequent times it is felt. Basically the theory was that your brain dealt with pain a bit like your immune system deals with diseases. Now, you probably know how pain works in your body however, if you don't here's a crash course. Every time a part of your body is stimulated by some kind of painful stimulus a signal is sent to the brain. Technically it's from the brain that you feel all pain. Pain killers simply severe the contact from the pain sensors called nociceptor in your body from your brain.
Therefore certain diseases that affect the brain cannot be prescribed pain killers. Pain killers become useless since the pain comes directly from the brain. Now if you process all the information I've just told you I can assume you understand I am doing research on pain and how the body/brain reacts to it. What we are trying to discover is a way of having access to this "pain memory" and amplify certain parts of it to be able to create a painkiller that literally works no matter what the case. Like most research our work had noble intentions. However, priorities have a tendency for switching rapidly. What is seen as noble originally can easily be replaced by something very different. This is my story, this is my legacy.
November 17th 2012
Unbelievable, against all odds we have finally found the "pain memory" we have been searching for. It is actually deep inside the reaches of the brain and extremely difficult to access. However, it seems that human beings are the only living things with "pain memory" and therefore testing on animals is impossible. After theoretical practice it became obvious that practical testing would be needed. It’s for the greater good isn't it? A breakthrough here could result in the eternal good for countless individuals who have no other hope. It would give people who suffer unbearable amounts of pain another option then euthanasia. For this grand result sacrifices must be made and I’m ready to take responsibility for those sacrifices We finally managed to perform a human test and the result was very…interesting to say the least. We found that by stressing the "pain memory" with a slight and precise electrical current we could make the brain cells found in the "pain memory" react a certain way. We haven't really been able to pin-point the reaction yet but at least we get results from that part of the brain and it looks quite promising. The only issue, the only snag, the only problem is the actual result.
We started off with 5 test subjects. 4 are dead already. They all die the same way. The result which I was talking about, the promising advance that we had made might be an exaggeration. What we've managed to do is spark the "pain memory" to, in simple terms, release everything it's got. Basically every single scratch, every single broken arm, every single bruise, every single pain you have EVER felt in your lifetime all sent coursing through you in a single instant.
Scorched into my mind I can see the inhuman spasms of a man tortured to death. Forever in my brain I can hear those screams; they’re the inhuman sounds that haunt my nightmares. All the subjects end up dieing of shock. Their hearts simply stop beating. It's their salvation in a way I guess. I can't start imagining the torture that this must be. At first we didn't identify it as what it was but as we reviewed sensors and data it became obvious. The scream was just confirmation. I am serious I have never heard such a sound come out of any other human for as long as I have lived. It is truly frightening.
It is obvious that the last subject is feeling nervous. We are monsters. We just finished isolating the actual precise level of stimuli required to set off the reaction that we have observed in the 4 previous patients. We have become quite good at setting it off and we have created a special device that we will test on the next patient. The device picked the interest of the ministry of defense and they have sent a team to witness our next test. Next to me right now are General Carter and lieutenant Davenfree and a few scientists whose names I forgot. Behind me are also my co-workers who are just as excited about this test as I am. Were it to prove successful then our funding problems would be a thing of the past. This would secure our research for the rest of our lives. It was so important yet I couldn’t help but think. We are monsters.
The subject is strapped to a vertically positioned table to ensure that we see the full extent of the reaction. If only he knew what was to come he wouldn't be standing there with that submissive look. He would panicking but he seems to have accepted death however, what was coming was far worst then any death. It was all deaths combined in one instant. The device in itself was pretty simple and what it did was basically send electromagnetic signals through the air at a specific frequency. Basically it was an electrical impulse gun. The impulse was actually too small to be felt but if positioned right and tweaked a bit to make sure it hit the right part of the brain it could cause the reaction we were looking for at a distance.
It wasn't a bacteriological weapon, it wasn't a nuclear weapon but in a way I couldn't help but think of these as I made the last preparations. The subject looked straight into my eyes and I looked back. This man's suffering was my eternal salvation and I was as calm as ever but deep inside I was thinking of Robert J. Oppenheimer: "I am become death, the destroyer of worlds." For the test the device was slightly more complicated then it needed to be. It would have been easy to make it work in a device shaped like a gun or placed in something like a bomb.
Everything was now ready and the countdown was starting, the countdown to the next level of warfare, to the next level of pain, to my economic security. Funny how those 3 things came to me at the same time and funny how personal gratification and security always seems to outweigh the rest when push comes to shove. Maybe I'm just a little man, maybe others wouldn't have continued this but I have accepted my decision and am ready to live by it. I am a monster.
10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1...0. not a sound was made by the device. Nothing exited the extremity that was now facing the victim. It was odorless, invisible and soundless. However, the unbearable scream and twisted facial features were unmistakable. It was like getting stabbed by a ghost, but stabbed for ever and ever. The military personal were obviously impressed and were already talking about the possibilities of such a weapon and then the fatal words were thrown my way: "Can it be made into a bomb?"
And this is when I realized the true nature of humanity. Here I am thinking of all these dreadful things. Here we all are and we have just witnessed a man literally tortured to insanity and to death. Here we are and have witnessed literally the most painful way of dieing ever conceived and the first thought addressed about it was could it affect people on a larger scale? And here is the sad reality confirmed by my immediate answer: "Of course, it would actually be real easy."
"Good..." In essence we are pretty pathetic aren't we? But what could be expected. We are monsters.
November 20th 2012
The American and Russian governments were particularly keen on our new technology. The Americans saw it as a salvation to their ongoing futile war efforts while the Russian's new president Vokenkov who brought back to memory feelings of the USSR and the cold war seemed interested in anything that had some form of military use.
Traditionally pain was put into two categories then measured on a scale from 1-10. Acute pain is generally easy to deal with and fix. It is the direct result of a certain part of your body being damaged and is cured when you’re cured. Pain killers are also very effective against this kind of pain. Chronic pain on the other hand is a lot more problematic. Often affecting the spinal cord or directly the brain, chronic pain is hard to localize and is often unaffected by pain killers. It is often a symptom of fatal diseases and usually lasts for long periods of time. Due to the new intensity reached through our experiences it was believed that not only a name was needed to signify this extreme level of pain but actual terms needed to be associated with the whole process.
The first part of our experiments to receive a name was what we codenamed "pain memory." As previously mentioned what we referred to as "pain memory" was an actual physical part of any human brain. To refer to it as a memory takes away its tangible reality. Due to the team effort required for this discovery a general name not including individual names was needed. I came up with what became the official name: Nociceptor Recollection Lobe or NRL for short. Secondly, experiments on pain made us realize very quickly that on 10 this new pain was at least 10 times worst then anything imaginable. Therefore, it couldn’t be characterized with traditional terms. Even the term chronic pain didn't reflect the nature of this new pain being neither long term nor a symptom. A new type of pain had to be created. The third level of pain was called Cruciamortis from the Latin for torture and for death.
What we had originally observed as the interaction between the NRL and the electronic pulse now called the LFD (low frequency discharge) was a fluke. It was unrealistic to believe such a tiny discharge could actually reach the inner reaches of the brain to stimulate the NRL. What was observed when the LFD hit the brain was probably one of the most powerful stimuli chain reactions ever observed. To say the brain goes crazy would be an understatement. Whether this chain reaction is the direct result for the NRL release or if the chain reaction is really just a symptom is still unknown. The LFD is an unusual electric pulse closer to static then electricity. It is luckily not found in natural form.
One of the biggest changes since our tremendous increase in funding was the urgency to find tangible uses and upgrades to the whole project. Research often faces such obligations however, it is new for me due to the fact that my whole life I studied pain as a stimuli-induced experience and not something concrete in any way that could have any tangible use. The first obvious use was torture. I'm not going to justify myself in any way, I can't really look back anymore so what's the point in avoiding the blunt reality. Death to Cruciamortis levels of pain are a certainty and are usually a result of extreme shock which causes a severe and fatal heart attack. Now here is the "interesting" part.
When in a specialized setting like for example a hospital or a lab, reanimations due to shock-induced heart attacks are possible with the use of adrenaline and shock treatments. Therefore, a person could in theory suffer from Cruciamortis and be brought back to life. The extent of a person's sanity and memory or just general brain functions after such an experience is impossible to know for certain just yet however, research will definitely be heading in that direction soon. Prisoners from Guantanamo bay should be arriving shortly. I wonder what these people did to be placed under my care however, I can safely assure that my research is 10 times worst then anything they could have done. Funny eh? They are going to be tortured to death while I carry on, filthy rich. Very funny.
Another interesting thing that we researched was the effect of LFD on CIP (congenital insensitivity to pain) patients. The fact that they can't feel pain at all is a result that the stimulus never reaches the brain. It is the reason why for example these subjects can still develop chronic brain pain. The interesting factor actually is that these people have never felt pain. Their NRL is like a clean slate, it is completely empty. As a result it was theorized that they could not experience Cruciamortis level of pain. However, due to the scarcity of this condition actual testing is near impossible. Also most scientists in my group believe that it is a minority that we can afford to ignore. I'm pretty sure our superiors don't think the same way and this research could bring us to a more interesting discovery.
This is what I am working day in and day out to perfect. What I believe to be the most important aspect of the NRL right now, control. Currently it is completely out of our control. It reacts how it's supposed to work due to a series of chain reactions however, in essence we do not control it. It's as if we decide to start-up a nuclear chain reaction in an uncontrolled environment, no matter how much we say we understand the principles and how it works it's still out of our control. We can't do anything with something so volatile. Like fire we must master it. What I want to be able to do is inscribe things into the NRL, potentially being able to affect CIP patients. I also want to be able to control the intensity of the NRL release. Being able to surgically implant a chip to activate the NRL on command would also be a useful thing to develop. Our research is just starting and the world can just sit and tremble as we come ever closer to torture in its purest and scariest form. It might be paranoia but I’m seeing shadows of the apocalypse at every corner. Work ethics have always been a dilemma in my field but I believe we are starting to transcend ethics and slowly stepping into something much bigger, much worst.
A new specialist was called to join our team. He’s the first scientist to be added to our team since we discovered the NRL. He is a Canadian specialist on nanotechnology. Apparently nanotechnology is the answer to most of my questions and I'm anxious to see what this guy has to offer. I have quickly reviewed nanotechnology's potential in diverse scientific papers and even though it has great potential for the future I doubt right now it is ready to work in such a complex environment as ours. However, the higher ups assured me that the true underground science is a lot ahead of what the science papers say. If the higher ups aren't exaggerating then the possibility of what we have created might bypass even that of the nuclear bomb. What kind of world is this that the nuclear bomb isn’t a weapon formidable enough? Where will this quest for warfare end? Maybe those questions would make more sense coming from someone other then the lead scientist of the project in question.
If nanobots are as advanced as they say then a quick distribution in a large waterway could get these tiny robots into millions of people in matters of days. Then a simultaneous activation of the LFD could wipe out millions without leaving a trace or showing blame. I don't know what my colleagues are thinking about all this and to be honest I have a feeling despite their great intelligence that they are very narrow minded and don't see the bigger picture. Can they be blamed for their naïve nature? Honestly who am I to judge? You can start calling me the Reaper; it's too late to stop me now.
We noticed something pretty interesting during our research. It wasn't an observation as much as it was a theory. We started thinking about torture using LFD and NRL release when a Russian colleague of mine pointed out an interesting fact. What if you had a NRL release but were reanimated. Would that pain also be remembered by the NRL? That was a very interesting question actually. We lack sufficient information to answer that question though. A bit like we don't have enough information to know if chronic pain is also felt during cruciamortis or if the pain is just an accumulation of acute pains felt through nociceptor responses. We also don't know the role of nociceptors in the whole process.
There are so many things we don't know but it comes from being unable to really test much without suitable subjects. Vokenkov came personally to our lab yesterday. He’s quite an impressive fellow however, I can't help but feel the ghosts of the cold war and of the old Soviet Union every time he breathes or speaks. It's as if his entire body resonated with the old passion of the red army. The fact that he goes around with an old general’s vest doesn't help the feeling at all. I'm starting to wonder if this new president's involvement in this project could worsen an already volatile situation. Most probably, but it isn't my job to ask these questions anymore. I just do what I'm told I guess. It just makes what I do a lot easier.
November 30th 2012
The Canadian scientist arrived a few days ago. He's a real character that man. Gregory Litwich is his name. He wasn't originally Canadian but he doesn't like to talk about himself so we usually don't start pointless chatter with him. He’s a genius in his field but God do we have a hard time with the fellow. At times we are sure he suffers from a bipolar condition, its nuts. However, a few days with him has already got me excited and at the same time scared about the prospect of mixing nanotechnology with our work. Indeed what Gregory has brought to the table seems 10 years in advance of what I had read about. It's quite surprising what these tiny robots can do. With what I have seen these nanobots do I wouldn't be surprised if they could be used to cure cancer. What is he doing here? The man has mankind’s salvation at his fingertips and here he is thrown to speed-up Armageddon. I don’t understand. Actually I understand perfectly and that’s what scares me the most.
The next day was very interesting. We received a group of prisoners with armed guards. Normally there were guards outside our facility but they stayed out of the actual facility. But now guards patrol everywhere, it's quite annoying. I have the feeling that at any time they could be ordered to kill me and they wouldn't hesitate a living second but why would they? I’m the biggest evil to have hit the earth since Satan himself. There are a dozen prisoners in total with a promise for much more if we need more. With them also came more equipment that was greatly needed.
The most interesting factor was subject A13. He was brought in after the prisoners and right away I figured out we had hit a gold mine. We needed a clean slate, a control group to test our experiments but no one has never felt pain and could be used as such a control group however, this patient was the answer. I noticed it when he stepped bare foot on a nail that had been lying around. He didn't flinch at all. He was a CIP patient. It was marvelous.
We created a device that calculates brain responses during Cruciamortis. During the release everything is sent out at an extremely rapid rate and it’s hard to calculate but with a very precise machine we have managed to isolate different types of pain to observe exactly what pains the dieing patient suffered during his life and basically in what order. The computer analyzes the responses and creates a basic output that can be followed. From the tiniest prickle to the bone shatters I can see it all. It’s surprising how easily I can re-trace a person’s life based solely on their pain. How important are good times if all I need to re-trace your steps on this world is the history of your pain? I find its pretty representative of life. Life is pain, there’s nothing more to it.
Now that we have everything we need we are ready for a very good month. Our first question was if chronic pain was stored in the NRL. We infected patient A1 with Lyme's disease and let it degenerate into chronic Lyme disease. He experienced severe Meningoencephalitis and was put through incredible pain. Soon after we nerolized (nerolization became the term used to represent the process of stimulating the NRL. Comes from pronouncing NRL with vowels) patient A1 and noticed that indeed chronic pain was felt during the nerolization process. It was obviously due to the fact that there was little difference to the brain between acute and chronic pain when it came to analyzing it. Not only that but the presence of nociceptors in the brain made it pretty obvious that it would react this way. The confirmation was a nice change though.
The next test we did was to nerolize patient A13. As expected the patient reacted negatively to the treatment. He was completely unaffected. This result combined with our previous test made us wonder about the role of nociceptor in the nerolization process. If we could make a patient whose nociceptors weren't present feel neuropathic pain (which is the disease of pain. It is pain without a stimulus. It is basically when the brain interprets pain due to nerve tissue damage) then we would be able to find a way to affect CIP patients as well. However, considering there are only 60 documented cases of CIP in the US and considering the irreversible damage we would need to cause to patient A13 we decided to wait. Patient A13 was way too useful for now. But eventually we would test that theory. It’s not rare for scientists to see their test subjects as mere instruments in their research. However, this is just something else. The readiness and unanimity in which the higher ups and us scientists put these people through inhuman torture is truly staggering. Such readiness to cause pain has probably never been seen since Mengele. Move aside Mengele, I am the new angel of death and I dare all to dethrone me.
The next thing we are going to try to do is add information to the NRL by creating false nociceptor reactions using nanobots. By making the brain believe that there is pain somewhere we can add pain to the NRL even though there is no actual pain. Also CIP patients who have no nociceptor would still react to this treatment. So we are probably going to slowly add more and more pain to his NRL so we can gauge levels and check the effectiveness of our treatment. Another thing we want to perfect is being able to clear the NRL of past pain. This would be for testing purposes but also to immune people against nerolization. This however, is going to take a lot of testing due to the complexity of this part of the brain.
Things are moving so fast. This new technology could do so much good but the only reason it is moving so fast is for the wrong reasons. Like I keep saying in essence we are monsters. We are capable of the worst and often with very little incentive. I really dread what the future has in store but like Einstein said: "I don't know what world war 3 will be fought with but world war 4 will be fought with stick and stones." However, I know what world war 3 will be fought with. I know, I created it.
December 4th 2012
We all know the saying that money makes the earth go round however; it's truly bone chilling to see it in practice sometimes. We were about to conduct some experiments on the principles of Pain Adaptation; the concept by which pain is lessened by an increased presence in the NRL. Basically creating useful pain killers against diseases that don't have any and/or in situations where traditional pain killers are not administrable. It was Vokenkov himself that came up to me and told me to stop what I was doing. I was very subtly told that what I was doing was not helping his situation at all and that I should resume my real research, the real reason I was paid.
I always thought no matter how horrific some break-through in science can be that in the end they all had positive repercussions at some point. The nuclear bomb became a huge advancement in understanding atomic particles and nuclear energy is considered by many to be the energy source of tomorrow. However, the research we are conducting here seems to be doomed to produce only negative outputs. Every time we try to create something helpful out of our discoveries we get very subtly discouraged by our main sponsors and are passively forced to resume our horrible experiments and studies. I’m not really surprised since I’m not stupid enough to have fooled myself that we were making anything other then a weapon but I still believed that maybe, just maybe, in the process we could do something, anything, good.
I must admit I am losing touch with human suffering. Seriously what is a brain tumor compared to seeing the twisted face of somebody experiencing Cruciamortis levels of pain. I don't think I'll ever be able to look with pity at a suffering man again. 2 more patients died due to our experiments but we are slowly getting a better understanding of the NRL and how to control it. Apparently when the brain processes information brought by the nociceptors it goes up the brain stem and into the brain. Once there it goes directly to the NRL. Then a quick check of the NRL tells the nociceptor if the pain was already felt and how it felt.
If the brain already dealt with a similar pain it immediately sends endorphins depending on the degree of pain and then analyzes the pain and deals with it appropriately. However, if the NRL contains no information on the pain brought in by the nociceptor then the brain processes the information and makes you feel the blunt force of the pain. Endorphins are usually released after when the pain is at its worst. During the sensation process the NRL becomes inscribed with the sensorial information for that specific pain for times to come. Obviously we are still unsure of the details and the actual precise degrees in which the brain interprets pain but we have done quite extensive advancements.
Another thing that is both good and bad is the use of these nanobots. Gregory has proved to understand our technology and principles very quickly. The man is obviously a genius however, he reminds me dangerously of a madman in one of those old Hollywood flicks. His latest invention, a nanobot that in theory can analyze the NRL by mimicking a nociceptor coming in with information. The nanobot can then keep in memory the information before going back down the body and recovered in the urine. The nanobot could then be inserted in a person's NRL and in theory could transcribe the information in memory to the NRL. The only problem is that we still have no idea how the information is engraved on the NRL and I find Gregory is going slightly too fast without much information to back-up his silly claims.
Well I'll be damned. I don't know how he did it but the proof is there. He managed to take a person's NRL information and add it to another person's NRL. It is truly fascinating. Just like that he has literally doubled a person's pain library for both good and bad. The obvious next test will be to try it on our CIP patient but that can wait, the impressive results seen today are sufficient for now. This makes 3 patients dead but when you think about it they weren't much better off in Guantanamo Bay. That’s an obvious lie but even I have to fool myself a bit sometimes. Hopefully they think these experiments are for the greater good. If they knew the truth to why they were being tortured I think they'd kill themselves, but wait…we are doing it for them, ironic eh?
I have started to notice tensions between both our main sponsors. Maybe having both of them part of the project at the same time was a bad idea. They often disagree on the course of action and this political tug of war is becoming really tiresome. Surprisingly the Americans are the ones playing it safe for now. They are usually more conservative on our experiments and don't mind if a little good can come out of our experiments if it can serve as justification in the future. Vokenkov on the other hand is looking for military practicality above all else and he puts a lot of pressure on us. It’s obvious he dislikes the Americans and he always seems to be muttering under his breath. Let’s just say I wouldn't want to have him pointing a gun at me. Ironically though, I can see it happening.
December 8th 2012
The tension is really building. The war isn't faring any better for the United States and the newly formed Russian party is exerting a lot of pressure towards military technologies. Both countries fear one another's weapons and they can both feel that the control of the nerolization technology is vital to imposing their dominance over the other country. The tension is felt all around the world but the true extent of everything happening underground is obviously unknown. If only they knew...
Things seemed to have slowed down the past couple of days even weeks but now things definitely have picked up again. With sudden deadlines marking the calendar me and my colleagues all have to work very long days to complete all the tasks at hand. 5 more prisoners in 2 days were killed in experiments. Considering we killed 3 in about 3 weeks you can see how quickly things are moving. The only one that doesn't seem rushed and always seems to be on break is Gregory. For some odd reason you can always see him wandering aimlessly around the facility yet he always seems to be a step ahead of us. Does the guy sleep for Christ sake?
Post by ELIZA MARIE CUNNINGHAM on Sept 4, 2008 1:14:12 GMT -5
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If you hit the jump at this speed and angle… That’s all that could go through the mind of seventeen year old Sean Zenovitch as he sat impatiently in his eleventh grade math class. The teacher at the front was carrying on about obtuse angles or something but Sean wasn’t there. He was looking out the window by his desk, watching the fresh snow fall from the sky. According to the radio, Sima was going to be open the next day, the first day of Christmas holidays and nothing was going to stop the little daredevil from hitting the slopes with his buddies. “Sean! Answer the question.” He jumped as the girl behind him hissed in his ear and became uncomfortably aware that there were about nineteen pairs of eyes on him, including the teachers. “Uh, forty-five?” He wasn’t even sure what the question was but assumed, that when working with slopes and angles, even if it had a circle in it, forty five would be a safe answer. “Thank you Sean, maybe next time you wont just guess on an answer though.” The teachers voice came out dry and dull, the whole reason he zoned out so much in math. There was nothing there to hold his attention. Relaxing a bit in his chair though, having given the right answer, he smiled and looked back out the window. Yes sir, this Christmas was going to be good. He’d get the new board he wanted and he’d hit the summit every day he could. Buzzzzzzzz!!! And they’re off! The students of the fourth period Math eleven class jumped up from their seats ready to start their holidays and escape, temporarily from the oh so lovely, F.H. Collins Senior Secondary. Finally! Reaching into his pocket, Sean was readying to pull it out in the halls and start mass texting when came the voice of an unimpressed teacher.
“Sean.” That’s all it took and the eleventh grader knew he was getting a lecture. Damn it!! Didn’t Powers know he had better things to do than listen to a lame lecture about how he needed to pay attention more in class. After all, he did good in the class. He had a ‘B’ average and did the work even if he slept in class, what more did this guy want from him. “Sean, you’re a bright kid. You really shouldn’t be throwing your life away like this. I want you to work on this over the holidays. I think you should be bumped ahead in math next semester. Take both math eleven and twelve this year. This will prove if you can handle that. I want everything done for when we get back, sound good?” The goofy man looked at him from behind the glasses he didn’t normally wear and Sean just nodded, taking the book but having no plans to touch it during the holidays. After all, snowboarding, right now, was much more important. Exiting the class, Sean pulled out his cell phone, hit three buttons and was well on his way to planning the next two weeks… or so he’d hoped.
Yo! This is Alex, I’m probably out boarding right now so leave a message and I’ll call you back. PEACE NoERS! Well shit. A frown crossed Sean’s face at the message. He couldn’t already be out at the hill. Could he? Stopping in the middle of the hall, he dialled his friends home number, letting it ring. Same deal, You’ve reached The Roberts Family, we can’t come to the phone at the moment, leave your name and number and we’ll get back to you when we can. Thanks. No!!!!! Kicking the closest locker, Sean frowned more. Well what the hell?! Alex had told him that his family wasn’t going anywhere that winter. Whatever, he’d go check it out later, first, he had to ditch his bag at home… or better yet, check it out on his way home. Pushing past the kids that had walked into him when he’d stopped, Sean stepped out into the sunlight and tugged on his bag and started on his way home. Crossing the road and cutting through the trees, Sean made his way down Teslin Road, past Alex’s house, and sure enough, the family was gone. “Bastard.” He muttered before jogging the rest of the way home. It was warm out for December. Only about -17C and sunny, making it feel warmer. Perfect day for the hill.
Reaching his house on Hart Crest. Sean headed straight for his basement room, avoiding his mother who was home early that afternoon. He needed to try and figure out what was going on. Alex was gone, or appeared to be gone and so far everyone else was busy helping parents around the house before they all took off for the hills to go boarding. Growling a bit, he hit play on the stereo his parents had gotten him for his twelfth birthday so long ago. Throwing the black and gray backpack into the opposite corner, the dark haired boy flopped backwards onto the bed against the far wall. After a little whirring, thunderous music started as the mixed C.D he’d thrown in the day before picked up with Disturbed. With one socked foot hanging over the edge of his bed, Sean tapped it to the beat a bit as he drifted in and out of thought with what he could do. Tyler, Luke and James were all at work he knew, so he couldn’t go bug them for rides out to Sima, his dad was at work so he couldn’t take the truck and sled. Grabbing a nearby book, he threw it across the room. “No!” He cried out in anger at the fact that he couldn’t do anything he wanted to on such a nice day. “Sean honey? Are you home?” The sound of his mothers voice floated gently, just perfectly over the music that thundered in his room and he sighed. His plan was, go until dinner without seeing anyone and being put to work, eat, then figure out what he could do for his two week break. “Sean, can you come give me a hand with something please.” His mother called again and he sighed, once more. Pushing himself off the other wise broken mattress, he padded his way upstairs to his mothers kitchen. Sean rarely entered the kitchen when he knew his mother was busy in there, his dad too. Both guys knew the trouble they’d be in if they ever got in her way when she was busy in ‘her’ kitchen. “Ah there you are, I need you to grab the seasoning salt from the top cupboard. I don’t know why your father put it there but he did. How was school?” Sean couldn’t help but chuckle and smile as his mother directed him around. She was short, probably about 5’3 to his 5’8 but boy, she could pack a world of hurt if he did wrong by her.
“You couldn’t just get a chair or the stool?” He asked, a cheeky smile on his face as he walked up beside his shorter mother and reached up, grabbing the bottle from the top shelf with an oof as his mother whapped him in the gut with the back of her hand at short range. Grinning a bit though, he rubbed where she hit him and handed her the Seasoning Salts. “Guess not. School was alright. Glad to be a year and a half away from graduation I’ll tell you that. Powers is on some crazy trip where he thinks I should take math twelve next semester and everything.” He shook his head, his dark hair bouncing a little due to the wings he had going. Of course, the seventeen year old boy was sure his mother would agree with his math teacher, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, math didn’t interest Sean and he was still young. He wanted to enjoy life and the stupid stunts that he did. Leaning against the counter, his bright blue eyes watched his mother move here and there, making something big for dinner. He assumed probably steaks and something or spaghetti, though he wasn’t really sure.
“You should take Mr. Powers’ advice. Enough gallivanting around with the others and chasing girls. This year and your last year, you should really buckle down and work hard so you can get into a good post secondary school.” At this, the boy rolled his eyes. He saw that coming. “And don’t roll your eyes at me Sean Michael.” She said, a stern warning in her voice. “I really think its time you just settled down for a bit and focused on your studies. Instead of running out every chance you got, taking the truck and disappearing for days.” She turned to look at him, fork in hand. “Which is why I’m glad Alex is gone for the holidays. Now you don’t have a reason to go running off at all hours of the night and making me worry so much.” Sean wondered if she knew how wrong she really was. Even with Alex gone, he had plenty of other reasons to go off whenever during the holidays. He had lots of friends and there were tons of parties for him to attend. Why wouldn’t he go out and have fun, even with his best pal out of town?
Pushing away from the counter, Sean began to pace in his mothers kitchen. “I’m not ‘gallivanting’ as you so put it, when I’m out having fun with my friends. I’m being a typical teenage guy.” He said defensively. He knew she was going to get like that. “And I’m not rolling my eyes at you, I’m rolling my eyes at the fact that you think I’m wasting my time. I would have thought that you, being my mother, would have shown me a little more support for something that I love.” He shrugged though, uncaringly as he headed back towards the stairs to the basement of the house. “And I don’t need Alex to make me want to go out at night either. Its Christmas holidays, I’m allowed to hang out with friends and say to hell with my studies.” He pointed out, before taking the small flight down and slamming the door to his room before locking the door. Parents! They didn’t understand anything! It was like they forgot what it was like to be teens and it pissed Sean off. Hitting stop on the C.D player, he took the C.D out and put it with the others before looking for another one. Flipping through the disc’s, he finally decided on one. Grabbing it from the rest of them, he carried it back to the stereo and put it on. Hitting play again, the room was filled with the sound of Papa Roach and he went back to laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling, bored out of his mind. He needed something… a car, or a girlfriend, or SOMETHING to get him out of the house.
As if on cue, Sean’s cell phone started to ring. The sound of ‘Whole lotta Love’ floated through the air, causing the young, very bored to jump at the unexpected ringing. Glancing quickly at the caller id, he answered. The number displayed was vaguely familiar, as was the ring tone used but he couldn’t remember to whom it belonged to. Obviously no one he talked to daily, other wise it wouldn’t be an issue. However, he answered though phone, though sounded a little unsure of himself. “Hello?” He sat up a bit, waiting for the voice on the other end to respond, all the while, trying to figure out who the number belonged to. It was local, but nothing was clicking. Well, at least not until the very feminine and also very, very angry voice answered his hello. Then, all those wonderful memories came flooding back, making him cringe.
“ ‘Hello?’ That’s all I get, is an unsure hello?!” The girl nearly shouted over the phone waves. “It hasn’t even been four months and I’d be willing to be you don’t even know who you’re talking to!” She was furious, the girl on the other end of the line and Sean was no fool to think that a simple apology would fix things with this girl. Of course, he was going to wait until her tirade was over before opening his mouth to save himself from more angry yelling. In the background, he thought he could hear someone else trying to calm her down, to which she replied, “No! I will NOT calm down! I have every right to be mad at the son of a bitch!” Causing Sean to frown and cringe at the same time. What the bloody hell had he done to piss her off so much. Sighing a bit, he decided he should probably step in, to make her stop screaming at the very least. “Kisha chill.” His voice, smoother, more normal now that he knew who he was dealing with, just by the sound of her screaming. And of course, like he thought, she calmed down. In fact, she was dumb-founded that he remembered her name and he could tell by the sudden pause. A small smile crossed his face. Of course, if Kisha was calling him, then that meant one thing. She was back in town and ready to cause some trouble… either that or she just wanted to yell at him for God knows what reason.
Finally, she decided to speak again though, “Four months. Four months Sean and you don’t call, you don’t email me, you don’t answer my text messages…. What the No is wrong with you?!” Her second sudden outburst caught him off guard and caused him to fall backwards in surprise on the broken mattress, holding the phone away from his ear so Kisha couldn’t bust the ear drum. He frowned. She knew he didn’t do texting and so what if he hadn’t actually called? He figured she’d be busy with school and new guys in her new town so he hadn’t bothered. Besides, they hadn’t been that close when she left… well, close enough that he had slept with her once or twice, but so what? “What’s wrong Sean? Cat got your tongue?” She taunted, rather maliciously.
Rolling his eyes, Sean sighed heavily. “Damn it Kisha CHILL a minute.” His voice coming out exasperated. “Yeah ok, I didn’t call or write and you know I don’t do the text stuff, so what?! I promised your brother I wouldn’t so that ya’ll could MOVE ON with your lives.” He said, emphasizing the move on part. “I’m sorry, alright? Is that what you want? Me to apologize? My God you’re a crazy girl.” He sighed, moving so his back was supported by the wall his bed was against. “You know, I almost missed you until you started bitching at me for something so stupid as that.” Keeping his voice calm, he wasn’t about to let a sixteen year old push him around, let alone his best friends little sister. “So unless you’re going to calm down and talk to me instead of scream, I suggest you either put your brother on the line or hang up Kisha.” He must have stunned her because for what seemed like a life time, there was nothing but dead air on the other end.
“I’m sorry Sean. It’s just… I’ve had a rough time adjusting to the city ya know?” Her voice much softer this time, making Sean feel a bit guilty about snapping like he had but shit. She couldn’t just freak like that on him. Andy had left him with specific instructions not to talk to Kisha while they were in the city, in case it made her go off again. Though him and Andy were good friends, and Andy’s parents didn’t mind it, they didn’t want their daughter getting into the same trouble and having the same type of crowd around her. They felt it would be bad for their ‘perfect’ little girl. “I know Andy told you to ignore me but I didn’t think you would… I know if it had been my parents you would have disregarded …”
“I respect your brother more than your parents Kisha. He’s the one that took me in, your parents just shrugged me off which was fine but they never showed me any respect so I didn’t show them any. Simple as that.” He cut her off. Why wouldn’t he have listened to his best friend? Andy just wanted to protect Kisha after all. “Besides, a girl like you should be busy with her school work, not worrying about a punk nobody like me.” He continued, wondering if his mother could hear him. Sean knew that’s what a lot of people thought of him, because he’d rather be out on a board or dancing then doing school work. “I’m guessing you guys are in town for the holidays then if you’re calling me.” Knowing the answer already was yes if she wasn’t being asked a million questions about who she was talking to. “Afraid to come by the house in case I have a lady friend over?” He teased sitting up a little more at the memory, wanting to see if she’d giggle or tell him to leave that thought alone.
The words that followed started with a scoff. “Me? Busy with school work? Sean have you lost your mind??” She asked, laughing lightly. “When have you ever known me to be busy with school work? You’ve known me since I was a BABY for Christ sake.” She said, the laughter still evident in her voice and it made Sean smile. That was true. His family and hers had been close since their parents were kids, so when Andy and Kisha’s family had moved first, it had devastated all the kids. Thankfully, a few years later, Sean’s family followed and Andy had taken Sean under his wing again, with Andy being two years older than Sean. “Nah, not really busy, though Andy says I gotta pick up my studies before he’ll take me up the Summit.” She said with a sigh. “But anyways, enough of about school. You’re not a punk nobody. You could be doing something with your life if you wanted to aside from being a punk. But you’re not. Simple as that.” Kisha’s voice almost soothed away the idea that he really was a punk ass no body with no future in anything. “And no, I wasn’t afraid of swinging by and finding you with a lady friend. I’ve decided that is to be expected of a boy who’s life is centered around extreme sports and sex.” Her voice becoming plain and uncaring as she teased him.
As Kisha drilled him about her school work, he smiled more. He knew her alright. She was the kind of girl that had passed up several opportunities to go to the Summit or to Sima to get ahead in her work, never mind catch up on it. Of course, when she did go, she was going twenty five hours a day, up and down the hills. It was like a secret passion to be better than her brother, and all the guys had noticed it and out of them all, aside from Andy, Sean was the only one that ever gave Kisha a hard time about it. Not that she let him get away with it though. She always got him with the snow… or just really cold water from the river if they were at the skate park. “Yeah, you’re right Kisha, what was I thinking. OF COURSE you were busy with school work. You probably had the semesters work load done by October.” He teased, though knowing her and how organized she was, it wouldn’t have surprised him to find out about that. He frowned though when she said something about picking up her marks. “You’re not slacking off NOW are you Kisha? When I’m not there to distract you.” Though his voice came of teasingly, he wouldn’t be too happy if she was. She was a brilliant young woman that would go far as long as she kept up her studies. Hell, the whole time she’d been attending F.H, she’d been an honour roll student, so for her to tell him she’d fallen from that, wouldn’t be impressive. When she talked about him not being just some punk though, he sighed. She was right, if he wanted to be doing something ‘important’ with his life, he could, and he would if he felt it was necessary, but right now, his major concerns were work, school and boarding…. Speaking of work, he’d have to phone and see when he worked next. “You know, you almost sound like my mother, only saying I’m not a punk ass nobody.” He mused out loud then chuckled at her thoughts about him and his life. Centered around extreme sports and sex… he probably should agree, but decided against it. “That’s not true. Its not completely centered around extreme sports and sex. I gotta make money still and sleep and eat. So there’s a few detours in there as well.” He countered, a victorious smugness to his voice that made the girl on the other end of the line scoff. “Don’t scoff little girl. Its true. I gotta eat and sleep so I have energy to continue with my two main life sources… and having money helps with them both too.” He explained, in a rather simple manner. Ah how he’d missed picking on Kisha… and missed being picked on. Granted, he’d forgotten the ring tone he’d set for her, but it didn’t mean he didn’t miss her… right? And he really had a hard time finding someone that felt as good in bed as she did, at least to him. He wondered if she’d slept with any other guys while she’d been away, but decided that over the phone wasn’t the best time to ask, especially with her family in the background. They already grumbled about HIS lifestyle (and Andy’s) and how ‘freely’ they gave themselves away to the floosies as Andy’s mom called them, so for her to find out her daughter was one of the ‘floosies’ Sean was with, wouldn’t settle well. He cringed at the thought, momentarily forgetting he was on the phone. He could see it now, Kisha and Andy’s mom chasing him, trying to castrate him with a rusty knife… it made his insides do flip-flops.
“… Sean? Sean are you still there?” Kisha’s voice pulled him out of his day-mare though and made him jump a bit. “Huh? Oh yeah Kisha, I’m still here. Sorry, I missed what you said.” His voice coming out sheepishly and he could feel his cheeks burn a bit. It wasn’t like him to zone out while on the phone like that, but with thoughts like being chased by a crazed woman wielding a rusty knife could do that to someone. “I was saying, before you zoned out, I’m doing fine in school, Andy just wants me to get A’s instead of B’s… and one C+” She repeated, lazily, though she was a little taken aback when Sean scoffed at her. “A C+? Since when do YOU get a C+??” He almost seemed to laugh into the mouth piece of the Samsung phone. The way he reacted made Kisha quite angry. He was laughing because the brainiac of the group had gotten a C+. “You know what Sean, maybe it was a mistake calling you. I always thought you supported me, but I guess that was just to get me into bed with you.” She snapped, “Well you know what, No you too!” With that, she slammed the phone down on his ear, making him wince as the sound of static and dead air filled his ear. What the hell was her problem? Shrugging it off, he went back to laying on his bed, listening to the music that had changed without his notice. Maybe now would be a good time for a nap…
Post by ELIZA MARIE CUNNINGHAM on Sept 4, 2008 1:14:55 GMT -5
C
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No matter how many blankets I pulled around myself or how many sweaters I wore, I was cold. It was the sort of cold that bore into your very soul, your heart, your every bone. It was the sort of cold that didn’t go away.
As I start there in my comfortable brown chair, I pulled my legs up towards me and hugged them under the blanket. It was useless. There was no defeating the cold that surrounded me. But at least I tried.
I thought about what it would be like if I was in the Bahamas or somewhere else warm. Would I still be this cold? But I knew that it wasn’t Canada’s cold climate that made the shivers down my spine make my body shudder entirely. It was the emptiness I felt inside, the emptiness that would only be cured if I could have one thing back. Love.
I narrowed my eyes at the mere thought of the word. Love. There was no more love in me than my old shoes under the stairs—They had been neglected for a couple of years now. Love wasn’t something that defined me anymore. I was out of love. Yet also… I was in it. I was obsessed with the idea of what I had lost and attempting to get back. But I knew that it was hopeless. He was never returning and I would never again feel the love I had when he was around.
Yes, that part of me was long gone. But what was I now?
I was… A nuissance. A zombie. There was nothing left for me now in any form of daily activity. Nothing held my interest and nothing made me happy anymore. I was a living zombie, other than the brain eating part, doomed to walk the earth until I could finally find what made me happy again. But no where on this earth would I find my happiness. I had given my heart away years ago and now it was gone… Gone wherever he had taken it.
I honestly don’t know where it was or where he was, for that matter. Where did people go after life anyway? Well, that was question that was too complicated to answer. There were many people all over the world who had their own theories. I wasn’t about to add to one myself. All I knew was that it wasn’t here and that it was a place far, far away. That was all that mattered anyway. The fact that he wasn’t here and that he was unreachable was enough to drive stakes through my heart every time I thought of him… which was very often.
I’d see a red car and think of him. I’d see a can of food and think of him. I’d even see the sidewalk under my feet and think of him. There were too many memories to deal with. I couldn’t go anywhere without being reminded of him in some way. May be if I locked myself up in solitary, there wouldn’t be anything to think of him at all. But I knew that even trapped in a white room, I’d find a way to be reminded of him somehow. Not to mention the fact that it was even worse when I didn’t have distractions to take my mind away from him… Even if they didn’t work most of the time. But if I was to sit in a room all by myself for God knows how long… My thoughts would drift to him faster than the time it takes someone to drown on a crowded beach.
The television was on.
I found the flicker and changed through the channels, my eyes barely even looking at what was in front of me. It was all boring and didn’t interest me at all. If he wasn’t on the TV, then it wasn’t interesting. Though I couldn’t see why he would be on it anyway.
Sighing, I turned off the TV and let the remote fall to the table beside me, my hand instantly going limp. I let it stay there for a few minutes, barely even having the energy to lift my hand again and place it back around my knees with my other hand.
This was pathetic.
I couldn’t even lift my hand, I was so upset! What would he say if he could see me now? Well, I knew that he wouldn’t be happy with the state I was now in, but that didn’t matter. If he wasn’t here to complain to me about how depressed I was getting, then it didn’t matter. If he could see me and tell me how disappointed he was, then that would be even better. May be I could catch his attention that way and he would somehow find a way to get back to me, even if it was just to yell at me about my current state. But that would be good enough for me.
I smirked at the thought of him coming back to see me, even if it wasn’t for a good reason. But it did sound like an awfully good plan.
But who was I kidding? Obviously he wouldn’t come back from the dead just to tell me that I was depressed. I knew I was depressed. He would know that I was depressed. And everyone around me knew I was depressed. They were just too afraid to say anything. No, my brilliant plan was stupid and impossible. And then… my most recent hope died.
I somehow found the energy to get up, letting my feet fall to the floor first. My hands pushed down on my thighs as I attempted to get up with all of the energy I had left—which wasn’t a lot.
I needed to eat.
Walking into the kitchen, I absentmindedly opened the first cupboard to the left, looking through the contents of the food I had. There wasn’t a lot. I hadn’t gone shopping for quite some time, but I wasn’t very hungry anyway.
Picking up a box of Chicken Noodle soup, I examined the sides of the box like it was some foreign object that I hadn’t seen before.
“Hm,” I said with a sigh, taking out the contents and filling the kettle with water. This was just a moment’s distraction, really, but at least it was something. I didn’t know what I would do afterwards, or how I’d feel about everything anymore, but at least I could do this. This was something.