Ghost

[Oblivionz]

Correct you are. It had me wondering what was up at the end. Can't wait for the next chapter, man.

 

Also,

 

brown, tattered dog lead

 

What's a dog lead?

[Rhoda]

Ah, darn these English/American vocabulary barriers. A dog lead is essentially a leash, something you use to keep your dog tethered.

[mark-2007]

Cool, an interesting chapter which - as you said - leaves me with a lot of questions. Keeps me waiting for the next chapter though

[Vercetti21]

Finally caught up on the three chapters I've missed.

 

I'm really enjoying this, and we need more horror stories around here. Other than a few minor grammatical errors I couldn't spot anything bad worth mentioning. The plot is interesting, but the character of the protagonist is what makes the story. Dark, emotionally scarred, and mad: a perfect mix for a psychotic freak.

 

Nice work. And apologies ahead of time if I'm slow to critique this in the future.

[Rhoda]

Ah, always good to see some comments, thanks for the positives! Grammar is certainly something I need to work on, after I've looked through my chapters I've realised simple mistakes. Thanks again!

[Oblivionz]

Sweet, man. Anticipating the next chapter.

[Rhoda]

This is the tell all chapter. I must admit, after writing this I'd wished I'd spent more time developing the earlier chapters and I feel like I could've wrote them a whole lot more structured and complex. Maybe someday I'll rewrite the whole story... anyway, I digress, chapter 4 is here.

 

***

 

Chapter IV - Puppet Strings

 

It had certainly been an interesting invitation. Ghost had not expected such a warm welcome from the man who would soon experience the harrowing pain of a pair of pale hands wrapped tightly around his windpipe. Ghost's fantasy soon faded when the weathered voice of Gorm rang out from the kitchen.

"Cup of tea?"

Ghost didn't reply straight away, and instead slowly approached a picture in the hallway. With a shallow swallow, he reached out and carefully stroked the faded image of a young girl playing with a doll. Without hesitation, Ghost then picked up the photograph carefully, clutching it like a mother would clutch her child.

"I'm a pretty girl... I'm a p-pretty girl!" Ghost echoed, monotonously.

Gorm seemed to take little notice, and instead went into his living room with a tray of tea and various biscuits carefully laid out. Ghost needed no beckoned, and hurried after Gorm, still clutching the picture to his chest. Ghost curiously glanced around the room, which had a bizarre array of technology and more traditional means of entertainment. Rocking chairs sat comfortably with the HD TV and the nice personoo clock complimented the Hi Fi which sat in the corner of the room.

"Please, take a seat..." Gorm gently held out his arm to the sofa adjacent to him, and went on. "I have a feeling I've a lot to explain to you, Chris."

"It's Ghost." his tone seemed to change from that of a small girl back to his usual voice, which now seemed like a chore after his imitation. Gorm listened intently, just like he used to back at the plant.

"Why Ghost, may I ask?" Gorm enquired in a soft tone, sipping his tea.

A long pause ensued, with not a sound coming from either of them. Ghost simply sat there, stroking the picture gingerly and twitching his leg up and down like he was operating a foot pump. Gorm had been able to take three long drains of his cup before Ghost answered.

"They call me Ghost. F*ck knows why." he then turned to Gorm to look straight at him, almost wishing to cause fear or intimidation.

"Who? Dare I ask!" Gorm replied with a chuckle, clearly unnerved by Ghost's presence.

"The voice." Ghost said, putting the picture down gently, being sure to run a finger down the glass but not leaving a mark. "I'd like to think it's because I'm always in the least desirable place, giving you a feeling of uneasiness and sheer cold that renders you incapable of any sense whatsoever."

Gorm simply listened, not taking his eyes of Ghost, though there was no eye contact. Ghost wouldn't meet Gorm's eyes.

"It's probably not that, wishful thinking at the end of it all, though a man can dream..."

Gorm broke the silence and laughed heartily, standing up and stroking his salt and pepper moustache.

"That's the thing isn't it, Chr-Ghost!" moving the picture back on the table. Ghost's eyes seemed to follow it's path, as if he longed to be in the picture with her. Maybe even be her. Not even Ghost knew.

"We all have dreams... hopes... ambitions!" Gorm went on, tone increasing.

It was at this that Ghost seemed to focus once again. He had remembered why he had chosen to visit Gorm, and it wasn't a pleasant house visit. At this, Ghost's fists tightened and his face wore a grin behind the harsh, leather exterior of a face he now possessed.

"We all want to make that difference, something to give us a better quality of life, don't we?" Gorm seemed to be asking himself that question as he sat down, pouring himself some more tea. He chuckled again, almost mockingly this time. "You could say, Ghost, that that disgusting, garish mask of a face was the best thing to happen to you!"

That's when Ghost could hold it no longer.

In a flurry of rage and torment, Ghost rose from the sofa with a crash as he knocked a lamp over doing so. Gorm seemed to show true terror for the first time in Ghost's company. In a swift movement, the tea tray was sent flying into the crotch of Gorm, causing him to scream in agony. Gorm didn't even have time to recoil in pain before Ghost had placed his hands around his throat, throttling him beyond his own comprehension.

"You did this to me!" Ghost whispered quietly into Gorm's ear, almost in torture. "This so called "disgusting, garish mask" was all your fault!"

With each syllable uttered, Ghost's grip tightened, using each and every muscle possible in his long and powerful fingers. Gorm gripped his genitals while gasping for his already drawn out breath.

"This!" Ghost took one hand off Gorm's throat, providing a release for a brief moment. With his free hand, Ghost ripped at his face in sheer pleasure. "This is what I've become, and I f*cking love it! You've no idea..."

Gorm struggled, but managed to gasp a single sentence which changed everything.

"It wasn't my fault!"

Ghost didn't listen at first, instead resuming his grip with two hands, but Gorm resisted and barked once more.

"It wasn't me!"

Ghost had to hear the pitiful excuse Gorm was to deliver, so he briefly relented and slammed back down on the sofa while Gorm clutched his own throat struggling for breath.

"It wasn't me." he uttered once more, now more clear with the flow of oxygen. "I wasn't in charge of ventilation. That waste was not my problem, that wasn't my department."

Ghost for once kept quiet, now more interested.

"There were several departments. I was the chief janitor, in charge of cleanliness after hours. Ventilation was not one of my duties."

Ghost felt his aggression ebb away and sorrow then flowed freely through his veins. Tears built up behind his red tinted eyes, and thought of how hospitalible Gorm had been over the past 20 minutes. He had offered him tea, offered him solace, offered him answers and instead Ghost attacked him in a blind fury with no explanation whatsoever. With that thought, Ghost burst into harsh and guttural tears, sobbing harshly. He swayed gently back and forth as he did so, expecting a far worse reaction from Gorm than he actually received. Calmly and coldly, Gorm sat next to Ghost.

"I have never been happy with the administration of Excel Chemical Industries." Gorm said quietly, his tone almost mechanical. Ghost's sobbing seemed to evaporate, allowing Gorm to continue.

"I know you have been satisfied living there, but you must admit... the administration was terrible. They let this happen to you, as good as it is."

Ghost simply nodded.

"Now I know what plagues you. This deep... how you say, psychological torment is a curse, but it also opens doors. Let's you see, hear, touch and experience things people like myself could never know."

Ghost's eyes widened in ecstasy, and he smiled in realization.

"We must bring down those responsible..."

"Exactly! Now you've got it!" Gorm yelled, his hands slapping his knees in triumph. Ghost stood up, wiping his face dry, barely able to keep his excitement inside.

"We will work together... this is what brought us together." Gorm cooed, standing with him. Before Gorm could continue, the nice personoo clock chimed over him, telling them both it was 5 PM. As the nice personoo thrust in and out, Ghost giggled, amused by it's simple singing.

"We shall plan tomorrow." Gorm interrupted the singing, much to Ghost's displeasure. "There is a spare room you can use upstairs... first door on the right."

Ghost smiled again, completely disregarding the nice personoo completely and thanked Gorm, before heading up to his new abode. Gorm followed him until they reached the bottom of the lavishly carpeted staircase, and simply smiled as Ghost left to settle in.

[Oxidizer]

That took longer than expected. And not in a bad way - I was taking my time going through this stuff on account of these chapters being worth spending time on.

 

I know you wanted constructive critism but there's not a lot of room for error with this piece. If I had to pick one thing to better it, I guess I'd say to put some extra description of what the characters are doing etc. between the dialogue, but this story works perfectly as it is, so.

 

I eagerly anticipate more Ghost!

[Rhoda]

Thanks Oxidizer, it's great to have your input, as it is with everyone here. Your support means a lot.

In terms of my criticism, yeah, I can see what you mean about being more descriptive regarding actions, particularly in between dialogue as you said. I'll be sure to work on that.

Next installment won't be for another week or so yet, but please show your support and don't forget, help me improve!

[radicell]

The new chapter is definitely revealing. This is a terrific piece of work, I'm looking out for the next one.

[Rhoda]

Progress may be slow over the coming weeks, seeing as I have exams. As soon as they are over, I'm putting my efforts into this more than I have ever done with a writing project, I want to get this right. Feedback appreciated.

[mark-2007]

Dayyym. Ah well, nevermind. I have exams too, so I shouldn't really be going on gtaforums in the coming weeks either.

 

Oh, and I really liked the last chapter although I didn't understand whether he liked or disliked Gorm. I suppose Ghost himself is a bit psycho so doesn't know what he's doing, so you portrayed that well

[Oblivionz]

Dude.

Show me more teasers though.

 

Can't wait for the next few updates to this, from what you've told me (Which is barely anything), it sounds awesome.

Get XBL soon, too. Go buy an ethernet cable.

[Rhoda]

Not a lot going on in this chapter, but it's more of a window to his personality traits and behaviour, as well as bridging his arrival and his tasks together. It's not the best chapter I've written, I know that much but it serves it's function. Feedback appreciated and encouraged all the same.

 

***

 

Chapter V - Multitasking

 

Wake up, Ghost. The alarm goes “ding a ling ding”, Ghost. Wake up and show everyone how alive you are.

Yet again, Ghost had woken up with the same echo of the torturing yet nurturing voice of his conscience. Blinking slowly, his head felt like it had been released from a tightening vice all of a sudden as his awareness immediately returned. Since his ordeal, transforming him from Chris to Ghost, he had become more attuned to his abilities, being able to foresee small events such as cups being knocked over in haste and even the ringing of the telephone. Ghost had been living under the residence of Gorm for 3 days, and already Ghost had seemed settled. Though it was strange living with Gorm, he seemed more at home than ever, being given the most patience and fortitude he had ever received. At times, he grew stressful and frequently expressed his belligerence and sadness on inanimate objects, though Gorm was extremely tolerant. Though Ghost had not been offered any jobs to carry out for Gorm, he had wished hour after hour that something would arise. He was eager to take action, and frequently sat awake at night, clenching his fists and thinking of those responsible for his current state. He often pondered that if something had been done, life with his father would’ve been pleasant. He could’ve gone to university, gotten a girlfriend, obtain a job he was satisfied with. All that was void, and silent tears of sorrow, pity and aggression ran down his black, leathery cheeks. Almost instantly however, he seemed hopeful and even joyful over the fact something could be done, and he could live comfortably enough through valiant effort. If it meant harm along the way, so be it. Not everyone gets treated well in life, and some are merely pillars for the giant and mighty to stand on to reach the top…

 

As Ghost slumped down the stairs, one heavy footstep after another, he didn’t detect anyone else in the house other than him. Mornings had been pleasant, and Gorm had even acted as the father figure Ghost never had in his life. Though he realised that Gorm was only treating him well so Ghost could do his deeds, the road to righteousness was sounding even more satisfying by the day.

The by now infamous sound of the nice personoo clock rang out 9 weary bird calls as Ghost seemed to drift past the living room, drinking in his surroundings. As he did so, his fingertips glowed and eyes seemingly healthy green as objects in his wake trembled, as if being hit by a silent wall of power; strong enough to cause movement, but weak enough to leave them intact. Balance. Perfect balance.

Just as Ghost felt at ease, he let out a girlish giggle and took a deep sniff. The chemicals that had fused him and his mask together were slowly being released as the oxygen got through the harsh leather of his new face, liberating narcotics and fumes into his bloodstream and lungs. Shivering with pure delight, he walked even more slowly towards the kitchen, making aeroplane noises as he went. Ghost’s stance and mood seemed to change instantly upon the sight of a large package on the dinner table, thus diving under the table as if he was under heavy fire.

“What is it?” he said to himself, almost questioning the very voices that plagued him at times.

“Why it’s a parcel, sergeant!” came almost instantly again, as Ghost turned his head reflecting the presence of another sat with him.

Pointing his fingers up, Ghost fired imaginary rounds of ammunition, legs twitching in delight. Almost immediately however, Ghost ceased and surfaced from under the table as fast as a human body could possibly manage, keeping a straight face and keeping his composure. With unnecessary force he broke the seal with a scream, imitating an animal which had just been disembowelled. Chuckling at the strength of his impersonation he reached into the box and picked up a small, leather bound book. The book had clearly seen better days as the edges were frayed, much to the comfort of Ghost, who let out a whimper at the very touch of the torn pages.

It was this moment when Ghost snapped out of his childlike and infant state and took a seat at the table, thumbing through the book with the utmost importance and attention. He had realised just what these pages contained; his tasks. Though they seemed varied, many of them were mere intimidations to the former employees of the plant. Ghost laughed mockingly at the simplicity of this revenge path, and started to read the first page.

 

Ghost.

 

I apologise for the formality in which I’ve set you these, but I may not be here when I need something doing, fast. These will ensure we can take necessary action to those involved and those responsible. Some we will do together, though I will let you know. Remember, you live here, so don’t be afraid of dropping in now and again. I’m not that bad of a cook, and I do a mean soufflé.

 

Regards,

Gorm.

 

PS. There’s a knife and some black overalls for you in the box. It must be tiresome wearing the same suit all the time.

 

Ghost smirked, and glanced at his tie, which had accumulated a vast amount of fluid and staining over the few days he had been living with Gorm. Peering into the box, he had spotted the overalls Gorm referred to and stood up instantly, sending the chair flying backwards. Saluting the book Gorm had given him, Ghost couldn’t help laughing maniacally at his own antics as he lifted the box off the table, eager to try on his new attire and begin his rampage.

 

[Oxidizer]

Wow.

 

Chris "Ghost" is by far one of the most disturbed and complex characters in the WD that I'm aware of. And as wrong as it is for me to say; f*ckin' adorable!

 

I really like this bizarre and twisted story, and I sincerely await more.

[The Unvirginiser]

Can't belive I missed this one Craig!

As stories go in WD, this one was very complex and heavy going, I had to read over a few lines a couple of times to establish what was going on... but that might just be my hangover.

 

Very impressed, I think after this you are now generally regarded as one of the top writers on here.

 

The only problem I had was that I think you could present it better, a bit more spaced out, maybe gaps between the paragraphs... and more frequent, smaller paragraphs.

EDIT: Actually after a closer look I realised that it's actually your style, which makes it a good thing.

 

I love the idea of a gasmask burned in to his face, very Batman-supervillany.

 

 

Ghost brought his fists to his mouth and gently gnawed on his knuckles, containing his laughter and excitement.

 

 

Shivering with pure delight, he walked even more slowly towards the kitchen, making aeroplane noises as he went.

 

Sentences like that really make me connect with ghost and realise how disturbed he is.

 

 

“What is it?” he said to himself, almost questioning the very voices that plagued him at times.

“Why it’s a parcel, sergeant!” came almost instantly again, as Ghost turned his head reflecting the presence of another sat with him.

Pointing his fingers up, Ghost fired imaginary rounds of ammunition, legs twitching in delight. Almost immediately however, Ghost ceased and surfaced from under the table as fast as a human body could possibly manage, keeping a straight face and keeping his composure. With unnecessary force he broke the seal with a scream, imitating an animal which had just been disembowelled. Chuckling at the strength of his impersonation he reached into the box and picked up a small, leather bound book.

 

 

Absoloutley Brilliant

 

Ghost really reminded me of Psycho Mantis in Metal Gear Solid.

Very disutrbing, which is good, you created an amazing atmosphere that could freak out a reader.

 

I can't wait to see what that book says.

 

Well done mate, keep them coming!

Edited May 17, 2008 by The Unvirginiser

[Rhoda]

Chapter VI - Deforrestation

 

It was time. Ghost rattled down the street, not making a sound. As people passed him, they did what usual city goers would do on a busy Wednesday afternoon; completely ignore him. While Ghost received the occasional odd look from people passing him, he relished the thought of being different. He knew it was cliche, but he craved the satisfaction of being an outcast. The world was bad enough without him in it.

As he walked, Ghost again thumbed through the beaten book, which had clearly seen more careful owners than Gorm. Licking his lips with anticipation, his voice ran through the plan once again.

Sneak in. Destroy the bitch. Sneak out.

Sneak in. Destroy the bitch. Sneak out.

Ghost had been sent to permanently remove a certain teacher from the curriculum, who once worked at the chemical plant briefly as a safety manager. It was her job to ensure that all disposals of waste were registered and safely executed, and Ghost even remembered her from his days of sneaking around the plant. Day after day, he would scourer the airvents above her office, desperate to catch a glimpse of the single most attractive woman working there. He had always hoped she never saw the drool on her desk, or the semen stains lying casually and flowing freely on her coat while she went for lunch. Now, he realised that she may have been one of the many that resulted in him being the way he was. A normal life was indeed out of the question, but he could at least set the record straight...

After a delightfully awkward bus ride, Ghost approached the school gates and placed his hands on the rusting copper coating. As the bus left, the elderly sat on the window seats could not help but gaze at the peculiar young man wearing a gas mask.

Come now Ghost, this city's not that polluted surely. Try to take it off. Go on. I dare you. I f*cking dare you.

Ghost sni**ered at his own tauntings, knowing full well he could not prise the mask from his face. Why would he want to? The power he now possessed was frightening, and he not even had chance to develop his skills. Until now, at least.

Taking his hands of the pleasurable texture of the gates, he reached into the book and found a the school's standard visitor swipe card. Issued to those who came in to deliver talks and educational discussions, it was the perfect tool for the more sinister visitor.

 

"Hello... sir," the Receptionist said quietly through the so called protective glass. "May I help you?"

"Yes, sorry, let me introduce myself!" Ghost straighten up and thought quickly.

Come on Ghost, delve deep. Read the clipboard.

Ghost seemed to be able to picture a rudimentary list of names, dates and events. Down and down he went. Until he stopped.

Right there. Bingo.

"I'm Chris Gorman, safety inspector of the fire department. I'm here to provide a professionally run demonstration on the escape from a fire."

Ghost simply beamed.

"I'll have to check our records, sir... we'll be with you in a moment." the Receptionist replied, clearly dubious of Ghost's claim. Rightly so, he didn't seem the right type to be a safety inspector, but even so, she checked her records and there he was, penned in for a 11 AM slot.

"Ah, here you are." the mood changed instantly, and instead of a suspicious look, a small grin spread across the Receptionist's face. "I'll walk you to the room."

F*ck, a hiccup. Not to worry, you can work your way out of this. Just find a deserted corridor. Patience.

"Thank you very much!" Ghost said in a friendly, well acted manner, "Lord knows this place is huge, I'd get lost myself..."

 

Corridor after corridor, every door and every wall looked the same. Even the view out of the windows as they walked didn't seem to change. Ghost walked slightly slower, forcing small talk with the Receptionist who already believed too much of a false story for his comfort. His time was now. In a foul swoop, Ghost delivered a splintering kick to the calf of the Receptionist, sending her leg shattering where she stood. She hardly had any time to let out a wail in pain and shock as she spied the fragments of bone protruding from her knee. All she could muster was a feeble whimper.

"That sounds... erotic." Ghost cooed, crouching close to the Receptionist. He couldn't help but notice how short her skirt was. The Receptionist didn't say a word, but Ghost didn't waste any time waiting for a disgruntled reaction as he bundled her up and forced her into the nearest storage cupboard. Too his amazement, he found he could lock and unlock doors with just a flick of his finger. He spent 5 minutes playing with the door, laughing as it unlocked and locked with ease. After he had exhausted the fun of that, Ghost ensured the door was finally locked before glancing at the timetable in the glass cabinet nearby.

It was examination season, leaving many teachers solitary in their rooms marking coursework or simply having a catch-up conversation with their co-worker friends over a hot cup of coffee. Ghost ran a tentative finger down the overly laminated chart and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the name he desired.

Miss. Forrest.

"Score!" Ghost punched the air in delight, chanting like his local sports team had won the final. "Now, where is the bitch... Lord only knows what I have planned."

 

Luckily for Ghost, the woman he wanted was sat alone, sipping a bottomless cup of cold coffee as she grudgingly ticked a paper. Sighing, she shook her pen as the trail of ink ran dry and she threw it in a nearby bin. Miss. Forrest opened the drawer with a grunt, clearly annoyed at the amount of work she had to complete by the end of the day and took out a fresh pen. Her third that hour. Luckily for her, Ghost had arrived to relive her of her work.

"Knock f*cking knock".

Ghost lunged a well aimed fist through the glass panel in her door, not taking his eyes off her while he opened the door. Miss. Forrest froze as he approached her with open arms, uneasily welcome.

"Looks like someone has a buried past, then!" Ghost said with a giggle, raising his hands up mockingly to cover his mouth.

"What do you mean? Who are you? Get out this instant!"

"Not f*cking likely you sexy c*nt!" Ghost yelled, hands slamming on the desk. "I'm here to end your chance of a normal life, just like you did me! I almost regret wanking on your coat!"

Miss. Forrest let out a wail and ran to the door, but Ghost was too quick for her and he sent her flying with a mere swipe of his hand without even touching her. Ghost's abilities were clearly broadening, and he held his hands up in awe.

Miss. Forrest scrambled to her feet, crying and trying every door for help. Ghost simply picked up her cup and took a sip before launching it at her head which broke with a dull crack. Blood ran thickly down Miss. Forrest's forehead as she stumbled to her feet and attempted to open a door further down the corridor. To her horror, it was locked from the inside and barricaded. No way out.

"Ah, not to worry dahhhling!" Ghost yelled in a British accent, "I'll give you a hand!"

Ghost flicked his fingers in a camp fashion and the door sprung open... to reveal the Receptionist, bleeding to death. Miss. Forrest screamed as loud as she could muster until the Receptionist collapsed on top of her with a sickening crunch. Bone and blood smothered Miss. Forrest in a disgusting but beautiful wave, and the last thing she saw through the thick crimson was the foot of Ghost coming into contact with her face. In a swift movement, Ghost bore grit teeth as he slowly twisted his foot until the neck of Miss. Forrest stopped cracking.

It was all over so soon, and Ghost licked his lips once more, drooling feverishly down his overalls. Escape seemed so elegant and graceful, and Ghost soon found himself outside the school once more gazing at what once was the workplace of a demon seed. One down.

 

 

 

 

[The Unvirginiser]

Brilliant work Craig.

Something that must have slipped by me... is Ghost developing superhuman powers? And how is he doing that?

Can't wait for the next name in the book

[Rhoda]

It's a slow development, the narcotics have slowly infiltrated his mind allowing him to break free of boundaries. It'll become more evident as we progress, yet he won't become dependent on it because where's the fun in that?

[The Unvirginiser]

Aaaah

I wrote a story like that

It's fun to be creaive with jedi-like skills

[Rhoda]

Yeah, I suppose it's along the lines of The Force, but more harmful. Sure, there's the small psychic skills like picking locks or telekinesis but a lot of his abilities are... let's say... damaging.

[The Unvirginiser]

Maybe he could invade their dreams and sh*t like Psyhco Mantis?

[Rhoda]

Perhaps, though that may be too far. Maybe some thought influence or mind reading, but nothing that takes the effect of violence away from the chapter. We'll soon see how I'm going to use it...

[The Unvirginiser]

Can't wait, would be sick to see him mind f*ck somebody

[Rhoda]

Surprise! Dual chapters are the way forward. Not very long, or revealing, but it bridges a gap.

 

 

Chapter VII - Afternoon Tea

 

Ghost sat at the dinner table, eyes agape as he gingerly held a freshly made cup of tea. Gorm bustled around the kitchen, eyes on the television as he dried a plate. The mood and atmosphere was so contropunctual it was untrue; Ghost had just been sent to assassinate a teacher, and there he was, feet drenched with blood while drinking tea. Gorm was emotionally tethered, and it had if Ghost had been to get shopping for him rather than kill someone he wished. It was a bizarre but strong friendship to say the least.

Ghost drained his cup, part of the very set he had nearly broken days before, and set it down as slow as he could possibly muster. He watched as he set it down, and childishly flicked it with the tip of his finger. Smiling, he held is finger straight up from the table and carefully rotated it. To Gorm's pleasure, the cup started to spin. Gradually, it gained speed until Ghost deliberately lost his concentration, which sent the cup flying into the wall. Shattering, Ghost slammed his nimble hands onto the table.

"Whooo!" he yelled, "Check the fragments on that motherf*cker!"

"Very nice." Gorm simply replied, smiling.

"I thought so too, you know... you know, it's like, dropping things. It's great. Smash. Woosh." Ghost made frantic hand gestures as he did so.

Gorm didn't answer this time, but simply smiled as he took a seat opposite Ghost. At this, Ghost had grown bored of destruction for a short while at least and used his psychic prowess to repair the cup and even set it into the sink. His face was much like a young child would wear after being scolded for hurting a sibling, yet there was no tension or uneasiness in the air.

"Now..." Gorm finally said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You did very well earlier. Very well. This is what I was talking about! Retribution! Revenge!"

Ghost simply played with his fingers, smiling wider and wider as each one cracked at the joints.

"We need to up our game." Gorm took a sip of his tea and continued, "I wrote that book for you. As you know, it has tasks but blank pages too, for you to write in."

Ghost's face finally fell as he remembered the scrawls he used to draw in his attic with his own blood. Exhaling heavily he looked at his solitarily scarred drawing finger.

This one shall be your most beautiful creation.

"Ghost?"

He snapped back with a shudder, and took a sip of tea to hide his emotions from Gorm. Luckily for Ghost, Gorm wasn't a mindreader.

"Look, all I'm saying is, you'll need to be prepared. You can't go round beating the f*cking sh*t out of anyone I want you to. Sometimes, you'll need to be a bit more... how you say... tactile."

"I'm not one for subtlety, Gorm..." Ghost muttered, monotonously.

"Tough." Gorm replied bluntly. "I'm sorry but you're going to have be at times, we can't afford to get caught! We know it's right."

"So..." Ghost leant back on his chair, hands behind his head and clicking his tongue rapidly. "What do you suggest?"

Gorm got up and placed his cup in the sink. He finally spoke.

"Guns."

Ghost let out an exasperated noise of excitement and nearly fell off his chair trying to right himself again.

"Thought you might like that" Gorm whispered, "I never said subtlety didn't have it's perks! I have a friend down in the industrial district, sells all kinds of army surplus sh*t, real technical. We'll go pay him a visit soon, pick you up some hardware."

Ghost simply sat there, drooling once more, almost as much as he did earlier with the Receptionist.

You should've taken her there and then. She could've have more bone sticking out of her if you'd have laid it down... laid her down. Right there in the corridor. Let everyone see what sort of an administration that school is run by.

Ghost chuckled.

"Now... would you like some more tea with your toast?" Gorm enquired warmly.

[Struff Bunstridge]

As a long time horror fan, this is some seriously chilling stuff, MK. I've just spent about half an hour reading and re-reading this, and it's astonishingly good.

 

Keep it up mate.

Edited May 20, 2008 by Struff Bunstridge

[Rhoda]

Thanks Struff, didn't know you were such a horror fan. I'll be updating this regular, especially over the summer when I have f*ck all to do.

[mark-2007]

Great stuff, nothing to criticise really - it's great! Keep it up!

 

Any idea how many chapters it will be in length?

[Rhoda]

Thanks Mark, your support means a lot. All of you, thanks for your words of commendation. You're the ones keeping this going. As for total chapter count, I'm not sure yet, I'm still trying to organize it. I'm aiming for around 25-30, but that's just an estimate.

[Oblivionz]

Awesome, this is definitely at the top of my list in order of favorite story right now. Love it, adore it, could CUM all over it.

<3