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| One (Of Many) Tales of Grump Hollow; For Kale, Kammy, Pianta, and Dev | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 9 2013, 02:19 PM (999 Views) | |
| Wallace | Feb 9 2013, 02:19 PM Post #1 |
Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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Doctor Vasilyev arched his young, strong back over his desk cluttered with papers, vials, syringes, tubes and beakers of many types, coffee cups, coffee stains, and the occasional bloodstain, examining the letter he had just received from the terrified post boy at the door to his decrepit and creepy mansion. The letter was addressed to him, certainly, and was from some court house somewhere. Letters actually addressed to him were rarer than blue moons; most were stolen for purposes of his own, usually scientific, although on occasion political when the disorder of this town began to weigh too heavily against the walls of his laboratory, as if it might collapse at any moment. This letter concerned some Leyla Nowell, some teenage distant relative of his who apparently had traced him as her only living relative. This came as a surprise to Vasilyev, because he hadn't thought any records still considered him alive -- he wondered how on Earth she had found out about him. The letter said she was lacking a guardian and as such was to be given to the custody of the closest living relative -- or in her case, the only living relative. He grumbled in his usual way and crumpled up the letter, tossing it behind him on the floor. "Good luck finding this place," he mumbled, being used to talking to himself. What a hindrance that would be to all his scientific and alchemical work, he thought: Raising a child! Lightning crashed outside, and the window his desk was positioned against lit up. He thought perhaps he saw some figure walking in the quick flash -- but shook his head. He'd made sure none of the other fools in this town would try to bother his experiments and research. He hunkered back down over his work again, reading some crumbling, yellow old treatise on the alchemical recipe for the Philosopher's Stone -- an endeavor he'd tried to avoid primarily due to its inconsistency with scientific law, but one he nevertheless was interested in. Then, suddenly, came a knock at the giant, black, oak door to his mansion... |
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| Kammy | Feb 9 2013, 02:32 PM Post #2 |
You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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Shivering slightly, Leyla Nowell, a 16 year old student who had dropped out of Secondary school, pondered the exterior of the vast mansion that seemed to tower over the neighbouring residences. Hoo boy, she thought, as she flicked through her notes of research- letters, telephone numbers, connections. Yep, this is definitely the right address. Leyla felt incredibly uneasy as she grabbed the handle of the door, which was rusting slightly, and knocked it. Only once, for she feared the noise would disturb him. Him being her last single living relative, her only hope. The appearance of the abode made her feel rather ill with anxiety and unanswered questions. She was going to have to live with this man- like it or not- of whom she knew barely anything about. Her heart pounded as she heard movement inside. |
  The Whore's Order
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| Deleted User | Feb 9 2013, 03:06 PM Post #3 |
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A young woman hurried through the empty streets, an umbrella clutched in hand as she desperately attempted to flee the storm. She had been out for a walk when this storm, initially a mere drizzle, had kick started. Unfortunately for her this meant she was now caught out in the rain and wind, with lightning flashing across the sky like a web of cracks on glass. She fell forward as the tip of her shoe caught on e pavement, and her umbrella flew off behind her. She swore loudly and began to get up- When suddenly a hand appeared before her eyes, offering help. She took it gladly and stood, and turned her head to look at the stranger. She let out a gasp of fear. Standing before her was a youth, perhaps in his late teens to early twenties. He wore a black tank top, which exposed his pale, scar coated arms, and baggy jeans that inexplicably seemed to fit him despite looking much too large for his waistline. His face was painted white and black, like a monochrome clown, an a strange symbol, like an O with three tildes across it, seemed to be carved in scar tissue on his forehead. His hair, though slick with rain, seemed to thrash about in the wind like an angry mass of snakes. "Good evening, milady." He grinned at her. "It's a bit of an odd time to be out for a walk, isn't it?" The woman began to back away. "P-please," She stammered, "I don't want any trouble. I-I'm just trying to get home!" "Home, huh?" The youth replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Well s**t, I'm sure you'd love to, what with the storm and all! And what manner of man would I be if I didn't help the nice young lady in her hour of need?" She cringed. Was this freak hitting on her or something. "Look, I, it was very nice of you to help me up and all but really, I just, I need to get home." "Aw, but doll..." The clown faced youth grinned even wider. "How can you ever get home without our help?" That was the last straw. With a scream of fear the woman turned and ran the other way. She could hear the wind rise to the shriek of a banshee, as the youth behind her cackled menacingly. Suddenly from in front of her appeared another one of them, darting out of an alley. This one appeared to be a mime, with a bald head and X's drawn over his eyes, which were milk white and blind. He smiled at her and she felt her limbs seize up. She went from running to completely paralyzed in no time flat and fell flat on her face. She let out a grunt of pain as her skin scraped pavement. "Excellent work Claude," the previous youth said to the mime as he flipped her over. "We got ourselves a live one." The mime nodded in acknowledgement and offered the youth what appeared to be a large black metal baseball bat. He took it and grinned down at the woman. "So you wanna fudgeing go home, huh?" He asked her. She let out a muffled sob in reply; she could not move her lips. "Well girl you're in luck, today we're gonna make you a deal you can't refuse. We're gonna send you home. And all we want in return is... You." She tried to scream, but could not. The youth lifted the bat and smiled like a madman. With a mighty swing the bat came crashing down on her head. The pain was agonizing. Another swing came, and another. She could feel the bone of her skull begin to buckle as the blood began running down her face, and she could do nothing to stop it. Finally with one last swing everything went black. The clown examined the corpse. He'd smashed her head in good alright. Normally it would have taken much fewer swings; he definitely needed this prey tonight. His strength wasn't at its peak. He licked the end of his bat and savored the coppery taste of the woman's blood. Ah, it felt good. Hadn't eaten in what felt like days. The mime stared down at the corpse hungrily and he frowned. "Don't you fudgeing dare Claude. My kill, I get first dibs. In any case, we gotta tote this thing back home toot sweet. So don't even start." The mime glowered in reply, but turned and walked away. The youth bent down to pick up the woman and slung her over her shoulder. "Ah, Darius," He said to himself, "Sometimes it's so easy to forget how much fun the Carnival can be." |
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| Wallace | Feb 9 2013, 03:22 PM Post #4 |
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Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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Grumpily, Vasilyev rose from his desk, stepping on many discarded and crumpled papers strewn all throughout the house, but with a definite source in the study. He grabbed a candle from its sconce by his study door. He much preferred candles to more modern alternatives, like flashlights, because it brought him a comfort from the older times. While scientific innovation had certainly advanced considerably in his mysteriously long life, it still could not catch up with the achievements he had made here, in this place, by himself, without demanding any sort of reward from the outside world. This was primarily because of the rather morally questionable means by which he made these discoveries, however. His great imposing house was dark all around, and rather cold on this stormy night -- but the cold was where he thrived; he had spent a great many years inside his own morgue in the basement where he performed dissections as well as plenty of experiments. He yawned before opening the door for the young woman who stood outside. He was a rather handsome man, despite his age, and could easily pass for his early twenties. His hair was an orange-blond flare, and his eyes were the palest shades of sky. Those eyes, being tired on this stormy night, put little to no effort in actually identifying the person at his door. "What the hell do you want," he said gruffly in a voice that, despite its youthfulness, held tones of age in its growling sounds. |
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| Kammy | Feb 10 2013, 03:18 AM Post #5 |
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You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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Leyla wouldn't have normally had any problems introducing herself to acquaintances- if it weren't for the inexplicable lump in her throat, plus her palms sweating didn't really help the matter either. She studied the man in front of her with her curious blue eyes, who for some reason she had previously pinned as looking as haggard as the mansion itself, but was surprised when he looked nothing of the sort. Leyla attempted to banish the building tension in her body by focusing it into her clenched fists, and straightened her posture, trying to make herself at least appear presentable. "I-I'm sorry to bother you," Leyla mused, bowing slightly, "Are you Mr. Vasilyev? I have you traced as my last living relative, and I need somewhere to stay, and, um.." Her small suitcase, shy of content, gently knocked her shaking legs. By God, she really hated this atmosphere. Leyla braced herself, half expecting the door to slam in her face. |
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| Wallace | Feb 10 2013, 07:50 AM Post #6 |
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Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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Vasilyev stared at her for a while, but soon it could be noticed that he seemed to be looking through her, focused on something beyond her that may or may not actually exist. "No," he said, slowly closing the door, "no, no, no, no, no ..." He kept repeating the word in an ever softer volume as the door finally creaked all the way back into its frame. He turned to go to the nearest bathroom. His face glowed in the mirror from the twitching candlelight. He turned the faucet on and splashed the water in his face; his eyes looked like sheets of ice facing the flame that would destroy them. Then, as of some sudden vision, a sight that his memory had especially dedicated itself to keeping, he saw eyes of a softer blue, like the sky beyond the clouds this town so rarely saw. They, too, were shone upon by the glow of a candle, and looked like water afraid of the fire that would boil it. He saw those eyes embedded into the face of a girl, but he remembered where those eyes came from ... The door opened again. He looked over the girl again, frowned, then said, "Come on." He held the door for her to enter. |
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| Kammy | Feb 10 2013, 08:10 AM Post #7 |
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You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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Leyla's psyche had been thrown into disarray by Vasilyev's unusual response. She stared unwittingly into the deep, dark depths of the corridor that loomed in front of her, and back to the unforgiving eyes that seemingly bored into her. Finally, Leyla mustered up the courage to step into the mansion, and stood awkwardly in the hallway, being careful to make sure she didn't make herself seem at home in any way. Instinctively, she began biting her nails, a bad habit that she had resolved to conquer a long time ago, but never had. "Thank you. Really, honestly, I cannot thank you enough for this." Said she, breaking the silence which was palpable-so thick and intense that it had almost suffocated her. |
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| Wallace | Feb 10 2013, 08:32 AM Post #8 |
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Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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"Whatever," the scientist said. "Come with me, I'll show you where you'll stay." He began winding his way through the labyrinthine mansion, his back turned to the girl at all times. The way he moved effortlessly through this maze of corridors and doorways made it seem as if he didn't notice that the girl was there -- or didn't care. "What's your name, again? Lemon or something?" He sighed. "Kids these days get the stupidest names." |
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| Kammy | Feb 10 2013, 12:58 PM Post #9 |
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You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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"Aah.. No, it's Leyla," she corrected him, and she waved her hand apologetically. "Leyla Nowell. I forgot, I hadn't previously introduced myself, forgive me." She trailed along apprehensively, taking into the new surroundings that she would be calling home for however long. She was unsure, however, what was worse; this place or temporarily staying with one friend after another. At least the latter had been slightly more welcoming. Leyla itched to ask Vasilyev many questions about the place, and more so the man himself, but continued to follow on in forced silence. |
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| Wallace | Feb 10 2013, 01:13 PM Post #10 |
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Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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Finally, on the third floor, Vasilyev found a spare bedroom that he decided was most habitable, with the least amount of bloodstains (this one only had one, and it was under the bed, so she likely wouldn't notice), and with the smallest number of crumpled papers with equations, recipes, lab reports, and analysis results. "Here," he said, walking in with Leyla. "This is where you'll stay." He turned to leave the room, but stopped and faced Leyla again in front of the door. "Any important questions?" |
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| Kammy | Feb 16 2013, 12:33 PM Post #11 |
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You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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Leyla closely observed her new dwelling before glancing back at Vasilyev. How to fit everything she was mentally investigating into a few questions? There was also the fact that she didn't want to probe too far into his personal life, even if she was living with the man. Finally, she said, "Yes. What is your profession?" Leyla looked at the crumbled papers uneasily, scattered on top of a study desk. "It looks like you've been working scrupulously." |
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| Wallace | Feb 16 2013, 12:40 PM Post #12 |
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Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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"I'm a, er, scientist," said Vasilyev tersely. "I do a lot of, uh, experiments." His eyes widened as of remembering something important. He walked quickly to the closet and stuck his head in, then quickly shut the door and braced his back against it. "Quickly, give me the curtain rod, something!" The door seemed to buck against him, but he seemed strong enough to keep it closed. |
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| Kammy | Feb 16 2013, 01:00 PM Post #13 |
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You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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It took a couple of seconds for Leyla to react to the scene at hand- it would have been funny if it hadn't been.. Well, real. The adrenaline kicked in as she decided to follow Vasilyev's orders and worked at getting the curtain rod off the wall- as she tugged at the object, Leyla's eyes darted back to the scene unfolding behind her. The man was holding up pretty well against the mysterious force that was trying to break free from captivity, and she was surprised at his tenacity. The curtain rod came free from the top of the window, and Leyla quickly rushed to Vasilyev's side, her eyes wild with confusion. |
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| Wallace | Feb 16 2013, 01:14 PM Post #14 |
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Break out the L-word. The other L-word.
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Vasilyev quickly and with much dexterity grabbed the curtain rod from Leyla's hands, turned around, and worked it between the door handles of the closet, preventing it from opening. The thing behind it kept beating against the door, which opened just enough despite the curtain rod securing it for a small slice of the darkness inside the closet to be visible. Glowing red eyes like hot coals shifted in and out of view as the beast rammed into the door over and over again. "That won't hold him long," Vasilyev said. "He's smelled you. Fresh meat." He paced frantically around the room, thinking. "We've got to either do something about him -- sedate him somehow -- or more effectively block the door." The door creaked against the massive weight of the creature inside; the curtain rod was bending. Edited by Wallace, Feb 16 2013, 01:15 PM.
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| Kammy | Feb 16 2013, 01:23 PM Post #15 |
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You won't get much closer, 'till you sacrifice it all.
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Leyla narrowed her eyes, knowing she had to adjust quickly to the situation at hand, or become victim to the dreaded beast that lurked behind the door. Without thinking, she rushed towards the bed and put all her weight on it, attempting to push it towards the entry point. She wasn't particularly strong and the structure held fast- she looked at Vasilyev frantically, as the curtain rod continued to bend, as though a sign of their impending doom. "Don't just stand there! Think you can give me a hand?" Leyla cried angrily, even though she knew it would do no good to get irritated in her current state. The bed appeared to be caught on something that was preventing it from being moved properly. |
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