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Don't Fade Away (Short Stories & Free Verse)

Discussion in 'Creative Archive' started by Rex, Sep 12, 2010.

  1. Rex

    Rex Resident Furry

    The Clock Tower

    Slowly, somewhere deep in the city, the cogs turned, powering the impressive clock on top of a large tower. The clock turned endlessly, silently and indiscriminately ticking away the hours. It didn’t matter to the giant tower that none remained in the town to hear it anymore. The Clock Tower had a job to do, and it would do it right up until the moment the giant cogs powering it finally shut down.

    The streets below the tower were empty. They had been that way for a day now. It was six in the morning, the time people were supposed to get up and go to work. The sun was just starting to rear its head on the horizon. So where was everyone? Why was the town so utterly devoid of life?

    The Clock Tower stood at the center of the town. People that climbed all the way up to the top floor could see all the way to the city limit. Barely visible all the way at the edge of town was a military barricade. It, like the town, was devoid of life. Only a few abandoned vehicles and road blocks existed anymore. There were no bodies, just the occasional splatter of blood.

    Something horrible had happened here. The town was empty, the blockade, abandoned. All over the town there were signs of fighting. Bullet holes and small craters, abandoned armored vehicles and weapons, more blood. Never any bodies. Smoke rose into the air in several places, created by fires that there were no firemen left to fight. The Police Station still stood, imposing, but empty. No squad cars remained in the lot, they dispersed around the town. Like everything else, they were empty.

    Occasionally, a shadow was cast in the vast emptiness. Rats, feasting on the surplus of food. They were one of the few animals to remain in a town otherwise devoid of any life what-so-ever. These animals did not wonder where everyone had gone. They had seen it all, and lived to tell the tale. Now that it was over, all they cared for was what was left behind.

    The Clock Tower struck seven. The sound was loud, and demanding. It scattered the rats, who for a moment believed that someone had come back. This was not the case. The cogs were just doing their job, and had gotten the bell ringing. After the tower fell silent again, the rats came back, enjoying their feast. It might be the last they ever had.

    Another fire broke out. Its smoke joined the rest of the smoke that floated from the town. As time went on, it grew, consuming several buildings. Its desperate plea for attention went unanswered. Not even the rats cared about the fire. In time, it would simmer out, just like every other fire in the town.

    The Clock Tower struck eight. School was open. No students. No teachers. Not even a principal. Just more rats, attracted by what ever the lunch ladies had prepared the day before. Pencils and papers sat abandoned at their desks, left by the students as they had filed out of building the day before. Blood was plentiful here.

    There was a bus sitting outside the school. Something had forced it onto its side. The escape hatch on the roof had been opened, as the students attempted to get out of the damaged vehicle. There were signs of struggle all around the bus. Blood was very plentiful here. The rats avoided this bus.

    The Clock Tower struck nine. By now, everyone should be at work. The factories remained empty. The offices got no calls. The water cooler wasn’t even touched. The computers were still on, left unchanged from yesterday. Blood was a common sight here. Still no bodies, but lots of signs of struggle.

    The Clock Tower struck ten. By now, the rats had stopped fleeing every time the bell rang out. They simply continued their feast, blissfully unaware of the state of the town around them. Their only thought was to gorge themselves on the food that still remained.

    The Clock Tower struck eleven. There was only one body in the entire town. It sat on the top floor of the Clock Tower, badly maimed and covered in blood. It was a soldier, and all signs pointed to the fact that they were dead. No heartbeat. No brain activity. No movement what so ever.

    The Clock Tower struck twelve. The body stirred. The heart started beating; the brain began to function once more. At the final strike of the clock, the eyes opened, and a moan escaped the body’s mouth.
  2. Re: The Clock Tower


    ...Or at least, I think that this is some sort of zombie story. I've always liked your serious, but detailed style of writing and I dare to say that this is your best work so far. I am really interested in this story and I hope to see more soon!
  3. Re: The Clock Tower

    This is definitely different from what's usually posted around here. Dark Soul seems to be right, too. I've never really read any zombie stories, though, so I'll stick around to see what's going on.
  4. Re: The Clock Tower

    Certainly supernatural, but necessarily zombies (would be more interesting if it weren't). Nice writing; very evocative without being overly worded.
  5. Re: The Clock Tower

    Oh. My. God. Holy Crap~ This is awesome! I like the style, and how you've written it makes me want MOAR! And a BTW it is very good, no constructive criticism.
  6. Rex

    Rex Resident Furry

    Re: Don't Fade Away (Short Stories)

    Don't Fade Away

    It was over; Jake knew when he had been bested. The Lucario dropped his weapon, blood staining his shirt red. His opponent wasn’t in much a good condition himself, but had still managed to deliver the finishing blow. Jake slumped against a wall, sliding down to a sitting position. He looked over at his opponent, the little Futachimaru named Dilan.

    Dilan walked forward, picking up the Lucario’s dropped sword as he did. He took aim at the Lucario with it, scowling.

    “Where’s Seth?” the Futachimaru growled.

    “Like I’d tell you,” Jake answered, “I’ll die before I rat out a friend.”

    Dilan looked pissed, he jabbed the blade at the Lucario, stabbing it through his shoulder and into the wall. Then he sheathed his own blade, and started to walk off.

    “You used to be such a nice kid,” Jake sighed, “I remember when Alec first brought you to the base.”

    That caused the Futachimaru to stop, “That was a long time ago, I’ve changed since then.”

    “Only a year,” Jake chuckled, “I’m sure you remember the kid you used to be, I know I do.”


    It was raining, and Alec was late. Seth the Buizel was pissed. The rain made him energetic, and he wanted a job to complete. Jake had given up all attempts at calming him down, content to let him pace the room.

    Finally, the door swung open. In walked Alec the Monferno, suit soaking wet. There was something behind him, a small Pokemon not from anywhere near here, a Mijumaru. Seth quickly turned to face the Monferno, ready to demand a job. However, the child threw him off a bit.

    When the Buizel could form a sentence again, it was a simple: “What’s with the kid?”

    “This is Dilan, he’s your new superior,” Alec answered, completely serious, “I expect you to treat him with respect.”

    The little Mijumaru peaked out from behind the Monferno’s back. Andre, a Linoone, stood up on his hind legs and waved to the Pokemon, always eager to make a new friend. The Mijumaru shied away from him for a moment, before waving back.

    “Are you sure this one is capable of Mafia life?” Hades, a Dusknoir, asked, “He’s a bit young.”

    “He’ll do fine,” Alec answered, “You do not need to question me.”

    The Monferno was showing a rare soft side. Alec only ever helped out those in huge need, like Sven, a Shiny Smeargle. He had probably seen something horrible happen to the little Pokemon. Jake didn’t know for sure, but he thought that they would all be able to get along well enough.


    “Yeah, well I’m different now,” Dilan asserted, “Besides, it’s Seth’s fault I changed.”

    “You were ready to throw your life away to save Alec,” Jake pressed, “What happened to that?”

    “That was before I knew that losing my shell would make me a freak later on,” Dilan answered.

    “A freak?” Jake scowled, “You’re completely normal. Sure you have no shells or your species’ darker blue fur, but you still aren’t a freak. You shouldn’t talk about your deformities like that; they barely inconvenience you at all. Claire doesn’t have a right eye, yet you don’t see her complain about it.”

    “Claire probably got revenge!” the Futachimaru shouted.


    It was dark. Alec and Shane had both been beaten, and were lying on the ground. The Mafia had declared that all Pokemon hailing from the Isshu region were a danger to its continued existence, and a sizable bounty had been put out on the head of any one brought in, dead or alive. For harboring two of these Pokemon, Alec was to be put to death.

    Seth was standing over Shane, a Zoroark. The foreign Pokemon were worth more alive then dead, so information could be extracted from them. It meant an increase in the bounty. The Zoroark was well and truly unconscious, but Alec was able to pull himself to his feet. Even as wounded as he was, the Monferno wanted to protect Dilan, who was standing a few feet away, quivering.

    Seth grinned, pulling a small dagger off Shane’s belt. He was going to finish the job. Dilan didn’t have time to think. As soon as Seth moved to throw the dagger, he ran towards the Monferno, jumping up to protect him for once, instead of the other way around.

    The knife impaled the Mijumaru, right through the middle of the shell on his stomach. The shell cracked, and fell apart, leaving the sky blue fur underneath exposed. The Mijumaru fell back, into Alec. A look of surprise crossed Seth’s face, than he sighed. The Buizel turned, and started to leave.

    “Sir?” Hades called, “Don’t we have a job to do?”

    “Not anymore Hades,” the Buizel answered, “It’s time to meet up with old friends.”

    The Dusknoir’s eye widened, then he nodded, floating off after the Buizel. The rest of the team followed behind. It was only later that Dilan learned of the second; dominate personality within Seth, Daxter. Thanks to Dax’s timely take over, their lives had been spared.


    “You might be right about that,” Jake nodded, “But, you know, for all the bad things you’ve said about Seth, he never went for revenge himself, after his flotation sac was destroyed. His own species’ trademark.”

    “Well, maybe the impossible has happened and he is, in fact, a better person then me,” Dilan sneered.

    By now, the Futachimaru had taken a seat a few feet from the Lucario. Jake could feel himself losing consciousness, but forced himself to hold on. He had to convince Dilan to give up this stupid revenge plot. He pushed his hand against the stab wound on his side, trying to stop the bleeding. His sword was still embedded in his shoulder, and he didn’t have the strength to pull it out.

    “Don’t think like that Dilan,” Jake sighed.

    “Well then how should I think!?” the Futachimaru yelled.


    Things had changed; the persecution of Isshu Pokemon had ended. Alec, Dilan, and Shane had been allowed to return to the Mafia. It was a wonder the three were able to survive as long as they had. Seth was displeased about losing the bounty, and didn’t have any idea why he had. The Buizel was completely unaware of his other persona, and no one seemed to plan to tell him.

    Dilan was riding a train with an Infernape named Mikhail. Shane and Alec had been ordered to do something else. This was the first time the Mijumaru would be on a mission without them, and he planned to prove himself. The area his shell had used to cover was bandaged, covering the wound that had yet to fully heal.

    Suddenly, two Pokemon burst into the car, both wearing a black cloak with a crossed sword and gun emblem. They were Black Ops. survivors, and they wanted revenge. The larger one rushed Mikhail, while the smaller one quickly cornered Dilan. The Pokemon had a blade, which he used to stab at the Mijumaru. Dilan leapt to the side to dodge it, but the Pokemon expected this, swinging the sword upward, slashing through his goggles and leaving a small cut near his nose.

    Not knowing what else to do, he dived away from the Pokemon, avoiding another swing. The cloaked Pokemon followed him, bringing his blade down again. However, he missed, not expecting the Mijumaru to roll after the dive had been completed. His sword slammed down into a chair, and stuck there.

    Seeing his chance for a counter attack, Dilan fired off a Water Gun, just as the Pokemon managed to pull his sword out again. The attack smacked the Pokemon in the face, sending him sputtering. The Mijumaru dashed to the other side of the car, dodging around Mikhail and his opponent as he did.

    The Infernape was fighting against his opponent with a small dagger. Seeing that Dilan was at a disadvantage, he kicked his opponent away, and pulled a collapsible baton out of his pocket. He threw it to the Mijumaru, and then returned to his battle. Dilan caught it, and extended it, just as his opponent made it around the larger Pokemon, and rushed him again.

    Thinking quickly, Dilan pulled off his bandanna and threw it at the Pokemon, adrenaline pumping. The cloth did its job, distracting the Pokemon for just long enough for Dilan to get up close. When the Pokemon slashed the bandanna out of the air, Dilan brought the baton down on its hand, hearing bones crack.

    The black cloaked Pokemon yelped in surprise and pain, distracting his comrade long enough for Mikhail to tackle him across the car and through a door, into the next car. Now alone with his assailant, Dilan swung the baton again with all his might, rewarded with another crack of bone, this time from the Pokemon’s arm. Now with one arm completely useless, the Pokemon could do nothing but clumsily swing the blade at the Mijumaru. Dilan easily dodged around the Pokemon, swinging his baton at its leg, bringing it down to its knees. From there, bringing the baton down on its back sent the Pokemon onto the floor.

    The attacker was now completely at the Mijumaru’s mercy. Dilan smirked to himself, placing the baton on the seat next to him, and picking up the dropped sword. He felt powerful, like there was nothing he couldn’t do. Suddenly, everything went white. When he could see again, Dilan was taller; his hands were covered in black fur, and had three developed digits. Otherwise, he was nearly completely covered in sky blue fur. He had evolved, but something was wrong. Futachimaru were supposed to have a darker blue fur covering their lower bodies, and a shell on either side. He had neither of these, but why? Could it be because his old shell had been broken?

    No other solution presented itself to him, and the new Futachimaru growled. He would get his revenge on Seth for making him a freak. Dilan pulled the sword’s sheath off of the Pokemon’s belt; he’d keep the blade, to replace the shells he’d never have. He then brought the sword down on the Pokemon’s neck, ending his life.

    After a few minutes, Mikhail returned. He too had killed his opponent. After the train finally reached its destination, the Infernape took Dilan to get a suit and fedora, the uniform of the Mafia. It was his way of congratulating the Pokemon for his victory and evolution. The Futachimaru felt as if he was finally a full member of the organization. But in the back of his mind, his plot for revenge was already forming. One day, he would kill Seth.


    “Positively of course,” Jake smiled, “Come on Dilan, don’t let yourself spiral into the darkness. You’re a good kid, you deserve better. Just don’t let yourself fade away…”

    With that, the Lucario lost consciousness. Dilan stood up again and sighed. Perhaps Jake was right. He shouldn’t let revenge consume him. He should try to move on. Seth had only been acting on orders; he couldn’t blame the Buizel for his injuries. If the tables were turned, Dilan would have acted exactly the same way. He had just wanted someone he could blame, and Seth was the most likely target. Maybe in a few days, he could meet up with Seth, and apologize. He would like that.

    There were Pokemon approaching, Dilan could hear their footsteps. They were calling out for Jake, worried for the Lucario. That apology would have to wait for another day. Smiling to himself, Dilan checked to make sure Jake was still breathing, then hurried off down a back alley.


    “What are you looking at?” the Buizel questioned.

    “N-nothing!” the Mijumaru answered.

    Seth sighed, and tugged at the bandanna around his neck. It was the assassin’s most recognizable feature. Everyone backed away when they saw it, scared of the Buizel’s reputation. Dilan was amazed by the Pokemon, and had a lot of respect for him. He couldn’t help but stare.

    “I think you have a fan Seth,” Sven smirked.

    With another sigh, Seth nodded. After a moment, he reached out and patted Dilan on the head. The Mijumaru smiled, thinking, hoping, that maybe one day, he could call the infamous Buizel his friend.
  7. Rex

    Rex Resident Furry


    I look in the mirror.
    And what I see, oh god, it can’t be me.
    Eyes full of malice, hate, and devoid of fear.
    It’s something I couldn’t be, something I wouldn’t be.

    And yet…
    When I look in the mirror, and see him there.
    With his hate filled eyes, and cocky grin.
    It’s as if he’s asking me, “Do you wanna bet?”

    I go through my life, and I try to forget.
    But when ever I close my eyes at night, I see him again.
    Him, with that cocky grin.
    He tells me that we are one in the same…

    As time goes on, bits start to fall away.
    My memory has holes in it, as wide as can be.
    And when I look in the mirror, I see him there.
    He smirks at me, and says he is taking over.

    My friends don’t look at me the same.
    My brother avoids me as if I carry the plague.
    At times like these, I start to wonder…
    What, oh god, what if he’s right?

    Days pass, weeks, months…
    I see him in the mirror; he tells me he’s stronger…
    Life goes on without me, the blanks in my memory widen.
    So much time passes and I’m not even aware of it…

    Oh god, please.
    Just please…
    Don’t let what I see in the mirror.
    Please God, please don’t let it be me!

    God doesn’t answer.
    I look in the mirror, and he tells me he can’t.
    God can’t help me now, no one can.
    I’m losing control, he is taking over.

    I come to, lost and confused.
    I find myself standing over the corpse of my friend.
    He is bloody, cut open a million different ways.
    I can’t have done this, no, please no, don’t let me lose it to him!

    But I do, I sink away again almost instantly.
    I fight, I thrash, I demand control, I can’t lose!
    But I do, I let it go for too long, and he is too strong now.
    I’m forced into the deepest recessions of his mind.

    I come to, one last time.
    This time, it is my brother’s corpse I see in front of me.
    I can feel him next to me, goading over his kill.
    I let him do this, this is all my fault, he tells me.

    I die, I feel myself fading away.
    He takes complete control, and there is nothing I can do.
    Nothing I will do.
    It’s over for me.

    He can inherit the world.
    I won’t stop him, I don’t deserve to, not now.
    He can have my body, while I…
    I slowly… Fade away.

    It’s not so bad; my brother will greet me!
    He and all my friends…
    They’ll all greet me, where I going!
    And then… We can all be… Happy again…

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