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Ozone



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Gender: Male
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Fri Nov 04, 2011 3:13 am
charcoalspacewolfman says...



So I'm not sure quite where all this story came from, I'm not sure if it's going anywhere, and I'm not even entirely sure where it's been...All I know is it has lots of mud on it. The story line may seem a little forced at times and that's because I really just wrote the end and thought I wanted to write a beginning to explain why he's so bedraggled and showing up on his crush's doorstep in the rain.

It was an innocuous enough question, asked in conversational tones; almost in a friendly manner. "How do you like my carpet?"
My voice was a little muffled from being mushed into the carpet, so I grunted in what I hoped was a satisfactory response. It was indeed a nice carpet; it was very soft and colored in a respectable dark green shade. It was likely more expensive than I could afford and comprised only a fraction of a room full of such objects.
I found myself wishing I had just stayed home and read, or perhaps cleaned up. My house was a bit of a mess, lately.
"I got this carpet imported from India." the voice above me intoned in that same casual, friendly manner, "Do you know it takes three starving children four days to weave one strand of its plushy goodness?"
"You sick bastard." I mumbled, unheard in the plushy goodness.
"You must be wondering why I brought you here."
Um, because I'm gonna die? Just a thought.
"It's not because I'm going to kill you, you know. That would be too easy. I'm going to watch you suffer and then maybe I'll kill you, or chain you to the corpse of a loved one or something horrible like that. I really don't have a plan, I'm just going to make you suffer and go with what hurts the most."
I was going to say something like, "Do your worst." but I figured the machismo was largely just for show and I didn't have a plan, so why bother wasting my time trying to act buff? Besides, he wouldn't have heard me anyway.
"Did you hear me?" He asked, annoyance showing in his voice. "I said I'm going to kill a loved one. Don't you care?"
I said nothing, but coughed a bit.
"I was thinking one of your parents, but they're..."
"Dead." I muffled.
"Oh, you can't speak, can you?"
Muffled reply.
I was turned over. I took a deep breath of fresh air and said, "Yep, my parents are dead, my grandparents are dead, my siblings are overseas and I don't have a girlfriend or wife."
"How about a best friend? Would that do?"
"Dude, I don't care. It's up to you. My social life sucks right now, so...do whatever."
By this time, I think the guy was getting desperate. He was probably pretty embarrassed in front of all his henchmen and henchwomen and for a second I felt sorry for him. I thought briefly about throwing him a bone, but after thinking about it I decided it really wasn't worth it.
Then he chuckled. "Yes, I think I will do...whatever."
I waited for him to say something else, but instead he left the room. I was left with the henchpeople, who avoided looking at me for the most part.
I shifted a bit and wiped the dried blood from my face. I noticed that the henchwoman near me tensed, but I ignored her and inspected myself for bruises. I found a few, but they weren't too bad. The main problem I had at that point was that I had a piece of masonry embedded in my side and I was leaking bodily fluids all over the plushy carpet. It hurt a lot, too, but I was still in shock and couldn't feel all the pain.
I gingerly took off my shirt, pausing frequently when any of my motions disturbed the masonry. I finally got my shirt off and worked on pulling the masonry out. It was painful, and I considered slowly inching it out, but opted instead for jerking it out quickly. This action released a good deal of blood and I hoped that most of my insides hadn't made it outside. I really couldn't be sure; the carpet was looking pretty dark. I pressed my wadded-up shirt to the hole and tried to staunch the flow.
The door banged open and the evildoer strode in looking smug. He noticed that I'd bled all over his carpet and made an annoyed noise. I heard him muttering something about how he'd kinda asked for it by jabbing at me with a piece of wall...
"But never mind! I have found something that will likely distress you enough!"
He had my laptop. I wasn't precisely sure how he'd gotten it, considering I had left it at home. No mind, he had it now and I was a bit worried about what he was going to do with it.
"Now what's your favorite browser? Internet explorer? Firefox? Perhaps...chrome."
My eyes said it all.
"Let's check your browsing history."
"No." I said, teeth clenched.
"Oho! You haven't been on here for two days! Imagine that. Let's see. The last thing you did on here was visit facebook. Let's see what's happening there..."
I prayed that it would ask for my password, which is ridiculously long and hard to remember. Unfortunately, it didn't.
"Hmm, you've been on your church group pretty frequently, haven't you? Let's see what history says...oh, what's this photo?"
It was pretty obvious he'd already gone through my entire browsing history already, and he was just dragging it out. Still, I was in suspense until he said, "Aha! You have a crush on...well, what is her name? She's not tagged in any of these pictures, is she? A shame, that. It means I have to work harder to find her, which means you might bleed out before you find out what I'm going to do with her when I do find her."
"Go to hell." I said.
He cackled in derision. He could tell I wasn't going to make it much longer.
"Hmm." He said after a couple more minutes of perusing my account. "Someone sent you a message. Do you want to know what it says?"
"No."
"It says, 'You have been cordially invited to my daughter Emily's nineteenth birthday party.' Now if you have such a horrible social life, why are you getting messages on facebook from girls who aren't on facebook? Sounds to me like you've got something going on here. I'll have to go to that birthday party and convey my condolences that you can't attend." He paused for effect, then continued, his voice a sinister, sneering whisper, "I may even find out what you see in this girl. She looks like a lot of...fun."
If I hadn't been largely incapacitated with all the blood running around my shirt, I would have spat or kicked him or something. I couldn't really do anything, however, so I merely wailed in anguish and watched my life slip away into the work of starving children.
I may have blacked out for a little while, because the next thing I knew, he was gone. I was still surrounded by henchpeople, but they'd relaxed somewhat. I was very weak from loss of blood, but it really didn't matter anymore. He'd won.
As I lay there thinking about how pitiful my life was right now, I realized something. I was really not cut out for this sort of thing. I mean, I decided early on that I wanted to be a superhero. Not so much in a "fall in a vat of nuclear waste and turn into some mutant beast" sorta thing, more like a, "become a policeman or armed force and take down sickos" kinda shindig.
Unfortunately, I've never really had a lot of discipline, so none of that really worked out well. I'd eventually settled for a life of obscurity and worked at a grocery store stacking shelves. It wasn't a boring job, but it just wasn't what I wanted to do with my life.
Then I discovered I could move things without touching them. This was pretty cool for awhile, and I used it to reach those really high shelves. Then I thought I could use my power for fighting crime or something fun like that.
Well, that didn't work out too well. I was walking by a robbery in progress and tried to stop it. I ended up accidentally killing the chief evildoer's brother when I moved the van. Right after that, I discovered I couldn't move anything and I became aware that I was just a wimpy dude with no real weapons. That's when I got beaten up, stabbed with a chunk of house and dragged to this guy's home to bleed on his carpet.
As I thought about how pitiful I was, I remembered how horrible my social life was. I'd just seen the girl in the pictures a couple of times before. Obviously, it was enough times for her to have her mom find me on facebook and invite me to her birthday party, but still. We didn't really know each other more than just names.
Considering this, though, I thought it was incredibly unfair for her to be hurt on my account when we'd never even taken off.
As I lay there on the carpet, hovering at the edge of the river, looking in at the countless souls that had gone before, I was struck by how horrible a boyfriend I was being. I had superpowers, dammit, I should be able to save the girl.
I was about to get angry and...well, I'm not sure. Explode? Get up, astonishing everyone and kill people left and right without any blood running through my veins? I wasn't sure. Anyway, I was about to do that when I felt a light touch on my arm.
"Hey."
I opened my eyes. The henchpeople were all crowded around me, looking a bit concerned.
I grunted.
One of the henchwomen said, "Are you like a wizard or something?"
"Huh? No. Do I look like I've got a pointy hat?"
"Well, thing is your side's healed up and we all kinda wondered how you did that."
I cautiously felt myself over. There was a big knot of skin in my side, but it wasn't bleeding anymore and seemed to be smooth skin.
"Your skin just sorta started creeping over your shirt. It was really scary."
"Wait, this bulge in my side is..."
She nodded.
"That's...that's gross."
"Yeah...you know I think you can go now. We don't really want to kill you. We've all got money, so if you don't manage to kill Matt, we'll just run anyway so he doesn't find us."
I looked up at her and asked, "Why can't you just help me out?"
"You don't want to know, but I think you can do OK on your own."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're a wizard, Henry."
She stepped back out of sight and I said, "Wait, how do you know my name?" I sat up and looked around. Everyone was gone. I thought I might have just dreamt the whole thing.
I felt very alone, but strangely pretty good considering I had almost died. I sat up, feeling perky, and promptly threw up. It was unexpected, naturally, and I was horrified at the amount of blood that came up. I felt the bile rising again, turned to all-fours and retched again and again, thoroughly ruining the nice, green carpet.
At some point, I realized that I was still retching, but nothing was coming up. I felt miserable, then realized that there was something stuck in my throat, just past my tonsils. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't swallow, so I frantically tried to pull whatever it was up with my fingers. About one minute later, I lay on the damp carpet, shivering and in pain, my bloody shirt successfully expelled from my system. I felt things twisting inside me, then something cracked and my body spasmed.
After that, it was over. I picked myself up and tried to walk to the door. I by no means felt strong enough to fight anyone, let alone run to anyone's rescue.
Still, I had to try or else Emily would be dead and it would be my fault. With this in mind, I squared my shoulders, stood up straight and shuffled the the door awkwardly.
It was raining when I pulled myself out the front door. It didn't stop raining as I lurched down the road and, when I realized that I had no idea where I was supposed to go, It continued to rain despite all my troubles. The rain seeped into my bones and settled there, grinding into my flesh and turning my body numb. I kept walking, though, through the cold, spongy wetness, until I came upon my laptop.
It was off and I was afraid to touch it for fear of getting zapped. I studied it for awhile before moving on. Obviously I was on the right track, though it was a mystery to me why Matt had ditched my computer.
I went only a few steps before I found myself flying. Not the fun sort of flying like when you've got wings, more like the sort of flying where someone hits you very hard and you suddenly find that you are making out with a sidewalk.
We didn't even have time to get to know each other, however, before I was hauled back on my feet and shoved into a brick wall. I looked up slowly into Matt's anger-twisted visage. He had lost a good deal of his charming friendliness, and now looked a good deal more like he really just wanted me to die.
I gulped. It was too late to turn back now, but at the moment it seemed like I would have issues with trying to survive.
"What are you doing still alive?" Matt growled.
"Um, well, funny thing about that..."
"Shut up."
I heard things popping as I was shoved backwards hard enough that my head bounced off the bricks. I tasted blood and heard ringing. For a second I was dancing in a ballroom surrounded by pale green faces. I tried to reach for one, but my hand met no resistance and passed right through. I came back to myself and found that Matt was stumbling away from me.
I was on the ground, staring into the pavement. My mouth felt kinda weird, and my head was throbbing. I was just thinking how it felt better than earlier when I healed myself, then my head snapped back together and I tasted ozone.
Matt stumbled out in the street, lost his balance and fell. He lay there in the middle of the road, not moving. I shuffled out to him and turned him over. He had no pulse, which was just as well considering he also had no face. Most of it was burned away in the shape of a hand print. One eye had been burned and the other stared straight into oblivion.
I looked at my hands. Neither of them seemed to have any burned flesh on them, though they were still a bit scratched from my being slammed against a wall. I looked back at Matt and shuddered.
Since there was a dead body in the road that I was responsible for, I thought I might as well call the police and report it. Since I didn't have a cell phone, I decided to knock on someone's door and ask if I could use their phone.
I went up to a house that looked inhabited, walked the steps up to the door and rang the bell. I heard music playing at a relatively low level, and at first thought maybe they hadn't heard the bell. Then I heard feet pounding on linoleum, followed by the thud of a body against the door. The knob twisted and the door opened to release a hot summer breeze and the smell of an oven laden with tasty things.
In the doorway stood Emily. She started when she saw me, then smiled and said, "Hey, Henry! I didn't expect you, but..."
At that point I think she got overwhelmed by the fact that I was shirtless and had blood all over me. She stuttered a bit and her mouth hung open as her eyes surveyed my thin frame.
"Emily," I tried to explain, "I've had some trouble getting here and...well, I wanted you to know I think you're really pretty. Your hair is always really great and your eyes are just really..." I wasn't quite sure how to describe her eyes without sounding hokey. I mean, what are "limpid pools" anyway? So I trailed off lamely and the awkward silence settled in.
Eventually, a timer rang in the kitchen. Emily seemed to compose herself and said, "We have punch. And muffins."
I made a kind of inarticulate noise in the back of my throat and stood kind of undecided. The smell wafted out and I lurched forward a bit. Clearing my throat, I said, "Sounds nice."
She smiled and moved to the side. I started forward and she stopped me before I'd gotten past the threshold. She sniffed at me a bit, then looked into my eyes and said, "Why do you smell like...magic?"
I looked at her askance. “Magic?” I asked. “What do you know about it?”
She reddened a bit, stuttered something I couldn’t make out, and shooed me to the living room hastily.
While I was alone, I sniffed myself over and tried to figure out what she meant by smelling like magic. As far as I could tell, all I smelled like was blood and rot. There was a slightly clinical smell, though, like unsalted popcorn frozen and shot through with ice.
Emily came back a short time later bearing a tray of muffins and milk. She was wearing a swishy skirt and I stared at it perhaps longer than normal. It kept changing colors.
“Do you like it? Dad got it for me.”
I nodded and looked up into her eyes. I didn’t trust myself to smile; I might not stop.
“You smell like ozone. Not necessarily magic, but magic smells like that.”
“I killed a guy outside your house.” I said. I hadn’t meant to sound quite so flat. “He was going to hurt you. I’m not sure what I did, but...” I stared at my hands.
I could hear her breathing. Slowly, steadily. Not panicky.
“Here,” she said, picking up a muffin and thrusting it at me, “have a muffin. I’ll call the police and tell them all about it.”
I tentatively took the baked good and bit into it. It tasted like a cotton-candy sheep or a technicolor bunny might taste, provided either animal stood still long enough for one to bite into them. It was heavenly.
I washed it down with some milk, smiled and said, “Thanks...Emily. These are really nice.”
She beamed. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched as she left, giving her skirt an extra swish-and-twirl before exiting the room. I heard her pick up a phone and speak into the receiver.
I took another bite of muffin and settled back into the couch. It was very relaxing and I soon found myself drifting off. Emily came back and found me drifting off. She gave me a blanket and told me something comforting. I’m not really sure what she said, though; I was asleep after the first couple words.
Last edited by charcoalspacewolfman on Sat Nov 12, 2011 2:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
HMS Tragedy?! We should-we should have known!!!
  





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28 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 904
Reviews: 28
Fri Nov 04, 2011 7:40 am
Confictura says...



I liked it!
Until it ended with little to no explanation.

I found that there was more of a Super-hero theme than a magical/wizard-y one. (although that may just be me)
I'm not sure if I should review this as a 30 minute story, or a full fledged novel.

So I'm going to just go with the 30 minutes story!
First of all, What just happened? I may be a little slow today, but why did the henchmen disappear, why did our hero's powers disappear (repeatedly)? Why doesn't our antagonist just kill the guy?
Is this a humorous story or not? Should I be laughing or crying? Were the muffins good?

Generally, what I REALLY want to say is that I need more answers, or, if the answers are there. Make them clearer.

P.S: First review in... Well, forever, really. So don't critique my review :)
Help, help! I'm being repressed!
  





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157 Reviews



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Points: 22293
Reviews: 157
Fri Nov 04, 2011 12:54 pm
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ERZA says...



WHAT a nice mysterious story that was!! I liked almost everything but things were a bit vague in some parts. Anyway keep writing!!
Always and Never are two words to always remember never to use.
  








attempting foot extraction
— Mea