Let me show you something Beautiful. (Closed)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Azuremoon, Jul 16, 2015.

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  1. Still Alive"I wanted to see, something new
    I followed a road and it lead to you.

    but what you showed me was only cruel-
    but now you'll see- I'll show, just you
    I'm going to show you something
    Still Alive

    Xerah's eyes were dropped down on the scene before her.
    What had she'd done?

    The room was illuminated with the flicker and panic of red and blue lights coming from the police car parked outside the house, that infiltrated through the pulled curtains. The lights were only broken by the silhouettes of the officers as they approached the house. Of course they were here. The gun in her hand - her shaking and bloody hand - wasn't exactly quiet.

    Xerah's blue eyes were dull and empty, and they hovered over the door as it began to shake from the impact of the pounding police. The eyes slowly feel onto, again, the bloody scene she'd painted herself.
    The boy and two adults on the ground were of her blood, and now that blood soaked Xerah's hands and feet.

    Why had she done this though? What had lead her here? For the life of her she couldn't remember.

    The door suddenly flew open and mean came running in, aiming lights and deadly guns at her.

    She wouldn't give them the pleasure.

    Her own guns rose, and pressed to her head-
    the girl mouthed a line
    she quietly spoke
    "I'm going to show you something beautiful."
    and then with a bang, she fell down dead.


    This story will be about a group of people (who didn't know one another) who commited suicide for no (apparent) reason and meet in the afterlife with no memory and as empty shells with only room to grow as they attempt to discover who they are, and what caused them to do what they did.

    The first post should be their deaths, and then we'll go through their awakening.
  2. Still Alive
    Clarke pulled his bag into the alley, inside was a few stolen goods from a shop on the corner of the street. On the other side of the fence were recognisable voices, egging him to throw it over.Looking around he could see people searching for him, for his DNA, for his scent with their dogs. He knew he'd be ditched by his 'friends', he'd have to find his way back in the dark. The problem was it was addicting, the thrill he got from taking things, and watching other people enjoy them. He enjoyed the running, he enjoyed everything. He climbed up the fence, pushing the bag down the other way, and climbed up onto a roof, sticking his tongue out at those below him. I'm not getting caught, he thought to himself, taking the jump off the side. Not alive. "You'll never take me to jail!" he laughed loudly before his neck snapped violently on the concrete road. The limbo of robbery was over.
  3. The Utter Pain of Living.

    The bed creaked under Cadance as she got herself nice and comfortable.
    The ceiling fan whirled and whizzed in such a fast motion that the room itself began to spin under its power. The uncontrollable shaking of her fingers lifted into the air to brush away the hairs that covered her face, she was soaked with sweat.
    How could such a cozy place become one of the most nerve-wracking places on earth. They said that you could never go crazy from silence. But her fast pounding heart and the ringing in her ears proved them otherwise.

    So she lay there, in a soaked up pool of her own sweat and tears, listening to the sounds that danced around her existence in a never-ending agony. Her heart, her ears, that damn ceiling fan, the footsteps of strangers unknown of what she was about to do, what she was capable of doing. She thought about the life that was to come after this one, the subtleties of death and the peace it will bring to the victim. These thoughts were as expected as her weak and feeble body reached to her bedside for a small, compact, and cylinder container, its contents rattling inside of it hypnotically, calling out her name in a gruesome manner.


    At this point she was so unsure if she wanted to do this, how did it ever turn out this way? During childhood, she would have never thought this addiction would ever happen to her.

    Rattling. Hypnotic rattling flowed forth from the cylinder container and into the palm of a woman who was so confused. About ten or thirteen little pills shook about, all different sizes, shapes, and colors. It was absolutely beautiful.

    Gulp. Took it down without any water, like a real champ. Cadance's body moved unwillingly to position itself comfortably on her back feeling pure bliss arise from the bottom of her toes, and slowly inching its way to her mind. Laughing to herself, she thought she was a circuitry of light switches. Her heartbeat started to slow down immensely as she imagined lightswitches, connecting to each of her senses and organs. Hearing. Off. Feeling. Off. With each light switch she began to lose everything. Eyesight. Off. Vocals. Off.

    Heart. Off.
    And just like that, she was out like a light.
    #3 Jihae, Jul 20, 2015
    Last edited: Jul 22, 2015
  4. Kyler is cold as he stumbles down his hallway, body drifting sideways to lean against the wall. Sweat beads his brow from the exertion of his body. This is nothing. The dull ache in his arm throbs again in mild protest. Kyler glances down at the bloody mass of cut flesh and the stench of red liquid. Casting his eyes to the floor, he finds the carpet is becoming dotted with dark patches, and Kyler steps forward. Briefly the world spins, Kyler's balance tilting upside down. His unnmoving legs do not fail him this time. Kyler still has time left. Turning his head backwards, as if expecting someone to be standing there in disapproval, Kyler stares into the open bedroom before turning away. He is no longer part of that life. The real challenge appears as a descending stairwell. Kyler takes one step down. Fatigue grasps him in the form of a very sharp and very vivid pain in his arm. Looking down, Kyler stumbles down the remaining stairs. Pitching forward, Kyler takes a few rickety steps before his body greets the opposing wall.

    The bathroom. Where is the bathroom? Kyler looks around. There it is. Kyler surges forward quickly, head spinning once more, but he continues walking. This is nothing. This is all psychosomatic anyways. Dropping his arm in the white sink, it does not take long for the running rivulets on his arm to begin staining the porcelain bowl. Kyler ignores it and turns on the faucet. It was too deep this time. The water showers out and Kyler yelps in pain. The water briefly washes the blood away, revealing tender pink flesh underneath the split skin. The water is barely a pink color, almost entirely swarmed in a red hue. Kyler hears a small splatter on the floor. Looking down, he sees the blood soaked through his jeans; whatever was not soaked up has dripped down his leg and onto the tiled floor. When did he do that?

    Kyler doesn't remember. The memories are hazy despite being only three minutes ago. There was the phone call, and then the reflection, but after that Kyler's mind is warped in a deep wrench of pain tinged with pleasure. The numbness always blurred the edges of the pain afterwards, it is not supposed to hurt this bad. Kyler turns off the water. The white towel- why did he grab white?- soaks the streaming blood, the red spreading as a shock of color. Kyler panics momentarily. The bleeding is not stopping. He squeezes tighter on the towel wrapped around his arm. Kyler spares a glance to his leg. The razor is still embedded in the skin. Why was it not taken out? That's right, the blood started staining his bedsheets. Kyler turns his head back to the drawer holding the towels. Opening the drawer and releasing the squeezing grip on his arm, he rummages for another towel. Are towels supposed to save him? Will towels end his misery? Kyler sours at the thought.

    The drawer shuts. Kyler peels the wool fabric from his skin. Then the razor comes out from his leg. The blood is sluggish moving now, no long spurting in long streams from his arm. Kyler's teeth chatter from the cold. The frost bites at the tips of his fingers, ears, toes, lips, anywhere it can hook a barb in. Kyler blinks, watching the colors of the bathroom fade from vivid to greyscale, and then back again. He is on the floor. When did he get on the floor? Kyler fingers the bloody metal razor in his fingers. He remembers, albeit briefly, of the expectations come tomorrow. Kyler buries the razor in the wounds.

    With the next spurt of blood, Kyler's vision slips into greyscale, black crowding in on him. He is so cold his body is shaking in small tremors. Breathing out a breath of frost, Kyler lifts his head up to the bright light in the bathroom. The small orb stretches in a flash of white before the darkness finally blankets his body. Kyler feels relief, and it is so foreign he wonders if genuine tears have sprung forth. He doesn't ever get to know.
  5. Death It was something Xerah couldn't quite describe. When she'd pulled the trigger she'd felt a short instance of an immeasurable amount of pain and then... she was asleep. A sleep deeper than any sense of unconsciousness she'd ever felt. It felt like ever bit of character and memory she'd ever made was being washed over by a cool, unstable current. Though her consciousness was lost and, as far as she knew her life was over, she still... felt something. As if though her body was gone... something remained. Was this what was known as a 'soul'? Wait- what was a soul? Why did that sound mean anything and relate to this situation? She didn't know; couldn't remember. It was like having a word caught on the tip of her tongue. It was like the memories were right there but... she couldn't reach them.

    In a sudden moment images began to shape in her... eyes? What was this? Primary functions suddenly returned to her and her form shot into a sitting position as her brain told her lungs to suck air through her mouth to fill them with air, but... the deep breath felt like it should've been more satisfying. Why- why did she feel like it wasn't quite what it was supposed to be?

    A sudden and wide pain suddenly pulsed on the right side of her forehead that caused the girl to lift her hand to the point of pain and feel it, as if that would help. After a moment, the pain stepped back and allowed her to think. Her eyes opened wide and she looked around herself; where was she!? The last thing she remembered was...was- she didn't known. There was nothing there. She fought for a moment, trying to grasp at what she thought was her memories but to no avail.

    With the failure of finding her memories, she began to look around her physical self. The room she found herself in was rather... disturbing. She found she was atop a table. A dirty table, with an assortment of tools around her. The floor around the table was.... disgusting. It was a checkered tile, smudged and dirtied with some sort of dark-colored muk. Her eyes traveled along the floor until they found the legs of another table, with another body on it. The girl blinked in confusion, and as she continued looking about the room she found two more tables making for a total of four, including her own. Where was she!? Was this normal? She-she didn't know. She felt like she should know, but there was no emotion for this besides confusion.

    "H-hello?" she called out in a weak and disconnected voice before immediately covering her lips with her hand, as if the noises she'd made had surprised her. For a moment she spaced-out in thought. She'd made that sound. She knew she had, and she knew what it meant, but she didn't know why. Again she fought against her mind - trying to remember something- anything! But it only resulted in her skull revolting and the pain in her head returning with a pulse of agony that made her audibly whine. What was going on!?
  6. https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/96/e2/4d/96e24dd75de9d0a3a92dc7b65aadc023.jpg

    A few moments of seeing people come towards him until that finally memory faded away into a large booming sound like water, that was nice to touch. It seemed to wrap around him like a blanket, and made him feel safe. All the bad times were being washed away. Unfortunately, the good times went with them.

    But am I good or bad. Who am I? he thought to himself, unsure of who he was. Looking down on himself, he noticed he was being hidden by things he found easy to remove.

    And then it was over.

    The feeling of someone pressing hard against one of his limbs forced him to move it. Noticing others were in the room, he absent-mindedly pulled his hood over his face. Why was he doing that? How did he know he could do that? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything. His neck was turned to one side and he couldn't seem to move it back without using his hands. What else could he use them for? And when had he used them? What was he?

    He tried to think but then he was taken over. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Constantly, he was breathing. Why did he feel like he didn't have to?

    He reached towards the edge of the table - how did he know it's name - grasping it for support. His eyes met another's. Glancing away quickly, two more sleeping. He wished to be sleeping. It looked peaceful. This room reminded him of something he knew he hated, but he wasn't sure what.

    The girl called out, but seemed surprised. He wasn't sure what that word meant, but it was something he knew how to reply to. "H-Hi." He had a similar reaction, shock to the sound of his own voice. It sounded different to what he thought it sounded like. It sounded like half was missing: lost and wishful.
  7. The Sweet Release of Death.

    This was different.. What?
    Her stomach churned as her heart began to stop. Perhaps it was because of the pills. Such a pretty assortment. She was feeling a bit sick to her stomach and she was about to turn her metaphorical light switch back on to ease the pain but, her heart stopped her before she could even take a breath. Her heart always came first.
    First, her heart, then, her mind. She was feeling bliss, but her body couldn't feel anything at all. She was at peace, but her mind was constantly battling the war, the feeling that something was wrong, that something wasn't right. She.. Was she even meant to feel so conflicted?! Then. She realized. Her life was over. This moment was her sweet release of death. This can't be happening. How did it get to this point? What's going on? Hello? Can anyone hear her? Of course not. She's dead. She can't be dead! Oh, but she is. The pain. Pain? The pain that flowed from her stomach came back! Maybe she was alive after all. But.. This pain. It's so strong, it felt as though an intestine ruptured, or perhaps, went missing from her body completely. The pain was so immense that Cadance was able to get her human movements back and sit upright in a single second. A huge gasp escaped her lips and her lungs filled with air. She opened her eyes, and that only made the pain worse. Images.. What was this? This is intriguing. What are they?.. Should she know what these things are?.. No matter, they soon faded as the churning and monstrous growling that echoed from her stomach was so overbearing that she couldn't take the pain any longer, she groaned and her body jerked.
    She fell. From what? She would tell later. All she knew was that the room she was in was completely different. How did she know? She didn't care. With a sigh and a cough, a human body's natural instinct to remove every trace of sickness that entered it was to throw it up. Out the mouth. And that is just what she did. But at least there wasn't any fluid.
    Well, wasn't that just a bit strange? At least she felt better. Wait, no, she started to freak out as she became aware of her surroundings. She got up on her own two feet and looked around. The site was confusing. The first thing that caught her eye were four tables, clearly capable of holding human bodies. Including her own. So that's where she fell from. She looked down and tilted her head, she was confused. Why did she feel guilty? This was her own body. She got to choose what happened to it and nobody else! Why.. Why did it feel like she committed murder? She looked around and found a woman and a man, acting the same way she did.

    The woman spoke and freaked out. Cadance didn't want to even attempt using her vocal chords, so, she just stayed silent, observing the awake from a distance before the pain in her stomach came back and was added with extreme dehydration, causing her to cough, breaking the silence. She put a few gentle fingers on her mouth and wondered how in the world she was able to create that sound. Then, she built up enough courage and decided that it was time to break the silence once more, copying the word of the woman.
    Her eyes widened at the sound that escaped her lips. How was she able to do that? And, what was that sound that came out of her mouth? It was so familiar, but she couldn't quite put her tongue on it. Instead, her hands reached for her throat and grabbed at it, completely shocked at her capabilities she looked towards the two people in front of her, her eyes asking if that was supposed to happen and if they heard it.

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