That one RP with the ghosts and stuff

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by KLV, Oct 12, 2012.

  1. Creepy was the best, if not the only word that could accurately describe the remains that were called home, by a slightly less creepy man. The building or what remained of it was covered in the evening shadows, all of its details lost in front of the dying sunset. Not that it was much of a sight to see, the majority of it was wasted away, eaten up by an electrical fire that may or may not have been accidental. It was difficult to tell from its current state but the building had once been a highly regarded psychiatric hospital. Those days of course were long over and the remaining land had yet to be dealt with. Still it suited the purpose of its single resident.

    One possessing a vivid imagination one would expect the ruins to be haunted, filled with the maniacal cries of its less fortunate residents forever trapped between life and death in their perpetual insanity. Lying in wait for some poor living soul to pass by and fall victim to their deranged fantasies. As soon as they entered its dead grounds they would be marked with an invisible target to alert the occupants who simply refused to move on. It was their right to unfold upon trespassers all the atrocities committed against them in life… Yet in reality no such fantasy was waiting to pass. It was exactly what it looked like…a ruined building in the middle of nowhere. Void of any other life and holding no such thrills for the curious mind. The only possible dangers the building held were in its weakening structure.
    Most of the ashes had long been blown away and what hadn’t been burned was beginning to peel and weather away. The stubs of burnt door frames here and some odd equipment there stayed to remind everyone that there once had been but that it no longer was. There was nothing particularly interesting to see unless one counted deteriorating hospital beds and charred floorboards as interesting.

    Though not without its oddities… while the fire had claimed the lives of several occupants and rendered the majority of the facility useless it remained still home to the man presently crouched on a mattress in one of the few still standing rooms, (which may or may not have been a room for shock therapy) gnawing away at a cold chicken leg he had picked up hours earlier. This was however a step up in dietary habits regardless of the repulsion of it all.

    The walls of the room were covered in numerous scratches, words which to begin with had little connection but in some spaces were carved over so many times they were indiscernible. The floor had a lace covering of dust interrupted by multiple sets of footprints all deriving from the same being. Despite the former asylum’s depressingly wasted state and lack of lighting this he claimed as his home, his ground. He had been safe within its walls for years and even after it had been flamed and abandoned he remained, either too afraid or too lazy to leave. Possibly a combination of the two, but either way the point was this was where he lived and he wasn’t planning on leaving of his own free will. Though anyone coming to remove him was highly unlikely, no one actually knew who or where he was. And it was safe to say no one cared, any soul who did happen to catch a sighting of him wrote him off as a creep that occasionally left whatever pit he came from for short intervals. Who he was, or had been had been in fact assumed to be one of the half a dozen casualties from the fire, despite a body never being found (truth be told they hadn’t looked very hard). Presumably if his family knew he was still alive they’d have tracked him down ages ago but no such search occurred and in the most likely scenario he would slowly fade into the background and kill himself off, ever in his pointlessly hidden existence.

    He tossed the picked apart bone aside and vigorously scratched the side of his neck where dried blood was caked on. It didn’t worry him because it wasn’t his and eventually it would wear off wouldn’t it? It did when it rained. When it rained all the grunge and dirt seemed to weather away. He loved the rain, but not for that reason. He loved simply standing in it and feeling the drops hit his face. And sometimes rain would gather in the basins formed from broken furnishings and equipment. He liked that too because he knew it came from the rain although it wasn’t quite as good. He liked the showers too, they were similar to rain and for a while they could be persuaded to push out what liquid they could find, but they had long since lost their purpose. So the man would sit and wait for the rain to come again.

    Few things remained in order under his watch. There was no one there to tell him to keep his bed made, or to wash his hair, or to eat a decent meal, or to not leave potentially foot killing devices lying around. Consequentially he neither kept up with his living space or his appearance leaving him a continuous mess masquerading as a human being. Unless you counted switching clothes every few days as being hygienic. Which he only did because one should never wear white on days that began with “T”…he didn’t actually have anything to keep track of the date (or time for that matter) so he left that up to guessing. He estimated today was Saturday so he had no problem putting on the worn dull cotton he had grown so used to. Again no one was around to remind him he had to take care of himself. Simple acts that he found all together were not worth the effort needed to accomplish them even should he be told to.

    For that matter no actual being spoke to him much at all. But it would be wrong to assume that he never conversed. For he regularly spoke with his ever present pink pearl…which was no longer very pink. Apparently no one had ever bothered to tell him that erasers were for erasing pencil scratches off of paper not communicating with the dead. The eraser did an excellent job of convincing him that it was a medium to his late brother however. A small trinket remaining with him as means to somehow find a tiny portion of comfort while knowing admittedly that said man was with certainty gone for good. The man still alive meanwhile remained unnoticed and undisturbed.
  2. Silvia had planned this for awhile, it was the weekend afterall she didn't have to be in school today. She was the curious type, liked to explore forgotten places. She was 17 almost an adult but with no clue as to her future. She sort of lived day by day, parents were to busy with drugs and they claimed she was the oddity. Years of abuse both mentally and physical only made her that much more stubborn, stronger more resistant to others and to society. But none of that would be happening today, she was going to have fun, maybe find something of value. She could sell it then go blow it on food that was worth eating and not what her parents thought was substance.

    Yeah when you live with criminals your bound to pick up their ways, maybe alittle it was cause of the adrenaline and you can't really be called a criminal if you don't get caught right? She was patient and stole mostly what she really needed, but also wouldn't shy away from something she wanted. But once again none of that sort would be happening today, she was bored and she wanted to explore the Asylum no one cared about. A ruin down place closed years ago. She wasn't familar with any of the details she didn't care. She was merely a curious and innocent girl nothing wrong with chasing ghosts. Nothing wrong with going to a place no one had used in years right?

    She smiled as she jogged up to the entance, she turned off her music and put her ear phones away. She tried the door and it didn't open most likely locked. That makes it to easy. She found a window and made no subtle attempt to break it with a rock she picked up. Knocking out the rest of the pieces so her slender atheletic body could fit through she helped herself through her makeshift entance and put her feet on the floor of what appeared to be an office.

    She looked around the room, she would begin her little scavenging adventure here. She went through the charred desk finding documents that were just fire starter. she did manage to find a ring the stone was violet color and it wasn't gold she hated gold silver favorite color. Maybe because her name was Silvia she always assumed that was the reason. It was just her preference. She put tried it on and it fit snuggly on her either index finger. She smiled then stepped out of the room into the blackened hallway.
  3. A slender finger traced the rough lines carved into the wall. Its owner was mumbling to himself a slew of incoherent babble that must have somewhere in the back of his brain found relevance. Him, being the only living soul ever getting within a mile of the old place was not used to new noises. He was relatively quiet and little sound was made by the slowly decaying structure. At most it would creak or moan when the wind ran by but apart from that the former asylum was hushed. Not long had he been lost in his nonsensical thoughts when a foreign crash echoed softly from somewhere below.

    The sound nearly made him jump out of his skin. He instinctively huddled and covered his ears a slight sense of fear and confusion running up with the sound. That was not normal, not at all. And it must be his duty to find the source of the disturbance and give it a good beating…or at least a good scolding. Under any less bizarre circumstances one would have to shortly admit that there had been nothing to worry about. But when you resided in an abandoned asylum…panic was simply a natural reaction to any undetermined sound. He slowly lifted his head towards the door letting his hands slip from his ears and planting them on the floor before him.

    He cautiously crawled forward across the dirty floor and poked his head out the door and began looking around the shady hallway long enough only to determine quickly that the noise had not moved up. Picking himself up and standing regularly he reached into his pocket to make sure his “pet” eraser was still where it should be. All in order, eraser in place he carefully made his way out into the open skillfully avoiding any and all weak spots that might creak or break beneath him. Whatever had made the unwelcome noise did not seem to be around, or at least it had no desire to continue its commotion nonetheless he continued down the stair to inspect what may very well be an overzealous cat.

    Whatever poor creature had intruded on his quiet evening was going to get quite the surprise…or perhaps a scare. As no one was supposed to be there odds were no one was expecting his presence. And he, looking just as close to something out of a horror move with his stringy grown our hair and skeletal figure if he had ever been remotely attractive at one point it obviously did not matter, certainly did not appear welcoming in the least. Faint footsteps echoed signifying that there was in fact another being there…unless he had imagined it all in which case he may still run into a stranger.

    However through the poor lighting in the hall he could make out a lone figure from his spot at the bottom of the staircase. He wasn’t quite sure if he should be confused or frightened that someone had broken in to his home. Whoever it was certainly wasn’t welcome seeing as they nearly gave him a heart attack. He hopped into the nearest room and peaked out from the doorway staring the female down. Although she did not seem the least bit aware that she was in his home uninvited, but he had no reason or will to approach her at that point in time…maybe if he ignored her she’d just leave on her own.
    [So sorry. I'm not a fast replyer and I'm rather busy.]
  4. "Where to next?" She spoke softly to herself, Silvia had no clue of the layout of this building. She entered the room across the one she broke into and began to sift through the pieces. This one was emptier than the previous and she was basicly in and out. She enjoyed being alone, being here where others had once stepped. The thought made her want to explore every bit of the building, find the secrets. No one would expect her to have a thirst for knowledge, she was a smart, clever girl being able to steal without being caught took alot of thought and effort that most didn't even do at the places she stole from.

    The asylum had no living people, she didn't have to worry about being caught, it was hers to plunder. She could do as she please, maybe if she found a special someone she could bring them here and show them what she had found. A special someone.... she laughed, "No one was special to her. She was as lonely as this building misused, and broken. She began to walk down the hallway taking the pathway deeper into the building. She entered a room and began to search for anything of value. She put in one earphone and turned on her hard rock music. She threw objects aside making all kinds of racket.
  5. From the shadows at the bottom of the stairs the man watched Silvia travel to another room a scowl fixed on his face. He crawled half way to the open door before rising to actually walk. That girl wasn’t even bothering to be discreet. Or careful, these walls weren’t all too strong anymore. And the most annoying distortion of music was bouncing away from her. He followed close behind in hopes that she would find nothing of interest and make her way to the exit. Yet, her escapade continued down the hall through the vacant rooms.

    He had no choice, as much as he hated to, he was going to have to confront her himself. In the best scenario he would be able to tell her to get out, in one clear sentence which would result in her complying…but the odds of that on either part were so unlikely the notion was laughable. The female intruder seemed lacking in tact and he was lacking in far more than basic social skills. He crept through the doorway like an alley cat but wasted no time in sharing his thoughts. As Silvia’s attention was occupied by something else he took the moment to interfere. He approached her quickly placing both of his hands against her and shoved her against the wall.

    As soon as his actions had been carried out the string of sounds translating to “Go away this is my place!” spilled from his mouth quicker than he had originally intended. He seemed unaware that it would be much easier for her to do so if he let go of her, but his thoughts had been at least somewhat expressed so in his opinion all was well.
    [I'm sorry, I have no explanation I'm just sorry.]