Kate

t0mb0y @ 2008-07-25T03:41:00

2008-07-25T08:42:33Z

I know, I know. I already have one of these...whatevs.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Runaway- Del Shannon

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Tonight, Tonight - Smashing Pumpkins

WHAT IS 2 + 2?
Maybe - Annie

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Stripped - Shiny Toy Guns

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Alive - Jekyll and Hyde (Well, that's good to know!)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Do it Again - Beach Boys

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Two Sleepy People - Julie London

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
The Flower Market - My Fair Lady

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Blue Christmas - Elvis Presley

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Memory - CATS

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Chilly Down - David Bowie

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Buddy Holly - Weezer

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Moonlight Sonatat - Ludwig van Beethoven

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Unchained Melody - Air Supply

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
She Blinded Me With Science - Thomas Dolby

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Home Sweet Home - Motley Crue

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
One Night - Elvis Presley (Hahaha that's true. If you don't know the song, look up the lyrics, Dana.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST MATE?
Sweet Transvestite - Tim Curry (WooHoo!!)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Born To Have It All - Katie Irving

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Misery - The Moffatts (that's depressing)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
The End of the World - Skeeter Davis

More
How does the world see you?
Hot Blooded - Foreigner (Hehehe)
Will I have a happy life?
Mr. Tambourine Man - The Byrds
Do people secretly lust after me?
Everybody - Backstreet Boys (Oh, man!!!)
How can I make myself happy?
December 1963 - Four Seasons
What should I do with my life?
Little Bitty Pretty One - Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers
What is some good advice for me?
Still Rock'n'Roll to Me - Billy Joel
How will I be remembered?
Love Theme - Vangelis (From Blade Runner)
What is my signature dancing song?
Campfire Song Song - Spongebob Squarepants (Holy crap, it is. I sing this in class!)
What do I think my current theme song is?
Here I Go Again - Whitesnake
What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Two Dozen and One Greyhounds - The Simpsons
What type of men/women do you like?
My Gallant Crew / I Am the Captain of the Pinafore / Sir You Are Sad - Gilbert And Sullivan (From HMS Pinafore...um, what?)
What is my day going to be like?
Homeward Bound [Live] - Simon and Garfunkel
What will tomorrow bring?
You Don't Own Me - The Blow Monkeys

One last one ;)

The next time you stand up in front of a group of people, you'll say:
When Time Stood Still - Electric Light Orchestra

Your favorite thing to say when drunk is:
Diamond Dogs - David Bowie (hehehe)

Your message to the world:
Carmen: Camen! Sur Tes Pas, Nous Nous Pressions Tous! (Choeur - Carmen - Jose) - Choeurs De La Radiodiffusion Francaise, Janine Micheau, Nicolai Gedda, Orchestre National De La Radiodiffusion Francaise, Sir Thomas Beecham & Victoria De Los Angeles (If anyone's confused...it's Carmen. That all you need know.)

Your deepest secret:
Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On - Little Richard (not really a secret!)

Your innermost desire:
This Little Light of Mine - Gospel Dream

Your oldest memory makes you think:
Sue's Dream - Pino Donaggio (From Carrie)

Somewhere in your wedding vows, you'll include:
Top Hat, White Tie and Tails - Fred Astaire and Irving Berlin (lol!)

On your deathbed, you'll whisper:
Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh - Phantom of the Opera Original Cast Recording (Damn straight! And I'm talking about Death!)

Your friends say behind your back:
I Have Seen the Rain - Pink feat. John T. Moore

You say behind your friends' back:
Hollywood Nocturne - The Ghastly Ones

Your opinion of MySpace:
The Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson (heh, yeah right!)

When you wake up in the morning, you mutter:
Across the Stars - John Williams (Aw, that's so pretty!)

If you found yourself lost on a desert island, you'd yell:
It Was Always You, Helen - Philip Glass (from the Candyman soundtrack. Fantastic album!)

Right now, your feelings are:
Pictures of You - Jay Ferguson And 16mm (Yes, another from the Terminator soundtrack, Dana!)

What's your excuse for reposting this bulletin?:
Don't Cry for me Argentina - Sarah Brightman

Your life's soundtrack:
Take My Breath Away - Berlin (God! This thing is making me feel like a slut!)

Your farewell message to the readers of this bulletin:
The Way You Look Tonight - Fred Astaire and Dorothy Fields (God, I love this song.)

Lovestyle!

2008-07-14T07:27:58Z

I took the "Love Style" quiz on gURL.com
		I am... Eros/Red John Alan Lee would identify you as the classic red-blooded lover: passionate, abandoned and a great admirer of physical beauty. Ah, the romantic, the prime target of Cupid's arrow. Read more... What's your love style?

Dreidel

2008-03-20T05:22:41Z

Found this in cormak's journal:

Directions:
1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Y.M.C.A. (Village People)

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Get Off My Cloud (The Rolling Stones)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Mr. Blue Sky (Electric Light Orchestra)

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Hateful (The Clash)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Will You Love Me Tomorrow (The Shirelles)

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Flat on the Floor (Nickelback)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Get Another Boyfriend (Backstreet Boys)

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Roxanne (The Police)--Uh, oh! lol

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
I'm Too Sexy (Right Said Fred)--I forgot I had this!

WHAT IS 2 + 2?
Bein' Green (Kermit the Frog)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Unchained Melody (Righteous Brothers)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Love Led Us Here (Muppet Treasure Island)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Earth Angel (Marvin Berry and the Starlighters)

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Pagliacci: "Recitar!"..."Vesti la giubba" (Luciano Pavarotti)

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Fashion (David Bowie)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
I'll Never Fall in Love Again (Carpenters)--That's a downer.

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
With You (Chris Brown)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST??
(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction (The Rolling Stones)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Scales and Arpeggios (The Aristocats)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
A Lover's Concerto (The Toys)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Let Him Know (Bryan Adams)

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Dreidel (Don McLean)

Blade Runner Personality Profile

2008-03-02T21:51:20Z

I took this test twice because the first time I took it, I thought my result was kind of generic...turns out the second set of results were kind of, too! Oh, well...

I am Rick Deckard.

Once upon a time, you were considered the best of the best. In your mind, you just wanted to do your job in the best way possible.
Unfortunately, you got jaded and tired of all the bullshit. While you could do tremendous things, you are hobbled by the powers that be. It may be time to set out on your own path, if you can get past the bitterness.

A time of flux is coming, if it has not already arrived. You will get your chance to shine, and whether you sink or swim will be on your shoulders.

Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.

I am Roy Batty.

A wise man once said that there is a fine line between genius and insanity. This describes you to a T.
Many who know you do not understand you; they don't understand that your deep convictions and feelings are not the kind of things that are easily contained.

You are not one to let others stand in your way. Some may take that as agressiveness or sociopathy. You take it as drive, and a desire to get what you want.

But take the words of your creator to heart:

--The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long.--

And you have burned so very brightly.

Live To Tell

2008-02-21T05:34:00Z

“You have paid full fair, so I’ll carry you through,

For it’s only right you should have your due.

Why, the laborer always expects his hire,

So I’ll land you safe in the lake of fire,

“Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar,

And my imps torment you forevermore.”

-The Hellbound Train

CHAPTER FOUR

We stood silently for a brief moment, as if he was giving time to take in what he had just said. His head was turned away from me and I had no idea how to react. He had completely shattered any hope I previously had of finding Tiffany. I couldn't understand why.

"No?" I asked dumbly, a wave of disbelief washing over me. "...what do you mean...no...?"

His head snapped in my direction and glared at me. His eyes had become so dark. It was almost as if his pupil had expanded to encompass his entire iris. This was it. This was the evil that had created the monster.

The room had grown so cold. I felt as if I were choking.

And in a blink, his eyes had returned to normal, and his face softened. He turned his head down and ran a hand through his hair, obviously searching for the words to say. I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to anger him again.

"Kirsty," he said, finally, "Tiffany is not here."

I could literally feel the blood drain from my face.

She wasn’t here? Then where was she?

"But I saw--"

"She was never here," he continued, cutting me off. "I'm afraid you've fallen victim to the Lament Configuration."

She was never…

I felt like crying. I felt like screaming. I felt like pulling out my hair and banging my fists on the floor and taking Elliot Spencer, or whatever the fuck his name was, and beating him over and over again until it made sense.

"You mean...you mean she was never...she wasn't here?" I could hear my own voice crack. "Ever?"

He made no reply.

"Then where is she?" It didn't make sense. "You're lying! No one has seen her for weeks."

He must be lying! She had to be here! She certainly wasn’t in the “real” world, that was for damn sure.

Faster than I could have ever imagined, he strode towards me and shoved me down onto to the bed, pinning me under his weight and grabbing me by the shoulders. His eyes went straight through me.

"Did you learn nothing from your first visit?" His voice was a venomous whisper. I felt his fingers biting into the flesh at my collarbone. "We all have our own hell."

I've come for my father!

But he is in his own Hell, child, and quite unreachable.

I don't believe you!

But it's true. He is in his own Hell, just as you are in yours.

I felt like dying. I was going to die. And so was Tiffany. I had failed Tiffany. I had failed her.

"But..." I looked up at him and chose my words carefully. His grip had loosened considerably, but he was still rigid and pressing me down onto the mattress. "...but then how did I get here?"

"You may enter another's hell, but only if they allow it," Captain Spencer said calmly. "The first time you visited hell, your uncle, Frank, he invited you into his hell, but your father did not. That is why you were unable to reach him."

I nodded, trying to grasp what he had just said. His face had become expressionless and his eyes were staring at me, but they weren't focused on me. He seemed to be in a trance.

"Why did it bring me here, then?"

My question snapped him out of his reverie. "I don't know, quite frankly. Although, he might be trying to..." He trailed off and his eyes glossed over again.

"Being trying to what?"

"Not long ago, I brought another here. I had hoped that she might help me capture the beast."

I racked my mind. "Joey?"

For the first time, he smiled faintly. His hands had slipped away from my neck, and I could feel his fingers playing with my hair. "Yes, Joey.” The smile fell from his lips. “I'm sad to say, she didn't quite succeed."

I shuddered involuntarily. She didn't quite succeed. I could only assume that meant I probably wouldn't quite succeed, either.

“So what am I?” I finally asked.

He looked down at me thoughtfully. “I suppose you would be the other half.”

Other half of what?

As if he had read my thoughts, he explained further. “Like it is to me, you would have been to Joey.”

It to him? It? As in, IT—it?

“So I’m a pawn?” God, my head hurt so much. “I’m here to…to…?”

Captain Spencer sighed and finally pulled back from me. It wasn’t until then that I noticed the tingling sensation in my legs. He had been lying on top of me so long that my feet had fallen asleep. He shifted to where he could sit on the bed and look down at me. I stayed were I was.

“It would seem that he brought you here to help dispose of me,” he said, coolly.

He was being so calm about the whole situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t seem concerned, but had I been in his place, I doubt that I would have wanted to be in the room with my eliminator. Hell, I didn’t want to be in the same room with him earlier, and he had been trying to help me!

I eventually found my voice. “So what do you suggest I do?”

“Well, I—”

His voice cut off as the atmosphere suddenly changed. We both watched as the light gradually dissipated. Before I knew it, the light was completely gone and I was left alone in the darkness. The warmth from the captain’s body had disappeared and was instead replaced by an arctic chill.

It was then that I heard the bells.

Chapter 5

Chapter 3

Live To Tell

2008-02-19T05:33:48Z

Tell me the story simply,

As to a little child,

For I am weak and weary,

And helpless and defiled.

-Tell Me the Old, Old Story

CHAPTER THREE

“Here, allow me.”

I shrank back as Captain Spencer reached out a hand to touch my bleeding face. For a moment a caught a glimpse of annoyance behind his eyes, but I didn’t care. Regardless of whether it had actually been him who had hurt me, a version of him was responsible for the state I was in.

“Please,” he tried again, this time reaching for my side, “let me help you.”

I let out a deep breath that I had been holding, and winced as a sharp pain shot through me. Perhaps it would be better if I allowed the captain to treat my wounds.

I looked at him wearily for a long moment before finally giving in.

“…okay.”

He didn’t exactly smile at me, but his face softened and an odd glint came to his eyes. I say odd because it was almost kind…not something that you’d expect from his other half. He turned away from me for a moment and started digging through a chest on the other side of the room. When he returned, he was holding a small box in his hands.

“What’s that?” I asked, noting how he seemed more concentrated on getting me better as opposed to making conversation.

“It’s first-aid supplies,” he replied, opening the box and never looking up.

“Oh.”

I felt kind of stupid. Here he was, helping me, and I didn’t even know why. Not only that, but I had given him a hard time. I started wondering if it was my reluctance to trust him that was making him distant, or if he was just that way naturally.

“Ow!”

Again I felt stupid as he finally did look up at me, a somewhat surprised expression gracing his features. He had applied pressure to the place on my left side, where a hook had been embedded in my stomach. The semi-bewildered look on his face made me feel as though I was weak and had overreacted…which only led to me being more self-conscience and defensive.

“What?” I snapped at him.

His eyes dropped down. “Nothing. It’s just been a long time since I’ve heard someone actually exclaim the word ‘ow’…generally they are just screaming.”

We both fell into an awkward silence as his hands moved up to my ribs and began feeling.

Damn, damn, damn.

He was going to have to remove the shirt.

“I’m going to need you to—“

“Yeah,” I cut him off, “just a sec.”

I pulled the tee shirt up over my head, strangely feeling embarrassed. I shouldn’t have. It’s not that I’m horribly conceited and I think that I have the perfect body, but given the situation at hand, humiliation at having the captain see me in my plain, lace bra should have been the last thing on my mind. Luckily for me, he paid no mind, just like a true gentlemen, and began dressing my wounds.

I leaned back on the cot, and began to relax as he applied various ointments and wrappings. His hands were warm and rough, which somewhat surprised me. I knew he was in the military, but his clean-cut features and well-behaved manners made him seem like a pillar of aristocracy, so I would have guessed his hands to be smooth. As for the idea of them being cold, it could have been suggested by the attitude in which he dealt with me, or perhaps it was simply put in my mind by the cool, frosted color of his eyes.

“I’m sorry but could you please lean your head a little to the left?”

Oh, shit!

I nearly choked when I realized that I had been subconsciously leaning myself into the hand which rested on my neck. I made sure not to make any eye contact with him and instead stared over his shoulder. It was actually pretty easy, because he seemed adamant about not acknowledging my presence.

I was a project, a puzzle. I was his new problem to solve. As soon as he had me fixed, he could leave me alone.

His hand slid down my neck and across my shoulder, making gooseflesh rise at his fingertips. I drew in a quick breath as he drug one finger up the side of my face and gently began to examine the last injury, the gash below my eye.

Taking two fingers, and nudging me to look up, he thoroughly cleaned my cut. In no time, he had a patch of gauze taped to my cheek. When his work was done, he instantly withdrew his hands from me and scooted back several feet.

“Thank you,” I said, honestly meaning it.

Captain Spencer said nothing, only nodded his head and went to put the first-aid box back in his trunk.

“Um…”

The captain turned back to look at me, waiting for me to continue.

“I had asked earlier why you brought me here.”

“Yes?”

That’s not the answer I wanted.

“Well, why did you bring me here?”

He closed the trunk and walked towards me, scratching his chin as if he had to ask himself that same question.

“Well, for one, you’re not safe out there.”

What?

“Out where?”

“Out there,” he pointed to the side of him, “and there,” this time behind him, “and everywhere else, for that matter. You are not safe anywhere. No one is. Hell is a dangerous place, and it can be an even more dangerous place when you’re the main prize.”

“Main prize? I’m just here to rescue Tiffany.”

At this, his head snapped sharply in my direction, and I sat up straighter. I was reminded of when I was a child and I knew my father was about to punish me. It wasn’t a very good feeling.

“Tiffany?”

“Yes,” I answered, “Tiffany. I’ve been having dreams about her. She’s here…suffering.”

For a moment he said nothing, but eventually replied, “I see.”

Not for the first time in my life, my curiosity got the better of me. “Why are you here?”

He looked at me thoughtfully, and responded, “The same reason you are, Kirsty. My curiosity got the better of me.”

Slightly startled by his answer, I nodded, pretending to understand better than I truthfully did. “Did you find the box?”

”You know as well as I do that the box finds you.”

This time I nodded, fully understanding the meaning of his words. “And it turned you into h—that thing?”

He didn’t reply, and he didn’t have to. I understood things a little better now, but I still wanted answers.

“I need to find Tiffany. Can you help me?”

Captain Spencer straightened up a bit and looked directly at me with those biting blues eyes.

“No.”

Chapter 4

Chapter 2

Wizard of Oz Personality Profile

2008-02-12T03:24:08Z

Which 'Wizard of Oz' Character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Dorothy

You're just a little Kansas farm girl at heart. Like Dorothy, you have some weird friends, and everything looks a little too familiar sometimes. But, with the help of people who have eaten way too much sugar, good witches, and some bitchin' shoes, you'll get home just fine.

Scarecrow

56%

Dorothy

56%

The Wizard

38%

Tin Man

38%

Wicked Witch

31%

Glinda the Good

25%

Munchkin

25%

Cowardly Lion

25%

Jesus Wept

2007-09-12T04:13:42Z

Spirits come and spirits go
Broken hearts are filled with woe
From the life that we once knew
Shared and led by one like you.

You helped to make a blindman see
And then, you too, would weep for me
So that I could feel a bit of pain
You knew the ignorance would remain
I know your promises, they were true
And now I weep for myself, too.

Memories we hold so dear
Let us shed one final tear.
For your candle, we keep lit.
All the hearts you touched and met
Lessons they won't soon forget.

Now your father weeps for you.
And your mother, she weeps, too.
For your message, it rings true.
Jesus wept for souls like you.

Live To Tell

2007-09-03T23:10:20Z

Of those whose anxious spirits burn

With strong desires for thy return!

This robe of flesh I’ll drop, and rise

To seize the everlasting prize…

-Sweet Hour of Prayer

CHAPTER TWO

Ow. Ow. OW!

“Son a of a bitch!”

I had two hooks stuck in my left side. One was up near my ribs, and the other was a little lower. One hook had caught the skin right below the corner of my right eye on my cheek. There was one in my back, and I think there was one on the side of my neck. I couldn’t really tell. It all hurt too much.

But how?

I thought that all of my concentration had been focused on the box. I had been so bent on saving Tiffany, I had been careless.

I could feel the beaded sweat on my forehead, sliding down my face and dripping onto my chest. My breathing was surprisingly shallow for the situation I was in. I would have thought I’d have hyperventilated by now. My pulse was racing, though; a sure sign that I was still alive.

What am I doing?!

Why was I thinking about stupid stuff like that! In a few minutes I would probably be wishing that the hooks had killed me!

Where is he?

I had felt him when the hooks arrived, but I could see him anywhere in the room. Room? No, this wasn’t the room that I had rented when I arrived in Boston. This was different. It looked like…

A dungeon! Oh, shit! Oh, shit, shit, SHIT!

I was in hell! But how? The last time I had gone to hell, I had to enter out of my own free will!

“As you did this time.”

Oh, God…

He was behind me! I couldn’t see him!

My breathing completely halted as I heard him taking steps towards me. He sounded so close! But I couldn’t tell where he was because I couldn’t turn my head around. I tried to tilt my face in the direction of his voice, hoping that maybe I could catch a glimpse of him, but the razor-sharp hook tore at the tender skin of my neck.

“Oh, Kirsty…” His voice was almost bad as the hooks. It kept me in place and tore through me with its mocking familiarity. “When will you learn, child?”

I clenched my eyes shut, and felt hot tears squeeze themselves from between the lids. It hurts! But I couldn’t give up now! Tiffany needed me!

“How did you come back?”

“Hmm?”

I hate him! I absolutely hate him! How could he be so nonchalant about this! He was human once! He told me he remembered! He saved my life! What had happened?

“HOW DID YOU COME BACK?”

Stupid! I shouldn’t yell at him. The last thing I needed to do was make him angry.

“You can thank my dear friend, Joey, for that.”

What? Joey? Who’s Joey? Is that even relevant? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.

“Where is Tiffany?”

“Hmm?”

That’s it.

“WHERE IS SHE?"

Nothing.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH HER?"

Still nothing.

"YOU’RE A GOD DAMNED MONSTER!”

For a moment there was a long silence.

“God? Yes. Damned? Quite. Monster? Perhaps.”

Damnation! This was getting nowhere!

“She is here.”

Huh?

“Where?”

Where? Where? Where? Where?

“You ask for too many questions.”

Never had I felt anything so…terrible. It burned. It felt like me skin was being peeled off, which, actually, wouldn’t be far from the truth. The hooks had suddenly tightened, and ripped through me. Several, like the one near my eye and the one on my stomach, had simply tore through the skin, leaving small little gashes. The others, however, pulled with them large amounts of flesh, and left my body bloody and raw.

I fell onto my back and I silently sobbed as my blood pooled around me.

“You wish to see her?”

I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me from overhead. A small curve of the lips, almost a smirk, graced his mouth, but his eyes were cold and hollow. I knew that if I opened my mouth, a scream would be the only thing I could say, so I bit my lips and tried my best to nod my head. It ended up just being a slight head jiggle.

Oh, my head hurts!

“I shall bring her to you.”

I said nothing.

His footsteps echoed throughout the empty dungeon as he left me in the darkness. Darkness? I suppose the light must follow his presence. Either that, or he felt I didn’t deserve any. Probably the latter.

What the hell was I going to do? I was going to die here! I knew that from the start, though, didn’t I? Maybe that’s why I came here. I wanted to die. I wanted to get it over with. There was no reason for me to be around any longer.

My father was gone. I missed him every day, even though the last time I had seen “him”, he was about to kill me.

Tiffany, of course. Gentle Tiffany. That’s a riot, huh? I love her so much. I consider her one of my best friends, and I haven’t spoken to her in two years. Yeah, my social life is shit. I hadn’t even been with a guy since…

Steve. Oh, Steve. He didn’t stand a chance against my fucked-up life. And he had tried to. He tried to understand my problems. But I can’t blame him for leaving. I think I probably would have looked the other way, too. Who would honestly want to be someone who was such a…a…

Nut.

“Tell me you’re not giving up yet.”

Despite my pain, I was alert instantly, sitting up in the darkness. The voice had come from in front of me this time. I squinted.

With distinct sound of a match being lit, I suddenly could see a face in the darkness.

“You…”

“Yes, me.” The man grinned. It was him! But him before he was him.

“You’re…you’re…”

“Captain Elliot Spencer,” he bowed, “at your service.”

I looked around. The room was suddenly lit up as if someone had flipped a switch. But it wasn’t the dungeon…it was…

“Oh! Where are we now?”

“What?” Captain Spencer looked at me, puzzled. “Oh! Right! This. Yes. Welcome to my hell.”

This place didn’t look so bad. It just looked like the inside of a military tent or a bunker or something.

“This is your hell?”

“Oh, well, it doesn’t look so bad now, but you just give it time.”

“Why am I here?”

Captain Spencer scratched his chin for a moment, and then replied, “Well…because you opened the box.”

Okay…

“Yes, but why am I here. Specifically.”

“Because I brought you here.”

I guess that’s a little better.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Suddenly, his face clouded over and his eyes became dark. “Please take a seat.”

I took a seat on a cot and waited for him to do the same.

Chapter 3

Chapter 1

t0mb0y @ 2007-09-01T16:28:00

2007-09-01T21:27:10Z

Drawing One

Drawing Two

Live To Tell

2007-09-01T01:51:37Z

Kirsty dreams of Tiffany's suffering, and she's willing to go through hell to get her back. PinheadxKirsty.

Our Father, which art in Heaven,

Hallowed be thy Name.

Thy Kingdom come.

Thy will be done,

in earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive the trespasses,

As we forgive them that trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;

But deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,

Forever and ever.

Amen.

CHAPTER ONE

Sixteen days.

It had been sixteen days since I had gotten a decent night’s sleep. Fourteen since I had left England. And two years since I had spoken to Tiffany.

Tiffany.

She was the reason I was here in the first place.

About seventeen days ago, I began having dreams that involved the quiet blonde. In fact, they were centered around her; she starred in them, much to my dismay. Not that I have anything against Tiffany, no. We had been good friends back in the day; living in Channard’s asylum, battling hell, killing my stepmother and such. It’s just what would happen in the dreams that upset me.

Every night when I would go to bed, I would immediately fall into a deep sleep. It was almost like I skipped R.E.M. I would just start dreaming as soon as my eyes closed. And then I would dream of Tiffany…and her pain. Mostly I would dream of her pain.

And I could feel it.

Not physically, of course, but I could see it in her face; in the way her body would react to every little thing. Her eyes would roll back in her head, and her face would contort into another person’s face. A person I didn’t know. A person who had lived too long and seen too much of the world.

I could hear her, too.

Shy and quiet little Tiffany, always contemplative, always silent, shrieking and wailing into the night and into my dreams. Her screams stayed with me through the day. Her face disappeared when I opened my eyes, but her voice, her voice that haunted me because it was so rare to hear, and certainly never at that volume, sat at the back of my mind and reminded me of her pain.

It was almost as bad as the smell.

That putrid, coppery smell that hung in my nostrils after I’d wake…her blood seemed to stain my sheets, and waves of nausea would make me run to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet until both the smell and feeling subsided.

It was hell. Literally.

I would dream of Tiffany in hell, and I knew it was hell, because I could sense him.

I never saw him, and I never heard him, but from the fear in Tiffany's eyes, I could tell it was him that was doing this to her. I had seen that fear many times before, and had even felt it myself. Once a person knows that fear, they never forget it. Luckily, I had never been seriously injured on my several hellish journeys.

But I had seen others hurt, and I had seen the damage it could do.

My father had been killed because of Uncle Frank.

Uncle Frank.

Julia, Channard, my uncle Frank; they had all been obsessed. Obsessed with pain, obsessed with the box.

The box.

I could understand why they would be obsessed with the box. For those short periods of time that I held the puzzling cube between my fingertips, I felt the power it emitted, and understood why someone could be so driven to possess it.

I think that's how he got there.

I speak of him, but it's not him that I mean. I mean him before he was him. I think he was a general or a captain or something. He's obviously old, but lived recently enough as a human to have his photograph taken. I'd say he was in World War I rather than World War II, the uniform looks a little dated for the 1940s, but I could be wrong.

Maybe he was a Nazi...that would explain a few things.

I should have looked further into the notes that Channard took. Channard. That disgusting bastard.

He killed Tiffany’s mother; or at least that’s what she told me. And what reason would Tiffany have to lie? The doctor was just a sick fuck.

Who would willingly become one of those? Those demons. Those monsters. What had he called them? Angels?

I wonder if they prefer “of pain” or “death”.

I don’t even think Uncle Frank would have willingly become one of those…things. The last time I saw him, he didn’t seem to be too thrilled with his situation. And he hadn’t looked like one of them.

Yet.

I guess that could have changed. But he’ll never get the chance. Not now.

But that was in the past. Right now the task at hand was finding Tiffany. Poor, innocent Tiffany, whose location was unknown. The administration of the college she attended said she had been to class in a month…and they didn’t know where she was.

Stupid fucks.

You would think that if a student hadn’t been attending class, and they didn’t drop the class, not mention the fact no one had seen them for a month, that someone would get the clue something was up. Something bad.

The box had been surprisingly easy to find. Articles describing horrible cases of people getting their skin ripped off, hooks appearing from unknown places, and a sudden increase in disappearances had aided me in my quest. The articles led me to a little town on the outskirts of Boston. How the box got there, I don’t know. But I now I had it.

That had actually more difficult than tracking down the box. The little shit who had it tried to sell it to me for quite less than that monstrosity was worth, but still a considerable amount of money. Several carefully chosen threats had quickly lowered the price, and before I knew it, I had it in my possession once more.

And now, here I was, sitting in the cheap motel room I was renting, sitting at the head of the bed, the box laying before me. I had dressed for the occasion.

Nothing fancy, just jeans and sneakers. I wanted to have as much of an advantage as I possibly could. I didn’t have any weapons, though. What good would they do? How does one battle the demons of hell with a knife? They don’t. The only weapon I had was my mind, and the little cube lying before me. And the cube could both aide me or destroy me. That’s where my mind came in.

I picked up the puzzle and just stared at it for a moment. It had destroyed so many lives. I had solved it before, but what made me think that I was so amazing I could do it again? Who’s to say I wouldn’t just kill myself and Tiffany would be left to rot, or worse, to suffer, in hell for all eternity. I had to be strategic.

But I just want Tiffany.

My hands began sliding over the patterned, metal surface, feeling each small crevice with the pads of my fingers. They seemed to have a mind of their own, rotating, pushing, sliding back and forth against the gold.

Tiffany. Tiffany. Tiffany.

It began to open.

That’s good. Open. Open for me. Take me in.

It opened further, and I smiled as the cube seemed to give up.

But the smile fell from my lips, and from them erupted a harsh howl of pain as I felt a hook embed itself in my side.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

Chapter 2

Calvin Klein Icons

2007-08-20T01:03:16Z

55 Calvin Klein Icons

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Icons

2007-08-19T03:30:12Z

Credit and comments are appreciated.

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1-2 10th Kingdom
3 Bruce Campbell
4-6 Munkustrap (CATS)
7 Carousel
8 Casablanca
9-10 Gene Kelly
11-12 Miroslav Klose
13 Hermione/Voldemort
14 Lucius/Bellatrix
15 Bellatrix Lestrange
16 Lucius Malfoy
17-18 Lily Potter
19 The Phantom of the Opera (Original Cast Recording)
20-23 Jack Davenport
24 George W. Bush
25 The Silence of the Lambs
26 Snoopy
27 The Muppets
28 Disco

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1 10th Kingdom
2 An American Werewolf in London
3 Miroslav Klose
4 The Lorax
5 The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Disney)
6-8 Tex Avery's Wolf
9 Obidala
10 Snoopy

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Moonlight Icons!

2007-08-18T23:46:54Z

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Gary and Beth's Final Lair and Curtain call - part 2

2007-08-03T04:52:03Z

I love this. The stage version is so much better than the movie. I love Gary Mauer...but not as much as Michael Crawford!

Lily Evans and the Boy Who Lived

2007-08-03T04:07:22Z

Title: Lily Evans and the Boy Who Lived
Author: Katherine (t0mb0y)
Rating: PG-13, Possible R
Warning: Deathly Hallow spoilers
Pairing: Severus Snape/Lily Evans
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Lily Evans is sent forward in time to her son's first year at Hogwarts, where she comes face to face with an older, extremely bitter Severus Snape.
Diclaimer: Harry Potter and characters are belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and Scholastic Publishing.

The letter arrived at 12:01 PM on Saturday, July 31, 1977. To Mr. and Mrs. Evans, it didn't seem unusual that their youngest daughter, Lily, was receiving a letter via owl. In fact, Lily had received many letters over the past six years through owl post, a very common way of communication in the wizarding world. Only Petunia, Lily's older sister, who hadn't been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, complained about Lily's somewhat unusual means of magical contact.

Petunia, who looked very little like her auburn-haired sister, took joy in criticizing the ways of magic folk. "Freaks" she called them. "Shady" and "untrustworthy" were two of her favorite words to describe their way of life.

To Lily, it was obvious why her sisters made such comments. The begrudging mindset came from their parents’ favoritism towards Lily. Often times, she would try to ignore her sister's crabbiness, and smile in light of the feelings she held towards her, but it wasn't always easy. Most of the time she would just ignore her sister completely and go to the comforting presence of her best friend, Severus.

Severus Snape, whose greasy black hair and bat-like appearance made him a target for humiliation and exile, lived down the street from the Evans in Spinner's End. He had been the one to inform Lily of her magical abilities. Lily had been friends with him until their fifth year at Hogwarts, when he made the mistake of calling her a "filthy little mudblood".

Lily's muggle-bloodline and Severus' association with known muggle-haters had put a strain on their relationship since the beginning of school, but it was this remark that had been the final straw. Lily had broken off all communication with Severus, and refused Severus every time he begged for forgiveness.

When Lily began dating James Potter, Severus' sworn enemy at Hogwarts, things got even more difficult. Despite her pleas, James took any opportunity to fight with or hex Snape. The juvenile behavior added even more friction between the ex-best friends, and it looked as though Lily and Severus would never reconcile.

Now Lily was going to be attending her final year of Hogwarts, and if she ever wanted to patch things up between her and Severus, this would have to be the year.

She smiled as an exhausted owl dropped an oddly shaped object on her bed and hobbled across her desk to where Petunia had left a bowl of chips. The owl looked down at the salted food and then raised its eyes back up to Lily, as if asking permission.

"Go ahead," Lily told the owl. "I just hope that junk food doesn't kill you."

The owl munched away happily and Lily grabbed the package from the bed, leaning back against her headboard and making herself comfortable. She tore the brown paper off of the parcel, and furrowed her brow.

Someone had sent her an hourglass.

Lily pulled the paper completely off the hourglass, and turned it over several times, searching for some small clue as to who could have sent this. There was none.

Lily shrugged and threw the paper aside, picking up the hourglass again, and began to study it. For the most part, there was nothing exceptional about the design. It had a plain, black frame, and the sand was a dark, purple color; it was almost black. It was a slight disappointment. Lily had been hoping it had been from James.

"Lily!"

Lily nearly dropped the hourglass as Petunia shrieked her name and stormed into the room. "That...thing is eating my chips!"

Petunia began screaming as the owl began flapping its wings and screeching at her. Lily rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to reassure her sister that there were more chips in the pantry, when the owl knocked the bowl off the desk and it shattered.

Petunia's eyes suddenly grew big and she stopped screaming. Instead, a deadly look crossed her face, and she grabbed Lily's pogo stick that was leaning against the wall.

"I'm going to kill you!"

"Petunia, don't!"

Lily immediately jumped off the bed, setting the hourglass on the desk, and ran towards her sister, grabbing her arms. They struggled against each other, Petunia wanting to destroy the feathered fiend in the bedroom, and Lily wanting to keep her sister from doing anymore damage than was already done.

They continued to battle until Petunia suddenly froze. Her face paled considerably, and Lily let go of her arms.

"What?"

Petunia didn't reply, she just continued to stare past Lily, a horrified expression plastered on her face.

Lily turned around and was shocked, as well. The hourglass was glowing.

"I must have accidentally flipped it when I set it down," Lily explained.

"What's it doing?"

"I dunno."

"Oh, well, that's just great!" Petunia snapped.

"Hush!" Lily replied, and she crept towards the gleaming object. It seemed to have a pulse; it would grow brighter and then dim again, radiating a violet lambency.

Lily reached her hand out to touch it, ignoring Petunia's frantic, "What are you doing!"

From the brightness of the glow coming off the hourglass, she would have expected it to be warm, but the glass was ice-cold. Literally. The glass felt like it had been frozen.

The glass melted under Lily's touch, and purple liquid began to run down her arms, spreading quickly and burning as it did so.

"Petunia! Go get Mom and-"

The cry caught in her throat and she watched her purple hands begin to disappear. Her flesh turned to sand, and the hourglass pulled this new sand into itself. Petunia gawked as her sister began to fade until the hourglass had completely reformed itself.

The owl hooted, grabbed the hourglass, and flew out through the window, leaving the broken bowl of chips at Petunia’s feet.

The Great Gatsby

2007-06-16T07:24:43Z

He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

Women in Love

2007-06-16T07:19:48Z

Her fingers went over the mould of his face, over his features. How perfect and foreign he was -- ah how dangerous! Her soul thrilled with complete knowledge. This was the glistening, forbidden apple, this face of a man. She kissed him, putting her fingers over his face, his eyes, his nostrils, over his brows and his ears, to his neck, to know him, to gather him in by touch.

Taking Things for Granted- Chapter Three

2007-06-06T05:21:33Z

Chills ran through Sarah as she sat beside Jareth in the ballroom. It was exactly as it had been the last time she was there.

Wait. Was I here? Sarah thought to herself, trying to decide whether or not it had really been a dream.

Maybe it was a premonition.

A glance at what was to be.

Sarah glanced around the room and was startled as she eyes, peering from behind a skull mask. The eyes captivated her, and held her stare, until the owner twirled with his dancing partner and broke the spell.

"Are you feeling well?"

Jareth's voice broke Sarah out of her trance, and she turned her attention to the king, who was currently focused on carving what appeared to be some sort of steak.

As if you care. "I'm okay."

"Good," the Fae replied, dabbing his lips with a cloth and leaving Sarah to sit alone.

Sarah could feel the eyes of the rest of the guests looking at her, trying to catch a glimpse of their future queen when they thought she wasn't looking. She knew, though. She felt one pair of eyes focusing on her in particular.

The suffocating feeling was becoming almost too much to handle. Sarah tried focusing on the patterns of the tablecloth in front of her. She brought her hands up to her temples, and rubbed frantically, not daring to look up.

"It really isn't that bad if you dip it in that red sauce."

Sarah's head snapped up, and she looked behind her to find out who was addressing her.

You. "What?"

The young bounty hunter smiled and pointed at the dish in front of her.

"The meat. I said it's not so bad with the red sauce."

Sarah looked down at her dinner. A rather large piece of meat sat, untouched, on her plate. She had felt to nauseous to even attempt to take a bite.

"Well, I doubt that even the red sauce could make it appetizing to me at the moment."

Hogan's smiles faltered slightly, and he drew back the chair next to his future queen.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Yes," replied Sarah, taking the chair from him, and pushing it back in.

Was this guy dumb?

Sarah could not believe what was happening. Not even two hours ago, this stranger had broken into her house. She had found him leaning over her brother's crib, and chased him into her own closet. Apparently, unknown to her, she had a magic closet that led to an oubliette. This man had then told Sarah that he could lead her out of the oubliette, but had actually just brought her into a bigger one. Now, here he was being friendly and polite, as if to strike up a conversation.

"Well, I won't have it!" Sarah said aloud.

Hogan looked up from the floor tile he had been studying and gave Sarah a puzzled look.

Embarrassed at her outburst, turned her head away and starting praying that Hogan would get the hint to leave.

"Sarah."

Nope.

"I mean, Queen Sarah," Hogan said again, tapping Sarah's shoulder and asking for her attention.

Sarah drew in a deep breath and he continued.

"I thought this was what you dreamed of being?"

Sarah furrowed her eyebrows. "How would you know what my dreams are?"

Hogan looked away for a moment and then back at the young woman.

"Why else would you be here?"

When Sarah said nothing, Hogan took his leave. She watched him as he returned towards the sea of dancers, replacing his...skull mask.

Hogan approached several young women who were talking and giggling with each other in the corner. A rather busty redhead gave a shrill giggle as he bowed before them.

Sarah seethed at the display.

Hogan led the redhead onto the dance floor, and glanced up once more towards Sarah. She attempted to keep her face blank, but could help but glare a little as the redhead let her hands explore her dancing partner. The skull dancer seemed amused as this display of anger and smiled.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Jareth, staggering a bit, sat beside Sarah and licked his teeth.

"I'm pretty tired...May I go to bed?"

The goblin king nodded, and Sarah left the ballroom quickly, not trusting herself to stay calm.

Taking Things for Granted- Chapter Two

2007-06-05T01:13:20Z

When Sarah passed through the door, she was amazed to find herself standing inside what seemed to be a castle.

Jareth's castle.

"Why on earth did you bring me here?" Sarah exclaimed, turning on the stranger.

"Hello, Sarah."

Sarah's scathing remarks caught in her throat, as a new voice found her.

She whirled away from the stranger to see the Goblin King himself standing before her. His blonde hair framed his face like a lion's mane, and his mismatched eyes danced with a sort of mischief that Sarah had grown accustomed to during her last trip through the Labyrinth.

"Send me home," Sarah demanded.

The king was not fazed. He simply lifted one eyebrow and took several steps, circling the young woman.

"No, I don't think I will."

Sarah's stony expression went to one of astonishment.

"You can't keep me here! It's against the rules! It's--"

"Thank you, Hogan," Jareth cut Sarah off and ignored her rants. "This bounty is much appreciated."

Sarah fell silent.

"Please," he continued, "make yourself comfortable. I shall return in a moment. I want to show my newest guest to her room."

The stranger, Hogan, nodded, and watched impassively as Jareth practically swept Sarah to her room. She didn't struggle at all, awestruck as she came to terms with her current situation.

I'm a prisoner...Jareth's bounty, brought to him by...

She turned her head a looked back at Hogan, no longer the stranger in her mind.

Sarah had never seen the man in her life; she couldn't have been in his presence for more than an hour. And yet, she felt betrayed. He had asked her if she wanted out of the oubliette.

It's place you put people to forget about them.

That's how Hoggle had described the oubliette when first fell into it.

Hoggle.

Sarah felt her eyes brimming with tears at the thought of her friend. She would have rather been left in the oubliette with Hoggle, letting the rest of the world forget about her, than to be stuck with Jareth leading her towards her doom.

"Here we are," Jareth announced.

When Sarah said nothing, he looked back to her, lip curling as he spotted the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Stay here and compose yourself," Jareth ordered. He opened the door, pushed Sarah inside, and closed it promptly.

The sound of a locking door only made Sarah cry harder, and she threw herself down on the bed.

Everything had happened so fast. It wasn't...It wasn't...

"Oh, it's just not fair!" Sarah cried, pushing her face into a pillow to muffle her sobbing.

"Things here usually aren't," a voice from the corner replied.

Immediately Sarah's sobs halted, and she lifted her head up from the pillow. A very old, very...unique looking goblin stood in front of her, giving her a sympathetic look.

"Who are you?" Sarah inquired, wiping her cheeks.

"My name is Maglin. I'm one of King Jareth's handmaidens."

Sarah nodded in understanding, sniffling slightly.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Sarah."

Maglin's eyes grew wide.

"Sarah? As in Sarah who..." She dropped her voice down to a whisper, "...defeated the Labyrinth?"

"Yes."

The old goblin laughed and clapped her hands together. "Your majesty! It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Sarah felt her head go light. "Your majesty? What are you talking about?"

"Queen Sarah of the Goblins! It's all His Majesty has been talking about for the past few days! He said that he would be sending for her so he could present her."

"Present me?"

"Oh, yes!" Maglin replied. "You are to be married!"

Sarah's mouth fell open. "Married!"

"I suppose you should get ready."

The goblin nodded to herself and made her way to the chifferobe.

"Ready for what? He's not marrying me tonight, is he?"

"Oh, no, no," Maglin answered, and Sarah let out a sigh of relief. "He was throwing a ball tonight. I'm sure he'll want you to be present so he can introduce you to the rest of the Sidhe."

Sarah fell back on the bed, her head pounding like a bass drum.

"What do you think of this one?"

Sarah lifted her head to see Maglin lifting a dress...very much like the one she had worn in her dream during her first trip in the Labyrinth.

CHAPTER THREE

Taking Things for Granted- Chapter One

2007-06-05T01:11:47Z

It had been a very dull, boring, rainy, and dreary day, as it usually was in Sarah William's world. She had once again come home late in a hurry, Merlin by her side, trying to outrun the approaching thunderstorm. She had been unsuccessful however, and was currently changing out of her soggy maiden's dress.

Her stepmother, Karen, had been a bit more lenient with Sarah's disheveled appearance than she had been the previous week when Sarah had returned from the park drenched. It seemed that Karen had been a lot more easy-going with quite a few things recently, but perhaps it was just Sarah's change in behavior.

Last week, when Sarah returned from the park, her attitude towards her baby stepbrother, Toby, had change dramatically. Sarah blamed it on an odd dream she had that night.

She glanced at her nightstand and smiled fondly at the bookend sitting beside her lamp. The crude-looking figure had been a character in the bizarre adventure she had dreamt up for herself.

"Hoggle," she sighed. That had been his name.

The dream had been a particularly vivid one, seeming almost real. It was an incredibly uplifting dream, as well. Although stressful and somewhat scary at points, the friends, such as Hoggle, which Sarah had picked up along her journey, had made it all worthwhile. She had fought hard to rescue Toby, who she had so dumbly wished away, but, despite her determination to get him back, she found herself slightly brought down as her time in the Labyrinth was brought to a close. Sarah had been overjoyed when her friends told her that she could call upon them whenever they were needed.

It had hurt her deeply to find that the next day, no matter how hard she tried, none of them would answer. After the third day of failed attempts to contact her friends, she had finally given up, facing the depressing reality that it had all just been a dream.

A crying Toby snapped Sarah out of her dreaming. Several weeks earlier, she would have been extremely annoyed at such a disturbance, but now she smiled as she made her way to her parents' room.

"What's wrong, Toby?"

Her fingers felt for the light switch, and immediately the bedroom was flooded with light. Sarah stood shocked and silent as she tried to process what she was seeing.

A man was standing beside the crib, one of his hands patting Toby, trying to get the baby to stop his crying. As the lights came on, the man's head snapped around and Sarah caught site of his face.

He was quite attractive; not at all the type of person Sarah would have expected for breaking and entering. His reddish brown hair brushed the top of his shoulders, and his surprised eyebrows were plastered high above his crystal blue eyes.

The man slowly backed away from the crib, holding his hands in front of him.

"Who--"

Sarah's words were cut short as the man rushed forward, making his way out of the bedroom, and knocking Sarah down in the process.

"Stop!" Sarah yelled, jumping up, and following the strange man.

Sarah chased after the stranger, suddenly alarmed as she realized he was running into her bedroom. She picked up speed and tried to catch up to him. Luckily, she got enough proximity between the two of them for her to see as he disappeared into her closet.

He was going to hide in the closet? Sarah thought, mentally laughing at his amateur camouflage.

She tiptoed her way to the closet, slowly turning the doorknob as she grabbed a statue off her dresser.

"Ha!" Sarah cried, as the door swung open.

Huh?

Much to Sarah's surprise, the uninvited visitor was gone.

Darkness there, and nothing more.

"Shut-up," Sarah said to herself. "He has to be somewhere."

Sarah tugged on the overhead light cord, and pushed the clothes apart. She was met with more clothing, so she pushed these apart as well, and...was met with even more clothing. Sarah set down the statue, and stepped into the closet, pushing her way through the clothing.

She felt smothered as she took several steps forward, reaching her hand out and expecting to touch wall. However, she just continued to encounter more and more clothing.

Sarah was in the dark, having left the overhead light somewhere back. As she clawed forward, she realized that she was no longer touching clothing.

This hanger feels like wood.

Sarah took a step forward, and felt the floor beneath her give. The foot broke through the...Branches? that were covering the ground, and Sarah found herself falling through a hole.

"Ouch!" Sarah whispered loudly as she met the bottom of the hole with a thump.

Something, somewhere in the pitch black hole, moved, and Sarah froze.

The stranger!

Sarah clenched her eyes shut, and began to hold her breath, hoping that whatever was in the hole with her, would leave her alone and let her rot away in peace.

Suddenly the inside of Sarah's eyelids changed from black to red, and she recognized that there was light coming from somewhere. She opened her eyes, and indeed, there was the stranger, a lantern in hand, searching the floor for something.

The oubliette.

"I'm in an oubliette," Sarah thought aloud.

The stranger looked up from his work, and gave Sarah an annoyed expression.

Are his eyes really blue? Sarah thought again, this time to herself.

She leaned forward and studied his face, trying to decide if he eyes were blue or clear.

"Who are you?" Sarah said at last.

The stranger looked up again, he had almost forgotten her presence. He said nothing, however, and ignored her, continuing his search for the unknown object.

"Please," she continued. "I need some help...could you help me?"

"You were able to find your way through the Labyrinth the first time." He paused, his back still turned towards her, "Surely you can manage."

Sarah sat silent for a moment. It wasn't until she had thought about it thoroughly that she realized he was being quite rude to her. His voice was very enchanting. A slight Scottish accent weaved its way into his words.

"Even the first time I had help," Sarah reasoned.

"Well, don't be expecting any this time," the stranger snapped.

The accent's charm suddenly wore off, and Sarah felt herself grow angry.

"Why were you in my parents' room?" Sarah demanded. "You're with Jareth, aren't you?"

The stranger looked at her.

"Jareth lost. I won, fair and square."

The stranger said nothing.

"Look, I'm sorry if he's a sore loser, but I didn't wish for anything, and--"

"Would you shut-up?"

Sarah stood, speechless.

The stranger picked up a door, and put it against the wall, his hand on the knob.

"Do you want out of this oubliette?"

"Yes," Sarah replied, finally finding her voice.

"Then shut-up and come on."

Sarah obliged and quietly followed the stranger into the light.

Dana's Story

2007-04-08T05:25:39Z

You should go read Dana's story! It is the BEST story in the whole wide world! I LOVE it!
Dana's Story

My New Stories

2007-03-28T13:28:32Z

I'm thinking about writing two other stories in addition to the "Bogie and Bacall" one that I've already posted. Yes, Rachael, I'm going to attempt to write three stories at once. One of them, which I have not named yet, follows the story of twelve-year-old Tomas Valdez, and his journey through growing up. The other one is about a girl named (Oh, wow!) Katherine, who lives with her grandparents and two younger siblings. I'm not going to go into details, but I think you might like that story.

Bogie and Bacall 1

2007-03-20T03:37:45Z

I had only been gone for two months, and already I was incredibly homesick. I have never been away from my parents for more than a week, and being an only child, I always got all of the attention I needed. Now, I was living by myself in Los Angeles, standing in the middle of a Wal-Greens on a Friday evening.

Like I said, I was an only child, so unlike most first-time freshmen in college, I was living in an apartment that my parents helped pay for. Things weren’t as difficult as they could be. With my parents paying my rent, I still had plenty of money from my job at Dillard’s to pay for both living supplies and entertainment.

I’m still not exactly sure why I was at a Wal-Greens at eleven o’clock at night, but I think I was picking up lip-balm or tampons or some other girly-toiletry. I don’t think I was buying makeup; I usually don’t wear any. People have always told me that I don’t need it. I have a naturally good complexion, clear of any blemishes or pimples. I’ve always been proud of my facial features, (my body is another story entirely), and with recent trips down to the gym, I had found myself losing weight, too.

For the first time in my life, I found myself beginning to feel proud of my appearance, even if I wasn’t exactly happy with my environment.

Los Angeles turned out to be a mixture of both what I had expected and not expected it to be. The part where I lived, rather distant from the vibrancy of Beverly Hills, reminded me very much of the shady downtown setting in the movie The Terminator. But it didn’t bother me too much, because I was a movie-person, and half of what I lived for was atmosphere.

Actually, I wouldn’t have been in Los Angeles were I not a movie person. The only reason I was even in L.A. was the simple fact that, much to my surprise, I had been accepted into the prestigious UCLA, and was majoring in film production.

I watched with very little interest as the cashier rung up my lip-gloss, eye shadow, and the previewed copy of Sleepless in Seattle, which I had picked up in the “Hot Deals!” bin. I paid her quickly and walked out into the night, noting to avoid any grizzly old men approaching me.

I had always been interested in movies. From the time that I was a little girl, I had wanted to be an actress, but this wasn’t key reason that I had been tempted to apply to UCLA. No, the actual reason is rather embarrassing, and wouldn’t have happened had I not had a steamy ever-lasting crush on Academy Award-winning, Jim Harper.

I had been “in love” with him since I was fourteen years old. He was one of those really well known actors. The ones who, you’ve heard of as a kid, but really have no interest in because they aren’t exactly a handsome face, or even a youthful one. That’s why it wasn’t until my freshman year of high school, when I saw his movie, Bottlecaps, that I recognized his fantastic acting ability, and fell into a sort of awe-inspired love as apposed to a “crushful” one.

He had made the movie in the early eighties, when he had just came onto the scene. It was his first major role, and he played a guy looking to make it big. Luckily for him, that’s exactly what happened in real life. For the next decade he went on to win four Oscars for best actor, and got another six nominations.

For the four years I spent in high school, I collected his movies, all fifty-eight of them. I even went so far as to hook up the living room VCR to my TV/VCR so that I could record some of his harder to find movies onto blank tapes. They tended to have these rare videos at Blockbuster, and so I often broke the law. But it was for Jim Harper, so it was okay!

In fact, the only problem that anyone ever seemed to have with my curious obsession for this actor was the fact that he was a year younger than my mother. Did I mention my mother was in her fifties? That would make Jim about thirty-five years my senior. It never bothered me, though. If people inquired about the age difference, I would reply, “We can be just like Bogie and Bacall!” I guess it was another odd little fantasy I had.

For all through high school, he was my true love and my idol. For my sixteenth birthday, my best friend, Dana, made me a pillowcase with his picture ironed on. Above the photos were the words “I Sleep With Jim” in pink glitter glue. For my seventeenth birthday, she bought me a Bottlecaps poster, which proceeded to be hung above my bed, where I stared at it every night before I went to bed.

When I moved out, it found its way into my suitcase.

But the point was that I didn’t fall in love with is looks. I’m not sure exactly what I fell in love with. He was established; in his television interviews he always seemed confident. I suppose you could say I fell in love with his image, what in my mind he represented. That was the reason I had applied to UCLA. That was the reason I was majoring in film production. And that was the reason that I had flown half-across the country to live in a city where I was terribly homesick.

When I got to my apartment, I made sure to lock and bolt the door, then found my way to the television. It was late, but I wasn’t tired, and I didn’t have to get up the next day, so I decided to pop in the movie I bought and relax. Sleepless in Seattle wasn’t one of my favorite Tom Hanks flicks, but it had been the only movie at the store that had been even somewhat entertaining.

To tell the truth, the film reminded me of a film Jim had done with Fran Drescher called So Right!, which had been their take on a sort of comedic “Snow White”. The movie had been highly acclaimed as funny, romantic, entertaining, but for some reason I just didn’t go for it. Apart, I love both actors. But that movie wasn’t one of Jim’s finer. I just considered it a minor blemish on an otherwise flawless record.

They went on to collaborate again later in another movie, which I liked more than their first. It was probably because it had been based around an old movie, but nonetheless, I found myself thoroughly enjoying it.

Kate

t0mb0y @ 2008-07-25T03:41:00

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