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Story: "A Winter of Tears"


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Old 13-02-2004, 19:17   #21
Silenced Sonix Silenced Sonix is offline
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Hmm, would anyone like me to continue this story? I have been looking around at something to write, and just realized (after reading the thread) that I never finished this.

Anyone?
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Old 14-02-2004, 05:21   #22
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oooooooooh me, me, i would.
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Old 14-02-2004, 22:12   #23
Ann t..A.T.u. Ann t..A.T.u. is offline
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hell yeah i tought u had a majour idea n ive been waiting for it so come on
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Old 21-02-2004, 13:53   #24
Silenced Sonix Silenced Sonix is offline
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Yes, that is still coming up. I just... Well, give me a few hours.
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Old 21-02-2004, 16:26   #25
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Part Vb

------------------Part V a
The morning air was a cold touch over his face as Derrick walked into the diner two blocks away from where the truck had crushed the newspaper boy’s skull, a dry, warm wall of air rolling over him from the shop’s air-conditioning as he opened the door and walked in. Although the diner had obviously seen better days, it was still in good shape, and the few customers that huddled around the bar counter and few small tables at the side were not yet from the lowest fringes of society. Flashing the waitress a smile, he walked to one of the corner booths and sat down with his back against the wall, his view covering the door and the rest of the diner. Red seat-covers, coupled with a dull red tabletop and the splash of the stark white newspaper that lay on the table, suddenly created a surreal sense of violence in him, and his thoughts flashed back to the dead boy’s blood on the dirty snow that had covered the road. For a brief moment he disconnected from what was going on around him, and it was only the waitress’s hesitant prompt that brought him back to where he sat in the diner, a cold black shape in a bath of dull and artificial blood.
“Excuse me sir, are you ready to order?” Her voice was cautious, and as Derrick turned to face her, he thought of how Death had looked in his dream – the leering face, the shorn skull, the dark eyes, and he understood how she saw him.
“I’ll have…” He paused, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with still-gloved hands, a sudden headache surfacing behind his eyes. He put his glasses back on before finishing the sentence, but felt the throb in his head remain, and grow steadily stronger. “I’ll just have some black coffee, thank you.”
“Will that be all?” the waitress asked, scribbling on her notepad, looking up to catch Derrick’s nod. She gave a nod of her own before moving off again, leaving Derrick alone in the corner of the diner. Taking off his glasses again, Derrick put them on the table next to the newspaper, felt around in the inner pocket of his coat again. First a pager, and then the bottle of eye-drops surfaced, and he placed them on the table next to the glasses and the newspaper, looking at the group of small objects with a critical eye. For a moment he considered opening the bottle and dousing his eyes with the soothing liquid, but decided against it and instead picked up the pager. It was the same one he had used the previous day in the airport, and as his eyes flickered from the pager to the front half of the newspaper that was visible, he grinned inwardly. One could almost say that the pager led to the newspaper, he thought to himself, idly turning the small black gadget over in his hands. He still wore his gloves, and the glossy tips of the shiny leather glided over the pager’s back, flowing over the outlines and contours on the back – the clip to attach it to a belt, the small lines that formed the outline of the panel that hid the batteries, the last, shallow carving in the one corner. He turned the pager to catch the overhead light, and a small skull grinned back at him from the corner of the pager, the lines thin, shallow lines barely visible. It was as he was studying the pager that the waitress arrived, the cup of coffee steaming in front of him by the time he looked up. The skull – and his thoughts – must still have showed in his eyes, for the waitress gave a visible start, her eyes flaring as they made contact with Derrick’s.
“I… You…” she stuttered, watched the dark eyes below her blink and suddenly appear as normal again, the thin lines of the seated man’s eyebrows rising in a questioning look.
“Is there a problem, ma’am?” Derrick’s voice was soft as he looked the waitress straight in the eye, willing the pain in his head down as his vision bored into her two frightened eyes. A black light enveloped him for a few short seconds, and then he tore into her memory, watching her life like a cheap, homemade movie as he saw it through her eyes. A young girl with a brown pony tail on either side of her head; a teenage girl, making out for the first time in the back of her boyfriend’s car at a football game; a failed acting career, coupled with numerous offers to start in low-budget ‘adult’ movies; a shoddy apartment with loud neighbors and a nosy landlady; a diner where a dark man walked in and ordered black coffee that paled in comparison to what she had seen in his eyes. Like a book he read her, tasted her emotions and fears, pulsed in time to the beating of her heart. For a brief instant, he was the waitress, felt and experienced everything she had ever felt, drank her essence like a man in the desert would drink the sweetness of a desert oasis. He felt the tug of reality and forced his mind to swim back to the picture of the diner, saw the blackness in his periphery vision fade as he returned to his own body. In the diner, only a few seconds had passed, and the shocked looked on the girl’s face was frozen in a mask of sheer horror. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, and Derrick had to reach out and give her a light shake to bring her back to reality. Her eyelids shot down on each other as his hand touched her, and series of light shudders ran down her body, the fingers that clutched her notebook white from the tension. Pulling his hand back, Derrick switched his attention to the newspaper, picking it up and fluffing the first page out as he started reading, idly watching the waitress from the corner of his eye. He had barely reached the bottom of the articles first column when he saw the waitress open her eyes again, and look down at him where he sat reading.
“Excuse me sir, are you ready to…” Her voice faltered as she saw the cup of coffee that sat steaming in front of Derrick, the way he looked up at her with a smile, the notebook that she brought up and saw the scribbling annotation for one medium coffee in her own handwriting.
“…to order? No thank you, everything is fine for now.”
“I thought…” She looked at her notebook again, looked back at Derrick and managed half a smile. “Sorry, just being a bit absent-minded.”
“Well, the shock has been great.” Turning the newspaper so that she could see the front page, where a bold headline screamed of another terrorist strike at the American homeland, and a wide-angled photo of the burning airport terminal was splashed across half the page, Derrick gave an apologetic smile, raising his shoulder in a half-shrug. “After 9/11, I don’t think we really expected it to happen again – not with all the safety precautions and directives the government brought in.”
“Yes, we… I watched the news last night – it’s terrible.” She stopped, realized how her answer must have sounded. “I mean, me and the cats – they always watch the news with me. If they’re in for the night.”
At the table, Derrick gave the waitress another smile, felt the pain behind his eyes ease slightly as he though back of the girl’s memories, her feelings and emotions. His gazed jumped to where her nametag rode high on her dress, and he noticed the way she her face flushed when she saw him looking at the tag.
“I’m Peggy,” she introduced herself, extending a shy hand to Derrick. He took her hand and introduced himself, seeing her for the first time as they shook hands. Not small, but still shorter than his own one meter ninety, she had dark brown hair that was cut short around her head, and a fine figure that spoke of hours of what he saw as ‘maintenance’, but which women considered as the fine pursuit of beauty. Her face was not like that of a supermodel, but had a softer, more womanly shape that was appealing in a different way, and Derrick suddenly saw why she had not made it in the entertainment world – she was a woman that lived with her soul, and she had seen the tainted power of the entertainment industry, and had evidently not stood up for it.
“Please, have a seat,” he indicated, motioning for her to sit down at the opposite side of the table. He knew she would refuse, and as he watched her shake her head, his inward grin came back.
“Sorry, but I really can’t – my boss will kill me if she sees me loafing around with one of the customers.”
Derrick gave half a smile, and nodded.
“I understand – duty first, right?” He grinned, and she grinned back at him. “Which reminds me – is there perhaps a phone here that I could use?” He indicated the pager, and she gave a short nod.
“Sure, I’ll show you where.” He got up and followed her through the diner, feeling the odd stare as the other customers looked up for brief moments before going back to their business. She led the way through a doorway into the diner and down a short, cluttered corridor, stopping at a wall-mounted telephone at the end of the corridor.
“For the outside line, it‘s zero five one, and then you can dial normally.”
“Thanks, it’ll be great.” He watched her walk away, saw the way she stopped at the door to the diner and give him another long look before going out again, the door swinging behind her in last arcs. As he stood there, the skull-engraved pager held loosely in one gloved hand, the other already on the phone’s handset, he felt – for the first time in years – a pang of pity for the young girl, her dreams that he had seen and would never be fulfilled, her longings and desires that would never be comforted, her life that would fade away into obscurity.

When he dialed the number to contact Anton where he and Konrad waited in the hotel, his head was clear again, the incident buried in a dark corner of his mind, and the cold logic of their mission, their very purpose for being in America, was the only thing he felt as he placed the call, gave the last orders. Less than ten minutes later, he had left the shop and climbed into the black van alongside Konrad, and had left the morning’s incident behind him, buried and forgotten in the raging void that was his mind.
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Old 21-02-2004, 16:33   #26
Silenced Sonix Silenced Sonix is offline
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Hey, two and a half hours... Not bad, not bad at all
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Old 22-02-2004, 01:21   #27
Ann t..A.T.u. Ann t..A.T.u. is offline
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wow very cool SS really liked it. still very warped and twisted. keep it up.(still don c how i helped)
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