• Published 9th Mar 2021
  • 6,349 Views, 99 Comments

Double Double - Background Bystander



Some days you feel like you’re someone else. Some days someone else feels like you.

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1. Toe Cutter Thumb Buster

This was it.

An entire life of training, torture, trials, and tribulations all preparing him for this exact moment. Just as it had come for the others. He knew full well that this task was not unique, as many men had tried to take up the mantle before him. Just as many men had fallen. But it did not matter, as this burden was one not suited for the selfish ones. You must do what you can for those that matter most, even if it meant death. It could all be taken from you, a life vanquished in an instant strike of accurate execution, falling to the ancient earth below, and becoming lost to time.

The heavy rain drenched him in oppressive darkness, stinging as cold as the steel that surrounded his figure. As was the one in his hand, sharpened to a razor's edge, jagged like the black rock that sprouted from the ground, points wet with prior impalement. Cracks ripped through with sludgy magma roots, the walls imploding in on themselves with every flash of the fiery white-hot lightning. This domain was not long for this plane of existence; eventually, it would shed from this mountain face and fall endlessly into the black void of nothingness expanding beneath them.

As were the duelists themselves, now being eroded by the tides of war.

His armor was beginning to harden from the caked blood of those who’d tried to oppose him on his journey, to which his response was swift and merciless. Chunks of grimy gore and agitated innards piling up in his garments underneath, attempting to find entrance within the slashes and gouges spread across his body. Breath heavy, every labored cycle thick with spit and blood. Every bone ready to break, every tendon near a tear. In his nose, the suffocating smell of iron, steel, and fur.

His opponent grounded its hoof into the charred rock, blowing furious smoke from its snarling snout. It let out a booming roar straight from the bowels of its gut, where his fellow comrade's treacherous stories would come to a bitter end, and charged for him. Horns pointed directly to impale. Each stomp shook his skeleton, the slams of hard nail blasted into his eardrums. It was overwhelming to his body’s limited senses. But his willpower won out in the end, as it controlled his body just enough to perform a sloppy sidestep, accompanied by a blind swing of his sword. No luck. Just a smack on the beast’s horn as it barreled past, lighting the storm in a quick shower of sparks.

The beast gave an annoyed grunt upon impact, coming to a hard stop and turned to him once more. Beady holes of its eyes seething with hatred. That a mere mortal would dare stay in its sight without bending knee, let alone attempt to strike him when the consequences were littered around the battlefield. He looked down to see an object hanging low from a few tendrils of meaty string. It was its horn, now knocked loose from its socket. He snorted and took it within one of his massive paws and ripped it clean from his skull. Blood spurting out onto his charcoal fur and the hide of his leathery armor punctured deep and sticky with dried miscalculations. He flicked it around between his fingers and fired it back at his rushing adversary with the force of a hundred cannons over.

He was too winded to avoid altogether, as it plunged itself deep within his left forearm. Vision going white from the severe shock of pain. Recovering from a stumble, he immediately took his other arm to the horn. Twisting, tugging, screaming to pry it out.

The beast made its move once more, charging again in familiar patterns. Its fangs were wide with a grin as it came down for a finishing blow, swinging wide with its huge battle axe.

He’d only just managed to remove the horned projectile as it’d lunged for him. Throwing himself to the ground at the very last second, in time to hear the deafening whoosh of the blade go right over his head. Where his neck was a moment prior.

Many necks.

But as long as his mind was still in working order, he was going to use it. He heard the beast howl with laughter as he pulled his jittery body to its feet. He spat some blood to the side and wiped his mouth—eyes finding their way down to the more bovine appendages of the beast’s anatomy. An idea was beginning to form.

“Fool! Your elders should’ve warned you of daring to come before my hooves! They must have finally given in to their ever-growing madness, deciding to send a servant as lowly as you…” He let out a demonic chuckle as he began to circle him, tail swishing playfully as he picked at his prey. “It’s a pity, truly. To think you could’ve surrendered yourself to a swifter end. I offered you one before, one that was quick and painless. You could have saved yourself from the jaws of destruction that were to come. But no…your kind and their pathetic pride would not allow themselves to accept my blessings. You had to be so stubborn in your minds when death was granting you voyage to the gods you so hastily call upon in times of peril…” he stopped and turned his head, gazing out onto the fields of flame and wreckage.

“…Yet here you are, having been led straight through the gates of Armageddon. Your party long since perished, your homelands ravaged, your peasantry enslaved, your queen…vanished.” Another perverse laugh from the beast. He slowly watched it trot triumphantly. Steadying his breath.

“…And you, right back where you started. Once more having found yourself under my blade. Only now I shall hold my graces, as you are no longer deserving of mercy. You are going to die, just as slow…and as painful as the rest of them. I just hope you are…satisfied with your actions.”

His unwavering glare burned into the beast as his limbs slowly aligned themselves to the proper stance. Fingers gripped tight around the hilt.

“You dare mock me, worm? You think you are deserving of a warrior's death?” He drove a hoof into the ground, causing a crater with visible shockwaves. “Ha! Weakling! You couldn’t even hold your own with the herd's lowest standing cattle! And now you wish to perish with this illness you call honor?” His jaw remained tight, never moving from his position. “Hmm, I suppose I could humor myself for the time being and let this servant believe he died for something. Then witness as his very soul is crushed as I lay waste to the rest of his kingdom’s land.”

The beast finally stopped its pacing and readjusted himself, muscles flexing into form as he positioned to charge once more. Guard suppressed as he had already declared himself the victor. The land had their new Master, their new King. Forever the sun would shine down upon the Marauder banner.

He knew it was coming, and at this point, he wasn’t exactly a patient man. With sword in hand, his legs shot him into a sprint, attempting to tuck his near useless arm. The beast was slightly surprised but shook it off as he continued to go straight for him, closing the gap in a matter of seconds. He pulled his arm back and flung it across his body in an arc, throwing an object the beast’s way, aiming straight between the eyes.

The beast’s torso straightened in an attempt to block this unknown object. Exposing his lower half even more, revealing a space between his legs. An opening.

He used his forward momentum as he went to his knees in a slide. Shredding the skin of the caps as he shot in between the beast’s legs. It’d turned its head in a moment of shock, moving guard away from the right side of its body even more. He took his sword and swung it towards the open hind leg in a stabbing motion. This time right on target as the blade buried itself deep within the fur all the way down to the femur. The beast reared as it let out a roar of pain, beginning to lose its footing. He wasted no time as he sprang to his feet and dragging the sword across the leg. The serrated edge tore through the muscle and bone in an explosion of blood.

The beast was thrown to the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop on its back. He tried to move the appendage, signals from his nerves only managing to twitch it slightly. It was now useless. As was his earlier defense, he soon realized his opponent threw mere pebbles at him. Nothing that would cause serious damage, only a distraction for what came after. The few snorts of pain were drowned out by ear-splitting shrieks of rage.

Attempting to lift itself, he leaped onto the beast in one mighty jump. A slash knocking the axe from its grasp, along with a few fingertips. He then twirled it around his hand and plunged it downward into its left pectoral. At first, only breaking the leather of its armor as it struggled to get up. He used his right fist and hammered on the pommel, causing it to sink deeper into the skin. The muscle tissue. The ribcage. Until the tip of his sword began to pulsate with a muffled, rhythmic thumping.

The beast bellowed as it threw him to the ground, breaking off the steel buried in its chest. He landed hard, feeling a weird snap from his right foot. “Insolent worm! Your skull will serve well as my new fuck hole!” Stumbling upright, it catapulted himself from one hoof, the remaining horn pointed forward. He was just able to turn as it skewered in the weaker arm's shoulder, a sickening pop as it was torn from its socket. If it weren’t for the adrenaline, as well as the countless potions coursing through his veins, he would’ve blacked out from the immediate excruciating pain. Sheer determination, allowed him to grip tightly to a handful of fur on the back of its massive neck and pulled him closer, plunging the horn deeper as he sent one last kick towards the sword tip.

His boot connected. The steel disappeared.

Both recoiled upon impact. Stripping him of the horn, leaving his left arm dangling from tendons as he managed to stay on his feet. He collected the better half of his sword. The beast collapsed to its hands as one clutched at its chest where a powerful red spray shot out. He ran up in one final push, taking the sword in a dramatic, flourishing arch and striking it down with every last bit of energy left in his body.

The visceral crunch of bone rang out with a mighty crack of thunder. Eyes twitching once…before the head slowly separated from its spine, landing to the ground with an idle smack.

The beast had spread many lies within its time, spitting vile enough to fill the kingdom’s vast seas. But now, they had evaporated, only leaving room for the ruby river of truth to flow eternally.

The beast…The Marauder.

Utterly defeated…dead.

"B-...By the gods...you..." He paused from releasing the restraints and looked at her. "...You...lived. I..." She nodded once, and he unlatched the others. "The royal saurs shall have a fantastic feast once we offer them his rotting corpse...perhaps we should include those dreadful theatre kings now that I think about it." He offered no response as she pulled herself from the grounds of decayed flesh and crumbled bone, many skeletons piled around and picked clean. "Right...nevermind that, we must make haste. Lead the way, my most faithful warrior."


He'd been called upon to her private quarters secluded deep with the castle of the air. Not a call many of his rank are given, especially given the injuries he was busy recovering from; how they managed to save his arm he'll have no idea, he was never one for magic. Even more so when the message stated it was an emergency of upmost urgency.

He parted the beaded curtains as he walked through the doorway, slightly crouching as he did so. He found within her sleeping chambers, laid out amongst her bed in a relaxed pose. The newest, youngest, and dare he say most gifted queen of the monarchy. But that sort of talk remained in private with the members of the guild.

She was dressed in her sleeping garments, adorned with the most elegant patterns of paisley, shining bright with the kingdom's colors. Her long black hair loose, falling gently all around her porcelain face. "Ah, it's you! My apologies about the wording of the letter. The messenger, he can be so...literal at times. Always so serious, always so worried." She giggled as she sat up on the bed, swinging her legs over the side. He gave her a nod but nothing more, causing her to frown. "...I suppose those are warranted, given our recent hardships. Trying to rebuild...to reclaim our prior peace."

She looked out a window, a faint smile appearing on her face as she slowly rose to her feet. She sauntered her way over to him, swaying her hips in exaggerated fashion. "But those will return in due time...for now, there is a more pressing matter that must be addressed. It has come to my attention that you were never truly thanked for what you did for me, and that...that simply will not do." She ran a hand down his chest, making her way to his chiseled abdomen as she untied the robe from his torso. "That simply will not do at all."

She led him over and laid him out on her bedspread, sheets stitched together with the most exotic materials by the hands of the finest seamstress of the family. Many candles were lit, their scented wax dripping with a thick seductive scent. As he laid flat, she climbed atop and positioned herself upon his waist. It was here he discovered she wasn't wearing her undergarments.

"So I figured I'd do the honors myself. I am forever grateful for what you've done. For me, for the kingdom, for the whole world. You're someone who I would place my safety in the hands of...without a second thought." She gently leaned forward, putting her face inches away from his own, striking blue eyes like the sky staring deep. Giving him a mischievous smile all the way. "Which is why I'm entrusting you with one final mission. The last crusade you'll ever need to complete, warrior." She gave him a small peck on the lips and sat up again. Moving her hands around the ribbon of her dress. Exposing her body with every twist and turn of the elegant strap. "To brave the storms of battle, the ever cascading tides of war, buried deep within the bowels of hell-oh yes! You are the one I trust for such an endeavor!" Most of her cleavage was visible now, as was her soft stomach while she held the garment taut between her arms. She gave him a final wink as she let it fall behind her.

"Just me...and youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-"

Black.

"What the?" He stood up straight and looked around in confusion. His eyes wide open, yet he still couldn't see anything through the prior blackout. Only now the void had been accompanied by a white wireframe box encasing him. He looked down to where his hands would be located, instead he found two identical stumpy handles.

"Oh no..." He brought his hands up and pulled the visor from his face, squelches from the suction of sweat as it slid up his forehead. No longer was he sprawled out in the queen's royal chambers, nor was he flung into an all encompassing black hole. Now, he was present in the middle of the dull beige cage that was his college dorm. He saw a pop-up icon buzzing on his monitor, with a bright red circle and an X. He walked over and leaned down to investigate, squinting as he adjusted to the bright screen.

The software was closed because an error occurred.

"Aww c'mon! Are you being serious right now? They just released a huge update for this thing a few days ago!" He groaned in frustration as he closed the window, removing the headset and putting it on his desk with a careless chuck. He stepped back and ran his hands down his face, exhaling loudly before swinging them lifelessly by his sides.

"I can't fucking believe this, that was the ending...I killed the final boss...the final cutscenes. I was right there! They were right there, just frames away!" His hands shot back up, cupping the air at chest level, replaying those final moments. His fingers gave a single squeeze, as both shoulders fell in disappointment. "Goddamnit Chris, you should've known it was gonna end like that. You can't even maintain a relationship in the actual world, what made you think a pair of polygons wanted anything to do with you?" It was always the same story, the same script. Only difference with each remake being the swapping of the lead actress. They would meet up, enjoy each others company for a few weeks, and then she would storm out on him. Citing the reason as feeling drained when being around him. Always the same reason.

The last one had been quite a while ago, and hit just as hard as...well, like a minotaur gorging you straight in the gut with its horns. Now he'd been left to himself, standing around in his socks and underwear, sweating away his life browsing through the internet and playing video games till the wee hours of the night.

Wait a minute...no...does that say AM? Impossible, how could it happen? Didn't the clock say 11:30 like 10 minutes ago? "Come to think of it, that last leg of the level was a real slog. Deciding to use the throw everything in the kitchen sink method of level design to make it look like a challenge. And that final boss was just...I don't know. The constant charge-hit-dodge pattern was kinda lazy, and that last sequence was nothing but quick time! ...Guess it looked cool..."

But man did it take a lot out of him, more so than most of his playthroughs. Sure he came out victorious in the end, but much like his digital counterpart he'd been stricken by many aliments. His arms were sore, eyes were burning, stunk like a skunk, so tired he was just on the cusp of unconsciousness, and above all else he was so hungry he could eat a horse!

...Not his horse of course, he'd suffered through enough quests to obtain that steed.

After a quick clean up and even quicker dressing, he made his way into the dorm's mini kitchen, pilfering through his mini fridge. He took out a bottled water and twiddled his fingers around the few shelves until he settled down on an oddly shaped apple. He bit into it, where upon immediately shattering his teeth into shards. "Oh, right...it's frozen, you insomniac idiot." He lazily mumbled to himself. Wincing from the pain, especially in his canines.

He reached down into a drawer and pulled out a kitchen knife, placing the apple on the counter and began to messily cut into its core.

Chop.

Chop.

...Chop.

...

...

...Cho-ow!

"Son of a bitch!" He jumped back from the counter, grabbing at his index finger. A dull throbbing of pain creeping through his hand from the sudden slice. Guess that's what I get for using sharp shit while sleep deprived. He moved the knife and apple to the side as he went through the mindless motions of nursing the wound, if only he had a menu for it. He ran the tap water over the cut, those ruby rivers flowing strong as it washed around his hand and dripping into the sink drain. It was fairly sized, considering he'd put more force into the chop. Nothing too dire, but definitely needing a bandage. A wonderful way to start the day.

He rubbed his thumb and index together, taking on a bright tint of red. Then a darker red. A deep wine red. His blood ran deeper in hue until the point it started appearing black, with a weird iridescent highlight of green and blue. The only thing he could compare it to would be the oil runoff you'd find after a rainstorm.

In a moment of tired confusion, he pulled his finger up to his face. Still running black. He put it under the sink again, just to be sure. Still black.

His brain could only respond with a strange chuckle. "I guess it's true what they say about video games, they do indeed rot your brain...and your blood cells apparently." Now he was starting to see things due to just how tired he was. Because there was...something else that appeared incredibly peculiar. For the water of the sink wasn't cupping around his hand before spilling over.

Instead it was falling straight through his palm.

He pulled his hand away and examined it once more. The blackened blood still dribbled, falling along the lines of his hand and disappearing. Another spike of twisted curiosity as he took his other hand and attempted to feed it through the invisible passageway. Sure enough, he was able to pass four fingers through, wiggling the fingertips to confirm. His face remained unmoved, with only his eyes bulging and mouth agape as he maneuvered them slightly. The hole was surprisingly smooth, as if someone had bored through the bone and finely sanded it to a polished finish. He became even more concerned when he began to have a similar feeling, or rather lack of feeling, in his other hand.

"What...the...fu-" A sharp breath as he stumbled backwards, catching himself on the wall. He couldn't clearly pinpoint what was going on with his body, but something was most definitely wrong. Actually, no, scratch that. Many things were wrong. The feeling in his fingers and toes nulled away into severe numbness. At the same time, the early signs of an intense headache and throbbing from his shoulders. His voice became harsh with a painful sounding rasp. Oh yeah, and also the teensy, very tiny issue of every single vein becoming visible through his skin in a sickly green glow. His body looked like an alien map of jungle vines, twisting and turning across his paler hue.

"I...uh..." He stood there, attempting to communicate with himself through the most refined dialect of stutters and mumbles. He swallowed, as hard as it was in his desert of a throat, and tried to speak once more. "I'm starting to get the sneaking suspicion this isn't the common co-...c...colll-" He couldn't even finish his sarcastic quip as he felt an instant tightening in his chest. Perhaps it was the mysterious workings of mercy silencing him from saying something so stupid.

It felt like he'd been wrapped around the most personal of bear hugs. So intimate in fact, the bear had clawed itself deep within his person and squeezed itself within his squishy innards, tangled amongst his intestines, latching on his lungs. Excuse me, Mr. Bear, it's awfully considerate of you to feel that way, but I'm afraid my chest cavity is too cramped to consolidate a creature of your size. Perhaps a Holiday Inn will suffice?

Or perhaps he should be a little more concerned with what's going on in reality, as he'd collapsed to the floor in a heap of gasps and wheezes. A fish flopping helplessly outside of its tank. Perhaps his brain had just become delirious from the amount of blood lost from his greatly underestimated nick of the knife. Or maybe even further, his outlook on the world had gone into overdrive from the amount of shapes and colors that'd been flashed into his face for the past few hours, and now perceived everything like his long library of games.

How should he know? He wasn't a Nemo, Neuro or Neo.

His vision was becoming blurry as his internals imploded from the inside...inside. His lungs continuing to show a mean masochistic streak as they further denied any airflow. It wasn't before long that he eventually gave in and accepted defeat. To part ways from his pitiful life. This pointless fight for his body, even though there wasn't anything too stellar waiting for it if he managed to save it. He couldn't even die with dignity, having lost to a frozen apple of all foes. No herculean hellish minotaur, no galaxy wide intergalactic threat, just a harmless piece of fruit. Something that would haunt him to his core for the rest of his ghastly days.

Wait a minute...he got it!

In the middle of a crazed convulsion, the sunlight fell onto him from the window for a moment of enlightenment. The problem wasn't something effecting his body, it was the body itself! His own flesh was the enemy he was fighting, his own skin of silicone suffocating him dry! Yes, he needed to be rid of it, to cast it off, to banish this terrible traitor of low testosterone to its lowly demise! To change!

With that revelation, something clicked within his brain. And he was able to finally drink in a single breath.

A tiny amount, barely anything, but it was his first taste in a long while. He tried it again, this time he was able to capture a little more, accompanied by another weird glow, a teal-ish color illuminating from his most vital organs. As he continued to fill his lungs, his body was reacting in sync. Skin cells slowly bubbling, flesh beginning to flake as his human frame literally began to fade away in a strange green smoke. Whatever, at this point he didn't give a shit, he needed to breathe! To live!

Extremely quick cycles now, as the eerie smoke continued to cover his body completely. And you know what they say; wherever there is smoke, there is fire. To which this was no exception, as whatever this light was in his chest acted as a catalyst. The smallest of sparks that set his entire body ablaze in a giant green flame.

Naturally, he reacted to sudden combustion the way any normal person would: an unfocused flailing fit of confused screaming. Y'know, as you do.

He watched, or at least tired to, in terror as his body burned to a crisp, turning his limbs into nothing more than spindly stumps of overcooked charcoal, cracking around the edges with decayed holes. His spine squeezed and twisted, as his shoulder blades ripped through his back, fluttering in fear with a frantic buzzing filling his ears. The bones of his sternum started to meld together into a hard material, their marrow a delicious morsel to the ever feasting flame. It licked its sinister lips as it crawled up his body, deciding now it was time to go for the kill shot: His head.

The flames bit into his face with ferocious appetite, causing him to scream even louder. This pleased the flame greatly, as it took this newfound opportunity to jump straight down his throat. He coiled inward, neck cranking and turning as he tried to stop the choking. It didn't like that in slightest. Retaliating, the fire went to burning the inside of his body, shooting his senses full of a powerful, commanding force. So strong it jolted him off the floor a decent height and crashing down with a hard landing, causing him to let out an angered yelp.

Anger...yes, it liked that. It latched onto it. Sending it down even further into his neck. Heat exploding around his vocal chords, submerging them in an inferno of seething, blinding, arrogant hatred swimming all throughout his esophagus. When he finally managed to spit it out, it continued to swirl around his head, taking his hair into a curly tornado. Eventually pinpointing on his forehead, gathering nerves and hard matter as it sucked his skull outward in a jagged, pulling manner.

Finally reaching an endpoint, the last pieces of flame flew in the air, sparkling out into nothingness.

Stillness. Silence. The kitchen's puny walls caged him as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes slowly scanning the same surroundings he'd collapsed in just a few minutes beforehand. It was also at this time, he remembered that he was still very much alive. The intense pounding in his chest confirming so, as well as the one in his head. And with the rejection of death, came the revival of his reality, with a flood of emotions following in its wake. One standing tall above the others.

Complete and utter confusion.

He immediately sprang up with a large gasp, coughing and spitting as he tried to assess the situation from a calm, rational standpoint...

WHAT IN THE FARM FRESH FUCK WAS THAT?

...Well, A for effort.

He got his charred stumps underneath him as he tried to sit up, but failed on account of his limbs feeling like they'd been broken and reassembled in all the wrong places. Seriously, you had to be trying real hard to fail with how fucked up they felt. Instead, he exerted enough force to scoot himself over to the counter. "Ooooh...what happened to my body?" His eyes went wide. "What happened to my voice?" It certainly wasn't a voice that would work well with he, perhaps better associated with she. With this manipulatively seductive rasp, and undertones of a sinister, spiteful streak. The kind of voice you would hear out of a Saturday morning cartoon villain. The kind of voice that would threaten to destroy a protagonist-just it had many times over-with their newest, most diabolical inator ray with a comedically specific prefix, then going on to gloat about how they would take over a specific amount of land, motive changing like they changed pants.

It was ridiculous. It was repulsive. And he absolutely rejected it.

"What is this, some kind of sick joke?" He hissed. Literally, making him cocoon in shock. He parted the dark teal film sprouting from the top of his head and looked down at...his body? No, this isn't right! Last time he checked he wasn't some-

"-Grotesque mishmash between the ass end of a horse, and a squashed insect shot full of holes! Fucking hell, how am I supposed to use these...what the fuck even are these? Hooves? They sure as shit don't look like them. I can’t even type on my keyboard with these useless things, how am I gonna get my assignments done when I’m a bug horse?"

He paused for a moment, blinking his bulging eyes.

"I'm a bug horse!" He wrapped his stumps around his head, feeling the beginnings of hyperventilation make their way up his throat. He tried jumping to his feet, only to once again be acquainted with the ground with a hard crash, ringing out through the hollow walls.

Which was responded by an even harder knock on the other side. "Hey! Uh...Chris, or whatever, what's going on over there? You’re screaming your head off!”

He quickly turned his head, responding on instinct. "Oh...uh, yea-yeah, everything's alright over here. I just slipped and fell, sorry!" He shoved the stumps in his mouth. The wall was silent. Very silent, as he laid there holding his breath.

"...Fine, but could you keep it down, please? My classes aren't till this afternoon, so let me get a few more hours in...” Then the shuffling of sheets as his not so friendly neighbor went back to their slumber.

Not him though. He was now wide awake, completely cleared of drowsiness after hearing what'd just come out of his mouth. That was my voice, it came back! Well...now it's gone again, but it was there! How the hell did he do that? He'd have to solve that mystery later. For now, he had to focus on the bigger issue at hand here. He needed to find out what, how, or possibly even who was behind all of this.

More flickering of sunlight flashed in his face as he turned to the window. Should probably shut the blinds before anyone spots me like this. He clambered his front stumps onto the countertop, groaning as he soon realized he'd need to use his teeth to pull the cord. Gross. He placed it in the center of his mouth, realizing said teeth...and his tongue were much longer than before. And definitely sharper.

But before he pulled them shut, he gave one final gaze down at the campus grounds below. Plenty of other students were already up and about, starting their very normal days. A group of friends chatting as they waited at the bus stop. Couples sitting together at the outdoor tables, coffees and computers out and ready. Commuters driving in circles in sheer desperation to find the closest parking spaces they could. All in all, the physical embodiment of white noise to the naked eye.

Except for one.

One guy walking by himself, slumped posture as he slid past all the other groups and made his way down the sidewalk, buried deep in his phone. It was obvious that this was his first outing in a while, as his pale skin made him a ghost among others, a white sheet draped over a skinny skeleton. Which itself was hidden away behind a pair of sports shorts and a t-shirt with the school's logo. His hair had a terminal case of bedhead, with black waves sticking out all over the place. But he didn't seem to care, as he was about to walk past the front of the building. Letting him get a clear look at his face.

Holy shit, that's me!

Author's Note:

Hear it uptown...

Hear it downtown...

Hear it all around, it's a new story!

Why yes indeed, as I’ve told those who’ve been following since my last-and also first-outing into this whole new world of writing. Which is good for me, as pulling myself away from one project and onto another I’ve found to be extremely helpful in allowing ideas to form much easier. If only the same could be said about my writing process. For me, I can't write straight onto a computer, everything I ever write must go on paper first before typing. Yes, everything.

Let me know what you think, I’m always open to hearing it.

Edit: Upon examination with fresher, well rested eyes unfortunately I must say that the second half of this chapter is well...shit to put it lightly. Or at the very least not up to my personal standards. As such, there will be a revision of this segment (it’s coming soon, hopefully)