Shrouded Dreams
Welcome to my newest story, Shrouded Dreams. What would happen if you were friends
with Death? And I mean if you were actually friends with the Grim Reaper? I started toying with
this idea about two weeks ago, and it's been buzzing in my head like an annoying fly. I finally
decided to actually post it.
The basic idea of this plot is this: Lizzie and Gordo, through a series of incidents, befriend
the Grim Reaper. They think they are having nervous breakdowns from their college studies, but
they soon discover that it might be a little different to have Death for a friend. Maybe even a little
fun. My apologies if this story might be little strange, but hey, it deals with Death being a good
friend.
And no, this is not a Lizzie McGuire version of the show, Grim and Evil, on Cartoon
Network. This is purely just fun.
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Fate tends to weave itself into complex patterns that only seem to make sense to some
ethereal figures on the other side. Sometimes only one event is needed to create such panic and
pandemonium that could split mountains and fell the sky. Such is the nature of the unknown. For
instance, take Death. A lone figure that mucks through all of the souls of the dead and sends them on
their way. And yet there are still some who escape his bony clutches. But never has Death shown
itself in human form and befriended a mere mortal. Until now. So settle in and listen to the tale of
how two mortals cross the path of Death and yet find an adventure that's out of this world.(Couldn't
resist saying that.)
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"Gordo, that was a great dinner." said Lizzie McGuire.
"And now we head back to my apartment and spend the rest of the night in bliss." David
"Gordo" Gordon looked down at the gas gauge.
"Just as soon as we get gas."
He pulled into a local gas station and looked around. It seemed normal, though the drunk
standing outside gave him slight chills. He pulled up to a pump and began filling his Nissan Xterra
up. Soon it was filled and he was walking towards the store to pay, when all of a sudden, the
drunkard stopped him in his tracks.
"I wouldn't go in there if I was you. You'll regret it."
"But I have to go in to pay for my gas."
"Trust me, in about 15 seconds there won't be anyone to take your money, except that
robber with the .50 Magnum. And he'll take your life to go with it. 10 seconds."
The drunk looked at his watch as if he knew what was going to happen when. Suddenly,
right as Gordo was about to say something, gunshots ripped through the air. He looked inside and
saw the clerk crumple to the floor, a pool of blood bubbling in his chest. Gordo was in shock. He
had seen death in the movies, but he never imagined it to be that bad in the real world. He was just
staring at the now twitching body of the clerk when two strong hands grabbed him by the lapels, and
threw him to the side. When he hit the pavement, he looked up to see the thief running out the store
and hopping into an old beater before speeding away. He looked at the drunk, and was surprised to
see that he was standing like he was sober. But he didn't have time to ponder these thoughts. He got
up and ran towards his car, thinking to hell with paying, time to go.
Lizzie was scared out of her mind when he got back in, screaming in demand to know what's
going on, but she was getting nowhere fast. Gordo just pulled out of the gas station as fast as he
could and didn't stop until he reached a rest stop 5 miles down the road. By then Lizzie's voice was
sore from all the screaming she had been doing. She was scared of what might happen and what had
just transpired.
"David Gordon, I swear, If you don't answer me, I'll..."
"Someone was just killed. Shot."
"Are you sure Gordo?"
"Positive. I saw the guy fall. I didn't get a good look at the killer, though."
Lizzie was frightened real bad. But it didn't help to see a haggard man staring at her from
behind the car.
"Gordo, there's someone behind the car."
He got out and looked behind to see the drunk man from the station.
"What the..."
"Your very lucky you know. You almost became part of the pattern before your time. And I
would have been in very deep trouble if that happened."
"Pattern?"
Yes. The pattern of Death. Had you gone in there, you would have been shot. And Lizzie
too."
"Who the hell are you and what do you want with us?"
"My apologies. In my haste to assure myself that you two were safe, I have forgotten to
introduce myself. I go by many names, the Shadow Collector, Darkman, the Boatman, Grim
Reaper. I prefer Death myself."
"Your Death."
"Yes."
"You can't be, You don't have the robe or the scythe or any of that stuff."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot I was masquerading as a mortal. Excuse me."
He pulled out a gun, pointed it at his head, and pulled the trigger, spraying his brains
everywhere. But where the drunk man once stood, there was someone else, now holding the gun. He
was wearing a black cloak with the hood down. However it was not the cloak most would assume
the Grim Reaper would wear. It was longer, and buttoned only at the waist, making it flap in the
slight breeze. He was also fitted with some kind of formal wearing that was all black but didn't seem
like any kind of clothing in it's category. His boots reached up to his knees, and his pants hung
slightly over the top. He also wore leather gloves, with a strange symbol on the back of the hand. At
his side was three swords. Gordo stood in awe at the new person, amazed that anyone could look
like that.
The man simply put the gun away and said "So where do I begin?"
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I hope you enjoy this. I think it has a lot of potential as a story. All of the possibilities. Till
next time... kikiki... mamama... kikiki... mamama...
Welcome to my newest story, Shrouded Dreams. What would happen if you were friends
with Death? And I mean if you were actually friends with the Grim Reaper? I started toying with
this idea about two weeks ago, and it's been buzzing in my head like an annoying fly. I finally
decided to actually post it.
The basic idea of this plot is this: Lizzie and Gordo, through a series of incidents, befriend
the Grim Reaper. They think they are having nervous breakdowns from their college studies, but
they soon discover that it might be a little different to have Death for a friend. Maybe even a little
fun. My apologies if this story might be little strange, but hey, it deals with Death being a good
friend.
And no, this is not a Lizzie McGuire version of the show, Grim and Evil, on Cartoon
Network. This is purely just fun.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fate tends to weave itself into complex patterns that only seem to make sense to some
ethereal figures on the other side. Sometimes only one event is needed to create such panic and
pandemonium that could split mountains and fell the sky. Such is the nature of the unknown. For
instance, take Death. A lone figure that mucks through all of the souls of the dead and sends them on
their way. And yet there are still some who escape his bony clutches. But never has Death shown
itself in human form and befriended a mere mortal. Until now. So settle in and listen to the tale of
how two mortals cross the path of Death and yet find an adventure that's out of this world.(Couldn't
resist saying that.)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Gordo, that was a great dinner." said Lizzie McGuire.
"And now we head back to my apartment and spend the rest of the night in bliss." David
"Gordo" Gordon looked down at the gas gauge.
"Just as soon as we get gas."
He pulled into a local gas station and looked around. It seemed normal, though the drunk
standing outside gave him slight chills. He pulled up to a pump and began filling his Nissan Xterra
up. Soon it was filled and he was walking towards the store to pay, when all of a sudden, the
drunkard stopped him in his tracks.
"I wouldn't go in there if I was you. You'll regret it."
"But I have to go in to pay for my gas."
"Trust me, in about 15 seconds there won't be anyone to take your money, except that
robber with the .50 Magnum. And he'll take your life to go with it. 10 seconds."
The drunk looked at his watch as if he knew what was going to happen when. Suddenly,
right as Gordo was about to say something, gunshots ripped through the air. He looked inside and
saw the clerk crumple to the floor, a pool of blood bubbling in his chest. Gordo was in shock. He
had seen death in the movies, but he never imagined it to be that bad in the real world. He was just
staring at the now twitching body of the clerk when two strong hands grabbed him by the lapels, and
threw him to the side. When he hit the pavement, he looked up to see the thief running out the store
and hopping into an old beater before speeding away. He looked at the drunk, and was surprised to
see that he was standing like he was sober. But he didn't have time to ponder these thoughts. He got
up and ran towards his car, thinking to hell with paying, time to go.
Lizzie was scared out of her mind when he got back in, screaming in demand to know what's
going on, but she was getting nowhere fast. Gordo just pulled out of the gas station as fast as he
could and didn't stop until he reached a rest stop 5 miles down the road. By then Lizzie's voice was
sore from all the screaming she had been doing. She was scared of what might happen and what had
just transpired.
"David Gordon, I swear, If you don't answer me, I'll..."
"Someone was just killed. Shot."
"Are you sure Gordo?"
"Positive. I saw the guy fall. I didn't get a good look at the killer, though."
Lizzie was frightened real bad. But it didn't help to see a haggard man staring at her from
behind the car.
"Gordo, there's someone behind the car."
He got out and looked behind to see the drunk man from the station.
"What the..."
"Your very lucky you know. You almost became part of the pattern before your time. And I
would have been in very deep trouble if that happened."
"Pattern?"
Yes. The pattern of Death. Had you gone in there, you would have been shot. And Lizzie
too."
"Who the hell are you and what do you want with us?"
"My apologies. In my haste to assure myself that you two were safe, I have forgotten to
introduce myself. I go by many names, the Shadow Collector, Darkman, the Boatman, Grim
Reaper. I prefer Death myself."
"Your Death."
"Yes."
"You can't be, You don't have the robe or the scythe or any of that stuff."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot I was masquerading as a mortal. Excuse me."
He pulled out a gun, pointed it at his head, and pulled the trigger, spraying his brains
everywhere. But where the drunk man once stood, there was someone else, now holding the gun. He
was wearing a black cloak with the hood down. However it was not the cloak most would assume
the Grim Reaper would wear. It was longer, and buttoned only at the waist, making it flap in the
slight breeze. He was also fitted with some kind of formal wearing that was all black but didn't seem
like any kind of clothing in it's category. His boots reached up to his knees, and his pants hung
slightly over the top. He also wore leather gloves, with a strange symbol on the back of the hand. At
his side was three swords. Gordo stood in awe at the new person, amazed that anyone could look
like that.
The man simply put the gun away and said "So where do I begin?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope you enjoy this. I think it has a lot of potential as a story. All of the possibilities. Till
next time... kikiki... mamama... kikiki... mamama...