(This is a one-shot based on Leslie Carlson, a character created by Can't Get Any Better, and a character featured in four of my stories, and is still living. (Which are Final Destination: Last Laugh, Hunted: The Outbreak, A Nightmare at Camp Crystal Lake and the current 'The Apocalypse.) Here he is recounting his life up until the most recent chapter of The Apocalypse. To those who read about him, see some history, to those who don't, maybe this'll get you interested in my stories. Read on to learn about the man behind the scars.
Scars... scars can be many things. They can be physical, caused by fighting and war; they can also be mental, caused by the horrors of the world. My scars are both physical and mental.
I suppose I should start at the beginning.
I was born in a small country town in England in 1994. It was nice there, everyone knew everyone, doors were kept unlocked, and crime was low, pretty much not there at all. I don't remember much growing initially, but my mum tells... used to tell me I was a quiet boy, unlike most. I hardly ever cried, and they were worried that something was wrong with me.
But I was fine, and I continued to grow and develop up to Primary School. I remember being a combination of nervous and excited. Oh man, how the fell down the well. I was picked on because of my girly hair and my quite feminine looks. You may think it was just normal child behaviour, but people just don't understand. Teachers praise the ones who are the bullies and tell off the victims. I'm not afraid to admit I used to cry into my covers, not willing to talk to my mum or dad, not willing to do anything, really. I just fought through primary school.
This gave me a sense of independence despite being only twelve, because I kept to myself. Man, how I was looking forward to secondary school. I was to be in Year 7, a new start! I was so looking forward to it, as most people from my primary school went to a different school. Once again, I was wrong in thinking I would actually be liked.
My like for flamboyant clothing as well as concentrating on my looks caused me to be called a 'girly-boy' or even sometimes a 'transvestite'. God, kids are so stupid, I doubt they even knew what it meant. It was in Year 9 I found about my... sexual preferences. I won't go into the details, but one link led to another and bam, I saw the beauty of males. The only person I confided in was my best friend (I didn't trust my mum and dad THAT much) but that was the third big mistake I made.
My former best friend was disgusted, and he promptly beat me up, following in the steps of bullies around the school. He spread the news of my homo-sexuality and that was that. I was gone, lost, and alone. There was no-one I could confide in, no-one I could tell my secrets to.
That was the first of my mental scars.
That was until a year later. James Brown was a student recently moved from America. Initially I didn't think much of him; he was tall and broad, a perfect rugby player – whereas I failed miserably in P.E. But then we were partnered together in Science and we got talking. James was hesitant, and he asked me about my sexual orientation. But it wasn't insulting, like everyone else, it was... interested. After that James and I started to talk, and I learnt there was someone like me my age!
James was perfect, and what I saw in him he saw in me. James taught me to stand up for myself, and I grew more confident, and the two of us spent more and more time with each other. I got a few more friends, and I was happy. I even passed my Driver's Test first time at 16, and my dad got me a red BMW as a present. That must've cost a lot, I know.
It was one of my other friend's birthdays, Gordon, I think his name was, and he invited me to the Emporium Cup, a skating competition. As I got there driving my car I got a phone call from James. And he invited me on a date.
My god, the happiness I felt was immense, I felt on top of the world! I promptly cancelled the Emporium Cup and went to James, where we spent the night watching this movie at the cinema, before spending the night talking and chatting about things. That was the best night of my life for sure. It was the next day on the news where I heard the Emporium Stadium had collapsed, killing many and a few survived.
Little did I know this was the start of the end.
I felt more attached to James, saying that I was alive because he invited me on that date. If he hadn't, I would have likely died in there with my friends. A couple of months later, my parents informed me that my aunt Doris was sick and they couldn't go because they were going on a second honeymoon. Aunt Doris was my favourite, ever since I was a small boy, and I decided I wanted to go to America. James was also ecstatic, and wanted me to meet his grandparents. Thus, we left for the Navis Ferry.
It was here I first encountered Rose Milano, although I didn't know that was her name at the time. She went batshit crazy on the ferry, spouting nonsense about a premonition that would destroy the ferry. I didn't believe her, especially when it became true.
Forgetting about Rose for the moment, James and I finally entered New York, and we travelled to the Brooklyn Bridge. Once again this Rose person caused a delay just before we reached the bridge. I remember her look, staring intently at the bridge.
And just like that, the bridge collapsed, killing any who were on it. If Rose hadn't saved us, we'd all be dead.
But Rose made things worse. We were all now on Death's list. Some think of Death as imaginary, a fairy tale, but trust me, Death is real, he's an entity, and he is impossible to kill. I and a group of survivors, led by Paige Callaway and Tanzi Sakamoto tried to beat Death. But soon death started, and we found out Death was personally hunting people, causing death wherever he went.
And the most painful mental scar happened.
I was going with James and a couple of other survivors to a restaurant to persuade a man called Rob Winters to believe in Death. However, when we got there, he was already fighting a possessed Miguel Custado. Death in Miguel let loose and cigarette and caused an explosion from the spilt alchohol. James... James saved us. He pushed me from the restaurant and saved a girl called Jenna Weisller.
At the cost of his own life.
This was a much bigger blow than anything before. My childhood was nothing compared to the pit in my stomach from James death. I felt sick, I felt dead inside. God, that was an awful feeling. I held his burnt body, crying my eyes out. The ambulance staff had trouble getting me off of him, but at the time I knew I wasn't going to let him go. He was my best friend and my lover, he made me me!
When I got to the others, Rose Milano, who I didn't know was possessed at the time, decided to play with my mind. She said that James was cheating with her, and man, was I outraged. Not of James, but of Rose's tenacity. But then I was a death's door, being strangled by a wire.
But I was saved by a returning Jade Skysong, who was in a coma.
Events led up to a final confrontation with Death, where my physical scars came in. I was thrown into a wrecked hotdog cart, scarring my face and popping and eye, which had to be removed.
But Death was defeated, but as Sod's law has to be, Death's dead caused zombies. Now, I could kind of handle Death, but Zombies! I was scared, that's for sure, as my managed at the time, Jeffrey Jebediah was consumed. And anyone we came across was killed, apart from a few. One person I did meet was key, a man by the name of Trent Harvey's.
Trent saved us on multiple occasions, however he and Paige Callaway had an intense rivalry going on, and this effectively resulted in Paige's death at the hand of a zombie. Trent was bitten, but we were saved by the army. Trent was cured, and the survivors of the zombie outbreak were led to camps.
The camp me and 29 other survivors went to was called Camp Crystal Lake. Gee, and I thought it was over. I was wrong. We were hunted at first by a serial killer named Jason Voorhees, and then by a dream dweller called Freddy Krueger. Finally, Death made his triumphant return and opened the gates of hell. Literally.
Thankfully, I was saved by a back-from-the-dead Paige and Victor Kinsley, on orders from William Bludworth.
And thus started the Apocalypse.
Death let loose demons from hell, murderers, rapists, but apparently, a prophecy was foretold of the 'Destined'. These 'Destined' had abilities, and I found out I was one. My ability was basically premonition touch. I could see someone or something's future by touching it. After encountering the demented trap maker Jigsaw and mutant Papa Hades and his family, we were saved!
The survivors, including me, thought we were the only left, but, soon after, it was revealed by Rose Leardel, another back-from-the-dead woman that the gates of hell opened and let free not only demon's, but people who had died innocently as well. The victims. Most died, but many escaped to a base known by Leardel.
And then the happiest thing in my life happened. I learnt that James was alive!
But I haven't seen him at the Base, where I currently am. Not yet. And I'm anxious, I'm scared, I'm so much different from the boy James saved at the cost of his live. I'm scarred, I'm ugly.
What will happen when we meet again?
Will the scars of my life cause a downfall of our friendship, or will it actually cement our relationship even more?
Scars. Physical and Mental. Both affect life so much, but how will they play out in our lives?
No-one knows.