Or Had They...? Chapter 1
A/N: I'm trying something completely different, starting with this installment. The entire story will be chaptered. This is chapter 1, then chapter 2... but it's still "Or Had They...?" I am going to do this with the other two as well. Tell me if you like the way this one goes... and then I'll do the other ones if you like it. ...also, if you haven't read the other two in a while, or at all, I would suggest doing so... others chapters would probably make more sense.
He trudged through the streets, thin jacket barely keeping him warm. He could hear the familiar words echoing in his mind.
...I've done a lot...
Oh yes, he had done a lot. Quite a lot - more than he had intended. A gust of colder wind blew his hair every which way.
...God knows I've tried...
He paused for a moment, standing the middle of the sidewalk, others brushing past him, not caring or noticing the man standing there.
...To find the truth...
Memories flickered through his mind. It happened so recently, but seemed so far away. All the events of 'that night' were blended together into one final moment.
...I've even lied...
Truth meant nothing in this world. Truth showed your emotions... your weakness. Truth showed that you were weak. So he lied to everyone. He lied to himself... he lied to her.
...But all I know...
Knowledge... you didn't need that either. Truth and knowledge - supposed good traits to have, but worthless when thrown out into the real world. And this was apparently the real world. He turned a corner, only then realizing he had continued walking. The words pounded harder into his mind, imprinting themselves there.
...is down inside...
Words weren't supposed to mean this much. Words were just letters strung together for means of communication.
His apartment home was approaching. Smiling at a sign of comfort, he almost jogged to get to it. But then he remembered... that awful fight they had had. That's why he was walking in the bitter cold. But fights couldn't go on forever, could they?
Approaching the home, he squinted.
"Oh my god..." this thoughts raced as the last lyrics played out in his mind.
...I'm bleeding...
The silver blood was painted across the door... it was her blood. Silver blood was rare, about one in 100 Transylvanians inherited silver blood. Riff-Raff ran to the house that he and his sister had shared since both parents had left them one night...
Magenta's blood was on the door, painted in a perfect lighting bolt.
A/N: I'm trying something completely different, starting with this installment. The entire story will be chaptered. This is chapter 1, then chapter 2... but it's still "Or Had They...?" I am going to do this with the other two as well. Tell me if you like the way this one goes... and then I'll do the other ones if you like it. ...also, if you haven't read the other two in a while, or at all, I would suggest doing so... others chapters would probably make more sense.
He trudged through the streets, thin jacket barely keeping him warm. He could hear the familiar words echoing in his mind.
...I've done a lot...
Oh yes, he had done a lot. Quite a lot - more than he had intended. A gust of colder wind blew his hair every which way.
...God knows I've tried...
He paused for a moment, standing the middle of the sidewalk, others brushing past him, not caring or noticing the man standing there.
...To find the truth...
Memories flickered through his mind. It happened so recently, but seemed so far away. All the events of 'that night' were blended together into one final moment.
...I've even lied...
Truth meant nothing in this world. Truth showed your emotions... your weakness. Truth showed that you were weak. So he lied to everyone. He lied to himself... he lied to her.
...But all I know...
Knowledge... you didn't need that either. Truth and knowledge - supposed good traits to have, but worthless when thrown out into the real world. And this was apparently the real world. He turned a corner, only then realizing he had continued walking. The words pounded harder into his mind, imprinting themselves there.
...is down inside...
Words weren't supposed to mean this much. Words were just letters strung together for means of communication.
His apartment home was approaching. Smiling at a sign of comfort, he almost jogged to get to it. But then he remembered... that awful fight they had had. That's why he was walking in the bitter cold. But fights couldn't go on forever, could they?
Approaching the home, he squinted.
"Oh my god..." this thoughts raced as the last lyrics played out in his mind.
...I'm bleeding...
The silver blood was painted across the door... it was her blood. Silver blood was rare, about one in 100 Transylvanians inherited silver blood. Riff-Raff ran to the house that he and his sister had shared since both parents had left them one night...
Magenta's blood was on the door, painted in a perfect lighting bolt.