A Pale, Gentle Blur By Crimson Nightmare

Summary:

There is a distance

Between two lines

Insanity on one end

Pure sense in the next

Four are now united

Which paths will they choose?

Of keen eyes on my side

And yours with the lies

Keep me posted

If you will

Choose with madness as no rules apply!

I will watch while they will decide

Like a pale, gentle blur

That silently passed by

Declaimer: Lord of the Flies belongs to W. Golding. No money is made from this, so no suing please.

A/N: Here¡¦s chapter four, the longgggggggggg waited one (if anyone¡¦s still waiting for it, that is¡K.) I¡¦m sorry it took me this long to remember to update again, guys, but I¡¦ve been trying to survive in my real life, which happens to be a not-very-easy one. Well, I won¡¦t keep you waiting. So here it is¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K..

Enjoy!!

MUST-READS:

I added about five years onto the boys' age for the sake of logical sex scenes.

Some changes will be made to the plot of the original book.

Quotes are taken from the original book; I will not list them in declaimer because there are quite a few of them.

New setting: After the boys came back into civilization, four or so years after that.

I am not associating the new setting with the actual history of Britain at the time. I'm simply using today's society as the new setting. (It's too much work to do the actual time - for those who know me; you know how lazy I can be.)


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A Pale, Gentle Blur By C.N.

Chapter 4: Rebound

Jack picked himself up slowly, finding it hard not to stagger. He tried breathing slowly to calm himself down, but was frightened again as a rumbling sound of thunder suddenly struck mercilessly. He looked around and found himself on a small, void, black-concreted street. Then he felt a large drop of rain hitting his nose out of nowhere, and looked up at the sky as if in demanding why it had to choose to rain now of all times?

The sky turned darker as heavy rain poured down from the black clouds. It¡¦s funny when everything is dark and dim they seemed to be able to look like anything. For example, that large balloon-cup on the newly opened coffee shop roof; it looked like a large rock on a cliff to Jack. He gulped dryly, trying not to overuse his imagination; he turned and loitered on the street without knowing which way was home.

A dark figure was at the end of the street.

Jack looked up and saw yet another person on this pitiful earth had decided to be out here with him miserably ¡V only the other one had a dark green raincoat on, which was better than him ¡V standing in the rain soaked from head to toe. He moaned inwardly. Why does everything bad happen to him? He walked on, still sinking deeper into his little world of self-pitying, and walked pass the dark-hooded figure that was walking in his way, mumbling something.

Jack dragged his feet on, feeling the raindrops dripping down his red hair, and another thunder rolled again. He cleared his mind a little, and just as he was several steps away from the raincoated figure, he stopped dead.

¡§Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Bash her in.¡¨ A low voice whispered.

Flashes of fire, smoke, and blood suddenly exploded in Jack¡¦s mind, and he almost screamed out loud in fear. He stood there, back still turned from the dark muttering figure ¡V he was afraid to look, to discover what he¡¦ll find behind his back.

¡§Kill the pig.¡¨

A step closer.

¡§Cut her throat.¡¨

Jack turned around.

¡§Bash her in.¡¨ He finished for the low voice that chanted softly, but revealed a pure radiance of evilness that roared just like the thunder.

¡§Sharpen a stick at both ends.¡¨ The dark figure was looking at him with glittering black eyes from under the raincoat hood.

¡§It¡¦s a gift.¡¨ The low voice chanted.

¡§For the Beast.¡¨ Jack trembled.

¡§Then,¡¨ The figure pulled down the raincoat hood. ¡§Maybe he won¡¦t bother us anymore.¡¨

A dark pair of eyes watched the red-haired man like a cat looking at its prey ¡V it is thinking about how to play with the little toy first. ¡§Hello.¡¨ The blood red lips smiled, ¡§Chief.¡¨

Jack felt like choking.

***

Simon¡¦s hand was limp, but there was a little pulse still throbbing under his wrist. Ralph raised the pale hand and let it touch his cheek softly. A cream-colored flush rose under the skin of the slim fingers, and the fair-haired young man smiled a bit, as if convincing himself that Simon really will wake up one day ¡V even if the doctors told him that the chances were small.

He was shooed out of the patient¡¦s room by Simon¡¦s current nurse ¡V Mrs. Dorsey, a plump woman with a heart of a nun. She was treated Simon as if he was her own son, and even though she shoos Ralph out of the room every time, she would stuff him up with her rock-hard homemade cookies on his way out. He smiled a bit and accepted the little treats and left with a quiet look of goodbye to the young man on the bed.

And so he was back into the rotten society called mankind again. He walked out of his sanctuary and returned to the dark world outside ¡V by now it was pouring rain outside. He held newspapers over his head and walked amongst the busy street. Different colors of umbrellas were being flashed amongst the different hued cars. Different designs of fashion plastic models decorated different edifices. As the blurring raindrops blended all the hectic colors together, Ralph could almost make out a blazing fire, a bloody dance, and a glittering white conch that was splattered into pieces, flashing its white light here and there.

He looked at his watch ¡V twelve thirty-three. He should be back at the office by one, so he would go and have a cup of coffee with a box of chicken-fingers for lunch ¡V as he always does. He had never left his daily routine behind, never, for he could not stand anything out of order again. He quickly erased that dangerous thought from his head and went on to the fast-food restaurant that he had always dined in and sat down at the same table in the corner beside the glass window. He ordered a cup of coffee and a box of chicken-fingers, as he had planned, and sat back, both enjoying and suffering the blurry abstract art of crowded umbrellas and traffic-jammed streetcars.

***

¡§What¡Kwhat¡KWho, who are you?¡¨ Jack sank onto his knees.

¡§Yours.¡¨

¡§What? I¡K¡¨ Then the color from his cheeks drained painfully fast as the single word hit him straight in the head. ¡§Mine.¡¨ He repeated as if hypnotized.

¡§All yours.¡¨

Oh my gosh. Why? Why does he have to come back? I didn¡¦t do anything to him! No, wait, I did. I did a hell lot of things to him. But he was willing! It was not my fault! Please, oh, please, please tell me you¡¦re not Roger¡K¡§Roger?¡¨

¡§Yes, Chief?¡¨

¡§Stop calling me that!¡¨ Jack snapped, and then taken aback as a crooked grin appeared on the other man¡¦s face. ¡§What¡¦s so funny?¡¨

¡§Nothing, Jack.¡¨

Then a long silence followed. It wasn¡¦t one of those friendly or romantic silences; instead, it was a deadly space in time that made Jack felt like he was back hunting again. Raindrops fell on Roger¡¦s dark hair, and formed little droplets at the end of each black strand. Then Jack noticed ¡V Roger had unbelievably long hair.

He stammered, ¡§You¡Kyou have long hair.¡¨

The blood-red lipped-grin widened. ¡§Yes, Jack, I left my hair growing.¡¨

¡§That¡¦s nice.¡¨ Jack croaked, as if he was complimenting on a cup of English tea. He wondered for a bit, for the fact that all kids (that he knew of) that went back into society, had all had at very least an aftermath of keeping their hair clipped and cut neatly. Ralph, for example, had his hair cut to a clean, modern-styled format. Even for him, which was quite obvious, he had chopped off as much hair as he could after he had gotten back. Roger, however, seemed to like the fact that his hair was creeping into his eyes, the black locks wobbled a bit as the dark eyelashes blinked from time to time. The long hair at the back was even more unbelievable ¡V it was to the point where the ends of the dark hair covered the back, lower than the chest.

Roger seemed to have noticed what the other man was thinking, so he explained with a dark voice that made Jack regret ever even looked at the man¡¦s long hair, ¡§It¡¦s to cover up the scar, Jack. The scar you made on my back.¡¨

Another dangerous silence followed, and Jack gulped once or twice as the pair of cat-like, dark eyes gazed at him without expression. Why was everyone in his past showing up today? Why today? Why¡Koh! What¡¦s the use?

¡§Listen, Roger.¡¨ He cleared his throat, ¡§I don¡¦t know what you want by showing up and scaring the hell out of me like this -- ¡¨

¡§Oh?¡¨ Roger¡¦s black voice floated through the air again, ¡§You¡¦re scared, Chief?¡¨

¡§I said don¡¦t call me that!¡¨ Jack said agitatedly.

¡§What¡¦s wrong, Jack?¡¨ The other man taunted him, ¡§Afraid of what you did? Afraid of what you did to me? Afraid of me?¡¨

¡§No! I --¡¨ For a moment there he was going to shout into Roger¡¦s face that the man had been willing at the time, and that they were all stupid horny teenagers and didn¡¦t know what they were doing, but then that high-pitched ¡¥No!¡¦ reminded him of a painful history with Ralph, where he had left Ralph¡¦s group, announcing that he would go off by himself. He shivered unknowingly, and glanced up at Roger again. ¡§Just ¡V What do you want?¡¨

¡§A lot of things.¡¨ The dark eyes teased and taunted him, ¡§It would take a long, long time to make you understand what I want, Jack.¡¨ The last word had been added on mockingly, and the man smiled in a way that got on Jack¡¦s nerves.

¡§What?!¡¨ Jack bawled. ¡§Would you just stop playing games with me? What possibly can I give you anyways? I¡¦m a loser in this world. I can¡¦t work, I can¡¦t speak without making a fool of myself, I can¡¦t stand being in a small room, and I can¡¦t even stand eating pork. I¡¦m a pathetic, pathetic, bloody loser! What POSSIBLY could you want? Roger, tell me! What?¡¨

¡§That was a well-made speech.¡¨ The face smirked. ¡§But I¡¦m sure there¡¦s a lot more I can find useful from you.¡¨

¡§Like what?¡¨

Roger smiled. This was getting interesting. ¡§For example, your home.¡¨

¡§What? Don¡¦t you have a place to go to?¡¨

¡§No, I want to live in your home.¡¨ An inexorable statement.

¡§Why would you want to live in my house? And whatever made you think that I would let you just parade into my life like this?¡¨ He demanded, index finger jabbing in the air.

¡§I want to live in your home because I deserve to come back and wreck your life. You deserve to be destroyed because you are a stupid loser that did something very evil in the past. I know that you will have to let me in because you did this -- ¡¨ He suddenly flipped off the top part of his raincoat, turning around and revealing the set of scar on his back to Jack. ¡§ - to me. And you must be destroyed mercilessly because you have been a bloody thief, murderer, and loser all your life. You should die.¡¨

Yes, blaming it all on him. Evil works in a lot of ways, and one of its favorite implement, is enticing one into believing in its purpose. Luring and persuasive, it was such a fun game to play.

Jack fainted.

***

Ralph sat up that night. He couldn¡¦t sleep.

No, he should sleep now, because in three hours he would be going to an interview for a financial job he was hoping to get from a large company called K-Max. It was a company that founded all sorts of other little companies, and then, financially, torn them apart. He didn¡¦t know that, of course, all that he knew was that it was a large company that had someone call him up and arranged an interview because the company was interested in his advance performance in technology field from his records. Technology, hmm, of course he thrived at it, because it was the farthest thing from wilderness and savagery.

He shook away that thought as if afraid of it, and got up to start his new day since he was awake already. He got dressed in formal clothes, and groomed his hair neatly. Things had to be in order and must be all the same. No changes, ever. He walked into the small kitchen in his flat and made his usual breakfast ¡V cornflake cereal and milk. Then, he sat down on his little black sofa and watched the TV while waiting for the several hours that are to be spent before the interview time comes.

Pictures on the television never got into his mind, for he was thinking many things at a time. Blurs of blue, white and red were flashing on the screen. Sounds of a reporter saying something about a fire burning down a certain hospital ¡V Hospital??!!

***

Dark corners of wet, dirty street walk, where civilized people often look at them with disgust. Do they know the beauty of all this? Do they understand the freedom and numbing pleasure it brings? No, he guessed. They don¡¦t understand. Roger looked up to a shabby apartment.

An old streetlight stood there by the path, giving the last bit of light it could afford. Dim light shone on a face that mocked rules and order. He wanted disruption; he wanted pleasure, desires fulfilled. He wanted evilness, though he might not have known that he did. It didn¡¦t matter, because he was so good at it.

He walked across the lawn, right through the few light yellow flowers growing in his way, and stopped in front of the security phone. He purposely faced the camera.

¡§Sir.¡¨ His eyes looked sincere and filled with concern, he said, ¡§You know Jack, right? He lives here? I¡¦m his old friend. He got drunk on our little reunion,¡¨ He smiled softly, knocking the fainted man leaning on his shoulder with small mockery, ¡§and I don¡¦t know where he kept the keys. Could you please let us in?¡¨ He looked at the security guard on the other side of the glass window, and smirked inwardly as the guard¡¦s face relaxed and let them in. ¡§Thank you, sir.¡¨ He said honestly, ¡§You saved us a lot of trouble.¡¨

They went inside, and the security guard even helped them hold the elevator as Roger dragged Jack into it, and waited until the guard opened Jack¡¦s apartment for them. Roger grinned and said thank you again. As the guard left, the standing man closed the door and dragged the unconscious man across the untidy floor and onto the one and only sofa in the little home of Jack¡¦s. The dark eyes glanced around cunningly and Roger took off his raincoat. His eyes glittered darkly as he felt the cool temperature invading his bare skin.

On his back was still the line ¡§MINE¡¨

Only now he¡¦d like to interpret it as - ¡§Everything is MINE.¡¨

***

Ralph came as fast as he could, and have used his cell phone over and over again on the way ¡V trying to contact the authorities, asking what hospital it was that was on fire. Fire, yes, he still feared its power. What¡¦s more, he could not let that particular hospital be on fire ¡V it just¡Kcan¡¦t.

His heart pounded faster and faster as the cab drove him closer and closer to the hospital where Simon laid there, undisturbed by anything happening around him. The more he thought about it, the more his hands felt cold sweat. He fingered the end leather linings of the cab seat and moved uncomfortably, hoping he could fly to the hospital right now.

The red light. The red light. WHY IS THERE ALWAYS RED LIGHTS WHEN YOU NEED TO GET SOMEWHERE FAST???? He clutched his fist once, twice, and thrice, controlling himself from losing his temper. Finally they were there. He looked from behind the cab window, and saw a perfectly still white hospital sitting there on the street intersection as it always had been. There was no fire ¡V that would be some other goddamned hospital that HAD to sound so seriously much like this one.

He got out of the cab, tipping the cab driver as he got off, and walked on the sidewalk a bit faintly. Now that he¡¦s here, he might as well get inside and see Simon before he had to go for the interview that the business company had set for him. It was not yet visitor¡¦s hour, so he entered the hospital cautiously, and made sure that no nurse that knew his face would recognize him along the way.

He stole into the white room quietly, and waited behind the door until Simon¡¦s nurse ¡V Mrs. Dorsey, walked out the room with her usual reporting notepad on her right hand. He looked around the room and made sure there was absolutely no burn marks, fire, or anything that suggested flames to make sure he wasn¡¦t just dreaming and Simon was really, really safe. He had to make sure Simon was safe. He just had to.

Simon was safe. He sighed in relief. He knew he was being plain stupidly overprotective, but he just couldn¡¦t help it. He walked over to the bed quickly and pecked the pale young man on the bed. ¡§Hey.¡¨ He whispered as he sat down. ¡§You scared the hell out of me there, kiddo.¡¨ He chuckled tiredly, ¡§Do you even know how terrified I was when I heard that there was a hospital on fire?¡¨ Then, as if saying back to himself, ¡§No, I guess you don¡¦t. But, hey, it got me here, didn¡¦t it?¡¨ He reached over and held the pale hand that had lain there limply.

¡§You know, ¡¨ He suddenly laughed bitterly, ¡§Sometimes seriously I envy you for being able to lie here so peacefully, sleeping forever.¡¨ He looked down on the delicate fingers he was holding so preciously, ¡§but then I would think how,¡¨ He looked away quickly, as if frightened by the disrupted emotions that hit him like waves, ¡§how sadly I would end my life right away if I don¡¦t keep believing that you¡¦ll wake up.¡¨

¡§Will you wake up? Simon, will you wake up?¡¨ He said softly, almost chanting. ¡§¡¦Cause then I would become different again.¡¨ He tilted his head slightly in thought, ¡§And I honestly don¡¦t know if that¡¦s a good thing anymore, sometimes.¡¨ Then he shook his head suddenly with a wild gesture, ¡§No! I can¡¦t think that way! You have to wake up soon, Simon.¡¨ He realized, ¡§Or I think I¡¦m going to give up hope on living, too.¡¨ His eyes dimmed.

The room seemed to have darkened.

He left soon afterwards.

A new kind of need appeared ¡V the kind that desperately requires a miracle to fulfill.

***

Rain. Rain. I find the sky raining.

Laugh. Laugh. I find me laughing.

Cry. Cry. I find him crying.

By. By. I passed him by.

Are you afraid?

Yes I am

Are you there yet?

Where?

In Hell.

Oh

Yes I am

I smiled

TBC¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K

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A/N: Well, now that we¡¦ve got that out of the way, I think it is appropriate for me to bow here and say: Let us now enter the war zone!!! Um, or something like that. Chapter four opens up several new events that are about to happen. One of which that deals with Simon, as most of you should already guessed. Try and guess what the other events are! We¡¦ll now continue on¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K..

Big thanks to all who reviewed, and to all who are reading this.

Replies for Reviews:

Redroe23102: *g* Yeah, I know, Roger won¡¦t ever suit the H.E.A. would he? Well, according to my sick and twisted brain, Roger will not get a real H.E.A. but he will get an ending other than death. That I can tell you. I don¡¦t really like killing any of the characters, no matter how evil they are. Plus, I don¡¦t really hate Roger. He¡¦s just plain evil that¡¦s all (like that makes it all okay *sweatdrops*)¡K.Oh? A fic you¡¦re doing? Simon living? What more could I ask? Give! Give! w

Aftertaste of a Razorblade: A Roger/Simon fic? I¡¦m so curious! I wanna see! Don¡¦t fight it off! (she cries hotly) Oh, and I won¡¦t kill you if you like Jack/Ralph. I¡¦ll just torture Jack even more¡K(laughs sadistically) You probably won¡¦t like how I¡¦m characterizing the grown-up Jack now, though, because he¡¦s became a wimp and so on. But I assure you that his characteristics will change dramatically in the future, now that Roger is bringing great disturbance into his fearful little world. Thank you also, for the support in me quitting. I¡¦m somewhat relieved to say that I¡¦m now out of the thinking-about-it-every-single-second phase. Am continuing with some fear but lots of determination.

Rylyn: Oh, no, it¡¦s okay to give me longgggggg reviews, because when I review, I take up a whole page essay or so. *g* Exams. That. Was. Hell!!!!!! I did badly in some subjects and some good. Ah~ *kicks bunny rabbit and so on* Your favorite chapter, was it? Thank you! Yeah, when I wrote it I had the most violent image in my mind, that is, before they started having sex. (And she talks about it as if her mind wasn¡¦t filled with twisted thoughts. No, really!) Anyways, the poetry at the end of chapter 3 was a real spur of the moment ¡V when I felt the dazed pulse at my temple pumping strongly. It was five o¡¦clock in the morning. I hadn¡¦t slept at all and went directly to school. I was crazy. Hope you feel intrigued by this chapter, as it did not have a lot of deliciousness in it but lots of opened up questions waiting to be answered. And now I have to go back to my little nest and pull at my hair to figure what the answers really are¡K.*faints*

Allie: Ah~ No! Don¡¦t have to beg, honey, I¡¦m not that cruel. (Or, rather, I try not to be and updates as soon as possible~) Here¡¦s chapter 4 and I hope it eases your mind for at least a while. (While I work on chapter 5 that is¡K¡K¡K¡K) Lets see¡K¡K¡KThere is just so much ways to play around at the four boys¡¦ worlds that I¡¦m almost hazy-minded right now¡K¡K¡K¡K..Well, off to daze myself a little more.

Reader: Wow. That¡¦s all I can say. Wow. Your review was like reading my mind in a few simple sentences. Wow. You¡¦ve put it in a clearer way than I could¡¦ve done. Thank you! Yes, the poem was about Jack and his racing little brain. (Um¡K.in an elegant way of putting it¡K¡K¡Kyes¡K¡K¡K.) The world he was in was totally in disorder and chaos. He did not ¡¥want¡¦ to live anymore. He was in complete desperation of getting away from the one controlling his soul every single day. I didn¡¦t work on another poem this chapter, but I hope you¡¦ll come back and read more too~^-^

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That¡¦s it for now, folks. Now what we shall do is ¡V I go off to my little hell and come up with some more crazy plots, and you guys review (babbling on, rambling on, and so on¡K¡K¡K.). Don¡¦t make me ask for an one-page essay on this *snickers* So review! Now! o

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