Thanks to all my reviewers. You mean the difference in my life.
~*~*~*~* Tell Me Why ~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*
When Kurt entered the room, he was surprised at what he saw. Chris was in his bed, cowering, salty stains on his cheeks. Stephanie was in a chair, staring into space, her eyes unfocused, frightened.
"Chris? Stephanie?" He entered cautiously. "Steph, what's up?"
Stephanie moved her head, it seemed, with a great deal of movement. Her eyes were red and bright. "Chris is sick, Kurt. He's sick real bad."
Kurt nodded, his eyes looking over Chris, who was staring at the ceiling. "I know, Steph. The doctor's on her way, but-"
"No, Kurt, you don't see," Stephanie said, urgently. "He's sick!"
"I know he's sick," Kurt answered, puzzled. "That's why he's here. Why are you guys just sitting here? I expected a little more energy from you two."
Stephanie turned her head to gaze at Chris. "I don't understand. It's stupid. It's not possible. It's a hallucination I had out of sympathy."
Kurt started to feel flustered. "Steph, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Trees."
Kurt could barely hear the word that fell from Stephanie's lips.
"Trees, and a dog." Her voice was scratchy. "Trees and a dog flying with its mouth open, glowing."
"Stephanie . . ." He was at a loss for words. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Suddenly a voice resonated from the door.
"Well, I do," said Dr. Simmons as she opened the door and stepped into the room. "I have to take a look at my patient and make sure he's alright."
"Doctor," Kurt said, nodding. "This is Stephanie McMahon and you already know me."
"Hello," Simmons said curtly to Stephanie and went to the bed. "Well, Chris, how are you feeling?"
Chris looked at her dully, his eyes tearing away from the ceiling. "Not too well, doc. I really don't think I am."
"Well, we'll just check you over . . . a few tests will do the trick. Now sit up."
Chris started to oblige, but suddenly fell back. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*~*~*
~~*"Satchel! Satchel, come back! Get back here, you bad dog! Get back here now!"
He ran after Satchel, chasing him. The dog had escaped in the early morning hours and now he was in a speed race with his dog. Satchel was a big dog, part German shepherd, part greyhound, and he was a fast. The dog raced across the empty green field, flying toward the trees.
"Satchel! Sit! Stay!" He ran furiously, pumping his legs. Satchel was a good dog, but sometimes he got out of hand. And lately he had been a very bad dog, barking and biting at anybody who came near him, even his master. His master's father had said the dog might have rabies or another disease. He hoped not. Satchel didn't need this; he was a good dog.
"Satchel, come back!"
Suddenly he stopped dead. He heard a scream from inside the forest and snarls, growls, screams. He heard a high-pitched scream of horror and one of pain.
"SATCHEL!" Fearing for his dog, he increased his pace and ran into the forest.
Suddenly he stopped, horrified. Blood covered the ground, pooled in corner. Another scream rose from behind him. He turned.
There stood Satchel, covered in blood, his teeth bared, wickedly curved, glowing. His eyes were nothing but squints, his forehead drawn back in wrinkles. His tail stood on end and he was puffed to his fullest height. Blood stained his fur. His muscles coiled, bended, taunt.
"Satchel!"
The dog leapt forward, his paws outstretched.
He screamed.
~*~*~*~*
Mark Callaway woke up screaming.
~*~*~*~*
The man standing under the shadow of the entrance to the hospital smiled. His digital clock rang shrilly and he turned off the alarm at precisely 10:54 PM. He smiled as he looked up at the endless windows of the hospital.
Somewhere up there, Chris Irvine was falling back and screaming at the images hit him.
Somewhere up there, Kurt Angle and Stephanie McMahon were experiencing waves of nausea and pain.
Somewhere, Mark Callaway was waking up screaming.
He only needed three more players and his playing field would be complete.
He smiled again. He could almost taste victory.
Rain started to fall.
~*~*~*~*~*
Hope you guys enjoy it.
~*~*~*~* Tell Me Why ~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*
When Kurt entered the room, he was surprised at what he saw. Chris was in his bed, cowering, salty stains on his cheeks. Stephanie was in a chair, staring into space, her eyes unfocused, frightened.
"Chris? Stephanie?" He entered cautiously. "Steph, what's up?"
Stephanie moved her head, it seemed, with a great deal of movement. Her eyes were red and bright. "Chris is sick, Kurt. He's sick real bad."
Kurt nodded, his eyes looking over Chris, who was staring at the ceiling. "I know, Steph. The doctor's on her way, but-"
"No, Kurt, you don't see," Stephanie said, urgently. "He's sick!"
"I know he's sick," Kurt answered, puzzled. "That's why he's here. Why are you guys just sitting here? I expected a little more energy from you two."
Stephanie turned her head to gaze at Chris. "I don't understand. It's stupid. It's not possible. It's a hallucination I had out of sympathy."
Kurt started to feel flustered. "Steph, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Trees."
Kurt could barely hear the word that fell from Stephanie's lips.
"Trees, and a dog." Her voice was scratchy. "Trees and a dog flying with its mouth open, glowing."
"Stephanie . . ." He was at a loss for words. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Suddenly a voice resonated from the door.
"Well, I do," said Dr. Simmons as she opened the door and stepped into the room. "I have to take a look at my patient and make sure he's alright."
"Doctor," Kurt said, nodding. "This is Stephanie McMahon and you already know me."
"Hello," Simmons said curtly to Stephanie and went to the bed. "Well, Chris, how are you feeling?"
Chris looked at her dully, his eyes tearing away from the ceiling. "Not too well, doc. I really don't think I am."
"Well, we'll just check you over . . . a few tests will do the trick. Now sit up."
Chris started to oblige, but suddenly fell back. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*~*~*
~~*"Satchel! Satchel, come back! Get back here, you bad dog! Get back here now!"
He ran after Satchel, chasing him. The dog had escaped in the early morning hours and now he was in a speed race with his dog. Satchel was a big dog, part German shepherd, part greyhound, and he was a fast. The dog raced across the empty green field, flying toward the trees.
"Satchel! Sit! Stay!" He ran furiously, pumping his legs. Satchel was a good dog, but sometimes he got out of hand. And lately he had been a very bad dog, barking and biting at anybody who came near him, even his master. His master's father had said the dog might have rabies or another disease. He hoped not. Satchel didn't need this; he was a good dog.
"Satchel, come back!"
Suddenly he stopped dead. He heard a scream from inside the forest and snarls, growls, screams. He heard a high-pitched scream of horror and one of pain.
"SATCHEL!" Fearing for his dog, he increased his pace and ran into the forest.
Suddenly he stopped, horrified. Blood covered the ground, pooled in corner. Another scream rose from behind him. He turned.
There stood Satchel, covered in blood, his teeth bared, wickedly curved, glowing. His eyes were nothing but squints, his forehead drawn back in wrinkles. His tail stood on end and he was puffed to his fullest height. Blood stained his fur. His muscles coiled, bended, taunt.
"Satchel!"
The dog leapt forward, his paws outstretched.
He screamed.
~*~*~*~*
Mark Callaway woke up screaming.
~*~*~*~*
The man standing under the shadow of the entrance to the hospital smiled. His digital clock rang shrilly and he turned off the alarm at precisely 10:54 PM. He smiled as he looked up at the endless windows of the hospital.
Somewhere up there, Chris Irvine was falling back and screaming at the images hit him.
Somewhere up there, Kurt Angle and Stephanie McMahon were experiencing waves of nausea and pain.
Somewhere, Mark Callaway was waking up screaming.
He only needed three more players and his playing field would be complete.
He smiled again. He could almost taste victory.
Rain started to fall.
~*~*~*~*~*
Hope you guys enjoy it.