Hello There, Guest! Register

Thread Rating:
  • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
[M] Sound of Madness

There is a theory that the fear of our own mortality motivates all human behavior. The fact that you and I will eventually die and be "no more" is a truth known and recognized only by people. Animals don't consciously think about what happens when they die, just us. People have the unique ability to comprehend their destiny and can imagine their future. We are the only ones that realize the significance of being "dust in the wind."

I remember professor Richards at Gotham University during one of his lectures had said, "All human action is taken to ignore or avoid the anxiety generated by the inevitability of death."

The terror linked with our impending end creates a subconscious conflict or anxiety called cognitive dissonance. We are stuck with having to accept two contrary ideas. On the one hand, we want to become connected with life and think of ourselves as a significant part of the world. On the other hand, why does it all matter anyway if we all eventually turn to ashes?  

If this is all temporary, who cares?

According to my professor, people spend their entire lives trying to make sense of these conflicting thoughts. "We are so afraid of death that we create alternate realities -- realities where we won't cease to be." I remember he said while he studied our faces in the quiet classroom. "The only comfort in this never-ending cycle of impending doom is the fact that we all share this alternate reality."

But what if we don't all share the same reality? What if some of us were not plagued with the hauntings of death? What if death was not an absolute that everyone fears? Is it possible to die and come back again? Not just re-born as someone new, but as the same you that died.

My mind is struggling to comprehend what is happening to me. I do not fear death, and when it did happen, I welcomed it. I appreciated the loss of pain, the agony of defeat, and most importantly, the torment of my mind ceasing. But now I am lost, in a void of my consciousness, which to me, was far worse than death.


I can see my way out of this darkness as a fountain of life awaited me just a few steps away, but I hesitate. What is there for me beyond this place? You would think this void between life and death would be silent, almost deafening, but it's not.  It is filled with music that I can not understand, beats of a different time, maybe a different universe.

The melody is like what you would use to put yourself in a trance and try to see the future. I would close my eyes and let myself become lost to it, but every time I do I am afraid. With my eyelids shut, I can see him inches away from my face, with that smile that can kill. It feels like he has been waiting for me since the dawn of time. As much as I try to pull away from his allure, I succumb to him.

The person who first said, "love is like a drug" is probably the only one who gets it. Whoever first said, "pain is love" I'd like to shove my boot up their ass. Love shouldn't be pain, but now it's all I have.

On that note, I suddenly found myself staring into a bright light of a surgical bulb and no longer floating in the void. I have been in my share of hospitals, but this one didn't feel right. A sense of dread has overtaken me as the sweet binary sounds that once filled my ears was replaced by a defining silence.

"Where am I?" I breathed while struggling to sit up, but couldn't; I found myself strapped tightly to a table. When Mr. J appeared and looked down at me, I knew where I was. The place it all began, good ole Gotham Asylum. 
[Image: hoang-vu-re-edit.gif]

"So, this where I get off at huh; Taking an intensely heated blaster bolt to the chest. Failing like a hero to others that surround me. A majority here thinks that I'm not a hero though. I guess you can call me a rat in their plans to take over the scummiest streets of Coruscant. I've been here at this place many times already taking a good look at death but greeted with a chance of life once more. I guess I'm worth more than others but why?"Jacket thought as his body was floating while surrounded with nothing, unmasked.

This darkness seemed endless toward Jacket in the state he was in right now. No movement of progress but his body remained steady to grasp at any chance to hold on to living again. He was in a permanent place of nothingness while in reality, his body laid on a bed inside Chirpa's shop hooked with IV that flood his veins. Jacket would rather get back in action and help further build Luci's foundation than remain in this state. Unfortunately, his body refused and thus he's left to dry for now until faith brings him back to life.

Finally, there was light at the other end of the tunnel that drew his eyes. He had not seen anything for what felt like ages and his heart filled with positive feelings about his predicament. Getting closer to the light, he can feel gravity around his body going back to normal. When face to face with this brightness, his eyes opened to a whole new environment that he was unfamiliar with. He soon regained his nerves, and his hearing returned.

Where he was at threw him off the tracks of normal. This room appeared as if it was a cell but not a regular cell from state prison. The color of the cell was faded and dirtied white with a run downed taste that was not welcoming. The bed beneath the blonde headed prime was rough and uncomfortable. There was one more thing that horrified Jacket, and that was being encased by a straight jacket.The lack of freedom was the last thing Jacket wanted as a welcome back from being awake.

At least he was able to sit up in the bed and look around more. The prime wasn't behind any ordinary bars but a fortified heavy-duty door with a small window for anyone to peer through. Jacket was able to stand up from the bed and walk around in this morbid room. Suddenly, everything fell perfectly to give the picture. He was trapped and locked inside a mental asylum. His brain powered this belief it was real but there's a twist.

This place was not reality, but the Astral made an environment of a dream. Jacket peeked through the single window that was in his cell with curiosity. An armed male asylum guard with an M4 carbine walks outside of where he was being held, patrolling the sectors. There was nothing Jacket could do now, he was now forced to sit here and wait for whatever happens to him next.

Time passed by, and Jacket still sat on his bed in the same position for an hour. Suddenly, his door electronically unlocked itself and opened up giving an opportunity for Jacket to walk out. Sirens started to blare within the facility about a breakout. Riots began with the mentally insane criminals with the words “Arkham Asylum” printed on their jumpsuits were running out of their cells and threatening the faculty.

Soon after, gunshots were heard outside of his cell with a couple of guards giving warning shots to the mentally insane that approached them. They had no choice than to protect themselves, so they started to kill the patients that got close to them. In a short time, they were outnumbered in this block of the facility. Their radios were going off frantically about the power being cut off throughout the Asylum.

Jacket was being cautious and poked his head out to see what was going on. The criminals were everywhere in the block he was currently being held. Some appeared non-threatening but, a part of them did kill other inmates in gruesome ways. The prime wasn't the only one wearing the straight jacket since a small number of inmates wore the same jacket like him. Those who wore the strict clothing babbled insanely and wandered around the block as if their mind wasn't completely sane anymore. All that Jacket could think of was to escape this place and head back to Coruscant for Westside and hopefully come across Luci.

He began to walk around the block freely to find an exit out of this place. It didn't take him long to come across a bloody gory scene of a mutilated male Arkham guard. The radio was still intact on him and Jacket could hear the channels being filled with Communication.

"There is a break-in happening at cell block E with gunmen on the scene, wearing numerous masks. We're taking casualties right now! I need back-"  the man's voice on the radio chatter cut off from the walkie-talkie that was still strapped to the deceased guard's belt.

This gave Jacket a good understanding what's happening right now, and he needed to get out immediately but first, he has to find a way to get out of the lunatic suit and find his valuables for survival. At the moment, Jacket tried to avoid any attention from other harmful criminals that were free.
[Image: 67857178B013071EE183FE5B7C3D87F4438C6BB8]
[Image: westside.png] 

It’s insane to think that any moment can drastically change who you will come to be. One choice, one right or wrong answer, can shape our entire destiny. I can think back to the exact moment my life changed forever, and like some daytime drama rerun, I watched it like an episode on repeat.

My mistake was falling in love with someone who could never love me in return. What’s worse is I am no longer the person I once was; Dr. Harleen Quinzell is dead. The sad part about it is that she never really got to mature, she died young. My biggest regret was falling so deeply for those crystal blue eyes.

I saw something in him that I thought no one else could. In those passionate eyes, I dreamed that we could one day live happily ever after. Looking back, I was naïve to ignore the insanity in his gaze, and I would be stupid to try to blame anyone but myself for falling for him. The idea of loving someone so much that they could be changed clouded my judgment. For some people it can be too late to change; this broken heart of mine won't heal, and like some sick joke, I was the one who changed.


Mista J moved the rusted surgery lamp away from my face with a gloved hand and smiled down at me with a titanium plated grin. “My, my,” he said as he lowered his face to mine and stopped to breathe in my ear, “- it’s been a long time.” He abruptly slammed both fists between my head on the table, causing me to jump. I was scared. “I tried to warn you,” he paused to push back his slick green hair and fiendishly cackled, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

"You're not real!" I spat at him while I struggled to no avail at the blasted bed straps. He laughed that twisted laugh and tugged on his collar before asking me if I loved him. "Fuck you, you clown piece of shit" I screamed as my wrists begin to burn from the tight restraints.

With a sharp slap to my face and a hand around my neck, he got real close to my face and growled. "Now, now, now," his grip tightened before continuing, "it sounds like you need to take your medicine, Doc." Mista J released his hold and shoved a soft leather strap between my teeth. I know what happens next and the familiar soft humming of the electroconvulsive therapy device concluded my suspicions.

I gritted my teeth as the pulse of the electric shock ripped through my entire body. The worn leather strap in my mouth muffled my screams as hot tears fell down my cheeks. Mista J cut the power to the machine and paused to laugh maniacally before tearing the leather strap out of my mouth to ask me again if I loved him.

“I never admitted to you how sexy you looked that night you begged for my love. You have never looked better all puffy eyed, red-faced, and thirsty for me. I should have just fucked you right then and there, and while I had you on your knees, I should have put a bullet in between your eyes." Mista J cooed while running his hands down my breasts to my lower stomach. The sicko laughed as I struggled to pull away from him. He took another break from the torment to taunt me.

When I refused him again, his demeanor changed from a playful, sexual dominant to something far more sinister. After replacing the mouth guard, he shocked me a couple more times before asking me again.

"I am going to kill you!" I screamed in agony.  

He climbed on top of me and pulled my face up against his with both hands in fistfuls of my hair. As he began tearing the buttons from my blouse, he screamed, "Kill me?" He scoffed and put a finger on my chest and smiled, “the part of me that’s you, will never die." 
[Image: hoang-vu-re-edit.gif]

Forum Jump:

Users browsing this thread:
1 Guest(s)

Mobile Version
All rules pages are ©Greg Harris. All copyrighted characters, names and locations are property of their respective copyright holders.
Forum software by © MyBB Theme © iAndrew 2016