Mark awoke with a headache. He had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there. Blurry-eyed, he attempted to bend himself upward as he massaged his temple. An awful smell assailed him and made him wince. Vomit and piss. Probably wasn’t his bed, or at least hopefully. He moved his other hand toward the opposite temple, but soon felt a hard clank against a tender spot. He groaned as looked at the hand, white-knuckled and clutching a Corona. That was great, just beautiful, passed out. He blinked hard and shook his head once, it helped his vision a bit, but he didn’t want to risk getting up. He felt a brisk wind and realized where he must be. It was cold, way too cold to be coming from inside. He froze and grabbed onto whatever he could find. Why did he have to pass out here of all places? He loved heights too much.
His vision suddenly began to clear, but he already knew where he was. Second story of the haunted house, the front windowsill, to be precise. The three-foot wide section of plaster over brick was where he was, and between him and a fifteen foot plummet to the concrete porch below was a layer of glass that hadn’t existed for years. He had been laying on his side, right along where he realized he would certainly have fallen. The thought sobered him, but, at the same time, gave him a sense of pride and excitement that he had been that close to death the entire night. He laughed a bit and swished the bottle around to see if he had left any. None. Greedy Bastard. He chucked the lifeless corpse out of the gaping hole he had been flirting with and attempted to rise to his feet. Colors rushed him and his headache climaxed, he’d try again later. What did he do last night?
Stacy, he did Stacy. He chuckled again, stupid bitch. She showed up, and in about five minutes, she was mad and jumping all over him. He ran his fingers through his hair, what a sexy son of a bitch. He looked over and spotted where she had passed out, right where he had left her, about four feet on her journey of leaving him behind because he was “such a perv”. Made his night, seeing her looking at him, no control over the expression of her face, eyes looking all over the place, tears running, telling him that that was it after she had given it all up. Four feet and smack, right onto the wood of the second floor, passed out. He was a little drunk, so he wondered why he remembered it so vividly, but it wasn’t till after he went back downstairs and did the heavy stuff did it seem like a good idea to go flirt with death.
He assumed that was his though process after he went back down to get drunk, but really didn’t care. It was Saturday morning, about eleven on a cold, crisp spring day. He slowly got up, and started his shamble downstairs, stepping over the stupid bitch. He loved the haunted house, it was his house, and whoever came, came because they had a reason to see him. It was a good-sized place, for some reason or another ditched by whoever lived in it in the sixties. Probably because it was in the middle of nothing. Maybe they wanted to be farmers but were too lazy to work the land? Whatever happened, it was an awesome house, right smack in the middle of a field of grass, right smack in the middle of the most screwed up woods he had ever seen. Every inch of it was covered with razor sharp thorns, and it was about three quarters of a mile to the clearing. It was a great day when he first discovered it when he was eight, and he had been spending since then, tangling through the hellish brush, that he half-created, half-discovered a secret path to. It was truly his place.
Like a friggin war scene. The downstairs were riddled with bodies, probably made the same mistake he did, sans the like for dangerous situations. He gave one corpse a hard kick, and was amused when it had no effect other than an audible groan, he’d feel it later. He rubbed his temple again, it wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. There wasn’t a door, so he walked strait into his front yard. His parents probably wondered where he was, then again, they probably didn’t give a shit. He stretched out and took a breath, what a night.
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A Study into Evil and Corruption OOC ))