Mister Thirteen

STASIS

Doctor Phillips pressed his tongue into his left cheek as he listened to Delilah describe the man from her nightmares. He said nothing, his expression unreadable. He slowly stood from the hospital bed, grabbing up his clipboard as he did so. He stared emptily at the far wall, thinking to himself.

He finally shook his head and said to Delilah,”No, I can’t make anything of that. That is quite strange. Perhaps...” He raised his right hand to his chin and scratched at his beard. He exhaled slightly and turned away from Delilah toward the window to the right.

Then it came, that dreadful, ear-splitting high pitched screech. It seemed louder than the previous times before, ringing at a painfully high pitched rate. The Doctor and the entire room turned to a scrambled blur as the sound droned away.

STASIS

The Doctor remained serious as Delilah responded, the grave expression he wore remained ironed into his face. He shifted slightly and stood up straight, clasping his hands behind his back. “Can you please describe this man? What does he look like, what does he wear? Does he say anything to you in these dreams?” The Doctor realized he was prying rather hard, but he had to know. It was imperative that he figured out just what was going on here.

I hope she can give me any kind of detail, any kind of straight answer or clue. This shouldn’t be happening.

STASIS

The Doctor listened as she spoke, describing these dreams she seemed to be having, these night terrors. His face held concern as he listened, he noted her seemingly exhausted state. And her behavior, it was clear that she was truly terrified by something. This has happened twice now. Hmmm...

Doctor Phillips raised his clipboard before him, holding it in both hands as he viewed it with intent. “Well Miss Stevens,” he said,”your CAT Scan this morning showed that while your temporal brain lobe seems to have healed over, your frontal lobe has healed only in minor. Rounding it out, only forty percent of the damage done has gone away. It seems the cells within that region of your brain took a hard pounding in the accident. This good be the source of these...nightmares your having. Medical science and psychology have shown that significant frontal lobe damage can...’corrupt’ one’s state of mind and thinking process.”

He looked up at her from his clipboard. His aged eyes held this rather prying look. He lay his clipboard back on the bed and slightly leaned over toward Delilah, only slightly. “Miss Stevens,” He said,”I’m no psychologist or therapist, but I’m curious, these nightmares your having, this same man that you describe being in your dream, who is he? Do you know him, is he someone from your past? An abusive relative, a rogue boyfriend? I know this might be of personal nature, but maybe I can better help you understand what’s happening, even if only basically.”

~Nyte Bloods~

EPISODE 6: A CHOICE MATTER

__________________________________________________________________________

Alice.

He could not shake her from his mind, nor his dark heart. Not that he wanted to at all. Liam Enduro was in no denial that he was in truth infatuated with young Alice Lynch, that raven haired beauty whom he had turned, who his blood flowed through. How he longed for her, to hold her, to stroke her hair and feel her smooth skin against his own. Even now his thoughts were of only her, as he stood alone on one of his favorite rooftops overlooking the city of New York.

“Hmph.” He grunted to himself as he looked out over the city, taking in the beautiful site that was New York City after sundown. He had done this hundreds of times through the decades, and still the charm of such did not fade.
His handsome, pale face was locked in a grim expression. His arms were crossed tensely across his chest, his knees were locked in an uncomfortable position.
He wore a tan-colored Parisian coat over a black v-neck shirt, and gray slacks adorned his legs, brushing against the black loafers on his feet.
He would have looked quite charming in a classy bar or lounge, or even a business interview.

Oh, Alice Lynch, He thought. You cannot evade nor resist me forever. I will have you one way or another. And once I have you...

Liam snorted and shook his head to himself, smiling grimly.
“How corrupting and intoxicating they are, love and lust. Quite amazing.”

THEME SONG

~Nyte Bloods~

Working on my next post. I’m going to go on ahead and just start the next episode, as I had intended to end this one soon anyway and start the next.

STASIS

“Miss Stevens!” Came the voice of Doctor Phillips. The doctor was standing to Delilah’s right, grasping her shoulder and forearm firmly. His weathered hands were warm and rather rough. His aged face was writhed into heavy concern. He looked Delilah in the face intently as he held her in place, his dark brown eyes bore into her. The hospital room looked the exact same still as he had prior. The end table, the IV machine and heart monitor, the digital wall clock, the gifts laid across the table across the room, it was all still there. The clock read the time as 9:04 P.M. The darkness of night could be seen through the window.

“Night terrors?” Asked the doctor impulsively, releasing his hold on her and reaching for his clipboard, which lay beside Delilah on the bed, the Doctor having dropped it there when he reached to comfort her.

STASIS

And then there was light. From the far end of the tunnel came a bright, piercing light, it’s rays extended just short of where Delilah stood, leaving her in a state of shadow. The red brick wall was illuminated to almost an orange shade, the gray concrete floor reflected the bright light to a dull degree. From the ceiling hung an assembly of bare wires from which the now broken light bulbs were hung. The floor’s length was littered with clear shards of glass, barely visible in the intense lighting.

The intense light at the tunnel’s end was suddenly blotched by a shadowy figure, a tall shape that stood within the center of the tunnel, still and silent. The ominous figure remained where it was, coming no closer. It was then that a strange noise could be heard. A chittering drone, like that of insects, such as secadas or locusts. The noise began to rise, from obnoxiously audible to near deafening. The source of the sound was revealed by the tinkling of the shards of glass on the floor.

Spiders. A great wave of coal black spiders, hundreds of them. They came in a swarm across the floor, directly toward Delilah. They had long, hairy, spindly legs and their bodies were the size of a small mouse. They washed over the shattered glass, burying it beneath their swarm. The plump ugly arachnids drew closer to Delilah. More of them began to descend from above, swinging down from the ceiling on chalky-white threads of web, one of them dropping down onto Delilah’s shoulder, it’s eight beady eyes glaring up at her as it’s brethren below drew closer in a tidal wave of horror.

In the distance, the light began to subside to a bearable point, revealing the distant figure to be the cloaked haunt they had been plaguing Delilah all this time. Though she could not see it from so far, his gray cracked lips parted into a leery yellow smile as the droning of the many score spiders now drowned the entire tunnel.

~Nyte Bloods~

@Mister Thirteen Are you still interested in this RP? Asking due to the number of days.

@LadyRunic

Oh I am, But, as poor of an excuse as this; writers block.

I'm literally stuck on my next post and the next move to be made.
I would have messaged you but I kept telling myself "Oh I'll come up with something."

Sorry for this labored delay.

STASIS

The sounds were gone. The sounds of the undead approaching, their moans, groans and the shuffling and slap of their bare feet, the sound was no more. The tunnel was silent, the weakly lit light bulbs above twinkling, but only slightly. The tunnel was lonesome and solemn.
A single long tunnel of concrete floor and red brick wall, it's end unseen and black. It was then that it came, from before, that repulsive, cold aurora. It seeped and swirled through the tunnel around Delilah. It was then that a crackling could be heard, like that of wires or intense heat.

The light bulbs, those hanging along the distance of the tunnel, they began to fizz and intensify in brightness, the once night-black tunnel now lit up like a furnace. A single pop followed by a shattering of glass could be heard. Then, in a single instance, with a chorus of breaking and a great explosion of glass from above, every single one of the lights shattered apart, raining glass and wire down the length of the tunnel, including on top of Delilah.

The entire tunnel was now completely dark, shrouded over in blackness.

STASIS

The light came from directly ahead, in a small room with a wooden door which stood wide open. To the left was a heavy iron bar door, leading down a seemingly endless concrete tunnel, it’s ceiling lined with weakly lit lightbulbs hanging haphazardly by the wires. The iron door itself was latched from the other side, but the bars were wide enough for a small arm to reach through.

The undead drew near, their godless sounds echoing off of the grimy walls. A choice had to be made, for the loud slapping of bare feet on the floor could be heard. They were just around the corner, and closing in.
A single shadow of the lead one sliding across the wall tauntingly.