Jurgen
06-22-2008, 11:42 AM
Before we begin I'd like to point out this story is in development stages. Some of what should be the more subtle nuances of the story have had to be spelled out in rather large letters because i couldn't figure out a better way to fit them in. The dialogue could do with work I reckon. That's just my opinion, give me yours DP.
James knew it was all over. He was truly crushed. He had loved Emma ever since he first laid eyes on her, they had spent a blissful year together but now it was over. Emma had left him for another man. In tearing his heart out Emma had thrust James into a vortex of depression that he only knew one way out of. It had taken him many hours of thought, but he had finally come to the decision that his life was over.
As he stood in his bedroom he stared with contempt at the sickening, hideous, broken creature in the mirror. He was a mess, he had been crying, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of his My Chemical Romance hoodie, meaning his eyeliner was smeared all across his face and his eyes were swollen and sore from friction. His hair, usually so well kept was a mess, in a fury he had cut off his fashionable fringe, no amount of black hair dye or pink highlights could fix that. Over the past day and a half he had seen the useless specimen staring back at him crying, begging, ranting and performing a myriad of other feats of futility, he was sick of it.
On the dresser in front of him sat a small marble presentation box, it contained Emma’s present to him from his last birthday, a beautifully crafted and exquisitely sharp pen knife, complete with obligatory carving of both of their initials on the mahogany handle. He had considered destroying it when it had dawned upon him that he could use it to destroy himself, making Emma’s systematic ruination of his life more complete than she could have ever planned.
Taking the tool from it’s box he admired it for the last time, playing the blade across his hands and regretting it when his finger began to bleed. It wouldn’t matter, in a few moments his wrists would be a torrent of claret and a sore finger would be the least of his worries. Holding the blade to his wrist he pressed down hard but achieved nothing, he flinched before the cutting edge could penetrate the skin and cursed himself for his weakness, he decided to be a man about things and do this one final act properly. Once again staring at the weakling in the mirror he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to slit his own throat when his PC began to play “Gloomy Sunday”, he decided that was a little too much so he selected Emma’s favourite Bullet For my Valentine song and turned the volume up to full.
Sidling back to the mirror he placed the knife against his throat and took a deep breath, he pressed the blade against his neck but the skin didn’t break, putting more pressure on the tip he finally managed to break the skin. He yelped like a kicked puppy and threw the knife down, it bounced off his left wrist before coming to rest on the floor, the very tip stained crimson but the rest gleaming as if to taunt him. James flopped down onto his bed, pulled down his sleeves and began to cry once again when he heard a voice yelling something about music. He expected it was his little sister.
Looking up through tear blurred eyes he saw not his sister but a very handsome young man in a white suit. Once again James squeaked like a small animal and once again the handsome young man shouted something about music. James sniffled, and turned the volume down on his PC.
“Thank you very much, your ex girlfriend did have… Interesting taste in music, didn’t she?” The handsome man began
“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my room?” James blurted, his voice wavering.
“My name is Denathamzel, I’m more or less your personal angel and I’m here to dissuade you from suicide and prove to you that a failed relationship isn’t worth ending your life and eternal damnation.” The angel’s voice was reassuring and warm but stern.
James was immediately inclined to believe the man, if only because of his voice being so pure. In somewhat of a tizzy James reached for one of the cigarettes in his top drawer. He could have sworn that there was an open pack in there. Finding his spare deck he offered one to the angel who politely declined.
“Filthy habit” He began, sighing in annoyance when he realised his voice was being parroted.
James looked in horror as the shadow on the corner of his bed, which was being cast innocently enough by the curtain in his window slowly began to become more human shaped. He looked to Denathamzel for guidance and could have sworn he’d seen the angel swear under his breath. The shadow in the corner had finally formed as a man who looked precisely the same as Denathamzel, except his suit was crimson with a jet black shirt.
“Yes it’s a filthy habit” Sighed the dark suited man, exhaling a cloud of white smoke and throwing the missing cigarette packet at James “But someone’s gotta do it. I’m Reegenlach, I’m also sick of feather butt’s high horse whingeing. I’m on a similar mission but without a holier-than-thou attitude.”
“But isn’t he literally holier than thou? He’s an angel, I assume that makes you a demon?” James’ confusion grew by the minute.
“Oh he fed you that line did he? He’s not really an angel, celestial definitely, angelic afraid not. But yes I am a demon.” Reegenlach blew a smoke ring.
“You’re here to convince me death is the way forward I take it?” James had decided he should have stayed in bed that morning.
“Oh not yet, you’ve got a great career ahead of you before you take the trip downstairs, you’re not even old enough to get drunk and do stupid things yet. There’s bags of evil left in you yet. I’m here for the same reason he is, to prove that staying alive is the best thing for you, except he’s doing it the boring way.” Reegenlach poked his tongue out at the angel.
“Why am I not allowed to choose when I die? Life sucks. I’m sick of it.” James was shaking with indignation, why was everyone out to ruin his day plan?
“Suicide is a mortal sin, and selfish too. You might end your own pains but think of your family, your mother, your sister, think of your friends, even think of Emma, she’ll be emotionally scarred for life if you commit suicide in her name.” Denathamzel’s voice once again took James as being utterly sincere.
“Fuck mortal sin, fuck Emma and fuck your sister, oh wait I might try the last two” Reegenlach smiled and winked at James who flew into a rage.
“You bastard. She’s my sister, she’s only fifteen.”
“Hey I was just saying… Anyway, as much as emotionally scarring those around you is a very evil thing to do, you’re basically more evil alive than dead, corpses are notoriously unproductive.” Reegenlach stubbed out his cigarette on his own forhead and ate the butt, burping quietly in a satisfied manner.
“So you want me alive to be evil, what do I get out of that?” James pointed an accusing finger at the demon
“Apart from all the fun of being a bastard? What do you want kid a medal and a bloody biscuit? Being evil is it’s own reward, haven’t you ever heard that saying?”
“The saying goes being GOOD is it’s own reward!” The angel interjected
“Being good sucks donkey nuts and gets you nothing.” The demon retorted.
“James if you go downstairs and give your sister that CD of yours that she wants you get a warm feeling inside do you not?” Denathamzel’s voice once again enraptured James who nodded dumbly in agreement.
“Ah but if you take that same CD, copy it and sell it to your mates you get that full feeling inside your wallet, cold hard cash dude. Better than warm fuzzies.” The demon laughed triumphantly.
“But copying a CD isn’t that evil.” James began to wonder about the ‘demon’
“Tell that to the RIAA” Replied both apparitions. An akward silence then fell.
“See you are evil, well done kiddo.” The demon attempted to light up another cigarette.
“James is not evil, he is simply a poor, misguided young man.” Denathamzel blew out the match.
“Poor misguided young man? He’ll be a namby pamby fudge ferret like you if you keep using that sort of language on him.” The demon lit the cigarette, this time using a fire summoned above his forefinger.
James quietly watched as his two otherworldly guests argued and saw it get more and more heated, eventually he became convinced they had completely forgotten about his presence, but by this point their voices were raised and fists apparently weren’t far behind. James sat up and yelled at the top of his voice.
“BELT UP! I thought you were here for me, to convince me life is worth living but all you want to do is fucking argue. I may as well kill myself, even my saviours would rather argue than save me.” The others turned to face James as his sister’s voice came from downstairs at equally high volume.
“Shut up James! Keep it down or I’ll kick your head in”
“You can fuck off too” James yelled back.
“See Denath, he is evil, just told his own flesh and blood to fuck off.” Reegenlach nudged the angel with an elbow.
“James calm yourself, we’re here to help you. Killing yourself is never the answer.” The angel’s voice did indeed calm James, he relaxed and reclined on his bed.
“Unless the question is ‘what’s the faggiest thing you can do?’” Reegenlach piped up, the angel stared at him “Hey I’m agreeing with you”
“Why not? I want to die. I’m sick of life. Emma tore my heart out and I’ll never recover. Without her I’m nothing.” James was in tears already, so when Reegenlach slapped him across the face there was no apparent reaction.
“You fucking moron, you’re like seventeen. You’re not even old enough to drink, you’ve fucked precisely one girl and listen to that horse shite emo. You don’t even know what life feels like. Get a grip and stop with the melodramatics.” The demon lifted him from his bed and held him on the ceiling, Reegenlach’s hair was on fire and his eyes blazed like the inferno “If you so wish for death I’ll give it to you but believe me, you’d rather I didn’t. I won’t be quite as merciful as you had planned, I’ll tear you limb from limb”
The angel spread his wings and from his body a radiant glow filled the room, Denathamzel struck the demon with one of his wings and caught James with the other.
“Fear not my young friend, you shan’t be harmed. Stay alive for the sakes of your friends and family if nothing else. It is our time to leave now, I can see in your eyes you now fear death and admit your mistake.” The angel disappeared in a flash of blinding brilliant light, as he did so the demon growled, burst into flames and evaporated.
James was covered in sweat, his whole body was soaked. He wasn’t sure if everything that had just happened was real or not. He just wanted to get some rest and figure everything out later, now that there was going to be a later in his day plan. James wondered why he was so tired, he had only been awake since midday. Pulling up his sleeve to check his watch sudden realisation took hold. His arm was crimson, when the knife had fallen it had pierced much deeper than he thought, it had been at least fifteen minutes since that had happened.
His entire bed was soaked with what he had assumed was sweat, looking down he realised that his be was in fact covered in blood. Summoning the last of his strength he called out at the top of his voice to his sister for help. James dragged himself off of the bed and landed on the floor in a heap, too weak to even move. Fading into and out of consciousness and vaguely aware that he had landed in an uncomfortable way James heard his sister coming upstairs, muttering quietly about how she was going to kill him for making so much noise.James knew it was all over
James knew it was all over. He was truly crushed. He had loved Emma ever since he first laid eyes on her, they had spent a blissful year together but now it was over. Emma had left him for another man. In tearing his heart out Emma had thrust James into a vortex of depression that he only knew one way out of. It had taken him many hours of thought, but he had finally come to the decision that his life was over.
As he stood in his bedroom he stared with contempt at the sickening, hideous, broken creature in the mirror. He was a mess, he had been crying, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of his My Chemical Romance hoodie, meaning his eyeliner was smeared all across his face and his eyes were swollen and sore from friction. His hair, usually so well kept was a mess, in a fury he had cut off his fashionable fringe, no amount of black hair dye or pink highlights could fix that. Over the past day and a half he had seen the useless specimen staring back at him crying, begging, ranting and performing a myriad of other feats of futility, he was sick of it.
On the dresser in front of him sat a small marble presentation box, it contained Emma’s present to him from his last birthday, a beautifully crafted and exquisitely sharp pen knife, complete with obligatory carving of both of their initials on the mahogany handle. He had considered destroying it when it had dawned upon him that he could use it to destroy himself, making Emma’s systematic ruination of his life more complete than she could have ever planned.
Taking the tool from it’s box he admired it for the last time, playing the blade across his hands and regretting it when his finger began to bleed. It wouldn’t matter, in a few moments his wrists would be a torrent of claret and a sore finger would be the least of his worries. Holding the blade to his wrist he pressed down hard but achieved nothing, he flinched before the cutting edge could penetrate the skin and cursed himself for his weakness, he decided to be a man about things and do this one final act properly. Once again staring at the weakling in the mirror he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to slit his own throat when his PC began to play “Gloomy Sunday”, he decided that was a little too much so he selected Emma’s favourite Bullet For my Valentine song and turned the volume up to full.
Sidling back to the mirror he placed the knife against his throat and took a deep breath, he pressed the blade against his neck but the skin didn’t break, putting more pressure on the tip he finally managed to break the skin. He yelped like a kicked puppy and threw the knife down, it bounced off his left wrist before coming to rest on the floor, the very tip stained crimson but the rest gleaming as if to taunt him. James flopped down onto his bed, pulled down his sleeves and began to cry once again when he heard a voice yelling something about music. He expected it was his little sister.
Looking up through tear blurred eyes he saw not his sister but a very handsome young man in a white suit. Once again James squeaked like a small animal and once again the handsome young man shouted something about music. James sniffled, and turned the volume down on his PC.
“Thank you very much, your ex girlfriend did have… Interesting taste in music, didn’t she?” The handsome man began
“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my room?” James blurted, his voice wavering.
“My name is Denathamzel, I’m more or less your personal angel and I’m here to dissuade you from suicide and prove to you that a failed relationship isn’t worth ending your life and eternal damnation.” The angel’s voice was reassuring and warm but stern.
James was immediately inclined to believe the man, if only because of his voice being so pure. In somewhat of a tizzy James reached for one of the cigarettes in his top drawer. He could have sworn that there was an open pack in there. Finding his spare deck he offered one to the angel who politely declined.
“Filthy habit” He began, sighing in annoyance when he realised his voice was being parroted.
James looked in horror as the shadow on the corner of his bed, which was being cast innocently enough by the curtain in his window slowly began to become more human shaped. He looked to Denathamzel for guidance and could have sworn he’d seen the angel swear under his breath. The shadow in the corner had finally formed as a man who looked precisely the same as Denathamzel, except his suit was crimson with a jet black shirt.
“Yes it’s a filthy habit” Sighed the dark suited man, exhaling a cloud of white smoke and throwing the missing cigarette packet at James “But someone’s gotta do it. I’m Reegenlach, I’m also sick of feather butt’s high horse whingeing. I’m on a similar mission but without a holier-than-thou attitude.”
“But isn’t he literally holier than thou? He’s an angel, I assume that makes you a demon?” James’ confusion grew by the minute.
“Oh he fed you that line did he? He’s not really an angel, celestial definitely, angelic afraid not. But yes I am a demon.” Reegenlach blew a smoke ring.
“You’re here to convince me death is the way forward I take it?” James had decided he should have stayed in bed that morning.
“Oh not yet, you’ve got a great career ahead of you before you take the trip downstairs, you’re not even old enough to get drunk and do stupid things yet. There’s bags of evil left in you yet. I’m here for the same reason he is, to prove that staying alive is the best thing for you, except he’s doing it the boring way.” Reegenlach poked his tongue out at the angel.
“Why am I not allowed to choose when I die? Life sucks. I’m sick of it.” James was shaking with indignation, why was everyone out to ruin his day plan?
“Suicide is a mortal sin, and selfish too. You might end your own pains but think of your family, your mother, your sister, think of your friends, even think of Emma, she’ll be emotionally scarred for life if you commit suicide in her name.” Denathamzel’s voice once again took James as being utterly sincere.
“Fuck mortal sin, fuck Emma and fuck your sister, oh wait I might try the last two” Reegenlach smiled and winked at James who flew into a rage.
“You bastard. She’s my sister, she’s only fifteen.”
“Hey I was just saying… Anyway, as much as emotionally scarring those around you is a very evil thing to do, you’re basically more evil alive than dead, corpses are notoriously unproductive.” Reegenlach stubbed out his cigarette on his own forhead and ate the butt, burping quietly in a satisfied manner.
“So you want me alive to be evil, what do I get out of that?” James pointed an accusing finger at the demon
“Apart from all the fun of being a bastard? What do you want kid a medal and a bloody biscuit? Being evil is it’s own reward, haven’t you ever heard that saying?”
“The saying goes being GOOD is it’s own reward!” The angel interjected
“Being good sucks donkey nuts and gets you nothing.” The demon retorted.
“James if you go downstairs and give your sister that CD of yours that she wants you get a warm feeling inside do you not?” Denathamzel’s voice once again enraptured James who nodded dumbly in agreement.
“Ah but if you take that same CD, copy it and sell it to your mates you get that full feeling inside your wallet, cold hard cash dude. Better than warm fuzzies.” The demon laughed triumphantly.
“But copying a CD isn’t that evil.” James began to wonder about the ‘demon’
“Tell that to the RIAA” Replied both apparitions. An akward silence then fell.
“See you are evil, well done kiddo.” The demon attempted to light up another cigarette.
“James is not evil, he is simply a poor, misguided young man.” Denathamzel blew out the match.
“Poor misguided young man? He’ll be a namby pamby fudge ferret like you if you keep using that sort of language on him.” The demon lit the cigarette, this time using a fire summoned above his forefinger.
James quietly watched as his two otherworldly guests argued and saw it get more and more heated, eventually he became convinced they had completely forgotten about his presence, but by this point their voices were raised and fists apparently weren’t far behind. James sat up and yelled at the top of his voice.
“BELT UP! I thought you were here for me, to convince me life is worth living but all you want to do is fucking argue. I may as well kill myself, even my saviours would rather argue than save me.” The others turned to face James as his sister’s voice came from downstairs at equally high volume.
“Shut up James! Keep it down or I’ll kick your head in”
“You can fuck off too” James yelled back.
“See Denath, he is evil, just told his own flesh and blood to fuck off.” Reegenlach nudged the angel with an elbow.
“James calm yourself, we’re here to help you. Killing yourself is never the answer.” The angel’s voice did indeed calm James, he relaxed and reclined on his bed.
“Unless the question is ‘what’s the faggiest thing you can do?’” Reegenlach piped up, the angel stared at him “Hey I’m agreeing with you”
“Why not? I want to die. I’m sick of life. Emma tore my heart out and I’ll never recover. Without her I’m nothing.” James was in tears already, so when Reegenlach slapped him across the face there was no apparent reaction.
“You fucking moron, you’re like seventeen. You’re not even old enough to drink, you’ve fucked precisely one girl and listen to that horse shite emo. You don’t even know what life feels like. Get a grip and stop with the melodramatics.” The demon lifted him from his bed and held him on the ceiling, Reegenlach’s hair was on fire and his eyes blazed like the inferno “If you so wish for death I’ll give it to you but believe me, you’d rather I didn’t. I won’t be quite as merciful as you had planned, I’ll tear you limb from limb”
The angel spread his wings and from his body a radiant glow filled the room, Denathamzel struck the demon with one of his wings and caught James with the other.
“Fear not my young friend, you shan’t be harmed. Stay alive for the sakes of your friends and family if nothing else. It is our time to leave now, I can see in your eyes you now fear death and admit your mistake.” The angel disappeared in a flash of blinding brilliant light, as he did so the demon growled, burst into flames and evaporated.
James was covered in sweat, his whole body was soaked. He wasn’t sure if everything that had just happened was real or not. He just wanted to get some rest and figure everything out later, now that there was going to be a later in his day plan. James wondered why he was so tired, he had only been awake since midday. Pulling up his sleeve to check his watch sudden realisation took hold. His arm was crimson, when the knife had fallen it had pierced much deeper than he thought, it had been at least fifteen minutes since that had happened.
His entire bed was soaked with what he had assumed was sweat, looking down he realised that his be was in fact covered in blood. Summoning the last of his strength he called out at the top of his voice to his sister for help. James dragged himself off of the bed and landed on the floor in a heap, too weak to even move. Fading into and out of consciousness and vaguely aware that he had landed in an uncomfortable way James heard his sister coming upstairs, muttering quietly about how she was going to kill him for making so much noise.James knew it was all over