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tampered2006-08-18 12:18 am
redhorror.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-08-18 12:18 am
Log: ongoing
When; 1am, Friday.
Rating; PG-13 for horror.
Characters; Pyramid Head, whoever else is in the tunnels and wishes to join in.
Summary; A silenced terror re-emerges in the tunnels.
Log;
In the murk, a conciousness awoke.
Another train rumbled down the line, hauling it's cargo of souls further into the depths of soullessnes. Those on the platform at the start of the subway route stared nervously into the darkness, to where the trains didn't venture. They'd all heard the tales. Some had even seen the occasional glimpse of a writhing white shape flash past a train window- But no fear to great to keep the masses from the tunnels.
Deep, deep in the darkness, where the water dripped from ageless ceilings into fathomless depths, and nameless beings stirred, there was, indeed, something to fear.
Pale hands clenched around the black handle of that fell blade, hands whose veins were outlined in blood.
The bustling masses on the platform froze. A sound, not heard in centuries, was slowly gaining in volume. The travelers looked, but couldn't find the source - it was as if the very air around them were breeding the shrill, warbling scream - an air raid siren. Slowly, conversations started again.
"What is that?"
"Do you think it was a cave in?"
Suddenly, with a flare, one of the overhead halogen lights, the first in a long line, fizzled into oblivion. The second followed, as slowly, darkness began to swallow the tunnel. Like prey into the belly of a snake, light by light was ingested by the hungry shade, until the now-shaking travelers found themselves in darkness. An inky, terrifying darkness. It was as if it could be felt, a thickness in the air, a tightness in the lungs.
From far down the abandoned end of the tunnels, a shrill screech met the ears of those on the platform. It was faint, at first. A screech for a few moments, then silence. More screeching, more silence. Louder and louder it grew, until a faint spot of light was visible. Closer, closer, until it was recognizable - sparks. Something metal was being dragged across the steel piping, something heavy.
Seven feet of terror lumbered his way down the line, dragging the ungainly length of steel that had torn it's way into the nightmares of all who'd seen it.
Stand and watch, stand and wait. Stand and watch, stand and wait. They wait for me. A show? Not yet. Time will come. Time always comes. Time, time, time. Tick, tick, tick. They need it. They hate it. Time always comes. Time always goes. Race for it, catch it, or it catches you.
Inch by terrible inch, the abomination made it's way toward the platform, until, with wide eyes, the first horror-stricken face saw it.
A sight to behold, indeed. Black, battered boots struck the ground laboriously, disappearing into a white executioner's robe- well, it HAD been white. Blood dripped from it now, racing down in wild streams, pouring from it's fringes in wild crimson rivulets.
It stopped. Quickly, gazes turned, following the screams of the manic would-be passenger, only to see - nothing. Slowly, as if straining against an unseen force, the lights fought their way back into operation, one by one bathing the citizens in the soft incandescence once more.
But they weren't breathing any easier. They could feel the heaviness, the dread, creeping back down into the depths.
In the recesses of the tunnel, the concsiousness pored over the last few moments.
Musn't wait too much longer. The crimson is drying. It will be time soon. Time, time time. So much time. So much time gone. So little time left. So much time to see how little time was left. So little time to see how much time to see how little time was left.
Rating; PG-13 for horror.
Characters; Pyramid Head, whoever else is in the tunnels and wishes to join in.
Summary; A silenced terror re-emerges in the tunnels.
Log;
In the murk, a conciousness awoke.
Another train rumbled down the line, hauling it's cargo of souls further into the depths of soullessnes. Those on the platform at the start of the subway route stared nervously into the darkness, to where the trains didn't venture. They'd all heard the tales. Some had even seen the occasional glimpse of a writhing white shape flash past a train window- But no fear to great to keep the masses from the tunnels.
Deep, deep in the darkness, where the water dripped from ageless ceilings into fathomless depths, and nameless beings stirred, there was, indeed, something to fear.
Pale hands clenched around the black handle of that fell blade, hands whose veins were outlined in blood.
The bustling masses on the platform froze. A sound, not heard in centuries, was slowly gaining in volume. The travelers looked, but couldn't find the source - it was as if the very air around them were breeding the shrill, warbling scream - an air raid siren. Slowly, conversations started again.
"What is that?"
"Do you think it was a cave in?"
Suddenly, with a flare, one of the overhead halogen lights, the first in a long line, fizzled into oblivion. The second followed, as slowly, darkness began to swallow the tunnel. Like prey into the belly of a snake, light by light was ingested by the hungry shade, until the now-shaking travelers found themselves in darkness. An inky, terrifying darkness. It was as if it could be felt, a thickness in the air, a tightness in the lungs.
From far down the abandoned end of the tunnels, a shrill screech met the ears of those on the platform. It was faint, at first. A screech for a few moments, then silence. More screeching, more silence. Louder and louder it grew, until a faint spot of light was visible. Closer, closer, until it was recognizable - sparks. Something metal was being dragged across the steel piping, something heavy.
Seven feet of terror lumbered his way down the line, dragging the ungainly length of steel that had torn it's way into the nightmares of all who'd seen it.
Stand and watch, stand and wait. Stand and watch, stand and wait. They wait for me. A show? Not yet. Time will come. Time always comes. Time, time, time. Tick, tick, tick. They need it. They hate it. Time always comes. Time always goes. Race for it, catch it, or it catches you.
Inch by terrible inch, the abomination made it's way toward the platform, until, with wide eyes, the first horror-stricken face saw it.
A sight to behold, indeed. Black, battered boots struck the ground laboriously, disappearing into a white executioner's robe- well, it HAD been white. Blood dripped from it now, racing down in wild streams, pouring from it's fringes in wild crimson rivulets.
It stopped. Quickly, gazes turned, following the screams of the manic would-be passenger, only to see - nothing. Slowly, as if straining against an unseen force, the lights fought their way back into operation, one by one bathing the citizens in the soft incandescence once more.
But they weren't breathing any easier. They could feel the heaviness, the dread, creeping back down into the depths.
In the recesses of the tunnel, the concsiousness pored over the last few moments.
Musn't wait too much longer. The crimson is drying. It will be time soon. Time, time time. So much time. So much time gone. So little time left. So much time to see how little time was left. So little time to see how much time to see how little time was left.