007. Video

[foolishwren]

_{[It's dark. But judging by the orange, flickering light lighting up Heather's face as she does the customary squint-at-the-screen-to-make-sure-it's-recording motions, she's got a campfire lit. Satisfied, she puts it down on her pack and adjusts it a little before taking a seat in front of it. She's already laid out the sleeping bag and everything.]}

[Cujo the Growlithe and Arty the Sentret are both out of their Pokeballs, for once-- both are curled in a furry heap somewhere just barely in-view of the camera. Both are asleep .... unlike whatever owned the big red glowing eyes that were glimmering faintly in the dark somewhere behind Heather's back. She doesn't seem too concerned, though, as she's not paying much attention to them, for... for some reason. ... You'd think she'd be concerned.]
Yo.

Sorry to disappoint and all, but unfortunately, my little science experiment did not result in my death, so here I am to annoy you all a little more. Merry Christmas.

I'd also like to extend my thanks to Zack for helping me out with it. He fought valiantly in the great bee battle._{[She flips the horns at the camera and gives a serious nod.]}
You rule, bro.

Anyway. Was hopin' to catch one of those things, but by the time I got back to the scene of the crime-- _{[Why yes, the 'great bee battle' HAD mainly consisted of them running like sissies back to Cherrygrove. Is anyone surprised by this?]} -- they'd all decided they had somewhere better to be. Figures. Ignorance always flees in the wake of science, am I right?

Anyway..._{[The customary pause in which she remembers what she'd originally decided to annoy people via pointless video transmissions for anyway. ... After a moment or so, she snaps her fingers before tugging her knees to her chest and propping her chin on them. Now she remembers. Camping in the woods at night was something she'd never done as a kid (she and her father hadn't really been the country type), but every kid knows there's a few traditional activities one must take part in. She doesn't have anything to make s'mores with, so that left...]}
Oh yeah. So. Nighttime on the way to Violet City. Did I mention before that these woods are creepy as hell at night? Camping sucks. But... I'm bored, and even though I'm prooobably gonna regret this...

_{[She sort of wished she had a flashlight to hold under her face spookily, as was tradition, but aw heck.]}

...Anybody got some good ghost stories?

Comments

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

People, mostly. People no one else seem to see, or talk to, or care about. They're always running, panicking, most of 'em pale and bloody with holes in their head or bullet wounds or things that should make 'em dead.

They'd be everywhere, and they could go anywhere. Billy'd turn around and find a dead guy behind his shoulder, even if he never heard him coming.

[foolishwren]

Ahh, so he had a kinda Sixth Sense thing goin' on, huh? Is Bruce Willis in this story?

_{[Heather stop making pop culture references not everybody will get.]}

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

[ His canon references it, too, so it's all good. ...and okay he may be embellishing the story a bit; you wouldn't normally find a Player all bloody and dead-looking. ]

Not quite. Not all of the people are people -- some have got wings, and they're what the folks are runnin' from.

[ He takes a moment to find a good stick and patch of dirt, and does his best to scratch a pair of Reaper wings (http://i48.tinypic.com/14l2d6s.jpg) into the ground. ]

And they flicker. Like they can turn all shadow when they want to.

[foolishwren]

_{[She raises a brow.]}

... Angels, huh?

_{[Or... something weird like that anyway.]}

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

Try the opposite. Angels've got feathers; Reapers are the ones with tattoo wings.

But the Reapers are different than the dead folks. People can see 'em, talk to 'em like they're normal, they just don't see the wings and don't know what it is they're talkin' to.

But the kid -- Billy -- watches the Reapers hunt down the dead folks every day of the week.

[foolishwren]

Ohhh. Gotcha.

Continue.

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

Well, the Reapers can summon these demons. Animals as big as cars, with tattoos for arms or wings or claws, and they're mindless. They rip the dead kids to shreds.

[ He rubs away the wings and draws a dragon-y thing (http://i45.tinypic.com/2hs7uax.png) in the dirt. It's... well, at least you can mostly tell what it's supposed to be. ]

Now, Billy watches all this and it's kinda creepy and fascinating and he can't tell if he's makin' it up or not. But after a bit, these dead folks start to notice that he's watching them. And they start watching him back.

[foolishwren]

Ugh. Now that's creepy.

Are these nice dead people or nasty dead people?

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

Bit of both. The dead folks just want out, want the kid to help 'em get back to the real world, where there's no Reapers and no demons. But the demons and the guys with wings? Not so nice. They get bored easy, and some a' them think the kid will be fun to play with -- so they start following him, and talkin' at him, and threatening him.

And the demons start flocking to him. He passes straight through 'em like ghosts, but they're there all the time and it feels like they're messin' with his mind. Can't think in a straight line, and the world's gone all dark and dead and depressing.

[foolishwren]

Sounds rough.

Did he go nuts eventually?

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

Probably would've, but before he could, onna the Reapers got a little carried away with a bet. Overstepped boundaries, took things way too far.

Flickered into the real world and shot the kid, simple as that.

[foolishwren]

.... Yeeeshh.

So he died?

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

Sure did, but that's not the end of the story.

[foolishwren]

... It so rarely is, nowadays.

So what happened then?

[usedsketch.livejournal.com]

He woke up in the street, feeling fine, like it'd never happened.

But no one could see him.