Erik Lehnsherr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
e4e5nf3nc6nc3nf6) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
onepassingnight2011-09-17 01:32 am
e4e5nf3nc6nc3nf6) wrote in onepassingnight2011-09-17 01:32 am
Oh, hey, remember a million years ago when I app'd this guy?
The clouds hang long and heavy in the sky, a deep gun-metal grey that shrouded everything below in ominous shadows. Rain poured steadily, making a mire of the ground. There was nothing but grey and murky brown as far as the eye could see: dull, lifeless brick buildings, rusted fence reaching skyward topped with aged razor wire, not a soul in sight. Moving along the sole path that presents itself, a peculiar smell barely masked by the rain became detectable. The putrid scent of spoiled meat and other foods left out to rot. It all made sense one the path turned.
The buildings seemed to fade into the distance, replaced by piles of bodies. The corpses of men, women, and children dumped unceremoniously aside in various states of decay, all in rags. Crows circled round, the harsh calls seeming to mock any who tried to pass. Some perched atop the dead pecking away at the meaty remains of tongues and blank, lifeless eyes. And, god, that smell! The only hope of escaping it was a single, solitary building looming ahead with a lights burning in every window, but it's anything but welcoming.
The change from the drab, grey world is almost blinding. Inside everything is bright and crisp white and the scent of cleaning agents give it a sterile smell, much like a hospital... or a morgue. In fact, that's exactly what this room looks like with it's cold examination table and the myriad of sharp, glinting tools resting on trays and dangling from walls. There's even a suspicious drain on the floor to wash away unsightly fluids. The silence is broken by the crackling din of a cheery tune playing from some unseen record player. It almost seems out of place after everything outside and the quiet menace that fills the room.
A window above gave a brief glimpse of shadowy figures in the unseen observation theatre. They're the only sign of life save for the man sitting, back turned, on the exam table. Like the bodies outside, Erik's dressed in the rags he recalls so clearly from his childhood. Erik's accustomed to this dream, though. He's spent years with the exaggerated memories and fears of childhood creeping around his jagged, broken mind and mingling with his subconscious. But, it's so familiar, he immediately noticed an intruding presence. Without looking over his shoulder, he simply said, "You should not be here."
The buildings seemed to fade into the distance, replaced by piles of bodies. The corpses of men, women, and children dumped unceremoniously aside in various states of decay, all in rags. Crows circled round, the harsh calls seeming to mock any who tried to pass. Some perched atop the dead pecking away at the meaty remains of tongues and blank, lifeless eyes. And, god, that smell! The only hope of escaping it was a single, solitary building looming ahead with a lights burning in every window, but it's anything but welcoming.
The change from the drab, grey world is almost blinding. Inside everything is bright and crisp white and the scent of cleaning agents give it a sterile smell, much like a hospital... or a morgue. In fact, that's exactly what this room looks like with it's cold examination table and the myriad of sharp, glinting tools resting on trays and dangling from walls. There's even a suspicious drain on the floor to wash away unsightly fluids. The silence is broken by the crackling din of a cheery tune playing from some unseen record player. It almost seems out of place after everything outside and the quiet menace that fills the room.
A window above gave a brief glimpse of shadowy figures in the unseen observation theatre. They're the only sign of life save for the man sitting, back turned, on the exam table. Like the bodies outside, Erik's dressed in the rags he recalls so clearly from his childhood. Erik's accustomed to this dream, though. He's spent years with the exaggerated memories and fears of childhood creeping around his jagged, broken mind and mingling with his subconscious. But, it's so familiar, he immediately noticed an intruding presence. Without looking over his shoulder, he simply said, "You should not be here."
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She snapped out of her surprise, though, to answer his question. "It's Hope Summers. I, uh..." Okay how the hell do you explain this one when you don't even know what's really going on?
"Who's dream is this?" She asked suddenly, registering why this all felt strange to her. Shared dreaming. She'd done it in the past.
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"Answer my question: how do you know me?"
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"I know you. We're friends. Granted, you usually look older, but still it's you," She tried to explain to him.
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"Friends are something for which I have little need and little use."
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"Well when you've been through a lot more and it all culminates in you lying in a hospital bed as an old man and realizing you didn't really help as much as you thought, you get a tad bit friendlier," She explained, letting a bit more of her naturalness out.
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Why do I never see my typos until after people reply? ;_;
"You've seen things like this before," Erik commented as he looked her over. "There's none of the horror in your eyes of someone who hasn't seen terrible things. Or done them."
life is cruel that way ):
"Because the answer is that I've seen terrible things."
Indeed it is!
He breathed out an almost amused snort and nodded at her words. Maybe in some other life she did know him. She certainly knew how to talk to him. "You said that we're friends. How did that come to be?"
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"We were in the Med Bay together. You were the only person to treat me normally instead of like I might explode at any given second. So circumstances, I guess."
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"And what is it about that made others ostracise you?"