It was a planet called Earth in the early 21st century. A time when the love and care the planet had once known was found in only small pockets of families and now the only feelings it had were hate and greed and sorrow. In one such area where the anger had grown beyond control, two gangs fought: the Street Codes against the Green Bloods. Gunshots rang through the air, sliding through cloth, skin, bone...wounding and killing and destroying. Yells, screams, cries of terror, fear, and horror echoed behind the shots. It was like in the span of one night the world around these people would collapse. Mike had only recently become a Green Blood. He still wore "with pride" the black eye he had been given in his initiation three days ago. He was still trying to convince himself that he had made the right choice by joining the gang. As he crouched behind a car, he looked at the semi-automatic gun he held in his trembling hands, taking in shallow breaths of confusion and cringing whenever a bullet went whizzing by. He was such a coward...if any of the gang members saw him just sitting there, they'd turn on him. They'd beat him like they did three days ago. And if a Code found him...he'd be dead. He was tempted to just give up and run home when he caught movement from the corner of his eye... Jumping back, he held up the glistening gun and pointed it right at the head of a tall, dark figure. Whoever it was dressed in a ragged black cloak...and for a moment, Mike thought he had been shot and it was the Grim Reaper coming to take away his soul. But there was something almost - almost - human in those eyes that nearly glowed out from under the hood. Whoever this joker was just stared down at Mike...as if he didn't care he had just walked right into the middle of a gang fight. "Back off!" Mike heard himself shout, still trembling madly as the figure continued to stare down at him. "I said back off!" Mike shouted again, keeping the hand with the gun in it pointed at the figure while he climbed to his feet. "Wha's wrong wit you, man?! I said get the hell back!" His voiced cracked...he was trembling harder than ever. Sweat trickled down into his eye, making them burn as he refused to blink and take his eyes off this guy. "Don't make me shoot you!" Those eyes seemed to widen with hope...whoa, hope?? "I said back off or I'll shoot!" It was like the fight was gone...in a spiral of shadows and colors and faint, rumbling sounds, it was like the only two who existed in the world now was Mike and the stranger. Feeling anger mix with his fear, Mike threateningly shook the gun. "I'll blow your damn head off if you don't get away from me!" he screamed once more. Slowly, the figure began to move...and Mike nearly yanked on the trigger of the gun as two pale hands extended from the arms of the cloak and reached to pull the hood back from the man's face. This guy was beautiful. His face was long and thin, his features well defined without being overly sharp. His skin was more like a creamy white sheet stretched perfectly across his frame, and laying in gentle waves over his forehead, cheeks, and shoulders was long hair in a shade of purple Mike had never seen before. And his eyes...they were so wonderful, they were frightening. Black as space without stars...as void of light as shadows but still seeming to glow from the inside out. It was amazing. It was eerie. It made Mike's skin crawl. "You can't be real..." Mike whispered...he knew he had whispered it, yet it came out in perfect tone, perfect pitch, perfect volume. "You just can't..." and he felt his arm lowering as he stared, mouth gaping, at this total stranger who had mesmerized him. "Then it won't matter if you shoot me," the man said, his head canting to the left side as he looked almost pleadingly at Mike. Suddenly, something cold ran smack into Mike. It shook him from the seemingly alternate world he had been sucked into, depositing him once again in the middle of the horrible gang fight. But it had moved...now there were gang members of both sides running around, ducking behind cars and shooting at each other, brawling it out in the street. Another of the Green Bloods ran by, his right arm hanging limp and bleeding by his side while his left fired shot after shot in the opposite way he was running. He noticed Mike just standing there, and hid behind some steps, occasionally shooting out to cover Mike as he yelled "Yo! What the hell are ya doin'?? Shoot the mo fo!" Mike turned his gaze once again to the stranger who still stood, looking terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. He shrugged under his cloak...and then Mike heard his voice inside his head! He's right, you know. You should do it. Go ahead, pull the trigger. Do it, shoot me. I can't be real, remember? Do it... All in hushed whispers, repeating the same words over and over again, all at different times, until it was a buzz of sound between his ears. It was going to drive him mad if it didn't stop! "Shut up!" Mike yelled...but the voices just got louder. "Shut up!" he screamed again, raising his arm to once again point the gun at the figure. Do it. BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG Mike fired six shots right through the stranger's chest. He stared in horror as he watched those eyes lose their glow at a lightning fast pace...but an almost blissful smile curled the victims lips as he fell backwards with the force of the bullets going through him. He was gone before he met the ground, the blood that was already soaking through his cloak making him hit the payment with a wet "splat." |
| Text and charrie (c) Jennifer, yr. 2002 & Beyond |