Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Jan 19, 2007 15:25:23 GMT -5
Author's note: this was meant to be longer, with chapters and everything, but I decided that anything under 3000 words doesn't deserve chapters. Also, I keep getting this feeling that I'm forgetting something crucial for this story or there's some sort of glaring mistake or something, but I can't figure out what. If you see it, could you tell me, please?
It opened its eyes wide, waiting patiently in the murky darkness. Nothing had appeared – yet. But the prey would come. It was sure of that. The minutes dragged on, and It continued to wait patiently, albeit a bit drowsily. Then suddenly, a twig snapped. It shook itself back to alertness, scanning the horizon. And there, in the distance, It could just make out a figure, slowly but surely stumbling along. The prey was coming.
Ever so quietly, It got into position, watching the prey hungrily all the while. As the prey approached, it began to get louder and its outline became more clear-cut. It listened in amusement as the prey tripped over a tree root and cursed angrily. Suddenly the prey tensed, as if realizing for the first time how loud it was being. The prey’s weak eyes scanned the darkness wildly, afraid to find something but searching anyway. And It took that moment to spring. It leapt powerfully, landing next to the prey, and reached immediately for the throat.
The prey’s worst fears had come true. Eyes bugged out, it clawed at the strong fingers that had hold of its throat. “Please, please let me go,” the prey croaked hoarsely.
Slowly, It let go of the prey’s neck, while maintaining a firm grip on the prey’s shoulders. “I’ll let you go if you promise to do a little something for me. So what do you say? Are you willing to do anything?”
“Anything?” the prey asked, fearful. “I don’t know, I-“ and suddenly the hands were back at its neck. “All right, all right! I’ll do anything!” the prey squeaked.
Smiling, It released Its death-grip a second time. “All right, then. Here’s what you will do…”
Several minutes later, the prey scurried away. It watched the prey for a few seconds, then turned back and smiled grimly at Its companion. The companion nodded, and the two of them melted into the darkness.
BRRRRRIIIIIIING!!!
It was time to get up, and Libby knew it. The alarm clock was ringing mercilessly at her bedside, as if taunting her to catch it and turn it off. Libby groaned and covered her ears with her pillow. If she positioned the pillow right she could almost pretend the noise wasn’t there. Almost.
A few seconds later, the soft padding of feet on the floor reached her ears. The painful ringing went away, and then arms grabbed Libby’s pillow and thrust it aside. “Libby, why’d you have to leave the alarm ringing for so long?” Jemima asked crossly. “You know whoever’s closest is supposed to turn it off!” Her words were followed by several murmurs of assent across the room, and Libby reddened.
“I’m sorry, everyone, I was just really tired this morning,”” Libby said, frowning slightly as Jemima passed the alarm clock over to Betsy. “It happens to everyone, though, doesn’t it?” she added, looking at all her dormitory mates and hoping for mercy.
“She’s right,” Samreen chimed in, coming to the rescue. “We’re not angry at you, Libby, just a bit grumpy because that alarm clock is painful to sleep-fogged brains.” This time the murmurs that followed sounded much more cheerful, and SnicketFace even admitted that she had accidentally set the alarm louder than usual.
The alarm incident was soon forgotten, however, in the flurry of excitement that had caught up the members of 667 that morning. By breakfast, everyone from the most respected moderators to the lowliest newbies were talking about only one thing: Tragedy’s upcoming announcement. It was supposed to be one of the most important announcements ever given, and if the rumors were to be believed, it would be given that afternoon.
Once they had gotten their food, Jemima grabbed Libby’s arm so as not to lose her. Together, they weaved through the mass of gossipers to a nearby table, where George and Akbar were sitting. “For the last time, Tragedy is not going to get killed by a bloodthirsty vampire!” Akbar was saying impatiently to a worried-looking newbie. Seeing the girls, he shooed the newbie away so they would have room to sit.
“So you’ve heard the news, I take it?” Jemima asked.
George nodded. “Yes, the announcement’s really going to happen today. Akbar’s gotten reservations for the best seat there is, so he can record everything for The 667er.”
“And as far as I know, there are no vampires anywhere in the vicinity of 667,” Akbar said loudly, eyeing a nearby newbie suspiciously.
“And I was so looking forward to seeing a real live vampire!” Jemima said, laughing as the newbie, pretending not to hear Akbar, visibly calmed all the same. She took a bite of toast and sighed. “You’re so lucky, Akbar. I’d give anything for a good seat, but I’ll probably be stuck in the back, telling off troublemakers. What about you, Libby?” she added, nudging her friend. “Wouldn’t you like a good seat?”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Libby said. “These scrambled eggs are really good today, George. Have you tried any yet?”
Jemima glanced over at her friend. Libby appeared to be worried about something, but what it was, she had no idea. She picked up her things and stood up. “Hey guys, I’ve got some things I’ll need to take care of just now, but I’ll be done with them in time to take a late lunch. Libby, you can meet up with me then, can’t you?”
“Of course,” Libby said. All traces of worry had vanished from her face. “I’d be happy to, Jemima.”
“Goodbye then!” Jemima called, waving to her friends.
Jemima spent the entire morning with new members, going over the tedious process of making sure they understood the rules. She finished fairly confident that they had learned the rules, but then it always seemed to be that way and the rules still got broken somehow. She was just wondering if anything had penetrated the mind of the dazed-looking one in the back when she arrived at the cafeteria. George was there, but there was no sign of Libby.
“Hey George, Libby’s supposed to meet me right now. Do you know where she’s gone?” Jemima asked, running to catch up with him.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t seen Libby at all. Akbar should be just ahead, though. Maybe he knows where she is.”
Jemima thanked her friend and sped up. Libby hadn’t seemed quite herself at breakfast that morning, and neither had Akbar, for that matter. She hoped they were all right. It was probably just stress, or overexcitement about the announcement, but still…she dodged a few people who were in her way and slowed down a bit, catching her breath for another sprint. As she turned another corner, she could just make out Akbar’s figure at the other end of the hallway. She was about to call to him, but just before she did something strange happened to divert her attention.
A supply closet door opened just inches away from Akbar, and he stopped, curious to see what was happening. But before he could get a good view, someone covered his mouth, grabbed him and shoved him inside the dark closet. The door closed, and Jemima stared on from the other end of the hall in complete horror. She quickly ran to the door of the closet, and as she approached, she began to hear the conversation that was taking place inside.
“…better not have forgotten the promise you made last night,” someone hissed warningly.
“N-no, of course not!” Akbar’s voice replied shakily.
“Good,” a third voice said. This one was female.
Akbar gave a muffled gasp. “Where did you come from?” he said.
“I’ve been here all along. And remember, if we catch you interfering with anything, anything at all, during the announcement today, PJ and I will take care of you before you can so much as blink.” The female voice paused. ”You can handle Akbar alone, right, PJ? I told Jemima I’d meet her at about this time.” The door began to open and Jemima, heart beating fast, quickly ducked into a nearby room. She barely had time to shut the door behind her before Libby stepped out of the closet.
Jemima leaned against the door and breathed heavily, her mind traveling a million miles an hour. Libby and PJ? What in the world was going on? Whatever it was, she knew she had to put a stop to whatever they had planned for that afternoon.
It was finally afternoon, and the signal was given for everyone to file into Alarming Announcements. And the crowd was immense. Nearly everyone had turned out to see what Tragedy’s big announcement was, and even the great hall of Alarming Announcements could barely house them all. Akbar had to push and shove through the masses of 667ers for five full minutes before he finally reached his seat on the front row. He looked nervously around, but could not see anyone he recognized, friend or foe.
The chattering and gossip made the air ring and was almost deafening, but soon Tragedy stood up and held up his hands, and like a power switch had been turned off, the entire hall went quiet in a matter of seconds.
Just as Tragedy was about to begin his announcement, a masked 667er jumped onstage and pulled out a gun, frantically looking around.
“Excuse me!” Tragedy said to his uninvited guest. “I was just about to make an announcement! Who are you, what are you doing, and why don’t you put that gun down before you hurt someone?”
“I’m sorry for the interruption, but that’s exactly why I can’t put my gun down!” the guest cried. “Someone in the audience is going to try to kill you!”
“What? Why would anyone do that? Not even ADR…but please, take your mask off and set the gun down. It’s obvious that there’s no one out there that’s going to kill me.”
“But, please, you have to believe me!” the masked guest said desperately.
“I’m beginning to think that you are the only one with murder on your mind,” Tragedy said. “Now put that gun down now!”
“Wait!” Akbar cried, jumping onstage and looking around frantically. “It’s true! There is a plot to kill you! I heard about it and planned to stop it but then PJ and Libby tried to blackmail me to keep me quiet.”
“Why, you little liar!” PJ yelled, stepping out from a curtain to the left of the stage. “Trag, Akbar’s the one that wants to kill you! Libby and I were only trying to stop him!” He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Akbar. “Any last words, traitor?” he asked Akbar.
“Not so fast!” Jemima yelled, leaping out from another curtain to the right of the stage. She too had a gun, this one pointing at PJ. “I overheard your conversation in the closet, PJ. You were threatening to kill Akbar if he didn’t do something, weren’t you? You’re the real traitor!” She glared venomously at PJ.
“Hey wait! Libby left the alarm running for a long time this morning!” SnicketFace cried. “She said it was because she was very tired. Were the two of you out plotting Tragedy’s death?”
“No, no, no, that’s not the way it was at all!” Libby said, taking off her mask and revealing herself as the masked guest. “PJ and I were told by an informant that a traitor would go for a walk on the grounds late last night, and that we had to stop the traitor at all costs. We waited up for the traitor, and who was it that turned up? None other than Akbar! How do you explain that, Akbar? Hmm?”
“Akbar seems pretty suspicious to me!” SetnicK said angrily, pushing up to the front of the crowd.
“What?” Akbar cried. “That’s not true at all! I just went outside last night to-“
“You admit you were blackmailing Akbar?” Betsy asked, interrupting Akbar. The crowd was beginning to lose all sense of order, and Betsy had weaved her way through several dozen newbies who were standing on their chairs and pointing fingers. “You’ve lost my respect,” she spat at Libby and PJ. “In fact, you used blackmail; why would you stop at that? Why should we believe that you weren’t planning to kill Tragedy too?”
“They not only blackmailed me, they threatened to kill me!” Akbar said. “PJ choked me!”
“You’re lucky they didn’t kill you right away!” Sora growled. “I know I would have in their place, traitor!”
By then, the entire hall had erupted into pandemonium, and it became nearly impossible to distinguish individual voices. Announcement forgotten, gun forgotten, Jemima now tried to restore order to a crowd that was quickly turning violent. Neighbor accused neighbor and friend accused friend of being in on the plot. Akbar had to duck out of sight before several angry 667ers came to tear him apart, and PJ and Libby found themselves in similar circumstances, running for their lives from several angry mods.
Up in the tech room overlooking the stage, two figures watched the chaos unfold. Although they were kept safe from the violence by the height of the room and the sturdy glass window, it was clear that no one else was. A frenzied 667er had found an abandoned gun and was shooting into the crowd, while swarms of people had begun to attack anyone that looked suspicious, or that moved too quickly, or that looked like Akbar or PJ or Libby, or just about anyone else that happened to be within arm’s reach.
They watched in silence for a while, and then the male of the two began to smile. “We’ve won now,” he said quietly, pointing to a figure on the stage. The figure he pointed to had slumped to the ground, and was even now starting to be trampled by panicked 667ers. For a split second, though, the figure’s face could be seen. It was the lifeless, bloodless face of Tragedy.
“So we have,” the female said, nodding slowly. “Who was the real killer, then?”
“No one,” the male said, grinning maliciously. “I simply told PJ about a plot to kill Tragedy, and then I told Akbar about another plot, and they took care of the rest without us having to lift a finger. Human nature is so terribly predictable.”
“Indeed it is,” the female said, eyes on the stage as large groups of people began to throw chairs at each other. “Indeed, it is.”
“And now I think it’s time for us to take over,” Dante said, taking her hand and smiling terribly. “Don’t you think so, Antenora?”
It opened its eyes wide, waiting patiently in the murky darkness. Nothing had appeared – yet. But the prey would come. It was sure of that. The minutes dragged on, and It continued to wait patiently, albeit a bit drowsily. Then suddenly, a twig snapped. It shook itself back to alertness, scanning the horizon. And there, in the distance, It could just make out a figure, slowly but surely stumbling along. The prey was coming.
Ever so quietly, It got into position, watching the prey hungrily all the while. As the prey approached, it began to get louder and its outline became more clear-cut. It listened in amusement as the prey tripped over a tree root and cursed angrily. Suddenly the prey tensed, as if realizing for the first time how loud it was being. The prey’s weak eyes scanned the darkness wildly, afraid to find something but searching anyway. And It took that moment to spring. It leapt powerfully, landing next to the prey, and reached immediately for the throat.
The prey’s worst fears had come true. Eyes bugged out, it clawed at the strong fingers that had hold of its throat. “Please, please let me go,” the prey croaked hoarsely.
Slowly, It let go of the prey’s neck, while maintaining a firm grip on the prey’s shoulders. “I’ll let you go if you promise to do a little something for me. So what do you say? Are you willing to do anything?”
“Anything?” the prey asked, fearful. “I don’t know, I-“ and suddenly the hands were back at its neck. “All right, all right! I’ll do anything!” the prey squeaked.
Smiling, It released Its death-grip a second time. “All right, then. Here’s what you will do…”
Several minutes later, the prey scurried away. It watched the prey for a few seconds, then turned back and smiled grimly at Its companion. The companion nodded, and the two of them melted into the darkness.
* * *
BRRRRRIIIIIIING!!!
It was time to get up, and Libby knew it. The alarm clock was ringing mercilessly at her bedside, as if taunting her to catch it and turn it off. Libby groaned and covered her ears with her pillow. If she positioned the pillow right she could almost pretend the noise wasn’t there. Almost.
A few seconds later, the soft padding of feet on the floor reached her ears. The painful ringing went away, and then arms grabbed Libby’s pillow and thrust it aside. “Libby, why’d you have to leave the alarm ringing for so long?” Jemima asked crossly. “You know whoever’s closest is supposed to turn it off!” Her words were followed by several murmurs of assent across the room, and Libby reddened.
“I’m sorry, everyone, I was just really tired this morning,”” Libby said, frowning slightly as Jemima passed the alarm clock over to Betsy. “It happens to everyone, though, doesn’t it?” she added, looking at all her dormitory mates and hoping for mercy.
“She’s right,” Samreen chimed in, coming to the rescue. “We’re not angry at you, Libby, just a bit grumpy because that alarm clock is painful to sleep-fogged brains.” This time the murmurs that followed sounded much more cheerful, and SnicketFace even admitted that she had accidentally set the alarm louder than usual.
The alarm incident was soon forgotten, however, in the flurry of excitement that had caught up the members of 667 that morning. By breakfast, everyone from the most respected moderators to the lowliest newbies were talking about only one thing: Tragedy’s upcoming announcement. It was supposed to be one of the most important announcements ever given, and if the rumors were to be believed, it would be given that afternoon.
Once they had gotten their food, Jemima grabbed Libby’s arm so as not to lose her. Together, they weaved through the mass of gossipers to a nearby table, where George and Akbar were sitting. “For the last time, Tragedy is not going to get killed by a bloodthirsty vampire!” Akbar was saying impatiently to a worried-looking newbie. Seeing the girls, he shooed the newbie away so they would have room to sit.
“So you’ve heard the news, I take it?” Jemima asked.
George nodded. “Yes, the announcement’s really going to happen today. Akbar’s gotten reservations for the best seat there is, so he can record everything for The 667er.”
“And as far as I know, there are no vampires anywhere in the vicinity of 667,” Akbar said loudly, eyeing a nearby newbie suspiciously.
“And I was so looking forward to seeing a real live vampire!” Jemima said, laughing as the newbie, pretending not to hear Akbar, visibly calmed all the same. She took a bite of toast and sighed. “You’re so lucky, Akbar. I’d give anything for a good seat, but I’ll probably be stuck in the back, telling off troublemakers. What about you, Libby?” she added, nudging her friend. “Wouldn’t you like a good seat?”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Libby said. “These scrambled eggs are really good today, George. Have you tried any yet?”
Jemima glanced over at her friend. Libby appeared to be worried about something, but what it was, she had no idea. She picked up her things and stood up. “Hey guys, I’ve got some things I’ll need to take care of just now, but I’ll be done with them in time to take a late lunch. Libby, you can meet up with me then, can’t you?”
“Of course,” Libby said. All traces of worry had vanished from her face. “I’d be happy to, Jemima.”
“Goodbye then!” Jemima called, waving to her friends.
Jemima spent the entire morning with new members, going over the tedious process of making sure they understood the rules. She finished fairly confident that they had learned the rules, but then it always seemed to be that way and the rules still got broken somehow. She was just wondering if anything had penetrated the mind of the dazed-looking one in the back when she arrived at the cafeteria. George was there, but there was no sign of Libby.
“Hey George, Libby’s supposed to meet me right now. Do you know where she’s gone?” Jemima asked, running to catch up with him.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t seen Libby at all. Akbar should be just ahead, though. Maybe he knows where she is.”
Jemima thanked her friend and sped up. Libby hadn’t seemed quite herself at breakfast that morning, and neither had Akbar, for that matter. She hoped they were all right. It was probably just stress, or overexcitement about the announcement, but still…she dodged a few people who were in her way and slowed down a bit, catching her breath for another sprint. As she turned another corner, she could just make out Akbar’s figure at the other end of the hallway. She was about to call to him, but just before she did something strange happened to divert her attention.
A supply closet door opened just inches away from Akbar, and he stopped, curious to see what was happening. But before he could get a good view, someone covered his mouth, grabbed him and shoved him inside the dark closet. The door closed, and Jemima stared on from the other end of the hall in complete horror. She quickly ran to the door of the closet, and as she approached, she began to hear the conversation that was taking place inside.
“…better not have forgotten the promise you made last night,” someone hissed warningly.
“N-no, of course not!” Akbar’s voice replied shakily.
“Good,” a third voice said. This one was female.
Akbar gave a muffled gasp. “Where did you come from?” he said.
“I’ve been here all along. And remember, if we catch you interfering with anything, anything at all, during the announcement today, PJ and I will take care of you before you can so much as blink.” The female voice paused. ”You can handle Akbar alone, right, PJ? I told Jemima I’d meet her at about this time.” The door began to open and Jemima, heart beating fast, quickly ducked into a nearby room. She barely had time to shut the door behind her before Libby stepped out of the closet.
Jemima leaned against the door and breathed heavily, her mind traveling a million miles an hour. Libby and PJ? What in the world was going on? Whatever it was, she knew she had to put a stop to whatever they had planned for that afternoon.
* * *
It was finally afternoon, and the signal was given for everyone to file into Alarming Announcements. And the crowd was immense. Nearly everyone had turned out to see what Tragedy’s big announcement was, and even the great hall of Alarming Announcements could barely house them all. Akbar had to push and shove through the masses of 667ers for five full minutes before he finally reached his seat on the front row. He looked nervously around, but could not see anyone he recognized, friend or foe.
The chattering and gossip made the air ring and was almost deafening, but soon Tragedy stood up and held up his hands, and like a power switch had been turned off, the entire hall went quiet in a matter of seconds.
Just as Tragedy was about to begin his announcement, a masked 667er jumped onstage and pulled out a gun, frantically looking around.
“Excuse me!” Tragedy said to his uninvited guest. “I was just about to make an announcement! Who are you, what are you doing, and why don’t you put that gun down before you hurt someone?”
“I’m sorry for the interruption, but that’s exactly why I can’t put my gun down!” the guest cried. “Someone in the audience is going to try to kill you!”
“What? Why would anyone do that? Not even ADR…but please, take your mask off and set the gun down. It’s obvious that there’s no one out there that’s going to kill me.”
“But, please, you have to believe me!” the masked guest said desperately.
“I’m beginning to think that you are the only one with murder on your mind,” Tragedy said. “Now put that gun down now!”
“Wait!” Akbar cried, jumping onstage and looking around frantically. “It’s true! There is a plot to kill you! I heard about it and planned to stop it but then PJ and Libby tried to blackmail me to keep me quiet.”
“Why, you little liar!” PJ yelled, stepping out from a curtain to the left of the stage. “Trag, Akbar’s the one that wants to kill you! Libby and I were only trying to stop him!” He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Akbar. “Any last words, traitor?” he asked Akbar.
“Not so fast!” Jemima yelled, leaping out from another curtain to the right of the stage. She too had a gun, this one pointing at PJ. “I overheard your conversation in the closet, PJ. You were threatening to kill Akbar if he didn’t do something, weren’t you? You’re the real traitor!” She glared venomously at PJ.
“Hey wait! Libby left the alarm running for a long time this morning!” SnicketFace cried. “She said it was because she was very tired. Were the two of you out plotting Tragedy’s death?”
“No, no, no, that’s not the way it was at all!” Libby said, taking off her mask and revealing herself as the masked guest. “PJ and I were told by an informant that a traitor would go for a walk on the grounds late last night, and that we had to stop the traitor at all costs. We waited up for the traitor, and who was it that turned up? None other than Akbar! How do you explain that, Akbar? Hmm?”
“Akbar seems pretty suspicious to me!” SetnicK said angrily, pushing up to the front of the crowd.
“What?” Akbar cried. “That’s not true at all! I just went outside last night to-“
“You admit you were blackmailing Akbar?” Betsy asked, interrupting Akbar. The crowd was beginning to lose all sense of order, and Betsy had weaved her way through several dozen newbies who were standing on their chairs and pointing fingers. “You’ve lost my respect,” she spat at Libby and PJ. “In fact, you used blackmail; why would you stop at that? Why should we believe that you weren’t planning to kill Tragedy too?”
“They not only blackmailed me, they threatened to kill me!” Akbar said. “PJ choked me!”
“You’re lucky they didn’t kill you right away!” Sora growled. “I know I would have in their place, traitor!”
By then, the entire hall had erupted into pandemonium, and it became nearly impossible to distinguish individual voices. Announcement forgotten, gun forgotten, Jemima now tried to restore order to a crowd that was quickly turning violent. Neighbor accused neighbor and friend accused friend of being in on the plot. Akbar had to duck out of sight before several angry 667ers came to tear him apart, and PJ and Libby found themselves in similar circumstances, running for their lives from several angry mods.
Up in the tech room overlooking the stage, two figures watched the chaos unfold. Although they were kept safe from the violence by the height of the room and the sturdy glass window, it was clear that no one else was. A frenzied 667er had found an abandoned gun and was shooting into the crowd, while swarms of people had begun to attack anyone that looked suspicious, or that moved too quickly, or that looked like Akbar or PJ or Libby, or just about anyone else that happened to be within arm’s reach.
They watched in silence for a while, and then the male of the two began to smile. “We’ve won now,” he said quietly, pointing to a figure on the stage. The figure he pointed to had slumped to the ground, and was even now starting to be trampled by panicked 667ers. For a split second, though, the figure’s face could be seen. It was the lifeless, bloodless face of Tragedy.
“So we have,” the female said, nodding slowly. “Who was the real killer, then?”
“No one,” the male said, grinning maliciously. “I simply told PJ about a plot to kill Tragedy, and then I told Akbar about another plot, and they took care of the rest without us having to lift a finger. Human nature is so terribly predictable.”
“Indeed it is,” the female said, eyes on the stage as large groups of people began to throw chairs at each other. “Indeed, it is.”
“And now I think it’s time for us to take over,” Dante said, taking her hand and smiling terribly. “Don’t you think so, Antenora?”