The gate closed behind them. The door opened in front of them. The ceiling opened above them. The floor opened beneath them. They all fell for what felt like hours, and when they landed, it wasn't with a concussive thump, but a soft, gentle bounce. They had landed in a huge pile of foam and packing material.
They took a moment to get their bearings. They were at least twenty feel below where they originally stood. They were trapped in a rectangular hole approximately ten by six feet. They didn't find any doors or openings.
They began to panic. They...
Ridiculous. He had never been so ill-treated in his whole life. To think that such an imbecilic, poorly-dressed, snivel-nosed shit could have the AUDACITY to pour a saintly bordeaux all over his wife put such beet red hues into his cheeks as to suggest asphyxiation, or potential heart failure.
The fat man shook, with an angry tectonic rumble, and the whole room seemed to hold slack for his reaction, volatile elements stirring with life...
"What in the hell do you THINK you ARE DOING!??" the fat fuck rumbles. His gold watch chain jangles with the bulbous rolling of his obese...
Wine. Specifically, white. She hated white wine. She wanted red. The buzzing warm feeling was building. Building the way it had when she'd been inside the LHC doing maintenance. No one knew she'd been there. No one could explain how she'd survived. Then in a blink, she hadn't been. That was when she realised something Quantum had happened.
She perceived a reality where the waiter had gotten the wrong bottle from the shelf, picking red instead of the sought for white. He'd lose his job later that day for continued disobedience. His wife would commit suicide in four months, when...
They gathered in the woods during each full moon. The full moon was only significant as it lit the way for their new recruits. But who could forget a full moon?
She knew as she moved towards them that they would accept her. Their faces were neither friendly nor aggressive, they simply were. Each face identical to those either side of it, their expressions changing as one.
If she had not known them for a while she may have found them quite terrifying. But as she had met some of them before, she felt among friends. She looked different, despite...
He ran in the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. A man was sitting across the room in a fat leather chair, the kind you see CEOs with. His back to the sopping boy.
The boy stood panting with his back against the door, his eyes closed and his head tilted at the ceiling. "S-sorry. I ran into some trouble on the way here."
With every drop of water that landed on his carpet the man cringed. He could hear it ruining the material. He took a deep breath, "Please, have a seat."
With complete disregard for...
Charles didn't know what to think. The heat on his cheeks hurt too much, but he didn't like it when the flame disappeared. Jenny was the one holding the camera. She told him that they could all share the candle. It was one flame for the entire group. A moppet party, dad called it, because it was not their birthday.
Mom was sick. Charles could only think of that. She'd pale cheeks and skin stretched over her face, and her hair tangled and black and her mouth a gaping, gawping hole. She didn't even recognize any of them when they'd...
She ran off into the plants and tall grasses and let her body sway with the wind. She called it her meditation, the only break she had from the stresses of school and tests and parents and everything else that came with being a teenager.
The other two watched and smiled. The three of them were friends since the second grade. Nothing surprised them. They expected Andrea to do this. Jane and Nicole lit cigarettes and gossiped quietly while she moved back and forth, arms swaying, swing and shaking.
The wind picked up, the leaves fluttered and flapped. The gust...
She didn't look at him.
Instead, she stared out of the window, quivering as though she would cry at any second.
"Bev?" Steven called out tentatively.
She shook her head, still not looking at him. All Steven wanted was for her to look at him. Her gorgeous green stare always made him breathless. She always made him happy.
But now? He screwed up.
"Beverly, c'mon. Say something."
She stared out of her window as though he weren't even there. He walked closer and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Beverly-"
Jerking back violently, she twisted his direction and snarled, "Don't....
"Don't you realize you can make a cake WITHOUT any the products of my femininity?" asked the chicken. She fluffed her feathers defiantly, shouting over the cars that zoomed mere inches from where she had taken her stance. "That is that last time anyone takes my eggs! I will NOT provide my children for your tasty treats!" She glared at the little girl.
Darla stared at the hefty bird. She adjusted her apron, dusting off some flour with one gloved hand. "I needed eggs for my mother's birthday cake!" she protested. Darting a glance at the heavy traffic, she...
The Americans landed as planned. Somewhat off course, one of them, Jon from the Bronx recognized the farmhouse. "It's Helena's" he said breathing out, relieved. "anyone got a smoke?" he said smiling and looking around quickly at his buddies.
"Are you shitting? this woman's a spy and God knows who's in there with her. Ten to one there's Germans", said the Captain snapping the Camel right out of Jon's mouth. He grinned and the Captain motioned for four of his men to advance.
In the window, Helena seemed angelic. The man at her feet was indeed very blond, the men...