White

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Hey there. You might have heard me mention a story I was writing, in my Gordon's Dead thread. This is it. It's called White, at least that's the title right now (Because I can't think of another one), so it's also subject to change.
The whole synopsis is somewhat difficult to describe. It's, loosely, about a man who went insane and murdered a bunch of people, and then became catatonic. He unconsciously blocks out any of his memories prior to him going catatonic, and allows doctors to place him under hypnosis so that they can understand what happened to him.
(Please Note: I know this is not HL2-related, or even fanfiction. I hope it's okay that I posted it, nontheless.)

Chapter One: Lord of the White
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White was my color. I owned it, because it was everywhere around me. I wore it, I drank it, I slept in it, and I lived around it. I was the Lord of White, and I was cared for by a seemingly limitless array of white-clad servants. These servants were touchy about my wealth of white, and they commonly attempted to change the subject when I brought it up. How I had inherited this richness of color, I can’t remember, but I didn’t worry about that. I couldn’t remember much of anything that had happened to me before I received this white. It couldn’t be too important, though. What mattered was how quickly my world fell apart, and I was given the white. Then, almost as soon as I had gained possession of the white, it was taken away from me, and my world collapsed upon itself once more. This is my story.

I was already awake, and talked to Wilfred, at just after seven in the morning. It was Saturday; sun was streaming through my barred windows. I assume the bars were there so that they couldn’t come in, but my servants only forced a laugh when I asked.
‘So, my dear friend, do we have an understanding?’ Wilfred spoke slowly, and looked intently at my face, studying my features. We were sitting on my cot, but he was sitting straight as a board, completely ignoring the wall behind him that he could have easily leaned up against. He was odd like that.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I heard the lock on my door click to the ‘open’ position. I motioned for Wilfred to hide under my cot, and he quickly obliged. For some reason, my servants didn’t like me telling them about Wilfred. So, whenever they came into the room, I made sure that he was out of sight. Before the door opened, I lay back down in bed, and threw my sheet back over me. A man with short, brown hair and wire-frame glasses walked in. Vaguely, I recognized this servant, but just barely, because I didn’t bother learning the names of any of my attendants. When he walked in, he closed the door behind him, and grinned widely as he greeted me.
‘Why, hello, Nathaniel! How are you today?’ I inwardly cringed; I disliked my servants referring to me by my first name. I didn’t remember my last name, but I preferred them to call me ‘Lord.’ Deciding to let it pass, I shrugged in as much of a dignified way that I could manage, and offered him a chair. Thanking me, he took it and sat down.
‘Are you aware why I’m here, Nathaniel?’ When the servant asked this, it dawned on me that he hadn’t brought me my breakfast. This didn’t make sense; they always brought me breakfast at 7:30. My heart began to race. Was it because of Wilfred? Had they found out why he was here? No, they couldn’t be here to take him away. Wilfred was good. He wasn’t one of them anymore. He’s the reason I managed to survive! Without Wilfred…Without Wilfred, they would have gotten me.
Perhaps the servant had read my expression, albeit incorrectly. Maybe he had expected me to say ‘no’. Whatever the reason, he smiled again, although it seemed forced this time. ‘I don’t expect you to know. Do you know why you’re here?’
I almost laughed at this. Of course I know why I’m here! I own the white. This is my mansion. ‘I’m here for the color.’ I wasn’t expecting what happened next. The servant looked stunned, and glanced back at the closed door. Could he maybe have forgotten the breakfast, and was now going back to get it?
But no. The servant pulled a white pen out of a pocket in his jacket, which was also white, and began to take some notes on a clipboard I hadn’t noticed earlier. ‘Nathaniel, I’m a doctor. To be more to the point, I’m your[/i] doctor. I have been working with you since you were admitted here three weeks ago. I want to talk to you. I want to talk to you about what happened before you came here.’
This was too much. This servant; my servant…A doctor? No. No, it couldn’t be. I was the Lord of White, they were my servants. This man was no doctor. He was obviously confused. ‘You are no doctor. I control the white, not you.’
My servant sighed. ‘Nathaniel, I’m still not sure what you mean when you speak of the “white”. Perhaps you could explain it to me?’
‘You are not worthy to share the white, or even to hear of it.’
‘Very well.’ My servant wrote something else on the clipboard. I wanted to ask him what he was writing, but I refrained. ‘Now, do you remember anything about what happened before you came here, Nathaniel?’
A crash. Fear, weakness, anguish. Fire. One of them advancing on me. More of them. Hundreds, swarming. A raised blade. Then…Nothing. I contemplated whether or not to mention these partial memories to my servant, when I heard Wilfred’s hissing voice from below the bed. It was barely a whisper.
‘Do not tell him, Nathaniel. He should not know.’
I looked at my servant, carefully, in the eye. ‘I remember nothing.’ Wilfred’s tail slowly slid into view, and then was pulled back. I hoped that the servant hadn’t seen, and for a minute I thought he had. Apparently he hadn’t, and I let out a silent sigh of relief.
‘Are you sure? Please, think back.’ I didn’t answer. After several moments had passed, the servant took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. Then he stood up.
‘Nathaniel, I’d like you to come with me.’ He was beginning to walk across the room, to the door. I stayed sitting, my eyes fixated on the man. My mouth felt dry. Now at the other side of the room, with his hand on the door, the man turned back and looked at me expectantly.
‘Is there something wrong?’ Was there something wrong? Yes! Yes, I wanted to fall to the floor and cry. Something was very wrong.
‘Do…Is…Are you my servant?’ At this question, the man let out a nervous laugh, and attempted to smile at me.
‘No, Nathaniel, I am your doctor. Do you know where you are?’ I hadn’t given it much thought as to where I was residing. I knew I was safe, I had food, Wilfred was here, and I thought I had servants and color. My entire world had just fallen apart. What did I really have? Where was I?
‘Where am I…doctor?’ I spoke slowly, and with thought-out words. I couldn’t stammer or show weakness. The doctor, however, continued to smile.
‘You’re in intensive care in Maine’s state psychiatric ward. You’ve been here for two and a half weeks.’ Psychiatric ward? Intensive care? Two and a half weeks? I began to feel dizzy. I couldn’t take in all this information at once.
‘Why am I here?’ The doctor’s smile faltered after I asked this.
‘That’s what we hope to find out.’ The doctor was silent for a moment. ‘Now, come with me, Nathaniel…You have an appointment.’ I got up on two shaky feet and slowly walked towards the door. I heard Wilfred crawl out from under the bed behind me, but he sounded distant.
The doctor opened up the door, and motioned for me to exit first. I walked through, and waited for him to lead the way. After he had started to walk down the empty, white hallway, to the left, I began to follow him. Wilfred hurried to catch up next to me.
‘Did you know where I was?’ My voice sounded hollow, as I muttered just loud enough for Wilfred to hear me.
‘Yes, my friend. I am sorry, but it was for the best that you didn’t learn.’ Wilfred sounded apologetic, but I wasn’t going to stand for it. My disbelief was replaced by flaring rage.
‘You knew? For the best? How was it for the best, Wilfred? How?’ I was whispering furiously now. My voice cracked above a whisper twice, but the doctor gave no signs of hearing me.
‘As I said, I am sorry, truly. You must first understand, Nathaniel, that given the circumstances, it would not have been wise for me to let you know. It-’ I cut Wilfred off.
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, Wilfred! I thought you were my friend. Whose side are you on?’ I was having difficulty controlling the volume of my voice. After I stopped speaking, I saw Wilfred’s ears rear back, a way he showed extreme anger or offense.
‘I am your friend. If you honestly do not know which side I am on, perhaps I am on the wrong one. Maybe you’ll remember when these doctors are through with you. I will meet you after your appointment.’ With that, Wilfred spun on his heel, and stalked away.
‘Fine!’ I had forgotten to keep my voice down, and had yelled it down the hall. I froze, and watched the doctor turn around.
‘Is there something wrong, Nathaniel?’ I shook my head. ‘Who were you talking to?’ I paused before answering.
‘Nobody.’
I could tell that he didn’t believe me, but the doctor turned back around and started leading the way down the hall again. I followed him, but I was distant, lost in thought. Why was I here? I couldn’t remember any concrete memories…Anything except for Wilfred. I remembered that there were more of his kind…But they were evil. I…I thought that I fought them, but that was only a guess. Wilfred had refused to tell me what had gone on, and after asking once, I could tell that he didn’t want me to ask again.
I was so lost in thought; I didn’t hear the doctor tell me to stop. He said my name, and I returned to reality. We were at the end of the hall. I had never been to this part of the building before, and I had a feeling that I wouldn’t want to be here now. There was a sign to the left of the door, stating that the room beyond its door was the hypnosis office.
Before I could question if there were going to hypnotize me, the doctor knocked on the door. I glanced over my shoulder, feeling a sudden presence, and saw Wilfred standing a few meters away from me, solemnly raising his arms in his salute to me. Feeling somewhat strengthened being with me again, I turned back to face the doorway. The door opened, and a man, wearing a suit and glasses, stepped out.
‘Dr. Francis, hello. This must be Nathaniel?’ The new man shook the doctor’s…Dr. Francis’ hand, and glanced at me. So did Dr. Francis.
‘Yes, yes, that’s Nathaniel. I trust that you’re ready for our appointment?’ Dr. Francis seemed nervous, and he was speaking in a rushed tone. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. ‘So, Dr. Berg, if we could proceed.’ He stepped forward, and spoke in a lower tone to Dr. Berg. I caught the words ‘potentially dangerous,’ but couldn’t understand anything else.
Again, Dr. Berg glanced at me, and nodded. ‘Of course. Nathaniel, do come in.’ He retreated to his office, and Dr. Francis motioned for me to follow.
‘Go on, Nathaniel. I’ll be seeing you shortly.’
I entered the room, and Dr. Francis closed the door behind me. Immediately, I felt enclosed. The room was low-lit, and all the furniture was of dark wood; it was a shocking difference from the bright, white halls and rooms I had otherwise been living in. My eyes darted under the desk that Dr. Berg had just sat down behind. Instinctively, and unwillingly, a single thought fled through my mind.
They could be hiding under there. I tried to push the bad thought away; I tried to suppress it. But, it was there. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. I just wished I could remember who they were. Why was I seeing them? Maybe I didn’t want to know. I suppose I killed them, or they tried to kill me. While I was thinking this, I accidentally let out a low moan, causing Dr. Berg to give me a concerned look.
‘What is it, Nathaniel?’ What was wrong was that they were under the desk. I just knew it. I couldn’t see under the desk, so they’d obviously choose that as a hiding spot. It would be a vantage point, where they could wait for me to sit down, and…and what? I didn’t know, and that scared me even more.
I didn’t answer the doctor. Instead, I hesitantly walked over to the desk and peered cautiously underneath it. Nothing was under there. Of course, they could have moved to the other side. Or else they weren’t there to begin with. My legs were feeling weak, and I had to sit down. There was a chair nearby me, directly in front of the doctor’s desk. It was far too close, so I pushed it a good three meters away from him, and slowly, steadily, sat down. Studying my face, the doctor pulled out notepad. It seemed all these doctors carried notepads.
‘Why did you do that, Nathaniel?’ Always with the questions. I was sick of the questions. Every action I did, it seemed there was somebody asking why! What did they have to gain from asking me?
Or were they under the control of them?
Trying to keep my voice steady, and devoid of the emotions I was feeling, I answered the doctor. ‘It does not concern you.’ I was pleased by the momentary expression on the doctor’s face. He seemed taken aback by the coldness in my voice, but his face became a mask again only a second later. He read a page that was in his notepad:
‘It seems that you have a habit of avoiding answering questions asked by Dr. Francis or the other attendants here. Why?’
I didn’t hesitate before answering him. ‘I don’t avoid. I refuse.’ Not to be outdone, Dr. Berg launched his next question.
‘You avoided that question. What are you hiding from us?’ I didn’t answer. Instead, I stared the doctor into the eyes, unwavering. Finally, he wrote a few words on the pad, and stood up.
‘Tell me, Nathaniel, are you aware of what hypnosis is?’ Motioning me to follow, he strode across to the back of the room, to a door. I slowly got up, and began to follow him, looking back over my shoulder every now and then, to make sure that I wasn’t being followed.
‘Of course I know what hypnosis is.’ I hoped my voice would hide my annoyance of his unnecessary question. Emotions lead to exposing weakness.
‘Excellent. I assume you realize that we plan on putting you in a hypnotic state, in order to understand what happened to you.’ I stopped walking, even though I was still only halfway across the room from where Dr. Berg was standing.
‘You mean…You mean, before I came here?’ I couldn’t help it. My voice was shaking slightly.
‘Yes, before you came here. Are you willing to submit to hypnosis? Please, understand that it will be only be for the events you experienced in your house prior to your arrival here, and if you begin to suffer any emotional damage, we will, of course, remove you from unconsciousness immediately.’ The doctor opened the door.
I paused. Did I want to know? With the little amount of memories that I had retained, did I want to remember everything that had happened? The answer was
‘I’m willing to do it.’ Dr. Berg nodded slightly.

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It's too long, so I'm posting the rest below.
 
‘Very well. Please, follow me.’ He turned and entered the new room. I followed the rest of the way across his office, and as I stepped through the doorway, I could have sworn that I heard shuffling behind me, and a familiar sound of long nails scraping on wood. I hoped to God that it was just memories fading into reality.
I stopped after stepping through the doorway and looked around. The walls had been painted white, like the rest of the hospital, and inside the new room, there was a padded leather chair, a small desk in front of it, and a recliner. I saw no obvious hiding places, which was good.
The doctor faced me again. ‘Now, of course, you realize that we’ll need you to sign a waiver stating your complete cooperation in this therapy. You’ll be under the influence of a new experimental drug. Its side effects are…relatively unknown. We’re treading into uncharted territory, by administering this drug on an actual patient, but it should prove more effective and overall safer than traditional forms of hypnosis. Are you still willing to try it out, Nathaniel?’ The doctor opened a drawer on the desk, and produced a thick pad of white papers from inside the drawer, bound by several staples.
‘Yes, I still want to do it.’
The doctor flashed me a quick, tight-lipped smile. ‘Come to this desk, then, Nathaniel, and sign here.’ The doctor pointed to a line on one of the pages. I picked up a pen next to it, and printed my first name. The doctor looked slightly confused when I set the pen down.
‘Nathaniel, you need to include your last name, as well.’
‘I don’t remember my last name.’ That was true. I had no recollection of what my surname was. Ever since I awoke in my white bed several weeks ago, I had been trying to remember, but failing to do so.
The doctor cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. Then, he excused himself and went back to his office. I heard him talking on what I assumed was a phone, most likely consulting Dr. Francis. I stood quietly, waiting for him to return. My mind was, for once, clear of thought, and I was able to just stare at the carpeted floor blankly and feel time pass by.
It could have been ten minutes later, or only a minute, I don’t know, but Dr. Berg was back, and sitting down in the leather chair. He invited me to sit down in the recliner, and I obliged. It was a comfortable chair, but I felt out of place. No, the furniture felt out of place. With the walls being so white and bright, this dark brown and black furniture didn’t match.
‘What did you say?’ I hadn’t been listening, but Dr. Berg had asked me something.
‘I said, would you like something to drink for the pills?’ So the drug was in pill form. I didn’t need anything, and I told him that.
‘As you wish.’ Dr. Berg took a small, orange pill case out of his coat pocket, and popped the top off. He shook two small, white pills out of the case into his palm, and leaned across to give them to me. I took them from him, and swallowed both at once. Then, I laid back in the recliner, and closed my eyes. The doctor spoke again.
‘The pills should take effect within the next few minutes, Nathaniel, and then you’ll enter your subconscious memories. You may feel like you have free will, but don’t worry. You can’t die, because everything has already happened. You’ll…’ I tried to continue listening, but Dr. Berg’s voice drifted out of focus, and soon I could only hear a quiet buzzing noise. I didn’t care what it was, because it, too, soon faded away. The last thing I saw was everything turn white, and then I slipped into unconsciousness.

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Alright, so, I finally got it posted. Hope you guys enjoy it!
 
Youve done it again BetaMaster!! Congtatulations :D

Cant wait for the next chapter..

oh, and my favorte sentence in the chapter :

Its side effects are…relatively unknown. ( haha ) i could just picture his face when he said that!

Keep up the good work!
 
FINALLY! W00T!!!


I hope the mods don't close it.
 
I don't think they will, but I hope not either.
The second chapter's about half done right now, I hope to have it posted soon!

Glad everybody's enjoying it so far! :cheers:
 
Hi all :D Just wanted to dedicate my 500th post to this lovely thread !

BetaMaster is soon finished with chapter 2, as far as i know, i'm looking forward to read it...

Ps: sorry for souble posting ;)
 
Hey!
Sorry I haven't been on in a little bit...Been caught up with a mixture of things: School, swimteam (season's ending this week, though), and Black & White 2. I've been writing and rewriting parts of this chapter..I can't get the flow the way I want it to be..
But, I'm still working on it. It's just going to be more delayed than I previously anticipated (bitter irony of Gordon's Dead, it seems...). All I can say is to just try and be patient, and I'll get it finished as soon as possible.
Thanks!
 
@Betamaster: You signed with up with fiction press? Much the easy, same sort of system as fanfic but it's for your own media. www.fictionpress.com or just click on 'Read KRA' in my sig.
 
Okay...Today I locked myself in my room, and started writing for several hours straight. I refused to feed myself until I made progress. And boy, did I make progress.

I had it finished, believe it or not. But I felt that the end of the chapter was too rushed, and cheap. So I erased it, and began to start again. But I was suffering from writer's block again. And my wrists hurt now.

Yes, this is a shameless bump. But I wanted to say that I will be finishing the chapter this weekend, for real. I put this thing off long enough. Beginnings are hard for me. Once I get going, I keep going. I just have been having trouble with inspiration for lift off.

Here's something to tide you over for Chapter Two: Invasion.

‘So, Nathaniel signed the waiver?’

‘Yes, Samuel.’ Scott Francis pulled a large group of papers out of a drawer, as proof to his colleague.

‘Are you sure this was a good idea? The drug could lead to…difficulties, to say the least.’ Scanning through the pages of the waiver, Samuel Berg pointed to a line. ‘Right there. It could lead to violence, and prolonged trauma. Scott, I’m still against this idea. We don’t know what this will do to him. He obviously forced the memory out of his mind for a reason. You’re the psychiatrist, you know that.’

Scott nodded. ‘I’m aware. He couldn’t remember his last name, either.’

‘And don’t forget his unwillingness to cooperate and answer questions.’

‘I know. He refused to answer several of my questions, as well.’

‘I just…I hope you know what you’re doing.’

Scott ran one hand through his hair. ‘So do I. Otherwise, we could have a serious problem on our hands.’

The two doctors sat in silence for a few minutes. ‘Shouldn’t the drug be taking effect soon?’

‘Yes. Come on, let’s go see how he’s doing.’ Scott got up and led the way to the room Nathaniel was in.
 
Chapter Two: Invasion

As promised, here it is!
I'm sorry for the poor formatting. It's not accepting spaces before each paragraph, which is pissing me off. It makes it more difficult to see where paragraphs end. I added line breaks between each paragraph. It's annoying looking, but it's easier to discern paragraphs now.
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Chapter Two – Invasion

‘So, Nathaniel signed the waiver?’

‘Yes, Samuel.’ Scott Francis pulled a large group of papers out of a drawer, as proof to his colleague.

‘Are you sure this was a good idea? The drug could lead to…difficulties, to say the least.’ Scanning through the pages of the waiver, Samuel Berg pointed to a line. ‘Right there. It could lead to violence, and prolonged trauma. Scott, I’m still against this idea. We don’t know what this will do to him. He obviously forced the memory out of his mind for a reason. You’re the psychiatrist, you know that.’

Scott nodded. ‘I’m aware. He couldn’t remember his last name, either.’

‘And don’t forget his unwillingness to cooperate and answer questions.’

‘I know. He refused to answer several of my questions, as well.’

‘I just…I hope you know what you’re doing.’

Scott ran one hand through his hair. ‘So do I. Otherwise, we could have a serious problem on our hands.’

The two doctors sat in silence for a few minutes. ‘Shouldn’t the drug be taking effect soon?’

‘Yes. Come on, let’s go see how he’s doing.’ Scott got up and led the way to the room Nathaniel was in.

***

I woke up in a bed. My bed. In fact, I was in my room. I was home. But how?

I continued to lie in my bed, trying to remember. Everything seemed blurry, like a fading dream. Colors…Servants…Doctors. Yes, doctors. It all came back to me. Dr. Berg, the hypnosis…Venturing into my locked away memories. My heart began to pound. I was back home, but back before they came.

Try to calm down. Dr. Berg said that you’d be safe. You lived through it the first time, you’ll manage again.

So did I need to do everything exactly how it happened last time? I didn’t know how this worked. I hadn’t done this before. I had done this before, once, but my subconscious had locked that away. Maybe it’d come back to me as I did it. I hoped.

Just act normal. Cautiously, I rolled over onto my side and sat up on the bed. I didn’t check underneath the bed, because I didn’t need to. I was safe. It was a wonderful feeling.

Right across from my bed, my dresser sat, exactly where it always had been. I got up, walked over to it, and changed out of my sleeping clothes. After that, I went and took a shower. The white hospital didn’t have any of these comforts.

After turning the water off, and drying myself, I put on one of my robes. It was comfortable, as always. Now that everything was back, I was beginning to feel lightheaded with joy. But then I realized that was also because I was hungry.

I went back to the master bedroom, and turned on the intercom, to page my chef.

‘Cook, would I like you to make me breakfast. Make whatever you would like, and I will eat it.’ Could this actually be real, and the hospital had just been a bad dream? I was beginning to think so. This all seemed too life-like.

‘Certainly, Master-’ The chef’s voice was suddenly replaced with unintelligible moaning. Horrified, I backed away from the intercom. Only a second later, however, his voice was back. ‘We’ll notify you when it’s ready.’ The receiver turned off, leaving me standing in a shocked stupor. What had just happened? The chef had been talking, and then he was moaning. What had he been saying? My last name?

That was it. That was when I understood. Or, at least, thought I understood. My last name. I still couldn’t remember it, and it seemed that my deep unconscious still refused to let me know. What about other places where my name was? I went and searched for my wallet, finding it on my dresser. With trembling hands, I reached into it, and pulled out a credit card.
Where my name should have been, there was only a smear of what, to my horror, appeared to be blood. My checkbook, where my name was printed, and my driver’s license, both had similar forms of censoring done to them. With everything that had my name on it, the last name was unreadable; they were all covered with blood.

Why, though?

My thoughts were interrupted by a scream and a shatter. It was coming from a bedroom down the hall. I couldn’t tell for sure, but the scream sounded like a man’s voice.

I dropped my wallet, and nervously began to walk down the hall. Every door I passed was shut, except for the guest bedroom, right next to the stairs that led to the first floor. Inside, lying on the floor, was my butler.

Immediately, I rushed over to him, and checked for a pulse. There was none. However, his right arm, which was spread out underneath the bed, was moving, slightly. It took me a minute to realize why.

The arm wasn’t just moving, it was being moved. Something under the bed was moving it. Every now and then, the entire body would shift further underneath the bed, and then the arm would resume shaking slightly.

As disturbing of an image as this was to watch, I couldn’t help be entranced. It was frightening to watch as the lifeless body of my butler being pulled under a bed. In fact, it was so frightening that I couldn’t bring myself to look under, to see what was pulling the butler’s body.

I heard a slam, and turned around. The door that I had entered through had just slammed shut, with no apparent force that would cause this. I cautiously stood up and walked over to the door, and tried to open it. The handle wouldn’t move. It appeared to be locked, even though the locking mechanism was on my side of the door. I couldn’t get it to open.

Behind me, the bed creaked. I spun on my heels to see the butler, who had quite obviously been dead, rolled onto his stomach and, stabilizing himself with the bed, had begun to pull himself up off the ground. Once on his feet, he slowly turned to face me. We stood in silence for several minutes. During this time, I tried to reason out what had happened, and why this scene still didn’t feel right, leaving out the fact that this man, who had not had a pulse, was now on his feet and watching me.

What had caught my eye? I studied the butler, and then noticed what it was. His eyes, his entire eyes, not just his pupils, were entirely black. There was not a trace of white, or any other color. They were just jet-black. And he wasn’t breathing.

I had to say something. As scared as I was; as irrational as this situation was; I greeted him.

‘Hello?’ My voice was shaky; it was unsteady. I couldn’t control the infliction.

The butler continued to look at me, and then returned my greeting. ‘Hello.’

His voice completely lacked dimension. It was flat, even, and monotonous.

After this, the conversation lapsed in silence again. I needed to get out of this room. Something was terribly wrong. This wasn’t my butler. I couldn’t understand how I knew, but I knew.

It seemed like a loud noise had suddenly startled the man, this man impersonating my butler. He jolted, and took a few steps towards me.

‘Sir, can I assist you? I was about to begin cleaning this room. Is something wrong?’ If I hadn’t been completely paralyzed in fear, I would have laughed at the sheer irony of the situation. This imposter, who had been dead on my floor, was asking me if something was wrong!

I didn’t know what to do. How could a dead man be standing here? It was impossible. The butler was staring at me with a concerned expression on his face, but his eyes were still black, and looked…They looked dead. My legs felt like they were about to give out at any second. I had to get out of the room.

Instinctively, I spun on my heel, and grabbed the doorknob. Midway through turning and pulling it, I remembered that the door was locked. I abandoned the idea, and my ideas began to scan the room for some other way to get out of the room. Then I saw it.

On the other side of the bed, there was a window. The window only meant one thing for me: freedom. I franticly dove across the bed, to reach the window. I don’t know what the butler was doing during this time, because I was too focused on escape to waste time watching him. All I knew was that there was only one man occupying this room besides me, and he was an enemy. I had to get away from him.

I tried to pull the window open, but the frame wouldn’t budge. It was locked! I spun around, looking for something to break the window with. There was nothing heavy enough to break the reinforced glass. I felt like a trapped animal. What could I do? What options did I have?
My eyes caught sight of an oak chair, nearby me. It was pushed into a study, and was closer to me than to the imposter. I grabbed for the chair, and wielded it, facing the man again.

I fixed my eyes on him with a cold, merciless stare. ‘Who are you?’

The man actually looked confused. ‘Who am I?’

He dared to mock my question back at me. That’s what I saw in those eyes, which betrayed his expression. His eyes, which had remained black, were piercing, and laughed at me. I repeated my question.

‘Yes. Who are you? What have you done with my butler?’

The man gave a helpless half-shrug, with his shoulders. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I am your butler. I haven’t done anything. Is something wrong, sir?’

He refused to tell the truth. I decided to bring up the next point. ‘If you are my butler, then why were you lying on my floor, dead, mere minutes ago?’

The man ignored my question, and instead started to advance on me. ‘What’s wrong, sir? You should lie down.’

I raised the chair. ‘Stay away from me. I’m not afraid to use this on you.’ Maybe the man would listen to threats, if he wouldn’t tell me who he was. The man instantly stopped, and stood right where he was standing. He gave me another concerned look.

‘Sir…Please, put the chair down. Come with me.’ As he was talking, I caught a glimpse of his teeth. They weren’t normal. They were elongated, with sharp points. He had vicious, animal teeth. He had demon teeth.

I needed no other evidence. With a cry, I lunged towards the man, bringing the chair down upon his head. He let out a moan, and crumpled to the floor. Whether he was dead, or just unconscious, I didn’t check. I realized what I had done after I dropped the splintered remains of the chair, and collapsed onto the bed. The room was rapidly spinning. I had just attacked my butler.

No. I couldn’t let myself fall into believing that. It was not my butler. It was a demon. I saw the eyes. I saw the teeth.

The room was still spinning, but it had slowed down some. I forced myself to get up, and stumbled over to the body of the man. He looked at me with half-opened eyes, without moving his head, and bared his teeth at me. I heard a low snarl.

Still feeling the effects of nausea and dizziness, I jumped, and fell back. My head hit the floor, causing me to see stars. I scrambled to my feet, and grabbed the largest piece of the chair that I could reach, and struck the man on the head with it. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his mouth went slack. A long, thin tongue rolled out. It was not a human tongue. I was sure that he was dead.

It took an incredible amount of effort to fight back the reflex to throw up, and grabbed the legs of the man. I dragged him out to be beside the bed, and pushed him underneath it. He wasn’t visible anymore, from any point of the room. I picked up the remains of the chair, and dropped them behind the dresser. They would remain hidden for a long time, unless someone looked back there.

I heard a clicking sound, and whirled around. The door was opening. It was as if someone had pushed the door open, and then ran away, because there was nobody on the other side of the door. I got slowly to my feet, and walked towards the door. I felt sick to my stomach, and needed to get out of the room even more than before.

I walked through the doorway, and looked down the hall. It was empty. I assumed it was safe to walk down the hall, so I started to go towards the stairs. I was about halfway down the hall, when I glanced at my reflection in a mirror, hanging on the wall, out of the corner of my eye. I stepped back, to look at it again. My reflection was missing large patches of hair, and had a gash below my eye. I touched my cheekbone, where the cut appeared to be. I was fine. Then my reflection threw back its head and laughed. It reached through the mirror, and grabbed me by my neck, and pulled me into the mirror. I fell through, and lost consciousness. Everything turned white.

----------

That's the ending I finally decided to use...Maybe I'm just tired, but I think it works. Anyways, I'm INCREDIBLY sorry for the long wait for this chapter. It took far too long, and I promise it won't be so long next time.
Something I've noticed while writing White, so far, is I hate first-person writing. It gets so repetitive, only being able to use the pronoun 'I'. But oh well. Maybe I'll find some way to get around that later on.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed it!
 
Well, yes I liked it. Story was intriguing, to say the least.
 
I'm not as happy with it as a could have been. I know there's a lot of unanswered questions, and hardly any answered questions. But I'll get to that in later chapters.
 
Thanks BetaMaster! Now i can sleep peacefully again :D

Nicely written, and as always ¨keep up the good work!¨
 
Thanks, and sorry this chapter was shorter. I've been outlining how the rest of the story should unfold, so...Next one should be longer. And I hope to answer questions this chapter, too, lol
 
Hey...Been working on Chapter 3 today. Thanksgiving Break, so I'll be writing!
Chapter 3's called Possession. I'm also getting a good outline of the entire plot, which is something I never did with Gordon's Dead!
 
Five pages, and I'll be ending it soon. I've been giving it to some friends to read as I've been writing (which is, actually, the first time I've shown my friends my work), and they like it. Hopefully it'll live up to the previous chapters.

OH! Nathaniel sees one of them. So you learn what they look like!
Cheers.
 
Chapter Three - Possession

Oi, mates!
Bet you weren't expecting this so soon, but I finished chapter three!
I've gone over it a few times and caught a few errors...If you find anything that I missed, please tell me so that I can fix it!
It's too long to post, so I've uploaded it. This is chapters one through three, so skip ahead to page ten to read chapter three. Sorry for the inconvenience of needing to download!

http://rapidshare.de/files/9135782/White.doc
 
BetaMaster said:
lol, 381 views, and only three people have been reading this story.
yeah, thats kinda lol.. :/ We gotta do something! (seriously, cuz this is good stuff)

Anyways, nice that you've finished chapter 3.
Ill read it when i have time, i have a bit of homework that i need to deal with first..

Smell ya later :rolling:
 
Well, White's been put on hold. I'm rewriting Gordon's Dead, and chapter one has been finished. It's called Reinholts.

In (very) recent news, it was brought to my attention about an hour ago that someone has posted the first three chapters of White as their own work (even as a complete story :S ) over at Half-Life Fallout. If you're interested in seeing the guy get owned, here's a link:
http://www.hlfallout.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=48030
 
HAha, lol n1 there, you started a whole 19 page discussion :)
 
D: I just saw that. That's ridiculous.

HLFallout kind of sucks though.
 
Holy shit Beta, I'm reading the thread now, you totally pwned his ass! Nice job!
 
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