Briza

The Demon Within

James shook Damian's hand, but remained silent, nodding his head in understanding. For a moment he was silent. It was an awkward moment, until he finally decided to speak. He poked his chin above his scarf, no longer concealing his lower mouth, "Meus, uh, D-Damian, ex-excuse me. My name is James," he shook his head to show shame for his linguistic mistake; a sheepish smile drew itself on James' face. He felt embarrassed, awkward, defeated, as usual. There was nothing new about this unfortunate sensation. He was started to get used to it...

The Demon Within

James did not reply to Damian. He stuck out his hand as to offer a handshake, instead. He was not sure why, but the notebook scared him from talking, and Ashley's negative remarks sounded hauntingly similar to his own thoughts and mess. A small pain developed for her, but slowly morphed into more self-pity as he remembered his own grave being dug.

Nightmare in Paradise

Jane was sitting under a huge, exotic looking tree. The leaves were beautiful with unusual colors. The bark of the tree was rough, etched with a vividly surreal pattern. The leaves bent with the wind, shifting up and down, up and down. As peaceful as the tree was working, reflecting, abstracting, and absorbing light, Jane was hugging her legs, pulled to her chest. She was staring at the grass underneath her. The light refracting from the grass made a rainbow-like appearance. This world was strangely beautiful, but for the third day, now, she still was not used to being in this "mental state."

She was also feeling lonely. The thought of seeing her Church friends, seemed like a good idea, again. She reseted her head on her knees, letting out an unenthusiastic sigh of hopelessness. Hope, never lose hope. This task was starting to become more difficult with the passing minutes.

What was in that acid? Is this a new kind of drug. . ?

She lifted her head and shook it, before nestling her nose in between her propped knees. Her short brown hair felt a brush of the wind flare, and then die down. The wind seemed to do this quite often and the third 24-hour cycle of this kind of treatment was making Jane lose her mind. She was bored and lost, or still somewhere in her room--afraid to walk anywhere too far from the tree and accidentally meet her parents' downstairs. They would throw her into a mental health facility, again, when they saw her mind being eaten by the acid worm. Two stays at a mental health correctional facility was all she needed to learn her lesson.

Or was it?

She was wearing a white shirt with green horizontal strips, pink pajama boxer-shorts, and white socks. She could feel the grass tickling through her socks, which was nothing close to the feeling of carpet. The air and the wind. Did she leave her fan on high before falling asleep? She could not remember several important details. What time did she even fall asleep? And. . had it been four days or was this nearly an elongated, stretched out four minutes?

Maybe it was okay to start roaming around. Maybe one step in this surreal world would not move her body in the real world. Jane stood up. The tree's presence shifted on her, and she took several steps, and turned around to look at the tree. It was standing so tall, so strongly. She almost missed sitting under him--or her, it, perhaps.

Jane let out a small breath of annoyance before puckering-up her courage to start wandering. If worse comes to worse, I will wake up in a hospital bed. Don't be scared.

The Demon Within

There was something comforting about there being more people experiencing the same problem as him--the voice. He tugged on the sleeves of his jacket, making sure his hands were being covered from the cool air. He kept his lower face partially buried in the scarf around his neck. James also felt a relief that he was not the only male in the group. Before following Katherin, he made the sign of the cross, Eastern style, of course. Domine, exaudi orationem. He tucked his hands now into his pockets, nervously. Just maybe, just maybe there would be a win from all of this.

Run and hide

"Thank you for the small bidding battle, Luciana," James smiled, cheekily. He looked at the rest of the cages to see if there was a slave for him. He watched as Alex and Luciana's other slave wonder to wherever they were going. He debated asking her for lunch. The tavern he had just visited seemed nice and was near by, but the other half of him decided she looked better in a different light, one a bit deader than she currently was.

He decided to leave the fragile looking creature and her slaves alone. They did not seem too social.

Run and hide

I am off for the night. Good night! Bonum nocte!

The Demon Within

I will be off for the night. I have a final exam tomorrow and must study! Good night! Bonum nocte!

The Demon Within

James wrote, "How?" And gave the notebook back. The thought of help seemed like a relieving word, but getting his hopes up too much only to be disappointed was starting to become another nightmare--that very well may plague the rest of his life. He held his head, all the Latin in his brain was rushing at him at once. The first time he studied Latin, he felt drunk. He figured dead languages had that effect, but now, the drunken feeling was a cloud of darkness ready to pour down. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front them. They had only just met, but his sister, soror amor. The thought of her kept biting his mind.

The Demon Within

James stared at the piece of paper, reading the words--before he could finish reading, another female describing herself as "Ashley," caught the notebook before him. He pressed his chin against his neck, letting his mouth becovered by his scarf. The warm comfort of the soft fabric against his lips eased his mind. All these females. They reminded him of his sister. They looked nothing like her, but they did give him memory flashbacks. He took the notebook at last and jotted several words, "My name is James. Why are we here?"

He could feel himself being drawn to the Latin language around Katherin. Why would his mind be racing in a dead language? Quid Latine? His mind normally only thought so fatifer when he was concentrating on a specimen in the lab. And, around his sister...

He shoved the notebook back to Katherin. He seemed rude and egotistical the way he just let loose of the notebook. He must have looked like an asshole. He had been feeling more and more like one the less and less the voice let him think. His chin sank back into his scarf, where his warm breathes isolated themselves between his teeth, tongue, lips and scarf.

Run and hide

James extended his hand to affirm the handshake. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Luciana," his large hand, took hold of hers firmly, not tightly, not to extend his strength or exert his manliness, but simply to shake and initiate a reciprocation of her invitation. Before he could continue the conversation with questions such as, Further use? Now you have me curious. or Let me have the slave, you're so kind., another bid inflated the price by several thousand dollars.

A gloss screened over James' eyes. He really did not want to bid over $10,000. The competition was starting to become more interesting. He did not want to make the err of bidding just to bid, to show he could beat Dominik just for the sake of beating him. Did he really want the slave, a male slave? He stared at Alex, noticing how lonely he actually was.

"$10, 050," he said at last.