Saturday, October 4th, 20XX
One Month After The Incident....
Alan Maxwell hummed to himself as he sat in his bedroom, sketching away at his sketchbook while a tune from the playlist
on his phone blared away from the desk next to where he slept. Sure, one could argue it may have been more practical to
sit at his desk and draw but for some reason doing it like this was just way more comfortable for him.
That, and he was just feeling like being a lazy sack of potatoes at the moment.
Putting down his pencil, the young man held up the fruits of his labor and nodded in approval. "Not bad. Not bad at
all. Probably my best work so far, if I'm being brutally honest," His smile then stiffened as he spared a glance at the
other papers strewn about the top of his bed. "At least...in comparison to my first couple of attempts..."
The sketches before him were all of...varying levels of quality, but they did have common theme between them. Namely, a
humanoid figure donned in what looked to be some sort of body suit with a mask covering their face. He had played around
with a couple of styles before settling on the one he had before him.
A humanoid figure donned in some manner of body suit with a leather jacket over the upper half of their body, a mask, and
a scarf fluttering in the breeze. Some might ask why include the scarf and Alan's response would be something along the
lines of "...I don't know. I just thought it would look cool."
It was funny just how invested he was becoming lately when it came to sketching and drawing, but in hindsight, it did
make sense. Ever since he had gotten home from the hospital, and his mother had insisted he take it easy for a while and
not do anything strenuous, he was after needing activities to keep himself occupied. And, of course, to distract him
from the memories that refused to leave his head.
Heck, even in his sleep he couldn't truly escape the memories of that awful day....
Alan scowled and shook his head vigorously. He would not allow himself to spiral. Not after having one of
his better days. Trying to focus his mind elsewhere, he got to work on sprucing up said sketch by filling in the
missing areas, and then after that would come the actual coloring portion.
He began filling in the sketch slowly and carefully. A little blue there-
He could still hear the screams. Fresh in his mind. Filled with abject terror and panic.
Some black to go on the jacket as was appropriate. Maybe ease up on the pressure just a little so he-
The world consumed by a sickly green fog and transformed into something out of a nightmare. People
every which way trying to flee, screaming for help, some even praying to a higher power.
His careful tracings started to turn into fierce scribbles. He just needed to get this part right-
He still remembered the fog enveloping him, causing his entire being to suddenly break into spasms
as he lost almost all control of himself and fell to his knees. The burning, the urge to vomit, the
agony...he still remembered it all even now.
The scribbles became even more frantic and chaotic. He needed to focus, damn it! He had to! He wasn't weak!
He could do this-
He lay there amongst the bodies while the only sound he could hear were the screams of the poor souls echoing
all around him. Some part of him genuinely believing that he had been transported to Hell...and that death would
be welcome right about n-
The pencil's snapping in his grasp broke the spell and the sound gave him enough of a jolt that he immediately sat
up, panting heavily as he glanced all about his bedroom in a bit of a panic. Almost as if he were only seeing it for
the first time. "Huh? What? Where-"
The sight of such familiar surroundings- his laptop, the books on his nightstand, the sounds of Savage Garden's "Affirmation"
blaring from his phone. They were all enough to quell the storm that had been raging in his head and bring him back to
Earth. As such, he allowed himself to give out a long sigh of relief. "It's alright, Alan. You're not back there. You're
here. You're safe..."
Looking down at the splintered pieces of his pencil, Alan scowled and dropped them into the waste bin next to his bed...which
just so happened to have the broken remnants of several other pencils already in there. He then fetched himself a fresh
one from the drawer attached to the night table.
Taking a swig of his vitamin water to help further calm his nerves, he readied himself to get back to work. "Alright! Now
we got that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, let's-" He then gave a yelp at hearing a knocking on his door and a familiar
female voice speaking to him.
"Alan, sweetie? It's your Mom. May I come in for just a minute?"
Quick as a flash, he scooped up his drawings and stacked them together. "Sure thing, Mom!"
The door opened a woman's head poked in through the gap. She had fair skin, long brown curly hair and soft green eyes
and her face looked remarkably youthful if not for a few wrinkles under her eyes. From a distance, one would almost
mistake her for Alan's big sister. She flashed her young man a warm smile. "Hey there, Alan, darling. You doing alright?"
"Ehhh...." He bobbed his head side to side. "I suppose I'm doing as well as I can considering...well...everything..." His gaze travelled down to where the waste bin and its contents lay.
His mother's gaze followed suit and her smile seemed to fracture just a little. "...I see...you haven't been having any
nightmares lately...?"
He shook his head in denial. "Nah. My sleep's been pretty good the last couple of days, actually," He raised his head to meet her eyes with concern emanating from his own eyes like searchlights. "How about you?"
At this, his mother let out a sigh of her own and the wrinkles on her face seemed to become more visible. "My sleep's been
fine, I suppose...though kinda hard to get a rhythm going when work is calling you at the most inconvenient times.
Speaking of which..." She raised her face to meet his and now looked apologetic. "I...came to let you know I got
called in on short notice."
Alan couldn't help rolling his eyes, and this only made his Mom look even more guilty. "I know. I know. I'm getting just
as sick of it as you are, but you know how it is. We need every competent set of hands we can get. Especially since a number
of us have upped and left town the last couple of weeks..." Her face then averted his. Almost out of shame. "Can't say I blame them..."
Seeing the grief on her face made Alan's own demeanor shift to something less than upbeat. "Yeah...I suppose I can't blame
them either....not after....well, you know..." Both of them were then swallowed up a bubble of solemn silence with neither
wishing to acknowledge the dark truth. That things would never be the same after the Recluse Incident. "...How long you think
you'll be?"
His mother let out a disgruntled huff. "I honestly don't know. Could be a late shift with how things are right now..." She
forced a smile onto her face now. "Which is why I left you some money on the kitchen table. Go out, grab a bite to eat, and enjoy yourself for a couple of hours doing...whatever it is you feel like doing. I can't imagine being cooped up in here has been all that fun."
Seeing what she was trying to do, Alan couldn't help smiling warmly on his end. He really did have the coolest Mom around. "Thanks, Mom. You're the best...." He then stretched and unkinked his muscles. "Yeah, I think I could use some fresh air anyways. Maybe stop by the comic books store and see if anything new is in...might do me some good."
"Glad to hear that, sweetie," His Mom's smile brightened, becoming more genuine. "See if one of your friends or work buddies are around. Just make sure your phone is on you, and if you get into any sort of trouble...make sure you call me, alright?" Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. "You will call me, won't you, young man?"
He flinched at seeing that look of hers and found himself nodding rapidly. To which the look immediately faded and she was all smiles again. "Great! Alright then. You have a lovely evening, son. And I'll see you later." She blew a kiss at him and shut the door behind her.
Alan waited for the sound of her footsteps to recede and to hear the tell-tale sound of the front door closing behind her. Once that was
done, he reached behind his night table and pulled out the ski mask he kept hidden away and the gloves. He then went and grabbed a hoodie
and jacket out of the closet before eyeing the sketch on his bed warily.
He wasn't about to go off and do anything dangerous, but....well, it didn't hurt to be prepared in case something happened, right?
After all... He held up his hand and let the skin on it billow and pulsate before he clenched said hand tightly and looked into his mirror before ripping off his glasses. He didn't need them, but they did make him feel a bit more normal. Sane. This here ain't going away, is it?
As if in response, his hair shimmered and took on a dirty blonde coloring as his eyes shifted to more of a bright blue before resuming
their standard color schemes. Slipping his glasses back on, he put on his attire, hid away the gloves and mask, and went to grab the couple twenties left on the table. (His Mom did love to spoil him every chance she got)
Satisfied he had everything, he grabbed up his key from the wall rack next to the door and headed on out.
It was time for his night to begin....
One Month After The Incident....
Alan Maxwell hummed to himself as he sat in his bedroom, sketching away at his sketchbook while a tune from the playlist
on his phone blared away from the desk next to where he slept. Sure, one could argue it may have been more practical to
sit at his desk and draw but for some reason doing it like this was just way more comfortable for him.
That, and he was just feeling like being a lazy sack of potatoes at the moment.
Putting down his pencil, the young man held up the fruits of his labor and nodded in approval. "Not bad. Not bad at
all. Probably my best work so far, if I'm being brutally honest," His smile then stiffened as he spared a glance at the
other papers strewn about the top of his bed. "At least...in comparison to my first couple of attempts..."
The sketches before him were all of...varying levels of quality, but they did have common theme between them. Namely, a
humanoid figure donned in what looked to be some sort of body suit with a mask covering their face. He had played around
with a couple of styles before settling on the one he had before him.
A humanoid figure donned in some manner of body suit with a leather jacket over the upper half of their body, a mask, and
a scarf fluttering in the breeze. Some might ask why include the scarf and Alan's response would be something along the
lines of "...I don't know. I just thought it would look cool."
It was funny just how invested he was becoming lately when it came to sketching and drawing, but in hindsight, it did
make sense. Ever since he had gotten home from the hospital, and his mother had insisted he take it easy for a while and
not do anything strenuous, he was after needing activities to keep himself occupied. And, of course, to distract him
from the memories that refused to leave his head.
Heck, even in his sleep he couldn't truly escape the memories of that awful day....
Alan scowled and shook his head vigorously. He would not allow himself to spiral. Not after having one of
his better days. Trying to focus his mind elsewhere, he got to work on sprucing up said sketch by filling in the
missing areas, and then after that would come the actual coloring portion.
He began filling in the sketch slowly and carefully. A little blue there-
He could still hear the screams. Fresh in his mind. Filled with abject terror and panic.
Some black to go on the jacket as was appropriate. Maybe ease up on the pressure just a little so he-
The world consumed by a sickly green fog and transformed into something out of a nightmare. People
every which way trying to flee, screaming for help, some even praying to a higher power.
His careful tracings started to turn into fierce scribbles. He just needed to get this part right-
He still remembered the fog enveloping him, causing his entire being to suddenly break into spasms
as he lost almost all control of himself and fell to his knees. The burning, the urge to vomit, the
agony...he still remembered it all even now.
The scribbles became even more frantic and chaotic. He needed to focus, damn it! He had to! He wasn't weak!
He could do this-
He lay there amongst the bodies while the only sound he could hear were the screams of the poor souls echoing
all around him. Some part of him genuinely believing that he had been transported to Hell...and that death would
be welcome right about n-
The pencil's snapping in his grasp broke the spell and the sound gave him enough of a jolt that he immediately sat
up, panting heavily as he glanced all about his bedroom in a bit of a panic. Almost as if he were only seeing it for
the first time. "Huh? What? Where-"
The sight of such familiar surroundings- his laptop, the books on his nightstand, the sounds of Savage Garden's "Affirmation"
blaring from his phone. They were all enough to quell the storm that had been raging in his head and bring him back to
Earth. As such, he allowed himself to give out a long sigh of relief. "It's alright, Alan. You're not back there. You're
here. You're safe..."
Looking down at the splintered pieces of his pencil, Alan scowled and dropped them into the waste bin next to his bed...which
just so happened to have the broken remnants of several other pencils already in there. He then fetched himself a fresh
one from the drawer attached to the night table.
Taking a swig of his vitamin water to help further calm his nerves, he readied himself to get back to work. "Alright! Now
we got that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, let's-" He then gave a yelp at hearing a knocking on his door and a familiar
female voice speaking to him.
"Alan, sweetie? It's your Mom. May I come in for just a minute?"
Quick as a flash, he scooped up his drawings and stacked them together. "Sure thing, Mom!"
The door opened a woman's head poked in through the gap. She had fair skin, long brown curly hair and soft green eyes
and her face looked remarkably youthful if not for a few wrinkles under her eyes. From a distance, one would almost
mistake her for Alan's big sister. She flashed her young man a warm smile. "Hey there, Alan, darling. You doing alright?"
"Ehhh...." He bobbed his head side to side. "I suppose I'm doing as well as I can considering...well...everything..." His gaze travelled down to where the waste bin and its contents lay.
His mother's gaze followed suit and her smile seemed to fracture just a little. "...I see...you haven't been having any
nightmares lately...?"
He shook his head in denial. "Nah. My sleep's been pretty good the last couple of days, actually," He raised his head to meet her eyes with concern emanating from his own eyes like searchlights. "How about you?"
At this, his mother let out a sigh of her own and the wrinkles on her face seemed to become more visible. "My sleep's been
fine, I suppose...though kinda hard to get a rhythm going when work is calling you at the most inconvenient times.
Speaking of which..." She raised her face to meet his and now looked apologetic. "I...came to let you know I got
called in on short notice."
Alan couldn't help rolling his eyes, and this only made his Mom look even more guilty. "I know. I know. I'm getting just
as sick of it as you are, but you know how it is. We need every competent set of hands we can get. Especially since a number
of us have upped and left town the last couple of weeks..." Her face then averted his. Almost out of shame. "Can't say I blame them..."
Seeing the grief on her face made Alan's own demeanor shift to something less than upbeat. "Yeah...I suppose I can't blame
them either....not after....well, you know..." Both of them were then swallowed up a bubble of solemn silence with neither
wishing to acknowledge the dark truth. That things would never be the same after the Recluse Incident. "...How long you think
you'll be?"
His mother let out a disgruntled huff. "I honestly don't know. Could be a late shift with how things are right now..." She
forced a smile onto her face now. "Which is why I left you some money on the kitchen table. Go out, grab a bite to eat, and enjoy yourself for a couple of hours doing...whatever it is you feel like doing. I can't imagine being cooped up in here has been all that fun."
Seeing what she was trying to do, Alan couldn't help smiling warmly on his end. He really did have the coolest Mom around. "Thanks, Mom. You're the best...." He then stretched and unkinked his muscles. "Yeah, I think I could use some fresh air anyways. Maybe stop by the comic books store and see if anything new is in...might do me some good."
"Glad to hear that, sweetie," His Mom's smile brightened, becoming more genuine. "See if one of your friends or work buddies are around. Just make sure your phone is on you, and if you get into any sort of trouble...make sure you call me, alright?" Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. "You will call me, won't you, young man?"
He flinched at seeing that look of hers and found himself nodding rapidly. To which the look immediately faded and she was all smiles again. "Great! Alright then. You have a lovely evening, son. And I'll see you later." She blew a kiss at him and shut the door behind her.
Alan waited for the sound of her footsteps to recede and to hear the tell-tale sound of the front door closing behind her. Once that was
done, he reached behind his night table and pulled out the ski mask he kept hidden away and the gloves. He then went and grabbed a hoodie
and jacket out of the closet before eyeing the sketch on his bed warily.
He wasn't about to go off and do anything dangerous, but....well, it didn't hurt to be prepared in case something happened, right?
After all... He held up his hand and let the skin on it billow and pulsate before he clenched said hand tightly and looked into his mirror before ripping off his glasses. He didn't need them, but they did make him feel a bit more normal. Sane. This here ain't going away, is it?
As if in response, his hair shimmered and took on a dirty blonde coloring as his eyes shifted to more of a bright blue before resuming
their standard color schemes. Slipping his glasses back on, he put on his attire, hid away the gloves and mask, and went to grab the couple twenties left on the table. (His Mom did love to spoil him every chance she got)
Satisfied he had everything, he grabbed up his key from the wall rack next to the door and headed on out.
It was time for his night to begin....
