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R.E.M. - Reality, Existence, Mentality



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Pulling up to Jefferson High in her mothers car Shizuka hurriedly opened the passenger side door. The faint sounding of the schools bells alerted her to the fact that first period was starting soon. She stepped a foot out of the car preparing to sprint to her class, however her mother called her name. Turning around she saw that she was about to leave her lunch sitting on the dashboard. "AH! Thanks mom." She leaned back in to grab the lunch, and as she was about to say goodbye to her mother something... odd happened. Her senses left her for a moment, a moment in which she felt confounded and lost.

The schools bell rang once more, though it was now clearly heard by her, and her location had suddenly changed. This was her third period class, everyone was heading out for their lunch break. She grasped this, however what caused her to blink rapidly and look around frantically was the fact that she knew that just moments ago she was outside. She tried to remain calm, the notion that her mind was failing her was highly obtuse. Standing out of her seat she took her lunch from under her chair. A surreal feeling akin to Déjà vu hit her. Placing her lunch under her desk was something she always did, so grabbing it was a no-brainier. However she had no recollection of placing it there. "Ugh..." Her head was starting to hurt now, she didn't want to think about this anymore, hopefully it was a one time occurrence. Exiting the room she glanced at the other students passing by, everyone was fine, acting as if everything were normal. This somehow made her feel even more disheveled, if she were the only one who had noticed this then there was a good chance something really was wrong with her... Well, that something 'else' was wrong with her.

Walking into the school cafeteria with her head hung low she sat at an empty table. She sat her lunch box down and opened it, a subtle smile creased her lips. Her mother had packed one of her favorite meals, fresh sushi and steamed rice. The smile died down as she realized that she didn't have much of an appetite, her mind was simply too busy right now. Placing the lid back on the box she let out a melancholy sigh. "...I wonder how far it's progressed now." She mumbled to herself, reaching into a pocket she took out a small metal ball the size of a golf ball. Taking it in her right hand she pressed into it with her thumb. "W-whoa.." The metallic surface caved in around her thumb as if it were suddenly made out of plush. Up until now this strange ability of hers to change an objects properties hadn't manifested in such a profound way. She wondered just how far it was going to advance, at the rate it was going now she figured she might be able to alter something as large as a car soon. Quickly putting the metal ball away before anyone got suspicious she glanced at the clock resting on a wall at the far side of the cafeteria. "Heh.. doesn't feel so reliable all of a sudden..."

"So, I've got an interesting story today...." Looking behind her Shizuka noticed Evan and David, fellow students they she could say she knew fairly well. She couldn't help but hear what Evan had to say, a story which she found quite interesting indeed. So she wasn't the only one who had experienced the time skip, she felt like the weight of a thousand sandbags had been lifted from her shoulders. She was so overjoyed in fact that she leaped up from her seat and hugged Evan from behind.

"Evan you too? I thought I was going crazy, oh thank goodness!" She released him, then sitting beside him joining the two. "Hmm... This doesn't make it normal though does it?" She chuckled, feeling that she could this situation far more lightly now.
 

Orion

Prepared To Die
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Liora recognised the throne of trash and wire instantly. Darting her gaze to her right, she caught a glimpse of the graffiti devil, 'LIES' branded over its eyes. From without, the alleyway always looked vague and unrefined, its contents fuzzy around the edges. When one entered it, things came into sharp relief, and a bedraggled, unkempt man always stepped forth, willing to make a deal. Liora had been here once before, when she first learned of what Belhor did and provided.

In the last few days she had been planning to visit again, this time to gain something. She hadn't intended to find herself here so suddenly, let alone be virtually face-to-face with Belhor with no notice whatsoever, as if she had been teleported there, or suddenly awoken from sleep.

A weight in her hands suddenly snatched her attention back to the here and now, and her eyes darted down to see Belhors gloves hands hovering above hers, the edge of a small wooden box just visible in her palms.

It was grey-brown, an inch high, two wide and several long, and as she caressed it and turned it over, found that it had no visible way to open. Every touch of it also felt like she was brushing over a surface covered with ultra-find sand or dust, even ash, but it never left anything on her digits when she pulled them away.

She had no idea exactly how she got there, but still tried to play it cool. "So, before I walk out of here, let's be perfectly clear. Once more: the details of my gift and the price paid?
 

Endless Warrior Sora

Return of the Kid
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Devon walked through the doors of the library... and that led him right outside of the door from his third period class. He stopped immediately, followed by grimacing and exaggerated blinking noting obvious confusion.

"What the-" He mused as other students pushed his way past him. He looked down at his right hand and found his Geometry textbook there in his hand, something that was not there before. Hadn't it just been morning? Since when did it get to be the afternoon? Wedging his book into his underarm, he grabbed the precious camera that hung about his neck. Turning it on, he put it in playback mode and began scrolling through the photos. To his bewilderment, he found several photos taken from hours before in his photo library. Portraits he had no recollection of taking. However there they were, staring him right in the face. Pictures of classmates, scenery, oblivious teachers....

"I needa get some food or somethin." He said, trying to release the confusion with a deep exhale. Lowering his book he and shifting his glasses back on his face, he made his way to the cafeteria...knowing he probably was going to regret whatever radioactive chemical he was about to ingest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What are you talking about, Mr. Russell?"


Hua lifted her head from her desk. Desk? When had she gotten into a class? Mr. Russell? That would mean she was in Third Period English. But that would be quite impossible because it was just the morning. She looked at the student who posed the question, and then around the entire classroom. She was the Teacher's Assistant for the class, being too advanced for English I, however she hadn't realized she had dozed off. In fact she hadn't realized the past several hours that had seemingly passed without warning. That was certainly...weird. But she did notice Mr. Russell's confused expression. It seemed as though they were the only two confused people in the class room. The bell rang and the students couldn't have left fast enough. Grabbing her own bag, Hua could see Mr. Russell retreat to his chair through her periphreals. He really seemed exhausted. She hesitated before leaving, feeling a little bit of pity for him. She stopped before leaving and turned to the man.

"Um...you okay?...Mr. Russell?" She asked sheepishly. She didn't usually speak to teachers, but felt maybe it was appropriate. Her conscious could at least rest easy.
 

Ashes Remnant

It's All Crazy! It's All False!
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Belhor laughed slightly to himself. He was in his personal sanctum, his alleyway. The stench of the trash filled his nostrils. The sound of the quiet city seemed to be drowning out the noise of the conversation he found himself in the middle of.

In front of him stood Liora, a girl he knew to be dating Luke. Luke had come to him before, for small things as most do, but Belhor could see inside of him. There was a spark inside him, and it was one that he sought. This girl had one too, a brighter spark, but it was not time to take her spark.

Belhor found his hands clasped over a small object in Liora's hand. He recognized it immediately. It was a treat from back home. One of the few he had left. The conversation he and Liora had immediately before him was as if it were in a dream he had just waken from. Belhor however had a special kind of talent for remembering things. He knew what she had come to him and said, what she sought. And why he was giving her such a gift.

"So, before I walk out of here, let's be perfectly clear. Once more: the details of my gift and the price paid?"

Belhor smiled from ear to ear. He leaned in close to Liora, his hot breath washing over her soft skin. He placed his hands on her shoulders as his eyes lit up with the excitement of a child. Slowly and almost seductively, he whispered to her. ""I knew a Liora before you, y'know. Hebrew name, and she had it authentically too. Nice girl, like you, and nice place like this. Pity about the temple, though.." Belhor leaned down, kissing her neck softly. He felt her start to squirm, and he tightened his grip slightly on her.

"You give this to that.. Boy of yours. The one who you look at and feel sorry for. The one who has a soulless gaze. If you want to remove his sorrow, you place this in his hands, and his only.." As the words slid off his tongue, he brushed his lips against the soft skin of her neck. He then quickly pulled back, and said loudly, "And if you don't, well, you might just lose a limb or two!"

He turned on his heel and walked away, stepping on an old beer can. As he stepped away, he practically yelled out to Liora, saying, "Make sure you give it to him while it's ripe! You'll know by the cracking and the whispers."

Moments later, Liora called out to him, asking about the price she had to pay. Belhor turned, and fell backwards into his twisted throne of trash and wire. He smiled at her, and said, "I can't take anything from you! You owe me a favor, my lover. One I don't think I'll cash in yet. I'll come to you in the future. You will not tell anyone of this. Nor the favor. If you do, well.. The hospital seems poorly staffed nowadays. I don't think they could save a little girl who has a bad accident.."
 

Ordeith

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Dearest Thyme,

To be frank, the brisk tone of your letter might affront one who is not yet familiar with the intent behind your demeanor, as I am. (I recommend at least a cursory review of "The American Letter-Writer," to avoid the continuation of such habits in situations that would be less forgiving.) Being your mother now and always, I am nevertheless pleased to receive such friendly sentiments from my daughter. Reading this Tuesday's mail, my heart was lifted to such elevated heights that...

__________________________________________

Sage Braddock twisted her mouth, sighed, and tossed the letter onto her empty passenger seat. She had been sure—or rather, hopeful—that this little venture would turn out well. Mother would hug child, and ask about her health; child would talk about work after graduation. Father would nod, and keep a stiff upper lip. Some time would be spent discussing Sage's latest painting, brought as kind of a peace offering. They would eat lunch, reminisce on the good times, and conclude feeling a little better about each other.

That was the ideal. Glancing over the letter again, Sage shifted her expectations to a realistic low.
After avoiding contact with them since graduation, she had almost forgotten how conversations with her parents usually proceeded.

Her mother's antiquated letter brought it back in high-definition—all the unpleasant ticks: Rosemary's shriveled looks of disapproval, when her mouth pinched together like a dried fruit. Father's way of staring straight ahead, as if he didn't quite hear anything you'd just said. The quizzical stares, the blank looks. Her mother's feeble submission to her Victorian husband. Most irritating of all was her parents' complete ignorance and intolerance of anything foreign.

The word "negro" was somehow acceptable between them; and her father had once called "Moslims" a "pack of deceived liars."

Sage exhaled again, and turned the key in the ignition. She began wishing for the positive thoughts of a week earlier.
"They don't mean it," she muttered to herself. "It's just how they've always thought about things." For all their social grace, they really had no tact.

She shifted the gear into reverse, and pulled into the street. Traffic would hopefully prove cooperative enough, but she still left reasonably in advance. If she arrived with time to spare, Sage hoped to take a brief stroll down Memory Lane—some friends' houses, the high school, and her old art teacher. Art Breuggemann was always ranting in emails about how they never talked anymore, that nobody cared about art teachers, even they were ironic enough to have the first name Arthur.

Sage hoped she could visit. "First things first, though. Mother and Father still deserve my time more..."
She placed her foot on the accelerator . . . only to find her car rooted in place, parallel-parked in front of her parents' whitewashed porch.

_____________________________________________________​

Elsewhere in Pleasington, an unaccented black sedan crawled gently to a stop. It parked, but the engine continued running, and no doors opened. "I see you. Any word from our mobile operatives?"

The main office of Pleasington Employment Services had a wide, spacious parking lot that was never used to full capacity. It also enjoyed a scenic view of the local high school, where the students were always generous with their time. Whenever a class was assigned a service project, one group would inevitably drive up the street and volunteer at the employment center. No such volunteers on a weekday morning. The sedan went unseen and unmolested.

The driver and three passengers remained seated, overlooking the high school farther down the road. Inside, the conference call was being conducted by a man in a three-piece suit, sitting in the backseat.

"Nothing outside of what we'd expect." His voice was a smooth radio monotone, like a slightly tinny recording from decades ago. "The boys in black have moved into position; your estimated time of action should still be good. Heh! We'll be taking our cues from them, so—"

BRRRPPPZZZT​

"Ooh. Looks like we've had some agitation. You detected that, I hope?"

"Yes. I started tracking it since you cut off. Source was the high school. Timed at about . . . five hours."

"Thanks! Sometimes it's just such a pain to lift my wrist up to my face. Are the mobile agents still in position? And how's our boy doing?"

"Hm. Both seem like they're doing well. We're just a little closer to our ETA, that's all."

"Cool. Let's go with the flow, then. Over and out."

"Talk to you soon."


All four doors opened at once.
 

OmniChaos

The Smiling Man
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"Well, I'm pretty sure I bombed that test," Chris joked to his classmates as they left third period, his books snuggled under his right arm. They crossed the hallway, wading through the stream of students heading down the hall, and walked out the door to the front of the school, where a large kiosk area with several tin coverings—a commonplace for students to eat under during lunchtime—stood. A small line was formed in front of an opening in the cafeteria's rear, allowing students to purchase certain things (like chips, burgers, and bottled refreshments) from the lunch ladies from the outside. Chris sghed. "At least it's finally lunch. Those classes stretched on for what felt like forever."

Chris waved to his classmates as they parted ways, him heading to his brother's room where he always ate lunch as the others headed to the kiosk. Chris never cared for the cafeteria food, so him and his brother always brought a bit of pizza to eat instead. As he passed the school gates, he noticed a strange man standing just inside them, though no one seemed to notice him (or at least paid him no heed). He was a curious sort, standing there, unmoving, with a gleeful smile that just pushed at the seams of insanity. His hair was raven black and blew wildly, veiling, from time to time, his bright crimson eyes, a wild gleam running through them. His hands were buried wrist-deep in the pockets of his black jeans. Chris knew he probably shouldn't—that he should probably just continue on to his brother's class—but something compelled him to speak to this man.

"Hello?" he asked, approaching the man cautiously. He watched the man carefully as he approached, not allowing his eyes to stray from him. "Can I help you, sir?"

The man tittered. "Ah, but you are already helping me, Chris, though you do not know it. Aye, helping me quite a bit, I must say. And indeed, I must thank you quite a bit. So I say thank you, thank you, thank you."

"How do you know my name?" Chris questioned defensively, taking a step away. He had grown very uncomfortable and was now worried about what the man might do to him; this strange man with the crazed smile. Chris knew he could outrun him, but he didn't know if the man had a gun, and no matter how fast he could run, Chris couldn't outrun a bullet. He retreated another step. "Who are you?"

"No one you need concern yourself with, child, for I am simply an observer in this game, that I am. Aye, just to watch the pieces fall where they may until the wind catches them and sets them to dance again." The man tittered. "Ah, but should you not be heading to your dear Michael? Surely he must be growing quite worried. Aye, quite quite quite! So go, Chris, hurry! Fate cannot wait, nor the 'tick-tock'-ing of the passing time. So make haste to your dear brother before you regret it."

"What?" Chris choked, taken back by the man's threat. "What are you—"

"No time," the man interrupted, spinning on his heels. "You must go now." He ran out through the gates and turned to the right, calling back "Go!"

Chris ran out after him, but as he looked down the way the man had taken, he could not be seen. Chris stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by the events that had just occured, shook his head lightly, then went back through the gates. Who was that strange man? How did he know so much about him? Chris pushed the thoughts aside, writing off the entire thing as a hallucination set on by his hunger, and continued on to his brother's room. His stomach let out an iritated growl. The man—or hallucination—was right about one thing: he needed to hurry to Michael's room. He was very hungry.

~*~

"What?!" Michael shot up from his desk, staring his student, Crate, directly in the eyes. A small twinge ran through his eyes as realization began to take hold of the man. "How did you..." He turned from his student and looked out the window, seeing the sun now much higher than what it was but a few minutes ago. "So I'm not going crazy. Time did jump forward." He shook his head. "I-I didn't know he could do this."

Michael sighed, massaging his temples. He didn't want to get his students involved in this mess, especially with how deep things went. He rose from his desk, noticing that he and Crate were not alone, and that Hua was now there as well, but Michael didn't restrain his words. It didn't matter either way. If she had powers like him and, apparently, Crate, then she would discover this on her own eventually. If she didn't, then she could easily be made to forget anything she heard. But Michael would bet the former.

"Listen you two: you cannot repeat this to anyone else. I believe I know what caused the time jump we all experienced. It was..." Michael trailed off as someone walked into his room. It was his brother. "Chris?"

"I tell you," Chris started, shaking his head. He walked into the room, dropping his books onto one of the small desks. "This has been the craziest day. You wound not believe—"

Suddenly, everything stopped as time skidded to a halt. The second hand ticked slower and slower, until it finally stopped moving with a deep 'tick.' Chris was frozen stiff, still locked in the middle of a sentence he could not finish. Michael looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. He knew it couldn't be Chris, since he was caught up in whatever this was. But then what was it? The whiny whistle that seemed to reverberate across the entire school, like the high-pitched humming of a persistent mosquito, certainly didn't help.

"Wha—?!" Michael questioned, unable to draw the words he sought. "What is this?"

As if to personally answer Michael's question, a large explosion, which shook not just the school, but likely the entire town, blew in the far wall, sending a shower of debris and shards of glass toward them. Michael acted fast, throwing a chair to knock over his statuesque brother—he was going to be feeling that for a little while, Michael wagered—and threw himself onto his students, dragging them to the ground just as the debris flew overhead, striking the hallway wall. The glass chimed as it fell onto the floor.

"Mr. Russell," a voice chimed from behind the dust. A man dressed entirely in black stepped through the gaping hole in the wall, adjusting his black necktie. He removed his black sunglasses, revealing bright, green irises. "It's nice to meet you. Now, if I may, I will be killing your brother."
 

Kazem

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Others joined David at the table, and each confirmed the odd skipping of time. The lunch room was buzzing with life and chatter, laughing and screaming common, messes already being made boy those too lazy or careless to clean it. The noise was all filtered out of David's listening, mostly ignored but a good portion being dampened. Shizuka seemed to be happy about the whole matter, which could be understandable. "Normal is definitely not a word I'd personally use to describe it, but then again, odd things have been happening now and again. Like the "Suits" and....oh, what was it? Some sort of dealer or something. Anyway, doesn't it seem odd that the only people to notice it are our little group and a few others? I don't often hear the teachers talk much about it, and these other students seem relatively oblivious, but to be fair they are students."

David's ears heard a weird distortion before closing in on a conversation between another group of students. They talked about the usual gossip and griped about tests before mentioning David's name. When he turned around, he was surprised to see the group not behind him, but all the way across the cafeteria. Turning back towards the table, David mumbled an "odd" and began to work on his noodles when his body went tense. There was a insanely high-pitched noise attacking David's ears before it died down into a rumble, but it wasn't long before the volume increased as the explosion rang throughout the school.

The reactions of the room were pretty typical. Some students dropped to the floor, which was the first thing that came to mind for David. Others simply snapped their heads towards the sound, some in shock, some already scared. Still others simply stood or sat there, afraid to acknowledge the explosion. David didn't quite fit into any of these, and instead of dropping to the floor, he stood up. Noise was always an important part of David's life, but today it was a part of the fates of those in the cafeteria. A breath was taken, and a shout was let out before David's flight-or-fight kicked in. "Get out of the school!"

His voice rang out, reaching a majority of the students and teachers, and left David with no idea whether to follow them out or to rush to the explosion site to check on any injured students. His heart dropped when he imagined being left there to die on the ground, glass and bits of building peppering his body, and made a decision. "If you two can, help me check for any injured! If you can't please help the teachers get these students into gear, this seems a bit bigger than a Bunsen burner left on for too long." David's mind was racing as he sprinted, his long legs carrying him swiftly towards the source. No deaths. Please don't let there be any deaths. I can't handle the sight of mourning fami-

A trip on a chunk of wood brought David down hard into bits of building, earning him a few bruises and a gnarly scratch down his left arm. He only let the injury stop him for a few seconds before he started again, still going towards the site of the explosion, the image of people suffering much more pain than he was supporting his shaky determination to help as many as he could. David wasn't one to care about too many other people, but injuries didn't care about who they appeared on, and David sure wasn't one to just abandon people.

I'm guess Mom was right, I'm too sympathetic for my own good.
 

Ðari

Look at you, armor-less
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"So we're in agreement. Please have a seat Shizuka."

Evan raised his hand to Shizuka, David resolved his brief observation and finally spoke and so he listened. These were the kind of things that were happening even more frequently, it was worse for Evan, because his body was trying to reject the shifts, but he'd have to be closer to the focal point to shield it from spreading over such dynamic range. By the time that build up hits him, a time skip, a change in scenery you name it, it's like watching everything be reconstructed, reformatted, advanced in slow motion for him. It'd drive the under composed man quite mad!

"Suits David? They're no different than the adamant secret service men that surround our congressmen on Wall Street. Are you worried they're dangerous?" Evan inquired.

He took a sip from his thermos, it was some portal minestrone soup his maid Aberdeen had crafted with the utmost love and ingenuity from scratch. The ripening temperature was enough to fill his face with color, but as he sipped and shivered with such a feel of relief, he was agitating his blanket severely by how his heart was responding. A chill of warmth proceeded to then race down his spine, and the blanket began to expand and grow. Evan is actively the only one able to see it, but those it sought to hinder...matter in motion, would stop.

An ear-splitting sound, that died off into a dull roar with the signs of a mild quake that shook the floor of the cafeteria. It was likely the entire school would be like this, it only took a number of seconds before the women of the room shrieked in fear and confusion. That glass that would've fallen from the quake to splinter into them from above was repelled, pushed back as even Evan didn't realize his blanket was expanding as he sat docile drinking the warm soup. He didn't feel the motion, and at least half of it was being reduced at least in the area of the cafeteria, the others seemed to be over-killing the drama, but he sat fairly comfortable.

Some of the glass admittedly fell through in the areas his blanket didn't touch, it began to shrink when he started paying attention. It was almost as if he were so civil and relaxed that he went deaf to complete chaos in this brief instance. David surprised Evan, his usual cool and reserved self collapsed into panic as he joined the pandemonium and uproar. Maybe it was just Evan's upbringing and how many enticingly terrible situations and altercations he dealt with as an orphan and foster child, but he didn't hold against him.

Evan stood up and walked perfectly balanced in the chaos, as David tripped and scraped himself up a bit Evan helped him up. "Easy GI Joe, you can't help anyone you're getting hurt too." as he lifted him up, something Evan never noticed before happened. David's scrapes began to dissipate, as if the injuries themselves were being 'rejected' and sealing, to indicate they never occurred initially. 'Thats new...wait...'

"We should probably check where the explosion came from and try to reduce the number of casualties by getting all the really badly injured to the infirmary." he rose his head and could see the smoke trail from the hallway.

"Isn't that Mr. Russel's classroom?" Evan pointed, and within a brief moment appeared in the doorway as a silhouette behind the smoke. "Hey is ev-"

"Mr. Russell...It's nice to meet you. Now, if I may, I will be killing your brother."

"Kill...oh shi-" he muttered, placing his hand over his mouth and keeping David at arms length, behind him. He peeked around the open door way a second time, clearly able to see a "suit" David had literally just mentioned a few moments ago. He turned to him with a whisper. "Ok David, I believe you now...apparently that stranger in a suit is bent on killing Mr. Russell's brother Chris, got any suggestions? No time to doddle with this, we need a solution and fast."
 

Argenteus

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"Chris?"
It was a simply name out of Mr. Russel's mouth, and yet it signified an abrupt change in Crate's life. He swiveled around to see Chris walk into the room, and time it's self distort. At first, time froze, and skipped into updated form in a series of frames. Then it stopped completely, except it seemed for the others in the room besides Chris. So they noticed the previous time skip and this one. And apparently, Mr. Russel knew what was causing it.

An earth shaking explosion was felt. "It's nice to meet you. Now, if I may, I will be killing your brother." he heard an unknown man say.

No... he thought. I can't let them...


But... he felt weak. Crate looked down to see a large shard of glass had pierced his chest. He could now feel it, it was deep within him. It had punctured his heart. Blood was spilling all over his chest, and onto the floor. His shirt was soaked.

"Agh!" he moaned. "Mr... Russel...

It seemed so strange, that now he should meet his death. Right now, right HERE. He had envisioned his entire future so many ways, planned grand things for his life. He had changed, become nicer to others and grown to love life. Everyone told him that he had a great future ahead of him. So much for that, all that awaited him was more pain until his death.

This lead him to memory of his conversation with Ms. Chase earlier today. "I guess all we can really do about it is to survive today, huh?". It was so ironic, that he was about to fail on his part just minutes after that conversation, though he guessed it was probably a few hours for her. Was the earth and all of humankind about to end as well?

It was so pitiful that his body couldn't heal this. He could see exactly what would be required to do so, why couldn't his body initiate the response? Because it's not good for evolution for any one organism to live forever. He though bitterly. How he'd like to spit in evolution's face for that little fact.
 

Kazem

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David's injury healing up was finally noticed around the same time Evan held him back from the doorway. He also noticed how violently shaking he was, and then the full reality actually hit him. His senses went haywire, and his legs almost folded into themselves under the stress. He caught himself on the wall and felt his heartbeat resound throughout his entire body, an intense tingling sensation popping up in random places in his body, and his eyes closed almost on instinct from the overload of input and output for his brain. What's happening? My heart...my hands. I can't close them. Why am I so calm? I feel like I'm about to fall apart, but it feels...fine. There's no panic, it's only in my body. David slowed down his breathing, his heart slowed down into a reasonable pace,and the pulse died down, but remained more noticeable than normal.

When his eyes opened again, they held the same look as every other day. Seeing the look on Evan's face, David nodded and gestured hat he was fine. Whispering to Evan, David felt a build-up of what he could only describe as an urge in his right hand. "We could ditch Chris, but I know that isn't a real option. So that leaves grabbing Chris and booking it, taking out the Suit, one of us distracting him while Chris gets away, or a combination of those. Pick one or some, and on your three we'll go. I suggest taking a last peek before we do anything else though, to make sure there isn't another bomb or something in there. We can't save Chris if we spook the guy and he decides to turn us all into stains or ashes under the rubble of what's left of the building."

David took a moment to shake his hand out to try and get rid of whatever urge was building up, and opened up his eyes wide when the dust on the ground blew up into a cloud, swirling around violently. This wouldn't normally be a surprise for David, but the entire length of ground right of him had this effect, something simply shaking his hand would definitely not cause. He tried it again with a flick of his hand, and the same event occurred, the dust in the air being dispersed rapidly. "Hey, did you see that? I think I can blind the suit when we decide what to do. I don't know how, but I think I can do it again. If you didn't see that, and if my arm isn't now healed, then I think I'm quickly going insane. Let me know which so I know if I should prepare for rushing into the room, or for wearing a straight jacket after this hallucination is over."

David's body was buzzing, literally, moving quickly back-and-forth, his outline being blurred, but at this point he chose to ignore anything weird happening until his delusions were either confirmed or put to rest. He wouldn't shift eye contact even if a unicorn suddenly came dashing down the hall farting rainbows and called him Papa.
 
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Argenteus

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More blood poured out of his wound, and Crate began to feel tension dissipate just a bit. It wasn't as if he'd stopped caring about his death, he just didn't feel like he had the energy to fight it any more.

He could just see what his body would need to do to save it as well. First the glass would need to be removed, which could be accomplished through systematic working of the body's abdominal muscles. Blood would need to clot at the actual entry wound, and scar tissue would need to form, eventually fading it's self.

Meanwhile, inside, new heart cells could be grown using much the same process they normally grew with. They were all replaced every so often anyway, and cells were constantly growing and dying. When the heart was mended sufficiently to be usable, it's beating could be forcibly resumed.

He had some difficulty breathing too, but the lungs probably had only mild punctures, the glass didn't embed it's self so far in there. His body would need to heal that much as it would the heart, and then eject all the blood that had built up in it into his throat and out his mouth.

As if on queue, he coughed up a bit of blood. But that was just coincidence, he would be coughing blood now anyways.

Even as he knew all this, there was nothing he could do.

But a thought returned to his mind: I must protect Chris. I know he's important.
 
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Now sitting among fellow students that belonged to the 'experienced a time jump' club, Shizuka found herself becoming fairly comfortable. Strange things had happened, and she was sure more strange things were on the way. However she is a malleable human being, and as long as she can confirm the reality of a situation she is content with accepting 'strange' things. So right now, even though David and Evan were discussing whether or not the men in black suits around town were out to get them, she was copacetic. Friends were a nice thing to have, a fact that she lived by every moment of her life. Just minutes ago she was feeling down simply because she was alone, just the thought of having to go through these odd events alone was terrifying. She eased her legs, stretching and laying her head in her hands upon the table. "Those men in suits? I simply thought they were salerymen who enjoyed taking their breaks in odd locations... Huh, it's weird now that I think about it." Shizuka commented, her mind now wandering onto this subject. The suits all around town were indeed rather off putting, in a way just the fact that they were in a 'uniform' was what made it chilling. Suits implied that they were working for some form of organization, and that opened up the flood gates of natural curiosity and paranoia.

Still, it was something Shizuka was willing to forget about, but things had a way of turning pear shaped at just the most fitting times. A loud boom could be heard as an explosion went off somewhere in the school, rattling it's foundation and panicking everyone inside. One of those panicked people was her, however she didn't run about like many others did. She did not turn into a deer in the headlights either however, instead she was struggling to figure out how to react to the ensuing chaos. Her lips quivered, and her heart began to pound like an orchestra of tribal drums, yet for all of the things going on inside her mind she appeared fairly calm all things considered. The sound of glass shattering violently was heard from above. Shizuka gasped and prepared to duck, however the glass never reached her, it was somehow being diverted away from the three of them. More oddities on top of strangites. David sprung to action quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. This was all well and good, but she was no rescue worker, she didn't know the first thing about emergency care. David ran off, and Evan, who she had just now noticed was fairly calm, followed after him.

Shizuka gave chase as well, trying not to bump into any frantic students. "David!" She screamed out as a piece of debris narrowly missed severely injuring him. She and Evan caught up to him, and Evan voiced what was on her mind. "He's right David, you shouldn't just run off like... that..." Her voiced trailed off as she noticed David's wound close up, she looked to the healed region, and then to Evan. "That's amazing..." She whispered to herself, believing now that it was him that had protected them from the glass. She listened to what he said about getting people to the infirmary, a plausibly good plan if they could even manage to keep themselves safe. The plan was quickly put on the backburner however as Evan noticed the source of the explosion, as he commented it was in fact Mr. Russell's classroom. As they moved closer a voice could be heard from within, though Evan was the one that picked up on it and checked on what was happening inside. Something startled him, as he covered his own mouth and warned her and David to stay back. He filled them in as to what was happening inside, Chris was about to be killed.

David once again jumped to the occasion to voice his ideas, though what really stood out was his display of what looked like a telekinetic ability. Shizuka had to shield her eyes from the spiraling dust, a reaction which was inherent and David showed that he knew of. With such an ability they could indeed distract the man in the suit, though for how long? She found herself not caring much about that, she just wanted to help Chris as soon as possible. "Do it now, we can't sit here discussing it forever!" Shizuka found herself becoming frantic, she didn't want to see anyone she knew die. Her feet kicked into action and she sprinted into the room. "Oh god..." She stopped in her tracks as her eyes went right to Crate. He was hurt bad, a shard of glass had embedded into his chest and blood was flowing from his mouth. A sense of fear and anger hit Shizuka, and her gaze fell on the suited man. "Who are you, why are you doing this!?"

 

Cassette-Disk

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Chase was on the floor. She wasn't sure why or how, but she remembered some loud sound coming from somewhere. Then there was screaming. She was on her way out of campus in order to go to a nearby cafe, but it looked like she was going to be stuck here. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings, but when she did, she realized how bad things were. Chase had at first thought that maybe something had run into her, but with everybody running around like crazed chickens, and with shrapnel scattering the campus, it was safe to assume an explosive had gone off. Wait, weren't there codes for this kind of thing? Like, everyone was supposed to remain calm and line up at the P.E. area? But then again, what good would that do? If this was some kind of terrorist attack, then of course they would line up bombs or something in the P.E. area as well to do as much damage to others as possible.

Chase slowly stood up, taking the hand someone had offered her. Her head hurt. A simple touch to her forehead revealed that she had received a nasty scratch, and that a small streak of blood had leaked out. It wasn't enough to freak her out, but it was just enough to throw her usual passive self in the backseat and to place a more assertive one as the driver.
"I'm fine," She assured whoever had helped her up. "Get everyone to safety, I'm part of the staff. I know what I'm doing." The truth was, she had no idea what she was doing. But she couldn't just say that as she was bleeding. Then her legs began to move. She ran in the direction everyone was fleeing from, and she wasn't sure why. It was stupid, she should be leaving with everyone else, who knows what else was waiting where the explosion went off. Still, her legs pumped on without her consent.
 

Orion

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Liora felt the explosion about the same time she heard it - an expanding wave of increased pressure that moved around and through her, flaring her hair and dress out behind her. It came from the direction of the school, but Liora couldn't be totally certain. As a pillar of smoke began rising almost immediately after, she nevertheless she felt her mind gearing up, neurons firing with increased rapidity, the world going sharper around her as her senses refined.

From outside, it looked like she took a single, massive step forward - her right leg elongating in front of the rest of her body, which soon followed - and then she was off. A blur moving faster than a bullet, but that left nothing in her wake, not a sonic boom nor a single misplaced breeze, such was space curved around her as she moved at a hard sprint. It was uncomfortable in her Mary Janes, but she supposed she was lucky - better to cover the distance between Belhor's alley and school in two dozen steps than two thousand.

She zipped through the hallways, spiralling up a stairwell without her feet touching the ground, and could see that the explosion had ripped a hole through the roof. It's curved, ragged edges gave her an idea of its epicenter, and with all the unusual goings-on of the day, she wouldn't be surprised if there was someone waiting for either the target, first responders to the scene, or both. So she chose another route.

When the roof opened up above her, she turned a simple jump into a twenty-metre leap, allowing her to survey the damage. Immediately she noticed students sprawled on the ground, but even more chilling was the presence of a Suit, whom Liora immediately deemed suspect if not hostile. Already in the air, she realised she had a way to potentially incapacitate him and let the others escape or better tend to themselves. When she was ready to hit the ground with such force it would break her legs, she diverted space around her, turning a linear path into a vertically-oriented u-turn that then threw her up nearly as high as she had been when she started falling. A little bit of warping and she turned that leap into nearly two hundred metres, and began to free-fall, something she had been practicing recently as her powers blossomed.

This time when she was ready to be mashed to bits on the floor, she redirected herself horizontally at the Suit. She didn't know if he had or lacked powers of his own, but she was already too far-gone in turning two hundred metres of freefall into a tackle. Without tearing apart any tissue in her body - though making her very sore in recovery - she could expand her own body to spread out the impact that she felt, while the same momentum was delivered to the Suit.

She closed her eyes at the last second as she briefly jumped out of her little bubble of warped space, a blur that wasn't there before now rushing straight at the Suit's side.
 

Endless Warrior Sora

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Devon lurched forward, losing his balance as a large explosion shook the entire school it seemed. Adrenaline began to course through the teenager's entire body. Screams began to shriek from the cafeteria as people hbegan to chatter very loudly and run, pushing past Devon's thin frame. He looked behind him as some students were aready rushing to the scene. It didn't take long for Devon to fall victim to the psychological peer pressure. They were going to go help. He might not be much help, but he wasn't going to run. What would Batman do? Batman wouldn't let innocent people get hurt. Neither would Blue Beetle. Dropping his backpack, he ran using just his legs, using his hands to hold onto the camera strapped around his neck. What was he doing? Running toward danger? What was going on? Was this a terrorist attack? Why would they target Pleasington of all the places in the world? That didn't make sense. But as a photographer...he felt obligated to take pictures as proof. This was foolish. This was stupid. He could be killed. Yet he kept running. He noticed three older students at the doorway to the classroom and reached them, out of breath.

"Um...do...you guys...know what's going on?" He said, before peering into the room, and holding his Canon toward the classroom and snapping a quick picture before retreating back into the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Her ears rang. She couldn't hear anything. Hua was somehow on the floor looking up at the ceiling of the classroom that was know dark and filled with smoke, glass and debris. She was scared. So very scared. The bottom left of her frail frame had been covered with debris some particularly too heavy for her to lift. In other words, she was trapped. Hua looked to her right and saw Mr. Russell there, seemingly the one who had practically saved her life. Chris was there too. She began to hyperventilate. She didn't very much like danger. Or the fact that her leg was bleeding under the rubble that scraped against her skin.

"M-M-M- Mi.." She began trying to say Mr. Russell. She was entirely too frightened to speak. She lifted her head to look at her surroundings and she couldn't see anything at all. Looking to her right, she saw Crate, another student with her with a large piece of glass protruding from her chest.
"Oh my God....Oh my God oh my God oh my God..." The words formulated themselves before she even noticed she had said them.
Hua did what any scared high school teenager would do. She screamed. As loud as she could.

"HELP!! SOMEONE PLEASE ANYONE! I DON'T WANNA DIE!" She began to shift her thin body to get herself out from under the rubble and tensed up in pain before letting a small moan of pain escape her lips. Her surroundings became monochromatic as images began to play before her now glowing yellow eyes. The room was whole again, and Chris ran into the room, then Mr. Russell pushed a chair underneath Chris, and threw himself against herself and Crate, confirming her hypothesis that he indeed saved their lives. The rubble fell from the wall onto her helpless body. The glass impaling Crate as he was falling from Mr. Russell's tackle. And a figure in a Suit, behind the smoke. Was this...what had just happened? Was she seeing the past? Was that possible? She might've been hallucinating. It scared Hua even more.
 

OmniChaos

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Michael rose from the debris, shaking off the dust and pushing the wood off of his legs. His neck felt strangely warm, and he felt a small something or other run down his back. Michael reached around to investigate, and when he withdrew, he found his right hand coated with blood. Then, a stinging pain struck the back of his head, which screamed in pain when Michael softly touched it. He had gotten a nasty scratch, but it was nothing more than that.

"You bastard," Michael growled, clinching his hand into a fist. He started off in a run, stumbling twice over debris, and raised his fist to the man in black. The agent tilted his head to the left, and smiled at the sight. At the last moment, Michael uncurled his fingers and grabbed the agent's face—he felt the agent's nose break beneath his palm. Michael smiled. "I think you'll prove useful yet. Any pawn can become a queen."

Michael began whispering at a quick rate, his lips pouring out soundless-syllables. He began imprinting his will upon the agent, growing and infecting, and tightened his grip on the man's face. The agent reached up and grabbed Michael by the throat, which caused Michael to squeeze out the last few syllables with a gag. The agent lifted Michael from the floor, and pulled his hand from his face with his free hand. His face was painted red with his and Michael's blood, and his nose was bent back and to the right. The agent's smile had been removed, replaced by a furious scowl.

"Mr. Russell," the man growled through clinched teeth. "You're quite the persistent man, aren't you?" He wiped a trickle of blood running down his face, and turned his hand to look at it. "But it won't be enough. Your brother will die. It is his fate."

The agent threw Michael back toward the door with great strength, sending him into the hallway wall. Michael let out a cry of pain as an impaled piece of wooden debris tore through his right side. He looked down, his hands shaking just above the bloody end of the wood that punctured through his right side. He threw his head back and let out a cry.

"Go!" he screamed, cringing in pain. "Go you three! Get Chris out of here! Now!"

~*~

Chris saw the body of his brother fly overhead, and when he released a cry of pain, Chris turned to find his brother impaled upon a piece of debris. He jumped up, a piece of glass cracking under heel, and ran to his brother, who now noticed was actually embedded slightly into the wall. Chris grabbed Michael's shoulders, which spurred a cry of pain from his brother. "Michael, Michael!" he cried, looking up and down his brother's body. "Come on! We need to do something! We gotta get out of here!"

"You aren't going anywhere, Mr. Russell." Chris turned to the man, who stood calmly with his hands behind his back. The agent reached into his pocket and withdrew a small magnum. "It is time to die, Mr. Russell. You must be set free from your prison. Goodbye."

Chris started to close his eyes, but before they were past a squint, he opened them at the sight of someone flying at them from the sky. The agent noticed the boy's attention drawn behind him and turned just in time to see the person—who was actually Liora, though Chris did not know it—fly up. When she did, a giant force struck the agent, sending him down through the floor to the base level of the building, leaving a giant hole in the floor. It continued on, pushing the agent through the wall of the lower room and into the brick wall around the school, which, from the force of the impact, collapsed upon him.

"Michael," he cried, shaking his brother. Michael's body had gone limp, his entire right side soaked in blood. His hair was now matted with blood dripping from a clumped strand, and a trickle ran from his mouth. "Michael. Michael!" Chris's eyes welled with tears as he shook his brother's lifeless body. "No! Please! Don't die! You can't die!"

Chris threw his hands to his head, clamping onto it hard. He shook his head, rejecting the reality of the situation. "No," he denied, tears rolling down his cheeks. "No, it's just a dream. It's just a dream." Chris threw his head back and let out a scream. "It's just a dream!"

~*~

Chris woke up.

~*~

But it wasn't just a dream, as Chris believed it. It did happen. The agent had attacked. He had destroyed much of the school. Michael had died. Had. Past tense. For you see, those events had been erased by Chris's will. The attack was erased. The death was erased. It was as if it had never happened. But it had, and those who had experienced it know it all too well.
 

Endless Warrior Sora

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Hua could see Mr. Russell, get up next to her and jump over her to attack that figure in the smoke. She began trying to physically lift the stones from her leg, which felt like it might've been broken. Her frail arms however, failed to lift the rocks and she squirmed and tried to wriggle her way free, breathing very heavily. She heard voices from among the smoke and saw a figure soar above her and into the hallway outside followed by a crash and a very disheartening sound. This prompted her to release another scream, as she knew that that figure wasn't that of the man in the smoke. She heard movement above him as it trailed off into the hallway.

"Come on! We need to do something! We gotta get out of here!"

He had left her. Chris had left her and Crate in this room to be murdered by this psychopath. Hua's heart had sunk. She wasn't exactly friends with Chris, but still...

"No! Please! Don't die! You can't die!"

She understood. His brother was just thrown by this psychopath, and he was going to die...what if she was next? What about Crate. She extended an arm to her schoolmate, maybe it was shock. Maybe it was fear. But in the end everyone needed someone. She closed her tear-soaked eyes as tightly as possible and did the only thing she could think to do.

She screamed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"NO I DON'T WANNA DIE! PLEASE SOMEONE ANYONE! HELP!!" The shouting would continue in the small room until Hua's mother burst through the door, and crouched onto the floor where her daughter lay literally kicking and screaming. Her eyes opened, revealing a fright that she has never experienced and her mother had never seen before. It was as if her mother was a stranger and all she knew was fear. She looked through her mother for a few, intense, horrifying moments before blinking and trying to return her breathing normal.

"Méiguānxì, méiguānxì. Nǐ zhǐshì zuòle yīgè è mèng, wǒ qīn'ài de. Zhè shì yīgè kě pà de, kě pà de èmèng." Her mother tried to soothe her anxiety as she echoed these words to the teenager, stroking her long, black, sweat soaked hair.

"No, no, Mama, it was real. It was...h-how did I get back home? Did I pass out? Did the ambulance take me here?" Hua breathed, shakily. English? It was definitely uncharacteristic for her to speak to her mother in English. She must've been more disoriented than she thought. She sat upright, and moved thin, damp strands of hair away from her face. What day was it? Had it been the next day?

"N-no, dear. The ambulance did not bring you. You have been in bed. You just started screaming in the middle of night... You woke your father and I. We were...very worried." Her mother said gently, speaking her best English. Her mother had gotten better at it. Hua looked up and saw her father in the doorway, only a shadow illuminated by the light in the previous room. She could tell from his body posture, he was worried...and probably a little upset.

Hua stared at the floor directly in front of her. This didn't make sense. She knew for a fact that she was at school. She was a TA for Mr. Russell, who told her that his brother had been the cause of strange stuff going around at school. And then...she was on the floor. And Crate....and then she actually saw what happened. The world went black and white and she could see the wall explode and the teacher murdering man in the suit and....being left to die...and...how could that have all possibly been a dream? She was screaming for her life. how embarrassing. Part of her wished it was a dream now. That was pathetic. Her eyes shifted slightly as she tried to make sense of it all. She had never felt so...mortal. Usually teenagers have this idea that they have their whole lives to live...she had almost just watched her end. Hadn't she?

"Duìbùqǐ, māmā. Zhè... Zhè shì yīgè kě pà de èmèng." She said weakly, her voice shaking. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself. They were probably already furious with her.

"Nǐ hái hǎo ma? Zhíxíng-" Her mother started.

"Hǎo ba, māmā. Zhēn de. Wǒ zhēn de hěn xǐhuan xiànzài dúzì yīrén, qǐng. Nín dōu jiāng shì chídàole." Hua interrupted,looking to her mother and attempting her best closed mouth fake smile she could muster. Her mother mirrored that fake smile with one of her own and nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Hua stood, and slowly walked around, tentatively checking if any of her injuries were sustained. She felt fine. Her leg wasn't bleeding. It didn't feel as excruciating as it did about 10 minutes ago. Whatever that means anymore. She sat on her mattress and lifted her leg to visibly check. Nothing. Not even a scab. She was definitely perplexed. She might've been going insane. That could have definitely been a valid explanation to everything she's experiencing. Maybe she was just insane, and delusional and had sever hallucinations. Had she had any drugs recently?

She needed to tell her mind to shut up. She needed proof it existed. Proof that she wasn't insane. She wiped cooling sweat from her forehead with her forearm, dragging it across her head slowly. It was slightly soothing. The only thing that felt real recently. Shuffling toward her closet, she debated whether or not she should even attend school today. That was the source of all her problems. But it could've been the source of her answers as well. If she found the destroyed classroom, that would be proof that it existed. But in the end...would that have been a good thing?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Devon heard commotion from inside the room and turned the two other students.

"Guys, I think somethin's goin down in there. Shouldn't we...ah...I dunno...help?" He asked them, insecurely, hoping they wouldn't berate him from suggesting such a rash action. Before any of them could respond however, Mr. Russell's body flew right past them, and directly through a piece of wooden debris, impaling him before the teenagers eyes. Devon's eyes widened, revealing his green orbs for eyes as he took some steps to the teacher, taking in the gruesome sight of the teacher skewered by the wood. His stomach dropped as he ingested the horrifying cry Mr. Russell had released and cringed. Putting his hands over his mouth he began to step to the teacher a bit faster toward him. Just what was going on in there?

"HOLY SHI- MR. RUSSELL, HOLD ON, I'LL-" He said, intending to help him somehow....anyhow.

"Go! Go you three! Get Chris out of here! Now!"

Devon looked incredelously at the teacher. What and leave him there to bleed to death? He wanted to help. He wouldn't leave without him.

"Michael, Michael!"

Chris had ran out to tend to his brother. "Chris!" Devon said, for some reason. Of course it was Chris. Chris probably didn't know who he was, but that was definitely not something to worry about at the moment. Soon, Mr. Russell's body went limp, and Devon edged closer to Chris, intending to grab him so they could run like Mr. Russell asked, but he didn't want to get punched in the face or anything. Besides...he froze up. He was in near proximity to a dead body. He studied the situation and couldn't accept it's reality. A man was dead. A man he had known. A man who was alive no more than 5 minutes ago. A man who literally died in front of him. A man who had family, who smiled, laughed, had dreams, emotions. Whose last words...were to get his brother to safety.

Devon would not fail that at least.

"Chris, c'mon! Let's go NOW!" He said, tugging on the sleeve of the teen.

"No, it's just a dream. It's just a dream. It's just a dream!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Devon shot up in his room, his surroundings momentarily unfamiliar. Breathing heavily, his head jolted back and forth. He was in his room. Instinctively his hands fell to his chest, and he began to pat his chest frantically. His camera! Where was his camera?! He looked over to his bedside drawer and there it was...where he usually put it. Weird. He didn't remember being knocked unconscious. His mind immediately went to the image of Mr. Russell's body at the end of that piece of wood and he shuddered at the thought. He tried to breathe deeply to calm his nauseous stomach. His eyebrows wrinkled as he tried to assess what happened. Mr.Russell died, and told them to get Chris to safety, who was mourning the loss of his brother and then....and then...he was in bed? Was it a dream? It couldn't have been. It felt so real. He had seen a man die before him. He wasn't just going to up and forget that. He looked to his camera. He had taken a picture of the room! He grabbed it by the neckstring and pressed the power button.The device beeped as the title screen greeted the teenager before going into "Portrait Mode" and showing him his covers. He switched it to "Playback Mode", and Devon's stomach dropped. The camera told him that he had taken no new pictures. That didn't make sense. He had taken so many during the course of the day, how could that be empty?

"What the hell is goin on..." He muttered, before getting out of bed, getting ready for school and walking into the kitchen where his mother was.

"Momma. You hear about what happened at the school?" He said, playing with the focus setting on the camera, turning it back and forth to occupy his hands.

"No baby, what happened at the school?" His mother, a lean woman with black (but graying) dreadlocks, wearing an all pink ensemble of a running outfit replied to him.

"I don't even know myself. There was some kinda explosion or somethin, and a teacher died!" He said to her as she raised an eyebrow at him, noting her disbelief. Devon studied his mother's facial expression, and realized he might need to enroll in an institution.

"Baby. I know you like to read them damn comic books all the time, but it didn't say nothin in the paper about no explosion." She said, crossing a leg and looking at him. Devon could see an open paper on the coffee table behind her and knew this would be a discussion he would not only lose, but one that would probably leave him homeless.

"...Forget I said anything." Devon said lightly, before heading out of his door as quickly as possible.
 
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Argenteus

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As he bled out, coughing up blood, Crate felt a shaky, reassuring touch, perhaps trying to comfort him as he faced death. Screams filled his ears, though his senses were quickly fading. Even the pain had become remote.

So this was what it was like to die.

Mr. Russel had fallen too. He had done... something to try and save Chris, but it hadn't been enough. Mr. Russel was dying, Chris was dying, and Crate was dying. It seemed so statistical, so matter-of-fact, and yet it felt so wrong.

"It's just a dream!" he heard Chris shout. How he wished it were so...


---------

DAWN OF THE FIRST DAY

72 HOURS REMAIN

---------

Crate woke up, lying in his bed. Immediately he knew something was off, there was no way an ambulance could have gotten there in time. And furthermore, with his wounds he would still have been in the hospital. So either he was dead (unlikely) or... what? Could it really have been a dream? Had Chris done something? If Mr. Russel was to be believed with the time skip, that might have been entirely within his capabilities.

A bit of belated panic began to set in from the experience. Was he going to develop PTSD later? What did that matter, he had come very near death before waking up in his house. That was no dream, the pain was too real, the detail too great. He didn't always know he was dreaming during the dream, but never had he had a dream where he didn't know it from reality after the fact.

Crate followed his normal routine to the letter, to the point of mimicking perfectly tone of voice and route to school. He supposed he would need to checkout his new book again. Digging into his messenger bag, he did indeed find the old book in it rather than the new.

Everything was ordinary. Everything was normal. Nothing was wrong.
 

Ðari

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Beyond the Final Destination
Evan was paying attention, though his eyes were in the room and he was strangely relaxed in this situation. As a result, his strange sensations were minimized, perhaps so refined, it stopped right at arms length so David wouldn't feel "weird" as an immediate response. He kept a close arm to the door, footsteps that picked up as his head peaked around the classroom door obscurely once again. The grunting of Mr. Russel, with the inclusion of a student that was loosing blood with each passing second.

"We'll have to settle for a snatch and grab...wait." Evan paused, as Mr. Russel began to move and he appeared rather aggressive. "David, it looks like Mr. Russell's ok, lets wait just a moment more.."

Evan was rather shocked at what he'd observed next, "David. Shizuka, check out Mr. Russell. What is he-" he stopped mid sentence as Mr. Russell was in utterance of something. The suit's reaction was trite, convulsive, he'd been experiencing pain, as if he were being hexed. Evan's eyes widened, his composure finally penetrated as the way the suit reacted and Mr. Russel's newfound confidence proved deadly. With seconds, he was tossed into the hallway and called for his alumni to aid Chris.

"Not without you sir." Evan said, fairly timid, but bracing himself to gander into the room. This time, like a falling star almost there was yet another impact, which threatened the suit this time. Raising his arms, he could feel it, Chris brushing past him out of the doorway. Looking down, Evan's eyes were open wide now looking at the suit and a feint silhouette of a female, almost...as if he'd passed her earlier. Looking behind him, he was beginning to have a panic attack finally. His blanket was irritated immensely and he clutched his head, it was growing stronger and he couldn't contain it.

"Tell me I'm dreaming..."

In an instant, thats all it took.

He could see it again, just as it happened before. In a flash of light space and time were hammering against him, the effect was even wider this time. Aleviating the continuum of the explosion, Mr. Russel and the other student's fatal casualties, and even the bizarre phenomenon from earlier that day. All at once, then it went black.

~~~

"Master Norwald..."

The feint sound of a voice tickled his ear, but, was this too a dream.

"Master Norwald."

The sound of a silver spoon tapping a glass, alerted Evan to full attention.

"Huh...Vladimir?" the youth looked confused, as he looked at his butler as if he were in the orphanage all those years ago.

"Your breakfast is getting cold, are you going to stare remorsefully upon it young master?"

"Oh...naturally no, where are my manners. My apologies Vladimir, have a seat and join me."

At the dining room table, the oddest of places to wake up in the aftermath of...well he couldn't define it in anyway. Truthfully, this isn't the first time something like this has happened and that much is certain. Evan, has only been an occupant resident of this town for a year roughly. Things, like him, were not normal around here. Men in suits constant surveillance, Mr. Russell's bizarre incantation and David's stroking the air? He just gaped even deeper at his plate, a frown of concern seemed to occupy his disposition. Vladimir wouldn't be fooled, a proper scolding seemed necessary.

"Something the matter young master?"

"Vladimir...was there any news about Jefferson High yesterday?" Evan posed a question.

"Not that I recall." Vladimir thought for a moment, "Oh, of course."

Evan turned his full attention to him.

"Jefferson High's PTA appeared on the news doing a fundraiser through The National Honors Society today. Beyond that, nothing eventful."

'Damnit...I'm starting to think this is only happening to me, David, and Shizuka...why the hell do I remember this if there isn't even news...maybe it hasn't happened yet...I don't know.'

He then stared at the calendar, it was morning and he trembled. The day did not change...

"vas ist das..."
 
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Kazem

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Quite a few things happened. Devon suddenly joined the group outside the door, Shizuka rushed inside of the classroom, and then Mr. Russel was impaled fatally. Blood. So much blood.You didn't need a degree to see that he wasn't going to make it. Chris ran out and went to his brother, voice desperate and shock still painting his face as unbelieving. There was a few noises from inside the room, but the focus was on Chris, shaking his brother's lifeless body. Devon went over to try and pull the teen away when Chris broke, not accepting the outcome. And then a miracle happened, and David was back inside of his room, staring at the clock.

5:58am.

The eight changed into a nine, and David counted the flashing dots of the seconds going by until a single moment before the alarm went off. His hand froze over the sleep button, and his heart pounded as he read the date. He silenced the alarm and checked his watch, phone and ipod, all three reading the same date. Memories started to trickle into his mind as he quickly dressed and rushed downstairs to the kitchen. The same amount of milk, cereal, everything. Everything...moved backwards? We moved back in time? Or was it a dream? It... it had to have been a dream. That's it, no one died, no time travel, just a silly dream. Too much dairy last night, that's all.

But he felt off. He felt... things. He saw things. Things transparent, traces of waves, buzzing, blurring, growing, colliding. He raised his hand from the bowl of cereal he had poured and examined it, traces leaving his hand every so often. With his other hand, he took his pulse, and confirmed with stunning accuracy and clarity that it was indeed his blood pumping that caused the traces to appear. He tapped his finger onto his thumb, and the wispy shapes spread outward. His heart beat faster, and his head felt dizzy, his lungs screaming.

He took a breath, the shock of the discovery making him not notice his own breath was held in awe. He quickly downed the cereal, woke his brother and got the usual hygiene out of the way before secluding himself in his bedroom until it was time to leave. It couldn't have, I can't possibly, the Suit- no! I remember it too clearly, Evan, my cut, the buzzing, Mr. Russel, Chris. It had to happen. It's impossible, but it all happened. But it didn't, here I am before it.

David let out a shaky breath and centered himself. Looking around, he didn't see the weird shapes and waves anymore, but that changed when his eyes slightly unfocused and they all reappeared. Focusing his eyes, the vision went away, with only the biggest disturbances in the air and objects around him noticeable. I can see, what? Air? Energy? Vibration? But there's no wa-

He was reminded of what had just happened/not happened, and gave up on trying to understand it for the moment. The whole situation gave him a headache and he would probably need a pass to get out of orchestra for the day. I'm definitely going to have a talk with Evan and Shizuka about the today that wasn't. This would probably make an interesting book if I wrote about it, maybe I'll give it a whirl in a few days or years.
 
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