“What’s happening to him?” Isabella was holding Walker’s hand as it lay motionless.
Wolf had an extremely disturbed look on his face, “this can’t be happening…” He turned around to the old man behind him, “can it?”
The man remained on his feet, in an almost calm-like state, “this young man seems to be experiencing a recall,” he had a broken voice, quite deep even for his age. He had short hair, a rough gray color. He had apparent signs of aging, but looked relatively quite fit for a man of his state.
“A recall?” Isabella looked at the old man.
“His mind is tapping into his past,” he walked over to Walker’s side. He placed his palm over Walker’s chest, hovering over him. “This can be seen when the victim of such an incident is in a dead-like state.”
“But what the hell is going through him from the past that could possibly do such a thing to him?”
“A recall can only occur if the victim has experienced something he has been thinking about heavily, possibly cause of guilt, hurt, or brokenness,” Wolf explained. “Walker is tapping into what some people refer to as ‘the fantasy of darkness’. He is experiencing a moment in his life that has been altered by the darkness, in an attempt to destroy his mind, and eventually, him.”
“But only such things can happen within a special blood, one of a special breed you might call,” The old man stood up from his crouch.
“But Walker is human! How could he be experiencing this?” Isabella was deeply confused. As she watched her brother fall into the darkness.
The three stood silent, having no power over what will happen to Walker now.
“Where am I?” Walker could not see a thing, almost as if he were blind. He then saw a great beam of light, blinding him temporarily.
“Congratulations, Private Walker, on behalf of the Imperial Arcadian Forces, I gladly present you with the medal of excellence, a great honor indeed.” Walker stood in silence as he was watching a movie of his past.
“What the hell is this?” Walker then realized he could not speak, but only think out his words. “What the heck is happening to me?!” He was the audience to the play, the actors, ignoring Walker as if he wasn’t there.
“It has been an honor sir,” his image played out the script. Suddenly a shadowed figure appeared behind his image. He carried a dagger, about to kill Walker’s image.
Walker stood in confusion, but reacted instantly in fear, “No! You can’t!” He threw himself in front of the cloaked assassin. The figure evaded Walker, dropping his dagger on the ground. He turned to Walker, and drew his katana from his belt. Walker was in fear, “What the hell do I do now?!” He stepped back, tripping over an object of some sort. It was the same katana he found in the hidden cellar. He brought himself up his feet, the blade in his right hand, ready to engage in melee with the unknown force. “How do I even use this?!” Walker swung the blade at the assailant, he missed by a scratch. The figure then struck back, clashing with Walker’s block by the blade. They were caught in a deadlock. Walker struggled to gain a lead, and eventually broke the clash in his favor. The intruder fell to the ground, dropping his blade several feet away. Walker returned to his guarding stance, ready for the next move. “How the hell did I just do that?!” He was in deep confusion, but saw the opportunity. He lanced the blade into the shadowed figure. It let out a violent scream, before finally settling into its defeat. Walker stepped back, looking at the image of him. He was shaking hands with his fellow officers. The play then torn apart into darkness, enveloping Walker into a scenery of nothing.
“He’s breathing! He’s alive!” Isabella let out a joyful cry of relief.
“Impossible!” The old man dropped staff to the ground, unable to find the correct emotion of his face to express his deep surprise.
Wolf lunged himself over to Walker’s side, placing his hand on Walker’s wrist. “Heart rate is returning to normal, breathing is correcting, it’s a miracle!”
Walker finally opened his eyes to the world around him, several faces around him with the same expression of joy and happiness of a certain déjà vu.
Timothy Tang
17
Rockdige Secondery
Jan 13th 1992
[[ The Wishlist ]]
I could use a new set of headphones...
More guitars?
Maybe a grand piano...
and the will power to write my books
If only life was a fantasy story...
A weekend away with my extended family perhaps? (You know who you are) (^_^)
Fantasy of Darkness (A book project of mine)
Da creater
[[ Don't talk crap, it's ****ng rude ]]
“What’s happening to him?” Isabella was holding Walker’s hand as it lay motionless.
Wolf had an extremely disturbed look on his face, “this can’t be happening…” He turned around to the old man behind him, “can it?”
The man remained on his feet, in an almost calm-like state, “this young man seems to be experiencing a recall,” he had a broken voice, quite deep even for his age. He had short hair, a rough gray color. He had apparent signs of aging, but looked relatively quite fit for a man of his state.
“A recall?” Isabella looked at the old man.
“His mind is tapping into his past,” he walked over to Walker’s side. He placed his palm over Walker’s chest, hovering over him. “This can be seen when the victim of such an incident is in a dead-like state.”
“But what the hell is going through him from the past that could possibly do such a thing to him?”
“A recall can only occur if the victim has experienced something he has been thinking about heavily, possibly cause of guilt, hurt, or brokenness,” Wolf explained. “Walker is tapping into what some people refer to as ‘the fantasy of darkness’. He is experiencing a moment in his life that has been altered by the darkness, in an attempt to destroy his mind, and eventually, him.”
“But only such things can happen within a special blood, one of a special breed you might call,” The old man stood up from his crouch.
“But Walker is human! How could he be experiencing this?” Isabella was deeply confused. As she watched her brother fall into the darkness.
The three stood silent, having no power over what will happen to Walker now.
“Where am I?” Walker could not see a thing, almost as if he were blind. He then saw a great beam of light, blinding him temporarily.
“Congratulations, Private Walker, on behalf of the Imperial Arcadian Forces, I gladly present you with the medal of excellence, a great honor indeed.” Walker stood in silence as he was watching a movie of his past.
“What the hell is this?” Walker then realized he could not speak, but only think out his words. “What the heck is happening to me?!” He was the audience to the play, the actors, ignoring Walker as if he wasn’t there.
“It has been an honor sir,” his image played out the script. Suddenly a shadowed figure appeared behind his image. He carried a dagger, about to kill Walker’s image.
Walker stood in confusion, but reacted instantly in fear, “No! You can’t!” He threw himself in front of the cloaked assassin. The figure evaded Walker, dropping his dagger on the ground. He turned to Walker, and drew his katana from his belt. Walker was in fear, “What the hell do I do now?!” He stepped back, tripping over an object of some sort. It was the same katana he found in the hidden cellar. He brought himself up his feet, the blade in his right hand, ready to engage in melee with the unknown force. “How do I even use this?!” Walker swung the blade at the assailant, he missed by a scratch. The figure then struck back, clashing with Walker’s block by the blade. They were caught in a deadlock. Walker struggled to gain a lead, and eventually broke the clash in his favor. The intruder fell to the ground, dropping his blade several feet away. Walker returned to his guarding stance, ready for the next move. “How the hell did I just do that?!” He was in deep confusion, but saw the opportunity. He lanced the blade into the shadowed figure. It let out a violent scream, before finally settling into its defeat. Walker stepped back, looking at the image of him. He was shaking hands with his fellow officers. The play then torn apart into darkness, enveloping Walker into a scenery of nothing.
“He’s breathing! He’s alive!” Isabella let out a joyful cry of relief.
“Impossible!” The old man dropped staff to the ground, unable to find the correct emotion of his face to express his deep surprise.
Wolf lunged himself over to Walker’s side, placing his hand on Walker’s wrist. “Heart rate is returning to normal, breathing is correcting, it’s a miracle!”
Walker finally opened his eyes to the world around him, several faces around him with the same expression of joy and happiness of a certain déjà vu.