Pill #8 ((OOC + Narrative))
Alright, I am going to type Hana's nightmare, and this will be more silly than those of the other too. xD I also updated his profile pics! <3 Here's the poor boy's nightmare:
Hanatarou snapped back into reality, or so he thought. He wiped the drool off his face, and sat upright. He was back at his desk in Soul Society, a stack of papers before him, a brightly lit lamp set on the table.
All of the occurances at that strange Port seemed to have been a dream... And he was back home, where he needed to be, where everyone despised him. The medic had no choice but to return to his paperwork, and noticed that there was an awful stench coming from the hallway.
Hanatarou's face slowly drained of all color, becoming a ghastly white. The dark circles under his weary, blue eyes could be easily seen, and he shakily cast a glance over his shoulder. ((basically, his face in the profile pic. xD))
The door was open, but only by a crack. Hanatarou faltered, and a pen fell out of his hand. He had an ominous feeling, but as if in a trance, he slowly rose to see what was going on. That walk seemed like one of the longest he had ever taken, and one of the most difficult. He rubbed his eyes, and promptly stumbled over his own feet, bumping into the door and causing it to open.
The pansy's nose touched something, that was an oozing, foul-smelling, red liquid. It wasn't exactly fuild, since it was rather sticky, and seemed to be drying. Hanatarou looked at his nose, his eyes widening in horror as realized what the substance was.
Blood. There was someone's blood his nose. Where did it come from?
The poor boy could only turn his head to discover that the entire fourth division had been slaughtered- Right in this hallway. So many familiar faces, how did it happen?
Most people say all corpses look the same, he said to himself, his train of thought wrecked. But they don't- The only thing they have in common is that they all look terribly frightening. One boy had been mopping the floor, the cleaning instrument lying limply in his hand. His eyes had been rolled into the back of his head, and there were bubbles of blood frothing upon the boy's lips.
Isane was dead, too. She was screaming, her hands curled around her scalpel, forever clinging to her only form of self defense. There was a deep wound in her back, and Hanatarou could see parts of her backbone exposed through the flesh. He was too afraid to turn her over, and see the expression on her face.
And finally, there was Captain Unohana, smiling ever so pleasantly in death. She looked the same, though there was blood flowing from her lip. Although the dark-haired boy would always love to receive one of the loving woman's smiles, this one was rather creepy- She was dead, after all, and smiling at him. He could utter no words, but tears streamed down his cheeks as he realized the fate of his mother figure.
"What's wrong, Hanatarou-kun?" Unohana's mouth moved, and it contorted into a twisted, psychotic grin. The boy could not move or speak, but only watch, and listen. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with a sadistic delight as she watched his anguish.
"Are you sad, Hanatarou-kun? Are you alone? You're worthless, like all of us here. We're all dead, we've left you. Do you want to die to, Hanatarou-kun? If you want, there's the scalpel in Isane's hand. Go on, touch it," her voice was as calm, and sweet as it has always been.
Hanatarou awoke screaming, and touched the side of his face. He recognized his surroundings- Port Mango, in his bed... This had all been a dream, hopefully. Hantarou quickly slipped on a pair of sandals, and went to go look for Showusei.
Hanatarou snapped back into reality, or so he thought. He wiped the drool off his face, and sat upright. He was back at his desk in Soul Society, a stack of papers before him, a brightly lit lamp set on the table.
All of the occurances at that strange Port seemed to have been a dream... And he was back home, where he needed to be, where everyone despised him. The medic had no choice but to return to his paperwork, and noticed that there was an awful stench coming from the hallway.
Hanatarou's face slowly drained of all color, becoming a ghastly white. The dark circles under his weary, blue eyes could be easily seen, and he shakily cast a glance over his shoulder. ((basically, his face in the profile pic. xD))
The door was open, but only by a crack. Hanatarou faltered, and a pen fell out of his hand. He had an ominous feeling, but as if in a trance, he slowly rose to see what was going on. That walk seemed like one of the longest he had ever taken, and one of the most difficult. He rubbed his eyes, and promptly stumbled over his own feet, bumping into the door and causing it to open.
The pansy's nose touched something, that was an oozing, foul-smelling, red liquid. It wasn't exactly fuild, since it was rather sticky, and seemed to be drying. Hanatarou looked at his nose, his eyes widening in horror as realized what the substance was.
Blood. There was someone's blood his nose. Where did it come from?
The poor boy could only turn his head to discover that the entire fourth division had been slaughtered- Right in this hallway. So many familiar faces, how did it happen?
Most people say all corpses look the same, he said to himself, his train of thought wrecked. But they don't- The only thing they have in common is that they all look terribly frightening. One boy had been mopping the floor, the cleaning instrument lying limply in his hand. His eyes had been rolled into the back of his head, and there were bubbles of blood frothing upon the boy's lips.
Isane was dead, too. She was screaming, her hands curled around her scalpel, forever clinging to her only form of self defense. There was a deep wound in her back, and Hanatarou could see parts of her backbone exposed through the flesh. He was too afraid to turn her over, and see the expression on her face.
And finally, there was Captain Unohana, smiling ever so pleasantly in death. She looked the same, though there was blood flowing from her lip. Although the dark-haired boy would always love to receive one of the loving woman's smiles, this one was rather creepy- She was dead, after all, and smiling at him. He could utter no words, but tears streamed down his cheeks as he realized the fate of his mother figure.
"What's wrong, Hanatarou-kun?" Unohana's mouth moved, and it contorted into a twisted, psychotic grin. The boy could not move or speak, but only watch, and listen. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with a sadistic delight as she watched his anguish.
"Are you sad, Hanatarou-kun? Are you alone? You're worthless, like all of us here. We're all dead, we've left you. Do you want to die to, Hanatarou-kun? If you want, there's the scalpel in Isane's hand. Go on, touch it," her voice was as calm, and sweet as it has always been.
Hanatarou awoke screaming, and touched the side of his face. He recognized his surroundings- Port Mango, in his bed... This had all been a dream, hopefully. Hantarou quickly slipped on a pair of sandals, and went to go look for Showusei.