one. ~ [ UNINTENTIONAL VIDEO POST ]
[With all the Labyrinth and madness going on, now is among the most inconvenient times to be worrying about a wave of newcomers. Right now, you see the Southern District Gate. Although short-lived, there is an air of calmness.
Then the two doors slowly pry open, revealing nothing more but the murky, shadowy-depths on the other side.
Like it or not, something from within is beckoned forth.
Fell prey to his curiosity; compelled by the paranormal which inevitably draws him further and further from the safety and security of what one would perceive to be a safe, normal, and happy life of a humble fry cook, we meet Odd Thomas emerging from the pitch blackness. For the endless depths being so despondent, the young man you are witnessed to is hardly as menacing. He is nothing short of what you would consider the textbook definition of an everyman.
Unaware to being a public spectacle, he takes a moment to lift a hand over his chest, double-checking that he hadn’t merely forgotten the part where he might have made contact with his past self and blown up into a million fragments of Odd Thomases. But he finds that he remains perfectly in tact, having avoided a meeting with a cruel fate of being erased from existence. Fortunately, he had grown no extraneous limbs during his traverse between worlds, either. Had to check for that, too.
His eyes squint as he looks up at the sky overhead, his retinas still adjusting to the abrupt switch of light. When his vision can make sense of the details of his surroundings, Odd begins to realize now that he is no longer in Camp’s End or Pico Mundo.
At all.]
“...not quite what I was expecting...”
[His attention then moves to the perspective which has him at an angle, as it shifts before cutting to black.]
Then the two doors slowly pry open, revealing nothing more but the murky, shadowy-depths on the other side.
Like it or not, something from within is beckoned forth.
Fell prey to his curiosity; compelled by the paranormal which inevitably draws him further and further from the safety and security of what one would perceive to be a safe, normal, and happy life of a humble fry cook, we meet Odd Thomas emerging from the pitch blackness. For the endless depths being so despondent, the young man you are witnessed to is hardly as menacing. He is nothing short of what you would consider the textbook definition of an everyman.
Unaware to being a public spectacle, he takes a moment to lift a hand over his chest, double-checking that he hadn’t merely forgotten the part where he might have made contact with his past self and blown up into a million fragments of Odd Thomases. But he finds that he remains perfectly in tact, having avoided a meeting with a cruel fate of being erased from existence. Fortunately, he had grown no extraneous limbs during his traverse between worlds, either. Had to check for that, too.
His eyes squint as he looks up at the sky overhead, his retinas still adjusting to the abrupt switch of light. When his vision can make sense of the details of his surroundings, Odd begins to realize now that he is no longer in Camp’s End or Pico Mundo.
At all.]
“...not quite what I was expecting...”
[His attention then moves to the perspective which has him at an angle, as it shifts before cutting to black.]