Post by deadman on Aug 20, 2006 19:27:28 GMT -5
Bob Wills, who was slightly amused that his namesake was an old country singer, back in John Wayne's prime, was having post-death problems. Few people can honestly say they've ever had those, but certainly Bob was now among that elite.
The dark, still, and quite dead man next to him was the cause of this postmortem ills. The man, who's red eyes never seemed to blink, and didn't quite express normal emotion. The man who'd killed him, not twenty minutes earlier by choking the life out of him in the rest stop bathroom.
Bob had finally been silenced from his screaming, which he thought would never stop – even though he'd tried to get it to – and now seemed to be in complete subservience to the dead man. The man whispered to him in his mind, and Bob had even felt his will digging through his memories like oily fingers through his brain. He knew the man next to him could access everything in his memories, everything Bob knew. Yet Bob had limited access to them... in fact, already Bob was forgetting things. Probably as his brain slowly dried up.
Now he was forced to drive upstate, just as he was forced to open his laptop and find information regarding some broad named Emma Frost. Apparently she was wealthy and had a headquarters up there, and this guy (Dead Man) had a good reason to get there. Bob tried to talk to the Dead Man, tried to reach out telepathically, but to no avail. The living corpse didn't seem to react in any way to him... he treated him like he was a tool – a resource not to be respected as a thinking organism or acknowledged in any way. Bob had never felt this way before, so completely powerless, and so completely hopeless... worse, he knew for a fact that he would likely be in this man's 'employ' for quite some while.
It was a living hell.
The dark, still, and quite dead man next to him was the cause of this postmortem ills. The man, who's red eyes never seemed to blink, and didn't quite express normal emotion. The man who'd killed him, not twenty minutes earlier by choking the life out of him in the rest stop bathroom.
Bob had finally been silenced from his screaming, which he thought would never stop – even though he'd tried to get it to – and now seemed to be in complete subservience to the dead man. The man whispered to him in his mind, and Bob had even felt his will digging through his memories like oily fingers through his brain. He knew the man next to him could access everything in his memories, everything Bob knew. Yet Bob had limited access to them... in fact, already Bob was forgetting things. Probably as his brain slowly dried up.
Now he was forced to drive upstate, just as he was forced to open his laptop and find information regarding some broad named Emma Frost. Apparently she was wealthy and had a headquarters up there, and this guy (Dead Man) had a good reason to get there. Bob tried to talk to the Dead Man, tried to reach out telepathically, but to no avail. The living corpse didn't seem to react in any way to him... he treated him like he was a tool – a resource not to be respected as a thinking organism or acknowledged in any way. Bob had never felt this way before, so completely powerless, and so completely hopeless... worse, he knew for a fact that he would likely be in this man's 'employ' for quite some while.
It was a living hell.