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University Heights
05-20-10 02:10 PM
iBOCK is Offline
| ID: 186323 | 1318 Words
| ID: 186323 | 1318 Words
iBOCK
Level: 127
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POST EXP: 267468
LVL EXP: 23655315
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POSTS: 3999/4283
POST EXP: 267468
LVL EXP: 23655315
CP: 769.4
VIZ: 117402
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WARNING: Suggestive themes, violence, strong language, and other mature material not suitable for younger readers. Genre: College Drama/Suspense/Mystery Below is the pilot episode: _____________ \\\\\PILOT There were seven days until college began. The future was shrouded in uncertainty—almost enough to make young David Krisman drop out—and his summertime freedom was frittering away. Just one more year, he muttered to himself. David spent several hours on the front steps of the Earle-Jackson armory, pondering thoughts of what he was going to do with his life. When he was here, nobody would bother him. David was left to tend to his own thoughts and to confront his own problems by himself. The only thing he could not escape from, however, was the tight grip of his parents’ rule. North Main Street was abandoned; everyone had gone home by two o’clock in the morning, except for lonely little Krisman. His bright red hair cascaded down his pale face, like fire tearing through white curtains. Of course nothing matched on him; he was wearing a green and orange band hooded sweatshirt, with bright blue jeans. In the pitch black darkness of the August night, David’s colorful presence stood out strongly. His phone began to ring loudly. The ringtone echoed throughout the now dead silent town. Dave was afraid to answer, but he knew he would have to anyway. “H-hello…?†“Where the f*** are you? It’s four in the morning. Get your ass back home.†His father’s voice exploded through the phone’s small speaker. That was his cue to yes him to death and take the 87 bus home. The sweet, silent escape had come to an end. Just in the nick of time, an empty bus pulled up to the stop in front of him. It would be the final quiet moment before another confrontation. When he arrived at the front door, the fear began to well up inside him. A warm tingling went up and down his spine. The door swung open and slammed against the left wall in the hallway. “What do you do out there so late at night?†His father yelled in frustration. David cringed briefly. He always knew what was going to be said by his father—but he just never braced for it well enough. “Dad, c’mon.†It was his typical response to his father’s mood swings. “I never get a proper answer from you.†“You do, but you don’t believe it when I tell you—†“It’s because you’re bulls***ting me; I know you’re not just loitering out there, thinking. You have plenty of time to do that in class.†He usually just took the yelling and tantrums. Krisman knew that it’d blow over eventually, and that his dad would apologize. Except for tonight of course; tonight was completely different—an exception to the rule. “Just leave me alone, okay?†David didn’t realize that this would strike a nerve in his father. It would prove to derail everything, “What’d you jus’ say? Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Take your s*** and go. You’ll have plenty of alone time then.†With only a few split seconds to decide, David heavily shoved his father out of the way and sprinted upstairs to his room. He knew that he would only have a tiny window of time to pack things and leave. There was no turning back now; he defied his father and assaulted him. Tonight would be the night that drastic changes began—starting with a backpack full of clothes, his cell phone and the charger. David ran toward the closet and began yanking shirts and pants from the hangers, packing them haphazardly into his checkered backpack. Next item on the list would be several pairs of socks. He rushed to the dresser, grabbing bundles of socks that probably didn’t match—but he didn’t give a damn. Jamming the phone and charger into the front pocket, Krisman zipped up the bag and tossed it over his shoulder. He didn’t care where he’d go to find a place to stay, he just wanted to get out of that house. “Bye.†Dave muttered as he jogged out the front door. “You too.†His father simply shouted back. Just one more year. He pulled out his keyboard phone and began typing in a phone number he knew all too well. “Hello?†A female voice on the other end of the line cooed. “Hey. Can I stay at your place tonight?†“Dave, I thought I told you we were done—†“Please, I’m begging you…†He whispered into the phone. The tone in his voice had a hint of desperation in it. The woman on the other end of the line sighed and said, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.†__________________________________________________________________________ The Biltmore hotel was glamorous. The marble tiles were perfectly clean, without a single blemish on them. The walls, white with Victorian designs, complimented the sophisticated gold borders around each floor tile. Everything seemed to come together in an effortless aesthetic harmony. Twenty something Akira Kojiro stood out like a dark blotch on a painting. His tall, lanky stature didn't seem to match his long mop of deep brown hair. The skinny black jeans and pearl white shirt he was wearing strangely matched. A slightly crooked smile was etched across Akira's pale, bony face. He slowly trudged to the front desk with two suitcases and a backpack, discreetly avoiding eye contact with the teller. “Can I help you?†A short, plump blonde girl asked with her high-pitched voice. She obnoxiously chomped on peppermint gum in between words, and tilted her head occasionally. Her name tag said 'KATIE' in bold, blue lettering. “Uh—yes. I-I would like a room, please.†Kojiro's silky voice did not give any hint of an accent. It was soft, but not mumbling; every word that emerged from his mouth flowed together in a charming sequence. “Okay,†Katie murmured. Her round fingers began tapping away at a thin, white keyboard in front of her. She seemed to be hitting random buttons from Akira's point of view—occasionally pounding the space bar after a series of what seemed like gibberish—but after several moments of typing, Katie finally looked up at him. “We have four rooms left. 306, 1407, 529 and 676. They're all four hundred a night.†“A-alright. I'll take the 1407, please..†His gratuitous manners made Katie chuckle a bit. He finally had eye contact with her, but only for a few moments before swiftly turning away. “It's all set.†Katie reached into a drawer and pulled out a gold-colored card. “One night or two?†“Just one, thanks.†“Okay, here you go. $428.†Akira took the key card and reached into one of his suitcases. He put a stack of 100-dollar bills on the desk and walked away. “Keep the change.†Kajiro smiled. He walked toward the nearest elevator; as it was about to close, he sprinted toward it and put his arm in between the doors. Luckily for him the elevator was empty, meaning he didn’t have to talk to anyone on the way up. Akira didn’t enjoy speaking with people he didn’t know. He didn’t trust anyone enough. The dial on top of the elevator door reached 14, and by the time he noticed it the doors slid open slowly. Akira quickly snatched up the luggage and briskly walked out of the elevator. Room 1407 was conveniently right in front of him. Everything was going smoothly. He had the money, the freedom, and everything else that came with being free from his parents. Akira swiped the keycard and immediately made himself at home. But the feeling of comfort was short-lived. A shadowy figured stood in front of a large window on the other end of the room; it was motionless, but words managed to eerily spout from its lips. “You should have used a fake ID.†“How’d you find me?†Akira gasped in awe. “Your father told me, before I killed him.†WARNING: Suggestive themes, violence, strong language, and other mature material not suitable for younger readers. Genre: College Drama/Suspense/Mystery Below is the pilot episode: _____________ \\\\\PILOT There were seven days until college began. The future was shrouded in uncertainty—almost enough to make young David Krisman drop out—and his summertime freedom was frittering away. Just one more year, he muttered to himself. David spent several hours on the front steps of the Earle-Jackson armory, pondering thoughts of what he was going to do with his life. When he was here, nobody would bother him. David was left to tend to his own thoughts and to confront his own problems by himself. The only thing he could not escape from, however, was the tight grip of his parents’ rule. North Main Street was abandoned; everyone had gone home by two o’clock in the morning, except for lonely little Krisman. His bright red hair cascaded down his pale face, like fire tearing through white curtains. Of course nothing matched on him; he was wearing a green and orange band hooded sweatshirt, with bright blue jeans. In the pitch black darkness of the August night, David’s colorful presence stood out strongly. His phone began to ring loudly. The ringtone echoed throughout the now dead silent town. Dave was afraid to answer, but he knew he would have to anyway. “H-hello…?†“Where the f*** are you? It’s four in the morning. Get your ass back home.†His father’s voice exploded through the phone’s small speaker. That was his cue to yes him to death and take the 87 bus home. The sweet, silent escape had come to an end. Just in the nick of time, an empty bus pulled up to the stop in front of him. It would be the final quiet moment before another confrontation. When he arrived at the front door, the fear began to well up inside him. A warm tingling went up and down his spine. The door swung open and slammed against the left wall in the hallway. “What do you do out there so late at night?†His father yelled in frustration. David cringed briefly. He always knew what was going to be said by his father—but he just never braced for it well enough. “Dad, c’mon.†It was his typical response to his father’s mood swings. “I never get a proper answer from you.†“You do, but you don’t believe it when I tell you—†“It’s because you’re bulls***ting me; I know you’re not just loitering out there, thinking. You have plenty of time to do that in class.†He usually just took the yelling and tantrums. Krisman knew that it’d blow over eventually, and that his dad would apologize. Except for tonight of course; tonight was completely different—an exception to the rule. “Just leave me alone, okay?†David didn’t realize that this would strike a nerve in his father. It would prove to derail everything, “What’d you jus’ say? Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Take your s*** and go. You’ll have plenty of alone time then.†With only a few split seconds to decide, David heavily shoved his father out of the way and sprinted upstairs to his room. He knew that he would only have a tiny window of time to pack things and leave. There was no turning back now; he defied his father and assaulted him. Tonight would be the night that drastic changes began—starting with a backpack full of clothes, his cell phone and the charger. David ran toward the closet and began yanking shirts and pants from the hangers, packing them haphazardly into his checkered backpack. Next item on the list would be several pairs of socks. He rushed to the dresser, grabbing bundles of socks that probably didn’t match—but he didn’t give a damn. Jamming the phone and charger into the front pocket, Krisman zipped up the bag and tossed it over his shoulder. He didn’t care where he’d go to find a place to stay, he just wanted to get out of that house. “Bye.†Dave muttered as he jogged out the front door. “You too.†His father simply shouted back. Just one more year. He pulled out his keyboard phone and began typing in a phone number he knew all too well. “Hello?†A female voice on the other end of the line cooed. “Hey. Can I stay at your place tonight?†“Dave, I thought I told you we were done—†“Please, I’m begging you…†He whispered into the phone. The tone in his voice had a hint of desperation in it. The woman on the other end of the line sighed and said, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.†__________________________________________________________________________ The Biltmore hotel was glamorous. The marble tiles were perfectly clean, without a single blemish on them. The walls, white with Victorian designs, complimented the sophisticated gold borders around each floor tile. Everything seemed to come together in an effortless aesthetic harmony. Twenty something Akira Kojiro stood out like a dark blotch on a painting. His tall, lanky stature didn't seem to match his long mop of deep brown hair. The skinny black jeans and pearl white shirt he was wearing strangely matched. A slightly crooked smile was etched across Akira's pale, bony face. He slowly trudged to the front desk with two suitcases and a backpack, discreetly avoiding eye contact with the teller. “Can I help you?†A short, plump blonde girl asked with her high-pitched voice. She obnoxiously chomped on peppermint gum in between words, and tilted her head occasionally. Her name tag said 'KATIE' in bold, blue lettering. “Uh—yes. I-I would like a room, please.†Kojiro's silky voice did not give any hint of an accent. It was soft, but not mumbling; every word that emerged from his mouth flowed together in a charming sequence. “Okay,†Katie murmured. Her round fingers began tapping away at a thin, white keyboard in front of her. She seemed to be hitting random buttons from Akira's point of view—occasionally pounding the space bar after a series of what seemed like gibberish—but after several moments of typing, Katie finally looked up at him. “We have four rooms left. 306, 1407, 529 and 676. They're all four hundred a night.†“A-alright. I'll take the 1407, please..†His gratuitous manners made Katie chuckle a bit. He finally had eye contact with her, but only for a few moments before swiftly turning away. “It's all set.†Katie reached into a drawer and pulled out a gold-colored card. “One night or two?†“Just one, thanks.†“Okay, here you go. $428.†Akira took the key card and reached into one of his suitcases. He put a stack of 100-dollar bills on the desk and walked away. “Keep the change.†Kajiro smiled. He walked toward the nearest elevator; as it was about to close, he sprinted toward it and put his arm in between the doors. Luckily for him the elevator was empty, meaning he didn’t have to talk to anyone on the way up. Akira didn’t enjoy speaking with people he didn’t know. He didn’t trust anyone enough. The dial on top of the elevator door reached 14, and by the time he noticed it the doors slid open slowly. Akira quickly snatched up the luggage and briskly walked out of the elevator. Room 1407 was conveniently right in front of him. Everything was going smoothly. He had the money, the freedom, and everything else that came with being free from his parents. Akira swiped the keycard and immediately made himself at home. But the feeling of comfort was short-lived. A shadowy figured stood in front of a large window on the other end of the room; it was motionless, but words managed to eerily spout from its lips. “You should have used a fake ID.†“How’d you find me?†Akira gasped in awe. “Your father told me, before I killed him.†|
Vizzed Elite
Affected by 'Laziness Syndrome'
Registered: 05-02-05
Location: the grid
Last Post: 4384 days
Last Active: 3341 days
Affected by 'Laziness Syndrome'
Registered: 05-02-05
Location: the grid
Last Post: 4384 days
Last Active: 3341 days
(edited by iBOCK on 05-20-10 02:11 PM)
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