Bloodbourne | Fan Fiction #1

He was walking down the field. No idea where he was or what he was doing ... a wolf howled. He shivered for a second and got his calm back right in time. What creature is that? He thought. He guessed, 'it is a dog!'. The cleric beast? He had heard rumors? Were they true?

He pushed on!

Growls after growls, he suffered. He shivered; till JRR Tolkien's soul itself got curious. Is this really happening? He asked himself, he took out his saw-cleaver and readied himself. Finally, I will have to fight, or maybe.

He looked at his coat. He was drenched in blood. What blood is that? Who does it belong to? He tried to reason it into his present circumstance, and failed miserably. Last he knew, he had gotten a transfusion. A simple transfusion. 

Was he in a dream? Or outside of it?

So You Think You Can Tell?

That afternoon, nothing was more depressing for him than to hear the voice he had once learnt to love, putting him down. He cursed himself for forgetting what she had done to him three years ago. He knew he had not loved anyone with such intensity before her. He was in love again, with a new girl, more intense, better. He had expected her to share his new found happiness with him. He could sense the arrogance in her voice. He could sense the hatred she had developed over the years. He could sense her happiness seeking his own solace, to end it, to destroy it. While he was being told that he was a no good story spinner who wants to be someone else, he was busy remembering how all this had gone down. He remembered how he had not wanted to break these chains. He remembered how it was utterly difficult for him to digest anything he had heard in those two years of companionship with her. He knew her truth. Venomous. How she had claimed she had dreams beyond the reach of an average human. How she had told him how they would share a future that would be unmatched. He remembered how he had left everything and everyone just to love her each and every second of his life. He remembered the sting of depression in its true sense. Halfway through the conversation, after being told that he was a good for nothing loser in life she told him how everyone who has left him has been sensible enough in doing so; he started laughing. He laughed his heart out. He had just in a breath realised that he had been through all this and none of this would ever effect him again. Click! He hung up and walked towards the refrigerator. Phew! What a day! He thought to himself. He switched the television on. He poured a Bacardi into his glass and added a couple of cubes of ice. Cheering his own idiosyncrasy he made a toast to his past and to things he did not ever want to relive. He thought about the great times he has had and the bad ones from which he had learnt. He was happy. Things around him were not in great shape. But still, he was happy in his new found maturity and happiness. Happiness that had come from the fact that he could selflessly love again. 

He didn't realise that he had slipped into sleep on his couch itself. His phone rang at around 7pm in the evening. He rubbed his eyes and soon realised that he had missed the call. Maybe it was from her trying to act nasty again about how he had hung up on her. He knew he had had enough of that now. He noticed how outside everything was dead quiet. Not even a faint sound was there to give him company. He reached for his glass of Bacardi and barely managed to scoop it off the side table. Suddenly, BEEP BEEP ! his cellular phone rang. The calm and the loud sudden beep of his phone had caused the Bacardi glass to slip out of his hand. It broke almost instantly. He thought, if he could slow down time he would realise that the glass had broken even before hitting the ground. It felt as if it was rigged to break anyhow. He picked up his phone and read the message. fck u! dnt evr try 2 call me again ... u loser! He smiled. Suddenly the door bell rang. He was wondering who it was, maybe one of his friends willing to take him out. Maybe that breath of fresh air he needed so much after a lazy day and an early evening nap was here. He opened the door. In front of him stood a fair, good looking guy, smiling at him. It was weird. He was well dressed but not too formal. He had his hands behind his back. How have you been sir? the young man asked him. Huh? he had not expected that. Out of the blue the sweet looking guy pulled out a .24 Colt Revolver. The distance between the center of his forehead and the gun barrel was almost zero in the next second. He then noticed that the guy's expression had suddenly changed from that of smiling to that of rage. Uhh .... before he could say a word, the stranger pulled the trigger. BANG! There was no time. He suddenly woke up in his couch. He noticed that the television was still playing. He looked at the wall clock it was 6:23pm. Vehicles were making a lot of noise on the road nearby. He was covered in his own perspiration. He had goosebumps. He noticed his Bacardi was still on the side table. Very much intact. He wondered how real the dream, he had just been in, was. Or is this something that happens after someone is dead? he thought. Holy shit! he wiped his forehead. He had to call someone. He picked his phone and redialed the last dialed number. He didn't care who it was. He just wanted to hear another voice to make him feel alive. What now you moron ... did you pee your pants? the voice on the other side of the line said. He hated that voice. He hated her from the core of his heart. Still he was glad he was alive and in control. Do you think you can tell? he asked her. What!!! ... I mean ... she was about to break into a barrage of fury when he knew what he had to do. Click! He hung up and walked towards his refrigerator. 

Angels

I feel like a song without the words,

a man without a soul,

a bird without its wings,

a heart without a home.

I feel like a knight without a sword,

a sky without the sun, cause you are the one.

I feel like a ship beneath the waves,

a child who's lost its way,

a door without a key, a face without a name.

I feel like a breath without the air,

and everyday's the same,

since you've gone away.

They tell me that a man can lose his mind,

Living in the pain.

Recallin' times gone by,

I'm crying in the rain.

You know I've wasted half the time

and I'm on my knees again.

'Til you come to me.

I gotta have a reason to wake up in the morning.

You used to be the one that put a smile on my face.

There are no words that could describe how I miss you;

I miss you, everyday.

I am still holding on, girl, I won't let you go,

Cause when I'm lying in your arms I know I'm home.

I gotta have a reason to wake up in the morning.

You used to be the one that put a smile on my face.

There are no words that could describe how I miss you.

And I miss you, everyday.

Still holding on, girl, I won't let you go.

Lay my head against your heart, I know I'm home.

(composed by Daniel Bedingfield)

Today is the longest day of my life

Hope you are doing fine. I am doing fine now. I have numbed my senses to the point of no return. From you I got what I had wanted for a long long time; a realistic view of things. Reality never was really my thing until you came along. I got a crash course in perception. And boy, what a crash it was. I have bled myself to the point that I have no blood left in my body to even feel the pinch. I have beaten myself to the point where I have no choice but to believe that it was 'all' my fault. I mean, we should face the facts here, it was actually all my fault. See, I accept it now. 

Also, I have never been able to accept the way things happened between us. Before writing anything further I would like to add a disclaimer here. Read ahead of this point only if you can seriously accept the fact that I am sitting here, trying to say a lot of things and I have no one who could spare time to listen. So the little I have left inside of me, I will write here and after this point I will forget that I ever felt anything even remotely similar to what I write here. Trust me, I have no confusion in my head anymore and I know what the way to go is. I know writing stuff here is not the best way to say things. But what the heck. If I had that kind of a brain inside this head, I wouldnt be sitting here crooning. This, I believe is just the left over angst and the untied strings and the unfinished conversations. To say the least, I'd like to say that I have absolutely NO regrets. It was lovely being with you for the time we were together. You are a lovely woman, and I wish you all the best in your life.

First things first. I should tell you, that I have indeed loved you, for whatever or howsoever much time. But I have. I know a few days from now I would be able to love again. But just that my life has be an extra-fucked-up-timing-vaganza. You cared, I didnt. I cared, you didnt. We both cared, no time. I know, all this is no ones fault, but still I will take it on me. After all, I am your friendly neighbourhood fall-guy. Dont feel like you've made a mistake, you've made somebody's heart break. I am stronger than you think and now I have to let you go. I understand the circumstances, I understand the unfolding of events. I have made you cry, and I dont deserve you. In fact you deserve better. 

I knew this was coming, I knew this could not go on forever like this. I knew we have serious timing issues. But its okay. Life moves on. I always end up being the bad guy. I hope you dont feel that way about me. I respect you and I expect the same. I am not a bad guy, I'm just someone who has had bad luck in this department. I would like to promise you now, that I will be your friend till the end. I know you better than you think I do. 

Thats all I have to say. Today has been the longest day of my life. Getting over you, was one of the hardest things I have ever done. The next time you see me, you will see me happy. I will be me again. Yet again. 

(I know have to stop doing this to myself. Time and time again. But trust me, this is not my ego talking. This is not a baggage I needed to shed. Deep inside me I feel everything, no matter how much I claim I dont.)

Only the dead survive

As the reinforced steel doors gave way to my angling perceptions of how life would be in its aftermath, I double checked my watch. It was exactly 1:34am. Six more minutes of uncertainty. Six more minutes of my old life. I had made mistakes in life. Many mistakes. As I had promised myself this was to be the last one. Jack Estolio was never to steal again. Better put, he wouldn't have the need to steal anymore. That's right, there was enough money behind this door to suffice for two of my family lifetimes. It was the heist of the century. 200 Million Dollars. I could get back my life. My son would go to a decent college. My wife would have barbecue parties on the patio where she would flaunt her new fur coat from France. My debts will be paid off. I'd ride in a chauffeured limousine. I'd invest money in the markets long-term to double it in every 10 years or so. Anna and I would watch the sunset from our beach mansion's balcony and get right back in thereafter...

As the iron bars closed shut in front of my face, I imagined how Frank had framed me. If I forgive that bastard I would maybe let myself sleep for just one night, so that I don't have to faint at the prison quarry by noon. I checked my watch. It was 11:54pm. Six more hours of darkness. Six more hours till the sun comes up. I had made mistakes in life. Many mistakes. But this one was the dumbest of them all. Had I not gotten greedy, I wouldn't have had to get my ego pounded by hounds from hell. 300 nights of sheer hell. It was the prison of the century. As I slid into my bunk, I imagined what my son would be dreaming about right now. The Marco Family hounds got Anna within 4 days of my capture. My son was taken into custodian rehab by some Templeton family. I wish they would let me meet my son, I would get right back in thereafter ...