Forum Thread
Replay
Forum-Index → Fanmades → Fanfictions → Replay[A cassette tape is placed into a VCR machine.]
[A tall man sits down in front of the screen.]
[his glimmering blue eyes dull as the scene plays out once more, for the millionth time.]
[A Golden hallway.]
[A child.]
[A knife.]
[Dust.]
[He remembered this.]
[The crushing silence.]
[The cool breeze of the surface, the chirping of birds.]
[the scent of ash.]
[pause.]
[The man runs a hand through his golden-brown hair.]
[He taps the floor.]
[he glances back, to the closed door.]
[He can hear the chattering of people downstairs.]
[he sighs, and continues the video, the memories hitting him like a truck.]
[The child lunges.]
[the tall figure dodges.]
[The child is impaled by a jagged bone.]
[Pause.]
[he remembers this. The first time.]
[The scent of strawberries.]
[The scent of magic.]
[The scent of blood.]
[The man laughs.]
[unpause.]
[ The child falls to the floor, limp.]
[The video glitches for a split second.]
[the opening scene plays out once more.]
[the same set of events play out, over and over.]
[lunge.]
[dodge.]
[crack.]
[stab.]
[dodge.]
[snap.]
[The screen starts to glitch.]
[the edges of the screen glitch into static.]
[The man keeps watching.]
[over.]
[and.]
[over.]
[the same scene plays, over and over.]
[The child is killed, over and over, but they keep coming back.]
[every time, a bit faster.]
[every time, a bit stronger]
[every time, closer to killing the tall figure.]
[hundreds of times... thousands of times... the same scene replays.]
[until...]
[the sound of a knife cutting through flesh and bone.]
[blood splatters across the pristine floor of the golden hall.]
[the figure stumbles.]
[he whispers something, not fully caught by the video.]
[he stumbles past the child.]
[the child walks past him.]
[the figure drops to the floor.]
[he lays there, lifeless...]
[until a portal opens up, in front of the fallen man.]
[the man looks up.]
[with all of his remaining strength, he crawls across the floor, going through the portal.]
[and with that...]
[the screen cuts to black.]
[The man gets up from the floor.]
[He takes the cassette out.]
[a voice rings out.]
["Kendo! Come down, dinner's ready!"]
[The man turns away from the screen.]
[He opens his mouth to speak.]
["Aight... 'm coming. Gimme a sec!"]
[He sighs, and tosses the cassette into the rubbish bin.]
[He opens the door, and disappears through it.]
wickedness?
Or is it
weakness?
You decide.
Title: Recall
[It feels like someone drove a stake through his heart.]
[He stares at the wall of his room.]
[many objects adorn the wall, seemingly random.]
[most would assume they're the spoils of war.]
[they are not.]
[A red scarf, worn and torn, hand-stitched.]
[A blue spear, glowing faintly, smelling vaguely of oranges.]
[A pair of broken circular glasses.]
[A dull, rusted golden crown.]
[A scrap of purple cloth.]
[A heart-shaped shard of glass.]
[A heart-shaped locket.]
[A blood-stained knife.]
[He shudders visibly when his eyes linger over the knife.]
[all of these had a story.]
[These are all that is left of his friends.]
[His family.]
[All that he has left from his own world.]
[He smiles.]
[There was no point in recalling the past.]
[It was so far away from where he was now.]
[Right now, he was happy.]
[he was loved.]
[There was no point in going back to that painful time in his life.]
[He took them off the wall, dropping them through a portal.]
[one by one, the items disappeared.]
[Scarf.]
[Spear.]
[Cloth.]
[Crown.]
[Glasses.]
[Glass]
[Locket.]
[Knife.]
[he whispers a single word.]
["Goodbye."]
[And with that, he exits the room through the door.]
[It's time to move on.]
wickedness?
Or is it
weakness?
You decide.