Saturday, January 19, 2013

Ian Heartbreak: Mustache Man

Ian watched his own body get sliced and stabbed. His dark blood started to leak out through the various cuts on his torso. He could smell the metallic scent of blood and he started to feel nauseous. 
Ian spun and walked through the mahogany door; not disturbing anything in the material plane. He walked past sorcerers and wondered how they brought themselves to do the things they do. The cold stone walls oozed evil as he walked past.
Ian made his way to the dark cells and saw the tortured souls that lie beneath the broken and bruised skin of the people inside. It made him sad knowing he couldn't do anything about it. He walked past the iron bars of the cells and actually saw on man trying to chew his way out, such was the desperation of this place. Souls that were unattached to their human hosts swirled around the prison like sharks at a feeding frenzy.
He reached the cell he wanted and stepped in. The girl who lay huddled in the corner was whimpering slightly. Her small white leather jacket was torn to shreds, her grey jeans sliced and soaked with her blood and the piece of Ian's jacket tied tightly around her side was dark red.
"Death," Ian murmured and she looked up with those bright blue eyes of hers.
"I-Ian..." Her voice got caught in her throat as her pale lips trembled. "What's happening? Why are you here?"
Ian smiled sadly. "He's turtoring me as we speak," her eyes widened and she gasped. Ian held up his hand. "I can't feel it, it's happening to my body, not my soul."
"But the property is still the same! You're getting tortured!"
Ian walked over to her and placed his arm around her shoulders, he had to hold his arm in place otherwise it would go right through her. "It's okay, I can't be hurt in this form and you are the only one who can see me. I can go anywhere I want as long as it is within two hours. If I stay out longer, my body dies."
Death smiled slightly. "Do you know that from experience?"
Ian smiled, a genuine, happy smile. "Experience. A friend of mine, Ren Clairvoyant, had to being me back."
"Who's Ren Clairvoyant?"
"Remember when I told you to find the fault line? I was with him that day. He was watching over me to make sure I could come back in time. He's a psychic, like me but he can call spirits and take them out."
"Call spirits?" She was genuinely curious about his life, about his friends and Ian thought it must be helping her through the shock.
"See, if there is a person who has been deceased for under four weeks, Ren can call the spirit back to the body. If the body is in an okay shape, like," he thought for a moment. "I had a friend who had his throat slit. The doctor thought I was crazy when I asked him to sew his neck back up but he did it. Then Ren called his spirit back to his body. His heart started pumping again, his lungs were taking oxygen and his brain started thinking. The first thing he said was, 'I just saw my dead momma!' But his neck was still bleeding because his heart was working. That proved some difficulty so we just sealed it with hot wax."
Death laughed. "I love it how you say it so casually!" Her laughter stopped and she gasped .
"What's wrong?" Ian said as he looked into her soul. She was in pain, more pain than she was showing. Her soul was tired and strained as it tried to hold onto its host. That was not a good sign.
"Stupid... Rib... Why... Do you... Have... To... Be so.... God... Damn... Broken...?"
He looked at the door and saw it was opening. A man with a funny mustache walked in and dragged Ian's soulless body in behind him. "Sweetheart, I think he's dead... I just love makin' life more inter'stin' for people like ya self." He had a strange accent but Ian couldn't place it... Texan, maybe?
"I'M SO DEAD RIGHT NOW YOU STUPID MORON!" Ian shouted and Death laughed, then grimaced.
"What ya laughin' 'bout?" He said with a glare.
"You're mustache is stupid." She told him, glancing at Ian menacingly. "You're accent is stupid too."
Mustache man walked in and rolled his sleeves up on his arms. "Whatcha say 'bout my mustache?"
Ian's soul attached itself to his body and stood up behind Mustache Man.
Ian reached out and snagged Mustache Man by his throat, ignoring all the pain in his body and threw him against the wall. He did it again and again until he went limp. Then he turned to Death and smiled. "Let's go!"


  1. Why are you making me laugh when I'm supposed to be asleep??????????¿¿¿¿
    Seeing Texan accents written always amuses me...

    1. It might just be me, but I think they're kinda hard to do. Because I'm an Aussie and I've never heard a Texan before...

      Sad, I know!

  2. Yay!!! I hope you actually escape this time! :D

  3. This is so cool! I'm really starting to get attached to Ian...
    Though, if your writing is anything like mine, I'll soon regret that I ever said that...

  4. I'm catching up on the chapters right now. I'm really behind :O