Well to start, it's been a while since I last wrote a story, but lately I've had a few thoughts swirling around in my head, so I figure, "Hey, where better to try to push out a story than on the site that I first learned to love writing?"
And here it goes. So far I don't really have a name for it, thus the title for the thread.
Please allow me time to get in about 4 extra posts before posting any criticism, that way I can fill it in as I go along.
Chapter 1
He had always hated waiting in line. Standing still always made him feel a little uneasy. He didn't know where he picked up the slight quirk that made him shift back and forth on his feet. Sometimes he thought it annoyed people, combined with his habit of glancing to a side when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, or heard a sound in a certain direction. He knew it had annoyed Jen, his second to last girlfriend.
His name was Zack. He had a love of hot cars, and even hotter women. Unfortunately, he tended to strike out when the heat got too hot.
His car had been the point of much argument between him and a few of his girlfriends. They had argued that he loved the car more than he loved them. With Sarah that had been true, but Eve didn't have the ground to say that.
He drove a black and green 1975 Ford Cobra, with plenty of custom modifications to it, with just as many tweaks as he had in his computer. Though he was a car and computer guy, many people only saw the personification of his auto-maniacal personality, and not that of his nerd roots. As far as the women were concerned, the car was in the clear, but computers in the red.
There had been one girl that he had been interested in because of her virtual know-how, but unfortunately she thought he was just another jock wanting to have fun at her expense. The Calculus book she had thrown into his face had been heavy and painful. The bruise had lasted for a month, and it was a mistake he wasn't in a hurry to reenact.
He was waiting in line for the purchase of a new muffler for his car. Above all else, he hated the junk cars with the loud mufflers. They wanted the sound of a drag racer with the engine of a stock. Few men in this current day realized that the real power and the visceral feel of the car came from the engine, not the muffler. There was a certain primal satisfaction downshifting the car and hearing the roar of the engine, much like a lion in his jungle. The warning roar of the predator, giving his prey enough time to escape, so as to provide entertainment enough for the Pride, while at the same time commanding respect from those in the pack.
He knew he was odd, he always referred to his car as a "she" and always tried to feel out the way the car liked to be handled. He could swear that the car purred the most when the tank was full, there was fresh oil in her system, and she had new spark plugs. Buying new tires was like buying lingerie for a women; it just increased her sex appeal.
Although he was daydreaming about his car, he still felt on edge, as if something was going to happen. Then again, he had been standing in line for about ten minutes now, and the line was still moving slowly. He would have just bought the part for his car on the internet, but there was something magical about purchasing it in person, the feel of the part as he carried it out to his car, and assured her that the surgery would make her feel much better.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone flick up a cigarette. He disliked smokers because of the impurities which it pumped into one's system, and the fact that many were too ignorant to these facts. It was just as bad as cutting in his book: self destruction in order to release those few enzymes so that something could be released. The end result was only more despair and more self-destruction.
What kind of life was that, to take everything so seriously that one collapsed in on themselves? It was better to have fun in your exploits than to crash and burn.
Speaking of crash and burning, he wondered why the person had lit the cigarette. After all, they were in an auto store, quite close to the oil. There were signs everywhere about the store to not smoke, as there were flammable liquids skewered across the store.
He turned to ask the person to put out the cigarette. The odd thing about this was that when he turned to do this, there wasn't a person. There was only a lighter falling through the air...and its trajectory placed it dangerously close to the oil....
He watched almost as if he were witnessing a movie; powerless to stop the events that were about to unfold.
First the oil ignited. As he saw the clerk dive for the extinguisher, the fire had already spread to the aerosol spray paint cans. He knew what was coming when the fire got close to the cans, so he dove for some cover behind one of the shelves. It wasn't the best shelter, but given the circumstances he'd rather have some cover rather than none. He noticed the panic at the front of the store, as people started trying to all cram out of the door at once. Such a sight dated back to man's primal instinct relating to the concept of thunder and lightning. Something they knew could cause harm, and they fled like frightened chickens.
As for Zack, he wasn't fond of the idea of dying either, but for some reason he was fascinated by the scene. The flames were quite intense, and now a column of fire was shooting up a corner of the room.
For some reason he felt as if the scene were familiar, in a distant way. Like...it felt right. He also felt as if there were an alien presence in the flames, one which understood him, one which embraced his feelings.
He shook his head for a second to clear it of that seductive feeling. He didn't have the time to contemplate his feelings towards the flame, his number one priority was escaping from this ordeal alive.
He worked his way toward the door, he could feel the smoke clawing at his lungs. He hunched down lower. The heat was quite stifling, he could feel the sweat beading on the tips of his hair strands.
He saw the door in front of him, he thought he could make out some flashing lights outside of the door, but that may have just been the chemicals burning in the air. Without warning, the ceiling crashed down in front of him. It was an odd crash though. It didn't seem like it caved in, it looked as if it had cushioned its fall...
...cushioned it's fall? He started thinking about how badly the chemicals must have affected his mind.
"Human. Why did you not run with the rest of your pitiful species?" A deep voice intoned into his mind, much like a hammer ringing against steel. It was a proud, voice that betrayed a hint of a temper.
"Well, for starters my name's Zack, my hallucinatory friend. And even I don't know why I didn't run. Perhaps it's my time to die?" It was true. He wasn't stressed about dying, his only fear was that his car would probably go to someone who didn't appreciate it as much as he did.
"Insolent human! I am no hallucination! I am the mighty Lucifurio!"
"Ahh, so you're here to take me to hell. S'cool. Well, I guess it's hot, but then again, so's here." He could tell he was making this hallucination a little angry.
"You humans and your FABLES! You make us out to be messengers of death now?"
"Woah fella, so you aren't here to take my life? Even though I don't mind dying, I would prefer to live."
"You're lucky I am here to help you, you insolent human, or else your pitiful world would be engulfed in flames far worse than this!"
"So this is a type of 'save the dude save the world' type of thing? Coolios. And what do you mean by that statement, anyways?"
"You talk too much human! Now SLEEP!"
"Ah, I see. This is where the hallucination ends, and the white light comes to ta...."
And the memory became blank after that moment. It was not until a few hours later that he would regain consciousness. Apparently the paramedics and the fire department had arrived, and had been amazed that he was still alive. They said that he was laying curled up in the one spot of the floor that the flames hadn't touched.
As he lay in the hospital bed, he could do nothing but contemplate just what exactly that hallucination had meant. That and whether or not his car was fine, which the nurse constantly assured him every time he asked.
*marked for future chapters*
