Randall
So... I'm going to start a story called "Randall", continue it.
"RULES" -
- No ginormous posts. You get what I'm saying! Hell, don't hesitate to post a single sentence.
- Try to keep the "randomness" meter from going above, say... a "7/10". Break the fourth wall if you want to.
- You're not allowed to make two consecutive posts.
This should be kind of like a text adventure of sorts.
So... let's get on with it!
***
PROFILE - RANDALL - A 20 year old depressed misanthrope. He likes being alone. He's a concept designer for an indie game company. But he's seeking a carreer in music. Otherwise, he has no life.
Randall wakes up in a deserted super market, and he looks around. Seems empty. He looks out the windows, it's late at night. He calls out, there definately is no one there. The silence is creepy. He heads for the door, and realizes that it's locked.
"God, another dream."
He tries to wake up, to no avail. He hopes it's not real. He searches for a bathroom, and the door's locked as well.
He suddenly hears a knocking sound from one of the windows.
He's very, very scared.
***
"RULES" -
- No ginormous posts. You get what I'm saying! Hell, don't hesitate to post a single sentence.
- Try to keep the "randomness" meter from going above, say... a "7/10". Break the fourth wall if you want to.
- You're not allowed to make two consecutive posts.
This should be kind of like a text adventure of sorts.
So... let's get on with it!
***
PROFILE - RANDALL - A 20 year old depressed misanthrope. He likes being alone. He's a concept designer for an indie game company. But he's seeking a carreer in music. Otherwise, he has no life.
Randall wakes up in a deserted super market, and he looks around. Seems empty. He looks out the windows, it's late at night. He calls out, there definately is no one there. The silence is creepy. He heads for the door, and realizes that it's locked.
"God, another dream."
He tries to wake up, to no avail. He hopes it's not real. He searches for a bathroom, and the door's locked as well.
He suddenly hears a knocking sound from one of the windows.
He's very, very scared.
***
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They knocked again. Louder, this time; not fast but the rapping definitely lasted longer this time.
Randall hid, not wanting to be caught there, but knocking persisted; it's tempo never increasing but still growing ever louder, whoever was wrapping seemed almost certain to break the window if they didn't stop.
Though he'd earlier suspected some security guard or even an off duty member of staff he now grew ever more certain that whomever it was out there was not somebody he wanted to come face to face with.
When the noise next stopped he didn't allow himself that sigh of relief. The silence was now deafening and had somehow become far more ominous than it had before.
But suddenly the glass shatters completely.
Silence again.
Randall was too scared to make a move, so he kept staring at where the glass had broken.
There was no one there. Cautiously, he looked around for a weapon. He found a rather sharp kitchen knife, and called out - "Hello?"
No response. He called out a few more times before approaching the window, against his better judgement. There really was nothing there.
But at least he found his way out.
He asks again, "Who's there?" but still no reply.
He looks out and sees...
A black humanoid creature.
It tilts it's head possibly in curiosity. Randal stares, then finds himself saying, "Why didn't you answer?"
It turns it's head up toward the sky, as does he, and he sees a star, shining awful bright, seeming to create something like that of a spotlight on the creature.
It darts off at a possible fifty or sixty miles per hour. Randal continues to stare at the light, which was indeed a bad choice.
A red beam emits from the light, turning a bush into plasma. Seeing this, Randal dashes off for his dear life and hides in a telephone booth.
Some short distance away the bushes smouldered, but in the centre, where they'd been incinerated, the ground was molten. Randall couldn’t see this from where he crouched but he had to guess it was the case from the glow that simply wouldn't fade.
There was a faint but high pitched whining that seemed to come from no place in particular and seconds later the ground began to rumble; but not the random raucous rumbling of any other tremor but a continuous, small and pneumatic one as if there was heavy machinery beneath the tarmac.
The whining continued to grow louder but the rumbling, which itself was faint to begin with, began to subside. When it stopped the noise was at its loudest and least bearable; Randall dropped the knife and cupped his ears.
He only realised that this, too had ceased when once again he was faced with the sound of extraordinary silence. But this time he realised just how extra ordinary it was; there were no noises in the distance, no cars rumbling, no sound of generators or even the whir of the supermarket's freezers. There was nothing to be heard except the sound of his own thoughts, which should have been racing but he found that not a single idea was occurring to him.
Not until he saw the black thing had returned. And this time it wasn't alone.
Around him the ground began to open as more things, making identical silhouettes against the distant faint moon light dug themselves out of the ground.
The light in the sky ceases movement. Is it cowering? Is it retreating?
An instant later, the light draws nearer and nearer to the ground. The image of it's true identity begins to come into focus.
It looks like a large silver football, only more long, and draped in strips of some sort of translucent solid.
Suddenly realization comes to Randall; it's just like any other sci-fi movie; creatures invade from the sky, years ahead of Earth in technological experience.
It finally reaches the ground. The black figures begin to form a line in front of it. Are these things trying to save him? He could only sit and wait to see what would happen next...