One Line At a Time!

Ok, this has been done before but I just want to see how this one turns out.

I'll start the story off with a line and then another member adds their own, and the next member adds another, and ....you probably get it!

So we should see a story unfolding before us!


Here it goes:


As I walked down the hallway, all I could feel was the wind spiralling past.

 

No ceiling was evident and the steel grey sky roiled above. A dream?

 

Surely it can't be; can it? The trees lean back and forth. The storm is growing.

 

The branches scraped the wallpaper leaving gashes in the walls.

 

i rounded a corner as the wind became desperate and saw a red wooden door not thirty metres distant.

 

Thirty meters? I thought to myself. Where am I? The Pentagon?

 

as i began to walk to the door, it appeared to get closer than it should - as though it was moving towards me at the same pace. "**** is is weird" i muttered under my breath.

 

As I tread with careful steps, the sound of a woman's laughter shot passed my ear and headed towards the door.

 

Then, suddenly, the laughter stopped, and there was a gunshot, and the smell of fresh earth hung in the air.

 

I knew with dread certainty that beyond the door lay death; the only question was whether or not that death was mine. I turned to leave, but the passage back was now only darkness.

 

And not only darkness--it was as though the hallway behind me had dissolved into non-existence, and when I looked back, it seemed that I was standing on the edge of a cliff leading to nowhere, nothing, and all existence was the hallway from which I had turned, and that red door, beckoning.

 

I knew I had no choice but to open it. The knowledge did not lessen my fear. I slowly, slowly, raised my hand to the doorknob. It was brass, and so cold the skin of my hand froze to its surface. No turning back now, not even into the nothingness. I opened the door.

 

That's when I saw her body, cold and hard, soaking wet, covered with mud, and very, very dead.

 

I would like to say that I felt sadness. That her terrible beauty moved me to passionate tears. But I felt only relief. Whatever deadly storm had gathered me in its wake, it had not been here for me. I was alive.

 

I stood, shocked, when suddenly, I heard the sound of sirens, growing louder.

 

Slowly but surely, reality started to slide into focus. Everything I thought was real turned out to be an hallucination. I stood over her body, clutching the baseball bat I had beaten her with. Peering into her vacant stare as she lay in the bath tub. The gun I had used to finished her off lay on the floor.

 

I relayed the unfolding of the scenes back and forth amidst the mist of my brain.

 

A cop bursts through the door.

 

I stared at the officer, puzzled. He had not been surprised to see me. Had not assumed I was the killer. Had not made any mention of the fact that I held the murder weapon in my... but when I looked down I discovered I wasn't actually holding it. The blood-soaked bat and the gun both lay by the bath. The only thing in my hand was a police-issue revolver.

 

"Are you OK sir?"
"Err yeah I'm fine" I say while I shake my head.
Why am I getting these hallucinations? It's ever since these murders have started happening. I've got to get to the bottom of this. I've got to protect the city, and myself.

 

Soon, after the incident with the banana and the porcupine, I was running for my life. Let me tell you about the banana and the porcupine, and how these were connected to the woman in the bathtub and the officer's indifference to my apparent commission of the murder.

 

Unknown Editor
[Feeds the film backward. What the . . . This guy's an idiot. Vague construction sounds. Indifference, indeed.
--No, wait. It was BlackBriar . . . It was a hit . . . Don't you see? The dude wasn't really a cop.
Will somebody shut that guy up? The sound of packing tape unrolling and then muffled speech.. That's better. Hammering sounds.
Let me just change this user name to G-Nat. Done.]

The hallucinations weave in and out of my mind. Something about a porcupine and his singing banana and then . . .

"I said drop the bat!!!" There is noticable tension in the cop's arms.
I'm gripping the bloody bat and the cop's head looks like a nice round baseball.

 

A FRESH START

Kendrie Phillips watched in dismay as her flight began to taxi away from the gate without her.

 

How the aeroplane had managed to fit itself into a taxi was an issue best left unexplored.

 

That inane little joke wobbled in her head for a while. Of course, she knew that taxi meant "to move" instead of the yellow vehicle that made travel convenient.