The Holder of Vagrancy

This is my first blog entry, if you're too lazy to move your eyes an inch to the right to find out. I don't expect to get many follows, unless I post a link on 4chan or something. I made this blog thing mainly just to share ideas, works of mine, etc. I'm mainly a writer as far as creative stuff goes, but I also do my own fair share of drawing, though most of it is horrible. I also play the violin, though I kinda suck with it. So, without further ado, allow me to post a short story I wrote. I personally find it kinda lame. I wrote it for the Holders Series, but decided not to even submit it. You can find the Holders at www.theholders.org. It's exciting at first, then it gets kinda lame, then gets really awesome again. I think mine would make it up, seeing as how "the holder of the boom" made it on, but I don't want to put this up anywhere, except here. Here, I can do this because it's for all my works that are typed up. Even if they are bad works, explicit, or both. I don't like this mainly because a few of the steps are kinda gay. I really dislike the part with the hjomeless man, but I really don't want to rewrite it. I don't see much of a point, I guess. Anyways, here goes. The Holder of Vagrancy.

In any city, in any country, visit any halfway house or mental institution and ask the worker at the desk to see someone called “The Holder of Vagrancy”. The worker should tell you to leave immediately. If he tells you to wait a second, then as soon as his back is turned, run, and never return, lest he manages to touch you. If he does tell you to go, apologize, and leave. Come back in a few minutes and say you forgot something. The worker will ask you to follow him to the lost and found. This is your last chance to leave. Just tell him that whatever you said you lost wasn’t important, and you didn’t want to be a hassle. Leave, and don’t come back. If you have not given up, follow him. He will show you to a room and tell you to walk in. Do not enter the door, nor break eye contact with him. You will stand there for a few minutes, until he sighs and continues onwards. Follow him until you find a fork in the hallway. Do not look down either one unless you wish to join all the other Seekers that have failed in their quest. Wait until the worker walks down one of the forks. Take the other one.
It is now safe to look up, to find yourself in a seemingly endless hallway, doors on either side, stretching into oblivion. You will hear the sound of paper rustling constantly as you walk down the hall. If it stops at any time, stand still and shout, “I only wish to stay for the night!” If it does not continue, find a weapon. It will be a long fight to the door.
Keep walking down the hallway until you reach the 538th door. It does not matter which side of the hall it is on. Do not open the door, as there is no need, and you will only experience endless torment. Simply walk through it. The room will be small and dimly lit. There will be a pile of rags in the corner. After a few minutes of standing still, the rags shall speak in a loud, slurred voice, “Who’s there?” Do not answer. The thing under the rags, which might be a man, will sit up. He is old, ragged, and dirty. He will sway slowly, holding a vodka bottle. He will ask you what you want. Respond to this only with “How do they sleep when the nights are long?” Ask anything but this, and take his place. After you have asked this question, he will explain exactly how each one of them sleeps.
When he is done, and if you are still sane, he will offer you a drink from his bottle. Take the bottle and drain it of the remainder of its contents, then smash the bottom of the bottle of against the wall. Use the makeshift knife to kill him. Do not worry, as he will not resist. You must bleed him out, making no cut deeper than a half-inch. When you are done, the alcohol shall overwhelm you and you will black out.
When you come to, you will have a terrible hangover and be in the alleyway closest to wherever you live, looking incredibly homeless. The bottle clutched in your hand is object 50 of 538. Whatever you put in it will never run out. If it does, they will already have been brought together, and it will be too late for that to matter.

I wrote this a while ago, and I realize now how LAME of an object that is. A bottle? Really? Also, "looking incredibly homeless" is kinda a lame description. So I guess I started my blog off with a good laugh. I hope this blog spirals downwards into horror, grotesque things, and pain. In a good way.

1 comment:

  1. dear diary,
    mood ,: apathetic
    my life is spiraling downwards, couldnt get enough money to go to the blood red romance and suffocate me dry concert, it sucks cuz they play some of my favorite songs, like stab my heart because i love you, or rip apart my soul... and of course stabby rip stab stab, and it doesnt help that i couldnt get my hair to do that flippy thing either, like that guy from that band can do, somedays... IM AN EMO KID NON COMFORMING AS CAN BE YOU'D BE NON CONFORMING TOO IF YOU LOOKED JUST LIKE ME IVE GOT PAINT ON MY NAILS AND MAKEUP ON MY FACE, IM ALMOST EMO ENOUGH TO START SHAVING MY LEGS, CUZ I FEEL REAL DEEP WHEN IM DRESSING IN DRAG, I CALL IT FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION, MOST JUST CALL ME A FAG, CUZ OUR DUDES LOOK LIKE CHICKS AND OUR CHICKS LOOK LIKE DYKES, CUZ EMO IS ONE STEP BELOW TRANSVESTITE... o..O