Post by Deleted on Jun 26, 2016 19:17:27 GMT
Caroline May: “Tell me about the dream, James?”
He lay flat out on the chaise lounge, staring at the roof of May’s office. She sat by his side, ass half on/off the chair, notebook open, and pen in hand, ready to explore the mind of James Locke. He readjusted himself, so his hands both rested behind his head. King closed his eyes.
King: “Nightmare…”
[IN HIS HEAD] The hallway is long and narrow, and a wheelchair rests on its side, and beds unused lie against the walls of the corridors. The lights flicker on and off, and standing at one end of the hallway is King. The place has a very eerie and outdated feeling to it. He walks cautiously through the abandoned asylum hallway.
King: “He appears out of nowhere, ready to kill. Ready to destroy me.”
[IN HIS HEAD] A monster, a brute of a man enters into the hallway behind King. He holds two razor-sharp tactical knives, both dripping crimson red. His face is barely visible, covered by dirt and blood and the locks of his stringy, unclean hair. The monster lets out an ear-rattling roar and begins to chase King as King breaks into a run in the opposite direction.
King: “He cannot catch me ‘cause he is slower than me.”
[IN HIS HEAD] He’s trying to outrun his monster, who is in full pursuit down hallways that seem to have no end. The monster's roar is fading, as he cannot keep up with King. A sizeable gap has formed between the two, and the monster is getting slower, more tired than King is.
King: “He grows tired quickly; he needed to catch me fast, right off the bat, ‘cause over time, his body wears out. His endurance, his stamina were no match for mine.”
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster drops to one knee, breathing heavily and growing frustrated that he could not catch his victim. King is no longer running, but now standing in front of his monster studying him. The monster has dropped his tactical knives, no longer having the energy to hold on. The monster is frustrated as he takes lazy swings at King, missing each throw.
King: “See, and this becomes the part where the nightmare no longer exists. It’s become a dream. With my speed, and my cardio far greater, he, for all the composure he had, is now gone and tossed out the window, you see. He had thought this would be easy. His game plan was solid, but I took him off his game.”
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster's roar had turned into a cry because no longer was there just one King but many. Laughter and voices mocked the monster as he couldn’t focus and find the real King.
King: “There was too much going on, too much happening at once, and he lost his focus on me.”
Caroline May: “What did you do, King? How were you able to overcome the monster, to defeat it?”
King: “I killed it.”
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster was weak. The monster was vulnerable as he kneeled down, crying into the palm of his hands. King stood behind him and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head upwards. King placed his forearm around the throat of the monster and began to strangle the life out of it.
King: “He fought and fought, but the fight was short-lived. He couldn’t prevent it or stop it.
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster was dead when King let go of it.
Caroline May: “Why did you kill him?
He opens his eyes and sits up.
King: “Cause’ it is how it works and has always worked. It was me or him; there was no other way. The streets taught me, prison taught me that it’s either me or him, always, and I chose me.”
Caroline studies him.
King: “It’s a dog eat, dog world, and Simon was right. I forgot that and Lord Blake needs to learn that.”
King stands up, done with the therapy session.
Caroline May: “Wait!”
King walks out of the room.
He lay flat out on the chaise lounge, staring at the roof of May’s office. She sat by his side, ass half on/off the chair, notebook open, and pen in hand, ready to explore the mind of James Locke. He readjusted himself, so his hands both rested behind his head. King closed his eyes.
King: “Nightmare…”
[IN HIS HEAD] The hallway is long and narrow, and a wheelchair rests on its side, and beds unused lie against the walls of the corridors. The lights flicker on and off, and standing at one end of the hallway is King. The place has a very eerie and outdated feeling to it. He walks cautiously through the abandoned asylum hallway.
King: “He appears out of nowhere, ready to kill. Ready to destroy me.”
[IN HIS HEAD] A monster, a brute of a man enters into the hallway behind King. He holds two razor-sharp tactical knives, both dripping crimson red. His face is barely visible, covered by dirt and blood and the locks of his stringy, unclean hair. The monster lets out an ear-rattling roar and begins to chase King as King breaks into a run in the opposite direction.
King: “He cannot catch me ‘cause he is slower than me.”
[IN HIS HEAD] He’s trying to outrun his monster, who is in full pursuit down hallways that seem to have no end. The monster's roar is fading, as he cannot keep up with King. A sizeable gap has formed between the two, and the monster is getting slower, more tired than King is.
King: “He grows tired quickly; he needed to catch me fast, right off the bat, ‘cause over time, his body wears out. His endurance, his stamina were no match for mine.”
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster drops to one knee, breathing heavily and growing frustrated that he could not catch his victim. King is no longer running, but now standing in front of his monster studying him. The monster has dropped his tactical knives, no longer having the energy to hold on. The monster is frustrated as he takes lazy swings at King, missing each throw.
King: “See, and this becomes the part where the nightmare no longer exists. It’s become a dream. With my speed, and my cardio far greater, he, for all the composure he had, is now gone and tossed out the window, you see. He had thought this would be easy. His game plan was solid, but I took him off his game.”
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster's roar had turned into a cry because no longer was there just one King but many. Laughter and voices mocked the monster as he couldn’t focus and find the real King.
King: “There was too much going on, too much happening at once, and he lost his focus on me.”
Caroline May: “What did you do, King? How were you able to overcome the monster, to defeat it?”
King: “I killed it.”
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster was weak. The monster was vulnerable as he kneeled down, crying into the palm of his hands. King stood behind him and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head upwards. King placed his forearm around the throat of the monster and began to strangle the life out of it.
King: “He fought and fought, but the fight was short-lived. He couldn’t prevent it or stop it.
[IN HIS HEAD] The monster was dead when King let go of it.
Caroline May: “Why did you kill him?
He opens his eyes and sits up.
King: “Cause’ it is how it works and has always worked. It was me or him; there was no other way. The streets taught me, prison taught me that it’s either me or him, always, and I chose me.”
Caroline studies him.
King: “It’s a dog eat, dog world, and Simon was right. I forgot that and Lord Blake needs to learn that.”
King stands up, done with the therapy session.
Caroline May: “Wait!”
King walks out of the room.
