A World Beyond (IC)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...

Well, that's an exaggeration, as you'll read on. But not by much.

Jasper, California.

A small, sleepy mining town. An old town too, first occupied by the Indians, and then the Mexicans, and finally the Americans.

At 6:45 AM on Saturday, December 17, every last human disappeared. Simply was there one moment, and gone the very next.

Well, not every human...

Some stayed. Some did not disappear. A man suddenly appeared in the middle of the town square five minutes after the disappearances, sitting down on a bench and glancing at his watch.

This man was short, with a small mustache and beard. His features showed he was white, and wore a immaculate business suit. When you got down to it, everything about this man was quite neat. Neatly kept hair, neatly kept mustache, neat suit, neat boots...

He seemed to be waiting for something. It was still dark out, not even being 4 AM in the winter, after all. Speaking of winter, it was quite chilly out. Not snowing, but a good coat was advised. It made it stranger that this man did not wear a coat, and just his suit.

Some unfortunate humans, the ones who stayed, would find the world was bigger than they thought...

[New East Ireland]

Click... Click... Click...

Another boring day of doing paperwork. The school secretary was out nursing her child, or something, so Damien was stuck doing the secretary-type things, which were, as one might guess, extremely boring. Over the course of the last two days, Damien wondered if the school even needed a secretary for these kinds of things. He was, of course, the principal, so that justified him to make the students do the secretary-type things. But he decided not to, seeing as how he would only get in more trouble with the parents of the high-schoolers. Well, "brats" is what Damien called them.

His head in a state of boring nothingness, Damien jumped up when he noticed that Mrs. Hacker, the science teacher, had received a letter. Taking it, Damien strode out of the office and down the hall to the lab. Not noticing the lack of students, he burst into the lab and held out the letter. "Mrs. Hacker, you have a..."

She was gone. Damien was confused; Mrs. Hacker was always in her room. Come to think of it, so were the students. With no students, or teachers, Damien did the one thing he had always wanted to do; he ran into the girls' locker room.

"Empty? Odd. Normally all of the sixteen-year old girls are in here playing gossip and jumping around in tight shorts... Man, it was a great idea to put that camera in here."

After a while of snooping through lockers, Damien walked out of the school, and noticed that the parking lot was empty.

"Double odd."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Vernon was driving down the road in a police car he may or may not have stolen, making racecar noises while he did so. His partner's head was firmly buried in his hands, weeping silently. Another day of Detective Inspector Cartwright. Another day of bad jokes, clown shoes, and lots and lots of Highlight magazine riddles. The only thing that made up for it was that Vernon was motherfucking genius, not he used his genius for anything other then figuring out the 23 flavors of Dr. Pepper over an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba! Vernon's favorite was Broby, by the way.

"PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW PLBH PLBH PEEEEEEW BRRRRRRRRRR!" Vernon yelled, making said racecar noises with his tongue in the most annoying way possible. Really, you would go insane spending an hour with him, as people frequently did. His own mother, father, and two daughters won't even call him anymore. That probably has something to do with the Exploding Turkey Incident of '09, but Vernon would never admit it.

"Vernon..." Officer Horn, his partner, mumbled, pulling his head out of his hands. Vernon looked over at him.

"Yes Timo..." he began, before noticing that his partner was gone, "Timothy? You there?"

Vernon looked down. Timothy's red lightsaber toy lay on the ground. Timothy never went anywhere without it. Something here was wrong...

He crashed his car into the side of the high school, becoming enveloped in the airbag.

"Driving is fun."

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

Mark Ameriga, the amoral asshole lawyer, was ensuring justice was served by passing out on his couch with a bottle of vodka in his hand. He would not wake up until morning unless someone forced him awake.

[Ameriganastan]

Earl Mason stirred from his sleep, instantly reaching for the bottle of Jim Beam on his nightstand. And much to his annoyance, he found it was empty.

"Just great. Gotta face the morning sober. Didn't really want to do that. Might as well go down to the store and get some more before work."

He sighed and quickly got up, getting into his dirty looking jumpsuit, and walking outside, to his even dirtier looking old green Chevy truck, walking with his telltale limp. Climbing inside, he turned the key...and nothing happened. He turned it again, and still got nothing.

"Don't make me get the wrench..."

He tried for a third time, and still got nothing. Rubbing his head in annoyance, he dug around a toolbox in the passenger seat, pulled out a large wrench, and whacked the dashboard, the old clunker finally starting up. Smirking in victory, he headed down to the store, barely noticing the utter lack of people around town. He didn't care. He hated people anyway. Arriving a few moments later, he limped to the back, grabbed a bottle and walked up to the counter, setting it down.

"Marvin, get your ass out here. I've got a special thirst going on."

He stood there for a few moments, tapping his foot in annoyance.

"Marvin! You passed out back there again? I swear, that bastard is a drunk, that gives drunks like me, a bad name."

Tired of waiting, he simply left the money on the counter, and headed outside, cracking the bottle open, and taking a sip.

"Seems awful dead around here today."

[New East Ireland]

Noticing the car-crash, Damien walked over to the police cruiser, and knocked on the window. "Alright, listen buddy, I've been doing secretary-type stuff all day, and crunching numbers on a new wall for the school is not what I had in mind. So, what's your name? I wanna sue."

[Al-Harakut al-Islami]

Annette sighed.
She was bored. Sitting under a tree in the park, Annette put her headphones in her ears and opened up the novel she was carrying, and started to read.

It was getting late -- almost dusk. It was terrible reading light, but she decided to stay where she was rather than return to her parents' friends' house. She didn't much like her parents, or her perfect older sister, or their old friends. She didn't like the way they talked down to her, with such ferocious condescension they'd have only with someone they'd consider to be a child. She didn't like the way her parents spoke about her -- she was the "naughty one," the "rebel," the "one who didn't know her place" -- and she didn't like the way her parents laughed about it.

She didn't like her older sister. Her sister was everything Annette wasn't -- confident, straight, tall, Christian, good-natured, funny, well-liked, and loved by her parents. She was the perfect daughter to her parents, and excellent at entertaining their friends.

Annette was quiet; meek; anti-social; Muslim; bisexual; cold-natured. She didn't laugh, or sing, or speak to make people happy. She was physically small. She didn't care about their condescending old friends.
Annette loved her books. She loved her art. She loved her music. She loved school.
She did not love her parents, or her sister, or the people she was forced to associate with because of them.

Annette was a straight-A student, who worked on her school assignments rather than dealing with people. If her parents valued grades over image, then they would love her more than they loved her perfect older sister. She had tried marijuana before, but found it unsatisfying.

She stopped thinking, and started humming to the tune of the music in her MP3 Player. She reached into her backpack, pulled out an apple, and started eating.
Maybe something worthwhile will happen, maybe someone worth talking to show up at some point in this town...

[Metanih]

Hailey Jeninson woke up, upset for no apparent reason. She looked around for her parents, slightly happy that they were gone. She could do anything she wanted for now. Of course, she didn't know they wouldn't be coming back. She called her friends. No answer. I sure as hell hope this is not some half-year late surprise birthday party. I would probably accidently stab someone. she thought, touching the knife in her pocket. Or you could stab someone on purpose. one of her voices told her. The demon. The angel rarely spoke, it seemed to want Hailey to do good on her own.
Of course, doing her best to thwart the surprise party that she knew was coming, she left the house, and quickly realized something was wrong. No cars, during a rush hour time period. No neighbors in their lawns. Nothing. This is a bit elaborate for me.... But i have no doubt my parents would try something idiotic like this. Well, if everyone is gone, you could have some fun! Do you have any drugs? Hailey sighed. This would be a long day it seemed, as Hailey walked into the town square, newly acquired pot in her hands.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Noticing the car-crash, Damien walked over to the police cruiser, and knocked on the window. "Alright, listen buddy, I've been doing secretary-type stuff all day, and crunching numbers on a new wall for the school is not what I had in mind. So, what's your name? I wanna sue."

Vernon stepped out of the cruiser, giggling a six year old who just pushed his mother off the steps, breaking her neck, before going to praise Satan. Six year olds do that, right? That's what I did as a child, but then again, one could call me "special". Just kidding, of course. I used a pipe, not stairs.

"Oh, hello there Principal Seward!" Vernon said with a smile. He offered Damien his left hand, whose sleeve was filled to the brim with brightly colored handkerchiefs, like that old magic trick: Strangle Your Assistant to Death and Escape to Mexico. Vernon didn't know that trick of course, he just liked handkerchiefs and bright colors. He was wearing a brown trench coat this morning, as it was rather chilly, but underneath it, was his dark blue Hawaiian shirt with the white flowers. His favorite. He wore atop his head his straw hat, which was wrapped in a blue band. Under his trench coat and on his legs, were a pair of khaki shorts. And on his feet... bright red, Ronald McDonald-style, clown shoes, even with yellow laces. He would have worn a red clown nose too if not for... oh wait, he was totally wearing a red clown nose too.

"I remember you from when I suspected you of a rape two years back! Turned out it was a cop, but you know, your name has turned up a few times since then... anyways, guten tag!"

[New East Ireland]

"Oh, hello there Principal Seward!" Vernon said with a smile. Blah, blah, blah. "I remember you from when I suspected you of a rape two years back! Turned out it was a cop, but you know, your name has turned up a few times since then... anyways, guten tag!"

Damien nodded. "Oh, yeah. Well, that cop did have it coming when he threatened to give me a parking ticket... Anyways, we should go down to the town square and file a damage report. Maybe I can get some money out of it. You'll have to come to, since you're a witness..."

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Oh, hello there Principal Seward!" Vernon said with a smile. Blah, blah, blah. "I remember you from when I suspected you of a rape two years back! Turned out it was a cop, but you know, your name has turned up a few times since then... anyways, guten tag!"

Damien nodded. "Oh, yeah. Well, that cop did have it coming when he threatened to give me a parking ticket... Anyways, we should go down to the town square and file a damage report. Maybe I can get some money out of it. You'll have to come to, since you're a witness..."

Vernon nodded back, taking a mental note that Damien had just admitted to two crimes. He'd bring that up with Timothy later, one he found that Star Wars geek of course. Wherever could his partner be? Maybe he went home to his husband, Mal? It was possible, but why would he jump out of a moving car to do so? Why hadn't Vernon heard him? How'd he do it so fast? Why am I still asking questions? He'd have to check the car for evidence once he got back from his excursion with Seward, idealistically one without rape.

"Well then principal, let's go!"

[New East Ireland]

"Alright then," Damien replied. He wasn't sure what to make of this. I mean, the school did have damage, but he might get some money. And if he got money, then he could just take it for himself, and get one of the drunk rednecks in town to work on it for free. Like that Earl Mason guy. Anyways, while Damien thought, he had already led Vernon to the town square, having turned a blind-eye to the lack of... Well, everyone.

[Olthar]

Mika was lying down in the back of the RV, pondering just how she got into this predicament. She was all ready to spend Winter Break studying for her report on wave-particle duality, but then her friends decided that this would be the perfect time for a road trip. Why a road trip? Of all the things they could be doing with their time, why waste it on some silly road trip, especially a road trip to Seattle in the middle of December? It just made no sense. And there they were outside having a campfire. Any minute now, Jessie would come in and try and drag Mika out yet again, but wait, something wasn't right. Mika couldn't hear them anymore.

Throwing on her jacket and running outside into the chilly morning air, she found her friends gone.

"They probably just took a walk or something..." Mika thought out loud, trying to comfort herself, "But why wouldn't they try and drag me along, too? Or at least tell me about it? Unless this is just another one of Jessie's pranks."

Mika smiled before shouting out to the trees, "HA, HA. VERY FUNNY GUYS. YOU CAN STOP HIDING NOW... Uh, guys? Where are you?"

Confused and somewhat frightened, Mika began walking around, trying to find her friends, or at least some answers.

[Al-Harakut al-Islami]

Annette awoke under the tree in the park, realizing that she had fallen asleep there. After making up the prayers she had missed, Annette closed her book and tucked it away in the backpack that carried her journal and sketchpad.
Sure that her parents sent her concerned text messages and that she missed their calls, Annette didn't look at her cell phone. It was 6:45 AM, according to her watch.
She decided to walk the streets that morning and explore the town. It was chilly, and her jacket didn't help much, but she decided to stay outside rather than go back to her family or their friends.

When she entered the town square, she noticed that there were a few people there. Not many, but a few. By the light of a streetlamp, Annette seated herself on a bench, took out her sketchpad and a sharpened pencil, and started to draw.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Mark's alarm clock rang loudly.
--
Some people walked into the town square. The immaculately dressed man looked at them and stood up. Dogs barked, unaware where their masters were. The sky was dark in the December sky.

The man spoke. "Hello." he said. His accent was ambiguous, though it seemed to be vaguely European. "My name is Mr. G. I have been expecting you, though some are still to come." he said, looking the people over with his eyes. There was something off about his eyes. They were purely brown, with no pupils. It could just be the dark covering his face though...

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

Mark's alarm was up in his bedroom, so he didn't hear it.

When the sun became too bright for Mark to ignore it, he finally forced himself awake, ate a meager breakfast, shot back some extra-strength aspirin, then threw on his coat and went out to grab some more alcohol. On the way, he noted the distinct lack of people.

His journey took him through the town square. There, he saw a gathering of people and walked over. "Would someone mind explaining to me just where the fuck everyone went?" He demanded aggressively.

[New East Ireland]

"Mr. G?" Damien asked with question. "You mean, Mr. Garfield from the tax agency? Because I paid off the bills from the past five months," he said, thinking of some excuse, depending on if Mr. G were to bring up the fact that he did not pay off his bills. Ah, head injury might do the trick. It worked last time, but then they might check with the clinic. He'd go with chest pains. He could probably get pills for that.

[Olthar]

As Mika walked around, she soon realized that everyone was gone. Everyone. She was completely alone in this desolate town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

"Okay...This is getting kinda creepy now. How could everyone just disappear in a matter of minutes. It makes no sense. It's impossible. Unless...Unless I got transported to the Twilight Zone or something!"

Mika started running through the streets, screaming to anyone who might still be around.

[Norvenia]

Father Gabriel Thomas was in his office working on the church balance sheets. How is it that all churches are always in debt? He glanced around the cluttered office. Where did I put the receipts for last week's communion wine? "Doris?" he called. The parish administrator would know.

There was no response.

Maybe she went to the water cooler. Gabriel got up and moved out of his office into the main hallway of the church's administrative wing. "Doris?" Still no response. Increasingly concerned, Gabriel went from door to door, flinging them open. It was early, but there were always people around in St. David's Episcopal Church - it was one of the pillars of the community. But Gabriel couldn't find anyone.

When he got to the sanctuary, he froze in his tracks. The pews were covered in the sleeping bags set out for the homeless to stay the night in, and the guest's bags cluttered the aisle. But there was not a single man or woman there.

A chill ran up and down Gabriel's spine. This is bad, very bad. A sense of essential, profound wrongness flooded his mind, and in the moment of weakness he felt the rage surge up. Killthemkillthemkillthem... Gabriel felt images of blood and torn flesh fill his mind, and despite himself, his mouth watered. The young priest sat down and held his head in his hands until it passed. Lord, help me. Help me. Don't leave me here alone with myself!

Gabriel felt his spirit settle. The fury wasn't gone, but it was back in its cage - for now.

Time to find out what's going on. Gabriel walked briskly next door to the small stone parsonage where he lived. There was no one on the street, but it was early. That doesn't mean anything. Gabriel donned a leather flying jacket over his khaki trousers and blue clergy shirt, and paused to pull on tall leather combat boots to keep his feet warm. Finally, after a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the shoulder holster containing his 1911 and two spare clips. Something is very wrong here, and it's no sin to be prepared. Gabriel felt the pistol's weight in his hands. My dad gave me this, the day I joined the Marines. I told him that God would protect me. He told me that a round with more power than the nine millimeter wouldn't hurt, either. The memory made the priest smile sadly. What a difference five years can make. Time enough to lose your faith, and your soul, and find them both again.

Stepping back outside, Gabriel saw his breath smoke in the frosty air. Where to now? he pondered.

The town square. It's the gathering point for everyone in Jasper. If anyone knows what's going on here, he or she will be there.

With a determined tread, the pistol heavy under his arm, Gabriel Thomas set off to find some answers.

[Metanih]

"Mr. G? Are you with law enforcement?" Hailey asked, stuffing the newly acquired pot into her pocket. Oh yes, that was excellent. He won't suspect a thing now. "SHUT UP!" Hailey yelled, accidentally aloud. And now everyone thinks you are some sort of lunatic. Which you are, since i am sitting in your pretty little head. Be nice to her. She can't help it sometimes. She does the best she can. The angel made a rare appearance, and at least this time it was beneficial. Can you two just shut up with the arguing? It is my head you know, so, some privacy please. Hailey mentally yelled at the pair.Yes mistress. All the privacy you want. Although the guy in front of you is creepy. You have your knife, stab him. Now. Just do it, you can regret it later. The devil said, and Hailey could swear it was smiling. What part of STFU don't you understand?

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Frederick woke up early in the morning. He didn't have an alarm clock, so he was used to this kind of thing. He looked out the window, seeing the streets completely empty, the gloom of winter having taken over, making the whole scene look rather eerie and unsettling, if only to him and to no one else.

Sighing, he decided that he had no reason to just stay home. Not anymore, anyways. Maybe he could go grab some breakfast outside. He didn't really want to cook.

Thus, he finally stood up from sitting on the side of his bed and went to get dressed, which he did rather quickly. He was quite dexterous, what with having only one arm and all. He put on a pair of formal pants, a shirt, and a coat over it, after which he took his pocket watch and looked at the time. 6:45 AM. He once again pondered the inconvenience of having to pull that out of his pocket every time he wanted to see the time before finally heading out of his house, not without taking his weapons first, if only for safety.

Eventually, his wandering led him up to the strange group of people gathered in the town square.

[Al-Harakut al-Islami]

Mark's alarm clock rang loudly.
--
Some people walked into the town square. The immaculately dressed man looked at them and stood up. Dogs barked, unaware where their masters were. The sky was dark in the December sky.

The man spoke. "Hello." he said. His accent was ambiguous, though it seemed to be vaguely European. "My name is Mr. G. I have been expecting you, though some are still to come." he said, looking the people over with his eyes. There was something off about his eyes. They were purely brown, with no pupils. It could just be the dark covering his face though...

Annette looked up.
"Expecting me? Have you...have you met me before~? I..."

[Norvenia]

Gabriel stopped, hearing distant shouting. Oh, thank you, Lord. The thought of another person still around was enough to make him feel weak with relief. He called out, "Over here!" He rounded the corner and almost ran straight into a young Asian woman. "Easy there!" She seemed distraught, panicky even. "Easy! It's all right." He gave her his most reassuring smile - the "I'm-a-nice-priest-you-can-trust-me" smile. "It's okay. I'm Gabriel Thomas, the priest over at St. David's. Are you all right?"

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"Damien, I am not that kind of man." Mr. G said with a slight chuckle. There was something inherently disturbing about this chuckle.

Mr. G looked at them. "Ah, glad you could make an appearance, Father." he greeted Thomas. "Good morning to you, Mark, Frederick, Annette." Mr. G said. There was a moment where the men realized they never introduced themselves to this strange man.

Mika's screaming was heard. "Someone may wish to get Mika. She is a bit disturbed about what is going on." he said.

He looked at Hailey. "The voices are troubling you again, my dear?" he asked. "They're rather annoying, aren't they?" He looked at them all. "I suppose you have questions. You may wish to get Mika though."

[Olthar]

Mika looked up at the priest. She didn't particularly care about religion, but this was no time to be picky.

"I don't know," she answered the man, "Everything seems so wrong. Where is everyone? None of this makes any sense. Though, at least I'm not alone now. Do you have any ideas?"