NationStates

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'- Edgar Allan Poe, 1845



In the darkness of one Tristan Providence night, Phoenix Derrick pondered over an old poem by is favorite writer. The 18 year old boy always read poetry when he was troubled. Trouble was the least of his worries. Pounding, Pounding, pounding his heart raced, the blood was pumping relentlessly in his veins. All the despair in the world seemed to overcome him. His temple looked as if it would explode. Picking up a book from the lampstand he threw it across the room with all of his sorrow. The book hit a picture frame as if he aimed to hit it. His anger seemed to be uncontrollable to him. "Voices, Voices in my head." He cried. With this he fell onto his knees and started to sob. His tears poured out as if they would fill the room. All of the energy seemed to drain from him. His eyelids began to become heavy and he fell into a comatose.

Outside the wind was howling, rain began to cascade from the clouds. Inside Phoenix's house, he lay dosing in the middle of a puddle of tears on the floor. As uncomfortable as this is, he did not care. All of his despair drained his life energy. Sleep was his only escape. When it seemed he was in a peaceful slumber a knock came at his door. Phoenix lay unstirred. This time a louder knock came. The sleeping teen awoke. His eyes felt as if they were impossible to open. He struggled to pick himself off the floor. "Who the heck is knocking at my door at this time of night." He muttered as he turned the knob. He pushed the door ajar, enough to see outside. Only the darkness of night was there to meet him. He closed the door. "Maybe I was only having a dream." he stated as he lay down on his bed. In a mere 10 seconds he was in a deep sleep.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.


The inside of Phoenix's apartment was utterly destroyed. Furniture was strewed everywhere. Desks turned upside down. Pictures thrown across the room. Glass littered the floor. Phoenix sat in the middle of the chaos of his apartment. His anger all but overcame him. No part of his apartment was spared. He had utterly torn it apart. The sweat dripped down his forehead. The veins in his neck shown threw the skin. Heart pumping and blood rushing. This was the deepest darkest place of Phoenix's heart. Total despair. Phoenix looked around his apartment. He was awestruck as to how far his anger took him. Having never gone this far before, but was sure this wasn’t the last he would visit this darkest of moods, Phoenix sat contemplating his life. What was the point of it? There was no point in his eyes. Just end it all, he thought to himself. He reached for a long shard of glass. The Sharpe edges cut into his hand as he guided it to his forearm. Sooner than he could cut into his skin another mysterious knock came. Gently tapping at his door. "Come, to us. Come with us." it said eerily. Phoenix was aghast. The voice repeated and repeated the same thing. "Come, to us. Come with us." the voice began to cause the teen pain he clenched his head as if to shut the voices out. Suddenly the voices changed tone "We need you. You are essential to us." it claimed. As the haunting continued a low humming ring began to swamp the room. But as it continued and continued it drove Phoenix mad. He let our shriek of pain. The shriek echoed throughout the room. Subsequently the sound stopped. No more voices, no more haunting modulation. Phoenix steadily rose to his feet and walked over the shards of glass towards the door. He cracked it open, but Darkness there and, northing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.


Standing on the threshold of his apartment, Phoenix was dumbstruck by the darkness outside, he began to walk onto the sidewalk. The stars were out in the night sky. All seemed to be quite. Which was unusual for a night in the big city. He began to walk down the street, as if something was drawing him somewhere. Where? He didn't know. The cold pavement under his feet, he didn’t even bother to grab a coat. He was all but numb to the winter cold. Continuously he walked down the road, like a man who didn't know where he was going. He came to ally way that came off the roadway. The dark shadows between the buildings bewildered him. Suddenly out of the silence came a whisper. "Lenore!" Phoenix was aghast. Who but him would know the name of the girl that broke his heart? "Lenore!" it continued to say. It seemed to come from the dark ally way. He peered into the darkness expecting to see someone their. However much to his surprise there was no one there. Just shadows of the night. He began to walk into the ally way, searching for the strange source of these words. "Lenore!" it said once again. The word rang on and on through his head. He turned a corner. Still only darkness. Who was whispering this despaired word? "Lenore!" it continued. This began to trouble Phoenix. He couldn’t bear hearing the name over and over again. He began to cry out. "Who are you? What do you want!" no answer came. He slowly and softly stepped down the path. He looked all around; afraid something would come out and attack him. This went on for another 5 minutes until he came to a dead end. The voice continued, "Lenore!", again and again, "Lenore!" it began to get faster, "Lenore!", "Lenore!", "Lenore!". Sweat poured out of all the pores in Phoenix's body, suddenly everything stopped, and darkness consumed everything.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Phoenix stood in the middle of a dimly shaded room. A few lamps on each side of the room gave off little light. In front of him was an open window. The wind blew through Phoenix's hair. The cool breeze seemed to calm him. Despite the refreshing breeze, Phoenix was still troubled with his surroundings. Were he? The last he remembered he was in an alleyway in Goronwy. He tuned his gaze away from the window. A few chairs surrounded a table occupied in the center of the chamber. He looked up over a small fireplace. What he saw next turned his skin white and sent a shiver down his spine. On the wall was a portrait of Lenore. The beautiful blonde haired girl seemed to stare back at him, through his very soul. "Lenore!" the voices said again. This time however he knew were it was coming from, the lips of the portrait seemed to move as the whispering came. "Lenore!" it said. Phoenix turned and ran for the door, but much to his dismay it was bolted shut. "Lenore!" it said again. Phoenix shock all over, his skin tingled with fear, this was his worst nightmare. This room, the air, the whisper in his head was all too real to him. He couldn’t bear it. Clenching his ears as if to shut the world out he huddled on the floor. This had no effect. "Lenore!" the portrait said once again. Phoenix let out a death curling scream. "Leave me alone!" he demanded. To Phoenix's surprise the whispering stopped. Silence took over the chamber. He let go of his ears. Looking over the room he stood up. The dim lights flickered as a loud tapping sound came. This time louder than it ever has before. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Where was it coming from? Phoenix walked over to a window on the other side of the room. He could hear the tapping even more clearly than before. He unlatched the lock on the window and forced it open. Nothing, nothing was there. He sighed in relief to himself, "It’s the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


Withdrawing back into the mysterious chamber, Phoenix trotted back to the door. He pushed and shoved at it, but his attempts to escape were in vain. The door did not budge. "Where the hell am I?" he exclaimed. "This has to be a dream, I want to go home, send me home!" He backed up from the wooden doorway. He took another look around the room. The dim lights from the lamp did not revile much about the strange place. A few peaces of art dotted the room. The portrait of Lenore, a small clay vase, and a bust of Pallas. The later of these amused Phoenix. Of all the things to be in an odd place like this than a bust of Pallas. Although this faintly humorous, Phoenix was still not comforted; this fearful place chilled him to the soul. He had to try everything to escape. He rushed at the door. A loud thud ensued as he hit the door with full force. This did little but injure Phoenix. As he lay there dazed on the ground, the most mysterious noise came; a low pitched sound began to echo from the outside. Phoenix recognized this noise. It was much like a squawk of a bird. At this time entered a small dark Raven. The deep black feathered beast of the air flew in through the room. It flew over Phoenix's head and perched itself on the bust of Pallas. The deep dark and seemingly evil eyes of the bird stared into the eyes of the frightened teenager. The bird sat there in eery silence, saying nothing. It just Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


For the next few minutes the Raven and Phoenix sat staring into each others eyes. The dark hew of the bird’s eyes captivated Phoenix. It seemed they were deeper than the deepest of all the oceans. Its feathers seemed to shine in darkness. The color of its wings seemed darker than the night’s sky. Phoenix marveled at this beautiful bird. He would claim it to be the most beautiful thing in the world if it did not strike so much fear into his spirit. The Sharpe talons of the bird clamped onto the head of Pallas. Its beak was as Sharpe as a sword, the old and seemingly evil bird sat on the bust as if he was examining Phoenix. To afraid to move, Phoenix sat knelt on the floor of the chamber. He looked up onto the bird as if it was the ruler of the earth. Meek and small he felt in comparison to this beast. Breaking the silence Phoenix inquiried to the bird about his current situation. "Where am I? Who are you? What are ?" he said attentively. The bird continued to sit perched on the bust. It made no movement; it showed no emotion, only sat and stared back into the eyes of a mere mortal. With little effort the Raven voiced only a single word, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'


Chilled with fear to his very core, Phoenix stared back into the birds eyes. "What the hell kind of answer was 'Nevermore'?" Losing his patience Phoenix stood up. All of the fear he previously felt towards this beastly fowl seemed to melt away. He stood face to face, eye to eye, nose to beak with the Raven. "Where in hell am I? Huh? Am I dead? I this hell?" He interrogated the bird. "Tell me now!" He yelled. The Bird did nothing. It seemed not to mind the yelling and screaming coming from the human in front of him. No fear shown in his eyes. It was as if it didn't even care. This embittered Phoenix. His anger grew and grew with each passing moment the Raven didn't answer his question. Phoenix balled his fist and raised his arm as if to strike the bird. Showing little concern the Raven continued to stare back into his eyes. Deeper and deeper he peered into his soul. Seeing this blantent bravery from such a strange beast, he lowered his fist. The Raven still doing nothing more than staring deeper into his eyes, remained perched on the bust. Sick of the lack of communication between himself and the Raven, Phoenix turned away from the fowl and walked toward the window. "Nevermore." The bird uttered. Taken aback by the sudden revelation. Phoenix looked back around towards the bust where the bird was perched. To his astonishment it was no longer there. He swiftly wheeled around in search of the beast. Ironically the Raven was now perched on top of the fireplace, directly in front of the portrait of Lenore. The lights in the room began to flicker, lightning struck outside. "Nevermore." the bird said in a deeper dark tone. Phoenix's resolve turned to an ill faded ember as he witnessed the most horrifying of sites. Behind the bird the portrait of Lenore began to cry tears of blood. The blood dripped down the side of the painting. The Raven sat in all of its repulsive elegance watching Phoenix. The young man's mouth gaped at these sites. He sank to his knees as lightning claps seemed to nearly miss the window frame of the chamber. The bird squawked once again, "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'


Phoenix knelt on the ground as if begging the bird to let him free. "This must be hell, for no other place would be fowler." He thought to himself. The Raven sat perched in front of the portrait; it seemed as if the bird took pleasure in inducing this pain on Phoenix, although it did not show it. Fixing its gaze on Phoenix's chest he stared into it as if he wished to grasp it with its eyes. To the teenagers horror the Ravens eyes began to gleam a bright red hue. The devilish gaze of the raven sat fixed on Phoenix's heart. He implored the bird to set him free, "Let me go! What have I ever done to you? Please!" he cried. Without any movement of his head the bird squawked back that one malicious word, "Nevermore." In a sudden instant Phoenix grasped his chest. He gave out a shriek as his heart began to pound. It felt as if the raven through its staring was constricting his heart. Phoenix gasped for breath, the blood was all but blocked off from his veins. The room began to spin; the veins in his arm began to bulge from the lake of fluid. Phoenix let out one last gasp, and all the world seemed to go black. He lay there liquidated on the floor. The life seemed all but drained from his pale body. The Raven rested on the fireplace. The beast looked down at the perished being that lay strewed on the floor. A perplexing sense of evil attainment came across the birds face as it uttered that one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'