Have you ever wondered what it's like to be in a coma?
Some say it's like being stuck between a spirit world and the real world. You can only sit there, staring down at yourself, hoping that you will wake up. Yet, sometimes one will try to stray away from the cycle. It's a vicious and troublesome task, for one to break the strings holding them in this 'observing stage'. But if one cared enough or maybe had some unfinished business within the real world, it becomes slightly possible. The problem with this is, even when you break free, there are still certain drawbacks because you are still slightly in the spirit world. For instance, one cannot be seen by anyone who shares the same family blood, a person in this stage cannot age, and their appearance is altered just a little, perhaps in a more gruesome manner? But, somehow they make it by.
Now I'm sure you're wondering...
Why am I telling you all of this?
Well my friend, because this is where Johnny Revitt is right now. He slipped into a coma April 17th 1952, at the age of only 22 years old.
And this is where our story begins.
A figure sits at the edge of a wooden dock, staring at his reflection in the water.
You're a monster now" he thought.
You should have just waited out the storm."
Johnny stared at his reflection; his face had not really changed much, except for the fact that his mouth was now lined with teeth as sharp as daggers. His deep blue eyes had sunken, showing dark rings around them, and his brown hair was ragged and matted.
You let her win!
She won't win.
I always win.
You see, Johnny had been a hit man, a person hired and paid money to kill people. Of course, he was fairly young to be in this profession. But, Johnny was very good at what he did. He was very sly as well as charming, and had an appealing accent. Another account to Johnny's success is his ability to build things. He was very handy, and could create a weapon out of the spare parts of a clock. All of this ties together to the perfect hit man, which was the reason he was hired, and became fairly wealthy off of what he did.
One day, a few weeks before, Johnny had been hired to kill a wealthy man from London. He had done what he had been told; that night he took a train to London. He slipped into the man's manor, grabbed him, covered his mouth, and slit his neck. Little did he know that the man's 15 year old daughter, Maryanne had been watching the whole thing. After the incident Johnny made his way to a local Tavern, with Maryanne following in the shadows, close behind.
A few drinks later, Johnny wasn't too aware of what was going on. A young girl approached him, she had long black hair that curled past her shoulders, and beautiful bright green eyes that shined in the light. She outstretched her hand and asked Johnny if he would like to travel to a motel with her.
But, it was all a clever trick thought up by the girl. As they shared a bottle of wine in the motel room, Maryanne had slipped a bit of cyanide into Johnny's drink, which was supposed to kill him.
But it didn't.
It caused him to slip into a coma.
Everyone else thought he was dead.
How silly, a dead person can't still exist in the real world.
Ending his remembrance, Johnny threw a handful of rocks into the water.
I'm not letting her win; He whispered to himself.
He sulked away from the dock, leaving the dark murky waters behind.
Maryanne walked down an alleyway alone, her dark hair blowing in the breeze of an oncoming storm. It had been two weeks since she had killed the horrible man who had killed her father. She was currently living with her mother in the small town of Piper, only four miles away from London. Things had been fine since she left. Maryanne worked for her mother at a small tavern, of which her mother owned. Life was much different for Maryanne here in Piper. Her mother had little money to go around, unlike her wealthy father. In addition, Maryanne could never really shake the feeling that someone was still out there, looking for her, and waiting until the right moment to strike. The single thought sent chills down Maryanne's spine as she entered the tavern to work the nightshift.
The nightshift was as it usually had been. Wait on a few tables, bring people drinks, and watch as a few people who had a little bit too much to drink fail at the simplest of tasks. The shift was over now, and Maryanne was searching through her purse to find the keys to lock up the tavern. She rustled around until she felt the keys in her hand. But, when she pulled out the key, it was not just the key, but a small note was tied to it as well. She pulled off the small note and opened it in her hands.
I left you a surprise in the old Clock Tower right in the middle of Fourth Street.
Your father and I used to go there all the time when we were still together.
I will meet up with you there,
Strange, Maryanne thought.
My mom never really had ever given me anything, so it must be for working so hard I suppose.
Maryanne glanced around the Tavern, making sure nobody was watching her.
But I'd better come prepared, just in case.
Maryanne grabbed a small dagger from underneath the bar, where the liquor was stored. She placed it in the pocket of her brown leather jacket, and walked out the door. She started making her way towards Fourth Street.
Rain began to fall, causing Maryanne to shiver as she walked up the stairs of the old Clock Tower. She opened the door and walked inside. A figure shuffled in the corner, and Maryanne glanced towards it.
"Mother?" She stuttered, the eerie ambiance was getting to her.
She walked towards the figure. The closer she got, the more nervous she became.
The figure, it.... It was her mother.
Her mother sat there, tears streaming down her face. She was gagged, her hands and feet were tied together, and there were fresh cuts all over her arms and legs. She screamed for help in a muffled voice.
"ANA!" Maryanne screamed in pure terror at the sight of her mother's dread.
She kneeled down by her mother, and grabbed the dagger out of her pocket and began to saw through the ropes binding Ana's hands and feet.
Ana looked above Maryanne and began screaming again, the look in her eyes of pure distress.
A leather gloved hand grabbed Maryanne from behind and pulled her into a choke-hold. She let out a petrified scream and began to struggle, but the more she struggled the tighter the arm around her neck became. She sputtered, coughed, and kicked as she felt a needle pierce into her skin and inject something into her. The world around her began to blur, her body became limp and numb, and everything faded to darkness.
When Maryanne first woke up everything was a blur. She glanced left to right, trying to figure out what was going on, and she tried to move but she couldn't. As her vision regained she realized that her hands and feet were bound to some sort of gears and machinery. She gasped when she regained her memory. She began to struggle once again, trying to slip her hands out of the binding.
"Oh, look who's finally awake!" A familiar voice interrupted.
Maryanne turned forward to see the monster standing in the shadows in front of her. He stepped out of the darkness, and that's when Maryanne realized,
"IT'S YOU!" she murmured.
"That is impossible, you're dead!"
The man just stood there and smiled, something was very different about him. He wore these gold and blue goggles over his eyes, his face had been distorted. His grin was from ear to ear, and his teeth were similar to that of a shark, and it seemed that he had painted his face just like a Marionette puppet. He wore the same navy blue and gold jacket that he had worn the day he killed her father.
He walked a little closer to Maryanne, and laughed as she thrashed about.
"Impossible!" she repeated once again.
"Sweetheart, it's all but impossible." he smirked, running his fingers through her hair.
"My name is Johnny by the way, and you didn't kill me. You just helped me become stronger, isn't that great Maryanne?"
"H...how do you know my name...?" she moaned.
"Oh please sweetie, I know all the names of everyone I've killed, it's all a part of my job."
Maryanne had heard enough, she looked down at the ground and accepted defeat.
"Now don't look so down on yourself, you did great! You almost had me at that motel. But, I played you like a puppet, just like you played me. But I broke the strings that controlled the system, I'm no puppet mate."
He paced back and forth, keeping his eyes steady on Maryanne.
"You see this piece if workmanship here?" Johnny held up a small item that was hanging around his neck. It was an impressive little pocket watch, a small clock that he was wearing as a necklace.
"Your mother was planning on giving this to you, but I think I will keep it to remember you by..." he grinned once again in Maryanne's direction.
"SHUT UP!" Maryanne screamed, "YOU TALK TOO MUCH!"
Johnny just continued to talk, ignoring her snide remark.
"But I'm just going to leave you with nothing, for all of your efforts..."
Johnny stopped talking and approached the frightened girl, removing his goggles and locking eyes with her. He placed his hands on each side of her head and kissed her.
He released her and laughed, "You're welcome."
He walked over to a lever and before pulling it; he turned around and looked at Maryanne for one last time, "Farewell now Maryanne. It was great seeing you again, but when the clock strikes twelve you will be far from here."
Johnny pulled the lever and turned to Maryanne and smiled.
As the clock struck one, the gears begin to turn.
As the clock struck two, her limbs begin to burn.
As the clock struck three, she begins the scream.
As the clock struck four, her bones begin to break.
As the clock struck five, she kissed her life goodbye.
As the clock struck six, her limbs had been misplaced.
As the clock struck seven, blood began to pour.
As the clock struck eight, it was far too late.
As the clock struck nine, mad laughter filled the room.
As the clock struck ten, her world began to fade.
As the clock struck eleven, there was only silence.
As the clock struck twelve, she was far gone.
A single figure stood in a graveyard, above a headstone that read: "Maryanne Ana McDonnel".
The figure was Johnny Revitt, the one who had killed the young girl in the first place. He laughed once again as he placed a single red rose on the girl's grave.
A sudden pain caused Johnny to stumble to the ground. The side of his face smacking into the cold, hard, rubble. He lay there, coughing up a pool of sticky-dark blood around his head.
"What just happened?" he thought.
It felt like his chest had just exploded. Like his heart had just been ripped out. He slowly brought his hand to his chest.
"The heartbeat." he moaned.
"There is no heartbeat..."
A bright harmonious laughter erupted from above him. He managed to make it to his knees and look up.
And... It was Maryanne, sitting on a single cloud in the sky. She had all of her limbs again, she was wearing a wonderful white Victorian gown, and her skin was tinted with a soft yet bright glow.
"It's beautiful." Johnny thought.
Maryanne smiled at Johnny, a smile of content and joy.
"You're not too bright are you?" she laughed.
Johnny managed to make out a grin. He flashed his toothy smile, now his pearly white teeth were caked in a red layer of blood.
"You're dead Johnny." she whispered.
"Your mortal body just died. Your now a heartless soul, and soon you will go back to where you really belong."
"And where may that be?" Johnny smirked.
Maryanne pointed her silver-lined finger to the ground next to him.
"Hell," she smiled, "And that will be where you will be staying until another person opens the casket, of which your body will be stored, and releases your current being back into the world. But we all know that will never happen. So Johnny? I would suggest writing your Will now, because you are never coming back."
Maryanne opened her hands, revealing a single piece of brittle paper and a feather. She released them, letting them float slowly down to him. Johnny caught them, and looked back into the sky, but Maryanne was gone.
Johnny dipped the feather into his pool of blood, and began to write. But he didn't write his final wishes, what he wrote was far from it.
When he was done, only a few minutes later, he triumphantly stood up and placed the note in a nearby casket.
Suddenly the ground opened up from under him, Johnny grabbed to edge of the pit for dear life, but it wouldn't have helped him. Skeletal hands arose from the pit and began to pull him under. It was already too late.
It is January 11, 2010.
Archaeologists were recovering the remains of a small town, destroyed years ago from a disaster of a storm.
A British man, who was searching through the rubble of an old Graveyard had come across a casket from long ago.
He decided to open it, but what he found inside was not a simple corpse.
But a small letter.
And it read:
I am writing this to inform you that you have just released my spirit from the dark pits of hell. Thank you for that, it is much appreciated, for I have most likely been rotting down there for years upon years. Although I am obliged to warn you that I'm not the kind of human or creature that you should mess with. In fact, you have just released one of the most profound hitmen of my days, and I'm back for revenge. Not on the one who caused my fall, she is far gone. But to anyone I can possibly get my hands on. So thank you again, you have helped me so.