Friday, September 30, 2011

Sowing Season

I've been trying. I honestly have. I attempt to keep my moods in not burst into anger at random intervals. To not be expressive. But this curse that has been planted on me...Sowing Season. It's unpredictable. I go from having no emotions at all, to violently expressive. Which is, ironically, a good thing for me; without Grey's prior influence on me, I would have no emotions, at all. I would be some robot, or better yet, an ocean with no waves.

Today I let out the anger at both the worst of times...and best of times. You see, today was the meeting for membership into The 757. Everything was going smoothly, and we had multiple possible appliants to choose from...even if most of them were weird. See, apparently, most of the appliants were avid believers of witchcraft and other famous occult subjects, like spirits and fairies.

Steven and I don't believe in that shit...

The meeting was being held in some Walmart parking lot out into the city of Suffolk at around five. Steven drove the two of us there, along with our little brothers, Alec and Liam. Alec and Liam were both a year younger than us, so it wasn't like we were bringing annoying toddlers with us.

We got to the lot around four-thirty. They went to browse the aisles in the supermarket, while we sat in the car and waited for the appliants. One by one, they arrived, until about seven people were here...which, at least felt like the ideal amount of people we needed.

But the appliants...they just didn't feel right. I knew it right off the bat. No, it wasn't because of the fact that most of them were much, much older than us, or the fact that one of the people there seemed almost like an annoying fan of our blog, it was more of an instinctual feeling. The 757 needs to be a circle of fellow marked victims of The Fears, so that we all share something in common. These fuckers didn't know what they were dealing with, so before we got around to meeting everyone, I pulled Steven aside and told him that this wasn't right. If we went up against The Dying Man with these jokers, we would be squashed like roaches.

He understood, but he possesses tact. He convinced me to at least look at the appliants. So, with extreme dispassion, Steven and I interviewed them all. Most of the interviews were a boring chore, but...there was this one guy.

A homeless-looking man wearing a hoodie and torn blue jeans, with some type of greek lettering marked on the back of the hoodie. I remember being struck by how rough the guy's face was, but recalling it now, I can't actually place how it exactly looked.

Except for the eyes. This kid never got any sleep.

Oh...wait...kid? How old did he look anyways? Another thing I seem to have forgotten...

The first few questions I asked, which were generic ones like "Where do you live?" he gave terse, simple answers. But once the more complicated ones were asked, he seemed to start looking at me in a different way. Halfway through the interview, his head rapidly began glancing away from me, and soon, he was wildy looking around. His eyes looked so paniced, and sweat blanketed his forehead.

I stopped the interview, and asked him what was wrong.

"This was a bad decision, mate. Bad, bad, bad."
"What do you mean?" I asked.

"...He's always watching.... See that tree over there?"

There was no tree, considering we were in a parking lot; he was pointing out a streetlight...but I said yeah anyways.

He grinned and replied in a dopy voice,

"That's a nice tree."

I scratched my head and looked around nervously...I got paired with a crazy dude...of course.

"Look, sir, we don't have time to play around. What are you so scared of?"

His grin faded and he looked at me with a sober face.

"That's not a good question. At all. IN FACT, it sucks. See, you should have asked ["What are you NOT scared of?"]. Because when you're in my position, look at everything, and everyone, with a second glance. No, you should ask yourself that...what are YOU scared of?"

I felt like he was wasting my time there...Sowing Season stole my Fears away from me. So I answered,

"I'm not scared of anything."

He shook his head...

"Impossible. You are,...I'm aware of your exploits, Owen GREY (he yelled my middle name out, for some reason) Norris. Why are you so arrogant to think that your fears have vanished? How do you know Mr. Rivers was telling the truth?!"

"...I...I don't're right, but that-"
"And even if he was telling the truth,'re a don't deserve a power like that. I'm not saying Rivers should have left you to die by that organization, but that power you -supposedly- possess? It would do much better for one of the other bloggers to possess, don't you think?"

"I guess...but..."

"I don't have the time to converse with you...he's always watching, even if he can't be near due to this town's....eccentricities...I have a warning to give....It's important...SO LISTEN."

"...That thing that haunts this'll get stronger, and there's nothing you can do to stop that. It's already discovered the heart of Portsmouth. Literally...


The ham at the ending of the sentence made me snort, but a dire sense of panic set in. How could Grey get any stronger than he already is? And once he is could we even hope to kill him?

...Can he be killed?

"And it only gets worse from here on out. But...but if act like a man, and survive the Winter...the Spring will come bearing fruit.


Just...survive. You're nothing special...but this's different from most. Protect it. last thing..."
He cracked his neck, got up from the hood of the car, and started to walk away. About ten steps later, he looked back and whispered one last thing.

Though it was a whisper, I heard it, as clear as day, or however that saying goes.

The interviews all took about half an hour. It was dark when we started to drive back home. We all told the six remaining strangers that we would follow up with the interview, which was a big, fat lie. We had no intention on seeing those creeps ever again.

Liam and Alec went home with some other friends, so we were alone.

When we were almost halfway home, I thought about what the hooded figure had said...


All througout my life, that's all my mother's ever called me. A mistake. Something she regrets.

But that's enough about don't need to hear about anything except my relationship with Grey, and the hopeful, eventual defeat of him. Just know... I am no stranger to hardship. My life...frankly, sucked before Grey. I've had to, multiple times througout my life, reformulate my life, and deal with unwanted grief.

That made me angry, how the guy had just openly called me that. He didn't know me. All I post here are my thoughts, which are colored by prior thinking. The words we say, take different shades, for anyone who hears them. I could be a wildly different person than I portray on this blog, as you should already know.

The anger left me wide open...I shouldn't have let it control me like that.

I felt Grey inside of me. He was using the connection left from his possession of me, and now was trying to contact me on another plane. I...I let him do that. I wanted to fight.

I disappeared from the car, if Steven is to be believed. For ten seconds, I had left the Earth, and stepped into somewhere - in between -.

One second, I was looking out the side window of a car, and the next, I was in a field. Above, there was the Harvest Moon. Far on my right, a farm stood, cold and alone. To my left, the desolate wasteland stretched forevermore. In the air, the lush smell of a "cold fire" least, that's how I describe the smell that Autumn brings.

It was Sowing Season. Literally.

Suddenly, a man in black robes and a skeleton mask appeared out far into the field. Though he was far away, I could hear him humming softly to himself...I recognized the tune...

Do you miss the blend of color she left in your black and white field...?

Do you feel condemned...just being there?
A few steps later, he had traversed an entire field's length and was now standing four feet away from me. His chuckles hinted to his identity, but his posture completely revealed it; his shoulders were slumped, and his head was cocked to the side.

It was Grey. He had a different mask, for some reason.

"Welcome, Owen."

Time to get the seeds into the cold ground,

takes a while to grow anything.

Before I could reply, he stepped up to me, took his left arm, and with superhuman strength,

he stabbed into my chest.

Pain flashed through me, coupled with images of Anna.

Images of Anna as she died.

"Do you miss her, Owen?" a voice asked inside of me.
It wasn't Grey.
"I missed her...and I have her now. Do you want her, Owen?"
I wanted her.

"Let me-"

Grey suddenly pulled his hand out, and looked at me with a confused look on his face.

"Did I pull out too soon? Shit...well, Owen...I fucked up..but next time..."

pain throbbing, I picked myself up off of the ground, and tried to tackle Grey, but he calmly stepped aside. While on the ground, I spotted something glowing in his hand...

"Too slow, kid, hahahaha. Well, I've gotten what I wanted...seeya on the flip side, soldier..."

He disappeared, and the world around me started to collapse. Before it all completely faded away, though, I saw Grey inside of a familiar looking body...a hooded one...

He was the alpha, and now...he was also Omega.


I awoke on the side of the road, with Steven standing over me. He had my phone in his hands... he was calling the Old Man. According to Steven, I was gone, so he pulled over. When he had gotten out of the car, though, to look around, I had appeared on the sidewalk next to the steet.

No marks remain from what must have been a fantasy...or something...

This is not good. I've fucked up. I let Grey in for a second,

and now he has something.

but it isn't all bad...

I noticed something about Grey..

he was in a panic. He's scared. was the best of times.

Or something.

I don't always, I'm tired while making this post, and to add to that...

my chest is now in a great deal of pain...

Going to talk to the old man about it...


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