Closed for Refurbishment.

[Phang]

Nightmare's Guard


First Bit: Mornin'.


The sun crept in through the window, slowly lighting up the room, more slowly warming the unconscious body of the man. A young man mind – more of a boy. Limbs dangling over the edges of the bathtub where he soaks in his own filth and blood – and soapy water, of course.
His head slides into the reddening pool – juddering at first, as he's lain long enough to stick to the surface – and sinks under. Thankfully, his eyes are closed. Someone is standing in the opposite corner of the bathroom. It picks its bent nails as it waits for him.

Bubbles begin to rise to the surface of the water. They increase in frequency, and the body twitches into life. The young man splashes about in a panic until he finds the edge of the bathtub with his hands and can haul himself out.
That was a close one.


The young man observes what he almost drowned in. Noticing the blood, he rubs the cut on his arm subconsciously. A long gash, sustained from the run in with the cat next door. He'd been trying to wash out any infection; but he at least knew it wasn't rabid or anything. Cats just hated him. Which had led to him hating them back.

He senses the presence of the other in the corner as the sun returns behind its clouds. But it is long gone.


The other stands on the lowest part of the lowest roof in the street. Below, the cat hisses. A dog whines and backs away. It waves back with its worst hand, performing several offensive gestures with the multitude of fingers on its best hand.
It scratches its left leg, tearing a gash in its trousers. Growling a little in mild frustration, he jumps down to the floor – the cat wails as it bolts away.
“Now I have to find some more skin.” It mutters. Not the cat, that is.

*

The young man from before is now taking a short, yet brisk walk back home, having been to the shops for a birthday card. He hopes he will not run into any animals.
The way home is fraught with danger recently. There is construction work going on; I don't trust scaffolding enough to walk under. The young man does, but he is soon to be proven wrong.


His companion has been walking in his and others' shadows for the entirety of the return journey. He was not there for the journey to the shops; he was busy patching up his clothing.
He felt the impending danger before it happened, though. In ample time that, had he not been there, he could have arrived in time to rescue his protected.
He could not plan ahead to prevent his being revealed, though. He wasn't the sort for such planning – it was a wonder the boy had grown up right.


The scaffolding creaked ominously, which was enough to make him jump. He couldn't get out of the way, though, for a car sped past. Several cars. How odd.

A wooden board cracked in half as if struck. The heavy items it bore fell through onto the boards below, breaking through or taking them along. This carried on for several layers; meanwhile, a metal leg bent and collapsed near the bottom.

The young victim saw a blur rush past his eyes, as the scaffolding moved to crush him. Then, a mirage appeared, directly in front of him.
Stretching its four arms out wide, it took the brunt of the heavy collect – and took it in its stride.


Their eyes met – or rather, the human's eyes stared straight into hollow sockets. Of eye sockets, there were four, or two pairs. He assumed, as part of his natural instinct to assume so, that the other could see and the lower sockets were indeed in use – the lower sockets because those were the ones he could see best – despite the top part of the other's skull-like head being formed of a human skull.

There was a short pause after this.
Then the young man screamed; a scream which could not be described as being very 'manly'.

*

He had fled; this also could not be called a masculine act. He had ran away – possibly 'like a little pussy' – and was in his room, curled up in bed. Something profound had met him when he had stared into those blank, eyeless eyes. And at the same time, he had taken in visual details of the entire creature and quickly become convinced that such a thing could not be real – but was not of his imagination.


But then, it got worse. He began hearing things; a voice which echoed and whispered, and furthermore spoke in stereo. He sensed that something was standing over him – though this may have been common sense, as voices tend to be accompanied by physical beings.

“Excuse me.”

Several violent shudders racked down his spine, as he flailed about and around to face his 'protector'. He opened his mouth, and nothing but a long wheeze came out.
He tried again. “Whhh-wh-wh-what...are...you?!”

The creature spoke from two mouths, located on fleshy growths on either side of its skull-face. As they opened, thick, lilac-ish, aromatic smoke poured out to collect in a smog on the ceiling. “I...am not sure how to answer that. Give me a moment.”

The fearful young boy did, fighting the urge to flee again. It clearly would not help.

“...Ah! Here is an answer my good friend. To this world, there is a reverse world. A dark, cursed land, you get me? Well, that's where I'm from. But when you were a kid, I was tasked with guarding you. Some guy summoned me to protect you from any and all harm I could. The thing is, a few...pieces, of a person, get lost in the crossing.” The dark being gestured to his chest in particular, with his malformed hands – the skin and flesh had been stripped away there, leaving what appeared to be two pairs of lungs slowly inflating and deflating. There was no visible heart.

“Whhho was...it?”

“Hm?” The creature looked at him for a moment, then off at the wall. Despite lacking eyes or facial muscles, it seemed pensive.
A long, thick and pointed tongue suddenly flicked out between the teeth of one mouth, then slid out down the creature's shoulder to about its elbow, amidst a cloud of smoke. After a few moments of hanging there, it was slurped back up as the creature turned back to face his young 'master'.

“He was...a short man. Long, grey beard, beady little eyes. Bloodshot.”
“He was bloodshot all over by the end.” A whisper, silent to all but the most keen-eared, slid through the yellowed teeth of the human skull.
“Unfortunately, I didn't pay much mind to him. So I cannot give you a more accurate description. Perhaps I can find a picture, at some point.”


The young man sat up on the edge of his bed, looking up at the creature. It was quite a tall being – most people would find themselves looking up into its nostrils. Gathering his composure, assuring himself with memories and superstition that the thing did mean him no harm, he spoke again, more clearly this time.
“So...you're here to protect me?”

“I have to protect you.”

“...And you've been doing this without me knowing all my life.”

“Babies do not enjoy seeing my face.”

The man had to admit, that phrase caught him off a little. Regardless, he continued with his question.
“...What happens now I know about you?”

*

The young man lies unmoving, limbs hanging over the edges of his bed.

On the roofs, the creature stands observing the world's sunset. Beneath it, in an alleyway, a cat lies dead – footprints on its head.

[Chinaren]

Mmm, I like the concept of this Phango, but it needs quite a lot of small tweaks.

There are quite a lot of tense issues, which tend to creep in because you're doing it present tense IMO, which is always harder to do.  Also a few spots where commas seem to be a bit random.

Let's look at the first para:

The sun creeped in through the window, slowly lighting up the room, more slowly warming the unconscious body of the man. A young man, mind – more of a boy. Limbs dangling over the edges of the bathtub, where he soaks in his own filth and blood – and soapy water, of course.
His head slides into the reddening pool – juddering at first, as he's lain long enough to stick to the surface – and sinks under. Thankfully, his eyes are closed. Someone is standing in the opposite corner of the bathroom. It picks its bent nails as it waits for him.

creeped     This should either be crept or, if it's present tense, creeps.

man, mind I'd drop the comma here.

bathtub, where  I'd drop the comma here too.

Someone is standing in the opposite corner of the bathroom. It picks its bent nails as it waits for him.

The first mention says someone, but then the rest mention it.  Maybe change the first to something.

There are quite a few other little things which detract from an otherwise enjoyable start.  Keep it coming. 



Disclaimer:
This feedback is Chinaren's opinion only.  You can agree with it or not, however you see fit.  Chinaren is only trying to be helpful.  If you don't wish this kind of feedback in future, please inform Chinaren by PM or email. 
No offense is intended in any of these comments. 
Chinaren is an equal opportunities critter.

[Phang]

creeped     This should either be crept or, if it's present tense, creeps.

This always gets me, man. It's a hard word.

Someone is standing in the opposite corner of the bathroom. It picks its bent nails as it waits for him.

The first mention says someone, but then the rest mention it.  Maybe change the first to something.

Hmm. I was trying to aim for the fact that it would consider itself a person, or...somesuch.

Disclaimer:
This feedback is Chinaren's opinion only.  You can agree with it or not, however you see fit.  Chinaren is only trying to be helpful.  If you don't wish this kind of feedback in future, please inform Chinaren by PM or email. 
No offense is intended in any of these comments. 
Chinaren is an equal opportunities critter.

Disclaimer...DIS-CLAIMED!

[Phang]

Ok, changes made.

[Chinaren]

Disclaimer...DIS-CLAIMED!

Hey you, no disclaiming my disclaimer.   I'll take another look soon. 

[Phang]

Disclaimer...DIS-CLAIMED!

Hey you, no disclaiming my disclaimer.   I'll take another look soon. 

But it's a disclaimer...it's for disclaiming.

[Phang]

This is the Second Part: Bloodied.


A whistling pervaded the air, a sound like two wheezing flutes, making a tune that really wasn't tuneful to human ears.
In this way, it managed to disguise itself as wind, until the woman on the empty street could not ignore it any more. By this time, it was too late, as she had only stopped when she began to sense the heat and smell of the curling smoke rising behind her.

She spun round as she heard the stereo greeting, and met the thing's eyes dead-on – the lower pair. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes, as lovers might. Then she was met with a flash of memory that wasn't there before.

She'd died as a child. Head cracked against the wall. She couldn't be here, she was dead. A child, her head cracked open.
She had such a headache...

*

“To be quite blunt...I can do anything. Anything within my power which does not harm either you, or myself.”

“...So what's your power?”

“Look at me, my lord. I am beyond human compare, and can do things to people's minds you might prefer not to experience. Please, just name your wish.”

The young man leant back a little – pondering the implications of this. “Well,” he finally said, “it doesn't seem right to have you doing chores. Can't you...err...go home or something?”

“Nope. I'm here until you die.”

*

The young man continued to ponder this throughout the day, and the next day. Meanwhile, though his guardian kept himself hidden from view, he knew the creature was there, waiting for the mere moment between his survival and his death.

Suddenly he realised another question. “What happens if you can't save me?”

“What do you mean?” the creature stood right beside him, as if it had never left his side. “I will do everything in my power to prevent your death.”

“I mean, what if everything in your power isn't enough? I'm...gonna die of old age eventually, at least.” There was a short pause as the creature weighed its options of answering. “And – what's your name? I need something to summon you with.”

“Two difficult questions for me...for the first: you'd be impressed with the full extent of my abilities. And for the second: I and my kind...don't quite get this whole 'naym' concept you have.”

“...Just what are you?”

The four mouths attempted to twist themselves into smiles; resulting in four slack-jawed grins. “Explaining that to you is beyond my power.”


“Half-formed creatures with no names and unimaginable power...” The boy thought. “One of them brought to protect me and obey my every command it can. What the hell do I do..?”

*

Walking home, he discovered another question lurking within his mind. “Hang on.”

“Excuse me?”

“You keep saying 'I and my kind' and the like. Are all of your kind like you?”

“To be honest? ...No. We aren't like you,”
“Crawling around breeding and eating and dying.” Whispered the human skull.
“We have no familial resemblance because we have...no...families...” The creature turned its head. The young man followed its gaze; it was staring intensely at a shadowy figure skulking along the other side of the road.

“What is -”

“Shh.” The lower three mouths each received a finger over them. “I smell a bad person.”

The creature suddenly had a slight change in behaviour. Its teeth chattered inanely, and its lungs rapidly pumped. With a relaxed stride it paced up to and behind the 'bad person'; then began hunting.

The wind suddenly picked up; and it blew through the holes and cracks in the monster's skull. Like a broken instrument it started making a thin, tuneless whistling. The two mouths on its neck joined the song, taking up the wheezing, flute-like noise.
The shadowy, hooded person soon caught on. As he turned round, the skull's teeth started chattering again.

He screamed, and across the road, the young man gasped. The monster slowly raised a hand...its victim didn't move, remaining stood on the spot, still screaming. It placed a finger each in his eyes, and gripped his head firmly. The victim did nothing else.

The boy on the other side of the road cowered and covered his eyes and ears.

*

“How – no, why, why did you do that?”

“You believe that people like that are bad people.”

“What, you can read people's minds?”

“I know your kind is steeped in suspicion. It was you or him.”

“Wha – what?!” The boy held his head in his hands, breathing heavily. His murderous servant watched calmly.
“Alright, this is...I...I think I get what you mean here. You don't know how...how humans...work. It's...I don't know...”

...As he calmed down from his fear-induced rage, the boy let other feelings get to him. A feeling of thrill, for example, also birthed from his terror. As he became more lucid, his relationship to the creature, and the questions of what he would do with this...power, returned to the front of his mind.
He did feel...powerful. In control. Logical.

“It...couldn't be helped. He was going to harm me, so you harmed him, right? S-simple – right?”

The wind picked up outside; but inside, it was still airless. The desired effect did not happen. “I suppose that makes sense.” The creature answered regardless, in that way it always spoke which did not actually answer anything.
Still, it sounded like it was saying yes.

The man sighed deeply, heavily. “There – there could be plenty out there who could harm me. Would you kill them all?”

“To be honest? I've already started.”

He laughed; nervously, then to the point where he sounded slightly insane. “What about...what about the ones who cross me? Insult me? The cowards who wouldn't beat me with their fists, haha! You would...you would kill them, wouldn't you? You'd gouge at their eyes like -”

“That's enough, master. You sound a little crazy.”

“...Shut your damn mouth. You do what I say, don't you? Someone told you to do whatever I said, and you don't care what I say...”

[Phang]

Third: Disruption


The man woke up with a headache, groaning softly.

What had he said last night? Something...he felt like he'd gone mad. He'd wanted to kill someone...well, he'd wanted the monster to kill for him! At least now he seemed to be in full control of his reasoning...or at least, so it seemed.
...His headache was definitely not subsiding. The young man raised a hand to his head, more an automatic action than anything else.
The boy had not expected to feel something there.

Muttering curses under his breath, he parted his hair in front of the mirror. Sure enough, there was a lump. Almost like his skull was deciding to grow longer...he sniffed, smiling slightly.

“That looks...kind of unpleasant.” An altogether different skull moved into view behind the boy, peering through its nostrils at him. “I'd see a...doctor, is it?”
“I don't like doctors.”
“It won't go away on its own.”
“Can't you get rid of it?”
The wind picked up outside, making the tree next to the window scratch and tap at it. It sounded a little like an amused whistling... “I'm afraid not. Fortunately, it does not appear fatal.”

“...It kills. I'm going back to bed.” And so the man skulked off with a groan.

*

It was several days later that he eventually went out again. The headache had only got worse, and every morning as he hauled himself out of bed and went to the mirror he looked worse and worse.

Morning after first morning: no difference
Next day – head feels so big
Oww my jaw
Monday: - It's like my skull is growing free of my face

Mouth agape and a hand permanently rubbing his temple, the boy loped dizzily along streets barely-lit by sunrise. The medical profession was not a favourite of his, but it was the one to help him.

“You said it wasn't fatal.”
“It doesn't look it.”
“It feels it.” The boy groaned, a long, drawn-out noise like a wailing animal.
“As long as it isn't, what have you to worry about? Pain is existence, after all.”
“...What?”
“Well, maybe that's not what you think...” They'd reached the clinic. The creature remained outside.
It spied someone familiar across the street...



“Painkillers.” The young man shook a bottle in front of the monster's face. “To remove 'existence'.”
The wind was howling again, whistling through the creature's skull. “Are you still stuck on that little joke?”
It hadn't sounded in jest when the creature had said it. It had sounded very...final.

The boy was perhaps about to experience further, more final pain, more so than this headache which both doctor and monster had called 'harmless'.
He felt a coldness, a sharpness against his throat. A raspy voice whispered to him through the raging wind, a voice which reminded him of screaming; “Don't say a word.”

He didn't.

[Phang]

Ok, I've stumbled with this, lost my aim. I'll be back!

[Saint]

Phang, do you want me to lock and freeze this?  It's older than 5 months, and thus, considered inactive, but as your title suggests you'll be back, Im'a give you a chance to speak up.

[Phang]

Kill it, mon.

[Chinaren]