[EternalPen]

Synopsis: "Sleep - The Blood Tower" takes place just a measly few days after "Sleep". Trey was beaten senseless in all literal meanings of the phrase, and just when he had discovered the cure to "The Croatoan", a virus that is spreading quickly and driving humankind to the brink of extinction! Camlin, a once kindhearted man, thinks he is forced by his life circumstances to "discover" the cure and SELL it. When Camlin and his team take Trey from the Asylum he was committed to, and the developer of the cure itself Dr. Charles is murdered, everything goes bad. Camlin is unsure of what to do and struggling with the side of him that wants to HELP Trey. The President offers negotiation, but is also planning to send a strike force to fix things the quick way. All the while, Trey is faced by the appearance of the mysterious Blood Tower in his once-peaceful Id and his calling to reach the top and regain his sanity, and the code to the cure that could save mankind. Everything is coming to a crashing close and not a single one of them knows what will happen next...

***Prologue***

Trey’s Id

Trey took a deep breath. He had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that there was something he needed to remember. Something about a cure, something about Tracy, something about his mom, something about a virus, something about-

He took another deep breath. He was too tired to think about it. He wanted to just enjoy this place around him. He thought it was something about his id, but couldn’t remember. He knew that he was dead, in heaven, and wanted to stay here. Everything was green, every breath helped him relax, and he was free of those scratchy, uncomfortable pieces of cloth he had to wear back wherever he came from. He had only arrived two hours ago, and already loved this place.

Everything was normal, but he couldn’t help that feel something was amiss. The white, stone citadels that rose from the ground were there, all the bones were gone, the houses were fixed, and the trees bore fruit again. Everything was-

There was an extra citadel. He didn’t recognize it at first. It was red, not white, and it was not stone. It looked almost as if it were made of… liquid. It was a waving, watery tower. It shook and waves rippled on the edges, creating a balcony. The red color reminded him of something he didn’t recognize. An odd, unfamiliar, almost blasphemous word to him. Blood.

It all came back.

The virus, the cure, the journey, the ship, Tracy, the Dark World, the id, waking up, being attacked, and falling asleep…

It was all there like it had happened yesterday, but his memories told him it was all two weeks ago. He didn’t know how to get out, to escape this sleep, but he needed to try. It must have had something to do with…

The Blood Tower. The answer to all this had to be at the tip of the Blood Tower. He ran to it, but something constricted his movements a bit. He was back in his clothes. He was glad, too. They felt comfortable, warm, and he didn’t want to be naked anymore. It was shameful. He couldn’t jump as high or run as fast, and he felt sleepy. He began to sweat as he ran to the tower, and he loved the smell of it. He was sad to have left paradise behind, but having reality back… that was what he needed, what he wanted.

Besides, paradise was lonely. No matter where you are, you’ll come to hate it if you’re alone.

He ran to the tower, and his whole world shook with a booming voice. The voice sent ripples through the Blood Tower, and the stairs, the balconies, everything on it just shook and broke. It returned to normal in slow and fluid motions when the voice was finished.

The voice did indeed cause these ripples as it echoed explosively through the world around Trey, but it was whispered. There was no force in the plea, only desperation. It was a whisper that shook the world with its pain and worry.

Trey had to help the voice. It came from near the top of the Blood Tower. He ran towards it.

He reached the entrance of the Tower and placed a foot on the first stair leading to the next floor. His foot sank about an inch into the blood before hitting something solid. He began his climb.

He didn’t know what awaited him at the top or what was on his way to the top. All he knew was the voice was sad and had only the smallest hint of hope in it. Trey had been at that point in his life, when he had the virus, and he longed to help the voice.

He ran up the stairs with renewed courage. The words the voice spoke echoed in his mind as he ran.

“Trey…” It said.

“Help me….”

***

South Carolina

Camlin thought this would have been a lot harder than it was now. He and his men had prepared for a small fight. They thought that at least a few security guards would be there to put up a fight, but the virus had been spreading faster than Camlin had realized.

They broke the lock on the gate, ran in, and Camlin stood in the pavilion of the asylum. He saw a guard tower, but no guard. The booth next to the gate was also empty. He walked into the booth to see if there was a camera in place of a guard.

Camlin saw the guard. He was there, just… dead. He lay on the floor as if taking a nap, but he was dead. His skin looked as if it had shrunken a little, but it was not tight against his bones. He had no solid bones.

His body was in more of a puddle than pile. His eyes were falling out of his head, blood and other odd colored liquids were slithering out of his ears, nose, eyes sockets, mouth, and from under his fingernails. His muscles elevated the skin a little so he didn’t look like a human sheet.

The decomposition was taking place, but hadn’t fully taken over. Camlin guessed that this man had achieved death from the virus less than a week ago. He felt a little pang of sorrow sting his chest. Fury burned in his head and heated his eyes.

Camlin was a passionate man who cared about the well-being of those he knew, but there was no way that he could keep living like that in this world. He had changed himself and armed his men with weapons. They were going to break into the Jones House Asylum, find the man called Trey, and take him. Anyone who stood in the way was to be held hostage, but Camlin knew that he had to change his ways completely if he were to succeed in his plans.

All who stood in his way would have to die.

He would find this Trey, steal him away, and demand the cure for the virus that spread. With that, he would destroy Trey so no one would find out what had taken place, and sell the cure. Not only would he be saved from death, but his life would be revived from the beginning.

Like a phoenix from the ashes, he would rise again. This time better than before, as he would be the richest man on the planet. He would be able to save his family and perhaps fund an expedition into the depths of despair that is created by cancer.

He would cure the world and save his wife. He would save her once and for all from both diseases.

But to do this he had to be ruthless and strong. He would shed no tears from this dead man, no matter how innocent he might have been.

Camlin and his men continued on. Everywhere they went, though, there was no resistance. All the people in the asylum had died the same way as the guard outside.

Camlin sent two of his men into the security room to open the doors. Camlin already had a map of the asylum and he supplied each of his team members with one. Camlin knew exactly where Trey was being held, too.

And Camlin was looking into the eyes of Trey himself.

“Cure! The cure!” Trey was screaming, “I know it, I saw it, I felt it, I took it, I helped it, I fought it-” and he babbled on.

“Do it.” Camlin said into his radio he held.

The door to Trey’s cell slid open. Charles walked in and saw another body on the floor next to Trey’s. The man on the floor was alive. He was asleep and twitching on the floor, as if suffering from a nightmare. An empty bottle lay next to his head, inches from his right hand. The bottle smelled as if it had been filled with excrements.

Camlin pitied the man. He saw a nametag on the man and read it aloud to himself in a quiet whisper.

“Dr. Charles Trimmer.”

He placed his lips close to the doctor’s ear and whispered, “I will free you, Charles.”

He stood and ordered that Trey be taken back to the place they planned this human theft, all without looking away from the doctor on the ground.

“What about that man?” One of Camlin’s associates asked in a voice that dripped heavily with an Indian accent. “He is alive. What do we do with him?”

Camlin turned and said in a low, gruff voice, “Leave him.”

Camlin would have spoken regularly, but was afraid his voice would break. That couldn’t happen in front of his men, and he was near the point of tears. He would have to teach himself to kill before he was faced with a situation where he only had a split second to decide if he was ready.

The men left with Trey and Camlin stared at the blank, pained face of Dr. Charles. Camlin did not whimper, did not speak, or did not close his eyes. He just bit his lower lip and let a few drops of his salty tears spill before his picked up his gun and aimed it at Charles.

“I’m freeing you from the virus.” He finally said, more to himself than the doctor. “This is not murder, this is mercy.”

With that, he pulled the trigger. His vision was filled with a powerfully bright realization and a new beginning. As the gunpowder ejected the bullet into Dr. Charles brain, it ignited Camlin. The first spark of his phoenix resurrection.

He no longer feared the necessities of killing.

['Ginnis]

Good start, keep it going, EP.

Your take on Trey's Id is interesting, it contrasts so much with his outward behavior. Is he mad or just lost within himself? I like your characterization of Camlin as well. Not completely heartless though still pretty ruthless. There's a lot to be said for a dynamic character as such. I'm interested to see where you're going to go with him.

[EternalPen]

Thank you, I'm trying. ^_^

A bit skeptical about making a "Part 2" to a already finished story, but it's too late to turn back now! Actually... it isn't. But I won't. I can't figure out why but it has been SO MUCH FUN working on the "Sleep" universe, I just don't wanna quit!

So I'll keep it running until I figure that it's time for Trey to hang up his, er, hat?

[RENA HANDS]

Your synopsis reads very awkwardly. Also, shouldn’t the comma be inside the quotations here…discovered the cure to ‘The Croatoan,’ ?

I think you are using ‘he’ too much in the Prologue. My suggestion, use Trey’s name more.

If you are capitalizing ‘Tower,’ here then you must do so there…he ran (toward) the Tower,

What about…

All he knew was (that) the voice was sad (another same meaning word) holding, (clasping, grasping) the smallest hint of hope (within.) ?

Your actions are rushed. Your imagery is too vague for my taste.

I would think if one is penetrating a closed, secured compound then would not just ‘ran in,’ but rush in or storm in.

This reads like an extremely vague telling of Resident Evil or 28 Days. A story of its own, yes, but weak.

What about…

Everywhere they went (searched), there was no resistance. (Not certain if you need a comma now.)

Do just tell me other patients have suffered the same ‘fate’ as the security guard, but show me their individual or grouped stages of decomposition. What weapons are being used by Camlin and his men, his small personal army? What state(s) is the asylum as he and his men roam through?

So Mr. Camlin is rich, extremely wealthy and he’s compassionate then he’s ruthless enough to show little or no mercy. A very complicated man this Mr. Camlin.

You mentioned the word ‘associates,’ if these are military men then they would not be in this instance his associates, but his regiment, troop, legion or squadron or something similar.

I will end repeating myself; too hastened in action and imagery. I will hold off on rating for now until the story is completed.

[EternalPen]

Originally Posted by RENA HANDS

Your actions are rushed. Your imagery is too vague for my taste.

I HATE to sound like I'm using age as an excuse, but being 16 is hard on the imagination. I know what I see, I expect others to see it without description, I jump right into the plot. Bad, I know! REALLY bad! I'm working on it!

Originally Posted by RENA HANDS

This reads like an extremely vague telling of Resident Evil or 28 Days. A story of its own, yes, but weak.

Really? *Shiver*
Ugh. I hate Resident Evil. 28 days was pretty cool. I know you *probably* didn't mean it that away, but are you referring to the zombie plot? The virus just kills. A kick-ass cold.

If you meant it in the sense of people running amok in a dying world, oh okay!
Weak? Hmm... maybe as I grow older I'll begin to get more inspired by other things? Things my own? I'll try! But mostly I wrote like this because I sort of don't like fantasy, but I wanted to write a fantasy story. I'm trying to focus on the story that takes place in Trey's mind from the first part pf "Sleep", but having trouble. I'll keep trying! ^_^

Originally Posted by RENA HANDS

I will end repeating myself; too hastened in action and imagery.

Yikes. I'll, like almost everything else a beginner is having trouble with, work on it. >_<

Originally Posted by RENA HANDS

I will hold off on rating for now until the story is completed.

Hoo-boy. Last one was a good 60 pages. Took me two months. This one is (What I've got so far) 21, and it's been three days. NO idea how long it'll be, so I wouldn't hold my breath. =P

Overall, thank you for reading and the input! Being a novice writer, I can see there are still quite a bit of things I need to work on. I'll try not to get cocky, and I'll keep your advice in mind.
Thanks!
-E. H. Amos