Strange (boyxboy)

9

Oliver let his eyes roam blankly over the screen of his laptop as he tried to find more information on this town. Tried being the key word seeing as nothing was coming up. This place seemed to be, quite literally, a ghost town. He still had the missing persons reports, but besides that and few articles on a fall fest, there was nothing. He couldn't even access any sort of information on the history of Greenfield. It was extremely frustrating. With the nightmares becoming worse, and Shy being of pretty much no help to him, he felt lost. Even his new friends and Dan couldn't cheer him up. And the longer he stayed in that school everyday, the more he realized how off some of the people were. It was impossible for him to put his finger on but he could just feel it in the air.

He groaned and pushed his laptop to the side in absolute frustration. He officially declared himself bored and with nothing to do. Dan was busy, Shy and Max were too invested in each other, and nobody else seemed interesting at the moment. Especially since he still didn't want to talk to Luke. Even Harley was gone for the day, off at some art convention he didn't want to go to. The pale boy would rather be spending time with Quinton, the enigmatic ghost, than just be lazing around as he was.

The bored teen pushed himself off of the bed with a lazy sigh, not at all knowing what to do.

With a searching gaze around his room, Oliver's eyes landed on the canvas and paints he's bought a few days before and he cursed himself quietly. Mr.Henns art assignment... which was due Monday. And it was Saturday. Depict your life in picture. He still had no idea what to do, but it needed to be done and he was bored. So whatever he did, he did. The grade no longer really mattered to him.

Within minutes Oliver had everything set up was sitting at his desk with a clean paintbrush in hand. No inspiration and no motivation. He wanted to scream because of how frustrated he was.

What exactly could he paint, though? Oliver's entire life had been one huge disaster. He turned and glared into his mirror with anger and- suddenly he wasn't aware of anything. Oliver was out.

***

It took a few minutes of blinking and absolute confusion before Oliver could register anything. With a muddled mind and hazy eyes, the teen came to the realization that outside his window the sun was setting, when before it wasn't even noon. His arm ached and his hand felt cramped. Understanding was not in Oliver's vocabulary at the moment.

The last thing he remembered doing was getting ready to paint, and now... Now what was he doing? Oliver didn't know.

Once again, he rubbed at his eyes and looked over the desk in front of him, only to be completely shocked with what lay before him. On the once blank canvas was now what he would consider a master piece of horror. Not something could even imagine painting in a million years. But the evidence was on him, from the black and gray paint covering his hands to the aches in his body. He'd done this, and it was absolutely terrifying.

Against the once pure white canvas was now an array of dark colors. Black and gray made up the majority of the painting, but the images those two colors depicted were horrifying. It showed two seemingly lifeless boys laying amidst a field of dead flowers. They were in awkward positions of pain, even in their deaths. The sky was dark and cloudy, but no rain fell. Instead, seeping from the heavy clouds was deep, crimson blood. The color was smeared harshly and awful to look at. In the bloody rain, the figure of a man stood crippled and bent, his disfigured body cloaked. He was directly between the two boys, and Oliver knew the man had been the cause of their demise. While the field and its' occupants were painted with careful and precise detail, the storm clouds and awful rain were made with think strokes and a heavy hand.

Oliver's eyes widened with tears as he stared at the gory picture he had painted. Shock over took him, and lightheadedness caused him to fall. The moment his body made contact with the ground, he screamed.

"Oliver, we are here. Helping. Understand us." Thousands of voices spoke at him, and he hurt.

He could feel their pain. Scream after scream ripped through him as their deaths rushed over his body and mind all at once.

"You must understand."

"Help us."

Hands grabbed and clawed at him as he wailed and screamed and shook.

"Look into the meaning and save us."

"Please."

"SAVE US!"

With a long dragging breath, Oliver woke up. Above him, bright orange hair and glimmering eyes greeted him. Luke stared at him, nearly in tears, as he spoke words of worry. "Oli, what's wrong?"

"The pain is never ending."

"What?" Luke blinked and lifted Oliver further into his arms. "Tell me what happened. Are you okay?"

Oliver cried out and curled in on himself, pushing against Luke's chest as he screamed. "It hurts, please, make it stop." He begged as tears tracked down his face. He didn't understand anything that had happened that day, and pain was consuming him. He needed everything to stop. Luke had to help him.

"Please, Luke. Please help me." Oliver begged pitifully, not knowing what he was doing. He wasn't actually registering anything he was doing. He felt like he was going insane. He wanted to lock himself within his own mind and never return. At no point did he think of Luke, though, as shook. The ginger was panicked and scared, having walked in on Oliver seizing violently on the ground. He wanted to help but didn't know what to do- at all. He felt about as useful as a spoon at the moment and it killed him.

With a heavy frown, Luke bent down and kissed Oliver's shaking lips, feeling the other freeze in his tremors. Within seconds he pulled away and watched as Oliver's gray eyes followed him, now calm. With a breath of relief he hugged the albino boy with all of his might and cried.

A/N

DON'T KILL ME! I HAVE NOW UPDATED... AFTER A FEW MONTHS

sorry ): but I love you guys and am back with awesome ideas for this story!

VCF!(: