Fanfiction → Study Hall of the Dead {Chapter 1: Le Morte d'Alfred.}
» Alfred F. Jones, high school drop out and gang member is shot dead on a cold, wet night in New York City. But instead of going to Heaven or Hell, he finds himself joining a bizarre crew of ghosts with severely conflicting personalities and all of eternity to kill.
» Multichaptered
» America ; All Nations ; Eventual Russia/America ; France/England + more
» PG-13, rating may move up
Study Hall of the Dead
xXx
Chapter 1 - Le Morte d’Alfred.
This story starts off with someone dying.
That someone is Alfred “Fucking Awesome” Jones, high school dropout and gang member. He is just 19 years old.
Rather morbid, right?
Except... it isn’t really. Alfred is going to find out that there is, in fact, life after death; and he’s going to be spending his ‘rest of eternity’ with some very interesting individuals.
But before we get too ahead of ourselves, perhaps we should explain how exactly it is that Alfred found himself in this situation.
Well, Alfred was shot. That much is certain.
What isn’t certain is who fired the shot that killed him.
At this point, a pessimist would then ask if it really matters who killed him. At any rate, Alfred’s dead; stone dead, completely dead, and no amount of intensive care is going to be able to drag him back into the grim world of the living.
Behind him, Alfred leaves a rather impressive track record: drug dealing, dropped out of high school in grade 11, spent a couple of years here, a couple of years there, juvenile detention... the usual.
The only person who will miss him is his brother, Matthew.
But Matthew isn’t here at the moment; he’s far, far away in a comfortable house in Canada with a warm fire and a cup of hot chocolate and maple drenched pancakes. He isn’t there as his older brother by two years lies dead on a cold, wet back street of New York City. He isn’t there when a middle-aged man with a dog finds him ten minutes later, calls the police, and silently crosses himself.
He isn’t there when Alfred is loaded into a van, driven off to the morgue, and placed in cold storage.
He does come down for the funeral though, but that doesn’t affect our story much.
Whilst all this is happening to Alfred’s body, his soul is travelling through a gateway. He feels like falling; he sees white light and he doesn’t know what’s happening because the last thing he remembers seeing is an advertisement for
~The Hand of God: fortunes told at only a dollar a go~!
and perhaps if he thought about it more he’d have realised how ironic it all was but he doesn’t because at that moment he received a bullet through the chest and his brain doesn't even register yet that he’s dead.
Rather, when Alfred suddenly bursts into what looks like a school hallway, he briefly wonders if he’s dreaming.
But then why would he be dreaming about school when he could be dreaming about half naked girls in porno magazines?
That’s when he realises that he is in fact dead and this, school, is probably Hell.
(For the record, Alfred’s last words as a human being were “...the fuck?” and his first as a ghost are:
“aw shit.”)
xXx
» I promise it’ll make more sense next time.
Comments and constructive criticism is definitely appreciated! ^^
The title of this chapter is a reference to ‘Le Morte d’Arthur’ by Sir Thomas Malory. I have no explanation for this except I was watching Merlin at the time. Shoot me.
Next Chapter
» Multichaptered
» America ; All Nations ; Eventual Russia/America ; France/England + more
» PG-13, rating may move up
Study Hall of the Dead
xXx
Chapter 1 - Le Morte d’Alfred.
This story starts off with someone dying.
That someone is Alfred “Fucking Awesome” Jones, high school dropout and gang member. He is just 19 years old.
Rather morbid, right?
Except... it isn’t really. Alfred is going to find out that there is, in fact, life after death; and he’s going to be spending his ‘rest of eternity’ with some very interesting individuals.
But before we get too ahead of ourselves, perhaps we should explain how exactly it is that Alfred found himself in this situation.
Well, Alfred was shot. That much is certain.
What isn’t certain is who fired the shot that killed him.
At this point, a pessimist would then ask if it really matters who killed him. At any rate, Alfred’s dead; stone dead, completely dead, and no amount of intensive care is going to be able to drag him back into the grim world of the living.
Behind him, Alfred leaves a rather impressive track record: drug dealing, dropped out of high school in grade 11, spent a couple of years here, a couple of years there, juvenile detention... the usual.
The only person who will miss him is his brother, Matthew.
But Matthew isn’t here at the moment; he’s far, far away in a comfortable house in Canada with a warm fire and a cup of hot chocolate and maple drenched pancakes. He isn’t there as his older brother by two years lies dead on a cold, wet back street of New York City. He isn’t there when a middle-aged man with a dog finds him ten minutes later, calls the police, and silently crosses himself.
He isn’t there when Alfred is loaded into a van, driven off to the morgue, and placed in cold storage.
He does come down for the funeral though, but that doesn’t affect our story much.
Whilst all this is happening to Alfred’s body, his soul is travelling through a gateway. He feels like falling; he sees white light and he doesn’t know what’s happening because the last thing he remembers seeing is an advertisement for
~The Hand of God: fortunes told at only a dollar a go~!
and perhaps if he thought about it more he’d have realised how ironic it all was but he doesn’t because at that moment he received a bullet through the chest and his brain doesn't even register yet that he’s dead.
Rather, when Alfred suddenly bursts into what looks like a school hallway, he briefly wonders if he’s dreaming.
But then why would he be dreaming about school when he could be dreaming about half naked girls in porno magazines?
That’s when he realises that he is in fact dead and this, school, is probably Hell.
(For the record, Alfred’s last words as a human being were “...the fuck?” and his first as a ghost are:
“aw shit.”)
xXx
» I promise it’ll make more sense next time.
Comments and constructive criticism is definitely appreciated! ^^
The title of this chapter is a reference to ‘Le Morte d’Arthur’ by Sir Thomas Malory. I have no explanation for this except I was watching Merlin at the time. Shoot me.
Next Chapter