Other Forms of Creative Writing
(10/20/2012 10:06:00 PM)
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This is from a book I'm writing. You might not understand it all but I really hope you just like it:
Later that night, Robert was still awake. He heard a gunshot nearby. He looked out his window.A man with a knife was walking towards Robert's house. Robert closed the blinds and locked his door. He wrote a note about his life. Someone pounded on the door. Robert stayed quiet. They pounded again, harder. Robert backed up. The next time they pounded on the door, they kicked it down. The man with the knife ran over to Robert, grabbed him, which made Robert dropp the stuff he held, and threw him to the floor. " This is what you get for not helping me! " the man yelled, pulling his arm back, and stabbed Robert. Robert tried to scream for help, but what came out were bubbles of blood. The man stopped stabbing Robert and ran out...
(10/14/2012 2:01:00 PM)
For school, we had to write a fictional piece over any choice of topic so long as we used what devices and plotting that we could. So, I titled it " The Wanderings of a Madman"
All was still and dark and cold in the world as Joshua treaded through the woods. The bright, full, silvery moon hid behind a veil of fog, blanketing the tops of the trees. Joshua’s bare feet hurt as he stepped on the rocky, ridged path blindly. His face, arms, and torso stung as thorny branches caught his skin, tearing it as he pulled away and slapping against him when he wasn’t looking. A hoot owl asked him eerie questions that made his raw skin crawl. Then the wind started up and the trees began to shake. Joshua wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold in the heat, but to no avail. The wind whistled in his ears and sweat trickled down his brow. He fell over when he misplaced a foot and a sharp stone cut into his back. When he got back up he felt something warm and runny trickling down his back, and realized it was his blood. To try and spread the little warmth the blood provided Joshua tried as hard as he could to smear the blood all over himself, but sadly, just made a mess of himself and took in no warmth.
The lost team member traveled for about a mile, hopeless that he would find any of his teammates before he froze to death when, as suddenly as it has started, the wind seized and the woods was still again. Once he could hear again with no wind, every noise made him jump, every noise antagonized him, every noise had to be something. It was seemingly useless, and he might as well of sat down and hoped that one of his team member’s found him before a predator did, until a noise so out of place and so familiar bounced in his ears. The sound of metal being slid against leather. It was a ringing sound so brilliant that all at once, Joshua did not think. It had to be one of his teammates. It just had to be. He started walking faster, and faster, and then went into to a jog, then a run, then a sprint, until he ran so fast that he tripped over a branch in the path and went hurtling into a rock. Poor, bruised and bloody Joshua did not wait on the ground for his head to stop throbbing, because it was seconds before he got to his feet and started running, (not quite as quickly) in the direction he remembered the noise coming from.
His heart was pounding in his chest and up his throat. His breathing grew raspy and choppy, and his head hurt so much that he might have cried, but he kept running and hoping. There, he saw the clearing. The wonderful clearing, the awesome clearing, the miraculous clearing that would contain his teammate, he just knew it, he just knew it. I wish I could say that were the case; that his teammate was standing in the clearing with a campfire and a sword ready to defend his teammate from the dangers and ready to feed him with his hunting kill, but it wasn’t the case. Standing inside that clearing, as Joshua burst out of the brush and came rushing toward him, was a man, with long black hair and a deadly looking dagger in his hand. His eyes were wide with fear, but his heart was made cold and numb. When the man saw Joshua sprinting toward him, he immediately took it as a threat and without even looking to see who it was, aimed and threw the dagger at Joshua. He had aimed for his arm, and there it stuck, thick, red blood slowly oozing out of it. Joshua stopped running and starred down at the dagger that had sprouted out of his arm, then gaped at the man who had thrown it. No longer caring that the man could kill him, and probably would, he fell to his knees and threw back his head, laughing as only a mad man can.
The dark haired man just stared at this strange and raving character, cackling his mad calls in the grass. He wore tattered jeans and was barefoot, practically shirtless with a ripped up white and red T-shirt nearly falling off of him and cut up so bad that if he hadn’t been running and laughing, the man would have mistaken him for some poor wild animal who had narrowly escaped the grasp of a predator. Of course, he knew, that Joshua wouldn’t live to see the morning, nor did he really care, but he was a hunter and refused to let this man make noises that would scare away his game. He drew another dagger, making the same noise that Joshua had heard earlier and raised it to throw it, but froze as Joshua looked up abruptly and stared at him with sad, watery, blue eyes and said, “Please, just make it fast.” This totally shocked the hunter. How would this mad man say such a sane thing?He mustn’t have really been mad, or maybe just for a moment he came back. Then he frowned sideward, and raised his dagger again. Halfway sane or not, he had to be silenced.
Just as the knife left the hunter’s hand, and Joshua started at the ground ready for the pain, a war cry let out and bursting out of the brush, was a large man with a dirk already at hand, charging at the hunter. A slender, tattered and dark clothed figure also appeared, but less abruptly, more so just appearing out of the trees and in front of Joshua, catching the dagger before any harm could be done. When Joshua looked up again he yelped and then tried to jump to his feet, only to fall back down again.
“Tell me you didn’t just try to kill Joshua! ” The large man barked at the hunter whom he had backed up against a tree with his dirk to his throat. The hunter stared back at him emptily.
“Tye, he’s tried once already.” The slender figure by Joshua said pulling out the dagger in his shoulder and bandaging it with part of his cloak.
With that the large man, Tye, grabbed the hunter’s shoulders and slammed him against the tree. “Who do you think you are to try and kill Joshua?What did he ever do to you?” His eyes, full of rage, stabbed into the hunter’s cold and heartless soul.
The hunter smiled. “I’m Luke, and he was scaring off my game. I had to do something with all his cackling, I was pretty sure he was near dead anyways.”
Tye was shaking with so much fury that he hardly heard his companion’s feint gasp and exclamation, “Not the same Luke as the prince I would be sure! ”
“The one and the same.” Luke said stubbornly punching Tye in the ribs as his mouth fell agape. Before Tye could do a thing about it, he rolled along the trunk of the tree and slipped into the woods, with less sound than a cat.
The anger had consumed Tye to a point beyond words, that was until he heard Joshua cackle as he had done before, as a mad man could only do. Knowing what the forest could do to one’s mind, Tye softened and walked over to them. “How is he doing, Gareg?
Gareg looked up at Tye and shook his head. “I hate to say, but not too well Tye. I don’t want to agree with the prince, but it looks as if he won’t be living too much longer if he stays here.”
“Well then, ” Tye said stooping down by Joshua and picking him up as gently as he could, “we’ll just have to get him out of here and somewhere better suited.”
The grim figure stood up to his full, towering height and nodded, “To the old healer we discovered yesterday. She’ll know how to help him.”
With no other words, and only the sounds of the forest and the madness of Joshua, they trod onward through the forest, navigating their way only by vague landmarks and directions of the wind. Yes, the wind had picked up to whistling it’s solemn tune in the trees. The owls joined along with the bugs and the bats. All at once, the two men heard what sounded as if their friend was joining in too, with mysterious humming, so depressing and sad that it sounded as if the whole forest was anticipating Joshua’s death, including Joshua himself and the noise echoed on through the land for the miles and miles that they walked.
Gareg’s eyes were leaking as he first saw the misty, orange, pink glow of the sun peaking its head through the branches for the first time in the longest night he had ever experienced, and this time, he did not curse it, but blessed it.
The door sighed as they opened it to into the entranceway to the quaint little shack bound together with little more than a twig and a prayer. The healer was sitting in her corner of a parlor as they set fading Joshua down on the table and asked for her help. She hobbled to her cupboards and drew out many instruments and potions, only few of which she took some interest in and brought them over to where Joshua lay.
All was still and dark and cold as she worked. It was as if the world was holding its breath for him and the sun ascended no higher in the sky before finally she stopped and walked into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. It was not minutes later that Tye noticed that the raspy breathing of Joshua had faded and jolted to see if he was alive. In a great surprise, he found himself looking at his comrade, awake and looking around curiously. “Where am I?” he asked Tye.
“Have a cup of tea my dear! ” The healer said from her post in the kitchen, and came waddling in to hand it to him. The pungent smell of mint awakened Joshua even more and he was aware of the world around him, the chirping of birds, the clucking of the healer’s hens, the wind’s no longer cold song, and the warm feel of the sun’s rays beaming on him through the open window. The world was alive as he was alive and everything was miraculous.
(9/20/2012 6:11:00 PM)
Short story. Notice I did not use the following set of terms: " is, are, am, was, were, be been, have, has, had, could, should, and would."
This was a writing exercise that I highly recommend. I'd say the hardest part was thinking of something to write about. Anyways, give it a try. You'll be amazed.
Acme of the Night
Silver silk blanketed the black mist of the forest. The sky’s freckles dotted the night’s ceiling. The gentle breeze’s breath sighed against the branches of towering trees, cool air sweeping through the land.
I walked northeast, using the specks of light above my head to guide me on my path. The celestial lights greatly improved my ability to see. Soon I reached a barren meadow with small patches and clumps of grass scattered across the glade.
Immediately I heard sounds of festive merriment. I looked toward the glade’s center, at the orange, warm glow emanating through the night. I reached the rim of a crater about ten meters in diameter and several meters deep, its center providing a large, wispy fire. Encompassing the roaring flame, young men and women laughed, danced, sang and ate in the earthen bowl, unaware of my presence.
Nevertheless, I smiled, content to see my friends after years of no contact. I finally arrived at the reunion we all planned a decade and a half ago. Late, I drew in a calm breath before they noticed me. At once, a chorus of gay greetings resounded in my heart. I joined the feast, appreciating the warmth of the fire and the food in my belly. We all shared a laugh and recounted events of our passed travels.
“The acme of the night, ” I said, smiling while proposing a toast. “ To good food, good song, and good friends.”
(9/8/2012 10:47:00 AM)
An excerpt from the novel I'm writing: " The Dawn of Death"
I accidentally deleted it so I took the opportunity to improve it a bit.
Hope you enjoy.
Enorith walked down a dark alleyway. Heavy drops of rain pounded against his hooded head. A mask concealed all but Enorith’s dark, cold eyes. A black cloak kept him warm from the chilly autumn air and his leather boots splashed into puddles along the cobblestone.
Enorith’s mind raced. He did not trust his client. This deal was very secretive. His client was very strict as to when and where they should meet. His client was wary, and he too wished to conceal his identity. However, Enorith was no fool. He had sources everywhere. His client’s name was Bonrun Hoaling. This powerful man was head of the Reklah, the police force of the Sentian Nation. His age was thirty-seven and he had brown hair and green eyes. He had a wife and two children. He lived in this city, Falsum, and he wished to meet Enorith in person.
As Enorith reached the far end of the alley, a stocky man emerged from the shadows. Enorith cocked his head in response, curious to know why he was summoned here tonight. A deep voice rumbled from behind the man’s concealed face.
Enorith held up his left hand, removing his glove in the process. Bonrun smiled from beneath the cloth covering his face as he observed the obsidian encrusted ring on Enorith’s pale index finger. Bonrun led Enorith through a door to the right.
Enorith said nothing and stepped into a dimly lit setting. The interior was small, the main hall branched off to the right and left, leading to two separate rooms. Enorith waited for his client to finish locking the door, his pale hand twitching to reach for his dagger. When making a deal, it was crucial to know your client. Since this man was head of the Reklah, he might have motives to kill Enorith. Locking the door didn’t help gain Enorith’s trust.
Bonrun led him to the room on the left, where a single candle on a small table lit the small room. He and Enorith sat in the two chairs placed by the wooden table. Enorith glanced around, noticing the chaotic mess of books and parchments lying on several bookshelves and a desk.
“I have wanted to meet you for a long time, ” Bonrun stated.
Bonrun received a cold stare as a response. Nevertheless, he continued.
“What I am about to tell you is strictly confidential. You will not tell a single soul.”
Enorith chuckled, forcing a frown on Bonrun’s face. The authority in his client’s voice was so evident. Already, despite wanting his identity secret, his client revealed much.
“What’s so funny, may I ask?”
A low, smooth voice answered. It was calm and lethal. “Your tone of voice is authoritative. This suggests you are accustomed to giving orders or leading people.”
This made Bonrun falter slightly. He spoke again, making no effort to change his tone. There was no point. “That is irrelevant.”
“I beg to differ, ” Enorith challenged. “Carry on.”
Enorith couldn’t help but smile. He had just made it clear who holds the power in the room. He could feel Bonrun’s confidence wither as he continued.
“Several others and I have devised a coup.”
This sparked Enorith’s interest. A high-ranking officer planning a coup?This conspiracy had to be promising. He leaned in, having brought his full attention to Bonrun’s words.
“We plan to kill the king, queen and their heirs, ” Bonrun said quietly. “It is time for this nation to have proper rulers, not some tyrants swimming in their own wealth.”
“I see, ” Enorith said. “You need my help for this grand reformation.”
“Yes, your skills are unparalleled.”
“You realize you’re making an illegal Black Connection for contacting me?”
Bonrun scoffed. “A coup to take the throne is far worse than contacting you.”
“And you plan to take the king’s seat?”
Bonrun nodded. “I have been elected to rule should our plan succeed.”
“State my benefit in all this.”
“All of your charges will be cleared and you will be paid a handsome price, ” Bonrun said with confidence. “Do we have a deal?”
“Name the price.”
“50,000 gold pieces for each kill.”
Enorith thought about it for a few moments. The Royal Family would earn him a sum of 250,000 gold pieces, decimating the record of “high price” kills he’s made. “Yes, I believe we do.”
They shook hands on it, not that it mattered to Enorith. He could break a deal as easily as he could kill this man. Then again, how could Enorith be sure Bonrun would keep his end of the bargain?If he did not, Bonrun’s death would be imminent.
Bonrun stood from his seat and looked through the piles of documents scattered across the desk. After a few minutes of searching, Bonrun found and handed Enorith the details of the assassinations.
“These will tell you everything you need to know, ” Bonrun said. “Target descriptions, target behaviors and habits, the date and locations of the killings, etcetera.”
Enorith looked them over in quick glances. As he analyzed the papers, Bonrun sat back in his chair. After a few minutes of silence, Enorith looked at Bonrun.
“How did you come by such valuable information?”
Bonrun cleared his throat. It was his turn to gain the upper hand. “You aren’t the only one with resources.”
“Well, of course, ” Enorith said coolly. Bonrun cleared all of Enorith’s dubious thoughts about his identity. This really was the commander of the Reklah.
“Now, ” Bonrun said. “I have a question for you.”
“How are you so skilled?”
“Would you care to elaborate further?”
“After all your assassinations, not one Reklah was able to apprehend or kill you, ” Bonrun said. “Even the finest officers known throughout the nation were killed by your hand. They could not stop you.”
Enorith hesitated, thinking about the futility of the Commander’s question. “Do you really believe that I would tell you?”
“I suppose not.”
Enorith chuckled again. It’s only natural for the Commander to sympathize over his fallen subordinates. Enorith stood to leave, taking the documents with him. “I will follow the written instructions and discuss with you further plans in the future.”
“Very well, ” Bonrun said. “Until then.”
He led Enorith to the door. The assassin stepped outside in the pouring rain, chuckling. Once again, Bonrun frowned. Enorith began striding away silently before stopping to face the officer.
“As for your question, ” Enorith said slyly, “There is a reason why they call me the Dawn of Death.”
That concluded tonight’s meeting, Bonrun watching the greatest assassin in history fade into the shadow of the night.
(9/7/2012 9:28:00 AM)
Another one from me.
Wishing you were dead is like wishing for a dream, but when you're close to death, when you actually see it, huh it becomes a mutherfuckin nightmare.
Life is not easy, everybody knows that, some people live just the bad days waiting for the good ones, suddenly they found their selves in a deep sleep or better yet they don't find their self anymore.It's exhausting.
Being a good person means respect, and being yourself too.
What if I'm crazy?
What if I'm bad and that's me?Will there be respect anymore?
There's where I lose my point.
I sit in this big table surrounded by a lot of people, most strangers, different faces, different lifes.Their talk is making me nervous, their voice sound is killing my ears it's like they speak words with no sense.
Trying to fit in this moment, with a fake smile on my face, in front of me I saw standing a little creature..Looking me deep in the eye he said: Are you happy?
I couldn't understand, is it even possible to see inside a human body, while just looking in the eye you can see the feeling hiding inside.
Standing in front of him speechless I knew I would lie, so I said I am.
Everynight we go to sleep and we don't know sure if we're gonna wake up in the morning, but still we set the alarm.In that poor desert waiting for that little dropp of rain people still live.It's something we call hope and I think that forced me to reply that little boy that way, cuz even if youre heart is broken, even if it is falling to pieces, even if you think your world is falling down, just when you think of wishing that wish i told you in the firs line just stop and breathe.There's someone watching over, if people can't make you smile for real, he will.
Sometimes I lose the sence of time, I feel like I don't belong here, like a stranger.I wish I would live in a differnet time when there will be memory cleaning machines.
If you're asking why try to remember why the most time we are sad.We lose people, moments, joys in time and all we have are memories.One day you'll be sitting in your room, looking the photos, browsing the memories and you'll be sad cuz they're gone.So I would rather clean it all.
But, when I think what are we living for if we don't remember what we've done, so what are we doing?
If there were no words, it would be a white paper which means nothing.If it's nothing it can not be called a life.And here I am, in this life labyrinth losing my sense, again.
As you see there are different ways to judge life, different eyes you can look through, different things you should hold on to.
That's why we pray when we're sick to get healthy, that's why we cry when someone leaves, why we laugh when we see the sunset.That's why we live our life through everything.That's why we ask when we alredy know the answer.
(9/6/2012 9:28:00 AM)
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I love writing, this is one of my favourite, i wrote it a few days ago..
Our short story
There's a time in life you wish you could just push the stop button and hold that moment for life. There is this huge power feeling that fills your body, it flows in your veins and makes you feel alive.
It's always the same, always the same story just differnet persons.Two people fall in love in the first or second sight, get to know each other in time and pray that one day they will be not the one missing the other.
My story's differenet I guess.These two people knew each other at the first blink, started missing each other after the first met, and than they fell in love forever.
She was a hard person, never believed in something like butterfly feeling, never understanding that word, never able to accept it, always that comfortable distance with people.
I guess it made her feel safe and just right.But in her road of emptiness she found a way to let a light shine on her and did what she never thought she would.Felt in Love.
He was her way of freedom, the key of her happiness and gave her everything, literally.It was fate.
What's life without love?
What's love without you?To me there's a simple word that replies to these questions... emptiness.
Others say that the biggest fear is losing your self in someone, I think that's wrong.Losing someone that means everything to you is like losing your self, that's the biggest fear.So, I wish I'll never lose you.
I thought I will never have a reason to wake up in the morning and feel anger and joy at once.And than you happened.I had a reason to be thankful to god that blessed me with a person like you and be angry why next to me is a empty place where you should be.But yeahh all we need is patience.
I don't know if it is a disease but I don't wanna wake up in the morning and not feel its pain.Maybe I'm lost, but it's my fairytale.Maybe I cry but they're tears fo joy.In the end I smile cuz I see your face.
I guess these are the symptoms of Love!
(9/5/2012 7:38:00 PM)
This is another excerpt of yet another book, (this excerpt is from chapter seven so dont be confused if you dont know the characters) and well, I enjoyed writing this piece because it demonstrated the strength of the main character's mind and his determination to get things done. Please enjoy. (Note that the characters in this excerpt are children, not adults)
Lynl called out in front of everybody, “Hey twerp! Are you ready to get your limbs pulled off and have them fed to you?” His companions guffawed at the idea, Ryld bending forward and hugging his stomach.
Kadien shrugged the blow off, trying to ignore it, and on the outside it seemed that he hadn’t been effected that greatly over it, but on the inside he was seething with anger. I wouldn’t be so sure that I will be the one eating my own limbs today, Lynl. He thought to himself.
Caleb and Kade had taken a place near the door and when the Commanding Officer strode through the door, followed by the secretary, Caleb nearly hit the ceiling. “Class, we have a demonstration today.” The older children whooped and cheered, ready for the bloodshed to begin. It was during this time of chaos that Kade noticed that the secretary was carrying some sort of green and orange case in the crook of her arm. He recognized it as the first aid kit from the desk in the lobby, but he wasn’t surprised at the sight of it.
“Lynl Shar of Major Jr. rank, please step onto the mat.” Lynl, the tall, swarthy and over-joyed character, stepped giddily forward punching a fist into his hand.
“Kadien Giles of Minor Jr. rank, please proceed onto the opposite side of the mat.” Kade uncrossed his arms and walked toward Lynl. Behind his competitor he could see Ypt, Ryld and a few others making slicing motions across their necks and mouthing the words, You are going down, to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jobe staring at him with those hazel eyes of his.
“Do you both know why you are here?” The Commanding officer asked the both of them with the prompting of the secretary, although really, like all the others in the room, all he wanted was a fight.
Lynl looked about ready to do a jig, he was so happy and gleefully said, “Because Little Sissy Boy here can’t control his temper or mind his superiors.” With that more snorting came from behind him. Then the Commanding Officer smiled and looked at Kadien, gesturing for him to speak.
Clenching his fists, staring at the ground and through clenched teeth Kade replied, “We are here because Mr. Too-Big-For-His-Brain can’t control his attitude.” He was bombarded glares from around the room and the single note of “ooohh” was passed around.
“Good, so now you two can settle this yourselves. When I count to five you may begin. There will be no rules other than you may not kill or seriously injure your partner and leave each other’s parents out of it. Also, there will be no weapons or use of other people.” The Commander cackled and dropped his fist into his hand, the national Namicean sign that meant start.
Lynl, angry at the comment that Kadien had made about him not moments before, didn’t take time to clear his head and charged the younger boy in a large bear hug. Kade, being about two years younger and small for his age, was not near as strong as Lynl, but he knew how to get out of a grip such as this. He spat in Lynl’s eye causing him to lurch back in disgust which gave Kade just enough time to knee him in the gut. The older boy doubled over in pain, but in the motion of bending down he snatched Kade’s shoulders and drove his foot into his shin.
Kade cried out as he found the floor rushing up to him and a sharp pain in his shoulder blade came from Lynl’s heel stomping into it. Before Lynl could do it again, however, Kade rolled over onto his back and jumped up dodging what could have been a hammer to the head.
Then Kade thought of something he had learned in weapon’s mastery class. How the reach of a swordsmen, an axe-men, a mace-men, and so forth was far from their body, and that if you could get in between their body and their weapon they would be more vulnerable. So, even though Lynl had no weapon, he compared his blows to the weapon of choice and got inside the hole. Lynl was so surprised that he gave Kade a couple seconds to jab all of his strength into his chest, pushing him backward and knocking him off balance initially on the mat.
His eyes widened, but he got up quicker than lightning and was coming back at Kade so abruptly that he didn’t have time to think. There he was, in Kade’s face and hammering down on his shoulder. Kade cried out again, but spun around and tried to kick Lynl in the hip. Of course, it was the obvious move to Lynl and he caught the foot and spun it, sending Kade flying into a wall where two Minor Jr. girls had to jump out of the way to keep from being hit.
During the flight, Kade had closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found his arm was in the wall and Lynl was leaning back, laughing at him with every other indecent person in the room. Once again, Kade got up to his feet, despite the laughter and the gasps of disbelieve that he would have the bravery to do so, wiped the corner of his bleeding mouth with his stinging wrist (the one that had once been in the wall) and advanced back toward Lynl. It seemed like hours, (even though really it was only one) that they continued to fight. Though really, it wasn’t too much of a fight after Kade’s flight. Mainly, it was just Kade getting up and coming back at Lynl after he send him across the room or in some painful position.
The room was dumbstruck, except for the Commanding Officer who seemed to enjoy Kadien’s beating all too much. Nobody believed that somebody as young as Kadien and with the least amount of fighting experience in the room, could just get up and keep going as much as he did. Yet Kade took blow after blow, the whole time thinking about everybody he ever hated, and what they had done to him and Caleb. He thought about the soldiers on his first day, in their rooms gearing up with malicious looks plastered to their faces. He even thought about the king and how cruel he had been to him and his father. Most of all, he thought about how his father would react if he were to see him now. Anger and pride blinded him, so he could hardly land a punch, but when he did, he could see in Lynl’s expression that it hurt.
The fight was broken up by the bell. Nobody except the brawlers had hardly moved in the room since the beginning of class, and they all had to rush to their next class (all being late for the fought drug them long into practice and gathering periods.) Kade rushed into Weapon’s Mastery with a limp, a swollen lip, a black eye, a messed up shoulder and bruises beyond belief. People who had been in the class before with him pointed at him and whispered about him to the others who hadn’t seen the brawl and some even looked scared of him. Although there was one thing Kade knew, and that was he hurt, he was sure that he had lost the fight. That wouldn’t happen again.
(8/18/2012 10:37:00 PM)
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This is an excerpt from a might-be-book that I am writing. No promises yet, but I'm working on it.
Villains and Rescuers Excerpt #1
“You horrible woman! ” Vincent screamed at Tracy as she walked away. “I will put a bomb on your car! ”
Tracy turned around and then said to him, without a hint of worry or any other expression in her face, “Then I won’t drive my car.” After saying this, she turned back around and kept walking down the sidewalk.
He wasn’t done threatening her yet though. No, this was just the beginning. “I will put a bomb under your bed! ” He hissed in her ear, following her along the sidewalk.
With the same blank expression she replied, “Then I shall not sleep in my bed.”
“I will put a bomb on all of the doors in your house! ” He said with an evil chuckle, trying to figure out how she would get herself out of this one.
“Then I will not enter my house.” And on she walked, not missing a pace.
“Your family and friends might! How about your boyfriend or your sister! Hmmm?What about them?They have cars too and beds and houses, and I know exactly where they are! ” The threats kept threading onto his string of hatred and into her ear, but she was done with him.
Tracy whipped around and shook her fist at him. “Forget what I said about not driving my car, or sleeping in my bed, or entering my home, for I think I will. You are welcome to put a bomb wherever you like, but I don’t think any of them will trigger. I believe that the Lord has other plans for me. So if you would kindly stop this threatening business to yourself. Do what you will and I will do what I will. I will most certainly not bring my life to a halt because of some uncertain death threats! ”
With that Tracy whipped back around and sped to the corner of the street that she had to cross. She mashed the button with her right thumb and saw that she had a cut on her arm. It was bleeding, but not badly. She shrugged and watched the light across the street, readily aimed for the opposite side.
“How about bullets; or knives; or maybe poison?I think any of those would do the trick quite nicely. Your boyfriend, he usually drinks coffee in the mornings from that large blue cup doesn’t he?Yes, I think my plan is figured out most nicely.” He said, viciously as the light turned green. This time, as she moved, he didn’t follow her but raised his voice more and more as she grew farther away from him.
Tracy knew what to do though, and mouthed the words, do what you will, to him then didn’t look back to see his reaction. Not that she would have liked it, for on his face, was plastered a giant, horrible smirk so evil that the devil himself might not have been about to procure anything more terrible.
(8/14/2012 11:04:00 PM)
I know this peice may not be as good as some of my others, but I still enjoy reading it to myself sometimes. I also wrote this one is school.
" The Three Nimble Figures"
If you live in the place where the ocean crashes against the large, sharp rocks that lead into the forest you have heard of the Legend of the three nimble figures. Sadly not many storytellers live in this place. So if you don’t live there you don’t know. Since I have a source who told me the story you’ll hear it straight from this pen. Shadows engulf the forest and ocean at night, reflecting on the rock and salty water. If you’re out a’walkin around by the shore you may come across a queer sight to see. Three figures standing on top of the highest rock that there is. They’re all clothed in white, their faces covered where only their eyes can be seen. And mysterious they are, a sparkling shade of green, brown and grey. No words are said and hardly a sound comes, caused by them. The only one that knows, where they go when they leave that rock, is he. The one who told me for one night he followed them into the thick, scraggly woods. These figures do not travel like normal beings on the ground walking or running. Instead they use vines and branches, leaping and swinging like apes. My informant wouldn’t say how he managed to follow them for he isn’t near as nimble. Anyway he went, he got there somehow to discover the entered a tiny, crooked old snack. A dingy old lamp lit the one room shack dimly. He sat by the window and watched them unbind their heads. A black haired young man, a brown haired lady and a dark haired man. They stood around the lamp and spoke in hearty voices. Names were mentioned of friends. Places they had been and things they had done. Obviously they had been old friends with stories to tell. The lady stepped closer to the light, that’s when the onlooker realized her hair was golden. A silver trinket swung around her neck. She pulled it off and twirled it around her finger. The chain necklace clinked around. After my informant got comfortable, his chin rested on the splintered window sill it got quiet. Out of nowhere the light went out and something large was flung at his head. The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the ground. A bright white light flashed in three different places. All that was left was a silver medallion on a silver chain, reflecting off moonlight. To this day my informer never saw them again.
(8/6/2012 10:03:00 PM)
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This is an excerpt from a novel I'm writing called " The Last Eclipse."
Iravik led his friends into a small town. As the sun fell and faded into darkness, most people made their way home to their houses. The golden glow of warm fires emanated from the windows as they passed. Alkara and Sveyna chatted quietly as they followed Iravik into the tavern. As they all entered, a man accidentally bumped into Iravik.
“Oh, sorry, lad, ” the man mumbled.
He excused himself as he exited the tavern. Iravik’s eyes narrowed as he came to a realization. He followed the man with seething fury, easily noticed by his friends.
“Iravik?” Alkara asked cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
“Go rent a room, ” Iravik said. “I’ll be with you shortly.”
Iravik left a bag of coins in her gentle hands as he strode after the man who bumped him. Iravik saw the man enter a large house, worthy for a noble’s living quarters. Slamming his fist on the thick wood, Iravik couldn’t wait to get inside. He heard an impatient voice behind the door.
“What is it now?”
Iravik kept pounding the door, despite the throbbing pain his fist felt. This pain, however, was nothing compared to the pain he was about to inflict. The man opened the door and realized who it was.
“Oh, it’s you, ” he said tiredly. “I already said I was sorry. Go home.”
Iravik lunged, wrapping his strong hands around the man’s neck. “You left it to burn! ”
Pushing the man further into his house, Iravik slammed him against a wall with merciless force. Tossing the man throughout the house, he cried, “Why do you attack me?”
“You don’t remember me?” Iravik demanded. This fact fueled his anger to a dangerous degree. “You bastard! ”
Iravik kneed the man in the groin and landed an uppercut to his chin. The man landed hard on the wooden floor and rolled away in pain, winding up in the dining hall. Iravik hated the pathetic behavior of this weakling. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling provided plenty of light to illuminate Iravik’s furious face.
“You better damn well remember who I am! ”
Iravik charged the man as he stood up. A powerful kick to the chest sent the man crashing into several, elegant chairs. The sight of all this wealth drove Iravik to possibly kill this man.
“Look at me! ”
The man obeyed, almost whimpering. The man’s dark eyes widened as he looked into Iravik’s eyes.
“My God! ” he whispered. “I remember now! ”
“Then you remember what you did! ”
Iravik gripped a chair, swung it up in the air, and slammed it down onto the man, reducing the chair to large splinters. As the man groaned in pain, Iravik walked over to the dining table and flipped it over, its edge driving into the man’s ribs. Iravik turned as a woman and two children walked inside the house.
“What the hell! ” she cried. “Leave my husband alone! ”
HUSBAND?he thought angrily.
Iravik veered towards the man, lifting him up by the collar of his tunic. He began grinding the man’s face against the wall until Iravik finally threw him into a cabinet containing ceramics behind glass doors. With a loud crash, the cabinet erupted into an explosion of skin piercing glass and ceramic shards.
Iravik had enough. A ball of fire ignited in Iravik’s palm.
“Die, you fucking coward! ”
The flame exploded on contact, the blaze ignoring everything but its target. As the fire died down, Iravik discovered the man was still alive, broken, but alive. A transparent veil of darkness shielded the man, acting as a protective bubble. Iravik looked around to see who cast the shadow.
He was shocked to see Alkara standing in front of the woman and children, tearing.
“I couldn’t let you kill him, Iravik, ” she said.
Iravik nodded awkwardly, trembling from his adrenaline and bloodlust. He fled the scene, leaving Alkara with a horrified family with a broken husband and father. After a few hours of searching, Alkara and Sveyna found Iravik weeping at the base of a lone tree down the road. She knelt next to him, embracing him. She held him, comforting him as he sobbed.
“He left us, ” Iravik cried. “He left us to die! ”
Iravik had almost killed his last living family member. He almost killed his very own father.
This piece displays the anger and resentment of the main character's feelings towards his father. Iravik lost his family and home to a demon. What may be confusing is how the characters summoned fire and shields of shadow. Iravik is a Radiant, one with the power to control fire and other forms of light. Alkara is a Shade, one with the power to control shadows and any other forms of darkness. If you wish to know more, feel free to contact me. Hoped you enjoyed!
Happy Birthday Naim Frashëri!
(1846-1900) Albanian poet and writer
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