He didn’t know what to expect, he could prepare for most things, anything life could throw at him in fact, but not this. He knew that any minute he would flick into autopilot mode, the training would kick in and he would go with the flow. He surmised that dealing with the dead was just that little more edgier then dealing with the living, on second thoughts, perhaps not.
Hooks; let's write 'em.
- Thread starter Saltheart
- Start date
Pravuil
Bona na Croin
Jacob had always been a religious boy, growing up in the small fishing town of Salem there was but little to entertain the mind and Jacob found his wandering more oft than naught--a facet of his personality that religion appeased greatly. Many boys of his age would skim over a page or two of their various holy books and not pick that very book up again for another year--not Jacob, in fact Jacob could be found reading his bible every night and every day, ignoring the trifling scrufles the people around him considered 'bad'. Jacob knew they didn't know what true 'bad' was, and so he passed the locale's ignorance off to a mortal's ignorance.
Now, at the moment our young Jacob sat in a corner slowly dimming with the sun's vivid setting, the corner in which Jacob was being of some out-of-the-way alley bottom of ignoble status. An uncanny dark settled over Jacob's position and floating globes of mercurialy flickering light played about the boy, all of prismatic and divers colors. Thin tendrils of utter shadow began to chase the eerie balls around the alley, but Jacob seemed not to mind. The wind picked up, scattering many loose bits of trash that such a sordid district of any city was wont to attract. The pieces of discarded goods, food, and items violently slammed against the worn brick wall surrounding the ally, as if held by an unseen force. Still, Jacob's eyes remained steady and his bearing unchanged as he continued to read his bible...
Amidst the savage winds a more subtler breeze gently alighted on Jacob's ears...and with the wind were borne subtle, convincing words. "Jacob, join me". A content smile spread across Jacob's face, a wicked contentment that spread from ear to ear. A childish laugh filled the air, mockingly tainted in it's delivery. "Yes Mom, one more page" said Jacob.
...little did the towns-people know Jacob's reading of the Bible brought all of their past horrors to fruition once more...
Now, at the moment our young Jacob sat in a corner slowly dimming with the sun's vivid setting, the corner in which Jacob was being of some out-of-the-way alley bottom of ignoble status. An uncanny dark settled over Jacob's position and floating globes of mercurialy flickering light played about the boy, all of prismatic and divers colors. Thin tendrils of utter shadow began to chase the eerie balls around the alley, but Jacob seemed not to mind. The wind picked up, scattering many loose bits of trash that such a sordid district of any city was wont to attract. The pieces of discarded goods, food, and items violently slammed against the worn brick wall surrounding the ally, as if held by an unseen force. Still, Jacob's eyes remained steady and his bearing unchanged as he continued to read his bible...
Amidst the savage winds a more subtler breeze gently alighted on Jacob's ears...and with the wind were borne subtle, convincing words. "Jacob, join me". A content smile spread across Jacob's face, a wicked contentment that spread from ear to ear. A childish laugh filled the air, mockingly tainted in it's delivery. "Yes Mom, one more page" said Jacob.
...little did the towns-people know Jacob's reading of the Bible brought all of their past horrors to fruition once more...
Last edited:
Talysia
Lady of Autumn
Lol, Buskydudd, I'll have to give it a try. At first it was just something that popped into my mind for this thread. I like the idea of writing it as a short story, though, so we'll see how it goes.
Outside, the storm was just getting started. A short while earlier, the power had cut out, leaving me without electricity, but I had found a candle and a pack of matches on the sideboard and had lit it before the light became too bad. Now I was just reading my book in that dim light, listening to the violent winds battering at the windows and doors and hoping that the power would come back on soon.
When the first bang at the door came, I jumped so much that I nearly knocked the candle over. I went to the window but could see no-one there, so I reasoned that it must have been the wind, knocking something on the porch outside against the door. Feeling somewhat sheepish, I returned to my book, sitting down and trying to find the right page with shaking hands. The wind seemed to get worse, and I shivered, only partly because I was cold.
When door banged a second time, I did knock the candle over.
Hmm, I'm not too pleased with how this one turned out. I'll try and do better next time.
Outside, the storm was just getting started. A short while earlier, the power had cut out, leaving me without electricity, but I had found a candle and a pack of matches on the sideboard and had lit it before the light became too bad. Now I was just reading my book in that dim light, listening to the violent winds battering at the windows and doors and hoping that the power would come back on soon.
When the first bang at the door came, I jumped so much that I nearly knocked the candle over. I went to the window but could see no-one there, so I reasoned that it must have been the wind, knocking something on the porch outside against the door. Feeling somewhat sheepish, I returned to my book, sitting down and trying to find the right page with shaking hands. The wind seemed to get worse, and I shivered, only partly because I was cold.
When door banged a second time, I did knock the candle over.
Hmm, I'm not too pleased with how this one turned out. I'll try and do better next time.
She was only a breath away from a full panic attack. A scream infested her voice box and crawled up until it reached the back of her throat ready to burst into her mouth. Something lightly touched her arm and the shock of the contact stampeded the infestation throughout her entire body forcing it to emerge as silent as the breath she had yet to take.
Pravuil
Bona na Croin
The motley man known heretofore as Balmis the fool stood silent, meditating on the recent developments, his once merry bells proffering hollow jingles in a vain attempt to assauge the trolls pain. Standing on a rush-littered floor was Balmis, and surrounding him a shabby wooden hut that was an excuse of a home, not too disheveled of a dwelling considering it belonged to a troll however. On the eastward side of the home was a small portal, all too small for a troll to pass through without hunching, constructed of three grey slabs of stone that formed the supports and lintel. Without door was the portal, allowing ample sun to pour in through it's make, the only other location in the hovel admitting light being behind Balmis--a gaping, convexial hole in the wall grated with wattle, so as to resemble a wicker imprisonment of sorts.
Only if he had known, thought Balmis, as he began to dolefully cry in his once smooth, fleshy hands, now flawed with sickly green hair that carried with it a musty odor everywhere he ventured. Only if he had known...The troll's contagion had set in very promptly, as the chunk the troll had ripped out of Belmis' arm allowed for easy access of the vitals. Indeed, Belmas had suceeded in his mission to fell the small country's bane, but what princess would fondle over him now, what, with his pungent scent and ugly matt of grizzled, stained hair, all accented in various places with crumbs of month old food and brusquely plaited in others.
A shrilling keen emitted from Belmis Half-man, who would be later known as the Third Greenman, the piercing lament rebuffing the chirps of birds and play of squirrels. Belmis the troll rooted his disturbed countenance deeper into his arms, which were bristling with hair he wasn't accustomed to, solemnly offering his grievances for anyone to hear.
And this, readers, is why trolls are such a nasty and uncouth lot you see.
Only if he had known, thought Balmis, as he began to dolefully cry in his once smooth, fleshy hands, now flawed with sickly green hair that carried with it a musty odor everywhere he ventured. Only if he had known...The troll's contagion had set in very promptly, as the chunk the troll had ripped out of Belmis' arm allowed for easy access of the vitals. Indeed, Belmas had suceeded in his mission to fell the small country's bane, but what princess would fondle over him now, what, with his pungent scent and ugly matt of grizzled, stained hair, all accented in various places with crumbs of month old food and brusquely plaited in others.
A shrilling keen emitted from Belmis Half-man, who would be later known as the Third Greenman, the piercing lament rebuffing the chirps of birds and play of squirrels. Belmis the troll rooted his disturbed countenance deeper into his arms, which were bristling with hair he wasn't accustomed to, solemnly offering his grievances for anyone to hear.
And this, readers, is why trolls are such a nasty and uncouth lot you see.
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2008
- Messages
- 8,072
I'd been in that two-geld town for three hours before they sent a man after me. I was in the marketplace, arguing with the orange seller, when I felt something and glanced round. A tall, thin man with a close-cut beard looked away too quickly, too obviously, and as he did a blue spark jumped between the fingers of his right hand.
Some sort of hired wizard. Someone wanted me a lot.
I let him follow me out of the square, turned into a long alley and heard his stride get longer as he drew close. The church bell rang midday, and I spun round, hit the inside of his elbow to make it bend and shoved his sparking hand into his chest.
He went down like a dropped puppet. I stood over him, panting, and drew my knife, watching him as he began to move again. The bells stopped ringing. The man on the ground looked hurt and confused, as if I'd turned on him for no reason.
"Bitch!" he said.
Some sort of hired wizard. Someone wanted me a lot.
I let him follow me out of the square, turned into a long alley and heard his stride get longer as he drew close. The church bell rang midday, and I spun round, hit the inside of his elbow to make it bend and shoved his sparking hand into his chest.
He went down like a dropped puppet. I stood over him, panting, and drew my knife, watching him as he began to move again. The bells stopped ringing. The man on the ground looked hurt and confused, as if I'd turned on him for no reason.
"Bitch!" he said.
Pravuil
Bona na Croin
Perched high up in a white oak, arrow drawn and bow nocked was a silent Raisford. Mottled forest green cloak drawn close the ranger apprentice melded seemlessly with his surroundings. The adolescent bided his time by allowing his eyes to dart this way and that, watching the hapless onlookers below pass on their day-to-day business, unaware that there every actions were being markedly observed by cold, uncaring eyes that held a tinge of enmity against everyone and everything.
Raisford heard his target before he saw it. Carrying through the lush valley was a melodious humm, an old wive's tune that had survived the test of ages to be sung even nowadays, when empires were warring and lords dying, although not openly sung, more or lessed hummed as was now the case, for fear of being turned in.
Stirring up a trail of dust behind him came a cumbersome wooden wagon heavily laden with a myriad of goods--baubles, victuals, armament, you name it. Driven by a pair of oxen, both of which were guided with yoke-and-harness, the wagon shook this way and that over the pebbled path, every bump and pothole violently swaying the wagon this way and that, and with every sway almost went the calmly singing teamster, at times moreso than others.
Raisford hunched further within the tree's branching confines, uneasy about the whole situation. Raising the bow Raisford new this was a test of his worth...should he fail the consequences would be unbearable. The boy took every factor into account--windspeed, distance, arrowhead, bow's strength, etc.--before letting the twine bowstring slip from his fingers...
...The arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself fast within the dusty trail, off past the teamster's cart aways. Raisford cursed at first, but when he saw the snapped leather strap lying on the path near the oxen he was relieved. Free from their duress the imposing beasts picked up their pace, and as the leather strap was no longer securing the harness to the oxen they took off at an even greater pace. The sole support of the cart gave out, which would be the over-labored and now frantically running oxen, the bulky contraption slamming to the ground headlong with a thud that resonated of the trees, moreso than the agrived teamster's cry as he was bodily thrown from the wagon a good ten feet or more.
Raisford allowed himself a quaint smile and stole his way back to Robin Hood's quarters, to report his success and gather the raiding party and return to the wagon as expediently as possible--the loot was there's and the poor won from the rich once more!
Raisford heard his target before he saw it. Carrying through the lush valley was a melodious humm, an old wive's tune that had survived the test of ages to be sung even nowadays, when empires were warring and lords dying, although not openly sung, more or lessed hummed as was now the case, for fear of being turned in.
Stirring up a trail of dust behind him came a cumbersome wooden wagon heavily laden with a myriad of goods--baubles, victuals, armament, you name it. Driven by a pair of oxen, both of which were guided with yoke-and-harness, the wagon shook this way and that over the pebbled path, every bump and pothole violently swaying the wagon this way and that, and with every sway almost went the calmly singing teamster, at times moreso than others.
Raisford hunched further within the tree's branching confines, uneasy about the whole situation. Raising the bow Raisford new this was a test of his worth...should he fail the consequences would be unbearable. The boy took every factor into account--windspeed, distance, arrowhead, bow's strength, etc.--before letting the twine bowstring slip from his fingers...
...The arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself fast within the dusty trail, off past the teamster's cart aways. Raisford cursed at first, but when he saw the snapped leather strap lying on the path near the oxen he was relieved. Free from their duress the imposing beasts picked up their pace, and as the leather strap was no longer securing the harness to the oxen they took off at an even greater pace. The sole support of the cart gave out, which would be the over-labored and now frantically running oxen, the bulky contraption slamming to the ground headlong with a thud that resonated of the trees, moreso than the agrived teamster's cry as he was bodily thrown from the wagon a good ten feet or more.
Raisford allowed himself a quaint smile and stole his way back to Robin Hood's quarters, to report his success and gather the raiding party and return to the wagon as expediently as possible--the loot was there's and the poor won from the rich once more!
Lol, Buskydudd, I'll have to give it a try. At first it was just something that popped into my mind for this thread. I like the idea of writing it as a short story, though, so we'll see how it goes.
Outside, the storm was just getting started. A short while earlier, the power had cut out, leaving me without electricity, but I had found a candle and a pack of matches on the sideboard and had lit it before the light became too bad. Now I was just reading my book in that dim light, listening to the violent winds battering at the windows and doors and hoping that the power would come back on soon.
When the first bang at the door came, I jumped so much that I nearly knocked the candle over. I went to the window but could see no-one there, so I reasoned that it must have been the wind, knocking something on the porch outside against the door. Feeling somewhat sheepish, I returned to my book, sitting down and trying to find the right page with shaking hands. The wind seemed to get worse, and I shivered, only partly because I was cold.
When door banged a second time, I did knock the candle over.
Hmm, I'm not too pleased with how this one turned out. I'll try and do better next time.
hey, that's not bad. my own personal preference is to be left utterly, blindingly numb with the creeps. i mentioned hp lovecraft before...your hook had that feel. that was one dude who reached waaaaaay down into the ucky-muck of his primal sub-conscious. stuff that'd be just plain scary to write. can you do that??
how deee-lish...
Talysia
Lady of Autumn
Writing that kind of fiction is not something I usually try - my usual genre is fantasy, but it might be nice to try writing something different for a change.
(I'll post up a new "hook" later, so that I don't go off-topic!)
(I'll post up a new "hook" later, so that I don't go off-topic!)
Everyone knew that an alien lived at number six, but we pretended not to notice.
Talysia
Lady of Autumn
A fog suddenly came in, thick and heavy, obscuring my view of the lake. I had been watching the wildfowl as they fed, just as the sun was coming up, but some sudden event had caused them all to fly off at once. There was no power in my little cabin; my writer's retreat, so I wrote it all down instead, thinking it would give me inspiration.
A movement from the direction of the lake stilled my pen, and I turned to look, thinking the birds had returned. I was quite surprised to see figures in the fog instead, made faint and blurry by the mist, and I wondered what they were doing.
A movement from the direction of the lake stilled my pen, and I turned to look, thinking the birds had returned. I was quite surprised to see figures in the fog instead, made faint and blurry by the mist, and I wondered what they were doing.
crystal haven
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2007
- Messages
- 1,214
He was half drunk swaggering like a pirate, with a brandy bottle clutched in his hand. But he was still making headway towards me. I downed the contents of my glass and poured myself another. We had played this idiotic dance of drunkenness many times before. Grabbing the poker from the side of the hearth I held it high, ready to bring it down on his skull. "Just leave me alone!" I shrieked. "Why can't you take no for an answer? If I could magic you away I would. Just disappear out of my life."
I lowered the poker down to the ground and stared at the place he had been standing. For what was I to do now? I knew that words could be powerful things but I hadn't really expected him to vanish. And Damn! The love of my life had also taken my car keys with him.
I lowered the poker down to the ground and stared at the place he had been standing. For what was I to do now? I knew that words could be powerful things but I hadn't really expected him to vanish. And Damn! The love of my life had also taken my car keys with him.
Talysia
Lady of Autumn
There was no turning back. The man-made Pandora's Box had been opened, and there was no way on Earth to put the contents back inside. The only recourse left was to hunt them down, one by one; to bring the evils that had been locked away either back under control, or to destroy them.
Pravuil
Bona na Croin
It was a darkling night, the cloistering sheet of black broken every now and then by a pinpoint of light, a star, as the fox knew it. Then the tawny-haired fox, Ruadh, saw it in the sky.....a great lozenge made of a refractive and hard-looking wood, and from this huge piece of wood were a myriad of prismatic colors that alighted on the aisles of forest below and flittered in disconcerting patterns. Almost akin to a dance of the fairy people who used to live near his demesnes, thought the small fox. The strange shape effortlessly glided through the air and as it came closer Ruadh could hear a lulling hum, a pressing yet affirmed sound that couldn't possibly hold any danger for him, Ruadh, a simple fox...
...Everywhere did Ruadh's mother search, under rock, over hill, every nook, cranny, and recess in both the forest floor and canopy, but never was Ruadh seen or heard from again in those parts of the forest.
...Everywhere did Ruadh's mother search, under rock, over hill, every nook, cranny, and recess in both the forest floor and canopy, but never was Ruadh seen or heard from again in those parts of the forest.
Talysia
Lady of Autumn
I posted this a while ago in the First Lines thread, so I thought I'd expand on it a bit here.
That evening, I was certain that I had experienced the exact same day for three days straight - and my diary corroborated that fact: Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were all the same, even down to the conversations I had, word for word. The meeting with the strange man outside the office. The phone call from the person who didn't leave their name. Either I was going mad, or something very strange was going on.
(Hmm, didn't quite turn out how I was expecting it, but I'll try better next time)
That evening, I was certain that I had experienced the exact same day for three days straight - and my diary corroborated that fact: Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were all the same, even down to the conversations I had, word for word. The meeting with the strange man outside the office. The phone call from the person who didn't leave their name. Either I was going mad, or something very strange was going on.
(Hmm, didn't quite turn out how I was expecting it, but I'll try better next time
)
Triceratops
ChrisStevenson
Oh, I like that! Stuck in the time loop. Precarious right from the get go.
Tri
Tri
Winter Lord
Trickster in Training
- Joined
- Mar 6, 2007
- Messages
- 174
"EEEEEEEEEEEEE"
Cleveland Alpha, or just Alpha, started out of a sound sleep, and he checked the clock on the sidetable.
"Its 3 *&^%ing AM. Mortimer, if you are just testing the alarms again, I'm gonna rip off your tail, and make you eat it. ^&%$!"
In the distanct, Alpha heard the sound of tree falling over, and the lights flickered. And the sound of sleet hitting the window. He look out of the window, and the sky was clear. Only one thing would cause that type of weather on a summer's night. A Shudder Wave, and from the looks of things, it was going to be a bad one. What new threats would it bring to the world? What new people?
Well, he though to himself, Morty you get to keep your tail.
Cleveland Alpha, or just Alpha, started out of a sound sleep, and he checked the clock on the sidetable.
"Its 3 *&^%ing AM. Mortimer, if you are just testing the alarms again, I'm gonna rip off your tail, and make you eat it. ^&%$!"
In the distanct, Alpha heard the sound of tree falling over, and the lights flickered. And the sound of sleet hitting the window. He look out of the window, and the sky was clear. Only one thing would cause that type of weather on a summer's night. A Shudder Wave, and from the looks of things, it was going to be a bad one. What new threats would it bring to the world? What new people?
Well, he though to himself, Morty you get to keep your tail.
Lord_Rahl
Master of all D'hara
- Joined
- Jan 29, 2008
- Messages
- 24
Kesin stared long and hard at the infant. It looked back with cloudy eyes- Kesin nothing more than a blur to him.
"I'm sorry little Fella, just doin' my job," he said, trying to soothe his own conscience more than the bairn's. He searched around the only room in the lean-to pilfering anything of value. There wasn't much. He looked down at the body of the woman on the floor- his blade still stuck between her shoulder blades.
The baby started crying.
"I'm sorry little Fella, just doin' my job," he said, trying to soothe his own conscience more than the bairn's. He searched around the only room in the lean-to pilfering anything of value. There wasn't much. He looked down at the body of the woman on the floor- his blade still stuck between her shoulder blades.
The baby started crying.
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