So this time I'm going backwards in time. This is a partial scene from Johnathan's story before he met any of the others. (There was an assignment in my fiction course that Johnathan fit really well in).
“I don’t think you understand the situation, Johnny,” Aiden said seriously, but he could not mask his smirk.
“It’s Johnathan,” Johnathan responded through gritted teeth. He looked at his surroundings, noticing several pairs of eyes glowing at him through the darkness. He took a reluctant step back into the cement wall.
Aiden broke into a round of laughter, “You’re nowhere near as dangerous as you think you are.”
“Then kill me,” Johnathan said flatly, bracing himself against the wall.
Aiden contemplated his words, putting his hand under his chin in thought. “I think I have a better idea, I don’t want my new play thing to disappear just when we were getting started,” he mused. He jumped onto the cement wall to sit above Johnathan and to the left. “So young, so small, and so naïve. I’ll just let them play with you for a little while, leave you broken, and yet still alive.”
Johnathan didn’t respond. He would let Aiden believe what he wanted. In truth Johnathan was all of those things and he knew it. However, it was obvious that Aiden was underestimating him; all of them did—they always did, that is right before they lay dead on the ground. He clenched his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms, drawing a modicum amount of blood. But it was just enough to make the spicy, sweet scent fill the air and make those surrounding him crazy to get a piece of him.
They charged, their barred fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Johnathan spared one quick glance at Aiden, who was smiling down at him maliciously, before drawing his dagger. This is for you brother, was his last thought before letting his body and reflexes completely take him over. The first vampire reached him a split-second later. But Johnathan didn’t give him a chance to attack; he kicked his leg out, landing it squarely into the vampire’s chest, forcing him to stumble backwards and into the others behind him. Johnathan then threw his dagger into one that was running at him full speed. The vampire disappeared into dust when the dagger connected with its heart.
There was no time to celebrate over killing the one; there were still plenty more to deal with before he could make his escape. He pulled a second dagger from his belt and barely ducked away from a set of claw-like fingernails that would have scratched out his eyes. He stabbed his dagger into the exposed chest of the vampire, sending ashes in every direction, momentarily blinding those close enough to touch him.
But one didn’t need the use of his eyes to attack. With awareness Johnathan wasn’t sure he had, he slipped through the ashes adding to their count with every vampire he killed. With a pang of regret he remembered smiling after his first kill, but now it just seemed foolish and heartless.
Aiden had stopped smiling at this point; instead he was speechless and captivated by Johnathan’s movements. He had even stood up to get a better view of the fight. Johnathan was good; Aiden had to give him that—very few grade schoolers would have been able to stand up to a vampire, let alone ten.
There were soon only two of Aiden’s vampires remaining. They stood just out of Johnathan’s reach, waiting for the dust to clear from the air before making their move; they wouldn’t make the same mistake as their brothers by getting to close to him. Their eyes appeared scared, but they would still attack him all the same because they knew if they didn’t Aiden would just make them suffer for weeks before finally killing them.
Johnathan surprised them by charging, before he had stuck close to the wall, making it impossible for any of them to sneak up behind him at attack his back. It was suddenly obvious that he had been already planning on his strategy before the fight had begun. But the realization had come too late; Johnathan drew another dagger hidden in his sock and threw the daggers at his last two opponents simultaneously. They were nothing more than a cloud of ashes a moment later.
He whirled back to face Aiden, looking at him wearily.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Brainstorm
I, too, have pictures to share! These are the new versions of two baddies in my game. I'm sure those of you who have played Demo 1 will be able to figure out who they are (although they look nothing like their previous incarnations). Aren't they cute? :D
Demo 2 is still coming. I've been learning Ruby, the programming language my game essentially runs on, so that maybe someday I can write my own scripts for the game and be able to sell it... like, for money, on the internet and stuff. If I can't get a second job, I'll need to find some way to survive, right?
I have also been putting together a master list of items for the game. One thing I dislike about how the program works is that there's no way for the player to sort their items. They will appear in the same order as I program them in, and there's no way for me to insert spaces into the list without moving everything, and since the program references everything by number, inserting items into the list simply won't work. Being the organization freak that I am, I really want everything to be orderly and logical, so that all the potions will be together in one group and the swords will be in another. So what I've done is set up an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of all my items, weapons, etc. and what order I want to put them in. Then, when I'm fairly certain I've created all the items I'm going to create, I can plug in the master list and go through the entire game and fix all the item references. This, of course, will take at least a week. The things I do for this project...
But in the meantime, you guys can help me brainstorm ideas for items, weapons, skills, and the like! That way, I can add more things to the master list now and save myself the trouble later on. If you have any ideas you want to give me, I'd love to hear them! Just so you know, there are twelve elements I use in my game: Fire, Water, Thunder, Earth, Growth (like plants and stuff), Ice, Light, Shadow, Wind, Poison, Gravity (also mass/space), and Time. Physically speaking, there are five attributes: Cut, Stab, Smash, Energy (raw magic power, has no element) and Limit (these skills have high costs and are useful mainly on bosses). It's usually best for skills and weapons to keep to one, MAYBE two attributes. If a Fire/Cut skill hits an enemy who absorbs Fire but is weak to Cut, for instance, the skill will do extra damage. The program goes with the attribute that would do the most damage, instead of averaging out like it probably should. So keeping things to one attribute makes everything a lot simpler. I also have tons of status effects, pretty much everything you'd see in your average RPG. I'm not opposed to adding some if you have any ideas for those, too.
Leave a comment if you have any ideas or questions! :)
Demo 2 is still coming. I've been learning Ruby, the programming language my game essentially runs on, so that maybe someday I can write my own scripts for the game and be able to sell it... like, for money, on the internet and stuff. If I can't get a second job, I'll need to find some way to survive, right?
I have also been putting together a master list of items for the game. One thing I dislike about how the program works is that there's no way for the player to sort their items. They will appear in the same order as I program them in, and there's no way for me to insert spaces into the list without moving everything, and since the program references everything by number, inserting items into the list simply won't work. Being the organization freak that I am, I really want everything to be orderly and logical, so that all the potions will be together in one group and the swords will be in another. So what I've done is set up an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of all my items, weapons, etc. and what order I want to put them in. Then, when I'm fairly certain I've created all the items I'm going to create, I can plug in the master list and go through the entire game and fix all the item references. This, of course, will take at least a week. The things I do for this project...
But in the meantime, you guys can help me brainstorm ideas for items, weapons, skills, and the like! That way, I can add more things to the master list now and save myself the trouble later on. If you have any ideas you want to give me, I'd love to hear them! Just so you know, there are twelve elements I use in my game: Fire, Water, Thunder, Earth, Growth (like plants and stuff), Ice, Light, Shadow, Wind, Poison, Gravity (also mass/space), and Time. Physically speaking, there are five attributes: Cut, Stab, Smash, Energy (raw magic power, has no element) and Limit (these skills have high costs and are useful mainly on bosses). It's usually best for skills and weapons to keep to one, MAYBE two attributes. If a Fire/Cut skill hits an enemy who absorbs Fire but is weak to Cut, for instance, the skill will do extra damage. The program goes with the attribute that would do the most damage, instead of averaging out like it probably should. So keeping things to one attribute makes everything a lot simpler. I also have tons of status effects, pretty much everything you'd see in your average RPG. I'm not opposed to adding some if you have any ideas for those, too.
Leave a comment if you have any ideas or questions! :)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
No writing, but I have some drawings from class...
Perspective exercises, not really in order. These are up in my deviantArt gallery, too. I'd offer to bring the originals, buuuut the paper is 18x24 inches XD
Torn (Scene continued from what I brought two weeks ago)
“How is she?” Johnathan asked Seton as he sat on the couch cleaning one of his daggers. Seton wearily walked into the living room from the hall and sat on the couch rigidly.
“Recovering, I got to her just in time; Jackson nearly tore her throat out,” Seton said flatly, bordering on angrily. They sat in silence for a while; the grandfather clock ticking away the minutes until chiming when four o’clock in the morning rolled around.
“You should get some sleep, Seton,” Johnathan said quietly.
“I’m not tired,” Seton growled back at him. No, he might not have been tired, but he was definitely worried. He wanted to be lying next to her, making sure she was safe, but then he had to remember that he hadn’t—couldn’t forgive her for killing Mitch.
Johnathan shook his head at Seton’s stubbornness. “She’s in there suffering. Lying there in the cold, dark shivering.”
“I can’t take away her pain! I’m not a healer—that is why we have you, Will, and Peter.”
“The healing she needs we can’t provide and you know that.”
“As soon as she is fully recovered I want her out of here, Johnathan. I won’t see her again.”
“Quit lying to yourself. The second you saw she was in trouble you went after her.”
“Then I won’t do it again. Have you forgiven Aiden for killing your brother? For killing your best friends?”
Johnathan snorted, “I’m not in love with him. And I know that he isn’t good; he takes pleasure from hurting people, she doesn’t. Go, be with her.” Seton shook his head in frustration.
“No.” He turned away to stalk out the door and into the night, but froze when something moved in the shadows. “How long have you been listening in, Alastor?” Alastor’s silver eyes flashed briefly, reflecting off a piece of moonlight that had flittered into the room.
“Long enough,” he replied softly. Seton hissed at him lowly. “Oh, don’t even start with that, Seton. You still don’t want any of us going near her; you’re jealous that she could pick one of us over you. And I wouldn’t blame her either with the way you’ve treated her!”
Seton had Alastor by the collar in an instant and he slammed him back against the wall, his hold growing tighter as the seconds passed. But Alastor just stared at him, not fighting back, not trying to speak. Seton released him with a snarl.
“If you didn’t want to see her why didn’t you just tell her that we were going to take care of Jackson? You normally at least coordinate to avoid her,” Alastor said in disgust. Seton momentarily glanced away—guilt in his eyes for a mere second. But it was enough to have the blood in Alastor’s veins run cold. “You wanted her to be there—she—you…you used her as bait.” Seton’s glare became deadly and he took a step toward him once again, this time intending to harm.
“Seton,” Johnathan’s voice cut through the air like ice, “Look at me and tell me it isn’t true.” Seton turned to him, unable to hide the truth. Johnathan was on his feet a second later striding toward him. “How dare you use her like that. After all she’s done for you; after all she keeps doing for you—how could you throw her into that? She nearly died!”
“But she didn’t,” Seton said flatly. Johnathan shook his head in outrage—Seton never risked their lives to such an extreme and even when he did he’d let them know exactly what they were getting themselves into.
“You need to leave. Now,” Johnathan whispered menacingly. His fists clenched at his sides, a few blue sparks of electricity playing around his fingers.
Seton’s eyebrows rose in surprise; Johnathan had only threaten him once before and it had ended with Johnathan unconscious on the ground and it hadn’t been because of Seton. And for once he simply nodded, a lump forming in his throat in protest, but he kept it at bay. Without looking at either Johnathan or Alastor he strode to the front door, opened it silently, and left with the door closing softly in his wake.
Alastor and Johnathan watched the door long after Seton had left, expecting him to come striding back at any moment.
And then when he didn’t Alastor said, “I’m going to go check on her.” He made a move toward the stairs.
“No,” Johnathan said sharply. Alastor paused mid-step to turn and stare at him in wonder, a frown forming on his face. “It’s too early for you to be making passes at her. Not with Seton so close; not when she only knows and will only know that he saved her life.”
“Are you asking me to lie to her?” Alastor whispered in outrage.
“No, I’m telling you,” Johnathan looked toward the front door giving a slight nod to it, “He needs to get his petty little revenges out of his head before he can begin to realize that he has made a mistake. And she needs to believe that he cares for her, which we both know that he still does.”
“I don’t like this, Johnathan,” Alastor said through gritted teeth.
“Doesn’t matter. Just stay away from her.” With that said Johnathan quickly moved up the stairs and slipped into the room she was recovering in—it was the only way to guarantee that Alastor stayed out.
Alastor’s fangs unsheathed in anger and he snarled something unintelligible to the seemingly empty room before ascending the stairs and slamming into his own room.
***
Damian stepped out from the shadows after making sure they were out of sight. His hand clenched the glass of blood that he had retrieved from the kitchen not five minutes before. He understood what Johnathan was doing, but he also knew that whatever applied to Alastor applied to him as well. In fact it didn’t look like Johnathan was going to let any of them speak to her before she left; Johnathan would do exactly what Seton had demanded him to do. And Damian wasn’t even sure why.
He stared back down at his cup full of blood; no longer interested in consuming its contents his lip curled upward in disgust. He went to the kitchen and poured the down the sink and then ran cold water over it to wash away the rest of the blood. In his mind the water splashing against the sides of the sink began a kind of rhythm; one that he couldn’t stop or deny. He had to sing when beckoned or he would suffer.
But it was late and he couldn’t go singing inside while the others were asleep. And he especially didn’t want to disturb Amy, even if he wasn’t going to be able to see her any time soon. He automatically moved to the back door that led him to the outside, tracing the same path that he had gone over many times. He walked on the cold grass, noticing that he was bare foot, but didn’t stop to care. He stopped just as he reached the pond that looked dark, murky and foreboding in the moonlight. A plane suddenly flew overhead, screaming in his ears with his extra sensitive hearing. And then the song burst from his mouth involuntarily. It was one he recognized instantly—Billy Squire’s In the Dark. The music played for him projecting against the water, causing it to ripple. He couldn’t help, but start dancing—the moon as his audience, as he didn’t believe that anyone else was listening to him and hadn’t for a long time
“Recovering, I got to her just in time; Jackson nearly tore her throat out,” Seton said flatly, bordering on angrily. They sat in silence for a while; the grandfather clock ticking away the minutes until chiming when four o’clock in the morning rolled around.
“You should get some sleep, Seton,” Johnathan said quietly.
“I’m not tired,” Seton growled back at him. No, he might not have been tired, but he was definitely worried. He wanted to be lying next to her, making sure she was safe, but then he had to remember that he hadn’t—couldn’t forgive her for killing Mitch.
Johnathan shook his head at Seton’s stubbornness. “She’s in there suffering. Lying there in the cold, dark shivering.”
“I can’t take away her pain! I’m not a healer—that is why we have you, Will, and Peter.”
“The healing she needs we can’t provide and you know that.”
“As soon as she is fully recovered I want her out of here, Johnathan. I won’t see her again.”
“Quit lying to yourself. The second you saw she was in trouble you went after her.”
“Then I won’t do it again. Have you forgiven Aiden for killing your brother? For killing your best friends?”
Johnathan snorted, “I’m not in love with him. And I know that he isn’t good; he takes pleasure from hurting people, she doesn’t. Go, be with her.” Seton shook his head in frustration.
“No.” He turned away to stalk out the door and into the night, but froze when something moved in the shadows. “How long have you been listening in, Alastor?” Alastor’s silver eyes flashed briefly, reflecting off a piece of moonlight that had flittered into the room.
“Long enough,” he replied softly. Seton hissed at him lowly. “Oh, don’t even start with that, Seton. You still don’t want any of us going near her; you’re jealous that she could pick one of us over you. And I wouldn’t blame her either with the way you’ve treated her!”
Seton had Alastor by the collar in an instant and he slammed him back against the wall, his hold growing tighter as the seconds passed. But Alastor just stared at him, not fighting back, not trying to speak. Seton released him with a snarl.
“If you didn’t want to see her why didn’t you just tell her that we were going to take care of Jackson? You normally at least coordinate to avoid her,” Alastor said in disgust. Seton momentarily glanced away—guilt in his eyes for a mere second. But it was enough to have the blood in Alastor’s veins run cold. “You wanted her to be there—she—you…you used her as bait.” Seton’s glare became deadly and he took a step toward him once again, this time intending to harm.
“Seton,” Johnathan’s voice cut through the air like ice, “Look at me and tell me it isn’t true.” Seton turned to him, unable to hide the truth. Johnathan was on his feet a second later striding toward him. “How dare you use her like that. After all she’s done for you; after all she keeps doing for you—how could you throw her into that? She nearly died!”
“But she didn’t,” Seton said flatly. Johnathan shook his head in outrage—Seton never risked their lives to such an extreme and even when he did he’d let them know exactly what they were getting themselves into.
“You need to leave. Now,” Johnathan whispered menacingly. His fists clenched at his sides, a few blue sparks of electricity playing around his fingers.
Seton’s eyebrows rose in surprise; Johnathan had only threaten him once before and it had ended with Johnathan unconscious on the ground and it hadn’t been because of Seton. And for once he simply nodded, a lump forming in his throat in protest, but he kept it at bay. Without looking at either Johnathan or Alastor he strode to the front door, opened it silently, and left with the door closing softly in his wake.
Alastor and Johnathan watched the door long after Seton had left, expecting him to come striding back at any moment.
And then when he didn’t Alastor said, “I’m going to go check on her.” He made a move toward the stairs.
“No,” Johnathan said sharply. Alastor paused mid-step to turn and stare at him in wonder, a frown forming on his face. “It’s too early for you to be making passes at her. Not with Seton so close; not when she only knows and will only know that he saved her life.”
“Are you asking me to lie to her?” Alastor whispered in outrage.
“No, I’m telling you,” Johnathan looked toward the front door giving a slight nod to it, “He needs to get his petty little revenges out of his head before he can begin to realize that he has made a mistake. And she needs to believe that he cares for her, which we both know that he still does.”
“I don’t like this, Johnathan,” Alastor said through gritted teeth.
“Doesn’t matter. Just stay away from her.” With that said Johnathan quickly moved up the stairs and slipped into the room she was recovering in—it was the only way to guarantee that Alastor stayed out.
Alastor’s fangs unsheathed in anger and he snarled something unintelligible to the seemingly empty room before ascending the stairs and slamming into his own room.
***
Damian stepped out from the shadows after making sure they were out of sight. His hand clenched the glass of blood that he had retrieved from the kitchen not five minutes before. He understood what Johnathan was doing, but he also knew that whatever applied to Alastor applied to him as well. In fact it didn’t look like Johnathan was going to let any of them speak to her before she left; Johnathan would do exactly what Seton had demanded him to do. And Damian wasn’t even sure why.
He stared back down at his cup full of blood; no longer interested in consuming its contents his lip curled upward in disgust. He went to the kitchen and poured the down the sink and then ran cold water over it to wash away the rest of the blood. In his mind the water splashing against the sides of the sink began a kind of rhythm; one that he couldn’t stop or deny. He had to sing when beckoned or he would suffer.
But it was late and he couldn’t go singing inside while the others were asleep. And he especially didn’t want to disturb Amy, even if he wasn’t going to be able to see her any time soon. He automatically moved to the back door that led him to the outside, tracing the same path that he had gone over many times. He walked on the cold grass, noticing that he was bare foot, but didn’t stop to care. He stopped just as he reached the pond that looked dark, murky and foreboding in the moonlight. A plane suddenly flew overhead, screaming in his ears with his extra sensitive hearing. And then the song burst from his mouth involuntarily. It was one he recognized instantly—Billy Squire’s In the Dark. The music played for him projecting against the water, causing it to ripple. He couldn’t help, but start dancing—the moon as his audience, as he didn’t believe that anyone else was listening to him and hadn’t for a long time
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Legend of Pokti - Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Going Home
“I hope that now, since Brukadorfuish has been banished, we can all live here together in peace for many, many, years,” Alden Kareem announced to the crowd.
A loud cry of joy rang out. Many of the people in the crowd were goblins. They were filled with happiness that now they wouldn’t have to work for the Dark Queen ever again. One of the goblins was Bruka’s little servant girl. She was shouting and cheering just as loud as she could.
News of the victory spread through Pokti quickly. There was a big celebration that night, and just about everyone in Pokti came. There was singing, dancing, eating, and talking. Most of the women brought some type of cake, ice cream, cookies, salad, fruits, vegetables, fish, or Jell-O. Other foods were brought too.
After the party and all the celebrations were finally over, everyone camped out in Unicorn Valley.
* * *
In the morning, when Kyle and Kristy woke up, almost everybody else was awake.
The thought of going home returned to Kyle’s mind. He shared his thoughts with Kristy, and they decided that they should ask Alden Kareem about it after they ate.
They had a wonderful breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Potts and then began their search for the king. They finally found him with Celeste standing next to his shining, shimmering, pool of water.
Kyle cleared his throat nervously. Alden Kareem lifted his head and turned his eyes towards Kyle. “Um,” Kyle started, “we were wondering how we’re supposed to get home.”
“Ah,” Alden Kareem said with a chuckle, “that will be easy.”
“It will?” Kristy asked, suddenly relieved.
“Yes, it will. All I need to do is make a bubble like the one I sent your aunt through, and you just hop through.”
“Okay!” Kyle said, happy that they could go home whenever they were ready.
“When do you want to leave?” Alden Kareem asked.
“After we say goodbye to everyone,” Kristy said, suddenly feeling kind of sad.
* * *
Later that day, just after lunch, Kyle and Kristy stood next to Alden Kareem, ready to go. They had said goodbye to all their friends, and all the new people they had met. Everyone gathered around to say a final goodbye.
Alden Kareem created a big, blue bubble about three feet away from where he was standing.
“Why is it blue instead of pink?” Kyle wondered.
“Because I’m sending you through a different portal than I sent your aunt through.”
“Where are you sending us?” Kristy wanted to know.
“To your aunt’s house.”
“Then, where did you send her?” Kristy said, confused.
“I sent her to the house of the Dark King, Blandorbush.”
“Why didn’t you send her to her own house?” Kyle asked.
“So I could seal the one in his house too. That way, she cannot return to Pokti through that portal, and if the Dark King went to Earth to talk to Brukadorfuish, he wouldn’t be able to come back to Pokti to do whatever she wanted him to do.”
“Are you going to seal our portal too?” Kyle asked, a little concerned.
“Yes, I am. But don’t worry, you can come back any time you’re at your aunt’s house.”
“We can?” Kristy said excitedly, “How?”
“You still have that key, don’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s right here in my pocket,” Kristy said as she pulled it out and showed it to him.
“Well, it will continue to unlock that door at your aunt’s house until it’s gone.”
“Really?” Kristy said, with a huge smile on her face.
“Yes, really. Now, are you ready to go?”
“We sure are, especially now that we know we can come back whenever we want.”
“Well, go on, hop through the bubble,” Alden Kareem said, nudging the twins towards the big, shiny bubble.
“Wait!” Kristy burst out.
“What is it, my child?” Alden Kareem asked in a fatherly tone.
“Where’s Spotty?”
“Right here,” a voice called from the crowd. Fiertia emerged from the middle of the crowd of people. There, in her arms, was Spotty.
“Oh, thank you,” Kristy said, as a huge smile appeared on her forlorn face. “I thought we’d lost him.”
“Mother says that when the rest of my family came for the party, he desperately wanted to come, so they brought him along. He’s been running around all morning, and I just remembered about him a couple minutes ago. Here he is,” Fiertia said as Kristy took Spotty from her arms.
“On second thought,” Kristy began hesitantly, “it might be better if you keep him. He loves it here. Besides, if we took him back, he'd be with my Aunt Bruka again. Will you take care of him for me?”
“Of course I will.”
Kristy gave Spotty a squeeze and then handed him back to Fiertia. She looked back at Kyle who gave her a sad smile telling her that she was doing the right thing. She turned back and gave Fiertia a hug. “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“I’m going to miss you too. Come back soon for another visit,” Fiertia whispered back.
“I will,” she whispered, “I will.”
When the two finally stopped embracing, Kristy said meekly, “I’m ready now.” She wiped her eyes and held Kyle’s hand.
“Goodbye!” they said together as they stepped through the bubble, and then they were gone.
“I’m going to miss those two,” several people muttered.
* * *
Kyle and Kristy were back at Aunt Bruka’s house in the room full of books.
Kyle ran out of the room, followed shortly by Kristy. They ran to their Aunt Bruka’s room. The door was slightly ajar, so they went in.
“What do you want?” Aunt Bruka asked coldly.
“I was wondering when our parents are coming back,” Kyle asked.
“In three days.”
“Thanks,” he said, turning to walk out of the room.
Kristy followed him up the stairs to the room where he was staying.
“Do you know what this means?” Kyle asked excitedly as soon as they reached the room, and the door was shut.
“What what means?”
“It means that time passes the same there as it does here.”
“So,” Kristy said, waiting for more of an explanation.
“So we can come to Aunt Bruka’s house for a week and then go to Pokti for a week, and only a week will have passed. Also, we could go to Pokti next year and only one year will have passed. The same people will still be there. Hundreds of years can’t pass by in Pokti unless hundreds of years pass by here.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Kristy said with false enthusiasm, still not really understanding Kyle’s point.
* * *
At the end of the week when their parents came to get them, and they were driving home in the car, Kristy asked, “Can we stay at Aunt Bruka’s for another week next month?”
“What for?” their mom said grinning, “I thought you didn’t like going to Aunt Bruka’s house.”
“We didn’t,” Kyle answered truthfully.
“Then why the sudden change of heart?” When nobody answered, she continued, “Or did you just find out it’s not so bad after all?”
Kyle and Kristy exchanged glances and smiled.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Exquisite Corpse #1
“Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor.”– Harry Potter
-1-
• Tom jumped back as it reared its slimy head.
• “It’s an alien from Mars!” he shouted, grasping the handle of his authentic Babe Ruth baseball bat tightly.
• He had gotten the bat from his grandfather’s collection.
• And without hesitation he proceeded to attack the strange thing on his floor.
• He threw a punch, falling when he hit only air.
• In seconds the fight had shifted from his favor.
• One uppercut to the chin and he was on Stacy Beedram’s doorstep, necking her like there was no tomorrow.
• Fortunately, tomorrow came, and Fred did not want to leave.
• His friends had a different plan, however.
• But the day was ending, so they decided to go home and eat the brownies grandma made.
-2-
• The girl shrieked as she discovered that her ribbon was gone.
• Frantically, she peered around, searching for her fallen treasure.
• She quickly got down onto all fours, crawling around on the ground.
• …Only to find that the magical beans had disappeared.
• “Where’s my weed-whacker?!?” shouted Jack to a trembling Bessy.
• “I hid it in the pantry. No one would ever dare to look in there,” said Bessy.
• “Oh, really?!” With a swoosh of his long black cape, Mr. Evil swung open the pantry door, revealing the fluid and silvery substance!
• So he did have the substance all along!
• Angrily, he threw himself at the liar and attempted to get the substance.
• Knocking him down, he grabbed the substance and held it victoriously over his head.
-3-
• The home-ec students stared at the puddle in confusion, then at the girl holding a tipped over pot.
• The puddle began to bubble as the students stared in disbelief at the silvery liquid.
• “Is it dead?” queried a small voice at the back of the crowd.
• “No, merely unconscious,” exclaimed the leader of the crowd.
• The leader, whose name was Andrew, leapt into his shiny red convertible and sped away from the scene, leaving only a cloud of dust in his wake.
• The boy stared in awe as he was left in Andrew’s dust.
• All at once he began to cry, wishing that Andrew would find it in his heart to come crawling back, so that he could kill him for leaving.
• Maybe he could stab him in the heart, to make him physically feel the emotional pain he had.
• The thought sent shivers down their spines.
• And then they all died of AIDS.
-4-
• Johnny gasped and stared at it in horror.
• “What is that grotesque thing?” he asked, poking it.
• His friend curled his lip as he went to his knees to get a better look at it.
• He prodded it with one finger, quickly drawing back when the thing shifted.
• The strange thing then began to speak, saying…
• “I say, I could do with a spot of tea right now—Earl Greg, if you don’t mind.”
• “But we’re not in England, my dear friend,” said the flustered Frenchman.
• Johnny slapped his forehead. “So that’s why I couldn’t order fish and chips at that diner!”
• He felt the sting on his head from slapping himself.
• In the end, he could only hit himself for his own stupidity.
-5-
• The snake was eerily grey and not like other types of snakes.
• This one had glowing red eyes where there should have been the cold, dark black eyes of a heartless monster.
• It was those ruby eyes that sucked him in, as if there were no other creatures in the world but the two of them together.
• But at the same time, looking closer at the eyes offset him; the more he stared the more frightened he became.
• When he tried to back away, his legs felt heavy and wouldn’t move.
• Giant monkeys had surrounded him, pulling down his legs.
• “Not my pants!” he cried, “I can’t be naked—Nooooo…” he sobbed futilely as his pants were dragged from him.
• He had a phobia for his pants being taken off—there has been no released name, though.
• But eventually he forgot about the entire incident and his phobia faded into the dark abyss of adulthood.
-6-
• Another followed after, and then one more after that.
• Shocked silence spread through the lab.
• “How dare you steal my cookie, you thief!” the scientist yelled.
• “I daresay I’d rather be eaten by him,” piped the chocolate chip cookie, quite unexpectedly.
• “But why would you want to be eaten by him?” said the other not-so-chocolaty cookie.
• “Because his teeth are so clean!” the strawberry replied, “I mean, who wouldn’t want to get eaten by that guy?”
• “Well, I don’t want to be eaten,” said the banana, “because I want to live a long and yellow life.”
• A human caught sight of the banana and, with a shrug of her shoulders, ate it.
• She forgot, however, that she was allergic to bananas.
• …Leaving everyone with a dissatisfied look about them.
-7-
• …as the wind blew through the Batcave.
• “Holy tap-dancing tarantulas, Batman!” exclaimed Robin, “it’s the Venomous Villa Vaga of Merengué sent to kill us by the perilous Penguin!”
• “But he escaped the Batcave already? How could that be?” said Batman.
• “He stole our Bat-Jail-cell-destroyer and used it to escape!” cried Robin, “Holy escaping monkeys, Batman!”
• “That’s all right, Robin,” replied Batman, “we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
• And without further ado, Batman flung himself off the building.
• He grabbed onto the edges of his cape, spreading his arms to make makeshift wings.
• As he spread his cape, he was thwarted by Batman as a Batarang sliced through his wings.
• “How do you like them apples?” jeered Batman as the Batarang zoomed silently back into his hand.
• “They’re quite juicy, but I would have rather enjoyed a soft peach.”
-1-
• Tom jumped back as it reared its slimy head.
• “It’s an alien from Mars!” he shouted, grasping the handle of his authentic Babe Ruth baseball bat tightly.
• He had gotten the bat from his grandfather’s collection.
• And without hesitation he proceeded to attack the strange thing on his floor.
• He threw a punch, falling when he hit only air.
• In seconds the fight had shifted from his favor.
• One uppercut to the chin and he was on Stacy Beedram’s doorstep, necking her like there was no tomorrow.
• Fortunately, tomorrow came, and Fred did not want to leave.
• His friends had a different plan, however.
• But the day was ending, so they decided to go home and eat the brownies grandma made.
-2-
• The girl shrieked as she discovered that her ribbon was gone.
• Frantically, she peered around, searching for her fallen treasure.
• She quickly got down onto all fours, crawling around on the ground.
• …Only to find that the magical beans had disappeared.
• “Where’s my weed-whacker?!?” shouted Jack to a trembling Bessy.
• “I hid it in the pantry. No one would ever dare to look in there,” said Bessy.
• “Oh, really?!” With a swoosh of his long black cape, Mr. Evil swung open the pantry door, revealing the fluid and silvery substance!
• So he did have the substance all along!
• Angrily, he threw himself at the liar and attempted to get the substance.
• Knocking him down, he grabbed the substance and held it victoriously over his head.
-3-
• The home-ec students stared at the puddle in confusion, then at the girl holding a tipped over pot.
• The puddle began to bubble as the students stared in disbelief at the silvery liquid.
• “Is it dead?” queried a small voice at the back of the crowd.
• “No, merely unconscious,” exclaimed the leader of the crowd.
• The leader, whose name was Andrew, leapt into his shiny red convertible and sped away from the scene, leaving only a cloud of dust in his wake.
• The boy stared in awe as he was left in Andrew’s dust.
• All at once he began to cry, wishing that Andrew would find it in his heart to come crawling back, so that he could kill him for leaving.
• Maybe he could stab him in the heart, to make him physically feel the emotional pain he had.
• The thought sent shivers down their spines.
• And then they all died of AIDS.
-4-
• Johnny gasped and stared at it in horror.
• “What is that grotesque thing?” he asked, poking it.
• His friend curled his lip as he went to his knees to get a better look at it.
• He prodded it with one finger, quickly drawing back when the thing shifted.
• The strange thing then began to speak, saying…
• “I say, I could do with a spot of tea right now—Earl Greg, if you don’t mind.”
• “But we’re not in England, my dear friend,” said the flustered Frenchman.
• Johnny slapped his forehead. “So that’s why I couldn’t order fish and chips at that diner!”
• He felt the sting on his head from slapping himself.
• In the end, he could only hit himself for his own stupidity.
-5-
• The snake was eerily grey and not like other types of snakes.
• This one had glowing red eyes where there should have been the cold, dark black eyes of a heartless monster.
• It was those ruby eyes that sucked him in, as if there were no other creatures in the world but the two of them together.
• But at the same time, looking closer at the eyes offset him; the more he stared the more frightened he became.
• When he tried to back away, his legs felt heavy and wouldn’t move.
• Giant monkeys had surrounded him, pulling down his legs.
• “Not my pants!” he cried, “I can’t be naked—Nooooo…” he sobbed futilely as his pants were dragged from him.
• He had a phobia for his pants being taken off—there has been no released name, though.
• But eventually he forgot about the entire incident and his phobia faded into the dark abyss of adulthood.
-6-
• Another followed after, and then one more after that.
• Shocked silence spread through the lab.
• “How dare you steal my cookie, you thief!” the scientist yelled.
• “I daresay I’d rather be eaten by him,” piped the chocolate chip cookie, quite unexpectedly.
• “But why would you want to be eaten by him?” said the other not-so-chocolaty cookie.
• “Because his teeth are so clean!” the strawberry replied, “I mean, who wouldn’t want to get eaten by that guy?”
• “Well, I don’t want to be eaten,” said the banana, “because I want to live a long and yellow life.”
• A human caught sight of the banana and, with a shrug of her shoulders, ate it.
• She forgot, however, that she was allergic to bananas.
• …Leaving everyone with a dissatisfied look about them.
-7-
• …as the wind blew through the Batcave.
• “Holy tap-dancing tarantulas, Batman!” exclaimed Robin, “it’s the Venomous Villa Vaga of Merengué sent to kill us by the perilous Penguin!”
• “But he escaped the Batcave already? How could that be?” said Batman.
• “He stole our Bat-Jail-cell-destroyer and used it to escape!” cried Robin, “Holy escaping monkeys, Batman!”
• “That’s all right, Robin,” replied Batman, “we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
• And without further ado, Batman flung himself off the building.
• He grabbed onto the edges of his cape, spreading his arms to make makeshift wings.
• As he spread his cape, he was thwarted by Batman as a Batarang sliced through his wings.
• “How do you like them apples?” jeered Batman as the Batarang zoomed silently back into his hand.
• “They’re quite juicy, but I would have rather enjoyed a soft peach.”
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Leaf Free Write by Enoch (James) Wallis
Chapter one
In the sharp moonlight, the smell of campfire smoke permeates the air, and the sound of crickets mingles with laughter. An updraft from a dancing fire catches a changing leaf and gently lifts it from its summer home, sending it twisting and spiraling into the night sky. Up it floats, dancing in the stars as it frolics on its last happy ride through the autumn air. As it turns, its orange and gold streaked skin catches light from the harvest moon and, for a moment, it gleams with such beauty that the stars shimmered with delighted tears, thinking the sun had come early. Then the little blaze turns again and starts to the earth to give itself back to its mother tree, feeding it to make it strong. Another breeze catches it and it darts to one side and, just before continuing on its peaceful decent, a hand reaches out into the night , catching it, drawing it in and twirling it between his fingers.
David spoke, softly, gently, still twirling the blazing leaf so that She could see. “No mater where I am. No matter where you are, we’ll both see the same sun, setting in the west. And then I’ll think of you, and all the sunsets we’ve shared up on this water tower together.” And slowly, gently, he placed the leaf in Her hair. Dark brown, until it catches the light, sending out glints of auburn. As if to show her fire, unnoticed until you take the time to see.
She smiled. “How long did it take you to come up with that?” she teased. “Or have you been reading that little book my dad gave you?” snuggling into his arms and resting her cheek on his chest she closed her eyes and said. “You don’t have to come up with fancy words, I’ll love you anyway. Even if my dad is the most eloquent man in the country, and thinks if you don’t love words then you’re uneducated.”
Chuckling, David looked down to smell her hair “I actually found out it’s some pretty cool stuff. You’ll have to thank your dad for lending me that book, It showed me ‘a New World of depth and passion, unmatched in beauty.’ ‘Anonymous.’”
Laughing, She raised her head, placing her chin where her cheek had rested. “So you’re full of words now too, huh?” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. “I can get used to that”
They stood holding each- other like that for a long time before David broke the silence.
“What made your dad decide to leave for Europe so suddenly? You’ve been here in Denver for as long as I can remember.”
She made a face as she looked up to answer, “He says that ‘the American education system has lost what effectiveness and ingenuity it had” and so “to get a proper education we will venture to Europe.’” She said it snidely, deepening her voice in a surprisingly accurate imitation of her father.
“Well I wish he’d change his mind.” David said softly. They both knew he wouldn’t though. And so they stood silently in each others arms, loosing themselves in the sad thoughts of separation, and absorbed all they could of each other while they could, listening with sad contentment to the nighttime sounds.
Crickets sang to them, the crunch of tires passed on the road, another group of post-graduate revelers no doubt. In the distance, their friends laughed, and they heard the sound of Mike tuning up his guitar. His little practice amp carrying the sound to their ears, and Tom’s voice as he loudly requested a song
“Let’s go back to the group” David said “they’re probably wondering what happened to us,”
so they started down the ladder to the ground, David below in case She fell. His feet touched the ground, and as he helped Her down the last few rungs, he heard a swoosh, and something hard hit him in the back of the head with the muffled thunk of wood. Dazed, he fell to the ground. Stars danceing at the edge of his vision his eyes tingling in their sockets. He heard scuffling and another thud and looked up to see the world tilting crazily and three men, a limp form over one of their shoulders, running to the nearby road where a black SUV idled with the doors open.
“No”, he said softly, desperately, “No! ELISABETH!” he screamed, stumbling to his feet and lurching after them, the world still spinning crazily. One of the men spun and cursed, said something to the others, who started running, before turning back. With a snarl and a look of cruel satisfaction he swung the bat again, and pain blossomed from David’s nose as the hard wood made contact. The force of the blow knocked him backwards so that he landed with a thud on his back, the air forced out of him.
With a grunt of pleasure, the man turned again and ran to the car, his door thudding shut behind him. Then, with a squeal of tires, the men with Elisabeth took off.
David lay stunned for half a second before what was happening cleared his brain, and he scrambled to his feet. Running after the car, his desperation lending him speed. “NO!” he screamed “ELISABETH!” and the car picked up speed. Turning, he started a stumbling run toward his own truck, and, with his blood filling with adrenaline the world slowly stopped it’s crazy wobble.
David burst through the trees into the clearing full of laughter, the guitar having drown out his screams, and yelled “THEY TOOK ELISABETH!” while he charged forward, leaping over the fire and wrenching open the door of his truck.
“What!?” Mike said, standing. “What do you mean ‘they?’“
“THEY TOOK HER!” he yelled, and slamming his door he took off after the black SUV that held his Elisabeth, leaving the others stund in the clearing.
His headlights lit the road before him like blazing eyes, as he sped forward. Catching a glimpse of the suvs red tail lights as they rounded the bend just ahead. Growling he sped up. Trees flashing by in a dark blur, he rounded the bend and saw his querry, Still ahead, but much closer, and flattened his foot to the floor. His old red truck leaping forward. The reflective license plate of the car ahead glinted at him mockingly, as its driver floored the gas as well, 124G35. Then the chase began in earnest. David knew the road, but this guy was obviously more experienced at high speed driving. They zoomed down the dirt road, each one skidding around the wild turns and looking hopefully at the other. Those in the SUV, hoping for a crash, and David praying, desperate not to see one. David’s knowledge of the road was proving to be stronger than the other’s skill, and slowly the distance between them was closing.
What do I do when I catch them? he asked himself, don’t think, just DRIVE! Was the answer. The window of the dark car rolled down and a gun poked out. David had just enough time to register the weapon before a bullet shattered his windshield, and buried itself in the seat right by his head. “oh shit!” he said to himself and almost missed the next turn. Ahead of him another window rolled down on the suv and a second man poked his head out, aiming a rifle at the leading right tire of David’s truck. just as the man pulled the trigger, the suv hit a cattle guard, sending the shot into a tree instead of davids tire. The first man fired again, and David felt a jerk in his right shoulder. Yeling in pain and frustration he gritt his teeth, taking a hissing breath. His hunting rifle flicked into his mind where it lay behind the passenger seat but he quickly dismissed the idea. They have Elisabeth with them. what if I hit her?
So the chase continued, and ahead the license plate glinted tauntingly at him. 124G35
They can’t keep shooting. David thought. Soon they’ll be too close to town. Apparently the kidnappers had realized the same thing, because the two men retreated with their guns back into the car. David urged his truck to go faster. If I can’t catch them before they get into town, this guy will be able to loose me. In front of him, the suv took another turn and sped down the road by the free way. Suddenly turning off the road it headed straight for the barrier. David blinked in surprise, and swerved to follow. But too late, the suv rattled over the rough terane and got on to the freeway just to the side of the barrier. But David, a little farther over hit the barrier with the side of his truck and lost control. Spinning wildly across the two lane high way the front fender of the old truck nicked a sign post and David and his truck tumbled into the irrigation ditch on the opposite side. Scrambling back over to the drivers side, blood trickling from a gash in his forehead, he desperately pounded on the gas. A wet churning came from the rear wheels and the old truck sank deeper into the mud, like an old man settling all the way into a comfortable arm chair. “DAMN IT!” he yelled, and revved the engine rocking back and forth in his seat trying to add his own energy to getting the car up and on the road. It was no use. The old truck was stuck. “no” he said “no no no no!” and he yanked door handle and burst out of the cab, scrambling up the muddy slope to the highway, the red tail lights of the black suv gleamed back at him evily and, tears streaming in his vision, he charged down the road.
NO! he thought NO THEY CAN’T HAVE HER!! And he ran harder. Slowly, painfully, the tauntingly evil red eyes ahead of him faided crying out he put on an extra burst of speed. The horrof of loosing Elisabeth giving him strength he never knew he had. But his legs couldn;t keep the pace he was demanding of himself and he stumbled, his feet catching on the asfault and sendinghim to the ground. “no” he said again”NO!” he screamed, the word melting to an anguished roar. She was gone the thought seemed to sap his strength, and he sank to the black road, his yell echoing through the trees at the side of the road. She was gone, and he had failed her. They had stolen her. As he huddled on the road, anger, fear, and terrible loss forcing him to the ground, one thought ran through his head. It was his fault. She was gone, and he couldn’t stop them. it was his fault.
It was the last distinct thought he had for a long time.
CHAPTER 2
Elisabeth drifted awake to a curse and the boom of a gun, and heard a rough, unfamiliar voice say “Damn country road! I missed!” then another voice came in, this one sounded upset. “ they wont be happy. I told you we should have waited longer!” BANG! And she thought she heard David cry out in savage pain. “man, that kid’s tough” said a third voice.
“Yeah?” said Rough, addressing Upset, “Well if Taylor had knocked the kid out like he was ‘sposed to, then it wouldn’t have made much of a difference!” the car jostled and she faded back out as a smooth deep voice joined the conversation…
she woke again, sometime later, when she rolled across the empty floor of the car and hit some ones leg, not knowing if she’d been out seconds or hours. Who ever’s leg it was kicked her back to the middle and then said, “Ha! That got ‘im! He went right in the ditch!” it was Rough. Elisabeth felt ice in her veins. no! David! Tears slid down her cheeks, and then upset spoke again. “Damn! He’s chasin us!” he said, amazement in his voice and Elisabeth’s heart beat again, bringing a fresh set of tears. “Damn but ain’t He Fast!” said rough, obviously impressed, and Elisabeth couldn’t help the pride that welled up, adding to the salty parade rolling down her cheeks. the car stopped swerving and she blacked out again, tears still streeming down her face.
The next time she awoke she was in the dark, tied to a chair so tight her hands and feet were numb and tingly from lack of circulation, the bag that had been over her face in the car was gone, but it didn’t make any difference. She still could see nothing.
CHAPTER 3
Mike sat, stunned for a moment as David roared away, tail lights flickering between the trees. “this's gotta be a joke” he thought, but David really wasn't the prankster, that was his job! Elizebeth couldn't be kidnapped, that kinda thing didn't-
“Lets go!” Tom said jumping to his feet, and the spell over the stunned clearing was broken, everyone rushed to their cars, and Toms voice lanced out again, the harsh whip of reality cracking over head. “Someone call the sheriff!” with a flurry of car doors, and the sputtering of engins the frantic convoy was off, heading down the road after David.
Digging franticly in his pocket, Mike pulled out his phone and diled, getting only a buisy signal. What the crap man! He thought, this is an emergency! And he jammed the redile button as the first gunshot rang through the trees. “Oh crap!” he said and the operator picked up.
“Hello, 911 emergency”, she sounded stressed, “Hey Lady! My buddies girl's been kidnapped and now hes chasin after them, and i just heard a gun shot!” BANG, BANG! “THREE gun shots!””Please stay calm,” easy for her to say! “we've already heard from two of your other friends, we're sending out an amber allert now and all four cars are on their way.” snapping his phone shut, Mike fumbled with the radio and with the hiss of statick he caught the end of an annoying buzz tone and an electronic voice rang through the car, THIS IS AN AMBER ALLERT!!! ELIZABETH -------- HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED, SHE IS A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD, COCASION FEMAIL, FIVE TWO WITH DARK BROWN HAIR AND GREEN EYES, REPEAT, THIS IS AN AMBER ALERT!!!
Mike switched off his radio as the anoying buzz came back, signaling the end of the alert, and sped aroung a cornesr, hearin the shreik of tires ahead, and then a crash, his foot hovered between the gass and the break, uncertainly untill ahead, Toms car swerved off the road, to folow battered and bruised earth across the short gap to the highway. And as mike folowed, the trail, he spotted davids truck in the ditch, headlights blaizing into the night sky and steam pouring out from under the hood.
Tom was already leaping out of his car and running to the old red Ford. Mike yanked open his door, strughlingm with his seatbelt and cursing when it caught around his neck. By the time he'd extracted himself Rachel and .Shantell were getting out of their car and Jacen was pulling up behind them.
It had been Mike who saw him first. Realizing that it was David they were looking for, the fastest guy on the football team and state champion in track long distance, he had started down the road in the direction of the skid marks, continuing on farther than they had the first few times. He drove slowly for almost an hour, and was about to turn back, thinking he’d gone far enough, when he saw David through his windshield. If he hadn’t have been going so slow, he would have run over him. David had been slumped over, his arms hanging by his sides as if they were stuffed and his eyes glazed, staring down the road. There was a deep gash on his forehead, blood soaked his right arm from a bullet hole in his shoulder, he had numerous other cuts and bruises from crashing into the ditch, and he was deep in shock.
Now Tom wasn’t a lover of the woods like David, nor was he into the medical field so he never saw a reason to learn how to deal with delusional people. But his mother had forced him to go to scouts for a year and he remembered a few things from the first aid lesson. So he ran back to his little car and reached into the back, pulling out the thick quilt he’d brought for Rachel, and draped it over David, gently laying him down on the road side. Then he’d called Mike, who was back with the main group, and soon his best friend was on his way to the hospital.
While the search for David was going, the sheriff, after hearing the story of why David was missing with his truck in a ditch, left the three other town police with the search party and drove slowly back to town. Over and over he worded what he was going to say to Michael and Susanna Taylor. When he finally got out of his car in front of their house he was fairly confident on how he would tell them that their daughter had been kidnapped. he climbed the porch steps, every creak of wood a sorrowful harold of the news he bore the good people inside the house. Crossing the final distance to the door he raised a hand, knocking three times. Or at least he meant to, for as his fist hit the door, instead of producing a solid rap, it swung open, and seeing the front room, the sheriff froze.
A broken table leg had stopped the door from swinging in all the way, and a mirror on the far wall was broken, reflecting the room in cracks and fragments. As he stepped into the house he noticed that the couch was over turned, the TV had fallen to the floor, and the coffee table was smashed, one of its legs the one at his feet holding the door.
“Mr. Taylor?!” he called, realizing his gun was in his hand, he didn’t remember drawing it. “Mrs. Taylor?!” but nobody answered, and nobody would.
David Bastian awoke slowly, fighting desperately to keep his heart closed, to keep the terrible pain from breaking through the blissful dam of sleep and washing him away. But the fight was doomed before it began, and he was swept away. A man standing in the riverbed with his hands stretched futilely before him. He lay on his bed, consumed by his raging emotions, and the swirling images of Elisabeth.
Slowly, David turned and sat up. His feet coming to rest on the soft rug in front of his bed and slumped there, his head in his hands, trying desperately to contain the swirling currents of rage, despair, and helplessness that were thrashing him to pieces. Crashing him against the rock of Elisabeth’s kidnapping that he caried with him. Finally, taking a deep breath, he reigned in the storm that circled tightly around him, and lifted his head.
For a long while David glared at the tan rug beneath his feet, imagining charging into the sheriffs office and demanding answers., and smiled grimly at a particularly fierce section where he threw aside the desk and held the frustratingly uncooperative deputy against the wall until he spoke. The in action was driving him mad! They hadn't gotten anywhere as far as he knew, and the only way he'd been able to help was by telling the sheriff the license number of the black suv. After that, whenever he'd approached an officer, they had calmly told him that the police were working hard to find Elisabeth and to go home and let them handle it.
Taking a deep breath, he held it for a moment thrying to calm himself, and then, running a hand through his hair he looked blankly at his dresser in anticipation of wearing clothes. As he leaned forward to open the top drawer containing shirts, a light blue paper, neatly folded with his name in red ink caught his eye. Great, he thought, another pity note that wants to be touching. He lifted his hand over the paper and let it fall, his fingers closing limply around the thin blue stationery, dragging it off the dresser top by the weight of his arm.
Carelessly, he unfolded it, and looked down at the message, reading the first line that was scrawled in a hurried hand. For a moment he didn’t comprehend what he read, snorting afterward in contempt of the expected cheesy frothel and strting to toss it asside when what was actually written sank in, and he stared again at the first words.
A steely determination came rushing through him, and he knew what he was going to do. His face hardened and his jaw clenched as he gazed at the red letters that spelled out the first sentence that had made sense since the water tower. He stood, the words blazing in his mind, and lighting his world like a beacon fire.
You can save her.
CHAPTER 4
Elisabeth stared blankly at the brick wall in front of her, the fear that had been her constant companion for who knows how long seemed muted now, she hardly noticed it anymore. A sound in the other room brought her mind back in focus, and hope stirred in her as she heard someone approach the door to the dark little room she was in.
please let it be the polece! She thought, or david... she had had amaizing dreams bouth awake, and asleep, where he had come bursting into the room and whisked her away. But when the door opened it was one of the kidappers, and the cold fear came blaizing back to the fore front of her mind. Fear of death, or worse, at the hands of thease men.
CHAPTER 5
“Ok David.”
In the sharp moonlight, the smell of campfire smoke permeates the air, and the sound of crickets mingles with laughter. An updraft from a dancing fire catches a changing leaf and gently lifts it from its summer home, sending it twisting and spiraling into the night sky. Up it floats, dancing in the stars as it frolics on its last happy ride through the autumn air. As it turns, its orange and gold streaked skin catches light from the harvest moon and, for a moment, it gleams with such beauty that the stars shimmered with delighted tears, thinking the sun had come early. Then the little blaze turns again and starts to the earth to give itself back to its mother tree, feeding it to make it strong. Another breeze catches it and it darts to one side and, just before continuing on its peaceful decent, a hand reaches out into the night , catching it, drawing it in and twirling it between his fingers.
David spoke, softly, gently, still twirling the blazing leaf so that She could see. “No mater where I am. No matter where you are, we’ll both see the same sun, setting in the west. And then I’ll think of you, and all the sunsets we’ve shared up on this water tower together.” And slowly, gently, he placed the leaf in Her hair. Dark brown, until it catches the light, sending out glints of auburn. As if to show her fire, unnoticed until you take the time to see.
She smiled. “How long did it take you to come up with that?” she teased. “Or have you been reading that little book my dad gave you?” snuggling into his arms and resting her cheek on his chest she closed her eyes and said. “You don’t have to come up with fancy words, I’ll love you anyway. Even if my dad is the most eloquent man in the country, and thinks if you don’t love words then you’re uneducated.”
Chuckling, David looked down to smell her hair “I actually found out it’s some pretty cool stuff. You’ll have to thank your dad for lending me that book, It showed me ‘a New World of depth and passion, unmatched in beauty.’ ‘Anonymous.’”
Laughing, She raised her head, placing her chin where her cheek had rested. “So you’re full of words now too, huh?” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. “I can get used to that”
They stood holding each- other like that for a long time before David broke the silence.
“What made your dad decide to leave for Europe so suddenly? You’ve been here in Denver for as long as I can remember.”
She made a face as she looked up to answer, “He says that ‘the American education system has lost what effectiveness and ingenuity it had” and so “to get a proper education we will venture to Europe.’” She said it snidely, deepening her voice in a surprisingly accurate imitation of her father.
“Well I wish he’d change his mind.” David said softly. They both knew he wouldn’t though. And so they stood silently in each others arms, loosing themselves in the sad thoughts of separation, and absorbed all they could of each other while they could, listening with sad contentment to the nighttime sounds.
Crickets sang to them, the crunch of tires passed on the road, another group of post-graduate revelers no doubt. In the distance, their friends laughed, and they heard the sound of Mike tuning up his guitar. His little practice amp carrying the sound to their ears, and Tom’s voice as he loudly requested a song
“Let’s go back to the group” David said “they’re probably wondering what happened to us,”
so they started down the ladder to the ground, David below in case She fell. His feet touched the ground, and as he helped Her down the last few rungs, he heard a swoosh, and something hard hit him in the back of the head with the muffled thunk of wood. Dazed, he fell to the ground. Stars danceing at the edge of his vision his eyes tingling in their sockets. He heard scuffling and another thud and looked up to see the world tilting crazily and three men, a limp form over one of their shoulders, running to the nearby road where a black SUV idled with the doors open.
“No”, he said softly, desperately, “No! ELISABETH!” he screamed, stumbling to his feet and lurching after them, the world still spinning crazily. One of the men spun and cursed, said something to the others, who started running, before turning back. With a snarl and a look of cruel satisfaction he swung the bat again, and pain blossomed from David’s nose as the hard wood made contact. The force of the blow knocked him backwards so that he landed with a thud on his back, the air forced out of him.
With a grunt of pleasure, the man turned again and ran to the car, his door thudding shut behind him. Then, with a squeal of tires, the men with Elisabeth took off.
David lay stunned for half a second before what was happening cleared his brain, and he scrambled to his feet. Running after the car, his desperation lending him speed. “NO!” he screamed “ELISABETH!” and the car picked up speed. Turning, he started a stumbling run toward his own truck, and, with his blood filling with adrenaline the world slowly stopped it’s crazy wobble.
David burst through the trees into the clearing full of laughter, the guitar having drown out his screams, and yelled “THEY TOOK ELISABETH!” while he charged forward, leaping over the fire and wrenching open the door of his truck.
“What!?” Mike said, standing. “What do you mean ‘they?’“
“THEY TOOK HER!” he yelled, and slamming his door he took off after the black SUV that held his Elisabeth, leaving the others stund in the clearing.
His headlights lit the road before him like blazing eyes, as he sped forward. Catching a glimpse of the suvs red tail lights as they rounded the bend just ahead. Growling he sped up. Trees flashing by in a dark blur, he rounded the bend and saw his querry, Still ahead, but much closer, and flattened his foot to the floor. His old red truck leaping forward. The reflective license plate of the car ahead glinted at him mockingly, as its driver floored the gas as well, 124G35. Then the chase began in earnest. David knew the road, but this guy was obviously more experienced at high speed driving. They zoomed down the dirt road, each one skidding around the wild turns and looking hopefully at the other. Those in the SUV, hoping for a crash, and David praying, desperate not to see one. David’s knowledge of the road was proving to be stronger than the other’s skill, and slowly the distance between them was closing.
What do I do when I catch them? he asked himself, don’t think, just DRIVE! Was the answer. The window of the dark car rolled down and a gun poked out. David had just enough time to register the weapon before a bullet shattered his windshield, and buried itself in the seat right by his head. “oh shit!” he said to himself and almost missed the next turn. Ahead of him another window rolled down on the suv and a second man poked his head out, aiming a rifle at the leading right tire of David’s truck. just as the man pulled the trigger, the suv hit a cattle guard, sending the shot into a tree instead of davids tire. The first man fired again, and David felt a jerk in his right shoulder. Yeling in pain and frustration he gritt his teeth, taking a hissing breath. His hunting rifle flicked into his mind where it lay behind the passenger seat but he quickly dismissed the idea. They have Elisabeth with them. what if I hit her?
So the chase continued, and ahead the license plate glinted tauntingly at him. 124G35
They can’t keep shooting. David thought. Soon they’ll be too close to town. Apparently the kidnappers had realized the same thing, because the two men retreated with their guns back into the car. David urged his truck to go faster. If I can’t catch them before they get into town, this guy will be able to loose me. In front of him, the suv took another turn and sped down the road by the free way. Suddenly turning off the road it headed straight for the barrier. David blinked in surprise, and swerved to follow. But too late, the suv rattled over the rough terane and got on to the freeway just to the side of the barrier. But David, a little farther over hit the barrier with the side of his truck and lost control. Spinning wildly across the two lane high way the front fender of the old truck nicked a sign post and David and his truck tumbled into the irrigation ditch on the opposite side. Scrambling back over to the drivers side, blood trickling from a gash in his forehead, he desperately pounded on the gas. A wet churning came from the rear wheels and the old truck sank deeper into the mud, like an old man settling all the way into a comfortable arm chair. “DAMN IT!” he yelled, and revved the engine rocking back and forth in his seat trying to add his own energy to getting the car up and on the road. It was no use. The old truck was stuck. “no” he said “no no no no!” and he yanked door handle and burst out of the cab, scrambling up the muddy slope to the highway, the red tail lights of the black suv gleamed back at him evily and, tears streaming in his vision, he charged down the road.
NO! he thought NO THEY CAN’T HAVE HER!! And he ran harder. Slowly, painfully, the tauntingly evil red eyes ahead of him faided crying out he put on an extra burst of speed. The horrof of loosing Elisabeth giving him strength he never knew he had. But his legs couldn;t keep the pace he was demanding of himself and he stumbled, his feet catching on the asfault and sendinghim to the ground. “no” he said again”NO!” he screamed, the word melting to an anguished roar. She was gone the thought seemed to sap his strength, and he sank to the black road, his yell echoing through the trees at the side of the road. She was gone, and he had failed her. They had stolen her. As he huddled on the road, anger, fear, and terrible loss forcing him to the ground, one thought ran through his head. It was his fault. She was gone, and he couldn’t stop them. it was his fault.
It was the last distinct thought he had for a long time.
CHAPTER 2
Elisabeth drifted awake to a curse and the boom of a gun, and heard a rough, unfamiliar voice say “Damn country road! I missed!” then another voice came in, this one sounded upset. “ they wont be happy. I told you we should have waited longer!” BANG! And she thought she heard David cry out in savage pain. “man, that kid’s tough” said a third voice.
“Yeah?” said Rough, addressing Upset, “Well if Taylor had knocked the kid out like he was ‘sposed to, then it wouldn’t have made much of a difference!” the car jostled and she faded back out as a smooth deep voice joined the conversation…
she woke again, sometime later, when she rolled across the empty floor of the car and hit some ones leg, not knowing if she’d been out seconds or hours. Who ever’s leg it was kicked her back to the middle and then said, “Ha! That got ‘im! He went right in the ditch!” it was Rough. Elisabeth felt ice in her veins. no! David! Tears slid down her cheeks, and then upset spoke again. “Damn! He’s chasin us!” he said, amazement in his voice and Elisabeth’s heart beat again, bringing a fresh set of tears. “Damn but ain’t He Fast!” said rough, obviously impressed, and Elisabeth couldn’t help the pride that welled up, adding to the salty parade rolling down her cheeks. the car stopped swerving and she blacked out again, tears still streeming down her face.
The next time she awoke she was in the dark, tied to a chair so tight her hands and feet were numb and tingly from lack of circulation, the bag that had been over her face in the car was gone, but it didn’t make any difference. She still could see nothing.
CHAPTER 3
Mike sat, stunned for a moment as David roared away, tail lights flickering between the trees. “this's gotta be a joke” he thought, but David really wasn't the prankster, that was his job! Elizebeth couldn't be kidnapped, that kinda thing didn't-
“Lets go!” Tom said jumping to his feet, and the spell over the stunned clearing was broken, everyone rushed to their cars, and Toms voice lanced out again, the harsh whip of reality cracking over head. “Someone call the sheriff!” with a flurry of car doors, and the sputtering of engins the frantic convoy was off, heading down the road after David.
Digging franticly in his pocket, Mike pulled out his phone and diled, getting only a buisy signal. What the crap man! He thought, this is an emergency! And he jammed the redile button as the first gunshot rang through the trees. “Oh crap!” he said and the operator picked up.
“Hello, 911 emergency”, she sounded stressed, “Hey Lady! My buddies girl's been kidnapped and now hes chasin after them, and i just heard a gun shot!” BANG, BANG! “THREE gun shots!””Please stay calm,” easy for her to say! “we've already heard from two of your other friends, we're sending out an amber allert now and all four cars are on their way.” snapping his phone shut, Mike fumbled with the radio and with the hiss of statick he caught the end of an annoying buzz tone and an electronic voice rang through the car, THIS IS AN AMBER ALLERT!!! ELIZABETH -------- HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED, SHE IS A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD, COCASION FEMAIL, FIVE TWO WITH DARK BROWN HAIR AND GREEN EYES, REPEAT, THIS IS AN AMBER ALERT!!!
Mike switched off his radio as the anoying buzz came back, signaling the end of the alert, and sped aroung a cornesr, hearin the shreik of tires ahead, and then a crash, his foot hovered between the gass and the break, uncertainly untill ahead, Toms car swerved off the road, to folow battered and bruised earth across the short gap to the highway. And as mike folowed, the trail, he spotted davids truck in the ditch, headlights blaizing into the night sky and steam pouring out from under the hood.
Tom was already leaping out of his car and running to the old red Ford. Mike yanked open his door, strughlingm with his seatbelt and cursing when it caught around his neck. By the time he'd extracted himself Rachel and .Shantell were getting out of their car and Jacen was pulling up behind them.
It had been Mike who saw him first. Realizing that it was David they were looking for, the fastest guy on the football team and state champion in track long distance, he had started down the road in the direction of the skid marks, continuing on farther than they had the first few times. He drove slowly for almost an hour, and was about to turn back, thinking he’d gone far enough, when he saw David through his windshield. If he hadn’t have been going so slow, he would have run over him. David had been slumped over, his arms hanging by his sides as if they were stuffed and his eyes glazed, staring down the road. There was a deep gash on his forehead, blood soaked his right arm from a bullet hole in his shoulder, he had numerous other cuts and bruises from crashing into the ditch, and he was deep in shock.
Now Tom wasn’t a lover of the woods like David, nor was he into the medical field so he never saw a reason to learn how to deal with delusional people. But his mother had forced him to go to scouts for a year and he remembered a few things from the first aid lesson. So he ran back to his little car and reached into the back, pulling out the thick quilt he’d brought for Rachel, and draped it over David, gently laying him down on the road side. Then he’d called Mike, who was back with the main group, and soon his best friend was on his way to the hospital.
While the search for David was going, the sheriff, after hearing the story of why David was missing with his truck in a ditch, left the three other town police with the search party and drove slowly back to town. Over and over he worded what he was going to say to Michael and Susanna Taylor. When he finally got out of his car in front of their house he was fairly confident on how he would tell them that their daughter had been kidnapped. he climbed the porch steps, every creak of wood a sorrowful harold of the news he bore the good people inside the house. Crossing the final distance to the door he raised a hand, knocking three times. Or at least he meant to, for as his fist hit the door, instead of producing a solid rap, it swung open, and seeing the front room, the sheriff froze.
A broken table leg had stopped the door from swinging in all the way, and a mirror on the far wall was broken, reflecting the room in cracks and fragments. As he stepped into the house he noticed that the couch was over turned, the TV had fallen to the floor, and the coffee table was smashed, one of its legs the one at his feet holding the door.
“Mr. Taylor?!” he called, realizing his gun was in his hand, he didn’t remember drawing it. “Mrs. Taylor?!” but nobody answered, and nobody would.
David Bastian awoke slowly, fighting desperately to keep his heart closed, to keep the terrible pain from breaking through the blissful dam of sleep and washing him away. But the fight was doomed before it began, and he was swept away. A man standing in the riverbed with his hands stretched futilely before him. He lay on his bed, consumed by his raging emotions, and the swirling images of Elisabeth.
Slowly, David turned and sat up. His feet coming to rest on the soft rug in front of his bed and slumped there, his head in his hands, trying desperately to contain the swirling currents of rage, despair, and helplessness that were thrashing him to pieces. Crashing him against the rock of Elisabeth’s kidnapping that he caried with him. Finally, taking a deep breath, he reigned in the storm that circled tightly around him, and lifted his head.
For a long while David glared at the tan rug beneath his feet, imagining charging into the sheriffs office and demanding answers., and smiled grimly at a particularly fierce section where he threw aside the desk and held the frustratingly uncooperative deputy against the wall until he spoke. The in action was driving him mad! They hadn't gotten anywhere as far as he knew, and the only way he'd been able to help was by telling the sheriff the license number of the black suv. After that, whenever he'd approached an officer, they had calmly told him that the police were working hard to find Elisabeth and to go home and let them handle it.
Taking a deep breath, he held it for a moment thrying to calm himself, and then, running a hand through his hair he looked blankly at his dresser in anticipation of wearing clothes. As he leaned forward to open the top drawer containing shirts, a light blue paper, neatly folded with his name in red ink caught his eye. Great, he thought, another pity note that wants to be touching. He lifted his hand over the paper and let it fall, his fingers closing limply around the thin blue stationery, dragging it off the dresser top by the weight of his arm.
Carelessly, he unfolded it, and looked down at the message, reading the first line that was scrawled in a hurried hand. For a moment he didn’t comprehend what he read, snorting afterward in contempt of the expected cheesy frothel and strting to toss it asside when what was actually written sank in, and he stared again at the first words.
A steely determination came rushing through him, and he knew what he was going to do. His face hardened and his jaw clenched as he gazed at the red letters that spelled out the first sentence that had made sense since the water tower. He stood, the words blazing in his mind, and lighting his world like a beacon fire.
You can save her.
CHAPTER 4
Elisabeth stared blankly at the brick wall in front of her, the fear that had been her constant companion for who knows how long seemed muted now, she hardly noticed it anymore. A sound in the other room brought her mind back in focus, and hope stirred in her as she heard someone approach the door to the dark little room she was in.
please let it be the polece! She thought, or david... she had had amaizing dreams bouth awake, and asleep, where he had come bursting into the room and whisked her away. But when the door opened it was one of the kidappers, and the cold fear came blaizing back to the fore front of her mind. Fear of death, or worse, at the hands of thease men.
CHAPTER 5
“Ok David.”
Golden Wings On Trees of Blue
So I know that this picture isn't writing...but
It was at least what I was working on.
Perhaps at some point of time I'll set some kind of poem to it, but for now...just look at the birds, aren't they pretty?
It was at least what I was working on.
Perhaps at some point of time I'll set some kind of poem to it, but for now...just look at the birds, aren't they pretty?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Callao and the Monster Hood
Meeting Is On!
Okay everybody. Next meeting is tomorrow, Wednesday 01/13/10, at Rachel's house. You know the drill--call or text me if you need help getting there. If you've created anything (particularly writing) since last week, post it here! I think moving some of our stuff to the blog will help the meetings move faster. If some people have already read the things people are bringing, then we'll spend less time passing papers around, right? And with college starting again, we need all the time we can get.
See you tomorrow, Somnambulists!
See you tomorrow, Somnambulists!
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