Hello everyone! This is a thread for short stories. For those one chapter/ one post little bits of writing that need a home . Plus this cleans up FF and keeps little snippets from getting lost in the swirl of craziness Post them here and get them read and feedbacked! I know I have a lot of great ideas for short stories and never know where to put them, so I will probably be posting A LOT! Don't be afraid! Be cool!
The Dark of the Moon Through the branches of the trees clear light showed. The stars glittered up in their heavenly cradles, but the crescent moon was hidden from view. In the middle of the forest stood a village. During the day traders crowded the streets as customers bustled from stall to stall, buying groceries and trinkets for loved ones. Tonight however it was still as a graveyard. No one ventured outside of their homes, be they destitute peasants in mud huts or rich men in castle style homes many stories tall. One person dared venture through the night, one who feared nothing and terrified everything. She was Diablo's hand, the night's blade, or merely Witch. Peasants in their huts or rich men in their barricaded castles, no one was safe. She wasn't old, not by a long shot, but her dark violet eyes were filled with the wisdom of the ages. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid down her back, and a dark hooded cloak covered her body. Tonight's target was a young man, name not important. He lived in the grandest, most stately home by the edge of the forest. Guards, dogs, traps, lasers? They were nothing to her. She walked through them like a ghost. Nothing could see her, hear her or hurt her unless she so wished. The door to the young man's room creaked open. He twitched and moaned in his bed, lost far away in dreamland. His hair was like the sun, a shining golden color, and he was muscled and tan. The witch chuckled to herself as she lightly ran his fingers through his golden hair. She scooped him up, then gently laid him on the floor. She worked quickly and staked his hands and feet through the thick wooden boards and drew a circle around him to form satan's star. Caught deep within her spells, he only slept deeper and quieter. She began to chant as she drew symbols on his chest and the wooden floor. In one instant he stiffened, his eyes wide open, his muscles straining, then his head fell back, and his eyes closed as his muscles relaxed. The witch hurried to unstake him, but left the symbols as they were. His eyes opened once more. Instead of his deep blue, they were now a bright blood red. She smiled as she looked over her handiwork. "Get us out of here," she commanded, and he nodded, picked her up, and stood at the window. Then, with one fluid motion his dark wings opened and he jumped, glass shattering. Alarms went off and men yelled, but the Darkwing and his passenger had flown away. _________________ Comments/Critiques are appreciated!
cool. I like it. My short story. Sandwich I sleepily crawled out of my dwelling, as I found a sandwich on my porch. The sandwhich was staring at me as i think,"Wait, sandwhiches don't have eyes, therefore they cannot stare at me, so it is I, who is staring at the sandwich." "Well...if this is for me..." I picked up the sandwich and ran back inside. Because the mailman was staring at me like I was retarded. At lunch time, the sandwich had been coming close to my mouth. Then I smell something. "This is rotted tuna." -------------—-——-------------- I was bored...
The Curse of Necromancy Black rain clouds slowly formed over the village to make one dense cloud. Even with the awful weather the villagers continued the festival of M'Saati. Ribbons and different coloured lamps infested the grimy tiled streets as happy infants skipped up and down. Adults laughed and bumbled, trying to imbracs the festival of M'Saati; trying to ignore the prophecy. Trying to forget the Elders. Trying to escape the clouds. Tables lined all the roads like a network, food littered the wooden slabs. Chicken, beef, pork, geese. This was a treat for the town people, they never got any meat but the Monarch needed some kind of happiness in his Kingdom. As the clouds started to thin more children started to run around. A girl tripped on one of the wooden table legs. As the shards of wood flung into her skin, slashing her open, her knee dragged on the jagged tiles; blood spraying over the rocks. As the street got painted a deep crimson the girl burst into tears. Her eyes were raw as she violently rubbed the tears away. Loud wails could be heard that suddenly got silenced… to be followed by a scream. The girl stared at her hand, a black Egpytian eye slowly infected her hand. "What is that?" She wailed. Her vains slowly discoloured to dark black. Her skin shriveled. Thunder cracked in the clouds, wind howled. The same words whistled in the air. "Satan's spell, child from hell. Death's curse, wield the power." Screeching and wailing echoed. The girl screamed as a shadow black dagger shot into her neck. Jews of ruby red blood splattered the tables and houses deep red. The Mayor rushed over the bleeding girl, her head flopped and easily moved. Her eyes were wide with shock, her black pupils slowly retracting from a massive pop. Shadow entrails licked off her slim frame and into the sky. The followed to top of the spire. The mayor's gaze followed them. He looked just in time to see the hooded man leap off it; wrapped in a shield of darkness. Idk if I should add and make it a proper story or leave it at that…
The dark of the moon thing reminded me (from the title) of the newest transformers movie I saw last night: Transformers: Dark of the Moon. A Michel Bay film.
Zaln, you may as well watch two hours of people shouting "Bumblebee!" and "Don't do it" with explosions behind. Looks AWFUL.