The Smeargle's Studio Writing Thread

The story I wrote last year in February. Nothing deep and dark, but I didn't put much effort in so hey!

Not too long ago, my city was a happy place filled with happy people and Sentients who thrived in the productive, rich and joyful atmosphere of Aurelia, the Country Centre. I, too, as a young child, frolicked and laughed in the sunshine amongst the fountains and trees with friends and family. Picnics in the shade, swimming in the sparkling turquoise rivers and hide-and-seek in the boulder fields. I lived through my early years in a place of peace and friendship. But on the winter solstice, night of evil, it changed forever. I, Seraphi, would never be the same again.


It was the night of the winter solstice. The city was dilapidated and shadowed, with only the Core Dwelling piercing through the shroud of black to be seen in the oppressive gloom. It had been three years since ChaosHarken had descended upon Aurelia, bringing the slaves of darkness with him. All night long they had slashed and destroyed, leaving only with the coming of the sun. What remained was a dimly lit, ruined scene of destruction. The original leader had long since been enveloped by darkness and held in the clutches of the Dark Descent, unable to be killed completely. Baku-Shan and Zanba patrolled the vicinity of the Core Dwelling and the slaves of darkness roamed the streets, searching for law-breakers. The city of what was now Malmillenia, no longer a kind blessed place c, was an inescapable hell-hole. The Country Centre had been captured, and they had finally depleted the guard shield over the other towns and cities in the country. Total capture was finally underway.

The old porcupine Sentient glimpsed seven lone figures slipped into the Core Dwelling. The guards lay paralysed on the ground, though the porcupine could not guess why. Another figure slipped in behind them, darting to a corner faster than she could blink.

A lone raven flew over the Devildesert Sector. A moving wave of darkness swallowed the sand as the sun set across the horizon. If he had landed, it would have been his doom.


A girl dressed in swirls of blue pressed herself against the wall, shrouding herself in a dark sheet of what appeared to be water to evade detection. She was followed by a boy who smelt like smouldering coals, and a girl whose hair whipped around her head, refusing to be still.

“Aegis!” she hissed, loudly as she dared. “Where are you?” Another boy appeared from the ceiling, lowered by one of the multiple vines choking the room.

“Stop fooling around!” breathed the coal-boy

The boy named Aegis raised a finger to his lips. The water-girl and Aegis stealthily crept into another room, after the girl had silenced the security alarm with a small spell she had made.

“Wait!”

The windy girl and the coal-boy hurried after them.

Jiji and Baba waited in their office. It had taken so long to get a position in the offices of ChaosHarken, but they had finally done it, using their knowledge of darkside magic and Baba's amazing acting skill to convince the head of the Admission Staff, who was not the brightest firefly in the woods. And now, as Night Watchservants for the Dark Plants Wing, they waited for the children of the Earth Mother.


Yakatara, the girl with the tousled hair, floated through the door of Jiji and Baba's office, closely followed by Zhuqia, the coal-boy, Azul, the water-girl and Aegis, the boy who manipulated the ceiling and the vines. Close behind came a slim girl with a brilliant yellow kimono and a staff bearing a large gold topaz.

“It is time, my dears. We have fully constructed the plan and we have concocted the powder to place in the ChaosGallance's quarters.” whispered Baba, the old woman who cared for all the children.

“Seraphi, now you will be avenged for the capture of your mother.” said Jiji, Baba's husband.

“We are all ready?” Azul asked. “Then Baba will explain the plan.”

The person the porcupine had seen rushed through every room with stealth, following the Element Children's steps.

As Baba finished explaining her plan to the others, Yakatara froze.

“I hear something! Shhh!” she hissed.

Everyone listened, but only Yakatara's amazing hearing managed to pick up an extremely faint pattering sound coming down the corridor.

“Quick! Veil us with the vines, Aegis!” breathed Zhuqia.

The vines growing all over the Dark Plant Office twisted around them to form a pyramid of plants that shielded them from view. Seconds later the door opened and a tall, slim figure clad in black emerged into the room. The person took something out of a pocket and slipped into the next room. Warily, the vines withdrew to let the seven friends free.

“Who was that?”

“Probably another person trying to get rid of the Chaos Harken.”

“Why?”

“Winter solstice is the only night it is possible to enter the building.”

“Should we stay here?”

A huge scream echoed from the adjacent room and they could only stare helplessly as the Zanba trotted into the room, an angry girl held aloft on the tip of its sword.

“Let me GO!”

The furious girl thrashed and kicked as the two-headed horse-like warrior advanced into the room.

“Be quiet!”

The Zanba waved its arm and the girl's mouth twisted inwards. She fell silent immediately.

“And who are you? Tut, tut, kiddies in the corridors. And trusted employees, too. Master will punish you badly!”

“You have no proof of what we were trying to do!” yelled Zhuqia.

“So what was your friend here doing?”

“We don't know her!” he shouted, guilty and terrified.

Zanba simply bound them in darkness ropes and dragged them after him to the cells, where they would await the judgement of the ChaosHarken.


Seraphi sat huddled in a corner, emitting a faint glow as she tried desperately to cast a spell in the magic-proof room. Zhuqia paced quickly around the magic-reinforced limestone walls, while Azul, Aegis and Yakatara simply lay on the hard floor in despair. Jiji and Baba sat talking to each other in a corner, trying to figure out what to do. And the mystery girl sat in a corner with a guilty look on her face.

Yakatara was eavesdropping on Jiji and Baba when Zanba materialised inside their solid cubic cell.

“The master will see you in thirty minutes. Enjoy your punishment!”

A wicked smile grew across both the Zanba's faces, and he left.

“I don't know if it occurred to any of you, but we should try to get out of here before our execution!” These were the first words of the girl who had got them a death charge in the first place.

“Yeah, it has, but we are in a SPELL-PROOF CELL, IN CASE YOU DIDN'T REALISE! AND IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU, WE WOULDN'T BE HERE!!!!!!!!!”

Quieted by Zhuqia's outburst, the girl simply mumbled: “Bread and water...” and lapsed into silence.

“Hey, what's that?” asked Seraphi in surprise.

“Our pre-execution snack?” Aegis got up and picked it up.

“Don't eat it!” Baba shuffled over and snatched it quickly. “It's poisoned. We suffer before they kill us. We don't really need food half an hour before we're killed. You didn't think ChaosHarken ran a jury, did you?”

Seraphi sat down and thought hard while everyone else inspected the food and water.
They had been given eight stale breadbuns on a crudely fashioned metal plate, and a jug of water. And then her quick mind had an idea.


“Hey, Jiji! You know how last year ten people tried to attack on the winter solstice, and thirty-two the year before? They might think we're just a regular group of people trying like those before us to overthrow the Dark Descent. And you aren't the first staff to try it. Last year, they announced three staff executions. So, they haven't paid too much attention to us in particular or where they put us, right? And these walls are limestone. Best recipient for spell-proofing magic, but highly susceptible to acids. We have a jagged plate, revolting food and eight stomachs full of hydrochloric acid, one of the best acids for dissolving limestone and sandstone. Now go figure.”

Jiji started to speak, but Azul cut in, shimmering like she did when excited.
“One person eats a poisoned bun, then vomits on the wall, then saws through the wall a bit, we repeat the process eight times, then smash the weakened wall through and fly out on Yakatara's' updraught? And isn't that revolting?”

“Yep, but we only have twenty-five minutes, so it's time to start now!!!”
Seraphi glanced at the countdown clock floating in the air nervously.

The mystery girl leapt straight up and took a huge bite out of one of the buns. Her face went white and...She threw up all over the wall, covering it in green sludge. Zhuqia quickly jumped in and sawed furiously at the wall, careful to use only one jagged area. Chips and dust fell out of the wall and made the girl cough loudly. Next was Azul, but this time, small pebble-sized bits of stone came out when the wall was cut. Yakatara, Seraphi, Baba, Jiji (complaining vomiting was bad for old men), and finally Zhuqia all vomited on the wall in turn, and the wall was cut each time. By the end, huge chunks had come out of the wall in places, and the limestone powdered when rubbed. And then, the ram. All the younger people smashed the wall with their feet, and a medium-sized hole appeared in the wall! Another kick, and the hole was big enough for everyone to climb through. But then Seraphi glanced at the countdown clock and gasped. One minute left, and Yakatara was just bringing a cloud up on an updraught to meet them , hovering outside the building. Then Zanba materialised before them.


It all happened in a flash. Everyone leapt onto the cloud without thinking, Aegis summoned up the bits of stone and hurled them back as they zoomed out of sight just after an enormous black shadow appeared at the wreckage. With her last breath, Seraphi wheezed: “Go to the Transfield atop the building!”

As Yakatara forced the cloud upwards, everyone else glanced downwards to see a small icy figure with a large bow tied around its middle. It was floating after them with haste, and a small ice cloud blew around its head.

“Faster!” yelled Baba. “That's the Baku-Shan! Don't let her reach us!”

Desperately, Azul tried to hurl some water at her, but with her weakness, hunger and the fact she was poisoned, the small aqueous orb just froze in the air. Zhuqia and Aegis also attempted to do something, but all they managed to do was fill the cloud with mud and set Azul's hair on fire.

“Jiji, Baba! Do something!”

But Baba and Jiji hadn't handled the poison well at all, and they could do nothing but tell Yakatara to go faster. They could see the top of the building, and were only seconds away, but the Baku-Shan was gaining on them, throwing icy hunks as she went. Suddenly, the cloud froze over, but everyone else did not. They went flying into the rooftop, landing on a large pink square surrounded by servants of darkness, scythes, lanterns and all. Everyone simply stood there, waiting to be cut into bits. But they didn't see them. They all turned to Baba, expecting a brainy reply. But all she did was press a button and say:

“Devildesert Sector, request of Baku-Shan, Second-in-Command to ChaosHarken, password S-W-A-R-M. Thank-you, and all support of the Descent. Terminate request.”

And as they saw the Baku-Shan hurl a dark blob directly at them, they vanished.


The strange girl clad in black awoke to see the four strange teenagers stuffing their heads in large orb of water. She knew who they were, but really, she had no intention of revealing what she knew. Not her. The coincidence of running into them had made her wonder about her goal....A faint noise in her head made her jolt quickly upwards. A faint clicking underneath her head. As she brushed sand off her torn garments, the girl dressed in bright yellow, Seraphi, turned to her.

“You slept well for someone with such a guilty conscience! What's that look? I'm joking! Azul's made us some water, and Aegis has conjured some desert onions out of the ground! Zhuqia's roasting them with some fire, Baba has given antidote to everyone, even you in your sleep, and the others are busy eating and drinking. Do you want some onions and water, then?”

The girl nodded meekly and said “Yes, please...” trailing off.

“Come over and sit with our group. If you're coming with us, you need to get to know us better. And I know you surely can't survive out here by yourself with no water or food, so please just come with me. Okay?”

She decided to go with them, though she wasn't looking forward to the whingey old man and the hot-headed fire-boy reprimanding her. Once she had sat down on the grey sand, the girl was passed four slightly charred onions on a strange mud plate. She had a feeling that Aegis (she had heard his name when stuck in the limestone cell) had made this too, and it seemed her suspicions were true: they were the Element Children.

THROUGH THE PRICKING OF MY THUMBS, SOMETHING EVIL THIS WAY COMES​

“Did you feel that?” asked Yakatara excitedly.

“Smrfflllgrfffl...” mumbled Jiji, interrupted from his doze.

“I did.” said the mystery girl.

“Feel what?” asked Zhuqia in surprise.

“I did too!”

“And me!”

Seraphi and Aegis confirmed Yakatara's sense of touch and hearing was not hyperreactive.

Baba's face suddenly blanched.

“Through the pricking of my thumbs, something evil this way comes...” she chanted in an eerie monotone.

“Hey, don't scare us, Baba!” cried Zhuqia, oblivious to the fact she wasn't acting.

“We need to find a place to hide, and fast! Quickly, children, we must go, before sunset arrives!”

“Can't we just levitate on a cloud?”

“There are no clouds here. And if anything is not ordinary, it will be...inspected. Only Yakatara could hide in the air.”

“Water mirror?”

“So many eyes can surely pick a flaw...”

“Wings of fire?”

“Smoke is smelt, my boy. That is useless.”

“Hiding inside a sandstorm? Giant cactus?”

“There are no cacti large enough to conceal us that live here. And a sandstorm means nothing to the March of Ebony.”

“So, we must march onward until we find...what I hope is there. Jiji, you big lump, get up and direct the children. Seraphi, bring up the rear. And you, my girl, please stay behind a moment.”

After Baba thought Yakatara had passed outside hearing distance, she turned to the girl and spoke softly:

“Shadra, my dear, I know who you are, and what you know. I will have to tell my story later. For now, remember I watch over you.”

And without another word, Shadra and Baba hurried after the others, lest they be left behind.


They had been floating on a lone cloud luckily spotted by Yakatara for hours (though it was running out of puff), and it was starting to cool down at last.

“At last! The hot sun is finally going down!” sighed Yakatara happily.

Everyone else goggled at her before immediately turning to look at the sun. It was indeed becoming smaller on the horizon, and even now they could see it descending further.

“Oh, right, that's bad...” Yakatara mumbled gloomily. She forced the cloud to move as fast as it could, beads of sweat trickling down her face and flying off her whipping hair.

Then they heard the clicking. Everyone this time.

“They're getting closer to the surface every second!” wailed Baba. “Faster! We have to find a cactus forest now!!!”

The cloud sped onwards, its flight disturbed only by the increasingly frequent clicking noises. And then they spotted a lone cactus plant.

“Keep going! A cactus forest is the only place where we can hide!” yelled Baba, but she sounded relatively relieved. They went past more and more cacti, and finally, Baba said: “Stop!” The cloud vaporised and they tumbled into the sand, where they could hear almost constant clicking.

“Quick! Aegis, hide us in a hollow cactus! Now!” said Jiji, trying to take part in the action.

Aegis conjured up a huge cactus plant out of the sand, and it dropped over them, leaving a tiny hole for sight.

And just seconds after they were concealed from sight, a swarm of black burst from the dunes around them.


The ChaosHarken shifted from side to side of his room, its body dematerialising and rematerialising as it struggled with anger.

“They were the children of the Earth Mother?!?!?!?!?! And they have accompanying them the oldest resident of this city, her husband, and the rightful heir to the throne as well?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Not to mention the child from you-know where?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! AND you say she did not know the others would be there, but she knew who they were?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Do you have ANY IDEA what the consequences could be for the whole Dark Descent?!?!?!?!?!?! And you put them in an F-grade cell? And they somehow evaded the servants atop the building?!?!?!?!?!?! YOU MORONIC, @#$%^*,@#$$,@%@&^*,!#^@$%%$#,!@%$#,!#@%$&^#*&^%,!@%^%$ IDIOT!”

“Uh, they have a spell tracker on them, so we can find them if you please, Master...”

“Zanba, you shall go. But not till the night of the Ebony March has passed. And if you do not capture them, you will send for Baku-Shan, hmmmm? And if she fails, and you fail, and the both of you fail, SEND FOR ME! Now go, you stupid, two-headed horse warrior!”
Its voice boiled with repressed rage.

Zanba hurried from the room, weapons in hand, and prepared to leave the following day.

“He smells like a horse, too,” added ChaosHarken to itself as an afterthought, as it flung a chair across the room.

They could only stare helplessly and silently as a wave of huge black scorpion-like creatures rose from the sand and swarmed over the land, pincers clicking, wings whirring, and mouth snapping ferociously. Like a black sheet they spread across the desert, marching on the land, and flying in the air, inspecting everything as they passed. As they tapped the hollow cactus, everyone thought they would be found. But the strange creatures passed them by. An unsuspecting bird soaring too low was snatched and shredded to bits as they watched in terror, then consumed by the black monster in a horribly swift gulp. For hours, they poised motionless as the wave of darkness swarmed over everything, devouring anything they found. For hours, they watched as they scoured every inch of sand. For hours they dared not move, sneeze, eat, drink, and relieve themselves, anything that made a sound. All they could do was watch as the creatures laid rack and ruin to everything. Everything except the cacti. And finally, they saw the black creatures begin to return to the sands from whence they came. Of course, Aegis let out a sneeze.


At first, Aegis thought nothing had happened.

Are we safe?

But then, a lone creature burrowed slowly out of the dunes, and crawled sleepily over to the cactus, clearly dazed by the rising sun. It did not, however, attempt to destroy the cactus. All it did was clamber upwards to peep through the small peephole.

Mother, protect us, and by God, don't let it see us.

But with seven other sets of eyes staring right at the strange creature, it was hard not to miss the eight huddled figures squashed inside.

Zanba galloped swiftly through the thick sand, his specially designed hooves making short work of the unstable surface. He knew where to look. The cactus forest, their only hope. But he still had no clue why that demented old woman and her stupid husband would not remember the March was the night after each solstice.

Zhuqia waited in silence for the odd arachnoid to slice open their hollow hiding spot. But it didn't. What it did do was touch its large pincers to the cactus wall. At first Zhuqia thought nothing was happening, but it soon became apparent that the cactus was withering and dying at a rapid rate. Aegis, for fear of disturbing the inhabitants of the dunes, did not attempt to replenish the cactus at all. All that the companions could do was watch, too cramped to move at all.

Zanba sensed a fire spell to the north-west. He hurried off at breakneck speed, eager to gain back his trust with his Master. For if he failed twice more...that would be it. And Zanba did not want that to be it.

The creature was flung backwards as soon as the fire made contact. Unfortunately, what was left of the cactus went too.

“Fool!” hissed Jiji. “That cactus is all that was keeping us from death!”

But Zhuqia was too busy looking at the lone creature he had attacked. Its hard, obsidian carapace was swelling, and it seemed to be growing, becoming red as it inflated and grew.

“If everything evolves from a lower lifeform, you, Zhuqia, must be a direct descendant of primordial ooze,” said the frustrated Jiji.

By this time, what now appeared to resemble a humongous red monster had just about finished growing, and its pincers and horn were alarmingly large.

What have I done????

“What do we do, Baba?” asked a petrified Azul.

“Well, we cannot hide, we cannot run, and this creature will now recognise a false cactus. So unless anyone knows how to use weather, plants, water, earth, fire, spells or agility here,” grumbled Baba exaggeratedly, “we are stuffed as a glutton.”

With no idea what to do, Jiji impulsively fanned his hands and sent a small blast of white light at the grotesque monster. It just made it madder.

“Great help, but I think what we need is something that can wedge inside the carapace and attack from the inside. It will return to normal afterwards, right?”

It was that “mystery girl” who seemed to get all of Seraphi and Baba's attention.

“Like a ninja star? A dagger? Or a worm-thorn?” asked Seraphi calmly as the monster thrashed around, clearly still recovering from the sudden growth spurt.

“Um...yeah! And I happen to have hand-crafted worm-thorns here with me!”

But now everyone was watching the monster again. It seemed to have recovered from its shock, and was advancing upon them rapidly. Without a word, the strange girl dug a handful of wriggling spiky objects out of a small, undetectable bag concealed in her black clothes.

What the heck is her name?

As the monster released a spurt of poison from its mandibles, easily evaded by even creaky old Jiji, she darted in behind the monster and rammed the fistful of worm-thorns into a small gap in the hide of the mutant. A lot of them fell to the sand, but from the small smile on her face, Zhuqia guessed Anonymous had done it. What she did next surprised everyone, though Baba and Seraphi seemed to share a faint smile with each other.

Or was that my imagination?

She quickly stabbed the scorpion mutant in the same area with a small dagger, then leapt with amazing power to land on its back. As the monster roared in surprise and pain, she threw eight ninja stars straight into its eyes. Every one was a hit. Now blinded and quite disadvantaged, with the worm-thorns obviously weakening it significantly, the monster decided to use a sure-hit technique. With a humongous whack, it sent an enormous volume of sand up into their faces, which bit at everyone and made them flinch. Interestingly enough, no other black arachnoids emerged from the sand. With everybody cowering and sore, it waved a pincer around to determine where they were. But it did not realise that there was a girl on its back. As it leapt forward for breakfast, blue blood dripping from its carapace, Zhuqia saw Ms. Anonymous grab an antenna and jerk it to the left. The scorpion beast screeched and turned left to find the culprit. What she did next amazed everyone. She whacked the now-weak beast on the head and leapt off into the cushioning sand below as the enraged monster smashed its spiked claw into its head attempting to find its assaulter. Instead, it crashed through its hard shell and opened up a gaping wound from which worm-thorns squirmed to plop onto the dunes. Masses of blue blood spurted from the wound accompanied by a burst of hot smoke.

Ewwww! But why is it smoking? Is that my fire escaping and deflating the monster?

The monster was rapidly shrinking as black fumes of smoke issued from its body, stirring up a flurry of sand as it started to burrow down through the sand to return to its nest, to wait for the spring solstice to reawaken and return it to the desert scape.

“Uh, sorry?” Zhuqia mumbled at last.

Everyone glared menacingly at him. Then they burst out laughing.

“Humph!”

I am so stupid!

Hey, why didn't any other creatures come out of the sand??? And what is that girl's name? And where are we going? And why didn't the scorpion-thing just slash the cactus? And how do you know that girl and what was that big swarm of bug-things caused by and what are they and why did fire make them mad and when can I have some food and water and....”

Zhuqia's jumble of questions was cut short by Seraphi, who raised a hand and spoke.

“Baba will explain everything to us tonight when we reach the Thornforest Sector. But for now, let's have some food and drink! Azul, make us some water, please! It's desert onions again, I'm afraid. Oh, and this is Shadra. She knows all of you, though.”

How???

But Zhuqia and everyone else kept quiet, knowing that Baba would have her reasons for waiting until they had gone from the desert. They finished their water and onions quickly, Zhuqia roasting them with small flames. Then they packed up their few belongings (Zanba had taken anything they could use to break out of their cell), and waited for Yakatara to bring a cloud down from the sky to carry them across the desert. Once she had summoned it, they climbed on to the solidified cloud and waited for Yakatara to send the cloud on its course. But no sooner had they mounted the cloud than it vanished to leave them sprawled in the sand. And then Zhuqia felt a terrible feeling in his chest and looked towards the horizon. Zanba stood nearby with a triumphant look on his faces.

“Well, well, well. The Element Children, the Angel Nursery's carer, her husband, the heir to the throne, and a girl who has chosen an incorrect path from her origins. And all in one, ready to be captured. It was a mistake to place you in a low-security cell, but now I have found you puking putzes I can simply take you back with me. This Gate Disc will return you to the city the instant it touches you. Now be good and hand yourselves over. You are wanted alive, but I can hurt you. Badly.”

Zanba's words sent a chill through everyone's bodies as they listened, but none more so than Seraphi, who knew Zanba had been responsible for capturing her mother and handing her over to the ChaosHarken.

“So, will you come quietly, or shall I demonstrate my exceptional battle technique???”

“Please, show us your technique,” replied Baba, angered at Zanba's standoffishness. “Don't give in, children!”

“Like that's gonna happen!” cried Aegis, who conjured a pebble, throwing it at the sand.

“Well, you leave me no choice.” jeered Zanba, brandishing his scythe sword and pawing the ground.

“Not again,” sighed Azul, who made herself melt into a pile of liquid and slinked through the sand.

Aegis turned himself to stone, whilst Zhuqia made a hole appear in his hand, from which magma dribbled. Yakatara surrounded herself with a mini tornado, hair whipping furiously, and Seraphi disappeared to become a small orb of yellow light. Baba bloomed an odd rosebush in her hair, Shadra gripped her worm-thorns and a strange cloak, and Jiji simply stood there with glowing hands.

Zanba charged at Jiji, attempting to lance him with a sword, but stumbled slightly as a grey orb hit him in his horse-face. However, Jiji's magic had little effect, and a quick slash from Zanba sent him falling to the ground.

“Lack of skill and teamwork leads to failure!” retorted Zanba, who was now swiftly spinning on one hoof and cutting patterns in the air around him with his scythe.

How do we get our magic past his air scythe? wondered Aegis, but it seemed Azul had the answer. Her liquid form had not caught the attention of Zanba, and she sank under the sand to reappear underneath his hooves. She blasted a huge pump of water from below, which sent Zanba flying, and returned to her normal form, exhausted from the strength of her attack. Zhuqia took advantage of this to charge up a large fire missile, which zoomed straight at Zanba before he could get up. Yakatara threw the mini sandstorm she had been enveloped in to send the horse-warrior skidding down a sand dune, stopped only by a very spiky cactus plant. They nervously rushed down to see if he was unconscious, but Aegis drew too close, and was met by a very strong kick in the stomach. His rocky body lowered the impact, but he was still knocked over by the force. With Jiji and Aegis out cold, they had no choice but to sweep backwards on a wind blast from Yakatara.

“Two down, six to go!” yelled Zanba, now with a few thorny adornments covering his body.

“At least Zanba is predictable and undisguised,” muttered Baba. “The Baku-Shan is a master of trickery and is by no means a warrior of any kind. And I'm sure she could easily fool some of us. Eeeek!” Baba's train of thought was interrupted by a prickly ball that had been thrown at her face, missing narrowly.

Twenty minutes later, Zanba had proved to be more unpredictable than Baba had expected. Jiji and Aegis were apparently still knocked out, and Zhuqia had been sent to sleep by a misfiring sleepy bubble from Azul. Baba wished that they could sort out things peacefully, or without a heavily armoured evil, mad horse warrior trying to kidnap them. Baba, Azul, Seraphi and Shadra were hiding behind a large cactus growing in some hard-baked soil while Yakatara was forming a large sandstorm, filled with hunks of earth from the cactus forest, sand and bits of cactus and desert onions, and Zanba did a strange war dance that seemed to serve no apparent purpose.

“I'd watch out if I was her. Zanba won't be mincing about.” whispered Seraphi.

Yakatara threw her sandstorm at Zanba who was swept up and tossed out about fifty metres away.

“Now!” hissed Baba urgently.

Shadra burst out from cover and began to run at top speed towards Zanba while Seraphi snuck out and summoned Aegis, Jiji, and Zhuqia's unconscious figures, which started floating slowly over the dunes towards her. Baba simply stood hidden behing the cactus to keep an eye on things. Yakatara appeared to be evading Zanba by dancing in the air, but he was still only war dancing. He stopped just before Shadra reached him and nearly hit her with a sideswipe. But something odd was faling from the sky: a huge black crystal shower which speared both Shadra and Yakatara repeatedly. It seemed that Yakatara had fallen to the ground, but Shadra used her last energy to throw some worm-thorns into Zanba's soft underbelly. Feigning unconsciousness, she lay there without moving. Zanba howled with rage as he saw his previous victims had disappeared.

Seraphi's white magic had already resuscitated Jiji, Aegis and Zhuqia, who were squashed behind the cactus along with Baba. Baba appeared to be draining something from the thorny plant, but the others were too busy looking at Zanba to notice. As a Gate Disc teleported the user and every other animal or vegetable the user was touching upon use, he needed them all unconscious touching each other to leave. But they needed to keep Seraphi from being attacked or they could not resuscitate their friends. Even if Shadra was not really unconscious, she didn't stand much of a chance of breaking away with a super-strong two-headed maniac binding them together. All they had to do was wait for the worm-thorns to cause bad bleeding. It seemed, however, they were a bit late, as Zanba ran towards their hiding spot.

Aegis jumped out before Zanba reached the cactus, throwing a conjured boulder into his face. As Zanba flinched, Aegis turned to stone, and a strange blast of water from Azul in turn made him mud. He and Azul, both in liquid forms, formed a large muddy wave, crashing over the confused warrior. Zanba suffered no injury or pain, but the bits of mud now stuck in his armour plating would prove to help in escaping the resilient henchman of the ChaosHarken.

ChaosHarken was growing impatient. Those ignorant children were surely not hard to injure, and as for the two old codgers, they surely couldn't outrun him. But it had begun to take over the Maritime and Sparklesea Sectors, and the Punee Sector was under total control. More and more people everywhere had swayed to its power for fear of death. Yes, some things were going well...

Zanba didn't know how to hurt mud or water, but he did know that a powerful bit of magic would change them back to normal. So he decided to set up a “shield” to encourage them to break it. They didn't know he couldn't really make one. He began to war dance on the spot. But the aqueous blobs didn't move. Just waited. He kept war dancing, but as it was pretend, nothing happened. Obviously they had guessed it was not realistic. And he did not notice the cactus behind him had gone brown and lifeless, nor that there was a woman with a quivering rose-monster on her head hiding behind it.

From behind the large cactus, Seraphi was turning into a small yellow orb. She floated down right into the sand, and sped off towards Shadra and Yakatara's sprawled bodies, camouflaged by the sand. Meanwhile, Jiji and Zhuqia had decided to get rid of the now shrivelled cactus that barely concealed them and turn it into a weapon. Baba obviously did not need it now she had a monster/bush in her hair. With a burst of flame, the cactus caught on fire. Jiji sent a blast of light at it while the heat-impervious Zhuqia clambered up the plant. It turned into a thorny rocket that zoomed through the air, trailing smoke behind it. Veering around as quickly as he could, Zhuqia used Zanba's confusion to slam directly into his belly, badly burning him in the process. Zhuqia leapt off the cactus, which continued to speed through the air, and rushed back towards Jiji and Baba.

“The old hag has been so close this whole time? The coward!!!”

With magnificent power, Zanba literally exploded with rage, sending Aegis and Azul flying in little drops to return to their human forms, badly injured. Jiji was too close as well, and the power sent him to his knees, moaning and convulsing in spasmodic pain.

“Baba!” croaked Jiji anxiously. “Do something!”

With Seraphi tending to Yakatara, seemingly unnoticed, and Shadra feigning unconsciousness, Baba was the only person left to stop the outrageous and protracted fight. She stood there in silence, an innocent rosebush atop her head.

“She's gone senile! Ha!” laughed Zanba, before charging straight at her. But somehow, she dodged the assault with ease to appear directly behind him. And then he noticed Seraphi, Yakatara and Shadra together in a group. Baba's bush-head silently threw a lone seed at Zanba's head, which simply latched on to the back of his rider-head, doing no more.

A drop of blood fell to the ground as the worm-thorns found their place.

Zanba felt strangely rusty and slightly caked in his armour as he tried to stab Baba again and again, only to have her reappear behind him, planting a seed each time. Small drops of blood began to quench the desert sand's eternal thirst as the worm-thorns burrowed deeper and deeper into Zanba's body. And his armour slowly stuck together as he feebly attempted to slash Baba's bush from her head. Then Baba did something odd. The bush on her head sent out long thin tendrils which reached for Zanba's seed-plagued head. No matter how many he slashed, they kept coming from wherever Baba teleported. In the background Seraphi had turned back into a glowing orb and was hastily drawing nearer to Baba and Zanba, Yakatara hiding inside a far-above cloud, and Shadra with her. Eventually, some tendrils found their anchors, latched onto the seeds and sucked. Zanba had finally noticed he was bleeding, feeling strangely weak. With no time for first aid, he had no choice but to attack Baba. A war dance could not possibly work, unless he gained some distance between Baba and himself. But when he tried to run, he noticed his armour was stiff and inhibiting. When he tried to remove the tendrils from his head, they simply regrew. Now dizzy and faint, he could do nothing but slash the air feebly as the seeds sucked the energy from him, with charred, torn, mud-caked armour doing little. Then he remembered his secret weapon. As Baba pumped energy for her final assault, a blinding flash rocked the desert, hurling everyone on the ground backwards at the same time a huge green bush jumped onto Zanba and blew up in a bomb of green and purple, thorns piercing his unprotected skin. However, Zanba allowed himself a smile as he realised (or thought) that all his enemies were down. But before he could struggle up on his weakened legs, two girls fell on him from the sky and another, the heiress, sent a gigantic golden blow directly at his face, and he slipped into the world of unconsciousness at last...

“Is he alright?” asked Shadra anxiously, staring at the small, exposed pony-like creature lying in the sand.

“He will most certainly be. Seraphi has eliminated the darkness from his heart. Now he is merely a cute Hoofed Sentient who wants nothing more than to return home. And we will let him.” explained Baba.

“We once knew him,” said Jiji wistfully, “but he was consumed by the darkness that spread over his life and turned to ChaosHarken for a way to survive.”

“Let's send him home with the Gate Disc.” suggested Azul helpfully.

Baba inserted the coordinates for his family far away and gently dropped the disc onto his sleeping body. And just like that, he vanished, to return to a life of happiness.

Night had fallen, and the group were gathered around a fire in a forest laden with thornbushes and tall spiky trees.

“Okay, my friends, it is time I told you my story.”

BABA'S STORY

“ A while ago, before anyone here was born (except Jiji, who probably witnessed the birth of the Sentients) I worked in an all-ages nursery and orphanage, taking children of all ages when their parents needed to go somewhere, or for people to stay in hard times. Children who had no parents or a place to live were accommodated in the orphanage. The food was delicious, pay was very little, and only if you were over 22 and under elderly age, and also only if you were staying for convenience. I had set up this place out of the sheer will to help people and Sentients. We had a nightly food give-away for homeless and poor beings, and it was very popular. We received funds from the Core Advisor, enough to happily go about our lives and pay for the business. There were forty-two of us working there, all of us with equal say (though I owned the buildings) and we believed we had found a meaning to life. But then, one day, the Element Mother arrived in disguise with four newborn babies. A creature known in fear as the ChaosHarken had appeared in the world, and was searching for the baby children. She left weeping. From then on, I raised Aegis, Zhuqia, Yakatara and Azul with a wary love, in case this creature appeared. The next day, a young girl clad entirely in black clutching a worm-thorn farm and small bag laden with stealth weapons appeared, her only other possessions a plush Poyo doll and a small black crystal.

She said only she had escaped from her parent and wanted to live here. Of course, I said she could stay. All the staff agreed too, but I wondered about the dark crystal. She seemed to know who the Element Children were, but stayed away from them at all costs. I had personally assigned myself to caring for these five children, for obvious reasons, but I did not hint at Shadra's true identity for a long time. The only further thing to happen afterwards was the induction of a purple Stinkbug into the orphanage a week later. The Stinkbug seemed quite wise, and had a habit of vanishing from the orphanage a lot, but as many residents could do so at will, it was nothing unusual. Just a normal lonely child. It was about a month later that Seraphi started to visit with her mother Ophani and father Kuzuhai, at six years old. They had dropped in to say hello, as I was an old friend, but Seraphi took a shine to me and the staff and regularly popped in. She played often with the Element Children, at first shaking rattles and running around as the babies tried to hit her with splashes of water and ice, fire and magma, rocks and leaves, wind gusts and lightning. For eight years this went on, but Shadra not once was seen at the same time as Seraphi, like some instinct made her leave at her arrival, for not once did she claim to have seen Seraphi at all. After these eight years, Seraphi was fourteen, like Shadra, and the Element Children were all eight. And then we received word that the ChaosHarken was planning to wriggle his underlings into the city and break a hole in the Evil-Proof Dome. He sent in non-evil, gullible henchmen who slowly disintegrated the cities' ways, though not many noticed. The Raccoon Sentients were among the first to find out. The Seraph Squad of Angels also twigged on quickly. The Dog Sentients, Penguinoid Sentients, Seahorse Sentients and Turtle Sentients were soon to follow. The orphanage/nursery lost customers quickly. Many orphans were withdrawn by foster parents worried for children safety.

Through this time my suspicions had been rising, I had done research and then I realised: the ChaosHarken had created a child to be its very important heir in case anything happened. But she had buckled on discovering this, and fled for her life. While Ophani was certainly an authoritative panjandrum, there was only so much she could do. Seeds of chaos slowly mixed through town. The orphans kept being adopted through fear, until only Shadra, the four children, the reclusive Stinkbug Sentient nobody wanted, four staff and Jiji, my husband were left. I realised in time we had to prepare for escape. I knew ChaosHarken would succeed in capturing Aurelia. So I formed a plan with the Element Children, Jiji and Seraphi. But Shadra and Stinkbug had disappeared. I found out Shadra escaped to an abandoned shack to prepare herself as best she could, without ever meeting the Element Children, for fear of doing something uncontrollable towards them. The Stinkbug vanished, but Shadra remained in hiding for three years. And then the night arrived. The dome cracked. Dark slaves and poisoned Sentients arrived in droves. The ChaosHarken was seen swirling across the sky towards the Core Building. And then the light went out. We all heard Ophani and Kuzuhai scream. Every building was ravished, every tree was poisoned, every street was guarded. Kuzuhai escaped and disappeared. Ophani was not able to be killed, instead they placed her in a Dark Torturer Ultimate, where she still writhes in pain today.

For three more years we trod carefully, showing no signs of betrayal, but researching everything about our new city, Malmillenia, that we could. I learnt of the winter solstice, job applications, torture, punishments and more from the Earth Mother's guiding spirit which managed to reach out to me by coming on the winds. The Earth Mother, able to shape the world at will. I still do not know how she managed to talk to me. Jiji and I applied for jobs in the Dark Plant Offices, the only offices that had wide enough air vents for our plan. Acting evil and twisted, we used our universal knowledge of darkness (even long before the catastrophe I read many, many books, as well as regularly talking with the Earth Mother) to fool the Applicatorator. And so we ended up working for the Core Building and got an inconspicuous job tending ugly slimy vines and stinging nettles. Eventually, we devised a plan to get rid of the dark powers once and for all. I concocted a superholy powder from extremely rare ingredients I had collected and saved, such as a shed feather from a Seraph angel, and a ten-year old Snake Sentient tail scale, using an awfully hard method, but I did it in the end, using you children's help to stir, blend and combine. Just a sniff of the powder would instantly destroy pure evil. Then we planned to stay back at work on the winter solstice, the only night anyone could enter Malmillenia's core without interrogation. All the servants were permitted a night off, to wreak havoc amongst the inhabitants of the city and do as they pleased. (Now, none of you know this small part, so listen.) I cooked up a half-baked story about searching for my glasses, which I had unnecessarily worn my whole time as a tool for excuses. The rather hopeless guard warned me to get out in a half hour and cast a Walking-Clock Spell on me, but it was easily cured with a bit of Time Potion (thanks, Jiji) and I began to ready the plan. Now, I also had a very small suspicion Shadra would attempt to break in and seek revenge on her “creator”. So I made sure I had hidden a vast majority of Concealed Concoctions inside my Vanishing Hairdo in case she had come, for I knew she would be caught without ancient magic, unless she happened to be a Chameleonoid Sentient, which was impossible, and we would need to escape.”

“I laid the powder in an air vent which I had....re-hooked to lead to ChaosHarken's quarters. Unable to use modern Magic or any chemical creation, it depended on you, children, to send the powder through the vent without it touching the sides. After I had placed the powder on a small pad next to the vent, I set about stilling the plants writhing around nearby to prevent them hindering or biting any of the Element Children, though I knew Aegis would probably be able to alter their root paths in the soily floors of the department. I checked to see if there was earth through all the floors, as Aegis could only manipulate plants if there were plants growing in the earth nearby, and Aegis' powers were required to hide us in emergency. I made sure that the vents were not fully spell-proof, and they weren't, as they did not normally lead to the ChaosHarken's chambers. I also made sure, through Jiji's Muffler Spell, which ensured that the smoke and flood alarms would not go off. And finally, I checked to see if Baku-Shan, who could walk through walls and move silently, was not inside the building that night. She wasn't, as only Zanba, with no natural attribute to darkness, was not permitted to take the night off, despite his high rank to ChaosHarken. And then, I suppose you all know the rest. The plan, as you know, was to use Yakatara's wind mixed with Azul's water to form a screen around the outside of the vent, forced up by Zhuqia's smoke mixed with Yakatara's gusts, and the powder, parcelled inside a durable stone from Aegis, would be able to make its way through the vent without any contact, either the stone or the powder, to end up forcing itself into ChaosHarken's quarters, splitting as soon as ChaosHarken noticed it, and Malmillenia would have become Aurelia once more. (Yes, I know that was a mouthful and an earful...) So, you all entered the building, seen by a Porcupine Sentient which is NOT good, followed coincidentally closely by Shadra in disguise. You managed to navigate through the building to our office, dispelling the plants and getting through the Dark Lock, once again followed by Shadra. Then I told the intended listeners our plan, still unaware that Shadra had indeed come in that night.”

“She decided to pretend nobody was there, as Aegis covered us with those revolting roots of slime, but what she didn't notice was that tripped over a stumblerope laid there by an extremely lazy night guard, the loud, unconcealed noise attracting Zanba, who then, obviously, found us. But I had felt sure Shadra had not realised that such trivial things as stumbleropes would be set up as security. You have all seen her quick wit and skill (here Shadra blushed), it was merely a lack of knowledge. So, of course, I had bargained on this. Once we were placed in the cell, I noticed it was spell-proof, as I knew, but Zanba had unwittingly not realised any of our identities except Jiji and I, of course. I knew Seraphi's....creative mind would figure out how to escape. I was not able to say anything about escaping as we had a Staff Speaker listening in on us until we left the building, so we felt no good would come of talking unless in an absolute emergency. But due to the poor...ummmm...quality of the cell, built with very porous limestone, we could easily escape. Thank you for being so imaginative for us, Seraphi. So then, we all flew up to the Transfield atop the building to escape to the Devildesert, which did prove to be a mistake.”

“Now, how did those servants not see us? Because we had distorted the field around the teleporter by Seraphi and Shadra's crystals reacting to a place both their parents have owned, or, I suppose in your case, Shadra, more a creator. I would never accuse Shadra of evil or malevolence, but the crystal you have, my dear, is made with a core of pure Luciferol, or Darkness. Seraphi, on the other hand, inherited her family's crystal, filled with pure Magnangemol, or Light. The two recognised their importance and place in the Transfield and its universal passageways, reacting even though they had not bonded, sending off a signal that effectively placed us out of this universe for a few seconds, meaning we could slip past. I had not counted on the Baku-Shan chasing us. But I did know what to say to the teleportation pad, from the Earth Mother's whispered words. And so we arrived in the Devildesert. Apparently this was the only perfectly Sentient-free place at the time, and so the only place without spies. I had not realised I had a Spell Tag on me. So Zanba tracked us down. And I also forgot completely that each post-solstice evening, the March of Ebony came out from its home to cleanse the desert sands, ridding it of anything that did not belong. It was only Aegis' hollow cactus which saved us, in the essential second.”

“The March of Ebony cannot cut a cactus, as it is written in their law. They suck the roots of the cacti in their underground state, and believe them to be God's sending, preventing them from completely killing any cactus. All they can do is wither it with poison. The reason only one Ebony Minion came back out after Aegis sneezed is because that cactus was its food plant, and it was the only one with a duty to guard it. The Ebony Minions also become powered by any substance that kills a cactus. It's a simple life support mechanism. But they were placed there originally by none other than ChaosHarken. Long, long before he became known. Spreading seeds of hindrance and chaos around the world, quietly and unnoticeably, in the shadows, creating things that seemed natural to most, so that places should crumble from within. That's what happened to us in Aurelia. This is just one of the things that people have to face now, every day. But those crystals, I feel sure they will have a crucial role at the end of our journey. We are heading for a place hidden deep within the Jinx Jungle, the Shining Glade. It is said by the Earth Mother herself a long time ago that: “When the darkness in one's heart combined with bright shine in a heart made from darkness, the door to victory will open...” And I believe this means Seraphi's flaws will bond with Shadra's unusual kindness for someone made of darkness. Of course, I am sure you others would like to properly meet your mother? And Jiji was sort of obliged to come...”

A chorus of “yes” came from the small group, with what sounded suspiciously like a “stupid hag” from Jiji.

“And that is my tale. We have only to reach the nearest town, collect a map to reach Jinx Jungle, get to the Gully of Vatonage, which is quite near the jungle edge, and unlock the door to the Earth Mother. And...Then our world should be okay for a while. So, who's in?”

Everybody, this time, uttered cries of “Yes!”

“That's great, dears! I hope that long-winded story helped you all to understand a little better about the situation we are in and how we are going to solve it, then. But for now, what we all need is rest.”

And nobody disagreed.

Shadra took a while to take in the scene. Rolling, curved thornwhips branched out from the more neglected corners of the town. The main road appeared to have been manually cleared of thorny flora, but she could see tiny sprouts permeating the loamy grey soil. Small gatherings of people and Sentients were bunched around the shop doors, discussing their matters with one another. She noticed that almost all the Sentients had wings, and the normal people seemed to have wing-like structures strapped to their backs. The sleepy Shadra and the rest of the group moved down the street without uttering a word. And as they drew nearer to the end of the street, Shadra saw...a soaring expanse of thorny paradise, beyond which she could see a sprawling jungle scape. The jungle was divided from the thorns by a faint purple wall of light: the Sector Subdivider. From what she remembered from her escape journey so many years ago, he Subdivider marked transitions into new sectors, so people knew what to expect and when. When inside a Sector, you could not see your own Subdivider. The Superdivider marked important general areas and showed country borders, but only appeared if someone required it. And the Speciodivider marked areas housing a secret, but only if someone was aware a secret existed there or knew something about it.

“Shadra, come and get a better look!”

It was Seraphi, calling over. Shadra shook her head. Was she standing still? Her exhausted figure found the energy to run over to the end of the road. They were staring down a sheer cliff, seemingly in thought.

“Hey, ummm, have you noticed most of the people 'round here have wings? Maybe that's how to get over to the jungle. But couldn't we just ride a cloud or a wind from Yakatara?”

“Sadly, no, we cannot use Yakatara's abilities in this sector. All air-based magic has been banned in this part of the Sector, following multiple accidents with the inhabitants involving cliffs, air blasts, and forests full of giant thorns.” explained Jiji patiently.

“Oh. But what about those wings? Couldn't we just go and get some of those?” yawned Shadra.

“That's the problem. The materials to make them have been stolen.”



“Baku-Shan! Come in, Baku-Shan! Do you read me?”

ChaosHarken spoke angrily and impatiently, a steely edge of determination in its voice.

“Yes, master??? What may I have the honour of doing for you this pleasant day???”

ChaosHarken momentarily flickered in fury, a small segment of its black body appearing at the corner of the room before rejoining to the full body mass, shadows in the room shifting crazily.


“First of all, you may stop being so polite!!! And second of all, lure those infernal do-gooders to the warehouse! Have you already stored the wing materials?”

The beautiful woman nodded her head, her legs vanishing to reveal a ghostly figure, a crimson bow wrapped around its waist with what looked looked faintly like a dress underneath. Ice crystals protruded from her head and large beguiling eyes peered out of their empty sockets.

“Tee-hee, I have, Master. And soon, the whole party will be in your hands!” giggled the small icy spirit.

“Meanwhile, I will go and hide near the Gully of Vatonage. I must say, your ability to become untraceable has certainly come in handy. Information can be very useful....now I will conquer this planet for good!”

The dark mass vanished, but a strong acid stench lingered behind.


“What do we do?” despaired Azul.

The group had been searching town for leads all day to find a safe way to get to Jinx Jungle, with no success. The wing materials were well hidden, and nobody was allowed to lend wings without a permit. Zhuqia had managed to procure a Jinx Jungle map and some insect repellent, but no matter where they searched, no answers were to be found. As they sat in a cafe sipping steaming thorn-berry tea wondering, Baba's knowledge reduced to guesswork at this stage and Jiji reduced to a grumbling heap, an amazingly beautiful woman strode into the building and approached the table.

“Lena Leggings, Town Investigator. Heard you were searching for the missing wing materials? Well, I've had a lead on 'em, and if you want, I can take you to them. Then it'll be easy for you to make some wings at the Wing Centre. So? Up for it? Tee-hee...”

The woman let out a small giggle and winked.

“Yes! Yes! We will! Most certainly!” said Jiji in a somewhat mechanised voice.

“Schmuck...”muttered Baba under her breath.

“I don't think we should....” replied a concerned Aegis, trying to draw attention away from Jiji's theatrics.

“Yes we will!” countered Jiji angrily.

“My gracious....” sighed Baba exasperatedly, resigned to her husband's behaviour.

But they decided to go anyway, thinking that perhaps they would be able to get going faster. Because if ChaosHarken got there first....

The lady called Lena led the party through a few small, thorn-choked streets towards what looked like a wall of thick unduk bushes.

“That's just a bunch of unduk plants, isn't it?” asked Yakatara curiously.

“I don't think so...” butted in Aegis before Lena could respond. “I think they're simply concealing a building. Unduk's pretty soft and easy to move, but it springs easily back into place if you move it. It's probably an abandoned building that has been choked by the unduk. Someone has probably used it to store all the wing materials.”

Lena grimaced.

“Well, yes, that's what I was going to say...tee-hee...”

“Can we go in??” queried Azul. “Is it safe??”

“Of course, dear! Here, let me open the door for you...hee...”

Lena stepped through the wall of what looked like thorny, tufted vines, but the thorns seemed to inflict little in the way of pain, as Lena stood inside the shroud of weeds for quite some time, fiddling with the lock. After a time, she drifted backwards a little to gesture them inside.

Drifted?

“In we go! Come on now! Tee-hee...”

“.....incessant giggling.......” grumbled Baba.

“Why! Thank! You! My! Fair! Lady! It! Is! So! Kind!” emphasised Jiji, striking each word with force.

“....scungefuddler....” fumed Baba in frustration.

Jiji bounded into the old building like a baby lamb on a farm. He was followed nervously by Zhuqia, Yakatara, Aegis and Baba. Seraphi pretended to fiddle with her hair, but in fact had planted a small orb of light inside the building frame, hidden by a stray strand of unduk that had decided to meander into the warehouse. Putting on a nervous face, Seraphi slowly padded into the building, and Shadra followed behind her, obviously feeling nervous too, as she surreptitiously stuck a small black triangle into what looked like the outer wall, but could have been a nursery, and then she too walked into the centre of the room, thorns forcing their way through every available crack.

“Oh, where is that other girl, then?” asked Lena in a somewhat forceful voice.

“Oh, sorry, I was just admiring the plants.” murmured Azul dreamily, emerging from the thick cover of weeds and batting her eyelashes.

“Oh, good, then!” smiled Lena very brightly. “Step inside!”

“Okay! Thanks, Ms. Lena! You have a lovely dress, by the way! Love the colour!”

Lena blushed, pushing the door closed behind her.

“I think those are the wing materials over there, Ms. Lena,” said Azul, pointing vaguely at a massive pile of down, feathers, glue, wood, thin fabric and leaf covering.

“Well, I was right! Shall we make some wings, then? Much more fun manually! I'll just spell-proof the room! Tee-hee...” smirked the woman claiming to be Lena, squirting a blue gas into the air. A grey coating stuck to the walls and the room darkened slightly.

“Wha....you fiend! I thought you liked me!” spluttered Jiji.

“How gross! Old men like you mean nothing to me, the ever-youthful, super-sneaky Baku-Shan....tee-hee...”

Lena seemed to be undergoing a transformation. Her legs sank into her body, the dress became smaller and a crimson bow tied itself around the waist. Her face became rounded, ice crystals sticking out her snow-white head. Large eyes that seemed to scan the room peered from empty dark sockets, glowing in the black holes like the eyes of a cat. Bejewelled arms of snow shot out of her strangely shaped ice figure, with three small fingers on the tips. And holes that showed nothing but darkness spread over her body, pieces of flesh disappearing before everybody's eyes. While she still looked beautiful, there was now an impish glint in her ghostly eyes.

“How did I guess?” yelled Shadra angrily. “Baba, how could you be taken in?”

“I wasn't. I wanted to set the Baku-Shan's spirit free so she can become normal again, a normal Yaku-Ban frostghost sprite once more.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” asked Zhuqia angrily.

“Because we couldn't have her know we knew who she was!”

“Not your most convincing act, was it?” asked Jiji.

Nobody spoke, but everyone stared at him. The Baku-Shan broke the silence.

“I counted on you to drag me here, you lovesick old hound! I knew some of you would notice who I was! Though it seems that Aegis, Yakatara, Zhuqia and Azul did not. The four youngest. I checked their minds, they hadn't a clue. How tragic to send them to ChaosHarken right now. Shadra, want to be reunited with your Papa? Or is it Mama? I could never tell under that writhing shroud of darkness. What is that revolting-smelling thing “under the hood”, so to speak. I may be indebted and tied to the ChaosHarken, but I will say this: it is not what it looks like. Nobody knows what lies within, and only a misshapen purple face protrudes from his cover......tee-hee...... So I couldn't tell you who it really is. And since it wiped your memory of it, you will never know who it is. But enough of this talking! Some action would be better, I think. Make-up? No? Then how about this? A little bit of frame-freezing might help immobilise you. Then I can easily send you to the boss with me. Unlike Zanba, my ways of doing things rely on me, and me alone....tee-hee...hee...heeee....”

Azul's face showed a vacant expression. What was wrong with her? Seraphi was concentrating on the small yellow orb she had planted. Spell-proofing did not erase spells and magic already there.

“By the way, I am free to use magic, wherever I may be... Upside of being a spirit, I guess. Now for your makeovers....tee-hee.....”

Her oddly haunting voice clashed with her speech style a lot, observed Azul. But it didn't seem to be the only thing. While being a spirit, she looked to assume physical form normally. So if surprised, she could be attacked. Obviously, as they could not move their arms or legs from her spirit-bind, Azul could not cast proper magic, and the room was spell-proof anyway. Instead, she focused her mind to become blocked, imprinting a false thought of shoes and lollipops into her mind. Azul was a highly accomplished Neurostal, and able to resist mind-reading and perception of thoughts. Not the ditz Baku-Shan took her for.

“I'm freezing your frames....now!”

The icy blast instantly trapped Jiji and, surprisingly, Baba too. Shadra's clothes seemed to be ice-proof, but when a shadow was cast over her, she did not even blink in response...or was not blinking...Aegis appeared unharmed, but the powdered snow snap-froze him into a block of ice a moment after. Zhuqia's body heat was repeatedly thawing the ice, but as he could not use arms, legs, or spells, he was totally susceptible to shadow binding. Seraphi froze over thinly, but not before an unnoticed yellow orb exploded in the air, burning all the gas in the room. The spell-proof gas gone, Seraphi instantly broke her icy prison and very quickly focused an orb of light into the face of the stunned Baku-Shan. Shadra appeared to have had her shadow bind removed by the shadow she had been “held” in, and quickly ran to the door, picking up the small black item she had previously dropped. Pressing a button, she hastily ran back to her shadow “prison” and leapt in, narrowly missed by a small dark blob from Baku-Shan. The others were still unable to act, all except Azul. Inside a block of ice, she focused her mind extremely hard, her brain bursting at the folds, and sent a massive deluge of water at the Baku-Shan, shattering the ice explosively as it went.

“That water had sea lice in it, by the way...Oh right, <tee-hee>.”

Azul sounded triumphant.

The Baku-Shan smiled and vanished into thin air. But the sea lice somehow remained on her body, perhaps converted to spirit form as well. Azul told Seraphi to throw an orb straight after she threw some water.

“On cue...one, two, three!”

Azul sent the water flying. The Baku-Shan, in spirit form, simply ignored it, but changed back into a more tangible form, and could not evade the following orb of light.

“You won't get me that easily!” cried the Baku-Shan, getting out her spell-proofing gas. But it simply got blasted by another sphere of light from Seraphi and exploded in her hand.

“Oh no...tee-hee...” cried Baku-Shan. “Make for the walls!”

They could all see the piles of oceanic lice drop off her body as she entered the wall, a ball of ice flying from a brick to strike them, which nearly met its targets. Shadra hastily cracked open the others prisons, except for Zhuqia's, detroyed by a small light ray of Seraphi's.

“Now, destroy the walls! Brute tactics!” yelled Azul angrily.

“She won't have left! She has to take us with her, you know!”

Everyone threw their specific magics at different parts of the walls, which bent and busted in some places.

“Sturdy place.” someone mumbled.

Suddenly, one wall brittled and froze. A moment later, a massive wave of ice exploded through the room, freezing up even Zhuqia, whose heat merely made a patch of air inside the giant block. Baku-Shan floated through the wall to meet them.

“Well, I suppose you can't get out now....tee-hee....no ordinary ice at all. Now, where is it? Oh, here it is! My Transportation Crystal. As she held it up to the light, a sense of despair coursed through Azul's frozen veins.

Always the quiet one, standing on the sidelines, was it the best for me? I just ruin things, never connect and bring things together, no matter how calm I am....

Azul figured out what had to happen. The crystals of Seraphi and Shadra's needed to connect!

Come on, mind! Make some hot water for me! Now!

A little hiss issued from the giant ice cube as a few droplets of boiling water made contact with the numbing ice. Azul saw Baku-Shan tap her crystal, and then everything went black.

When Aegis awoke, he noticed that everyone was still in a giant, unmelting cube of ice. But they were no longer inside the Thornforest Sector. He could see trees and vines in the distance, blurred through the ice he was encased in, and trickles of water distorted his vision as the ice slowly melted around him.

Melting?

A stream of hot water poured into Aegis' air bubble, but cooled down as soon as it came through. More and more hot water appeared to be making a tunnel, and then he saw Azul crawl through.

“We have to get out of here now! Baku-Shan is going to take us to ChaosHarken if we don't hurry! But we are really close to the Gully of Vatonage, because that map we all read earlier shows the Gully of Vatonage is right next to the Chamber of Citrus, where we are now. I've been rearranging the water molecules in the ice, but this enchanted ice-cube is a tough one to crack! Can I get you to help? I know there's no soil or rock in here, but if you focus, you could probably crack the cube from outside. I'll send hot water through as well, to speed it up. Please? Just concentrate hard. I'll give you a clear view with my Water Window.”

Azul made a sheet of light appear between her fingers.

“Go on!”

Aegis could suddenly see a bricked hallway styled with ancient material outside the ice-cube. He concentrated extremely hard on a jagged piece of the ceiling. Sweat beads trickled down his forehead as he expended his energy in an attempt to force his control through the ice. Without warning, a small chip fell off the ceiling ornament, and the whole thing went plummeting towards the ground.


Just before the ornamental piece hit the ground, it curved straight back up in an arch, its jagged edge piercing the durable giant ice-cube and sending fissures through the exterior. Azul could see Zhuqia with a fist in the air through the hazy ice, slowly melting his way through. Another smash drove the brick piece further into the ice, creating more fissures and enlarging ones that were already there. A third push, sent a huge hunk of ice crashing to the ground, freeing Zhuqia, who tumbled out and immediately began torching the fissures with fire.

“Quick! They'll have heard!”

Aegis broke a chunk of wall off with sheer determination, still looking through the Water Window, willing it it to strike the ice. And it did. With a resounding crash, massive blocks of ice cracked apart and crashed into the ground with deafening crunches. Aegis jumped out of his ice fragment with Azul as the small hole caved in behind them. Yakatara came spinning over, with Baba, Jiji, Shadra and Seraphi following behind.

“Quick! We have to get out now! Baku-Shan and ChaosHarken will have heard us by now! Quick!” shrilled Azul urgently.

“The Gully of Vatonage is just ten minutes south. We must make haste and unlock the door that will restore this world to health! All of you play an important role. The four element children, Seraphi, the heir, Shadra the malcreated dark slave made by ChaosHarken itself, I, the one who raised and guided you, and Jiji, who, uh........is a devout husband and loves me very much!” spoke Baba.

And they all raced off, hearts a-pounding

“Baku-Shan!”

“Um...yes, Master...tee-hee...”

“They've escaped! Explain how!”

“I don't know....my incompetence...tee-hee....my beauty exploded the ice cube?”

“DO NOT BE IMPERTINENT WITH ME!”

“Sorry, Master....hee....”

“Now, we shall both go, on foot, after those pets. They are so close.....This journey is over for them, or us. At least you have a previous form to revert to if you get killed. NOW, HURRY! It has been too long since I met the old woman, the angel girl, the Element Children, the pesky old wart and...I finally see how my daughter is growing...But if those crystals are not reclaimed immediately, we have failed...”

Baku-Shan glimpsed a flicker of sadness and resignation flicker over ChaosHarken's ugly, antennaed face. Just the shadows?

They hurried after the others as quickly as they dared.

A short while after escaping certain doom, the octet of adventurers arrived in front of a blank and shiny cliff with a white line running through the middle. Six symbols were engraved on the door: an ember, a rock with a blade of grass, a gust symbol with a thundercloud, a drop of water, a halo with a crystal and....Baba did not ever know this......a heart silhouette with a devil's fork behind it, and another crystal. If they had not met Shadra, the ChaosHarken would have perished, but because they had, they had come all the way here...but perhaps Shadra would have been sure to appear anyway....Baba tried to think straight. Zhuqia, Azul, Aegis and Yakatara were each streaming flames, water jets, pebble volleys and streams of wind respectively at each of the four symbols they interpreted to be their own. All four lit up at once, the brilliant shine playing across the trees. ChaosHarken could not be far away now....but how to react the crystals.....Seraphi and Shadra had been pressed close together on that small cloud to the Transfield, and they had frozen the guards...on the small cloud over the desert, the cloud had mysteriously sped up, even without Yakatara's assistance. Maybe it was.....their hearts! When their hearts were touched together, the crystals reacted to the impurities in each of their opposites …

“Shadra, Seraphi, to open this door, you need to....touch hearts! Hug each other! Now! And hold it! It's the key to the Shining Glade!”

Shadra and Seraphi gasped, but did as they were told. As the rest of them watched in astonishment, small sparkles of light and dark began to radiate from their middles, where the crystals were hidden. As they watched, the sparkles became a shine, then a glow, and then, the whole gully exploded with rays of darkness and holiness which seemed to combine to form a brilliant purple colour which engulfed the entire area. And then, they heard the doors creak open.

As Seraphi and Shadra released their embrace, they noticed the whole gully sparkled with something whole and complete. Something whole and pure. Rushing after the others, they emerged onto a large dais with a single sentence engraved on it: Here needs to be someone with a purest heart.

“None of us have pure hearts, do we? We were told by Baba at the campfire.” said a confused and still slightly dazed Zhuqia.

“But Zhuqia and Seraphi are like ying-yang, balancing out each other's flaws. Right?”

“There is room for one on that central Circle, not two.”

“Then how...”

A large writhing mass of dark power appeared from the gateway.

The large twisting, squirming black body that seemed to engulf the ChaosHarken was terrible to behold, being pure darkness itself. A small antennaed purple face was moving near the centre of the behemoth figure.

“I am the ChaosHarken, supreme ruler of Malmillenia and leader of the Dark Descent. Bow before me or pay the price. NOW!”

Everyone did, forced down by an invisible power.

“I have chased you since I heard of your identities from that idiot Zanba. Now freed, I have one less servant and no supreme warrior. Because of you! You eluded the Ebony March, not to mention escaped from my prison! You destroyed my converted horse warrior. You tramped through a thorn forest. Nearly escaped Baku-Shan, and then since transported here, managed to succeed! BUT IN THE PAST! You Element Children, Earth Mother's only hope, to keep her alive in hiding! Seraphi, the rightful contender for throne if your mother dies! Which she refuses to DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Screwing up my life since you entered Shadra's! At the orphanage, when you began visiting my already imperfect creation's new home and permeating her room with kindness, despite the fact she hid from you! And you, Baba, caring for each and every one of them, raising and TEACHING THEM??? Secretly speaking with the Earth Mother, who directed your very fate! And Shadra, who I created to become my heir should I be killed as I NEVER die! You became tainted with happiness as a baby, and grew with a spark of hope inside you. Disliking me, running from me, and then absorbing the kindness of others! But I followed you all that time, unable to hurt you, instead having to plan the whole world carefully, for fear of being recognised. Hundreds of years ago, I was never wanted. It tore my heart. And now, I still have NEVER BEEN WANTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW I WILL KILL YOU ALL AND DESTROY THE EARTH MOTHER'S HAVEN!”

And then something clicked in the face of ChaosHarken that made Shadra simply say:

“Stinkbug!”

ChaosHarken's eyes widened. His darkness writhed all around him (for it was now definitely confirmed as to who it was) and slowly vanished, each time sending stabbing pain through his body. Slowly, the darkness dissipated, and when it was all gone, they stood over the small, bright purple body of a Stinkbug Sentient from Baja's orphanage.

“Stinky?”

“What? Where am I? Shadra? Is that you? Oh, I feel so sore...I will surely die soon....but wait...I will briefly explain to you of this sudden event...”

“Stinkbug Sentients never grow old. They die only through injury, murder, sickness, and similar complaints. I have been alive hundreds of years. Growing up, I was pushed from my own home. Nobody wanted me. So I brooded, tainting my untouched heart, and wished for the ability to not care about others. It was granted, and a small tuft of darkness clumped on my heart and body. As time went by, it spread, and I became bitter and twisted, unable to control myself. My heart was almost fully evil. Before I lost all conscious thought, I wanted to create something that would want me. But nobody ever wanted me...She felt the happiness in the air when she went outside, and the kindness from the winds that blew pollen of flowers into her little nose. She eventually became so distraught with repression she ran away with nothing but a plush doll, a treasured crystal I picked up the same day I met darkness, and a ninja bag she found at a dump. The next day I woke up, I could not control the darkness, losing all control. All I remember is storing it inside and chasing her to Baja's orphanage, pretending to be a normal Stinkbug. Once there, my darkness plotted a way to take total control. Nobody could not want me if I ruled them, I thought. I vanished every night to wherever my darkness took me, sowing seeds of evil and destruction. This...went on for years, until I became confident enough in my corrupt shell to launch the Dark Descent. Start with the most significant building in the world. I tried to kill Seraphi's mother, but her holiness levels prevented it. I could not even get close. My servants put her in a torture chamber and left it at that. But I only became like that because my heart was pure and weak. Humans have strong hearts to absorb the flaws they find in the world. But I had no will or strength, and so that one very bitter feeling overtook me. But now I know...someone wanted me, after all. You, Shadra. Seraphi and Shadra, your complete opposites have made this world a better place. I will die soon. Baku-Shan's pure form will be found unconscious outside this temple. But before I perish and remove the curse from my followers and the world, I think my pure heart needs to be placed in the center ring first. Thankyou, everyone. You have spared the world a horrid fate through the power of the heart and brain. Remember what vatonage means: for darkness inside a heart to be reawakened. No heart should ever be perfect, but you must always, always guard it, or you, too may end up like me. Goodbye, and thankyou.”

Crying horribly and happily, Shadra and Seraphi carried Stinky onto the centre circle. And with a small twitch, he died.

The walls split apart to radiate a pure purple light the same as Seraphi and Shadra's combined hearts had produced. And then a large female figure drifted out.

“Good afternoon,” said the Earth Mother. “You have all been so brave and faithful, and so strong to get here. And my darlings have been cared for well, I see. Thankyou for that too. But first, come and have a drink. We have an awful lot of fixing up to do tomorrow.”

And they walked along the room, to a new beginning.
 
just sayin that my short story for english got a 100

this thread needs more cc

ill probably go through the last 3 or so pages and do some somethime
 
im a high school junior that goes to a public school, so it not that hard but thanks anyways

my teacher suggested i take a creative writing course next year, but im doing art independant studiesssssss
fuck schedules
 
Next Person, Please.

Next person, please.

Name? Miranda...Harper...all right, Mrs. Harper, citizen serial number KD-0305. And you're appealing for? A couple your relations've been drafted for the Voluntary Euthanisation act, I see, and from the records it's quite plain that your son's been sent into the army-

Ah, your husband. I see. Yes. Mr. Harper born 2034 - a postwar boomer, huh? Never see much of them nowadays - born 2034, drafted into VE about...couple days ago. Mhm. So, reason for appeal?

Fought on the Mid East front in '56? Ayup, it was a valiant cause, I myself lost an uncle to the Tehran nuke. Poor man.

So about Mr. Harper. Your husband. Yes. Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, not much I can do about it. Yes, veterans get off voluntary euthy. No, Mid East '56 didn't count. Really sorry about that, ma'am.

Yes, yes. I know. Your son's in good hands. But I really can't revoke that. Orders from higher-up, see. So sorry, I can't do much about it. There, there. Here, take my hankerchief.

No, no, not in here. Please. Your husband is doing a great duty to the country and the Party, see? All this overcrowding is going to ruin the entire state of things, any government Malthusian scientist can tell you that. Yeah, some might say it's a tad harsh, but I assure you Mrs. Harper-

No, no, it'll be okay. (Security to room 12-B, we've got a clinger.) Look, you'll get compensation for this, I promise. Does your husband work in the Party? Might have been a bureaucratic oversight...no? Ah well, too bad then. Really sorry, but I'll have to deny the appeal. Yeah, real sorry.

(Kristof? Ah, just in time, my man.) Could you please escort nice Mrs. Harper to the lobby? And pass this form back to admin when you're done, okay? Thanks. Good man.

Oh, I'm no monster, Mrs. Harper. Just doing my job, see.

Next person, please.

Just wrote it for the heck of it, and it turned out way better than I expected.
 
wrote last night
Section One
I was biking to the park on my rusty green bicycle I had gotten to bike to work when I was fifteen. Listening to the spokes of the wheel clack against what was left of the plastic ends of my shoelaces I remembered. D how pissed off I was back then. Pissed off at my age, my parents, and the world. I seethed at the lack of respect I got just because I was a year too young to drive. I was pissed my parents wouldn’t let me get my nose pierced or my ears gauged, although now I’m relieved they didn’t. But mostly I was pissed off at the world. I was growing up in a lost generation of kids, choking down so many kinds of chemicals I couldn’t feel any emotion at all, let alone any of depression, anxiety, hyperactivity, or boredom. Locked in a country I didn’t believe in, and the country itself was trapped in between two wars. Two wars with a faceless enemy. One that may be the man next door with the shifty, slate- gray eyes, Perhaps the older woman who shops at the grocer you where you work.
Exhilarated by the feeling of my short, boyish hair being pushed back by the wind, tousling it as if it was that one distant relative everyone has, The one who expects you to remember him, regardless if he last visited you when you were still crawling around and could barley construct a legible word. I check once again if my messenger bag containing my days work was firmly secure. It was good to be home, in my stomping ground. I knew these cracked sidewalks I walked so carefully when I was a child, negotiating my feet as to ensure the integrity of my mothers back. I knew the dip up ahead, the pothole I swerved around a mile back, and the hill I was always afraid of descending as a child, I laughed remembering how terrified I was when I was rolling down that hill the first time. Caterwauling so loudly I must have garnered attention from everyone in the neighborhood, just to find that the sensation it gave me behind my navel was quite pleasing, I doggedly tramped up the incline again, stopping at the top. Needing to rest my asthmatic lungs for a while before repeating the process, although this time shouting with glee, rather than distress. I remember the time when I was seventeen, severely intoxicated, and tried to replicate the results I got when I was a child. That was a fiasco. I got severe speed wobbles halfway down, swerving wildly three-quarters of the way down, and sliding down the last fourth, breaking my collarbone and spraining a wrist. My parents were furious; it was the first time they found out about my drinking. If only they knew to which heights my infatuation with psychoactives had grown since leaving home, and attending college.
Entering the college wide eyed, and afraid, I quickly established a close friendship with the beatniks. My portfolio of drugs I had tried had expanded considerably from its humble beginnings of cannabis, alcohol, and tobacco. It now included Molly, Ritalin, Psilocybin, and even DMT once, (although I’m not sure if that counts because I coughed it all up like a green little pussy.) As I rolled onto the grassy lawn of the park and unwound the chain from underneath the seat of my trusty bicycle I felt a hand clap my shoulder. Startled, I turned around, not knowing what to expect, but feeling relief when I saw it was only my pal from high school, Geoff.
“How you doing you little fucker?”
“Fuck you for scaring me like that, you asshole” I replied

Geoff was around five foot nine with a slight build. He was a joker, always getting into trouble, but was sharp as a tack, if lazy. This had come to be his enemy when looking for colleges that would accept him. Even with an impressive portfolio, Geoff only got accepted to the community college, where he studied visual arts in a dirty, (as are most) art room. I spent my eighteenth birthday posing for him to do draw. I still had the yellowing pages from his sketchbook, still caked with the dross of his charcoal, outlining the figure of my slight body, the lines of my sides, and the points of my small, hard, breasts. Geoff was a great artist, and was quite attractive, although he appeared to be asexual, even through his adolescence. He had offended quite a few of the local queen bees by his short, curt replies to their flirtatious communications, and, although he had taken a few on dates, he had spurned all attempts of the females to have a physical relationship with him. He had been known to cause quite a commotion at parties and was an absolute riot when stoned, which was most of the time. Geoff was also quite an asshole. His wispy auburn hair was never tamed, and he was a pain in the ass my modern standards to get in touch with. The only form of communication he had was a landline in his room, simply for the reason that he didn’t want a two hundred dollar brick in his pocket all the time. He had even been given a cell phone by one of his friends once, but he threw it down a sewer grate, much to the dismay of his friend. He said he didn’t want to pay money for something he had at home anyway. Geoff was one of those indie fuckers, almost a hipster, but not quite.
As we walked slowly to the willow tree by the pond, our usual lurk, I noticed that he carefully planted his hemp clothed feet, slowly and in purpose. This was how Geoff was, his eccentricities generally accepted, if with some resistance, by adults. When we sat down, I took out my laptop as he reached into his many voluminous jacket pockets and took out a small folio and a pen and started to sketch ducks swimming along the glasslike surface of the water.
As I relayed my experiences of college to him he took out a thin, tightly rolled cigarette and peered around the park before lighting it. He took a deep drag, and the pungent scent of cannabis hit me. We passed the joint between us, until it burned my finger, and than lit another. Spending time with him I realized how much I missed his company, catching myself wishing he was not so restrained in his sexuality. He finished his sketch and to me, reached down and tweaked one of my sensitive, semi-erect nipples, the cool spring air had lifted, he got up and walked away. I wasn’t too bothered by it, as it wasn’t uncommon for him to do things like that. I tried futilely to finish a paper that was due when I got back to school, but my wandering thoughts always came back to him. I realized this as I caught myself typing ‘Geoff’ and decided it was futile to make any headway. I resolved to go out and find him.

Section Two
I kicked off my beat up pair of green converse, and stomped off to my room, fatigued from my fruitless search, and cranked up the heat in my room and played a Smiths record, thinking of him, of me, and of what I was doing here. I realized I was still stoned, and dismissed all of these thoughts as bullshit, the inane ramblings of my altered subconscious. My mum knocked on my door and asked if I was coming down for dinner. I told her I didn’t have much of an appetite and would grab a bite to eat later. She agreed and went back downstairs. As I wracked my brain as to why I was so perturbed over the seemingly random encounter with Geoff, I didn’t even notice that the Smiths album had ended. I woke from my dazed, half stupor, and heard my mother and father arguing at the dinner table. My mother shouting that she was sure that she smelled pot up in my room, and was sure I was high. My father was arguing that if they learned anything for going to the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings with me, it was that trust is paramount to a healthy relationship, and that they had to trust me. He said that false accusations would only help shatter my already strained mental health. I heard a faint buzz from my bag, and felt a slight tremor course through the frame of my bed. I took out my phone and noticed that I had gotten a call from Geoff’s solitary phone in his room a few hours ago. Also, I had received a text message from my friend, Mindy I opened the message, a pit forming in the bottom of my stomach, the fine hairs on the nape of my neck standing at attention. All remnants of a buzz I still had from the marijuana left me as I read the words the message contained.
Melissa. Geoff just killed himself. Call me when you get this.

Trembling I felt my knees give out and buckle under me. I landed heavily on my mattress and, with my trembling hands I threw my phone across the room, if I had ever had any concerns of the sound it made when it landed of the floor after bouncing off the windowsill, they never reached my brain. As I shouted to my parents that I had to go to Mindy’s I was racing down the stairs, sliding in my socks, I took them two at a time, having known them for all my life, seven to the landing, two stairs to the right, and seven more to the ground floor. Pulling on my dirty Chuck Taylors, leaving the thin laces untied I raced out the door, before my bewildered parents could even form a protest on their tongues.

“What happened next?” I heard, Shocked by the sound of a voice other than my own after talking for this hour, I struggled to keep the shakiness out of my voice I continued.

I hopped on my bike, pedaling until my lungs were on fire, and felt as if they would burst out of my ragged throat at any moment. I skidded into Mindy’s driveway, and throwing my bike on her manicured lawn, raced up the three stairs to her house. Not bothering to knock I opened the door and barged in. Mindy’s mother looked up and said quietly that Mindy was in her room. I scrambled up Mindy's stairs and thrust open the door to her room, and found her lying on her bed, bent double, two thin lines of mascara painting her temples. I walked over to her and roughly pulled her up. We agreed to go to his house. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the passengers’ seat, screaming at Mindy to drive. When I was in sight of his small, red-sided house, tears had sprung unbidden into my eyes and perched on my eyelids, threatening to fall at any moment. We pulled into the driveway, his parents’ car nowhere to be found.
As we walked up the driveway, Geoff’s neighbor opened the door, and told us that Geoff was in the hospital, with his parents, although he was dead when they left. We bullied out way inside and walked into our room sternly shoving the lone guardian of the house aside, his protests falling on ears blocked with emotion. We entered his room and noticed the extension cord tied to the post of one of his bunked beds. We leaned on the doorjamb, in shock. I noticed a folded note of yellow lawyers’ paper on his desk. I opened the well-thumbed note. It read


Sometimes real eyes cannot realize
What is happening in the real life
And one needs
To cast a shadow over the issue
In order to see what it is
That’s hidden by the light
There’s a fog coming
Rolling in from the sea
One that can
Cover me.

“So I suppose that’s why I'm here.” I mumble, peering up I see the man’s kindly face. I glance down at my folded hands, but stop when I notice the dark masses marring the otherwise plain surface of the man’s notepad. Peering over the binding of his pad I see them clearly. Doodles of many things, small microcosms came to life on the fibers of the paper.

“fuck you.” I say and walk out of the office haughtily, dropping my co-pay, a balled up ten-dollar bill in the doorway. I guess that’s what’s wrong with me. On the slow drive home on winding roads, through small, hilly, towns. I thought. I don’t know if the therapy had worked or not, but I felt a little better, having that lump that had settled in my stomach that day, three years ago, wretched out onto the floor of that assholes office. I hope it finds a new home in him.

i had no clue what was going to happen up until i took a break yesterday and finished it today.

so forgive it if its shitty
 
Wow, I've never posted here?

Anyway, I suppose I'd better post something, anyway. This is an extract from a novel I was writing. It was for a school competition based on the word 'Fashion', but I ended up writing... slightly more than was expected. This isn't the best-written bit of it, and to be quite honest for the entirety of the time I was writing it I was in a coma, just scribbling away nothing in particular. Enjoy.

There is little to be said for the days that followed, but that Hereward continued to ponder over that which he had long pondered. Joy and strife alike were foreign to him, and by his creed constancy was his watchword. And yet still he was human, and had not passed to that stage beyond where emotion is too complex to be imaginable, nor to the primordial state where emotion and instinct were one, whatever he himself imagined. He was desirous of something more, if not to embrace the ways of his peers then at least to understand them. Even more fundamental to him than his distaste for inconsistency was his distaste for ignorance, and if his want of knowledge did not appeal to him then certainly his reluctance to ignore what was before him did.

And certainly I am not ignorant, he would assert to himself. I maintain an understanding of them that far exceeds their own. Or do I? And still I am cynical. I must be, if I am to see that which those so much more accustomed to these flavours cannot. Poor children… what can I think of them? They follow their paths… their own paths… the paths are identical… but the people are not. Somehow… I am sure of that. That much I know. They are too… competitive… to be identical.

Hereward was certainly not a stranger to his friends and their ways, despite his isolation. He had watched them for two and a half years, every three weeks or so claiming that he had discovered everything about them that there was to know. And yet still they were ever changing, never remaining still. Their habits and mannerisms never seemed different until one considered their first impressions. Take Gareth, for example. He had been a portly boy of thirteen upon first meeting, greatly critical of those that performed, as he called them, ‘indignities’ and upset the wellbeing of the common room. Now the first impression one received of him was simply as another of Vincent’s hangers-on. Each once had their own mannerisms and traits, swallowed in a toxic cocktail of conformity, disillusionment and testosterone. I see them as shallow, but what if who they once were lurks just below the surface? Perhaps there is fifteen years’ worth of depth to them after all, rather than the featureless, standardised façade of misguided social desire that they wish others to take them for.

Certainly Hereward was not the social virgin he professed to be. His curiosity aroused that much. He would speak a great deal, though rarely unless spoken to, and relapse into a comatose state of narrow-eyed glaring that seemed incomprehensible to those around him. This was when Hereward found himself in greatest danger, that he might reveal himself to others around him. He would speak and then be silent, professing to watch and be watched but finding the allure of a clever comment oft-irresistible. Then he would retreat to his shell, reinforcing his mind with powerful absence, a vacuum that protected from the incoherent chatter around him. And as such he never quite knew what the result of his comment was, nor how the conversation died.

A most general assessment of the situation, therefore, would be that Hereward had decided to take a more direct interest in proceedings as they unfolded. This would, of course, be most unfair and untrue. He had, as previously mentioned, always been observing his companions closely, smiling and shaking his head when his prophesied conclusion came to pass, and some disastrous occurrence had fallen upon some poor wretch’s head. Equally, he had been most puzzled when nothing like his fabled wounds in society had happened, and indeed the whole affair having been sorted in private, no man nor woman any the worse for it.

Furthermore, while he was content to sit and sigh at the many foolhardy exploits of his peers, the world as it so often is was not content to let him do so. Called upon to speak in his lessons or provide some service to a fellow soul in need, his duties were discharged with promptly. But further from that, a most cruel world had a habit of dropping him into the black threads of the social web at the least convenient times, causing him to liaise with his peers on behalf of some function that required attention, ordering quiet in the common room, or else muttering half-formed complaints about the decorations put up for the latest communal event. Indeed he was not quite so detached and absent as he believed himself to be, and so very few people on the outside saw him even as any more than the loner he set his standard by.

Do not let us intimate that he was in any way deluded or living a lie, however. If his social detachment conformed not to his ideals, then his mental detachment certainly did, and he was of no illusions regarding that which was his and his alone. He wore and ate what he was given, and detested the necessity of choice. Neither did he drink alcohol or smoke tobacco, and resented the application of peer pressure. More than anything else, he saw in people’s innocent activities their higher applications.

I didn't want to post too much, so forgive me for that.
 
I can't believe I haven't seen this thread before. Pretty much wrote this because I don't like James Patterson's maximum ride. The first 3 were good, but the rest...
Anyone else read his stuff? I tried to fix the grammer and spelling the best I could. However, my best is not good. Kiara and Kiera are the same person. When I had written the story Kiara had been the inital name and I decided to change it to Kiera so if you see Kiara, I'll just change it later. Also bugmanicbob, really jealous that you can write so well when your tired.

Anyways:

Underline- fix later or unsure

Better Than What James Patterson's Been Writing for Maximum Ride Story

Unbelievably, after the 500th time it was written that scientists are all evil and can't control Max, I got the message the very FIRST time. Sad.

Ch.1: Arms of the Angel:

She sat with her back to a fleece pillow on her window seat, with her arms wrapped around her knees. Gently held in one hand was a brown button-nosed teddy bear. In the other a hand-made bracelet with the name Cara encrypted neatly in the side. While the teddy bear was old, it remained in good condition, although a few pieces of wool poked out at e the seams and stains speckled its fur. The bracelet, while not being of fine quality, held sentimental value and was clutched tightly in hand. Her room was meticulously organized with the bed in the corner with covers folded neatly over top. The room was painted a sky blue hue, with wisps of smoky clouds drifting across the ceiling in an uninterrupted pattern. Aside from a cherry drawer and chair situated besides her bed, her room consisted of a rocking chair precisely in the center of the room with blocks spelling her name stacked neatly next to it. Her room, unlike most others, was deficient of the accumulation of dust that normally coated the surface of furniture. No, the only thing out of place was the pile of clothing she heaped on a chair in an unorganized fashion.

The girl gazed down at the neighbors backyard letting her long black hair, cascade over the side of her face, almost hiding her eye. She observed with downcast eyes as a blonde girl of similar age and stature weaved through the miniature playground which had been set up in the adjacent backyard. Her blonde hair streamed out behind her wildly, while chasing a small boy that resembled her in almost every aspect. Each had flaxen golden-toned hair that complimented their fair skin. Their minuite, slight frames supported a carefree, almost elven like creature. Although they looked similar, they could never be each other's quintessence. For when one leaped, the other loped. They mirrored each other in imperfect perfection.

The girl's delicate fingers stretched outward to brush his back. He, realizing that he had been tagged, twisted his waist and grazed her retreating hand with his own. Instead, of tagging her, his fingers were tangled in her hair, and they tumbled to the ground in a fit of laughter. With a sigh, Keria slid the bracelet around her wrist and unwrapped her arms from her knees. Holding the bear to her nose she inhaled the comforting sent of lavender (the same subtle aroma the house smelled of), as a tear trickled down the side of her check.

Upon hearing footsteps ascending the stairs, she reached behind the pillow and grabbed Green Eggs and Ham, wiped the tear with her palm, straightened her flowery, yellow, dress, and pretended to be immersed into the fourth page. A woman with identical, pin-straight hair, angular check bones, and bright blue eyes, strode in with a empty basket and exasperated face. She gestured to the chair piled with clothing, exclaiming, "Kiera, please show me what clothes are dirty. You just put them on the chair after you use them while there is a basket in the hallway. You know I can't tell the difference between the dirty and clean." Kiera looked up from her book and replied with pouting blue eyes, "But Mama, the basket is far away. You should just put it in my room so I don't have to carry the clothes far."
"Keira," her mother warned raising her eyebrows.
"Fine."

As Keira laid the book down on the window seat in resignation while her mother voiced her concern. "Keira, I've seen you reading that book for months and you only seem to be reading it slowly. Unless you like to read a book for 2 months and it doesn't grow old." Then her mother noticed the children playing in the other yard. Cutting her daughter off before she could answer, her mother gently stated, "So the real reason you've been moping is because you can't play with your friend." Looking past her daughter she added, "Only until the doctor says you are fine can you go back to school and play with your friends."

"I know," Keira stared at the ground downcast. "I just have two question mama. Why does my back hurt sometimes?" Keira inquired.

"Oh, it will be fine. It's nothing." her mother said absentmindly. "Come on, pick up the laundry and lets get us some ice cream." Keira beamed up at her mom and added, "Ok, but you have to promise we get to play dress up afterwards."
Her mother smiling at her daughter's enthusiasm, replying "I promise. Next question?"

Keira hesitated, not knowing how to broach the topic. "Is dad not coming home from the war?"
The corner of her mother's mouth grimaced in a subdued sorrow that was scarely discernable.

She walked over to Keira and lifted her with ease, while proceeding to place her on her lap. Her mother gazed out the window, unsure of how to respond. With a sense of detachment her mother raised a hand out the window. Keira tilted her head in the direction of her mother's finger. Where the clouds grazed the sun's final beams, illuminating silky white to radiant ornage, two birds lethargically ascended, spiraling on thermal updrafts. Their speckled wings effortlessly outstretched to catch the wind, their feathers tilted to the left simultaneously banking. Feathers lightly brushing one another, they weaved in between each other, all the while, sunlight dappled their wings white.

Breaking out of the thermal to experience the sheer joy of flight, each mimicked the other’s movements with precision, creating an aerial dance. Both sought to out do the other, yet never faltered in flight. Maneuvers became increasingly intricate. Now sweeping their wings simultaneously to volt backwards, they plunged towards the earth, momentum making them indistinct silhouettes against the pallor of the blue sky. Wings lodged behind their backs and heads dipped towards the ground, the gap between themselves and the earth vanished at an alarming rate. Within a several yards of the tree tops, their wings snapped open to catch the air, elevating them once again, far above the bustling life below.

In a few moments, they were accelerating towards the looming horizon, accompanied, no hastened, by the wind to become faint flecks in the sky. Their wings moved in unison, propelling them forward with each down thrust. Only being seen in the distance, they gradually faded into oblivion. The only mark of their existence could be heard in a blissful cry of joy that had resonated back towards the onlookers. Keira wondered how she could have missed seeing what had been in front of her.

As the cry dissipated in last rays of dusk's dimming light, Keira's mom replied, "Dad is with the flying with the birds."
"Why is he flying with the birds and not sitting with us mama?
"You know that everything alive is born, right?"
"Yes."
"Life can't live forever. They die, honey. And we hope they move on to some place better."
Kiara wore a perplexed look on her face as her mom lifted her onto the ground. "So he left us?" she convicted.
With eyes aloof, her mother answered, "The dead never leave us. They just watch from above."

With that, her mother left Keira to handle the clothes. Stepping over her rocking chair, she moved methodically to the chair, pondering what her mother had told her. Kiara stepped outside her room and dropped the clothes of into the hamper with a muted thud.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the dissonant shattering of a window, followed by the pounding of boots scattered across the house. Terrified, Keira sprinted into her room, locked the door, and ran to her bed. At the window, her eyes fell upon the children being hastened in by their parents to the safety of their house. The girl with the golden hair, looked over her shoulder and their eyes meet for the briefest of moments. Desperation, passed from one onto another. Taking up the cry for help,she refused to budge, pointing to Kiara obstinately, but her parents forced their daughter into the house without a backwards glance.

Keira heard the footsteps ascending the stairs, and dove under the covers of her bed and, holding Teddy close. Downstairs, she could hear her mother's outraged screaming. "Get out of my house! She is not one of them!" The shattering of something on the wooden floor, brought a deathly silence on the house. Breaking the silence the fire alarm's sudden ominous warnings, augmented the chill brought upon the house.

Keira's door burst open on its hinges and soldiers in heavy combat attire rushed into the room, seized the sheets, and yanked Keira out of the bed. Each soldier towered imposingly over Keira. Expressions didn’t vary. Each had the same cold countenance as the next: Set on a concrete jaw lines, lay tight-lipped mouths where secrets dared not pass forth. Above this, came checks and nose, haggard from lack of expression. Lastly, the eyes, situated under heavy brows, did not look as if a smile had brightened
their faces for years.

One soldier wrestled from Keira's hands Teddy and tossed it onto the window seat. Keira struggled, as the soldier lifted her behind his back and descended the stairs. At once the acidic odor of smoke hit her noise, causing a few tears to trickle down her stunned face. Heat radiated past the ominous wall of gray smoke that emanated from the kitchen. For the briefest of moments as the soldier past by the kitchen, she could see her mother, face down, spiraled across the kitchen floor, unconscious. Behind her, flames licked hungrily near her feet. They threatened to devour, as they leaped from one object to the next, consuming everything in their path. Kiara fought against her oppressor in vain, for he was to strong to overcome as her mother faded from view.

The soldiers leaped over the jagged edges of glass and they were out of the chocking air. Coming to a sudden halt in the front yard, they were dazed by flashes of light. Reality now imposed a dream like quality. Cameras and cell phones captured the expression of each individual that burst through the shattered remains of what used to be Kiera's living room window. As Kiera's eyes became accustomed to the light she realized a cluster of strangers and neighbors whispered to each other in huddles, consulting. As one, they shrank at the sight of Kiera watching them. Although huddling together, they refused to come so close together as to touch one another for their noses were upturned to each other in petty arrogance. As much as they loathed Kiara, they shied away from each other with the outmost contempt. The few people she knew refused to meet her eyes. Instead they remained at the edge of the group, examining their shoes.

A small band of reporters and their crew were setting up at the outskirts of the lawn. The news groups rushed to set up their equipment, each wanting to be the first to have a live interview. In fact two news group had already set up a crude broadcasting system and were interviewing what looked like a business man in a suit. The suit looked as if it had been constructed as to give the wearer, a stiff frame, while the person unruffled by the discomfort was at leisure, conversing with the spokesman.

The other filmed Keira. The spokesperson watched Keira with distain written clearly across her face, writing notes occasionally upon a small notepad. From afar, a fire truck could be heard wailing. Overhead, a helicopter’s rhythmic blades cut through the smoke and din as if it they were nothing, but butter. Everything and everybody seemed to be set up systematically as if everything had been planned. There were numerous news groups, yet they never seemed to not have a spot. Possibly they had a designated spot which they were confined to. Unless informed of this prior to that morning, it would have been almost impossible to amass the throng of people that accumulated in front of her house.

Recovering from the breif lapse in shock of the camera flashes, the soldier holding Kiera put her down. While struggling, Keira was grabbed with an iron clasp from two men, as they dragged her away in a dream like trance from the burning house as lights encompassed their vision. Keira could see time passing as clearly as if individual grains of sand were falling through an hour glass. Each grain seemed to hit the bottom with a empty echo. People whispered, one echo. Cameras rolled, another echo.

As the wind soothed her, the echoes fabricated by Keira's imagination, disappeared. With her eyes red, an unrelenting stream of tears flowed down her face. She held her head as high as she could and turned to face the soldier behind her. His gaze was fixed beyond her, lost in thought. Her eyes searching, pleading, she whispered, "Look at me. I’m not a monster. Look at me." His eyes meet hers. His face was impassive, yet his eyes wavered under hers. Flames greedily, licked at the edge of her vision: consuming, devouring, overwhelming. A silent scream built in her throat, threatening to burst forth. Clutching her bracelet with the whites of her knuckles in stark contrast from the fire, she suppressed the scream.

Keira drew from her desperation, her courage, her will, her heart, and commanded: “My mama is in there.” Her voice caught in her throat, and her eyes glazed over in unmitigated pain, she continued, “Save her.” He blinked and looked down ashamed. Gazing up at her, his eyes clear, he nodded, understanding. Turning his back to the crowd, he hurled himself through the curling smoke. As his silhouette became as indistinctive as the whips of smoke wafting out from the broken window, Keira sank to her knees in fatigue. The other soldiers stopped, waiting for their comrade to return. All through this, the interview continued leisurely, people cowered and whispered, the spokeswoman dabbed powder on her nose and glared disdainfully around. Only the cameras turned to the Keira's direction, recording her.

She bit her lip, drawing a few drops of blood that trickled down her chin to land on the grass below. A steady stream flowed as more pressure was increasingly applied. Her fingers moved erratically at her side while she rocked herself side to side. Only her visage was stock still, her eyes fixed on the spot where the soldier disappeared. Her mouth was set in a thin line while her checks flushed with the fury of the flames. The heat rising from the blaze distorted the house in a vaporous shroud. Keira shuddered and looked down, unable to open her eyes to watch her house burn.

With the indistinct form of the soldier returning, she gazed up mechanically. Stepping out of haze of smoke he had draped in his arms, the lifeless form of her mother. Her mother’s mouth was stretched in a grimace of pain. Her once jet black hair lay limp, singed and gray. Her arms displayed smudges and blisters from the fire, while her face was turned black from soot and unrecognizable. The immaculate imagine that Keira’s mother once preserved now lay in the tattered ruins of clothes seared and gritty. Only her tender blue eyes staring into the distance, fixated on something far away, contained the last trace of resemblance the corpse held to her mother.

What words that could not pass from the mouth, transcended the barren space between Kiara and the soldier. Reflected in his eyes that life had suppressed, came truth of the world newly expressed. In life still young, the new death lead to woe unrepressed.

From her the bottom of her toes, to the tip of her head, she trembled. Uncontrollable, convulsions that racked her body. Left from right, up from down, was indistinguishable. Everything was everywhere and it was not. Only the fire stayed constant: engulfing, enveloping, enfolding its victim and vessel. The scream no longer controlled, came forth at first as a moan. Escalating higher than the smoke in the sky, the moan extended over of her vision to form an unearthly cry.

Eerie and sullen eyes followed the sobs, to their surprise they found their eyes resting on a girl, kneeling with her face contorted the clouds. Kiara’s pupils dilated, altering her face to take on the look of a cornered wild animal while her hands shook as if in a fever.

Her hands grabbed at the stalks of grass, as if they were stakes that kept her rooted to the ground. Gradually she subsided to a fit of tears with hands shielding her face. The sirens still wailing in the distance contrasted with the eerie silence it created. “What had the world become? Was it always like this, or just today did it change?” Keira whispered to in her hands, and no one answered.

Hands clasped her shoulders, and heaved her onto her feet, though she cried profusely. With a harsh shove to her back, she took her first trembling step. Fiery pain laced with the bitter memory of her mother's broken body, coursed through her. In conjuncture to the image, the incessant wailing of the sirens blared in her ears. The world swam before her eyes, in a cacophony of unreality: blinding lights, acidic smoke, the now festering crowd, and most of all the fire. It, in stark contrast to the chilling town, breathed on its own accord with life. Engorged with fuel, it persistingly, spiraled out of oppresion. It swayed and flickered, throwing a vivid scarlet, on the horror sticken faces on the hypnotized, the traumatized, the desensitized, and those not on any side. Keira's vision had turned red once again. Yet the new night could not be overcome by this solitary pillar of passion. Enshrouded by dark's icy indifference the shadows englufted the flames with their sinister cloak sending Keira into barren blackness.


(Problems:)
-would anyone especially a small girl react this way?
-still slightly unbelievable anyone could get there that fast
-incredibly chessy lines
-over doing things: desciption, repitition, aliteration
-other things I haven't thought about yet


when does the dependence contest end? on the very last day of February?
edit: nvm found it already ended. though I thought I had a good idea about what to write for it. maybe I'll write about it anyways.
 
ive read maybe one or two creepypastas that were ok
would it be alright if i moved my writing into a seperate thread with some of my visual art as well?
i would probably leave what i have here heare but copypasta things around
??
 
would it be alright if i moved my writing into a seperate thread with some of my visual art as well?

Nope.

In the recent discussion on policy in this forum, it was decided that all writing would go into one stickied megathread (which was why this was stickied) rather than being separate threads. If you have double the amount of art than you do writing pieces then technically you could, but I don't think you'd get much feedback. Anyone interested in writing comes here really.

You could always put some links to the pieces in this thread though.
 
So here's my piece for dependence. I know the competition is over and everything, but I have a hard to finding stuff to write about and the topic was right there. I never write about a theme or symbol discretly of through objects, so this is my first try. Its not hard to understand what the dependence is, but I tried not to bluntly state it. Also for the two endings, you choose.

Dependence story I haven't named:
............................................
Dear Jared,

It began with those wide rimmed, ancient goggles that you glasses. There were other insignificant annoyances, but that was the beginning of the end. Strolling into school that morning with the confidence of Superman with kryptonite wiped from existence and me faithfully at your side, I felt ashamed of you for the first time. I really shouldn't refer to Superman or any other comic hero. They're sorta dumb now, but it”s written, and I can't change it. Not that I can't, but I would feel as if I'm only divulging you half the truth, even if only one sentence is absent and the truth is all I have left to give. Also I'm not to good at starting letters as you probably can already tell, so bare with me.

I could never comprehend how you always had that horrible fashion sense. Don't get me wrong, its not only you, most boys aren't great at perceiving when colors clash. Oh, this isn't turning out so well. From here on, I'll just say everything I need to say, nothing else, promise.

Anyways those glasses...good god those glasses, how could you not foresee what would happen? If you didn't see it then, I guess you don't see it now. In the hallways at school, you couldn't hear Jody, Greg, and the others, but I could. A whisper here, a murmur there about those darn glasses. If only it was the glasses though! You imparted my greatest fear, my biggest secret know to three, now know to the school. You told Greg that I loved comics, that I used to (and still do) read, study, and discuss them. Mostly it was my fault, not having told you it was a confidential, but you should have known at that point, comics weren't that cool.

In the midst of conversation with Jody and Greg, whenever you ambled by greeting me with a head held high, occasionally stopping to analyze the new superman release. They would cough, "four eyes" or "nerd" at you and you would walk on unfazed, not perceiving the trouble you had caused. I would try and stand up for you when you left(because you always speed right on by), but then they would belittle me too, and you don't know what its like! Constantly insulting and ditching me, were among the multitude of punishments they formulated. I see them each day, and for that to carry on week by week, I just couldn't handle it. They would eventually forget about the comics and tease me, if you'd cease coming to me and relaying the newest issue with that ignorant smile of yours. I've also been friends with them since I was 10, going to parties, elementary, middle, and high school. So many joyful memories. I couldn't let that go, so I gradually remained silent as you passed by.

Years ago, we regularly conversed about comics while toddling to the bus stop: Batman, wolverine, the green lantern, and above all superman. But when our new neighbor Ellie moved into Mrs. Pilters ancient house and walked with us to the bus stop, the debates continued, yet never with the gusto it once had. That was 7th grade I think. I had outgrown them. People didn't talk about that anymore because they matured, but I didn't have the heart to stop the conversations.

Ellie was polite. She tolerantly listened to our ramblings. Keith on the other hand always leaped at the opportunity to insult. I still muse why you acceded to him bullying you, though I shut him up then. I have this vague recollection of the one time I didn't and you questioned me why even though Keith's violence hadn't been aimed at you. There were some things I forgoed in my answer.
I'm sure you remember, however if you've forgotten, (because you seem to be caught in a day dream nowadays,) I'll just paint a brief reminiscence.

This transpired when Mrs. Pilters was still well enough to stroll out every morning and utter a hello and wave clutching that cane for dear life whenever she let go one arm. Everyday we reached her block, on cue, she would wobble up from her rocking chair accompanied by her devoted cat. She would hasten to the mailbox while her cat had already dragged his aged paws to rest on the metal casing. We would always help her open it when her fingers failed to force open the box and she would give us one of her toothy smiles. One day, one ill-fated Sunday, the cat seemed to have forgotten that no children would pass its territory to stroke its furry, crooning sweet nothingness into its ear. I, by fate, was almost completing an the arduous task of forcing my bike home with both wheels deflated on the other side of the street. Keith sauntered by, overlooking me, but not the cat. Rotating his head towards Mrs. Pilters house and glimpsing no figure through the window, he seized the cat by its scruff and sprinted away.

In the split second his eyes locked on the cats and he took a hesitant check around, I came to the realization of his intentions. I would have simply called out which I knew would inevitably lead to a brawl, but something held me back. Resurfacing came a memory of our middle school principal. His hawk like eyes seethed, his face a livid scarlet. His tone, harsh, jabbing further than knives he barked in my face, "This is the last time you will ever punch Keith. "My mouth barely had the chance to protest, "wait." That one word spoken in just defense just edged him on. "No. You are to report every day to the hallways, in the morning, before school to polish the filth off the floor. Maybe it will finally teach you to clean your unruly habits," he hollered, spittle his shrapnel. Keith peered in the background with a devilish grin plastered to his fiendish countenance. My parents just whispered in the sidelines, "if she only was a nicer girl." The punishment I could tolerate, that slaps in the face, I could not. I spent my mornings polishing the floor to perfection, every once in a while I would wish I was a nicer girl too. While scrubbing, the principal practically breathed over me and to my horror, held me there until we held up the stream of kids.

As that memory ended with the milling of kids around me giving me curious stares which in reality was laser vision, Keith was at the block with his prize in hand. I could have given chase, but replaying in my head were my parents words and I wanted to be a nicer girl so I let him go.

The next day as we passed Mrs. Pilters's house without Ellie because she was sick, Mrs. Pilter stumbled out slower. We had lingered slightly too, waiting for her to get to her usual post. Before our eyes she had aged before our eyes, more ancient and twisted over. But never was she broken before. She leaned on the crane as her sole support now, but some things can never be replaced. Not even attempting to pry open the mailbox, she beseeched us, "Have you seen my cat? He always comes home to dinner from his midnight wanderings since he was a kitten. But he didn't yesterday." We shock our heads no, and she grimaced pleading that if we saw him that we would tell her if he is okay or where he was, even if he didn't want to go back to her. A few blocks away, I couldn't contain myself. I blurted out that I had watched Keith snatch the cat away. You were taken aback and implored why I had not stopped him. I only managed a mumble. I think it was something like, "fighting is for boys, not girls."

I don't know whether it was because I looked so wretched (or felt so tortured), but you did not prod for more and I was thankful, ever grateful.

So now the conclusion to whatever this is. I was never worthy of your friendship before or now. You must have better friends than me. Though I have not seen them, maybe for a reason haha. I'm just someone who couldn't even stand up for you now, maybe back then before everything, but not now. I don't even know how to put this, although I can try. I've gotten this far.

You and I, we've grown apart. What once didn't bother me now does. Its not that I want independence from you, its that you need it from me. Someday when you want to discuss some new batman issue, I'll refuse and tell you to leave. Maybe one day you would detect the sarcasm laced in Greg and Jody's voice when they try and chime in or wonder why I cower when you come near. Maybe, I would join them in the heat of a pent up rage. The blunt fact is, I can no longer shield you from abuse and torment I suffered and still bear and I refuse to one day be so clouded as to inflict onto you what they do to me. What scares me the most, is that I don't know when I'll break. The conversations, the bullying, and most of all you are driving me insane. You are a living reminder of what I had been, what I can never pretend to be any longer. (no offense). I'd just rather not see you get hurt and anyways, I'm not a nice as friend as you've been to me. This is my way of saying that we can't be friends any more. I'm sorry and goodbye.

Sincerely, Jacky


Ending 1:
Jacky sealed the letter with a forlorn glance across the street. For days after delivering the letter to his sister, (she could not deliver it to him personally) she did not glimpse Jared in the hallways, lunch, or the bus. Finally, one day, she watched as he pushed his bike up the hill to home, from her bus seat.

She could not see his face, but she saw his back. He strained to haul the deflated bike over the hill, sometimes leaning on the bike for support to weary to continue forth, but even that could not carry his full weight. Jacky's caught a last glance of him from straining her neck backwards before he vanished from view. He slumped to the curb, dejected in his effort with his face buried in his hands, with a slopping spine more hunched than Mrs. Pilters's without a crutch.

Ending 2:
Jacky sealed the letter with a forlorn glance across the street. For days after delivering the letter to his sister, (she could not deliver it to him personally) she did not glimpse Jared in the hallways, lunch, or the bus. Finally, one day, she watched as he pushed his bike up the hill to home, from her bus seat.

Although hunched from hauling a deflated bike over the hill, he was not alone. Ellie and he together, pushed the bike over the daunting hill all the while laughing with jubilee. Jacky's caught a last glance of him from straining her neck backwards before he vanished from view. Reaching the peak, Jared stood straight, no longer having to struggle with gravity, an untroubled person.

Spoilers:(what I wanted to convey)

-glasses and stick physical dependence
-cat and Jacky emotional dependence
-can replace physical, not emotional
-Jacky understands with cat/lady, but not with herself: irony
-the friendship didn’t start to fail with the glasses, it did when she didn’t get the cat back.
-she knows she hasn't been a "good girl" at end
-more of a guilt letter, inwardly and unconsciously, she knows she is taking away his emotional dependence which he can not do without.

-sometimes people can get over loss of emotional dependence, sometimes they can’t
 
so i've been in the mood for some lyrics writing, here's what i come up with:

anguished screams greet you

pitchblack flames engulf you

white-hot chains hold you

eternal hell awaits you

in this wicked place
where the disbelievers are sent
you will not recognize a face
the rules of this world are bent

you will feed on thorns
that stick to your insides
you will drink boiling water
that melts your intestines

you will wear a rag
a special one, no doubt
its stench will make you pout
its heat would burn worlds

peace doesn't exist here
just constant hate and fear
fear of the torture
and hatred of your demons
 
Wildfire, that's...actually kinda neat.
There it was, on the horizon, roof tops gleaming in the Norweigian sun. After months of trekking through the bitter cold, the traveller was coming home.

The crunch of boots on ice and the incessant static of the radio was all that accompanied him as he approached the borders of the small town of Byen Skinne, the first sign of humans since he had left that lonely outpost in the ice fields, stocked with supplies and preserved food to aid hikers in the deepest of winters. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Otherwise, all was silent as the white evening sun cast long shadows in its skewed path across te sky, making the air seem as if it were a clear crystal glass. Far off, the traveller thought he heard the tinkling of bells.

He arrived among the neatly-shingled roofs of Byen Skinne, in a side lane that appeared unchanged since he grew up here as a young child. With his brown locks flapping in the summer wind, he had ran down the cobbled path into the bushes off the path...

...the days, where the townsfolk were contented and life as peaceful as it could be, and the day where he saw the dog, large and white and vast, hunched over some rotting carcass of a previous hunt. The dog, sniffing in the air, had turned around with an angry growl, and the young boy was transfixed by its coal-black eyes, black as the cobblestone paths, and the child began to-

A scream? The traveler looked up, jerked from his thoughts. A peal of laughter, perhaps, coming from one of the old houses down the street. The sound drew his attention to the strange silence that seemed to hang over the town. Byen Skinne was never a loud town anyway, since the town drunkards all took to conducting their business in the next town that actually had a tavern, a mile south of the town square. Still, the quietness was unusual even to his accustomed ears. Everyone must be indoors, he thought to himself. In a town as small as this he had never remembered anything more chaotic than a mild clamour.

As the traveller walked down the street, his mind drifted back into the past. There was the old merchant's cottage, he used to sit the village children on his lap and spin stories of his days as a seaman. And there was nice Madam Feynni, who baked the best cakes this side of the continent...

...and he was running, running up the street, screaming for his mother, crying of a large white dog in the bush at the end of the road. Rushing into his mother's arms, he heard himself sobbing, and his mother's soothing voice, barnet, roe ned, roe ned og vise pappa hunden, and ikke gråte, don't cry, don't cry. And pappa had led the sobbing little boy down the lane into the bushes with a gun, pushing aside the branches, expecting a wild beast to burst out any moment, but nothing was there save a scrap of bloody meat and a footprint two sizes too large for an ordinary dog.

The traveller tripped. Looking down, he pulled his foot out of a shallow pothole, one that reminded him of that day in the bushes with his pappa and his gun. His mind, half-awakened from childhood reminiscence, panicked for a moment, as if the large, white hound was going to jump out of a house any moment. There was a sound behind him. He turned around.

Nothing was there.

For a second he felt quite foolish, standing at the beginning of the street flanked by quiet houses in the all-too-quiet hometown. It was only the wind, blowing through the street a torn newspaper. OSLO FA- it said in large capital letters, and the ink looked splotched and hasty, as if rushed through at the last moment. The traveller picked it up: the date in the corner read 9/6/20 before being cut off at the tear. It looked aged.

He checked his digital watch: had it really been that long? The last bit of news before the radio broke was a rumor of some epidemic in Britain. Clinical trials gone wrong, it said.

Well, whatever it was, it could never get as far as here. Cold, faraway Norway, and especially cold, faraway Byen Skinne. The traveller tramped on into the town square of the strange silent hometown.

Some eyes watched him from the shadows of a house. Pupils dilated in the dark, it smiled. For the sun was setting in the crystal cold evening, and it would soon be dark, and there would be food for all the family.
 
Some shitty story I did for English to appease my teacher, minus the written explanation. Anyway, seeing as my other pieces are at home, here it is:

‘Art allows us to see what science can’t explain.’

6th June 2022:
‘In the modern world, science seems to solve all our problems with its detailed experiments, comprehensive explanations and impressive inventions. But when it comes to the mysterious and intricate subject of art, even the most accomplished of boffins cannot reason out every swirl, shade, and stroke that appears on the canvas in front of them.’ The words of our art teacher, Ms. Panini. Ugh. Soooo boring. I don’t know why Mum is so insistent on getting me into Art! But our excursion to the Scientific Landscape Centre tomorrow will show her! Trying to prove that there’s actually something behind art other than lines, chemicals and colours! Pah! We’ll see.
Signing off, Paolo’

The Year 9 Art Class was waiting at the door of the newly opened SLC, chattering excitedly in the cold winter air, while their teacher busily repeated that the art was to be taken in too logically.

‘Use your heart to drink up what you see before you,’ stressed the overly emotional woman.

All but one of the students turned to face her as she overviewed the tour from her instruction booklet. The boy named Paolo simply sat slumped in a corner, correcting his Maths homework. Then the doors suddenly opened, and a small man hopped out.

‘Come in, students! Your grand tour is about to begin. Step this way!’

As they entered, the entire class sighed and exclaimed.

‘Wow!’
‘Amazing!’
‘I’m lost for words!’

Paolo couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. All he saw was a large shiny building with a few floating pieces of rubbish inside an enclosure. But the class continued to rave.

‘Psychedelic!’
‘Smooth!’
‘Shaped like an egg!’
‘It’s green!’
‘Pink and spotty!”

‘It seems you are becoming acquainted with our technological marvels? Everything is perfectly controlled, of course.’

But one child had a question: ‘The text here says this is supposed to be a psychedelic pattern full of orange triangles, but I see the image of a horse!’
‘Just a lack of artistic experience, for sure…’ mumbled the guide. ‘Now hurry along!’

Everybody seemed confused, questioning each other on what they saw and how you could mistake a horse for an abstract image. Paolo looked around unamused while clutching the brochure he’d received at the front entrance. Though he wouldn’t admit it, something was wrong with the ‘art’. Scientific miscalculations? But the news reporter said everything had been checked for accuracy by the Robotic Board of Precision. He shrugged, and continued to follow the class, gazing around at the small fizzles of electric energy and muttering about the stupidity of imagination.

As they entered the room, the teacher cried out: ‘M-mother? Is that you?’

‘Not really, missus. You see, these pictures DO change as they sense your personal desires. Everyone will see something different! But please don’t lean over the railing! We don’t want any, um, accidents!’

Paolo was once again disillusioned. Simple mindwave technology wasn’t disguising the fact that there was nothing there but a small black box that pulsed energetically and span in endless circles. But it was working for every other person in the room. He strolled languidly over to a deserted corner and got out his Maths again. Then something touched him on the arm.

‘Paolo? Is that you? Come with me…to the land of dreams…’

Paolo let out a shriek of fright and dashed away from the image of his dead, mad grandmother.

‘What on Earth is wrong?’ exclaimed the teacher in fright, while the other students snickered at the normally aloof and expressionless boy.

‘G-g-grand-m-m-a…’ he stuttered.

‘What is going on, Sir Scientist? What’s happened to my student?

‘I-I can’t explain it either. He must have seen something…’

‘THIS PLACE IS SUPPOSED TO BE CONTROLLED! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?’

‘Even science can’t explain everything…’

Paolo, still shaken from seeing his grandmother, was beginning to see this, too.

‘Well, we’re leaving! I’ve had enough of these electrical apparitions!’

‘I want to stay!’

‘Miss, it’s too pretty to leave!’

‘I’m married!’

‘I have a chocolate factory!’

But Paolo, trying the door, found it locked. The electricity wasn’t shorted out, so the doors should have opened. Unless…

‘Impossible! The doors are locked. But electricity has no life of its own…’ muttered the professor quietly.

‘We are finishing this tour, everyone! On to the gallery exhibit!’

And so the unwilling teacher, frightened Paolo and smitten students climbed the stairs to the next room.

As soon as they arrived, Paolo noticed something was wrong. The words under the immediate 3D enclosure read: ‘Mona Lisa’ but to him, it was nothing more than a small piece of paper with a crude scribble on the front. This time, however, he realised that wasn’t the picture in the minds of the others.

‘This is the Mona Lisa…’ began the small scientist, but before he could finish, a boy interjected:

‘That’s Albrecht Durer’s The Hare, dummy!’

‘No! It must be my grandfather on a tractor!’

The chaos was worsening as each student began to quibble over the identity of the works. Suddenly, the professor grabbed Paolo and took him aside.

‘Something isn’t right. People are becoming deluded! But you aren’t! I’ve seen you staring blankly at the Mona Lisa, and the entrance work! No two people are seeing alike! And you’re the only one other than me who sees right through them!’

‘There’s nothing I can do!’ whispered the frightened boy in return. But before he could continue, the old man yelled out:

‘Everybody, there has been a system failure! We are exiting through the Interactive Quadrangle down the next flight of stairs! Follow me!’

And so each oblivious and entranced person made their way to the opposite end of the area, but as Paolo, robbed of his technical philosophy, turned around, the previously empty frames were now full of colourful pictures he could not conceive.

Paolo remembered the day his grandma had passed away. He was only six, when she had burst into the living room and started raving about her new daughter, five golden sheep and newfound love for ice hockey, just as she returned from the new electricity plant. Shortly after, she screamed out: ‘I’m drowning!’ and lay still on the floor. Since then, Paolo had refused to embrace anything without a direct explanation, afraid of the consequences.

‘W-well, here we are! The Interactive Quadrangle!’
Paolo gazed around, expecting to see nothing more than some scientific apparatuses. But what greeted him, like the previous room, was a colourful array of objects: games, inventions and even plants. They beckoned longingly to him, each one an entrancing mix of colours, mediums and shapes.

‘What an amazing work of art, to convince the viewer that they’re in it! I could never think even science could reach this far. How does it work, Sir?’ enquired Ms. Panini.

But the scientist could see nothing

‘I honestly don’t know any more,’ was his only reply.

The unknowing students happily jumped around like four-year olds, admiring their individual opinions of the art while some actively played with it, never stopping to think how it was possible. Paolo, meanwhile, tried to get rid of the images that didn’t exist. But there wasn’t any hope of explaining it away, because the simple truth was: there was no explaining these virtual artworks. Then someone cried out:

‘Earthquake!’

‘Volcano!’

‘Spiders are biting me!’

‘Help!’

The electricity was turning against them, like it had turned on his grandmother. And then he realised that the only way to save himself was to admit that some things just were inexplicable. He yelled out:

‘I’m drowning!’

And a huge explosion rocked the building.


When Paolo came to, he was lying on the pavement outside the SLC, surrounded by empty picture frames. But when he stood up, dusted himself off and turned around, the SLC was gone, along with his fellow classmates and the professor, everything save for a small pond that used to be there before the SLC was put up.

‘Whose reality?’ he whispered.
 
...that was neat. It sounded like it came straight out of a Ray Bradbury short story, although I have a weakness for science fiction.

Also, play this while you read the last line.
 
My first ever story :) Short story about Pokemon..wrote it for one of the giveaways.

A young Mienfoo sat wide-eyed among the rest of his tribe. For the first time in living memory, the Mienshao family and the Hydreigon's were having a meeting that did not involve bloodshed and chaos. Neither side trusted the other, but by necessity, order was kept, and no fights broke out. The gravity of the situation was too extreme.
"Mummy, is that a boy or a girl?"
A few sniggers arose from the Mienshao assembled, while the Deino he was referring to growled at the young one. The young one, having never seen one before, was genuinely curious.
A quick glance from their leader's silenced the crowd.

The Hydreigon leader raised his voice.
"I am sure you are all aware of the reason we are here today."
A few mothers held their babies closer.
"I know everyone here has formed their own opinion of why this…incident occurred. I know, that as usual, you are waiting for us to blame one side, and start the usual fight between our families. This time, however, no one side is to blame. Both sides must take equal responsibility, and then subsequently deal with the problem."
The Mienshao leader spoke up.
"As you know, no one side of us is strong enough for this. Our adversary is too powerful, too knowledgeable…"
The leader faltered, then shook his head.
"Anyway. We know what has to be done. It's not going to be easy and it's not going to get done by blaming each other."

The young one turned to his mother, not understanding. 'What is going on?' the look in his eyes said. His mother just sat still, tears forming in her eyes. The little one decided that he wouldn't ask any longer, so he turned around and began to think about an issue more important and relevant to him, the disappearance of his sister.

The young Mienfoo had not been named. This was a right of passage reserved for when he would evolve, into a Mienshao. Instead he was just called a youth, or if occasion necessitated him to be singled out, "Little One." He was little, small even by the standards of Mienfoo. His sister also, had been "Little One," and at the time of her disappearance, she had not yet evolved.

This major problem that had all the adults worried didn't bother him. Why weren't they looking for his sister? He was assured that the adults were doing the best they could, but he didn't believe it. He wanted to go out and search for her right now, but he knew it would never be allowed. The moment he evolved into a Mienshao, he would make it his life goal, to find his sister, and bring her back.

They were brought up in a place that would be known as Victory Road when discovered by humans, but until then it remained nameless and untouched by the outside world. It was dark, treacherous and full of powerful Pokemon, Mienshao and Hydreigon being the most powerful. It cheered the little one to know that he was part of one of the most powerful families in his little world.

He was brought back to reality by the sounds of his parents talking. His father was part of the leader's inner circle; only he and a few others actually knew the truth of the problem that faced them. The leader's assumed that everyone knew, but the warriors of the group had in fact refused to talk about it to anyone else. His father remained silent while the others speculated.

The same was in the other family. The warriors who knew the problem were too scarred to reveal it to anyone bar their leader.

The general consensus was that a terrible evil had been unleashed. Almost everyone agreed that it was probably a legendary Pokemon long said to live deep inside the cave system, and it was probably woken into a terrible rage by the families constant warring. It was the explanation that made sense, and most people were ready to believe it. Which lead them to the problem. They can't fight a legendary. It is almost against the laws of nature, and they know that they will get pulverised if they try. They all knew how the battles between legendary Pokemon went. None of them had the strength to flatten a cave system, let alone the entire region. When it came to legendaries, the families let them fight their own wars and stayed well away.

The young Mienfoo started to sleep.

-----------------------

In his dream, he remembered his sister, and when they were both children. They both trained with other Mienfoo, and went on excursions deep in the caves, and if they were lucky, sometimes even outside.

One day however, the bullying started. Being smaller than most, the two young Mienfoo were bullied relentlessly about their size, and both ran home crying that day. For which they received more bullying.

After a few incidents, the young Mienfoo began to notice a change in his sister. She became more withdrawn, more concentrated, and most scarily, more ruthless. The intensity with which she trained was frightening, and her attitude began to drastically change.

The young one saw this coming for many weeks. One day, the bullies sidled past and made a snide comment about their height (nothing new to the young ones, they knew all possible ways of insulting someones height already from past experience). The young Mienfoo saw a flash in his sister's eyes. He passed it off as nothing, thinking he might have imagined it, until she threw the most vicious Force Palm he had seen in his entire life. The crack echoed right right round the cave. The bully flew off his feet, hit a wall, and lay still.

Someone screamed.

The Mienshao in charge rushed over to see if he was ok. The bully was limp, like a rag doll. He was alive, but in what condition, the adult did not know. The ferocity of that Force Palm was unbelievable. The adult was genuinely scared of what she might do to the rest of them if that happened again. Despite this, the adult berated her until she apologised for what she had done. But there was no feeling, no pity in her voice.

The next day, she was just gone.

-----------------------

The families decided that the best course of action was the obvious; to take their best warriors to confront this terrible being. However, most of the "best warriors" consisted of the ones who had already confronted this adversary, and the ones who came back alive were too terrified to relate it to anyone. The leaders eventually decided that they would go alone, being the most powerful warriors in their families, and no one else willing to try.

So they set off. The young Mienfoo, while no one was looking, snuck around a back tunnel which he knew would lead to where the leaders were going. He did not even know why, but he had a feeling this "problem" and the disappearance of his sister were related. He followed at a safe distance, out of earshot. The two leaders were occasionally conversing in whispers, but for the most part, they were quiet. They followed the route that they were told the warriors came back from a few days ago, where they met their adversary.

They halted.

"Do you hear something?"

The Hydreigon all of a sudden became nervous. If the Mienshao leader had indeed heard Her, She must have also heard him.

They came into a small cavern, where the bodies of the warriors who didn't return from the last expedition lay. They both stopped.

"FUCK."

"Jesus, this wasn't a fight, this was a massacre."

"This is why we don't mix. This. Is. Why. Mienshao have enough fighting spirit on their own, but when they are brought up on darkness, like us Hydreigon's, that passion turns to pure evil."

"A Mienshao raised as a darkness dragon… look at this."

The young Mienfoo let out a small gasp of surprise. A Mienshao did this?! One Mienshao?! What is this talk of a Mienshao raised by darkness.

The leaders heard him and whipped around, both ready to fight. They relaxed when they saw him, though they did not say anything. They didn't have to. The young one was too busy focused on the spectacle behind them.

His sister was sitting calmly in a rock formation high up on the wall. She was quiet, observing the scene without making a sound. The young one watched as she appeared to stand up, jump and glide down in slow motion. She pulled back her arm, and time sped up again just in time for her to deliver a Brick Break that shattered the head of the Hydreigon. He dropped without a sound. The Mienshao leader spun around.

The young one's sister smiled. "Miss me?"

The leader just glared. "You aren't one of us. You don't even have a name."

She snorted. "Meiou."

"What?"

"That's my name. Lord of the underworld. And lord of the underworld I will be."

"You're insane. How could you do this to your own family?"

"Ahhh but you see, you tried to exile me. And as you just pointed out, I am not one of you. I made your job easier by leaving. I may have been raised by Hydreigon's from then, but they aren't my family either. I don't owe allegiance to any of you. So you are all fair game."

She turned to her brother. "I'm sorry little one. I have to kill this Mienshao, but I will spare you. My fighting spirit, as these two kindly acknowledged, has turned to pure hatred and sadism, but I still have enough soul left to know that you are the only one who understands me. Run along now little brother, and remember, if you ever want to join me, I welcome it."

She turned to the leader. She smiled.

Low Kick! Bounce! Hi Jump Kick!

The fight was over in seconds. The young Mienfoo ran for his life.

Meiou just stood over the two bodies. She ripped the heads off and held them up as grisly trophies, and laughed.

She was not the Lord of the Underworld. She was the Underworld. She was the stories mothers told their children to scare them. She was the dark, the fear.






For those curious, yes, meiou actually does mean lord of the underworld. 冥王, or めいおう.


Please comment/criticise! :D
 
That was a really unique spin on things! I really enjoyed your dark and creepy style! I'm working on a never-ending Pokemon story ATM. The start borrows its beginning chapter styles from an online web fiction on dragonflycave.com, but it's developed into my own style and is much lighter. Do you think I should post chapters?
 
I'm normally iffy about fanfiction but I suppose it can do. You could always try to impart a more "tribal" tone, it makes it sound less like a story and more like a legend.
 
*switches on light at desk* WAKEY WAKEY RISE AND SHINE WRITING THREAD!!!!1!

stupid humor aside, I've spent these past few months improving my writing style tremendously. Here's a quick glance at part of Ch1 of my latest work, titled "Twilight Wanderers" (note that the story actually doesn't reference the title yet; that'll come later on)

Nothing lasts forever… This was, of course, the umpteenth time Ria had told herself this after deciding to leave home. Even now, as she stood at the outskirts of town, she still regretted the decision. But what was there to do? She’d gotten fed up with the overbearing rules and regulations her parents had placed on her life, so she left. There wasn’t anything else to it. Or so she hoped.

The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon when she stopped again in a clump of field grass, this time pausing for a small snack. The tan-ish building she had once called home was no longer in her range of sight, but she could still recall the feeling of security that came with having a place to stay. She missed that feeling of security, and probably would for quite a while. But regardless of whether she wanted to turn back or not, what was done was done. Perhaps sometime, most likely far in the future, she could go back, but for now she was on her own.

So that leaves…what? Relatives to turn to? I could try pleading with grandfather I suppose, but he’s usually away on business trips at this time of year… Ria grimaced. It had taken her quite some time—the entirety of a walk through town in fact—to cool her heels and actually start thinking over what she was going to do, now that she had fully left and all. At nineteen she was fully capable of taking care of herself, but the prospect of living off the land was…unappealing to say the least. And to make matters worse, there were dark clouds brewing on the horizon. That meant rain, and lots of it. It might not have been raining straight at the moment, but with those clouds Ria knew a hellish downpour would start before nightfall.

I’ve got…two hours or so to find shelter. If I don’t, well… She closed her eyes, once again regretting her decision. But standing there regretting what was already in the past wasn’t going to make the rain clouds go away, and she knew it. As for finding shelter, however…

“Ria? What are you doing out here at this time of day?” She turned, startled, towards the speaker. It was one of the part-timers who helped out at harvest time. Kyle—it took her a few moments to dredge up his name—had apparently just been on his way back from working in the outer fields.

“Well…” Ria trailed off. Did she tell him that she’d just left home? What would he say? What would anyone say for that matter?

“If you don’t want to say, that’s fine with me. Was just worried, that’s all.” Kyle muttered after a moment spent staring at her grim facial expression. And with that, he was on his way.

Ria watched him leave, a bitter distaste hanging heavy in her heart. This was the first time she’d really had to hide stuff from other people—something which hurt her on the inside now that she’d done it. On the bright side, however, this chance encounter had got her thinking; she didn’t want to have to hide this sort of stuff from everyone she came across, especially not from people whom she knew. But she could work out how to go about doing that later. Right now what she needed was shelter, and fast.

Ria made good time working her way back to town, but ultimately she was not fast enough. By the time she reached the closest building—the local bank, within which almost everyone in town had an account set up—she was utterly drenched, soaked straight to the bone, clothes and all. Still, she’d made it back.

Things could be worse, I suppose. She thought to herself with a sigh, gratefully accepting the towel offered to her by the attendant currently on duty at the bank. If she remembered correctly, Kyle also worked part time here…but that train of thought could wait until she was dry. It was a pity she didn’t have a spare change of clothes on her, but at least the towel soaked up most of the water…

“That’s quite a storm out there,” the attendant—she’d forgotten his name—stated flatly, moving to a better position to watch the rain fall. Ria grunted an affirmative, using what little of the towel was still dry to pull as much water as she could out of her nut brown hair. Once she was as dry as was possible, she thanked the attendant once more, before turning to watch the rain herself. It didn’t take long however, before her thoughts turned inwards, back towards what all had happened over the course of the day.

Now that reality had had time to sink in, Ria discovered that she really, truly missed her parents. Sure, they could be hard asses at some times, but she knew they loved her, if only in their own awkward ways. Perhaps it would be possible for her to go back after all, but it would take some fancy footwork on her part to explain where she’d been for the day. Still, even though she regretted leaving, she had to ask herself if it really was worth going back. After all, now that she was on her own she’d finally found the freedom she’d always been yearning for.

Ria closed her eyes, not wanting to think about the touchy subject any longer. As it was, it was difficult to think about anything even remotely related to the matter without tears forming in the corners of her eyes…

Any comments/critiques are welcome, as usual. Once I get Ch1 completed I'll make a more formal post and start up adding chapters when I get around to finishing them (can't say it'll happen fast, but it'll happen). Just wanted to show that I'm still alive and kicking :)


Also:


Um, it's kind of going to become a fanfictiony but serious story. If nobody would appreciate it I'll just leave it.

Imo FF isn't a bad thing, but only if done in moderation. I've certainly done my fair share of it as well, but there comes a point where FFics cease to be useful to the writing process, and it's time to move on. Never ending fics get old after a while, since there's only so much you can do with premade characters anyways. I'm not saying that what you're doing is a bad thing per say, but if you truly want to spark reader interest I'd suggest you use FF as a stepping stone, before moving on and creating your own works :)
 
opener:

There was a little man named Hodd, and as for his parents, they didnt exist. Hodd never had parents, but he did feel something strange. Hodd had a strange flashback that would change his way of thinking forever...

(his parents were the gods of a legendary town known as oidinville).
 
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