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The lesser spirit



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Sat Jul 09, 2011 8:05 am
blackhike says...



Grimoire of the lesser spirits

Chapter 1: A blood stained dream
I've edited this many times, but some things have just recently been added, hope you enjoy.

I stood amongst the midst of a battle field, more of a ruin now. It feels as if the great flames that had once claimed this place were finally burning out. What was left was nothing but ash and blood. Dead bodies clung to everything. It was a slaughter house, and I stood in the middle of it all. I couldn’t see their faces, but it feels as though I once new them, kind of like some faint memory you’re trying to regain. Time seems oily and tense. Everything moves in a fluid motion as flames flicker in and out inconsistently.

My body feels strangely heavy. I look down to my clothes. I’m wearing a black lustrous hooded cloak that is connected to the base of my neck with a pair of silver wings strung together by a ferment chain. I hold a sleek black sword in my right hand; it has an oddly long base which would require me to us both hands to wield it. But that’s not the strangest part, its blade is strikingly long almost to the point where it appears brittle in comparison to a regular broadsword sword, the blade is definitely foreign for no smith in these parts would every make a sword so thin, however I can undoubtedly tell that is sword it is far more superior then any sword I’ll ever use. Out of the pommel is black chain with a silvery blue knife strung into its last strip. It feels as if this sword was once great and powerful, now all that’s left is a shell of its former self.

As I begin to walk forward, but something strikes me as odd, I pull up the cloak and check my leg, there is no mark in the muscle and my leg is no longer scarred, how astonishing I think, but my body does not agree with my thoughts, I continue forward hardly paying any heed to the anomaly. The shadows on the walls appear to be growing, my mind is playing tricks, because I see myself skipping from each interior to the next, I enter every room, but I see nothing inside them. The world has become to listless and drawn out, a familiar shiver runs down my spine.

I feel darkness close around me with every step. It’s as if my fear is slowly, but steadily growing. The skipping ends, as I reach the end of a destroyed hallway a grand open arch doorway appears before me. It stands tall where everything else around lays in ruin.

Inside lies a once vast and beautiful garden that now harbours only a few piles of ash and rock. In the middle sits a throne of black bone, and on it, a deformed king in his unrightful place. His face is mangled and split, half of it is human, and the rest is just bone. A translucent black robe covers the rest of him to his feet. In his hands he caresses a long tilted scythe; he appears to be purring with delight, paying no attention to me.

Uncontrollable fear grips me, as the wind betrays me by calling out my name “Noah.”, and it comes out in a long and exasperated breath. A shiver ripples down my spine, though why I have no idea, my name isn’t Noah, but here for some strange reason it is.

He looks up and smiles, suddenly I am jolted forward, slowly carried to this grotesque excuse of a man by my own two treacherous feet.

Each step feels like I’m being drawn closer and closer into hell. My feet end there descent, but they remain firmly glued to the earth, the distance between us has becomes so terrifyingly close that he could reach out and touch me and I’d be helpless to prevent.

He takes the scythe in his hands and slowly starts to raise it. My hands begin to tremble and I can’t keep grip of my sword. It slips from my grasp and falls agonizingly slowly as if being dropped into a pool of water. With the slightest of sound it touches the earth.

And then the blade shatters into a hundred pieces, I can hear the cries of a thousand souls as the braking of the blade releases them from their slumber in a hidden paradise and forces their souls back into this reality, this hell. Their ghastly screams take physical form and I am surrounded by the ghost of fallen men, women, and even children. Their pitiful forms are reduced to a desperate state as they all cried out in despair of the loss of the innocence that the blade had given them, once again they would be forced to endure the punishments that their minds set forth before the during the time of their living, only this time they were all dead. And in being such they lost the desolate call of oblivion which only the living might partake in the dark hours of the night.

I felt remorse for their suffering, endless remorse, but also fear because soon I would be joining their hell. I refocused my attention to this monstrosity of king. I want to stare into his eyes and let him feel my hatred and my contentment with the end of my time. I want to die bravely.

But after moments of taking a deep look into his eye, I feel my own widen in panic. His fear is as vast as the sea, his hate as endless as the sky itself. His lips ream with some kind of sinister satisfaction and his eyes were worse, they were filled with pure hatred, untainted malice. As his scythe reaches the brim of his reach, all feeling drains from his face, and he is left with no emotions what so-ever, because that is exactly what he is. My surroundings disappear and I’m left with nothing else, but him and

Absolute darkness….

With one final breath I try to call out, but my voice is lost in the swing of the scythe as its cold surface bites into the bed of my neck.

Nothing… Nothing… Nothing… No breath, no love, no feeling, no sight, no…

WAIT BREATH. I can breathe still…

And now I can feel, I am falling…

and now I can see, it’s terrifying.

I fall into a dark endless void where I could see nor grasp anything. The only sense left to me was feel, but all I could feel the cold. I was shivering; frost was gathering itself upon my shoulder and sending trembles across my spine. Was this death? All there was a terrible coldness, and the cold could only be matched by the loneliness I bore. It felt as if something had ripped apart my heart and filled it with ice. I succumbed to true despair.

It was then at the deepest part of my despair that a small glow began to shine off an object in the distance. I opened my eyes a saw a glorious dagger floating just out of my reach. It was obsidian black, but the aura around it was as bright as the sun. I want to reach out and grasp the knife but some unknown force starts pulling me back and I propelled farther and farther away from the knife and then suddenly abysmal darkness is now a hole and I am falling straight out of sky and towards the earth. Air rushes by faster and faster, the ground is just below my back but I don’t want to look because I know I’ll die.

I feel the ground racing closer, I know it is coming. My mind forms one thought as I hit the surface.
“What if all this was really just a dream, then what could it all possibly mean”?
  





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Sat Jul 09, 2011 8:39 am
Snake7 says...



This is intresting.

There's a few spelling mistakes:
blackhike wrote:me to us both hands

blackhike wrote:broadsword sword

blackhike wrote:would every make a


I'm not really sure about this sentence:
blackhike wrote:Uncontrollable fear grips me, as the wind betrays me by calling out my name “Noah.”, and it comes out in a long and exasperated breath. A shiver ripples down my spine, though why I have no idea, my name isn’t Noah, but here for some strange reason it is.


Intresting ending though. Very imaginitive.
"You overreach yourselves." Orphan

"No, we overreach you." Lightning, Final Fantasy XIII
  





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Sun Jul 31, 2011 10:29 pm
wonderland says...



Alright, so, good beginning. I can see you've worked hard. My main thing is that you tell the readers everything. Show the readers by playing towards their senses. Describe through the smell of the night, different feelings that your main character could be feeling. Slow down and take your time, too. Make sure to iron out every detail so the reader doesn't get confused.

Your description is lovely, though, keep expanding and showing the reader
~Wickedwonder
'We will never believe again, kick drum beating in my chest again, oh, we will never believe in anything again, preach electric to a microphone stand.'

*Formerly wickedwonder*
  





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Mon Aug 01, 2011 7:26 pm
Burma86 says...



I agree with wickedwonder here. You really worked hard on this and it paid off. You have successfully created an intense and chilling story that will keep your readers on the edge of their seats. All of the imagery was well-chosen and your main character's inner-monologue was explanatory enough to make the seemingly complex circumstances easily understood immediately.

However, I would like to point out that you go into great depth when you describe the sword and everything else your character is wearing. Everything you mention in this paragraph is pertinent, but the overall description seems too long. Perhaps try to shorten it a little so that we don't have to detract from the main story too long before diving back into it.

Additionally, there is another element in your story that severely disrupts the flow. Your use of commas is sporadic and almost uncontrolled. You put commas where they aren't necessary, and you don't put any where they are necessary. Here, I've put periods/semicolons where you have put commas.
As I begin to walk forward, but something strikes me as odd. I pull up the cloak and check my leg. There is no mark in the muscle and my leg is no longer scarred. How astonishing I think, but my body does not agree with my thoughts. I continue forward hardly paying any heed to the anomaly. The shadows on the walls appear to be growing. My mind is playing tricks, because I see myself skipping from each interior to the next. I enter every room, but I see nothing inside them. The world has become to listless and drawn out; a familiar shiver runs down my spine.


Here's a selection where I've put commas where they should be:
And, in being such, they lost the desolate call of oblivion, which only the living might partake in the dark hours of the night.


While commas can be evil soul-crushing demons, they give sentences the punch you want them to have on the reader by creating important pauses.

Nonetheless, this was the only major issue I found with your story. Overall, it is a fantastic piece that demonstrates a mastery of thrill and suspense. Thanks for sharing it and I hope to see more!
"Perhaps it comes from next door."
"Penguins don't come from next door, they come from the antarctic!"
"BURMA!"
"Why'd you say burma?"
"I panicked."
  








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