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TheRexion
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CloseI am quite glad that you like it! I worked hard on it, though, I wish I knew what about my writing style people like, heh.
I am glad you liked it! Yeah, I spent, like, an hour finding the perfect theme. I think the one I ended up choosing fits very well. Nice without being overdramatized, haha.
Alright, here's something I plan on just writing numbly on the side. The name I couldn't tell you, but it's somewhat inspired from The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica.
Enjoy! Or not, it's your choice, hah.
Enjoy! Or not, it's your choice, hah.
“Stay away from the storm!” He calls out frantically, but he knows she can’t hear him. However, he doesn’t acknowledge this fact; instead, he yells louder, with hopes that, by happenstance, she may heed his desperate warnings. “Death be to all those who—” Suddenly he clasps his burning throat and collapses. He’d forgotten about the bind: the blood mark on his forehead that prevented him from speaking of The Acolyte. As much as he wants to, he is unable to stop her. He can only watch in agony as she carelessly traipses to her untimely doom. As she closes in on the broad, stone gate, she glances at the figures etched into it. They seem of Greek influence and resemble a variety of their deities.
Moving closer, she raises her arms and places them solidly on the door. Faintly, she hears an urgent scream from behind her, but is far go focused to notice. With all of her strength, she pushes the large slabs ajar. They’re incredibly heavy, but she manages to open them enough to allow herself entrance. As she looks inside, she sees exactly what she expected to see.
Darkness.
But then, the Gates of Alexandria show only what the viewer believes to be there. She reaches her hand out to it and feels the substance. It is dark purple in color and has a feel similar to that of gel. Emboldened by this, she begins pushing her body through the gelatinous form. The thin coating that sits atop it, though difficult to pass through, breaks as she pushes harder, and she slides easily into it. She slowly moves further and further away, into the endless shadows, until the light of the world is no longer visible. Then, she vanishes entirely.
For when one is completely detached from the light of the world; one becomes enveloped in the darkness of humanity. Darkness so strong, once entered, one may never return.
Alive, that is.
The boy slumps over in his chains; she was gone and he would never be able to get her back. Turning to the man behind him, he glares furiously.
“What… have… you… done?!” The calm figure eyes him coolly and turns his gaze back to the Gates of Alexandria.
“I’ve done nothing, Calleo, she went through of her own free will. You know this as well as I do, I am not to be blamed.” He nods and turns around, walking back into the nothing of which he came.
“You could have stopped this from the very beginning, dear boy. You could have saved her—preserved her Spirit and allowed her reason to stay. But you were afraid.” He paused, muttering something to himself before turning back around and continuing.
“And because you did not believe in yourself, you could not believe in her. And for this, she is gone. If you wish to blame anyone, blame yourself.” The moment he finished his sentence, he was gone. Calleo curses under his breath with vigil and lies back on the pedestal to which he is bound. He stares at the stars in the sky and the moon shining ever brightly over the grassy plains. The boundless emptiness of space seems to taunt him. “… to what end?” He says, resigned. “Even if I had believed… would my belief alone have been enough?”
Moving closer, she raises her arms and places them solidly on the door. Faintly, she hears an urgent scream from behind her, but is far go focused to notice. With all of her strength, she pushes the large slabs ajar. They’re incredibly heavy, but she manages to open them enough to allow herself entrance. As she looks inside, she sees exactly what she expected to see.
Darkness.
But then, the Gates of Alexandria show only what the viewer believes to be there. She reaches her hand out to it and feels the substance. It is dark purple in color and has a feel similar to that of gel. Emboldened by this, she begins pushing her body through the gelatinous form. The thin coating that sits atop it, though difficult to pass through, breaks as she pushes harder, and she slides easily into it. She slowly moves further and further away, into the endless shadows, until the light of the world is no longer visible. Then, she vanishes entirely.
For when one is completely detached from the light of the world; one becomes enveloped in the darkness of humanity. Darkness so strong, once entered, one may never return.
Alive, that is.
The boy slumps over in his chains; she was gone and he would never be able to get her back. Turning to the man behind him, he glares furiously.
“What… have… you… done?!” The calm figure eyes him coolly and turns his gaze back to the Gates of Alexandria.
“I’ve done nothing, Calleo, she went through of her own free will. You know this as well as I do, I am not to be blamed.” He nods and turns around, walking back into the nothing of which he came.
“You could have stopped this from the very beginning, dear boy. You could have saved her—preserved her Spirit and allowed her reason to stay. But you were afraid.” He paused, muttering something to himself before turning back around and continuing.
“And because you did not believe in yourself, you could not believe in her. And for this, she is gone. If you wish to blame anyone, blame yourself.” The moment he finished his sentence, he was gone. Calleo curses under his breath with vigil and lies back on the pedestal to which he is bound. He stares at the stars in the sky and the moon shining ever brightly over the grassy plains. The boundless emptiness of space seems to taunt him. “… to what end?” He says, resigned. “Even if I had believed… would my belief alone have been enough?”
This is great, particularly from "Darkness" on. (The intro could be better though, imo, though not bad, just not at the level of the rest of the text.)
I am glad you enjoyed the majority of it. Yeah, the beginning was weak when I started, guess my thoughts were confirmed.
Here's something else for you readers.
Quickly sitting up out of my bed, I look around frantically for the source of the noise. There doesn’t appear to be anything in sight, but something just seems… off. Placing my feet on the cold, wood floor, I quietly stalk out of my bedroom and into the hallway. “All’s quiet…” I mutter to myself as I glance both ways. A crash in the living room catches my attention. I walk through the barren hallway, taking note that the noise doesn’t seem to have disturbed any of my family members—despite them being much closer than I.
Creeping into the living room, I see a strange black silhouette sitting against the back wall near the fish-tank. It seems otherwise occupied and doesn’t notice me. I sneak around the room to get a better look; the darkness of the night and the lack of lamps don’t help much. I close in on the draped figure; it’s somewhat tall and seems to be hunched over something. A black cloak over its body prevents me from distinguishing any noteworthy features. Suddenly, it turns my direction warily and glances about the room. For a moment I think it sees me; but it turns around and goes back to whatever it was doing. Closing in further, I sit behind the couch near him—only four feet away from the offender. I grope my sweaty hand on the floor around me, looking for something to use as a weapon. My hand lands on a small, toy baseball bat.
“This’ll have to do…” I whisper quietly. Then, throwing off my previous secrecy, I stand and confront the visitor.
“Hey!” I shout as loud and commanding as a ten-year old can. “What are you doing in my house!” The loud noise startles it and it turns around to face me. For a moment it considers fleeing, but it seems to take note of my size. I can almost feel it smiling under the shadows.
“Go to bed, kid, before your parents have to have your funeral.” He threatens with a deep voice. Sweat is beading down my pale face and coats my arms. I am afraid; but I do my best not to show it. Whether he knew or not I couldn’t say.
“You need to get outta my house, butthead!” I state, lifting the 2-foot bat a bit higher, readying myself for any sudden movements. He stands straight up, revealing his towering height. From my guess, he was about 6 feet. That’s 2 1/5 feet taller than me. I take a cautious step back, raising my weapon a bit higher. As I do, he advances upon me, swinging a gleaming metal object in my direction. It barely misses me as I jump back, startled.
He brought a knife.
I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping that I live another day. Swinging the bat wildly, I try to hit him anywhere. I miss each and every time. I can feel his cocky smirk bearing down on me; I know he’s laughing under that hood. Taking a few more steps back, I feel around for my dad’s pistol. He’s kept it around ever since we were robbed two years ago. Gripping the cold steel in my hand, I pull it up to height and aim it at the intruder. He is visibly shocked by this and moves backwards.
“N-now hold on a moment…” He stammers; his voice cracking. “You d-don’t have…” Then he straightens up.
“You wouldn’t dare. You’re just a kid.” I stared hard at him. His cockiness fades as he takes a few more steps back. Something in my eyes told him I wasn’t kidding around.
Good, I think angrily. Because I’m not.
“Get out!” I demand. He, nearly tripping over his feet, dashes for the door and vanishes into the night, leaving it swaying solemnly in the night breeze. I place the gun back on the table and fall to my knees. My entire body is drenched in sweat; I was scared to death. At least the ploy worked… who knows what would’ve happened had he realized the gun wasn’t real. I sighed. It’s over, I told myself. For now, it’s over.
I went back into my room and lay on my bed, brooding over everything that had happened. I wouldn’t sleep that night, and a few nights after that, but… I guess it was going to happen somewhere—to someone. Deep in my heart I’m glad it was me.
Creeping into the living room, I see a strange black silhouette sitting against the back wall near the fish-tank. It seems otherwise occupied and doesn’t notice me. I sneak around the room to get a better look; the darkness of the night and the lack of lamps don’t help much. I close in on the draped figure; it’s somewhat tall and seems to be hunched over something. A black cloak over its body prevents me from distinguishing any noteworthy features. Suddenly, it turns my direction warily and glances about the room. For a moment I think it sees me; but it turns around and goes back to whatever it was doing. Closing in further, I sit behind the couch near him—only four feet away from the offender. I grope my sweaty hand on the floor around me, looking for something to use as a weapon. My hand lands on a small, toy baseball bat.
“This’ll have to do…” I whisper quietly. Then, throwing off my previous secrecy, I stand and confront the visitor.
“Hey!” I shout as loud and commanding as a ten-year old can. “What are you doing in my house!” The loud noise startles it and it turns around to face me. For a moment it considers fleeing, but it seems to take note of my size. I can almost feel it smiling under the shadows.
“Go to bed, kid, before your parents have to have your funeral.” He threatens with a deep voice. Sweat is beading down my pale face and coats my arms. I am afraid; but I do my best not to show it. Whether he knew or not I couldn’t say.
“You need to get outta my house, butthead!” I state, lifting the 2-foot bat a bit higher, readying myself for any sudden movements. He stands straight up, revealing his towering height. From my guess, he was about 6 feet. That’s 2 1/5 feet taller than me. I take a cautious step back, raising my weapon a bit higher. As I do, he advances upon me, swinging a gleaming metal object in my direction. It barely misses me as I jump back, startled.
He brought a knife.
I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping that I live another day. Swinging the bat wildly, I try to hit him anywhere. I miss each and every time. I can feel his cocky smirk bearing down on me; I know he’s laughing under that hood. Taking a few more steps back, I feel around for my dad’s pistol. He’s kept it around ever since we were robbed two years ago. Gripping the cold steel in my hand, I pull it up to height and aim it at the intruder. He is visibly shocked by this and moves backwards.
“N-now hold on a moment…” He stammers; his voice cracking. “You d-don’t have…” Then he straightens up.
“You wouldn’t dare. You’re just a kid.” I stared hard at him. His cockiness fades as he takes a few more steps back. Something in my eyes told him I wasn’t kidding around.
Good, I think angrily. Because I’m not.
“Get out!” I demand. He, nearly tripping over his feet, dashes for the door and vanishes into the night, leaving it swaying solemnly in the night breeze. I place the gun back on the table and fall to my knees. My entire body is drenched in sweat; I was scared to death. At least the ploy worked… who knows what would’ve happened had he realized the gun wasn’t real. I sighed. It’s over, I told myself. For now, it’s over.
I went back into my room and lay on my bed, brooding over everything that had happened. I wouldn’t sleep that night, and a few nights after that, but… I guess it was going to happen somewhere—to someone. Deep in my heart I’m glad it was me.
