Short Story Contest Mk III

Welcome to the third Annual Supercheats Short Story Contest! The rules are pretty much the same as usual, for those who remember. They're also below, because making you trail through all those old threads would be a bit mean.

Take note that Supercheats has started to not display certain symbols. I'm pretty sure the percentage symbol isn't shown, and sometimes inverted commas won't be either. If I spot anything like that, I'll do my best to change them.

Finally, please don't post in this thread until after the results have been announced. This is to ensure that there are no unfair comments on the stories (i.e. guessing who wrote them or saying what you think of them) as they're posted. You've all been very good about this the last two years, but I thought I'd better specify this time, just in case. Questions should be asked in the discussion thread, or e-mailed to me at the usual address.

As before, this post will be updated with new developments if they are needed. Likewise, the contents page will be updated as I receive entries. Finally, have fun, and good luck!

Contents
- Intro post
- Too Old, by kazualsk8r
- John is just like any man, by pwnthemonkeys
- Chooser of the Slain, by Dagron
- Free, by a Mysterious Stranger
- Apocalypse Dawn, by Sotek
- Haze, by Cervantes de Leon

Rules
1 - All short stories must abide by both the SC Forum Rules and the FF&RP Rules with regards to content. I know this is obvious, but I don't want to have to disqualify anything.
2 - Your story may be on any subject you choose, and there will be no limiting factors.
3 - All stories must be original. By this, I don't mean you can't submit a fanfic, but that you shouldn't submit something that's already been posted on SC. That'd be lazy!
4 - Your story cannot exceed twelve pages on MS Word, size twelve, Times New Roman. I realise this is still quite long for some people, but this is a short story contest.
5 - Your story must have a title.
6 - Proofread and spell check before submitting. I'll not be held responsible if your story loses because of bad grammar.
7 - Only one submission per member.
8 - In order to keep things fair and anonymous, submission will be via e-mail. Send your entries to me at [email protected], and I'll post them in this thread, sans your name. Once all votes have been submitted, I'll add names into the contents page, so don't worry about me taking credit for your work! On that note, please put your name in your e-mail.
9 - If you want a disclaimer before your story, include it in your submission. Note that disclaimers are only really needed if your story is exceptionally bloody, or you think that it might be borderline inappropriate.
10 - Submissions will be accepted until the 11th of March. Submissions after this date will not be accepted. Nor will ones in April, because that'd be stupid.
11 - Voting will begin on the 12th of March. Anyone may vote, although you may not vote for your own submission. Send your votes to the same address that submissions are sent to. I'll count them, and tell you who won. In the case of a tie, I'll ask a friend who's not on SC if they can judge. Remember to vote for the story you think is best, not the story you think your friend wrote.
12 - Anyone who points out that I've just copied and pasted most of this post from last year will be shot. I'm lazy, okay!

Once again, the e-mail address is [email protected] for both submissions and voting. I'll post stories as I receive them, and I'll check for new ones at least once per day. Also, please remember to include your username in your entry e-mail. Just because I know you on SC doesn't mean that I know your e-mail address!

Submissions are now closed.

Voting is now closed.

Note for next year, give two weeks for entry, and one for voting.

« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 27th 2011 »

Too Old

The alarm cut through his dreams like a siren through the night. He blearily opened his eyes. Another day, more work. But the job wasn't bad, he told himself. There's far worse things he could be doing. Charles Omega rolled out of bed and stood. Stretching, he cleared the last vestiges of sleep from his mind. He walked to the closet for his work attire, a blue shirt and pressed tan slacks. He put them on at his normal pace, punctual, but not overly so. Slipping on his loafers, he grabbed a nutrition bar and walked out of his apartment.
The Government of Children Plaza, or the GOC, was 5 blocks from his house. He walked, rain or shine, everyday. It was easily in the range of a nineteen year old, though he was getting older and feeling the walk more and more. There was a slight drizzle today, but he wasn't concerned. The drying machines would take care of that.
After arriving at his building and going through the dryer, he greeted the building receptionist and traveled to his floor via the high-speed elevator. The door chimed as he entered his office, both alerting his coworkers and clocking him in. He was exactly on time, as per normal. Charles walked to Adilede's desk, the secretary for the floor. He half-smiled at her as he picked up his assignments for the day, and she returned the greeting. Charles turned around and continued to his cubicle, pondering the significance of this exchange. "She is interesting, I must admit,�?� he thought to himself. Charles knew that the chance of them retiring and living together was slim to none, of course. She was but fourteen, still in the prime of her working years. Rarely did anyone work past the age of twenty, so he was pushing his time already. And the selection was random anyway. But one can hope.
The day progressed as any other would. Charles was a retirer, one who approved the mandatory dismissals of workers who were getting old. Old work meant sloppy work, everyone knew that. This again reminded him of his age. Sure, his work was acceptable, he was always on time, never any complaints, but sometimes people just get too old. They have to be dealt with. Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, he came to a file that he immediately recognized. He opened it slowly, disbelief on his face. "CHARLES STEPHEN OMEGA: RECOMMENDATION FOR DISMISSAL" was printed across the top. Below was a summary of all his years of working, his output totals and his time sheets. There were no faults, no red marks, nothing. Nothing out of place besides the title. It had to be wrong.
Charles rose from his chair and walked calmly out of his cubicle, file in hand. He continued this calm walk down his aisle, past the secretary desk, and through the sub-office door to his boss's room. He had become well acquainted with Mr. Fortman, who was seventeen. Mr. Fortman also knew Charles well, and was proud of his flawless record. "Surely he'll fix this," Charles thought. "It must be a mistake."
Mr. Fortman looked up from his papers. "Ah, Charles. Good to see you. How can I help?" Charles stood for a moment in front of Mr. Fortman's desk, composing himself. He calmly gave the file to his boss, who looked over it carefully. "Charles, I'm sorry you had to receive this. I'm not sure this has ever happened, a retirer getting his own file. I am truly sorry."
Charles stared at him. "You mean it's true? Not some sort of mistake? My work is acceptable! I am always on time! You yourself have said I am one of the best in the building!"
Mr. Fortman shook his head. "You know how it is, Omega...we all know how it is. People get too old, they have to go. It's the law."
Charles took his file. "Except in cases decided by retirers. We make the decision for people to keep working. And since it is my discretion, I am resubmitting my file."
Mr. Fortman shook his head. "Hand me the file, Charles." Charles stood his ground. "Hand me the file, Charles," Mr. Fortman repeated, firmly this time. Charles wouldn't budge. "Charles, I'll say it for the last time, hand me the file, or I will be forced to take drastic measures." Charles looked away and took a deep breath. Then, slowly, begrudgingly, Charles handed over his folder. Mr. Fortman reached inside a drawer on his desk, pulled out a red stamp, and quickly pushed it onto the manila paper. When he pulled it away, the red ink was clearly visible. "APPROVED" it stated succinctly. Mr. Fortman looked up at Charles. "It's for your own good. You are free to leave." Charles stared at the angry red stamp. He had done nothing. He had not deserved this. "Charles?" Mr. Fortman said. "Are you ok?" Charles continued to stare at the red stamp. "Hey, cheer up. No more work. Take it easy. Get some rest. You'll come around."
Charles looked back at Mr. Fortman. "He never cared about me," Charles thought. "I'm just another worker...another body in another building...I don't mean anything." Charles turned and walked away from the desk without a parting statement.
"You'll be fine!" shouted Mr. Fortman. "Just take it..." The slamming of the office door cut off his final sentiments.
Adilede looked up from her work. Charles was slowly making his way towards the door. This was curious, he was usually so on-task that she didn't see him all day. As he walked past her desk she reached out and tapped him on the arm. "Charles, what's wrong?" she queried. "Did Mr. Fortman yell at you?"
Charles glanced at her. "I've been dismissed," he replied. Without another word he straightened, took a deep breath, and walked out the door. Adilede shook her head and shrugged. Charles was always very interesting.
Mr. Fortman stared at the door for a long time after Charles' departure. His eyes continued to bore into it as he picked up his phone and dialed the number he'd never thought he'd need. "Yes, this is the CSPF? I need a tail on Charles Stephen of the Omega sector, former retirer. Believed to be unstable. Yes, approved the dismissal myself. Thank you, Art. Yea. Bye." Mr. Fortman set down the receiver and rubbed his eyes. "Not much longer," he told himself. "Another year and I'll get that promotion." Shaking his head, he returned his mind to the work at hand.
"Dismiss me, will they? Well then, I�??ll take my skills elsewhere. The GOC isn�??t the only governing body on the planet. There are others who will respect me for my talents." Charles threw another shirt in his suitcase. He looked back at his closet. All those neat blue and tan outfits hanging in a row. Conformity. Order. Injustice. Unfairness. All those years of slavery for them, and then to be dropped for nothing. Fresh bodies are needed. Old work is sloppy work. HIS work was not sloppy work. "I�??ll show them. I�??m going to Japan."
The man clad in black watched Charles stride out his apartment door. Charles looked up, took a deep breath, and purposely turned to the Travel Terminal. The man in black pushed himself off the wall and began to follow after Charles turned the corner at the next block. "This one should be easy," he thought to himself. "Who does he think he is anyway?"
Charles stepped out of the building and into a world much different than where he had come from. Surrounded by neon and gold, he pondered again which society was better. Charles had never been to Japan before and was taken aback by the seemingly techno-anime luxury that surrounded him, but he was focused on one thing: He must get a job in the Japanese Regime. No , to call it a regime would be mislabeling it. It was technically a representative democracy, with the people choosing the rulers instead of some smart test. But, more importantly, it was run by adults. "Who�??s to say that the Old Order wasn�??t the best order?" Charles thought. "If Japan runs fine this way , why not the world?" He pondered this for another moment, then picked up his suitcase and strode in the directions of the Japanese Center of Operations. This was where he could get his shot. This is where he would be respected.
The darkly-clad man looked on from inside the terminal. Charles had made good time on the tube system. But so had he. He had radioed in Charles�?? departure from the Child Nation before he left, making sure the report actually went somewhere. This man was considered dangerous, now he�??s out-of-country? The man allowed himself a rare smile. Now Charles was a wanted fugitive. He would bring Charles in and get duly rewarded. This day was turning out better than expected.
Charles walked into the Japanese Capitol Building and headed for the President�??s office. Surely he would understand. His talents would not be wasted here. He had stashed his suitcase behind some bushes outside the building. Good thing it wasn�??t raining. Japan my have the right government system, but they weren�??t nearly as technologically advanced as the CN. As he continued to walk, he came upon a set of guards at a narrow doorway. They were wearing dark suits with maroon dress shirts and simple gold chains.
"Good morning sir, can I see some identification?" Charles didn�??t bother with a reply. They wouldn�??t understand his mission. "Sir, I need some identification. This area is restricted." Charles walked on.
"Sir, please stop and explain yourself," said the other guard. Charles stopped for a moment, looked at the second guard, nodded, and continued on through the doorway. The two guards looked at each other, then ran after Charles. He also began to run. The two guards began to yell. "Sir, stop or we will have to use force!" shouted the first one. Charles continued to run. He could see another door with two more guards. If he could just make it. The second guard was gaining on him and was almost within range when Charles feinted to his left and put on an extra burst of speed. The other guards, alerted to the threat and prepared to react, moved slowly down the hallway towards the unfolding drama. Charles closed the distance rapidly. He lowered his shoulder into the chest of one and left him staggering for breath. He turned blasted the other in the jaw with a right hook, but was tackled by the first two guards before he could do any more damage. Chaos reigned.
The guards made short work of Charles, and he was soon cuffed and hauled to his feet. He didn�??t struggle anymore. It was pointless. He had failed. The situation was wrapped up and everyone had started down the hallway when the second door opened. All turned to look.
Jack Li, the President of Japan, leaned back in his chair and put his feet on his desk. He looked like any commoner would: blue jeans, rumpled t-shirt, jet black hair, and scuffed sneakers. He was �??Rule by the people�?? personified. He regarded Charles with dark eyes that had a mischievous glint to them. "Two counts of assault, both felonies. Trespassing on government property, that�??s a felony. Resisting arrest, that�??s got some heavy jail time. Yet you were convinced to see me. Why?"
"I knew you could help me," Charles replied. "You, of all people, would understand my plight."
Jack thunked to the floor and got up to pace. "But what is your plight? What�??s your goal in all this? Why risk your freedom and your life simply to see me?"
Charles gathered his thoughts and sighed. "I, like you, am from the CN. I too have kept my knowledge. My work shows no flaws, even at 19. Surely you must understand now where I�??m coming from?"
Jack nodded thoughtfully. "What do you want?"
"I want a position," Charles stated succinctly.
Jack stroked his chin. "I could give you a position. You are qualified. You have spunk. You�??ve beaten the intelligence curve. And I like you." Charles leaned forward in his chair, daring to hope. Jack continued. "Yes, I could give you a position. IF you weren�??t a wanted criminal."
Charles fell back in disbelief. Wha�?�me? Wanted?!"
"Yes," said Jack. "To award you any position, no matter how small, would be seen as a direct slight to the CN."
"But you yourself evaded capture here! You were elected president! The highest office of this land!"
Jack shook his head. "To be elected to a position and to keep a position are two very different things. I�??m sorry Charles. You really had promise."
Charles stood to speak in his defense, but found that he had none. He was speechless, taken completely off guard. This was not how it was supposed to go.
"I am truly sorry, Charles." said Jack again. "My guards will escort you out.
Charles walked out the back door into a dark alley. So, even in a free country he wasn�??t free. The long-reaching hand of tyranny stretched even to here. He kicked at a paper dejectedly. He had failed. For the first time in his life, he had failed. Charles sadly began to trudge toward the sliver of light at the end of the alley, when a man materialized out of the shadows to his right. Charles stopped and began to back away, on his guard now. The man also stopped and raised his palms, showing that he meant no harm. And then he smiled.
The darkly-clad man smiled. This had been too easy. He had taken Charles to be a much smarter man than this. "Damnant quod non intelligent,"* he whispered. He quickly flicked his wrist and a shiny flash appeared for an instant before a knife buried itself in Charles�?? forehead. A look of surprise came across his face, and his body tumbled to the ground, lifeless. The man went to check the pulse, just to be sure. Charles was as dead as a doornail, and the man reached for his radio. Just another paycheck in the mailbox.

*Damnant quod non intelligent: Latin, "They condemn what they do not understand."

Mr. Fortman walked out of his office and to the secretary desk. Adilede looked up. Mr. Fortman took out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. "I�??m sorry to have to tell you this, Adilede, but Charles had to be terminated."
"Oh, I�??ve already heard," Adilede replied. "He went rogue, didn�??t he? Defected to Japan?"
"Uh, yes, that�??s right. Sad business. Sad," said Mr. Fortman.
"Yes, sad." replied Adilede as she turned back to her work.


« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 1st 2011 »

John is just like any man

Witness John; he is a banker, with a wife and child. He has been a normal man all his life, never fought and kept to himself. That's why they moved to the mountainside, to keep away from all the growling and howls of the city streets, to no longer see people prey upon the weak like animals, but we will see if it was a good idea for them to move from a beast like city to where the real beasts reside. For John will become prey to these beasts they will toy with his emotions before they strike, hope will probably be his only chance to keep himself alive because running will not get him out of the twilight zone.
While John was driving to work he sees a wolf in the middle of the road, John honks his horn to shoo away the wolf, but all it does is look at John. John just stares at the wolf; he doesn't know what to do. They just stare for what seems like an eternity to him. After several minutes the wolf just walks away, and John is left confused.
John returns home after a day at work, he begins talking about the wolf until he sees a body on the ground. He rushes to it and sees that it's his wife. John panicks and calls an ambulance immediately. She was pronounced dead upon arrival to the hospital. The police arrived and begin asking John questions. The questions start to become personal and asked why they were questioning him. They said that since he was the only person home and that there was no sign of forced entry, that he was the prime suspect. He got angry and ordered them to leave his home. Months pass and the police are trying to find if John was indeed the murder, but one day they had enough evidence to obtain a warrant for his arrest. John cannot believe what is happening to him.
John stands trail for the murder of his wife. The trial took many months and during so, John lost his daughter and his job. John was completely broken. As the trail was getting close to the end, John made a closing statement he told the jury that he was not a bad man, he was happy with his wife, and that if given the chance, he would find the man that really killed his wife and bring him to justice. The jury left the room and began to discuss if John was guilty. After four days the jury returns and finds John not guilty. John was jumping for joy when he heard that, but soon he remembered that he has nothing left in his life.

He returns home, saddened. He begins looking through his pictures with him and his family. He in a fit of rage began breaking things in his home. He found his alcohol and began drinking and drinking, he began to cry. John start to contemplate suicide, he was ready to do anything to let his pain go away, until he sees a wolf right outside his window. John didn't know whether or not it was the same wolf he saw months ago, but it did the same thing which was just looking at him. John suddenly forgot about everything and began staring at the wolf, both of them just staring at each other for a long time. The wolf left and John felt better, he didn't know what happened, but he felt like he no longer needed to be angry. John was inspired by that wolf; he began to remember what he said in court and wanted to bring justice to the person that killed his wife. John was ready to do anything; he set up a plan for what he was going to do the next day. He was going to get all the evidence he needs and see if could get him close to finding the real murderer. John spent the next week collecting all of the evidence found at the scene of the crime. He hired several private investigators to see if any extra eyes and ears can get him any closer. For days he spent awake unable to sleep until he found out who the killer was, until one day he gets a call from one of the private investigators, they found someone who knew who the killer was. John was joyful knowing he was, but a single step closer to finally bring the murderer to justice. Join spent the rest of the day getting everything ready, he called his lawyers and anyone of significance.
That night John spent celebrating, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, it was the wolf. He began speaking to it, he told it that without it he could never have found the courage to keep him sane and find the killer. John was starting to get tired, as he closed his eyes and went to sleep a pack of wolves jump into his room and kill him.
And so ends the tale of a man that lost everything, his wife, his daughter, his job, his own life, but that's what happens when you're the prey in the twilight zone.


« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 1st 2011 »

Chooser of the slain.

It is a crisp and cloudless night. The stars shine brightly as I turn round the corner. While I walk through the ruins of this old town, I pull my cloak tight. Boots thump heavily in the accumulated dust. As I reach the steepest part of the slope, I slow down. The cobbles here are crumbling away, and to step too swiftly upon them is only an invitation to be carried away by the scree. Slowly dancing across the astral plane above is a fiery and wavy line of shifting colours, mesmerizing in their rare beauty. The sky seems to be aflame with an ethereal flame and I am forced to look away, to stare at my travel worn feet. In my frustration I tread a touch too heavily on an unstable stone and slip backwards. Falling into a downwards slide, I am very grateful for the thickness of my outer garment. It is a rough ride the irregular paving knocking the breath out of me and bruising my ribs and rump as I scrabble for some form of purchase with unprotected fingers.

At last the movement stops, and I am left gasping for breath. The rawness of my grazed digits makes me all the more aware of just how very cold it is. I stare up at the heavens, my view now holding nothing but the star spangled banner of the northern lights. Once my breathing returned to normal, I choose to remain flat as suddenly a myriad of thoughts that had been repressed choose to assault my mind. Each notion seems to find an echo within the lights above, my anger and despair at my current situation being replicated within a bright red glow that blinks in and out of the dark.

My name is Aesir Wane. I am the eldest daughter from the Wane family, of the Vanir, a clan known for its healers and farmers. I am also on the run from the very people that I love.

Silent tears run down my face as I remember the events that led up to my hasty departure. Were it not for that unfortunate day, I would not be here, in these cold and barren lands. Or would I? I wonder...

I never did fit in, truth be told. Whereas my sisters are all keen to learn to sew and make medicinal salves, and my brothers are passionate about tending to the land and caring for the many boars which compose our livestock and main defence force, I am one for neither. Instead, I have always been one to cause trouble. When forbidden from an area or from doing something, I would always go there or do so anyway. When told to stay in the house and work with my siblings, I would slip away at the first opportunity. When forced to remain, I would rather botch my chores than comply.

Needless to say, I have never been popular with my siblings, with but one exception: twee brother Val. Val is the youngest of my eleven brethren. Unlike the rest of my brothers, he has never shown any sign of developing strength or agility in his arms, and finds himself relegated to the more menial tasks. He is, however, the fastest of the lot when on his feet. Although he has no will to cause trouble on his own, he is often my partner in crime. He once told me that the reason he so readily accompanied me in my antics is because he admires how boisterous and daring I am. I have many of the qualities he wishes he shared. I am as strong as the eldest of my brothers, fast and without fear.

Val is also, for all I know, dead.

I never wanted that. It all started out as just another escapade. Val and I had slipped away from our duties to the local orchard. Having stolen an armful of apples, we went out to the nearby ravine, where we sat and ate while admiring the local wildlife and watching the waterfall. I'm twenty-four, and he's sixteen, and still we talked about both our sets of twin siblings in hushed conspirator voices as if we were ten-year olds. We made fun of the triplets and other three in various immature ways. And then the conversation turned serious...

"So..." Val said. "You thinking about what dad said? About you getting wed?"

I had been trying not to. I disliked the thought of being betrothed to some Vanir approved warrior or merchant, all too similar to my other brother Vaan in my mind, and I disliked the prospect of being expected to obey their word and keep mine. My parents knew that I was not one for being faithful in love, as my dalliances with several lads of the neighbourhood had proven. There was only one thing that I valued above all, even my love for Val, and that was my freedom.

"I've thought enough about it that I know my answer is still no." I replied tersely, chucking an apple core down river. A trout popped out and caught it. "I'm still young. No need for him to harass me about such things yet."

"Anya's only twenty, and she already has two kids." He replied, matter-of-fact. "And you know that the twins Arya and Anis are preparing for their weddings this spring... They're even younger."

I blew a raspberry. I didn't care that my sisters were so keen to be whisked away into their chosen's lives. Though I enjoyed having more of the house to myself than I recalled having in a decade, it hurt my pride to realise how different I was from my sisters. Even my brothers, with one notable exception, were keen to get a family of their own started. Sourpuss Vaan, the only one of us to be a proper warrior, is the only one to not have a girl in his sights.

"So what?" I answered Val. "You saying you want to propose to your Mel' within the year?"

Val turned beetroot red. I was amused. Mel' was a sweet enough girl, though I thought the two ill-matched. I grinned as I saw with what haste Val changed the topic.
"Let's go and see the valley!"

The valley is a part of land at the edge of the territory we of the Vanir claim as ours. It is where battles against those who want to overcome us are fought and where the warriors do most of their exercises. For non-fighters like us, it is considered a no-man's land. We aren't allowed there, which is exactly why we like to go there.

On this occasion, the valley was empty. Few remains are left from the last battle, seven years ago. At the far end, the wooden pikes upon which the heads of defeated foes are displayed have long rotted through, leaving behind a small pile of shredded wood and bleached bone. I could see that nearby a couple of shrubs have taken hold. They are bound to get cut down within the next month, as the warriors do their best to keep this area clear of any cover that could be used by enemy forces. Our people are proud, much preferring to fight our enemies head-on, our chests bare and swords drawn as we ride into combat upon our fierce war-hogs.

"Hey, there's Vaan!" Val's happy exclamation caused my heart to sink. He and Val were close friends, but Vaan and I really don't get along, despite being only a year apart. It took me a moment to pick him out, but yes, he was there. He was standing behind the shrub, alongside his massive war-boar. As Val started running ahead of me to get to our brother's side, I managed to spot him holding his scabbard loosely in his right hand, which I find strange. Usually, when he wears his blue captain's cape, his scabbard stays tied to his waist.

And then I saw what Val, now having slowed down, must've seen as well. Our brother wasn't alone. In front of him was a stranger, dark-haired and dark-skinned. Upon his shoulder rested a raven and his clothes were the rich colour of autumn leaves. Alarm bells ringing in my head, Val turned to me for advice. I signalled for us to approach the two cautiously. We sneaked, bent over, along a stretch of overgrown grass. All the while I was trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The man that Vaan was talking to was clearly of the Areth, a people we have long been on ill-terms with and who were the ones responsible for all the attacks upon our settlement that I can remember. Was this man a spy working for us, or a messenger, bringing us a declaration of war? Or maybe a truce? There was only one way to find out...

We slowed as we neared the shrubs. Thankfully, neither the stranger nor Vaan had noticed us yet. Vaan's beast, Jofur, was used to our scent and unlikely to take any notice of us. The man's bird however... I eyed the pest with evil intent. I could feel it eyeing me right back.

Val and I were close enough now to eavesdrop on their conversation. The stranger loosely held a bow and arrow in his left hand, black gloves covering his arms.

"So, Shura Hoor, it is agreed then? I let your people win and invade in three months time, you collect your spoils and get chased off by me and my men within the week, in exchange you make sure none of your men hurt me or my squad, or speak of this deal with anyone, and you come to me whenever you want to arrange a new raid of our clan's stores and goods."

"It is... agreed." I shivered at the sound of the man's voice. He spoke with the speed and intonation of one unaccustomed to using our tongue, putting too much emphasis on the s sound. "You, Vaan Wane, get to be a hero within your people... and paid richly at that. I Shura... get to have my political enemies slaughtered by your hand, and to control my people... with the medicines that the Vanir wives are so adept at making... thanks to... you."

An audible gasp came from Val as we witnessed Vaan shaking hands with what was now obviously a dangerous enemy. The bird gave a nasty squawk as my youngest brother foolishly stood up.

"Brother Vaan, how dare you! Guards! Guards!!" He was yelling at the top of his lungs as he sprinted back towards the village before I could react. Terrified I looked to the two conspirators to see what they would do.

"What? ...Val, stop!" Vaan's growl was menacing. "Jofur, after him!"

My heart turned to ice as I heard Vaan order the boar after our littlest and dearest sibling. War-hogs are stubborn and powerful beasts. They are not ones to understand the nuance between stopping someone and boring them to death, and they are especially trained to do the latter. Vaan knew full well what Jofur was likely to do to Val after receiving an order like that. As for the stranger...

"No!" I shrieked, as I saw the man named Shura arm his bow and aim at my sibling. "Val, run faster!"

As I said this, Vaan turned to face me with fury in his eyes. His hand reached for his sword, but I wasn't going to let him strike me down. I dashed out of the grass until I could reach my hand through the gap between his left and his right fist. He was already gripping the sword by the hilt. I needed to take it off him before he could get the scabbard off. The raven, seeing this, instantly flew into my face. I swatted it away viciously with my left hand, into my traitor brother's face. I grunted and, Vaan having dropped his blade in an attempt to get the black bird away from him, I managed to grip the sword and slide it out of the scabbard in one smooth movement.

I turned upon the Areth tribesman, but it was already too late. His face a picture of collected calm, Shura Hoor let loose two arrows at once. The shrill whistling of them as they soared past us, the shrub and ahead of Jofur had me frozen in despair. I saw, more than I heard the sickening thud with which both arrows embedded themselves into my adored brother's back. He fell down instantly, like a sack of grain tossed aground. I heard no cry as Jofur caught up and butted his body aside. I could faintly see a commotion coming from the village, warriors from the village and traders finally noticing that something was amok. Too late, I thought. The blood was pumping loudly in my veins as I turned against the archer. My ears filled with the thunder of my rage I swung Vaan's sword at him, only for the blade to meet with its scabbard.

"Oh no, you don't, you -ludder-!"

Shocked by Vaan's use of such an offending word, I stepped back several steps. He came at me, swiping his scabbard this way and that. Was this really my brother? The boy who never swore, even when I stole away his training sword after being told that girls weren't to wield such manly weapons? What of the goody two-shoes, apple of my father's eye?

The raven was in my face again. It was with great difficulty that I managed to whack my brother's scabbard away from my gut. The sword was starting to feel too heavy to wield. Though I had followed Vaan's training with a close eye, I wasn't properly accustomed to fighting an opponent while armed with such a heavy weapon. I wasn't going to last long at this rate. Cursing Vaan and the Areth man, I covered my face with my left arm in an attempt to keep the bird away long enough to see around me.

I could hear shouts coming from behind me, angry voices, amongst which I could hear my father's. They had obviously found Val. The thudding and grunting of Jofur told me that soon I would have the war-hog to contend with as well. Vaan was lunging at me, an evil grin on his face that I had never seen before. As for Shura Hoor...

"No!" I shouted. I could see the red-clad fiend making for the woods, and I hadn't even had the chance to lay a scratch on him.

"Oh yes..." Said Vaan. His scabbard wielding hand latched onto my left arm as the crow scratched and pecked at my head and the back of my neck. The pest was drawing blood... "You were always a trouble maker, Aesir," my brother hissed. "It is time for you to go and join weakling Val in the halls of the dead."

He grunted as he clasped his left hand around my right, squeezing hard. The sword hilt was digging into my palm painfully, as my fingers were crushed. Yet I could not allow myself to be defeated by Vaan. I had only ever lost a straight fight to him when our parents had gotten involved. There was no way I was going to let him start winning now. Especially not after hearing him speak so ill of our most loved sibling, not when he was letting Val's murderer get away without a word.

I saw red. Ignoring the pain in my arms, the raw and deep gouges from the dratted bird's assault, I kicked Vaan hard in the groin. He gasped as he retreated back. My arms free once more, I swung, letting my rage guide the blade. It caught the warrior in the face, travelling across his eye and cleaving his eyebrow in half. Hearing the cry of his boar, I turned to face the forest beast. I leaped as the man-sized animal dove at me. Landing clumsily on Jofur's back, I stabbed downwards. The boar bulked and kicked out in pain, and I was thrown to the ground. I was whole and unbeaten, though the raven still pestered me.

As I stood, I was greeted by an unwelcome sight indeed.

The warriors and traders from the village had finally arrived, but too late did I see how badly they had misconstrued the situation. My father, a wealthy trader, was helping Vaan to sit up and keep a blood-soaked pad on his eye. One of the boar-traders was trying to appease Jofur, whereas the rest, swords drawn, were all facing me. The ice-cold disappointment in my father's eyes, a sight I didn't believe possible in such a compromising man, was too much to bear.

"Demon!" He swore. I had never heard my father swear. "You are no daughter of mine. To use your gift in archery to shoot down your infant brother, and to wound your eldest sibling with his own sword no less, truly you are a witch of the worst sort."

I stared at him, uncomprehending. Taking a step back, I heard the crunch of wood beneath my feet. The fiend of the Areth had dropped his sheath and bow in the grass where I now stood. It was of good make, similar to the one I had been trained on for years. As for the raven, the pest had chosen this moment to sit upon my auburn hear and caw threateningly at the warriors. Apprehension was taking hold of me.

"Men..." Vaan's commander stepped forward, his spear-tip pointed right at my heart. "You are to take her by force, or strike her down. No holding back."

I find it hard now, staring up at the northern lights above from the ruins of an old mountain town, to recall exactly how I survived, how it was that I escaped. I recall many days and nights of constant fleet. Somewhere along the line, I stole a heavy-duty cloak, along with a belt. The latter now holds Vaan's sword at my waist, the blade wrapped in protective cloth. With the former I was able to lose the men that chase me. Among them are former lovers. I hiccup uncontrollably as I feel my tears start to run out. My arms are numb, my stomach empty. As pretty as the sky is, it is of little solace. Besides, the lights are starting to fade.

Gently, I sit up. Spying a ruin that looks less shabby than the others, I stumble to it, drop a bundle of tinder on the floor inside and start a fire. As the flames crackle and jump, I nibble at a morsel of dried meat and bread I also stole. It is as I am just about to fall asleep, tightly bundled in my cloak, with the fire now mere embers, that I notice a shooting star in the sky above. I stare placidly through the gap in the ceiling as the star vanishes.

It is then that a dark shadow arrives. I stand abruptly and grapple for Vaan's sword. It's that dratted bird, I swear it. My face is still scarring from the pecks and scratches it gave me, and I honestly don't know why I still have the use of both eyes. The raven shaped silhouette lands in front of me, the embers glowing in its eyes.

I hesitate. The bird seems bigger somehow, and its plumage is gleaming like starlight.
"What... No. Who...?"

"You are wise beyond your upbringing, Aesir Wane..." The voice is deep, rich and genderless. It is unmistakeable coming from the bird's beak. "Indeed, it is who I am that matters, not what."

"You are not that bird from earlier..." I say warily. I must be hallucinating. My food must have been bad. I don't know whether I want this raven to be Shura Hoor's pet weapon or not.

A cawing laugh spills forth, accompanied by the laughter of other beings. Suddenly, appearing from within the corners of my eyes, are elves and spirits, ethereal beings that spontaneously come out to occupy this ruin with me. The fire springs back to life with sparks and splutters with flames now more akin to the northern lights than anything else.

"No, I am not that bird. The ravens that serve the Areth are simpletons at best, who know no better. No, I am the Morrigan, Mara."

It takes me a moment to place her title. The word rings a bell, and then I recall the tales my father and other traders had brought back from overseas. Morrigan, the name refers to a black raven, the form of a fallen goddess of death.

"Oh." I relax my hold on the hilt, though I do not drop it. The spectres and sprites seem occupied with bedecking the room in ethereal decorations, a table appearing out of thin air above the fire. "And what do you wish of me, Morrigan Mara?"

At the sound of her name from my mouth, the bird shifts and swirls, taking on a new shape. It is not long before I am seated on a stool before her, a woman with star-speckled midnight black hair, flawless white skin and deep, soulful eyes. She smiles.

"No fear? Nice. The question is, do you wish what I have come to offer you?" She claps her hands, and a spectre comes to her side, a very familiar spectre.

"V-Val?"
My sixteen year old brother stands before me, flickering in and out of sight. A sad smile is on his face, and he has lost the uncertain expression that I so associate him with, but it is still him. He is wearing the same clothes as the day he was shot; I can see where the arrows pierced his shirt, small red stains telling me that he did not suffer long.

"Oh Val..." I choke back a sob. My eyes are all red and dried out. I must look a sight.

"I'm afraid that so long as you remain as you are, you will be unable to hear anything Val may want to say. He told me, however, of your character. Based on what he told me and what I see now, I think it likely you will consider my offer." The Morrigan brushes at Val's wispy sand-coloured hair. He looks up to her questioningly. "Fate is a strange thing. Your mother chose to name him Val, which in my tongue mains slain. He has become that. Will you, Aesir of the Vanir, become our spear?"

"Your spear...?" I wasn't aware of that meaning for my name. "What do you mean?"

One of the sprites stands forward, a small child of indefinite nature with butterflies in their hair.
"If, ma'am, you were to become a chooser, you, like lady Mara, will fly over battle fields, choosing between those who live and those who don't. You will be host to the honourable and foe to the undeserving."

The Morrigan continues. "And as I understand it you will have the opportunity to settle a personal matter."

Immediately images of my brother Vaan and that dubious Areth tribe man come to mind.

"There are however..." Mara continues, as she hands me a small parcel wrapped in black. "...downsides." As the sprites and spirits fade away, and the lady turns back into a Raven bird of impressive proportions, she whispers. "Follow me."

-

Vaan Wane, an eye patch covering his right eye, is ready for battle. In the nude but for his cloak and belt, he sits astride Jofur. The boar's speed has dropped since the injury, but its thirst for battle has never been stronger. His sword is drawn and raised high as his men, dressed in a similar fashion, await his signal.

He looks to the sky. The stars are fading away as the sky lightens. It is going to be a horrible day, he can tell. The clouds are brewing a storm, and the sky on the horizon is aflame with red fire. Best make this battle quick.

He looks to the other side of the valley. The Areth forces are gathered there, menacing in their heathen leather armours and shields. However they do not have Vanir cloaks and blades on their side. Their arrows will not pierce his squad's cloaks, nor will their armour and shields resist the bite of their steel, especially with Shura Hoor secretly on his side. His only wish is to have seen his sister Aesir dead before the battle. However his men know their orders.

-

The morning sun is rising as the Morrigan Mara stops. She has led me out of the deserted town, up a slope to a small pond. Within the pond is a swan of great beauty and grace.

"Rota," says Mara. "Here is the daughter of war we spoke of. Aesir, this is Rota, the Norn."

I bow my head and curtsey, unsure how to respond. As the sun clears the horizon, the swan, as the Morrigan did before, morphs into a beautiful woman. Her hair, a soft light blond, and her cheek a rosy sun-kissed pink, pale in front of her eyes, as intense as the sun in their golden glow.

"With you here, I understand that you are considering Mara's offer." The swan lady speaks to me with a soft singsong voice; one that I feel is tainted by sadness.

I nod stiffly, words beyond me. The black package I was given is still unopened, held tightly against my chest. My traitor brother's sword hangs at my side, a heavy weight reminding me forever of my grief.

"There are certain things that happen when one is elevated to the status of chooser. One becomes akin to the elves and sprites, spirits of magic and dead spirits. You will not age, you will be unable to converse with the living as you used to, and, more importantly, you shall not be able to give life in turn. To become a chooser, is to become one of the chosen."

She steps across the water towards me. Small ripples run from the place where her toes tread. Nearby I can see Val, standing near, supportive in his presence. I don't need to hear his voice to know that he will agree to whichever decision I make.

"What do you say then, Aesir of the Vanir? Will your clan's pride get in the way? After all, a chooser takes the fallen from the battle field to the feast halls of the gods, whichever side they are on. Whoever they might be... Friend or foe, to you it should make no difference at all."

I pause a moment, then, my thoughts collected, I answer.

-

The battle takes much longer than Shura Hoor had wished. After the incident with Vaan Wane's siblings, the Vanir guard had become overly cautious. None of Shura's tricks had worked since. Even the measures Vaan has taken seem to have produced lacklustre results. Squads of warriors are clashing everywhere, but none are yet wounded. It is as if their swords and arrows are cursed not to find their mark. He grits his teeth. At this rate, night will fall long before they reach the village. The storm earlier didn't help. The thunder and lightning forced the warriors to remain huddled against the pelting rain. It lasted for the better part of the afternoon. Time is running out. The Areth spy and mage is getting angry.

"By the ancient power..." He mutters angrily as he strokes his raven, Din. "When all else fails: Release the unkindness!"

A black swarm surrounds him as Din caws loudly, her eyes flashing an evil red. She bats her wings once, twice and then thrice. The moment after, the swarm dissipates and Din is no longer alone. A mighty unkindness of crows surrounds Shura Hoor as he grins. He points menacingly to the other side.

"Assault!"
With a flutter of dark feathers and cawing voices, the birds do so.

-

"I will accept your offer. I will become a chooser."

"That's a quick answer..." says Mara. The raven being looks whimsically at me. "You sure?"

"Certain." I continue. "I have no wish to start a family, and I understand that people from both sides of a battle die. However, lady Rota, there is one thing I must know first."

"Yes, ask and I shall answer." She nods sullenly as she awaits my question.

"If I become a chooser, do I get to decide how I will take my chosen?"

A short laugh escapes from Mara's beak, as a smile crosses Rota's face.
"Yes. It does."

"Then let it be done."

Unbidden, I take the black package from my breast and open it. The two choosers watch quietly as I uncover a feather, bronze and scarlet, and with a bridle. Time seems to skip backwards as the sky turns back to the red and gold of sunrise. The wind swirls at my feet as a whiney is heard. I turn to find a magnificent horse, a mare with wings as big as me. Confused, I pet it as it nuzzles at me. I wonder at its nature and name, before noticing the word engraved on the bridle.

"Varg," I read, looking into the horse's soulful eyes. The horse nods then allows me to fit the bridle around its neck. As I do so I feel my very nature change. I am no longer tired, nor am I hungry or cold. The feather too has changed, as suddenly it is no longer in my left hand, now replaced with a winged helmet of similar colours and a winged design. I hold it loosely against my side as I turn to the other two.

I look at them. I no longer think of them as spirits or magical creatures, nor gods. No, instead I see them as...

"So, sister, what shall we call you?"

I smile.

-

All of Vaan Wane's plans are falling apart. For one normally blessed with innate talent and luck, this is an unfamiliar sensation. He is getting chills down his spine which cannot be solely blamed on the rain that soaks his cloak or his lack of other garments. His mane of ginger hair is gleaming with sweat, as again and again he lunges and passes, ducks and dodges. The Areth warrior before him is exhausted, but still he cannot hit him... And Vaan's commander lives on, fighting in amongst a sea of spent arrows, none having found their mark. The setting sun makes the man's energetic movements all the more blatant.

Hearing the cawing of Areth birds, the Vanir warrior looks to his conspirator. At long last, the treacherous mage is keeping to his word and actually doing something practical to take down his commander as per their deal. Vaan looks on hungrily as a group of ravens swarm towards their intended victim, only to be confronted by a new raven, of ludicrous proportions. With one mighty caw the monstrous bird causes the unkindness to turn back, turning most of it literally white with fear. As they rush back towards the one that summoned them, Vaan can hear Hoor swear vigorously. Sensing what is about to occur, he too lets out an oath. Ignoring signals by the commanders from both sides to retreat for the night, he gives an almighty cry.

"No!" He kicks his mount into a sprint. Jofur the boar hurtles as best he can towards the enemy mage, however he is too slow. Shura Hoor is already pulling out his knife in an effort to sway the panicking flock. Blindly, he strikes out at the only bird still of a normal shade. Din gives out an ungainly squawk as she is torn asunder. Her blood speckles her fellows as the uninvited creature, its shape now fluctuating, circles the group and Hoor. The birds thus stained turn scarlet, and it is not long before they turn on their master, giving him his first and final taste of the fate he had intended for the Vanir Commander.

"Witchcraft!" Proclaims Vaan , seeing a face upon and hearing a laugh come from the ravenous apparition. He reaches out for a discarded spear to toss at the demon. It is then that he is tossed without warning from his war-hog's back. He flies far and lands hard. After rolling several feet on the uneven and broken ground, he finally finds his feet. Confused and irritated, he turns to see what caused his mount to bolt so abruptly.

Jofur hadn't bolted. Vaan stares, fury boiling through his veins, at the sight of his faithful companion, skewered by the shaft of an intricately crafted golden spear. The owner of the spear frowns at him with furious sun-lit eyes. It is a woman of astounding beauty, but he cares little for her fair locks, her close fitting white robes or the bracelets on her arms. All he knows is that it was her hand that guided the spear, and he will make her share the boar's fate.

A cry from one of his men alerts him to a new danger, and it is by the breadth of a hair that he manages to counter the sword aimed at his throat. Jumping back a few feet, he looks at his new challenger with a critical eye. Another woman, this time one with a mane of wild auburn curls, a bronze helm and a face that, despite a number of deep red scars, still manages to convey the strength and noble beauty of her features. He doesn't recognise the armour she wears. Her cloak billows out behind her like a pair of red leathery wings. He is now worried.

"Who are you? Why do you interfere?"

"You don't recognise me? Well to answer your question..." The creature before him laughs as she takes off her helm. Now that he can see her face properly, he freezes. Recognition dawns on his features.

"I am the one you used to know as Aesir. My new sisters and I are here as choosers." She points at him with a sword he knows all too well. Until not so long ago, it had been his after all. "I am the Valkyrie, chooser of the slain."

He has heard enough. His will is gone. His plans are shattered and his vanity exposed. His body acts of its own accord. Vaan drops his sword, turns away and runs. He flees, but he is cornered. A winged and crimson horse forces him to dart left. A swan swoops at him from nowhere, turning him away to the right once more. He rages as a woman with the plumage of a raven makes him swerve around only to stop dead.

Before him is a young man, barely sixteen of age. He is loosely holding a short spear that seems to be latched onto the tip of his boot. He gives Vaan a sad shake of the head before closing his eyes and looking away. In one smooth motion, the boy has swung his foot up, driving the tip of his weapon straight through the warrior's heart. As the boy vanishes into nothingness, Vaan Wane falls to his knees, his hand inspecting the wound that remains.

"...Val." He murmurs.

"Yes," comes the Valkryie, Aesir's voice. She stands before him. "And I choose you, Vaan."

He looks up at her, confused by the look of pity and compassion in her eyes. Since when had his elder sister been someone he could look up to? Since when had he not been the one forced to be the good role model? Why...

Why are his men surrounding him, seemingly not seeing his sister who they had wrongly accused of fratricide? Why is his cloak now at his feet, with a head of hair protruding from the neck of it?

The Valkyrie, astride her horse, holds out her hand.

"Come."

-

Fin.


« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 6th 2011 »

Free

Something is wrong with my eyes.

I can see further than usual, and my field of vision is wider. While looking straight ahead, I can see clearly to my left and right in my peripherals, without losing focus on what is in front of me. Yet no matter how hard I strain my eyes, I cannot force them to see my own tongue.

And the colors seem strangely wrong. Shades which I know to be different from one another blend together, so that I cannot tell them apart. Some colors seem duller than usual, others brighter.

And yet everything is so vivid, so clear. I can see details I have never before considered looking for. With my eyes close to the ground, I can see small differences in texture between individual blades of grass.

The overall effect of it all is incredibly disorienting. I feel dizzy on my feet.

In addition to seeing the texture of the grass, I can also feel it. Standing in the grass, I grab a single blade of it with my hands �?? or are they feet? �?? and massage it with my fingers/toes. My touch is delicate, and sensitive enough that I can feel the ridges of the small plant, can feel its sharp but flimsy edge without bending it.

Like the odd changes in vision, the sensitivity of my touch disorients me. I stand on familiar surfaces yet feel them so much more clearly than ever before. It makes me feel uncertain of my footing.

It doesn't help that I'm perched on all fours.

The tail doesn't help, either.

I don't know what to do with it, how to control it properly; these are muscles I am not accustomed to using. I can only manage to twitch it, and every twitch upsets my balance. I have to lean and stumble to compensate for the changes in weight. It is a large bushy thing, and heavier than it looks.

I think I might be a squirrel.

I don't know how I got this way, or why. I'm reasonably sure I wasn't a squirrel yesterday.

Yet today here I am, standing on four furry legs and four clawed feet, my body held mere inches above the ground. With delicate hairs on the bottoms of my paws, heightening my sense of touch. With my eyes high and wide on my head, drastically affecting my field of vision. With my bushy tail dragging awkwardly in the grass behind me.

What else could I be but a squirrel?

Whatever I am, I'm definitely not human anymore.

I'm trying to remember what happened, but there's nothing there. My past is a blank spot in my mind. I don't remember how I got here. I don't even know where I am.

I am standing in the middle of a large grassy field. It is difficult to measure the slope of the ground, being so close to it, but I think I must be standing on a hill, because I can see quite far. The field is dotted with occasional trees, most around the edges, but some closer to me. In the distance I can see human houses in every direction. A park, maybe? A park in the middle of some human neighborhood somewhere? Upon looking around more carefully, I see that there are several benches scattered around the field, confirming my guess: this must be a park.

But it's odd. All the benches, and all the houses, it's obvious that people must come here often. Yet there's nobody here. The park is-

-No, not empty. Not quite. There's a dog. An enormous specimen, all fur and muscle and teeth.

I freeze, and my heart begins to race in silent fear.

Do dogs eat squirrels? I do not know.

I watch carefully as the dog approaches me at a slow trot. I watch for signs of attack, watch its manner, study its pace, and all the while I am trying to remember everything I know about squirrels. Unfortunately, I either don't know much, or can't remember it; I have no idea what my predators are. I don't know whether I am on the menu for the beast that stalks toward me.

The dog lets loose a savage bark.

Immediately, survival instinct kicks in. My body acts without waiting for my mind to catch up. Before I know it, the grass is whipping past me as I sprint for the nearest tree, moving faster than I would have thought my little legs would be capable of carrying me.

Behind me I hear a barrage of ferocious barking. I hear the heavy footsteps of a creature much larger than myself.

A part of me wants to look back and see if it is gaining on me, but my body won't let me. Instinct has seized control of my muscles; instinct pumps my legs like pistons, and holds my tail steady in the air for balance as I run.

I pray I am fast enough; the dog surely covers so much more ground with every stride...

Nevertheless, I reach the tree. I am surprised by how easily my clawed toes grip the tree bark and carry me up the tree, up away from the monstrous predator. I feel my tail swaying to maintain balance as I climb up the trunk of the tree.

I hop onto the lowest branch and look down just as the dog reaches my tree in a blaze of snarling. It stands with its front paws on the tree trunk, glaring up at me with such intensity that I can almost feel its hunger.

"Go away!" I say, only my words come out as a lot of excited chattering. "Leave me alone!"

I feel my tail working beyond my control. The tip of the tail flicks in the direction of the dog, as if waving it away.

The gesture seems to accomplish nothing more than feeding the dog's fury, fueling its determination. Growling, it bares its teeth in a terrible grin, and begins clawing at the base of the tree with its front paws, trying to climb. Tree bark crumbles away under the raw power of the dog's massive frame, but to no avail; it cannot reach me.

Nevertheless, I retreat, scurrying up the tree trunk to a higher branch.

The dog barks at my movement.

I stare down at it in silence, now keeping my body still. Perhaps if I do nothing, the beast will grow impatient and move on.

As I stare down, it stares back up at me, and I feel the heat of its glare tingling my fur. I do my best not to react.

The dog scrapes at the tree trunk a little more, one last attempt to climb, before giving up on that idea. Then, finally, it takes its paws off my tree and sits back on its haunches, still looking up at me, but with less ferocity. It barks again, a roaring explosion of a bark that sends chills up and down my spine. After a moment of silence, the dog whimpers futilely, sensing his dinner has escaped him. It barks one last time, quieter, one last feeble effort. Then it stands up and trots away from the tree. I watch it until it is out of my sight, obscured by the leaves of lower branches.

When it is gone, I climb off my branch back onto the tree trunk and begin a slow descent back to the ground. My body moves with slow caution, slinking down the trunk one careful step at a time. All the while my eyes are working, darting every which way, looking for signs of the dog, looking to be sure it is gone, to be sure this is not some trick to lure me down to it..

When I am about halfway to the ground I spot the beast. It is still moving away from me, trotting through the grass in search of easier prey. I sigh in relief, and a small squeak escapes my squirrel lungs.

It is about this time that I realize my situation. My weight supported mostly by my back legs while my front paws pull me down the tree, I am practically hanging here, upside down on a tree, several feet off the ground �?? a long fall for something as small as I am.

Now that the danger of the dog has passed, survival instinct begins to fade.

I am not used to being in this position. It feels terribly unsafe.

I don't know whether to backtrack up the tree to a branch, or continue down the vertical surface with no choice but to look down. Both options seem equally unnerving.

I freeze, clinging to the tree bark for dear life.

A loose piece of bark crumbles away.

My hind paws lose their grip on the tree.

I react in a frenzied panic, reaching and kicking and clawing and grabbing, desperately trying to reclaim a grip. But the bark broke too quickly and too unexpectedly; I have no time to react.

I focus all of my effort on squeezing with my front paws. If I can just keep a hold on the tree, even with only two paws...
But it is not enough. As the back of my body falls away from the trunk, I cannot hang on. My claws scrape off the bark, and I am falling.

One moment stretches to an eternity as I flail in midair.

My mind races, but I don't know what to do. What would be the best way to land? On my feet? Or would that simply break my limbs? I pinwheel my arms in a blind attempt to catch the tree, or perhaps to fly. To do anything at all except hit the ground, the hard soil which is rising up to meet me. The distance is closing, and I am filled with dread over the impact.

I scream a high-pitched squeak of a scream.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the fall is over. I am on solid ground.

I roll over and scurry to my feet. My heart is racing and I am breathing hard, but I stand relatively unharmed.

The impact was jarring and painful, but not nearly what I expected it to be. By dumb luck or subconscious instinct, I landed with my tail curled beneath me to cushion the fall. As I pant, I find myself very thankful for this awkward, heavy bush of a tail of mine.

If only I could willfully control the thing.

I sit back on my hind legs and look up at the tree, searching for the spot with the bark scraped away. From the ground, the spot doesn't look quite as high up as it did from up there. Still, I turn away, not ready to climb back up just yet.

I may have escaped the fall unscathed, but it's not an experience I'm eager to repeat.

At least the fall accomplished one thing for me: after a very long moment of flailing in the air, I'm beginning to feel more comfortable with my limbs.

I take a few tentative steps before remembering the dog. Is it still around? If it is, it's probably best I stick close to this tree... But I look around and see no sign of it anywhere. Surely it must have found something else to eat by now... surely it has moved on.

I think I'll take my chances.

I am stricken by a whim. But it is more than a whim, it is a desire, a need : I need to run.

So, I run.

I take off at a full sprint, moving as fast as I trust my body to carry me, and then a little faster than that. Grass whips past me. The air flows through my fur like silk, tickling me. The tickling makes me want to run even faster. My pace increases.

I think I am moving faster even than when instinct took over and I fled from the dog.

I am running so fast that my feet can hardly keep up. In fact, they cannot.

A foot lands awkwardly, sending me tumbling sideways with all the momentum of my run. I roll through the grass again and again before the momentum wears off and I come to a stop. Then I roll back to my feet and begin to run again, in a different direction.

I am feeling something I did not expect to be feeling. I have been a squirrel only for a short time, and yet in that time I have had two brushes with death, once from a hungry dog and once from the pull of gravity. I should be feeling gloomy. Paranoid. Overcautious. And yet, it feels as though the close calls have had the opposite effect.

I survived two brushes with death. I'm feeling invincible .

I'm feeling gleeful. Ecstatic. Strong and invigorating, the feeling borders on hysterical.

I'm feeling careless, wild, and utterly free.

So I run. My movement is awkward, as I still don't know how to control my tail. It moves unpredictably, and there's nothing I can do about it, so I just let it do what it wants. The result is that the faster I run, the more frequently I fall over.

I fall over a lot. I roll through the grass a lot.

It's getting the point where I care less about running and more about rolling through the grass, so that my goal is almost to trip and fall and roll.

It occurs to me what I am doing: I am playing .

And I'm thankful to be a squirrel, and I'm thankful that I don't know how to control my tail, because I can't imagine anything more fun than playing around as a squirrel with a crazy tail.



I'm laughing. Only not laughing, but chattering happy nonsense. I am squeaking with delight.

I scamper across the field, changing direction every time I fall, falling every time I try to change direction while running. I'm paying no attention to where I'm going. Sometimes I intentionally try to turn at high speeds, just to make myself fall and roll. I think of nothing while I am running except the next fall, and while I'm falling I think of nothing but the next sprint.

I've never had so much fun in my life.

Until I fall one last time, roll to my feet in a blind tumble, and come face to face with the dog. It is maybe a foot away from me, snarling at me with a mouth big enough to swallow me whole. The beast looks somehow even more muscular, more enormous than before. And yet there is no doubt that it is the same dog. From its savage glare, I know it recognizes me, too.

And I know it is still hungry.

Instantly, fun drains away. Instinct flares.

The next second I am sprinting away from the dog. This is not a carefree sprint, but one carefully controlled by survival instinct. My tail is keeping my body balanced instead of playfully unbalancing me.

I do not hear the sounds of pursuit as before, but surely the dog must be following me. I dare not stop or look back.

My eyes are frantic, looking for the nearest tree, the closest escape. But in my thoughtless play, I ran my way to a bare patch near one edge of the park. There is only one tree near enough for me to have any hope of reaching it in time, and to get there, I will have to cross the paved road that runs along the park. The solitary tree stands like a sentinel in the grassy front hard of one of the human houses that overlooks the park.

With no other choice, I scurry toward that tree.

Can I make it? I still haven't heard any barking, and no heavy, dog-sized footfalls. But surely the beast must be coming. Why would it let me escape?

Still, my curiosity overrules my better instincts. My pace slows just as the sound of my footsteps shifts from the crunching of grass to the clicking of claws on pavement. I stop in the middle of the street and look back.

By my best judgment, the dog has not moved. It appears to be standing in the exact spot it stood before I ran. Its head is turned in my direction, so it is watching me, but it has not given chase.

I wonder why.

My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar but unexpected sound. Bells. I hear bells. They are ringing somewhere nearby. The sound is clear as crystal, and yet I can't decide which direction it is coming from. It seems to be coming from all directions at once.

My ears twitch as I try to listen more carefully. My eyes never leave the dog in the park.

Wherever the sound is coming from, it is getting closer. The bells are ringing louder and louder as they approach me.

But as the ringing gets louder, I begin to detect another sound as well. Much different from the bells.

Cautiously, I tear my gaze away from the dog and look to my left.

I know I should run, but my legs freeze in place, and I cannot will them into movement. They are paralyzed by shock and fear.

On my left side, a car is approaching. I have seen cars before. I have driven cars before; I am comfortable with them. But now, as I am today, this car is transformed into a hulking, roaring metal giant, bearing down on me so fast, all too fast.

I am in the center of the road, and one of the car's tires is headed straight for me. I urge myself to move out of the way, but I cannot find any energy in my limbs. My only hope is that the driver sees me and is kind enough to spare my life.

But it is moving too fast; even if the driver sees me, it will be too late now.

I release a breath in the form of frantic squeaks, because my body will let me do nothing more.

The last thing I see is a wall of black rubber bearing down on me.

The last thing I hear is the ringing of bells.



As I wake, I roll over and slap the snooze button of my alarm clock. The bells stop. I open my eyes and find the bedcovers disheveled from a night of restless activity.

It is a moment before I come to my senses. Then I sit up in bed.

A dream. Perhaps a nightmare? I cannot decide if I am relieved or disappointed to be awake.

I glance back down at the clock. 5:30, time to get up. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and slip my feet into the pair of sandals I keep by my bedside. When I stand up, my joints ache as if from running. I walk to the bathroom and splash water on my face. I look at myself in the mirror, to see that I am quite definitely human.

I have a full day ahead of me. The highlight will be lunch with my son, who I'm sure has only contacted me because he is in some kind of trouble. The time I managed to set aside for him is surrounded by hours of meetings and paperwork and handshakes and bad office coffee. And on top of all this, I know I will have to find time to confront my assistant, the one responsible for the bad coffee, over allegations of sexual harassment.

A sigh escapes my lungs.

I miss my tail.

Moments later, my head hits my pillow.

As an afterthought, I turn off my alarm clock.


« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 4th 2011 »

Apocalypse Dawn

"...and that's how you perform the Heimlich Manoeuvre. Remember, you're not to use this unless there doesn't seem to be any alternative, as it can easily damage the patient's body. Any questions?" Various questions were shouted out, and the lecturer raised his hands for quiet before picking one person at random. "Yes Adam?"
At the back of the room, chin resting in her hands, Neith Maturin was bored. They'd been in here for ages, learning about how to stop people from choking, how to treat a nosebleed, and other such things. Pointless. She'd much rather be sparring with someone in the gym, or even just working out. She knew she was in Thanni's bad books, but still. There should be limits to what he could make her sit through.
"Hey, Neith. Having fun?"
Neith looked sideways at the guy sitting next to her, raising one eyebrow in a "what do you think" expression. Luc was alright, one of the few things that made this course bearable. There was nothing extraordinary about his appearance, but there was something about him...
"Don't worry, it's nearly over."
"Huh."
"Aw, don't be like that. Tell you what, why don't we go get lunch after this? I know a good cafe not too far from here."
It was all Neith could do to keep from laughing. If he only knew who she was, he wouldn't have been nearly so eager to ask her out. Still, he was alright, and it could be fun. Plus it would really annoy Thanni, and that alone made it worthwhile. She nodded. "Sure, sounds fun."
The lecture dragged on for another fifteen minutes. They learned about how to prevent serious bleeding in various different parts of the body. Neith was disappointed at the lack of live demonstrations.
Finally it was over. Everyone piled out of the room in a chattering horde, discussing the class, or their plans for the rest of the day, or some other trivial nonsense. Neith waited for the majority to be out of the way before she even left her seat. There was no rush, after all. When the room was almost empty, she stood and followed Luc to the door.
They left the campus and walked together down the street, laughing and joking. It turned out the cafe was a little further than Luc had remembered, but that didn't matter.
"So there's me, blood streaming down my face and holding a knife, and who should come around the corner but a policeman! It took some explaining to convince him that it was my blood, but not my knife. I can still remember the look on his face. Priceless!"
Well this one was full of surprises. Neith laughed as Luc explained how he had managed to get out of that one, staying quiet about her own past as much as possible. It was a beautiful day, and she was glad that she'd had the foresight to wear a thinner jacket than usual. Dark red and bright new; she had been waiting for a chance to wear it.
When the pair finally reached the cafe they were both starving. They ordered, and Luc continued with his stories, each more outrageous than the last. Finally the food arrived, and there was a break in the conversation as the two of them tucked in.
"So Neith," Luc began once they had taken the edge off their hunger, "Where're you from? You'll have to forgive me for saying that you don't look like you're a local."
Well that wasn't too hard. "Here and there. My family moves about a lot. Spent some time in Israel, I lived in Ireland for a while, and I've even stayed in the west of Russia. Not for long though, it was far too cold. My brother liked it there though."
"You have many siblings?"
"Yeah, three. A sister and two brothers. You?"
"I've got an older brother. Gabe." Luc paused, as though trying to decide whether to continue. Then he shook his head. "I don't really speak to him anymore. He joined my dad's business, and now I hardly ever get to see him." He sighed. Was that a flicker of regret, or resentment? The expression was gone too quickly to be sure.
"But enough about him. What about your family? What do they do?" Clearly he wanted to stop thinking about his brother.
"They're studying, most of them. Irra's ill most of the time, but she still manages to study law without dropping out somehow. Aethon's studying ancient religion, which seems kinda odd for him. And Thanni..." Neith paused, wondering how best to explain what her oldest brother did.
"Hmm?" Luc tilted his head quizzically.
"Thanni's not at Uni. I think he's working, but I have no idea what he does exactly. He's just a tiny bit secretive." Mostly true.
He nodded. "Fair enough. Each to their own, after all."
"So, what now?"
"Well, first I pay for the lunch," he raised his hand to forestall her inevitable protest. "My treat. I insist."
Neith frowned. "I don't like owing people things..."
Luc grinned. "Then can you do something for me later?"
"Depends what it is. I'm not going to agree without knowing what you want, after all!" Neith smiled to show she was just teasing. She found that she was enjoying herself unexpectedly.
"I've been meaning to try out the archery club for a while now, but I don't know anyone who goes. Seems like it could be fun though. If you would do me the honour of coming along as well..."
"Alright," she laughed, "I'll be there!"

They left the cafe and began walking aimlessly. Neith sighed contentedly as Luc slipped his hand into hers. This was going well, to say the least. The longest she'd ever managed on a date before something disastrous happened. Either that or...
"Oh damn. Why now?"
"Neith? What's up?"
She nodded towards the figure that had just appeared around the corner. "Him. This is going to be awkward."
The figure was dressed in black, but other than that he looked fairly ordinary. A little pale, perhaps, and he had his hood up despite the bright sunlight and warm weather. He looked up sharply, eyes glinting with anger, and increased his pace.
"Neith, who is that?" Luc stepped forwards, one hand raised warily in front of him, the other still holding hers.
"It's all right; you don't have to fight him. That's my brother."
Luc lowered his arm, though he was still frowning. "I take it that's not the one studying religion?"
"Nope. That's Thanni. You should probably step back. He looks angrier than usual."
"I'm staying right where I am."
Neith gave a small smile. He sure was stubborn. "Thanks."
They waited in silence as the figure approached. He was taller than he had first appeared, and his skin was not so much pale as bone white. When he spoke, his voice was ordinary enough, although it seemed like there was a whisper repeating his words just beyond the range of hearing.
"Neith." He didn't sound angry, but his expression was one of cold fury. "Why have you got that... man with you? Does he serve some purpose?"
Neith winced. "Sorry, Thanni. We just had lunch, and-"
"Fascinating. I'm sure he knows his way home."
"What!"
The figure glared at Luc, murder in his eyes. "Go home. Or I will make you."
Luc stepped forward, angry now. "Just who the hell-" He stopped as Neith pulled him back. He looked at her, confused.
"Go. I'll deal with Thanni. See you later, Luc."
"...Fine. But I don't like this."
As Luc walked away, glancing back occasionally, he saw Neith grab her brother by the front of his jacket and start muttering angrily right into his face. That was certainly one weird family. Almost as bad as his own.

"Why? Why now Thanni? Aren't we allowed to have fun? It's not like I was going to hurt him or anything!"
"Because he is human. You cannot afford to grow attached to anything so transient. You cannot afford to draw attention to yourself. And stop calling me by that ridiculous nickname."
Neith snapped. That was the final straw, it really was. She grabbed her brother by the back of the neck, with a strength that her build would not have suggested, and literally dragged him off the street and into a narrow alleyway. Once they were far enough in to avoid attracting attention she threw him into a pile of overflowing bins and glowered down at him.
"Fine! Have it your way, Thanatos ! Or are you going to tell me that you don't even want to be called that anymore? We were created as equals, but that's never been enough for you, has it? You might be able to walk all over Aethon, and Irra's not exactly able to resist most of the time, but I will not back down! You don't get to tell me what to do! Understand?" Neith's eyes blazed with anger as she met her brother's gaze, willing him to be the first to look away, to yield. "Answer me, Thanatos!"
There was silence for a long moment.
"...I believe you may have a point. Very well. I shall leave you be for the time being. But if I feel you have drawn undue attention to yourself, I will step in. And if that should happen, rest assured that I shall not back down." Thanatos pulled himself to his feet, wiping bits of garbage from his clothes. "So long, Neith. Good luck with your... endeavours. See you around."
And then he was gone. All that remained was a whisper in Neith's ear, and a vague feeling that she had come out of their confrontation second best.
Still, Thanatos had relented. That was a first. She checked her watch. There were still a few hours before she was due to meet Luc at the Archery range. Plenty of time to find her sister and talk with her for a couple of hours.

Neith found Irra in her flat, wrapped up in a blanket and reading a textbook. She had a hot drink on the table next to her, and there was classical music playing quietly in the background.
Unlike their brother, Irra was merely pale. Her hair was long and white, and tossed all over the place. She looked up as Neith walked in, eyes lighting up with happiness. "Neith! Nice to see you again! What-" she broke off, coughing and spluttering until the fluid was completely expelled from her lungs. She swallowed. "Ugh, sorry. What can I do for you?"
Neith smiled. Her sister might be perpetually ill, but if there was a kinder person in the world she had yet to meet them. "Nothing much," she said, "I just needed to unwind for a bit. Fancy a game of something?"
"Sure! Just let me finish this page, and I'll be ready. Why don't you pick the game and set it up?"
"How does chess sound?"
"I thought you said you needed to unwind, not devise complex stratagems?"
"It comes to the same thing for me. You want to take White?"
"I'm not convinced it offers any advantage, but okay." Irra took a sip of her drink and closed the textbook. She watched as Neith set up the pieces, as speedily as ever. �??Ready?"
"Whenever you are."
"Good!" Irra moved her first piece, a knight. Neith countered by contesting the centre with a pawn, and then the game was in motion. On a good day, the match would have been totally one sided, but today the sisters were almost evenly matched.
"Come on Neith, what's on your mind?" Irra took her sister's remaining bishop with a knight, opening up several interesting moves for the next turn.
"Huh, good move. I'm fine, there's nothing bothering me. Nothing important anyway."
"Come on, I know you better than that! Your mind's off elsewhere, that's for certain."
"Well..." Neith moved a rook randomly, instinctively threatening both of Irra's knights.
"Yes?"
"I had a fight with Thanni."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Guess it's been building up for a while, but still. I was with this guy, and he saw us. Not sure I can salvage that. Don't know if I should try, to be honest. Thanni made some pretty good points, though I'd never admit it to him. I guess... I guess I need some advice."
Irra was silent for a moment, thinking. She moved one knight to cover her queen. "Not meaning to offend, but you haven't had the best of luck with dating in the past, have you?"
"It wasn't a-" Neith looked at her sister's raised eyebrow and sighed. "Okay, I guess it was a date. But I've had good dates in the past! Check."
"Jerusalem, six years ago. You went out for dinner with a guy, and ended up in a gunfight. With the army! Memphis, three years ago. Police raided your date's house just before you arrived. The situation ended up with three officers in hospital. Dublin, last year. A terrorist attack blew up a cafe while you were in it . Your date and seven others were killed. Police are still looking for a red-haired girl in her early twenties who was seen running from the scene."
"All right Irra, you've made your point. Dating humans is a stupid idea and I should give it up." Neith sighed. "Pity. He was a nice kinda guy."
Irra moved her king back one square. "Did I say anything about giving up on this guy? I just want you to be happy with yourself. If you like this guy, then I can't see any reason why you shouldn't go out with him. Sure, you've had some bad luck in the past, but that just means you need to be ready for trouble this time. After all, in anything combat related..."
"Checkmate."
"...you can't lose."
"Thanks Irra. That's pretty much exactly what I needed. You want another hot drink before I head off? I said I'd meet Luc at the archery range."
Irra beamed and nodded. "Please. Berry tea if there is one. Try not to show your boyfriend up too badly at the archery. You know, miss occasionally or something."
Neith smiled over her shoulder as she walked through to the kitchen. "I'll do my best. No promises mind!"

So this was the Archery club. A bunch of students fooling around with weaponry. Some of them were passable, and might make decent archers given a year or two of intensive training, but the majority were clearly there because it was the cool thing to do. Luc was there. His heart clearly wasn't in it though, and his arrows hadn't hit the target once. Neith smiled and took a nervous breath. This was it. This time she would make it work, at least for a while.
She walked quietly up behind Luc and watched closely as he took another shot. The arrow went wide again, and he sighed with frustration.
Neith patted him on the shoulder in mock sympathy. "Not having much luck, are you?" she asked, grinning. The look on his face as he spun around was priceless. "There's no need to look so surprised, mister. I said I'd be here didn't I?"
"Well yeah," Luc began, "but after what happened earlier I wasn't sure you'd show."
"Thanni's a little much isn't he? Don't worry about him though; I gave him a piece of my mind. Anyway, how're you liking the archery?" The wall behind Luc's target was covered in plywood, with arrows sticking into it at every conceivable angle. He grimaced.
"Could be worse, probably. Not sure how though. Everyone just seems to screw around though; there's not a lot of effort put into actually learning archery. Still," he sighed, "most of them can at least hit the target."
"Isn't there an instructor?"
"Nah, the club's run by a couple of students who manipulate the safety rules so they can keep it running. I don't know how they managed it, probably by knowing the right people."
"Have to see what I can do about that. Shame to waste that potential..." Neith muttered under her breath. Then she looked back to Luc. "Right, take your stance again. You're going to learn how to shoot straight."
Luc frowned in confusion, but did as she said. As he readied an arrow and raised the bow, Neith grabbed his arms and moved them into position. He resisted for a moment, but relented when she whispered in his ear, "Trust me; this is how you need to stand."
When he was standing in the right position, Neith allowed him to draw the bow. "Further! Draw it more!" Luc's arms were trembling slightly by the time he got the string far enough.
"Now what?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"Now you hold it like that."
"Oh come on!"
"It'll build your arm muscles up. But I guess there's time for that later. Sight along the arrow, then. Keep your eyes on the target, and when you think you're aiming properly wait a little longer. Chances are you're off target. Breathe out and only then release the arrow."
Neith was still steadying Luc's arms, and holding him in the right stance. He fired, and immediately relaxed. The arrow thudded into the second ring of the target, still a way from the bull's-eye, but a huge improvement over his previous performance.
"I got it!" Luc looked around, eyes bright with excitement. "Thanks Neith! Hey, where did you learn to do that?"
Now that was a tricky one. "Oh, uh, I took lessons a while ago. Apparently I'm a natural or something. Can I have a go?"
"Sure."
Neith took the bow and looked toward the target. It was enormous. This was going to be too easy. No fun at all. She began walking backwards, further and further away from the target, until she was twice as far away as before. That would have to do. Irra might have told her not to show off, but there was just no entertainment without challenge. Not that this would be hard.
"Neith, are you sure? This is a bit far, isn't it?" Luc was behind her, staying safely out of the line of fire.
She smirked. "It's still a bit close actually. That target's far too big." There was no reply. She could imagine his expression as she lined up the shot, half sceptical and half impressed. Before he could think of anything to say, she fired.
"There, a perfect bull's-eye." She handed the bow back, smiling at Luc's stunned expression. "Now, let's see if we can't get you shooting something like that."

Two hours later, as the club was packing up, they left the archery range. The sun had set, but the streets were not yet busy with students out for the night. Luc's arms were visibly shaking, so this time it was Neith who took his hand in hers. He glanced at her and smiled. By the end he had been able to hit the target without her help, although not consistently in the same place.
"That... that was tiring. How long did it take you to get to that level?"
"It took a while," she lied. "Takes a lot of training, that's for sure. It's easier now than it was in the past though. Bows are much easier to draw." Truth again.
"Well that's something at least. I'd never have managed if the thing had been any more difficult. I might have to get some slings for my arms after that!"
Neith laughed and shook her head. "Ah, come on you wimp, it wasn't that bad! You were doing all right by the end there. Another year or two of solid training and you'll make a passable archer!" Luc groaned good naturedly at the idea, making Neith burst into a fit of the giggles. "Hey," she laughed, "what do you want to do now? Get food, go out and party, it's your call."
Luc thought for a moment. "Well," he said finally, "much as I would like to go and have a drink, I feel my arms may drop off if used for anything that strenuous. How about we get food. That way I can recover while the food arrives. What do you think?"
"Sounds like a plan. Where do you want to go?"
"How about- wait. What's this?"
A group of people stepped out of the shadows, although Neith could have sworn that there had been nobody there moments before. The newcomers were dressed alike, each wearing a white and gold mantle which clashed enormously with the surrounding city and added to Neith's conviction that they had come out of nowhere. One of their number stepped forwards. His face was beautiful, perfect even. There was something unnatural about it.
"It is time. The allotted period has passed. This world is still imperfect. We shall try again in the aftermath. Your siblings will be here shortly. All that remains is for the four of you to ride out. You have ten hours until dawn breaks. I suggest you spend them planning a route." The stranger's voice was melodious, like the chiming of a bell. Neith's throat tightened and she griped Luc's hand tighter. He was hanging back, as though hoping the newcomers wouldn't notice him.
Gunfights and terrorists were one thing, but this was too far. Was it too much to ask that she could have a date with one guy without something going horribly wrong? "I- I don't know what you mean," she stammered. Maybe they would go away if she feigned ignorance...
The beautiful stranger frowned. "This is most uncharacteristic. We had thought that you would be the most enthusiastic of the Four. Need we remind you that this is the very reason you were created, War ."
Behind her, Neith heard Luc gasp. He didn't release her hand though, which was something. Perhaps he didn't believe the stranger's words. She looked up into that perfect face, and snarled "No."
"Hmm, now that's an interesting thing right there. War herself refusing the call to arms, if you will. Curious indeed." A new voice spoke up, and Neith saw another figure step from the shadows. He was dressed in brown, tattered clothes, but his gaunt face held a quick intelligence. Neith's anger lessened as she recognised her other brother.
"Aethon! We can't do this! It's not fair to the humans! They're orchestrating Armageddon for their own designs! This isn't how it's supposed to go!" And I've just managed to find a guy I like who, despite the angels in front of him and the presence of at least two of the Four, is still holding my hand.
Aethon smiled, plainly seeing straight through Neith's words. "Well, make your case to the others. I've no objection to putting the apocalypse on hold for another couple of centuries; there's just so much interesting stuff these humans get up to. Plus I have a bet on the races tomorrow, and I don't think the other horses have been eating very well..."
The angel switched its gaze to Aethon, a frown marring its perfect features. "It is not permitted to meddle with the affairs of humanity, Famine. You should know better."
"Ah, come on, don't be like that," Aethon complained, grinning sardonically at the Angels. "It's not like our very existence isn't a kind of meddling, in the strictest sense. The way I see it, that pretty much gives us free reign to do what we like. You didn't complain when Irra wiped out most of the population of London with the Black Death, or when I caused all that suffering in Africa. Not to mention that little disagreement Neith escalated in the early nineteen hundreds."
With a wheezing cough, Irra stepped around the corner. She staggered forwards, leaning heavily on Thanatos' arm. Instead of her usual blanket, she wore a set of thin white robes. "Ugh, sorry we're late. Took us a while to find the way here. Did we miss anything? Oh. Angels. You might have mentioned them Thanni."
The angels looked towards them, and their leader spoke again. "Pestilence and Death. Good. The Four are gathered. Your horses await you in the square at the town centre. We trust there will no more delays. You ride at dawn."
"No!" Neith stormed forwards, eyes blazing. She had let go if Luc's hand, leaving him in the relatively safe company of her siblings. There may have been a way to get out of this peacefully, but she didn't see it. Smashing her hand into the wall of the nearest building, she drew on her very essence and pulled an enormous sword from the fabric of unreality. "I will not go with you!"
The angels seemed unfazed, merely glaring at her with contempt. "You dare to draw your blade against your superiors? So be it. You shall be unmade with the same ease with which you were created." With a flick of his wrist, the leader of the angels summoned a blade of holy fire to his grasp.
"Neith, you're making a mistake. This can still be salvaged without bloodshed. There is no need to fight." Thanatos stepped forwards, hand outstretched to pull his sister back. Aethon caught his arm instead.
"Actually, I don't think it can. You've lived here for as long as the rest of us, do you really want to destroy everything?" Without waiting for an answer, Famine bent to the ground and withdrew the end of a writhing whip. He strode forward to stand at War's side.
Thanatos looked to his other sister, traces of doubt gnawing at his mind. What was the right choice? No blows had yet been struck, so surely there must be a way to salvage the situation. And yet... "Irra. Where do you stand? What should we do? Where must obedience end and personal desires take the fore? This is- I am unaccustomed to making these decisions. My work is usually so clear cut. No morality or doubt. Just me."
Irra smiled up at her brother. "Just do what you think is best. That's what-," she paused, coughing up more fluid before continuing. "That's what I intend to do." Patting her conflicted brother on the arm, she reached into her robes and withdrew an ornate censer which billowed with noxious fumes. As Pestilence approached the angels, she did not look back.
"Damn..." Thanatos whispered to himself. He glanced across at Luc. The human seemed decidedly undaunted by the supernatural confrontation taking place in front of him. In fact, he was almost smiling. There was something odd there. He approached the man, keeping one eye on the building confrontation. "So, you seem happy."
Luc jumped, smile vanishing. Yes, definitely suspicious. "Oh, Thanatos. Didn't notice you there. I don't suppose you can stop all this?"
"Can you not?"
"What?"
"Do not try to be clever with me. You put up with my sister all day, which makes you exceptional among humans. But even the bravest would show more fear than you when the Four begin to clash with the forces of Heaven. Who are you, that you can treat this as an everyday occurrence?" The cold glint was back in Thanatos' eyes, and the full force of it was directed at Luc.
The man laughed. "Who am I? Well, that's a pretty interesting question." He leaned in close to Thanatos and whispered in his ear. One word. His name.
A deep frown furrowed Thanatos' brows. "That would explain things. So be it. Know this, however; should I ever discover that you have hurt my sister, I will find a way to make you die. It could be quick, or slow; excruciating or painless. It will not matter, but you will meet your end."
Luc laughed even louder. "Oh, you strike a hard deal. But I agree! There is something about War that fascinates me..."
"Good." Thanatos turned to the angels, in time to see War leap for them, with Famine and Pestilence a pace behind. Suddenly the decision was simplicity itself. They were created as equals, to work together. He clutched the air, pulling his own weapon from the ether. It felt good to hold it again. After a brief period of contemplation, Death strode forwards to join his siblings in their battle.

War jumped forwards, blade swinging. The leader of the angels parried with his own sword, striking back with a blow that was easily blocked in turn. Back and forth they duelled, while around them the fighting raged. War grinned savagely, drawing strength from the chaos of combat. Gradually she pushed the angel back, until his back was up against the wall. For the first time, and expression other than contempt crossed his face. Surprise. In that split second of distraction, War thrust her blade through his stomach and into the wall behind him.
"You insect!" he spat, white light spilling from his wound. "I'll be back for you! There's nowhere you can hide! We will have our apocalypse, even if we must unmake you all! The Great Plan must be completed!" With a blinding flash the angel disappeared, forced to return to heaven to regain his strength and heal his wounds. War grunted in satisfaction and pulled her sword from the wall.
The battle was close fought. Angles surrounded Pestilence, choking and coughing as she danced among them. Whenever one of them got close enough to land a blow, Famine was there, knocking the holy swords aside with skilful flicks of his whip. Death fought alone against a host of angels. They seemed to be pressing him more than the others, although it took War a moment to see why.
Death lashed out with his scythe, causing a group of angels to jump back. As he attacked, he reached backwards and touched one of his attackers on the cheek with a single finger. Nothing happened, and Death took a sword in the ribs for his trouble. Then War saw the problem. Her brother had never fought an immortal, and so relied on his deadly touch to finish opponents. But the touch of Death is no threat to those who cannot die, and the angels were far too agile to be hit by his scythe.
With an angry shout, War leapt to her brother's defence, striking left and right, angels vanishing in flashes of light with every blow. Soon Death stood alone, leaning on his scythe and gasping for breath.
War ignored her injured brother, looking past him to find more things to kill. The sickly angels surrounding her other siblings were falling now, even their holy bodies no match for the virulent gasses spewing from Pestilence's censer.
Was there nobody else to fight? Was that all? No, there! Standing back from the fighting, another figure. Watching the battle from a distance, arms folded and an amused expression on his face. The insolence! He should be fighting, or running for his life! War hefted her sword and started running towards him. As she ran past, Death gasped something desperately at her. She ignored him again.
As she approached her target, his expression changed from amusement to uncertainty, and then to disbelief. He dodged to the side, eyes wide, somehow avoiding her blow. There was something familiar about his stance, but he wasn't one of the angels. She struck again, a decapitating blow that somehow missed its mark. Unusual. Maybe this would be an interesting fight after all.
"Neith, stop this!" Distraction tactics, though the use of her assumed name was unexpected. She struck again, forcing the man to jump back with incredible agility. "Damn it all, don't make me fight you Neith!" So he didn't want to fight. Coward! That just meant she'd have to work harder! She lashed out with a blindingly fast flurry of attacks, ignoring the frantic voices of her siblings as she focussed all her attention on her opponent.
The man evaded every one of the attacks, a resigned look on his face. "You leave me no choice. Forgive me." There was a deafening crack, and a flare of pure darkness knocked War backwards, sending her crashing to the ground. When her vision cleared, the man she had been fighting was standing taller and holding a long, thin blade of shadows. Black feathered wings grew from his back, furled now, but their sheer size indicated a span of at least a dozen feet.
War shook her head as she looked up at the figure. Finally, a worthy opponent! She scrambled to her feet, struggling as strong hands grabbed her shoulders. The voices of her siblings rang in her ears, begging her to stop. Finally, the battle lust vanished, and she saw her opponent clearly for the first time. Despite the new additions, he was still clearly recognisable.
"Luc... what are you?" Neith stepped forwards hesitantly, shrugging off the hands that held her back. Irra, Aethon and Thanatos let her go, watching in grim silence.
The creature before her dismissed its blade, and bowed apologetically. "Well, at least you recognise me now. Forgive my actions, please. I could not think of any way to snap you out of your frenzy. I am glad that your siblings were able to."
Neith took another step forwards, releasing her own blade. "Fine. You're forgiven for that. Now who are you and why were you impersonating a human?"
Luc gave a rueful smile. "Not going to be dissuaded, are you?" he began, "In my defence, I could ask you the same question. I had no idea you were one of the Four until my brother's minions appeared."
"Answer the question already!" Neith snapped, walking right up to him. She glared, waiting for an explanation.
"Very well. I believe reintroductions are in order." Luc paused, letting the tension build for a moment. "My name is Lucifer," he said, "Lord of demons and Master of the nine circles of Hell. Pleased to meet you."
There was a short silence, broken only by Irra's gasp and Aethon's surprised hiss of indrawn breath. Thanatos did nothing, merely watching to see how his sister would react.
"Thanks. That's all I wanted to know." Neith smiled, then leaned in close and kissed the fallen angel. Wolf whistles and cheering came from the rest of the Four, and she immersed herself in the moment. There would be trouble for this in the near future, certainly, but that could wait. Right now, for the first time in an age, War was truly contented.


« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 8th 2011 »

Haze

Sitting within the scorched, lifeless soil of the wastelands, the eyesore that marked her goal stood before her. The warrior �?? known simply as Haze �?? adjusted the hood of her dark blue longcoat as she looked up to the higher levels of the crumbling tower she had been searching for. Feeling the wind blow an ominous feeling alongside the clouds that completely filled the sky; she sorted her hood, adjusted the weapon hanging on her shoulder and began to make her way inside.

"Honey, wake up! You�??re going to be late for school!"
Hannah�??s eyes slowly opened, adjusting the morning sunlight as she stretched from underneath her covers. Reaching out from under the warm of her bed sheets, she grabbed her mobile phone and flipped it open, observing the time on the main display. Her waking brain finally remembering what day it was, Hannah quickly jumped out of bed, eager to get ready for her first day of secondary school.
"Hannah, you awake?" her mother called out.
"Yeah mom!" Hannah called back. She walked towards the door to head downstairs for breakfast, pausing for a moment as she looked at the uniform that was hung on her wardrobe door. Smiling, she left her room and headed downstairs.
After eating, washing and changing, Hannah stepped outside and began to make her way for school, her hopes high.

As she stepped through the broken entrance way of the crumbling tower, Haze glanced around at her surroundings. The floor she was on was on was filled with fallen pieces of the upper levels, yet none of it contained anything of importance to her. Looking up through the gaps in the roof, she checked for any signs of life above her, seeing nothing initially. Eventually, a sudden flash of dark energy caught her eye in the far distance of the higher floors. Feeling that one instant being a good enough indication, Haze brought her attention back to her level and �?? noticing a collection of rubble that she could use to jump up to the next level �?? began to make her way up the tower.

Staring up at her new school, Hannah�??s excitement suddenly changed to intimidation as the size of the building coupled with the volume of larger pupils that surrounded her. Moving cautiously through the crowds, Hannah began to feel more and more intimidated as several of the older kids began to look down on her with cruel intent in their eyes. As she continued to move towards the front entrance, she felt a sudden shove of a hand on her back, knocking her to the ground as the contents of her shoulder bag fell on to the ground. Looking up for the perpetrator, she could only see a moving crowd, with laughter echoing behind it. Sighing away the last of her excitement, she began to pick up her belongings when she unintentionally placed her hand on top of another. Quickly pulling her hand back, she looked up at the hand�??s owner, seeing a girl kneeling before her. "Oh, sorry. I should have said something first.�?� She said.
"It�??s alright." Hannah responded, "You were just trying to help."
"Don�??t let them get to you, if they see a sign of weakness in you, they�??ll keep going at you until you break."
"Thanks. You seem to know about things here, do you?" Hannah asked.
"Yeah, though I only know through my older brother. First day here." She answered.
"Same here!" Hannah exclaimed.
"I had...figured that out." She rolled her eyes in a teasing manner.
"Hey, don�??t make fun of me!" Hannah yelled, causing her new friend to giggle.
"Sorry. My name�??s Emma." She said, standing up and holding her hand out for Hannah.
"I�??m Hannah." She responded, grabbing her friend�??s hand.

Continuing to make her way up the tower, Haze paused for a moment, sensing something approaching. Ducking behind a pile of rubble, she glanced out slightly as a giant serpent�??s head glowing with a purple aura slithered down to her level. With most of its body still above, the snake looked around �?? Haze ducking back behind cover just as it looked her way �?? before slowly moving back up. Convinced that she was safe to continue, Haze stepped out of cover and jumped up after the snake and, hopefully, to its master.

"Hey, how was the Christmas break for you?" Emma asked, sitting down next to Hannah.
"Great, thanks." Hannah responded, "See the sign-up sheets for the sports teams?"
"I did, yeah." Emma responded, "I am so going to be accepted for the basketball team."
"Definitely. You�??re easily the best in our year." Hannah smiled.
"You�??re pretty good as well." Emma told Hannah, "I think you�??ve got a shot too."
"You think so?" Hannah asked, blushing slightly from the compliments.
"Totally." Emma answered, "We�??ll both go today after school, deal?"
"Deal." Hannah said.
The classes flew by that day; much like most days had done for the past five months for Hannah. The two of them had quickly become the best of friends, growing a strong bond between them as they spent most of their time both in and out of school together. When the time of the basketball tryouts drew near, the two of them were both ready and waiting in the gym halls.
"Want to see how many shots we can make before this thing kicks off?" Hannah asked, holding a basketball under her arm.
"Sure thing. I�??ll go first." Emma answered, suddenly lunging forward and knocking the ball out of Hannah�??s hold, taking the ball for herself and dribbling over to the net. Once she was close, Emma jumped up and threw the ball towards the net, watching as it hit the back board and sunk through the net cleanly. As she landed, her left foot landed awkwardly, causing an incredible amount of pain as her body weight fell on top of it. In a scream of pain, Emma hit the ground, to which Hannah �?? panicking �?? rushed to her.

Jumping up the final pile of rubble, Haze finally reached the highest level of the tower. Landing on the ground in a crouched position, she looked in front of her to see her target; a woman wearing a black dress, high-heeled boots and elbow-length gloves. Sitting before her on a stone throne untouched by the corrosion of time sat the demonic entity that she sought to defeat, smirking at the presence of this travelling warrior. Standing up off of her chair, she took several steps towards her attacker, holding her right arm out as black wisps of energy swirled around it. The energy gathered, growing away from its summoner and forming the snake that Haze had encountered earlier. Haze drew the katana from its scabbard on her trouser belt, preparing to fight both the snake and the enemy known as Ethereal.

Hannah wandered down the corridors of her school alone, her thoughts drifting towards how Emma was doing while she spent some time off to allow her broken ankle to heal. Returning her mind to herself, she sighed as she continued to think over what to do during the lunch break.
"Except for Emma, I never really did make all that many friends, did I?" she realised, unaware of a loose shoelace until unintentionally stepping on it and tripping herself up. Hitting the floor, she felt tears trickling down her face through the mixture of pain and loneliness. As she slowly pushed herself back up, she noticed a hand appear next to her.
"You alright?" the hand�??s owner asked.
"Uh...yeah, thanks." Hannah responded, taking his offer of help.
"It�??s nothing." The boy said. "Just thought you were looking a bit lonely and could use some company."
"I guess so..." Hannah said, averting her gaze as she blushed slightly from his general appearance.
"Is something up?" he asked.
"No, no, it�??s nothing." Hannah replied, "Just my best friend�??s in hospital at the moment."
"You mean the girl from the basketball tryouts?" he asked, "I heard about that, wasn�??t there though."
"Yeah, her." Hannah said, still feeling concern for her.
"Well hey, don�??t let it get you down. She�??ll be back before you know it." He said, placing his hand on her shoulder for comfort.
"I suppose so..." Hannah said, giving a little smile, "Thanks, err..."
"Oh, sorry. It�??s Aaron." He said. "So, anything you wanna do?"
"I�??m fine just sitting somewhere and talking...if that�??s ok with you." Hannah said, feeling nervous about asking in case he said no.
"Sure, why not?" Aaron replied, somewhat to Hannah�??s surprise.

The snake lunged at Haze, who narrowly dodged with a quick sidestep. Haze slashed at the beast�??s body, causing the physical apparition to leak wisps of dark energy, yet barely flinching. Before the serpent could turn its head and try again, Haze jumped on top of the beast and rammed the blade through its head, causing the monster to explode in a blast of dark energy. Haze was blown through the air by the blast, giving Ethereal enough time to conjure up another serpent servant to attack with. The snake lunged at its aerial opponent, grabbing her with its mouth before swinging downwards to slam her through the weak stone ground, causing it to cave in on the floor below. Unfazed, the serpent knocked her down several more floors, eventually allowing her to drop as five floors of rubble dropped along with her.

"Hannah!"
Hannah was surprised to hear Emma�??s voice calling her name. Seeing her waiting at the school gates in crutches, Hannah ran towards her and promptly hugged her friend. "I didn�??t think you�??d be back to school so quickly." Hannah told her, "How�??s the foot?"
"It�??s been better." Emma answered, "Seen worse though, so that�??s something."
"That�??s something then." Hannah smiled. Just as the two of them began to walk in to the school grounds, Hannah spotted Aaron in the corner of her eye.
"Morning Hannah." Aaron called out, noticing Emma�??s presence quickly, "Oh hey, you must be Emma."
"Yeah, I am..." Emma said, unsure of whom this person was.
"Oh, Emma, this is Aaron. We met while you were off and, well, became friends." Hannah explained to her, suddenly dawning on her that she never mentioned Aaron to Emma before. "You don�??t mind him tagging along with us, do you?"
"Of course not, no." Emma said, "A friend of yours is a friend of mine."
"That�??s good to hear." Aaron said, feeling the sense of tension that was filling the air around the trio fade away. "We should probably make our way in then.
"Yeah." Hannah said, following Aaron as they walked through the school gates. Emma held back for a moment, watching Hannah walking right next to Aaron and feeling almost as if she had been replaced during her absence. Shrugging the thought away, she slowly moved onwards with her crutches.

As the dust settled, Ethereal floated slowly down to Haze�??s level, waiting to see if there were any signs of life from her opponent. As she expected, several bricks began to move on the other side of the room, with Haze emerging from underneath them. Smiling at the sight of a worthy opponent, she swung her arms out, dispersing the dark energy all around the room. Haze held her right arm in front of her face as the energy blasted past her and out of the tower, slowly but surely engulfing the entire building. The energy covered the building for several moments before eventually lifting. As Haze stood up, she observed the complete layout change to energy had brought to the tower, now a lot wider with walkways at the sides. Haze observed the open area for signs of Ethereal, seeing no signs of her anywhere on her level, nor what she could see of the upper and lower levels. Haze closed her eyes, holding her left hand over her respective eye as she prepared to use her own unique abilities. Opening her eyes, her left eye had changed from hazel to blue, giving off its own aura. Scanning the area again, she could see the dark aura of Ethereal through the walls seven floors below. Swinging her katana to her side, Haze jumped off the walkway.

Emma walked towards the class by herself, slightly later than she usually was. Even though she was still in time for class, she was more concerned about Hannah not waiting at the school gates for her.
"Is she off sick? Did something happen to her?" Emma wondered as she approached her classroom. As she got to the doorway, she looked in and stopped, seeing Hannah sitting in class with Aaron sitting next to her. Watching the two of them talking and laughing, Emma felt like a knife was being run through her heart repeatedly. She had known that the two had become closer in the past few weeks as her foot fully recovered, but she continually hoped to herself that this wouldn�??t distance Hannah from herself like it was. As she continued to watch, she finally realised how much Hannah was now leaving her alone in favour of Aaron. Turning away, she felt nothing but jealousy and hurt in her heart as she prepared to run away from class.
Suddenly, something appeared before her.
In the corner of Hannah�??s eye, she saw a brief glimpse of what she thought was Emma, before suddenly disappearing in a puff of black smoke.

Appearing before Ethereal, Haze jumped at her opponent, swinging at her with her katana. Dark energy surrounded Ethereal�??s arm, forming a blade for her to block Haze�??s katana with. She swung her arm out, forcing Haze to jump back so she wasn�??t knocked down and left open. Noticing a cluster of dark energy to her right, Haze quickly turned around to block as a giant snake burst out of the wall, bearing its fangs for attacking. The serpent connected with the blade, continuing to move forwards while pushing Haze back with it. Feeling the need for a strength boost, Haze�??s left eye blazed up, allowing her to halt the snake�??s movement before knocking it away with a swing of her blade. The serpent hit the ground, evaporating in to dark smoke. Haze turned her attention back to Ethereal, holding her blade low as she charged at the opponent, a trail of blue energy following from her eye. Anticipating a low strike, Haze made a sudden jump, correctly predicting Ethereal�??s move and counter-attacked with a blow to the head with the hilt of the katana. Ethereal staggered back, dazed as she left herself open for a swift kick to the stomach from Haze. Flying in to the wall behind her, Ethereal has quickly held in place by Haze as she sat against the wall. Looking up at her foe, she could only smile, knowing that Haze could not see what was to come. With no time to react, the wall above Ethereal suddenly moved forwards, slamming Haze in the face and knocking her back. Haze hit the ground, katana knocked out of her grasp as she lay unconscious.

"That�??s three days in a row now that Emma hasn�??t shown up." Hannah thought to herself, concerned as she checked her mobile phone for any new messages. Seeing nothing, she pocketed her phone and looked up to see a police car outside of her house. Concerned, she quickly ran past the car and in to her house, entering the living room to find her mother sitting with two police officers.
"Hannah, darling, could you come here for a second please?" her mother asked, to which Hannah followed while becoming increasingly worried about what was going on.
"I�??m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this," one of the officers began, "but your friend, Emma, has been missing for the past three days now and we need to talk with you to see if you knew anything relating to it."
Hannah was lost for words, shocked beyond belief on the truth of the situation. "She...she ran away?" she eventually managed to stutter out.
"That�??s what it�??s looking like, unfortunately." The other officer explained. "If there is anything you know, anything at all, then you need to tell us now."
Hannah sat in silence, crushed at the thought of losing her best friend.
"Her parents say that you are her closest friend, have you had any contact with her in the past three days?"
"I...I haven�??t...no." she said, her eyes begging to well up with tears. "Why...why would she do this?"
"So she did not appear at school three days ago?"
"No..." she said. Before the officers could ask any more questions, Hannah burst in to tears, running out of the room and upstairs to her own room.

Slowly regaining consciousness, Haze�??s eyesight adjusted to the sunlight that was now emerging from the clouds on the roof of the tower. As she looked t the sky in front of her, feeling herself being held up by the arms with chains s she knelt on the ground, Ethereal stepped in front of her, casting a shadow on her. Seeing her stand before her, Haze tried to fight against the chains, pulling away to try and free herself, but to no avail. She could only watch as Ethereal stepped slowly towards her, her arm reforming the blade from earlier through the use of dark energy. As the blade was held high to deliver the finishing blow, Haze suddenly caught glimpse of the other side of Ethereal within her eyes.
Suddenly, something awoke within her.

A week had passed since the police interview. Hannah lay in bed, her mind full of so much worry for her friend that she had barely been able to sleep. She looked at her mobile phone �?? the fifth time she had done so in the past nine minutes �?? to check for any signs of a message from Emma, only to be once again saddened by the lack of. Sighing, she curled herself up in bed, drying up the tears in her eyes with her bed sheets.
Suddenly, her phone beeped.
Jumping up out of her bed, she picked it up to find a new message from Emma. Ecstatic, she opened it up and read the message.
"Come to the school gate."
Without another thought, she quickly put on a hooded jumper lying on a chair at the end of her bed, slipped on a pair of trainers and ran out of the house and down the street.
Eventually reaching the school gate, she saw nobody standing outside of the school. "That�??s ok; she�??s got to be waiting on the inside." Hannah told herself, continuing to run. As she reached the gate, she stopped. Her heart sank as she looked in to the empty schoolyard. Slowly walking in, her sadness mixed in with the exhaustion from the running as she fell to her knees, tears dripping on to the ground.
"Please...Emma...where are you?" she cried, "Please...come back Emma!"
As she knelt in the schoolyard, she suddenly felt a warming presence surround her. Looking up, she dried her eyes as she saw a pillar of light surrounding her. As it got brighter, Hannah�??s vision went white.

Ethereal stood shocked.
Her blade stopped motionless inches above Haze�??s head, stopped by one of her foe�??s own hands freeing itself from its chains. Throwing the sword away, Haze stood up as she freed herself from the chains on her remaining hand, watching as the dark energy involuntarily evaporated from Ethereal�??s arm. Shocked, Ethereal called one of her signature serpents to her side, quickly prompting it to attack Haze. Walking towards Ethereal, Haze didn�??t flinch as the snake charged at her, holding her hand out to stop the snake dead in its tracks. Ethereal stared as the snake disappeared in to blue energy as Haze walked past with the same coloured glow in her left eye. Ethereal slowly stepped back away from the approaching Haze, firing several shots of pure dark energy at the oncoming threat only to have them swerve away from her at the last moment. Stopping just before the central hole of the tower, Ethereal could do nothing as Haze stopped right before her.
Haze wrapped her arms around Ethereal, hugging her tightly.
Ethereal was shocked beyond all belief as she felt something awaken within her. Suddenly screaming in pain, dark energy burst out of Ethereal, falling down the centre of the tower while fading away. Haze looked at the girl in her arms, smiling as she held on to the unconscious Emma tighter.
Feeling the tower starting to shake, Haze quickly stood up and �?? holding on to Emma �?? jumped down to the next level. Avoiding the debris as the tower started to collapse, Haze continued to jump down floor by floor until she eventually reached the bottom floor. Spotting the exit, Haze charged forwards, grabbing her katana as she passed it and through in to the light that shone through the exit.

Hannah�??s vision began to return to her. As she looked around her, she was shocked to see nothing but blue and white melding together in the distance. "Wh-what is this?" she said, too scared to move.
"Do not be afraid."
"Huh?"
Looking up, Hannah saw a figure appear above her, wearing an open, dark blue longcoat, dark blue jeans and a black bra slightly visible under the jacket.
"You are searching for your friend, are you not?" she asked Hannah.
"You know where she is?!" Hannah exclaimed, a little louder than she intended.
"I do, but I am afraid that it does not look good."
"What do you mean? Is she ok?"
"She has been taken to another world, my word, by a demonic force that is controlling her." She explained, "Merging with a human of your world has made her incredibly powerful. She must be stopped, but I will need your help to do it."
"What can I do?" Hannah asked.
"I must ask you if you would be willing to temporarily merge with me. Doing so would give the two of us the strength needed to free your friend."
"...In that case, I will do it." Hannah agreed.
"I must warn you, there is no guarantee in our success. I cannot promise that I can return either of you home safely."
"I don�??t care about the consequences. I just want her back home safely." Hannah stated, steadfast in her determination.
"Very well." She said, floating down towards Hannah as her left eye began to glow from green to blue. "We shall journey towards the impeding darkness and protect what must be save; my world and your friend."
"Just one more thing." Hannah said as she began to feel their bodies merging together. "Who are you?"
"I suppose that was somewhat rude of me." She replied, closing her eyes as she walked towards Hannah. As the two bodies touched, there was a sudden flash of light, leaving one merged being where two separate beings once stood. As she spoke, the two sides spoke together.
"My name...our name...is Haze."

« Last edited by Sotek on Mar 12th 2011 »

Well people, the votes are in! It's been a difficult task to count the votes, and almost impossible to keep from screaming at the heavens as I waited for spme votes to actually come in. Still, here we are, the results of the 2011 Short Story Contest!

...

Exciting, isn't it?

...

The winner is...

Apocalypse Dawn, by myself. Huh, didn't see that coming.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, a breakdown of the votes.

Apocalypse Dawn, by Sotek - Three votes
Free, by a Mysterious Stranger - One vote
Chooser of the Slain, by Dagron - Zero votes
Haze, by Cervantes de Leon - Zero votes
Too Old, by kazualsk8r - Zero votes
John is Just Like Any Man, by pwnthemonkeys - Zero votes

And that's that. A highly disappointing number of votes, but you can't say I didn't give you time. Ah well, can't be helped. I do hope that all those who entered had good fun writing their stories; I certainly did!

Feel free to post feedback in this thread now. Everyone appreciates a bit of constructive criticism, or even just praise of their work!

Congratulations Sotek! :D
And only 4 votes in total? Ouch.

Anyway, here's my feedback.

- Too Old
=*chuckles* Good start, but Omega is a rather silly surname for the tone of the first few sentences. (Also a 19 year old suffering from what seems to be a case of tired legs when he should be in his prime? Whut?) Drying machines at the entrance of a building sound real cool.
Ouuuh, okay, Omega is his address, not his surname? Might wanna fix that at the start then. (Mr Fortman is a fool btw. Hope he gets his come-uppance.)
That was a fast trip to Japan! (And he got there on the tube??)
Ouuuh Japanese President Jack Li is from the child nation as well? Interesting? (How old is he? Hard to tell.)

For a story that makes a lot of people being retired or terminated at the age of 20, I really don't get the impression that the majority of the population are under-age. Adilede seems too composed for a 14 year old, Mr. Fortman seems quite... unambitious? for a 17 year old, and Jack Li seems to give up on Charles way too easy. Overall the plot is overly weak and too many questions are left unanswered, and some more research into Japan could have helped make it more believable.

That said the whole is written alright, and the man in black seems really interesting indeed. I am left wondering though if he was under 20 or a special case? It could have been interesting to find out more about him...

- John is just like any man
= "hope will probably be his only chance to keep himself alive because running will not get him out of the twilight zone." Eerrrr, WHUT? I, what meaning is this sentence meant to have?
Anyway we get the picture of a rather unambitious, quiet and confrontation-avoiding guy who is about to find himself in an unpleasant situation. Okay.
The style seems a touch too "tell rather than show" which is a shame. It would be nice to see things from John's perspective/voice more than just being told what happens. As it is it sounds like a summary.

Good idea for a plot, just a real shame about the execution. The summary-outline style completely killed all tension or suspense, we never come to care for the banker, and the lack of mystery makes it overall poor. Sorry.


- Chooser of the Slain
= Mine, so me be mute.


- Free
= Oh my. A fascinating start. Confusion reigns and I just want to find out the cause. :D
An absolute pleasure of a read, where we, like the narrator, discover the joys and downsides of life as a squirrel alongside him. Never a boring moment and the flow is perfect.
And when all is revealed, we, just like the protagonist, just want to return to the joyful running about of the carefree squirrel. Hopefully the wee crazy fluff ball made it out okay! *hearts*


- Apocalypse Dawn
= Neith Maturin? I like the sound of that name. In fact I really like all the names.
Nice. A delicious mix of slice of life and mythology, with an appropriate dose of conflict that really suits the characters and a well written twist. Well done!

- Haze
= Fascinating contrast between the school-girl snippets and the darker, more fantasy-riddled ones. The fight is a bit confusing at times, but definitely impressive. *Grins* A touch cheesy, but overall good. The best part of this fic is the split narrative going on in parallel to meet in a very appropriate fashion. Well done.

« Last edited by Dagron on Mar 28th 2011 »

Zero votes? Glad to see I'm keeping with my grand tradition in these contests.

Congrats on winning your own contest Sotek. Pretty close one this year in my personal opinion with some pretty strong stories in general. I'll write up a proper summary when I'm not feeling quite so tired.

John is Just Like Any Man, by pwnthemonkeys - Zero votes

Wow zero votes? Man that's more than I expected. I thought it would of been in the negatives, like the whole internet would of sent mails to you saying that they want to remove their non existent vote from me and send it to everyone else.

Alrighty, time to write up some comments on these stories.

Too Old: Interesting concept, a country governed by children. I would, however like to point out that twenty is a frankly ridiculous age to be retiring people at. Think about it. You are able to start your education at around age four, maybe three if you're a quick developer. You spend seven years learning to read, write and do mathematics. This could be condensed into six years if holidays were removed. The next six or so years (possibly reduced to five if there are no holidays) are spent learning more advanced English and Mathematical techniques. By this time you will be about fifteen, with the equivalent of an A-level/Advanced Higher/IB Diploma in knowledge. This is assuming that you can learn all this without experienced teachers to help you, as they will have at most five years to get used to being a teacher rather than a pupil. And that's just education. Don't even get me started on reproduction and the fact that both your parents will be only a decade and a half older than you. And taking months off (for there can be no holidays) will cut into time you could be earning money.
And yet, this would be fine if it was explained. Pollution in the atmosphere made people age prematurely. The whole thing was a sick experiment to see what would happen in a land with no adults. No explanation, however, and the whole concept is just foolish. The rest of the story was acceptable, if a little fast paced and thin on detail. I would have appreciated more expansion on the setting, or possibly a deeper look into some of the characters.
I apologise for the fact that I seem to have failed to fix the apostrophes.
Also, I'm twenty. I'm still in full time education (University).

John Is Just Like Any Man: I'm not quite sure how to comment on this one. I didn't like it, that's one thing, but I'd like to be more constructive than that. Let's see...
Okay, to start with, you need to be more careful with the tenses. You were pretty good with keeping it in the present tense, but the occasional word slipped past you.
Secondly, the way the story is written seems an awful lot like a summary of events, rather than a telling of them. There are very few, if any, adjectives. It's a prime example of why the "Show, don't Tell" rule exists. Instead of saying "Mark was shot," say "The bullet came from nowhere, thudding into Mark's chest with a spray of gore." Or something. Just keep your sentences interesting to read.
Finally, why was he arbitrarily eaten by wolves at the end? I mean, really.

Chooser of the Slain: Nice concept, very much in your style. Specifically, mocking all my attempts to explain to people why they need to pick one tense and stick to it. This, ladies and gentlemen, is an example of mixing tenses done right. Specifically, the story is written in the present tense, and the first person. The point of view character, however, begins by explaining how she got into her current situation. This requires the use of the past tense, as she is speaking about the past.
As for the plot, I'm not entirely sure that Sura and Vaan thought their plan out very well. It annoys me that all the irritating things about this story are completely justified. Bah!
My one criticism - and I can't even call it a suggested improvement because it was clearly a decision made for effect - is the shift out of first person for the final scene. Yes, it allowed you to get into more of Vaan's emotions, but it also lessened the impact of having a single point of view character. Reading about a character in third person when you've just been inside their head tends to break immersion somewhat, although that's only my opinion.
Overall, very good! Well done!

Free: Now this was my favourite of all the entries. Had I been allowed to vote, this is where mine would have been cast. It's an enthralling story about a squirrel, and has a well proportioned mix of research and content made up by the author. The clash between the idyllic existence of the squirrel and the mundane life of the human is harsh but very well written.
I realise the lack of swords and explosions might make this something that many of you would not usually read, but if that's the case, you just need to read a wider variety of good books!

Apocalypse Dawn: Not bad, but could have done with a bit of polishing. As it's my own story, I can't really comment further than that, but I'd appreciate any comments or criticism that you'd like to give!

Haze: Well, I could tell who wrote this just from the writing style even if I wasn't the one it was sent to! Very distinctive, as usual.
An interesting story, with an interesting concept. It could, perhaps, have done with a little more explanation of how things were happening once the dimentions started contacting each other.
A point I will make about your style in general is that you tend to use a variation on "he said" after every line of dialogue. While this is fine grammatically, you can quickly use up your synonyms and start having to repeat yourself. It's not a problem if there's only a couple of lines spoken, but go back and read the dialogue between Hannah and Emma when they're about to try out for the basketball team and you should see what I mean. I tihnk you need to break the dialogue up with longer paragraphs, or use fewer variations on "she said. Also, you missed out "replied"
But the story was cool. A little confusing near the end, but cool. And I seem to have screwed up the apostrophes for you too. Sorry.

« Last edited by Sotek on Apr 1st 2011 »

I won't spend too long on these, because I can't be bothered reading them all again. Running from memory here.

- Intro post

It wasn't bad, I suppose, but I can't quite shake the feeling that I've seen it somewhere before. Almost definitely plagiarism. Must try harder next year.

- Too Old, by kazualsk8r

Someone's been watching Logan's Run? It's an interesting concept, I'll give you that, but it could have been done so much better with just a little more thought. And possibly an increase in the age limit; hell, even thirty would have been an improvement.

- John is just like any man, by pwnthemonkeys

After I read this, I went out and got drunk to kill all of the brain cells responsible for reading this. It was the only merciful thing to do. Really, I can't tell if you're intentionally being awful or if this is really what a viable contest entry looks like to you. Please tell me it was the first one, because otherwise the English language might just cry itself to sleep tonight.

- Chooser of the Slain, by Dagron

There wasn't anything I didn't like about this. Very distinctive style, excellent description and narration, and you can't really go wrong with a civilization that rides giant boars into battle. Could have done with being a bit longer, though.

- Free, by a Mysterious Stranger

I want to be a squirrel and it saddens me that I cannot. Mysterious Stranger, I hate you.

- Apocalypse Dawn, by Sotek

I felt quite proud of myself when I figured out the (really quite clever) twist, then felt a bit thick when I scrolled back up and actually bothered reading the title. Excellent concept, well-developed characters, and it sets the scene for a very interesting universe. Definitely room for a longfic in here, SUBTLE HINT.

- Haze, by Cervantes de Leon

Interesting concept. I seem to be saying that a lot this year, but it's true. The battle scenes were pretty much what we've come to expect from you; fast-paced, easy to visualise and quite well-written overall. The dialogue felt a bit wooden at times, but it wasn't unbearable.