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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 19, 2005 5:25:37 GMT -5
You liked this one!? d*mn, this was just supposed to be something boring to get out of the way before the story proper could begin!
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 18, 2005 17:57:47 GMT -5
Ow. My wrist is killing me. I can't type that fast and it took me an hour and a half to post this. I'll post Chapter 2 as soon as I get some feeling back in my hand...
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 18, 2005 17:56:08 GMT -5
Part 3 I met Chris at midday as planned, and we started debating things to do. Chris Fisher has been my frien ever since we began school.. He's a small guy with black hair, a cheerful attitude and, for some unfathomable reason, an obsession with trains. He wants to be a train driver when he's older, and as it is, he seems to have memorised very railway line, timetable and track in the country. eventually we decided to have a game of crazy golf. We had a good, friendly game, as he gave me a royal thrashing. He had a lot of experience at crazy golf, as he oiften went down to the park with his friends and had developed a good feel for the holes over the years. Half an hour later we handed back our clubs at the desk and we decided to set out on a bike ride. I had learned some good routes from my dad, who often went cycling with me. "I don't know how you can manage these routes," Chris grumbled as we got on the bikes. "I can never keep up with you... Paul?" I hadn't taken in a word he'd said. Something had caught my eye. A guy from school, Adrian Stillwater was walking across the street from us. adrian was thirteen, like me, but you would never have guessed it. He was as big as most of the guys in fifth year, huge and muscular. Not someone I'd want to pick a fight with, although I'd never needed to. In fact, until a couple of months ago, Adrian had been one of my closest friends. He despised bullies, which was how we'd come to meet in the first place. When I had come into High School, most of the pupils in the upper school took part in something called "gubbie hunting," which essentially involved pummelling every new first year. It hadn't taken them long to get round to me and one day I had fund myself cornered by two fourth years twice my size. I had put up a fight, but at the end of the day I really didn't stand a chance. I ended up pinned against the wall with both hands held behind my back. I definitely would have suffered, but then Adrian saw the fight and had come over to help me. It didn't take long. Adrian single-handedly beat the crap out of both fourth years. After that encounter, one of the bullies transferred to another school, and the other took up charity work and got therapy to help him stop bullying. Not that he rally needed it. After that point, Adrian and I had become great friends. But recently a change had come over him. He had become mody and withdrawn, and didn't seem to have time for anything any more. every time I had called on him or phoned him in the last couple of months, he had just muttered something about "doing other stuff." Almost without realising what i was doing, I mounted my bike and began to follow him. "Paul! What the hell are you doing!?" Chris yelled after me. "Get on you bike and follow me!" I called back, and looked ahead, praying Adrian hadn't heard me. Thankfully he hadn't shown any reaction, and Chris rode up beside me on his bike. "What was all that about?" he said to me in an urgent whisper. In answer, I ponted ahead at Adrian. "Don't you think he's been acting weirdly recently?" I replied. "He never calls, never speaks to anyone, and he spends all of his time shut up in his house." "Yeah, I guess so," Richard replied thoughtfully. But what has it got to do with us?" "I just want to find out what's up," I muttered. We followed Adrian to Mahogany Drive, where he entered Number 39. I felt slightly disappointed. I had hoped to find something explaining Adrian's strange behaviour. "Ah well," I sighed. "Nothing unusual here. want to go biking now Chris?" But now it was my turn to be ignored. Chris' face had gone white, and he was looking from the street name to the number on the house Adrian had entere, then to the alley between Numbers 37 and 39. I followed hs gaze and realised what he was thinking. Then I noticed something else as I looked through the window of Number 39. There was no furniture in the living room. The house was abandonned. "Number 39 Mahogany Drive," Chris whispered. His voice was trembling. "But wasn't this where..." "Tom Grest was murdered. Yeah." I finished for him.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 18, 2005 17:20:20 GMT -5
Part 2 My name is Paul Miller, and that's what the newspaper headline looked like, almost six years ago now. If only I had paid more attention to it, I might not have been where I am now. But I don't regret it. In a way I'm even glad of it, after all, back then I was always fantasising about having some adventure in my life, something to distinguish me from the crowd. I can tell you, I got a hell of a lot more than I bargained for. But I'm getting ahead of myself. When all this began, I was thirteen, in a town called Lossiemouth, in Scotland, and I was happy with my life. Today was Saturday, the week after the schools had started up after the October holidays, and I was reading the paper at the kitchen table, waiting for my Mum to come downstairs. She hadn't been in a good mood since seeing the paper. My Mum had known devena Grest a little and would be going to the funeral. At that moment my dad came through the door. He looked exhausted. He had been working twenty-five hour days since the murders had begun. He was a big man, slightly overweight despite the fact he exercised a lot. He looked at the paper in my hands and groaned. "Hey Dad, have you seen this yet?" I asked. "I've seen it," he sighed. He switched on the coffee maker and collapsed into a chair opposite me. "I don't know what Allan Ross thinks he's playing at. He's made that problem after every murder so far and they haven't stopped yet. You'd think he'd stop talking and start acting." He continued in this vein for some time. My Dad had never got on well with too many of his bosses. Eventually I stepped in. "Don't you think that's a bit unfair?" I said. "After all, I hear Allan Ross has been turning the town upside down to find the killers. the prison cells have never been more full." i don't know why I said things like that. I guess I am - or at least was - a forgiving person by nature. "Being a chief inspector is about more than just organising raids and arresting people," my Dad replied. "You're young. You wouldn't understand." I felt a prickle of annoyance at that. Thirteen is a lot older than some people seem to think. "By the way," dad said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "i think it would be a good idea for yo to go out for a while this afternoon. your Mum's in a right state, I think she needs some time alone." "I've already organised something," I said proudly. "I'm going to meet Chris at midday at his house. Phoned him last night." Dad smiled. "That's good. What are you going to do?" "I dunno, we'll work something out when we get there," I answered. "Anything to get away from Sophie." He laughed at that, but I was serious. Sophie is my little sister. She's ten years old; she has red hair and freckles and, in my opinion, was sent to Earth by the Devil. She seems to define her life by making mine as miserable as possible. In the ten years that I have lived with her, she has annoyed me, nagged me, told stories about me to our parents, rallied her equally annoying friends against me and, when we were much younger, flushed my alarm clock down the toilet. "I'll be back around five, OK?"
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 18, 2005 16:53:04 GMT -5
Chapter 1, part 1 Daily Calling, October 23rd 2004 THE KILLINGS CONTINUE! Just when you thought it was all over, the murderers return with a venegence. After nine murders over the course of eight weeks, all seemingly commited in the late evening or early morning, chief inspector Allan Ross has today confirmed that the night has taken a tenth, yes a tenth, unsuspecting victim to his doom. Thomas Grest (34) was confirmed missing at 3 a.m. this morning, and further investigation into his sudden disappearance has led to confirmation of his death under suspicious circuimstances. When pressed for details about the situation surrounding Tom Grest's death, an exhausted - looking chief inspector Ross responded, "It appears Tom Grest left the Odin public house on foot around midnight last night, according to one of his friends, Sam Aitchinson, but never made it home according to his wife Devena. we know that his death was not accidental, because a pool of fresh blood has been discovered in the alleyway between 37 and 39 Mahogany Drive, which a positive DNA test has proven to be Tom Grest's, but with no body to accompany it. we know for sure he's dead, because no-one can lose that much blood and survive. This situation has murder written all over it. And," he added in a more threatening tone, "we won't allow this to continue. These murders stop with the tenth victim. I don't care if I have to raze this town to the ground to do it, but this whole fiasco stops now!"
Other members of the town wish they shared chief inspector Ross' certainty. The number of people selling their houses in our town in the last two weeks has reached frightening proportions, while others have simply jumped in their cars and fled for dear life. Devena Grest (32), the wife of Tom Grest, has announced to us today that she is selling her house and moving south to Glasgow. In an interview this morning, the tearful Mrs. Grest said, "They've already taken Tom, and I don't want to outlive my children. I'm getting out of this hellhole, and anyone with any sense should do the same.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 17, 2005 11:14:19 GMT -5
*blushes* My story inspiring? Yuh-huh. The whole idea of having difficulty killing someone. I think I'll incorporate that into Wolvesbane. Thx.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 15, 2005 17:08:11 GMT -5
Bl**dy hell. You're good at this. I think I've found a bit of inspiration for my own story.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 15, 2005 16:25:02 GMT -5
The story itself starts off quite slowly I'm afraid. It'll be a few chapters before much action really happens.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 14, 2005 13:13:38 GMT -5
Anyone who posts on the "Writers" thread will probably have seen this coming. Snakefire already knows everything about it, although she's promised not to tell anyone. This is the story I'm writing at home and, after much inner debate, I've decided to post it here. This is the prologue. It may not explain much, but this is just to get you excited so you'll read more:
Wolvesbane
Prologue
Tom Grest walked through the dark, foggy streets. He moved quickly, as he had foolishly only dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, despite the fact it was October. He was in high spirits after his night out drinking with his pals, although he wasn't looking forward to his wife's reaction when he got home at half past midnight. Tom looked up at the night sky, and couldn't help noticing the moon. It was huge, at least half as big again as normal. Tom shivered. He wasn't a superstitious man, but he couldn't help thinking that it was an omen of some sort, especially after the events of the past few weeks. He sped up, anxious to be home, wife or no wife.
About fifteen minutes later, the walk home started to get weird. Tom was beginning to get the feeling he was being watched, even though it felt childish to admit it to himself. He kept hearing - or thinking he heard - very faint, deep throated growling coming from the streets he walked past, and once or twice, he could have sworn he saw the fog ahead of him swirl, as though something had moved through it. He started walking faster, and faster, before long breaking into a jog. But still the growls stubbornly pursued him, almost like dogs on a scent. In fact, Tom realised, the sounds actually seemed to be growing clearer. Any number of things could be all around me, he thought. In the buildings, in parallel streets, even right behind me. As soon as this thought occurred, Tom broke into a sprint, not knowing or caring where he was going, only that he wanted the noises to stop.
Two streets further on, Tom collapsed into a sweating, shuddering heap. A look at the sign on the wall opposite told him that he was in Mahogany Drive. Just two more streets and he would be safe. Tom tried to get up, but his shaking legs failed to support him, and once again he fell back on o the tarmac. Trying once more, he braced himself against the wall, and this time he managed to stay on his feet. Tom set off again slowly, forcing himself to remain calm. He began counting the house numbers. Number 1, Number 3, Number 5... The growls were still there, faint but recognisable. Number 17, Number 19, Number 21... Tom vaguely realised that he was dripping with sweat, not all of it from his sudden flight five minutes ago. Number 33, Number 35, Number 37... At the alley between Number 37 and Number 39, Tom froze. There was no longer any doubt. Something was standing in that alley, just beyond his line of sight. Terrified to go on, but equally terrified to go back, Tom took a few, tentative steps into the alley. The last things Tom Grest was aware of in his life, was a dark shadow dropping down behind him, and four lines of agony being drawn across the back of his head, and then all was blackness.
END OF PROLOGUE
And that, guys and gals, is the prologue of the long awaited Wolvesbane! What do you think?
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 14, 2005 13:54:14 GMT -5
Once again, fantastic. You should get this published, I've read worse stuff off the shelves.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 11, 2005 11:24:09 GMT -5
^... I'm scared...
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 10, 2005 11:23:56 GMT -5
That's classified infomation, but seeing as you wrote Renegade Angel, I might as well tell you. Consider it a reward. I'll send you a PM.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 3, 2005 11:38:06 GMT -5
In Wolvesbane, I'm aiming to make it 40,000 words or longer. It's the first part of a series... hopefully. Majunks, thanks for the tip. And Snakefire, like I said when I PMed you, I LOVE RENEGADE ANGEL!!!! ;D ;D
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Mar 2, 2005 12:52:03 GMT -5
Hey, I've started again, I didn't give up after the first one.
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Post by TheDarkPrince on Feb 28, 2005 15:37:25 GMT -5
I tried to write a fantasy story once. It took me seventy pages to realise it sucked.
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