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 Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 7:27 pm
Dancing across the breeze, a blur of black and white wings passed
by, blending with the grim sweep of Blair Rose. An estate with a
tragic history and a misfortunate tale. Every brick was painted in
blood, every tree whispered of misery, and the very dirt of which
everything took it's nutrients from was soiled with regret. Only the
moth, that took it's rest upon one of the many lifeless grey trees
that overshadowed the gravel road, was animate.
So long ago, Blair Rose had been a beautiful place. The very minute
one stepped onto the estate, the prominent perfume of roses would
tickle their senses, playing the femme fatale of all flowers. From the
gardens, the faint sound of a piano being played was nearly always
heard, each sonnet more captivating and enchanting then the first.
The pianist, a man of twenty five, kept the manor in a most peculiar
way. Not one piece of furniture, save the stool to his piano, could be
found inside the home. He spent every day and every night locked in
the parlor, dedicated to his music, finding himself incapable of
taking his fingers away from the keys. He became so obsessed with his
music, that he shut himself away from the rest of the world. And as
one lonely year passed after the other, he completely lost the ability
to speak. His heart began to yearn for the companionship he never had,
and unable to communicate through words, he expressed himself through
music.
His miserable, broken soul fueled the new music he created. The
roses wilted, the trees died, and all of Blair Rose became a backdrop
for it's master's pathetic existence. The moths moved in, fluttering
about the piano room as they pleased. There were hundreds, thousands,
all crowded into one room. So many that it seemed impossible to see a
thing. The more he played, the more they enjoyed him, and the more
that came, attracted to his sorrowful melody.
One October evening, about the time the leaves began to change, the
man played his last note and fell dead. His head rested upon the keys,
his hand on D flat. And at that moment, each and every moth withered
and died, scattered across the floor like petals. Everything was
untouched, and the estate was never stepped foot on again.
Until they came.
It's actually a series this time. ^^
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 10:22 am
well its a good start. now if only the music you had for the backround was playing to add the suspense... but very good xd
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 3:42 pm
Very, very beautiful. I think I like the first paragraph best. ^^
I really have nothing to say, as for grammar and such. Pacing was great, grammar was awesome, and spelling was fantabulous. (Yes, that is, in fact, a word. According to me, anyhow.)
Anyhoo, the only thing I have to say is that reserving the next five posts or so after the first would have been a good idea so people don't have to go and sort through any pages to find the next chapter. That's seriously the only thing. Everything else concerning this was very, very, super awesome. ^_^
~Melo
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 1:05 pm
Where there is life, death follows...
"This place is huge." Kas said, gaping at the majestic manor that was Blair Rose. From years of abandonment, the pristine marble had turned a sickly yellow and the massive pillars had begun to crumble. The statues of Greek gods that watched like hargoyles atop the roof of the manor were dull and grey, covered in Louisiana moss.
"It is." Myke said, "So big, getting lost is innevitable. Any one who goes in, never comes out. You just wonder around 'till you go mad," then lowered his voice and whispered, "and take your own life."
"Stop it Myke." Kas shrieked, hitting her delicate fist against his shoulder.
"It's just a story." Dawn said monotone. Her arms were crossed under her chest, an indication of her absolute boredom. "And a bad one at that."
"I don't think your qualified to make that statement." Myke teased.
"I don't need a degree in journalism to tell you how bad that story sucked." She said evenly.
The three followed a broken path through a labrinth of dead, barren trees, a thick layer of orange and red leaves crunching under there feet. As they drew closer, the gods seemed to awaken, given life by the breath of the trespassers. Their eyes seemed more acute, their heads a bit higher. The pond in the front of the manor rippled, moved by the chilly October breeze.
They made their way to the back, Myke in the lead. Kas looped her arm through Dawn's using her as a human shield, looking back and forth like a paranoid girl who knew she was in the wrong place. Myke lifted himself onto a high windowsill, careful that his Tripp pants didn't catch, and pulled a screen from it's frame. He crouched, placing his hands on his knees, and peered inside.
"Too chicken to go in?" Dawn asked, her tone hinting at good humor.
"You guys, I don't have a good feeling about this." Kas said, staring at a space between two trees like she'd just seen a ghost. "I think.. I think we're being watched."
Dawn couldn't identify it, but she felt it too. Something about the grounds didn't feel quite right, but she wasn't about to let that ruin her sense of adventure.
"It's empty." Myke said, "Completely empty."
"Well maybe if you went inside you'd find something." Dawn said. Myke gave her a dirty look over his shoulder, hesitated, and jumped inside. As Dawn made a move to follow, Kas held her back.
"Wait, we can't go in there." She said frantically, "I won't, I wont! I won't go in there! Don't go in Dawn, please!"
From out of the bushes came a thin, honey colored dog with a coffee colored patch over his chestnut eyes. He didn't look look starved, but he didn't look nourished either. Ignoring Kas' rants, Dawn got on her knees and cuddled it, unable to resist.
"Hey cutie." She cooed, scratching his ears.
"You guys, come on." Myke said from inside. Dawn stood up and pushed herself through the window, landing on top of a set of massive stairs.
"I'm not going in." Kas said from outside, "I'm not going in!"
Myke and Dawn had stumbled into the foyer, which once been blindingly white, but now dusty and dark. Each step they took echoed down the wide, flourished stair case and around each nook. Four roman pillars were posted at each corner, spiraling high into the ceiling.
"Where do you suppose iti s?" Myke said.
"3rd floor ballroom."
Myke paused, furrowing his brows, "How do you know that?"
"I did a little research." Dawn said, picking at her nails, which were in desperate need of a fresh paint job. Myke gave her a doubtful glance and she added, "There's more to me then just attitude."
"What else do you know?"
"The guy that owned the place was Jerimyiah Flat, you know the one."
"Piano man?"
"That's the one. Anyway, rumor has it that after he died, some others took up residence here. A bunch of weirdos I guess, stayed up all night and slept all day. Doesn't sound too bad to me." Dawn said, shrugging. She pushed open the first door in sight.
Empty.
"They kept to themselves, but technically they were trespassing, and their ritzy neighbors didn't like it. So they literally formed a mob and nearly burned down the house." She pushed a second door open and again, empty. "But when they finally kicked the doors down, the trespassers were no where to be found." She paused, "You know how all the old farts around here are superstitious?"
Myke nodded.
"It's because they think someone still lives here."
"Bullocks." Myke said, "If someone still lived here, it wouldn't look like this."
Dawn pushed open a third door, only to be disappointed once more.
"What are we doing?" Myke asked.
"Just making sure we aren't missing anything."
"What happened to Kas." Myke asked, suddenly realizing she wasn't with them.
"Outside, being paranoid." Dawn said, reaching for another door.
"Thorough, aren't we?", said a voice from behind. Dawn and Myke spun around to see a pale looking woman with skin like cream, the only signs of her age were the crowfeet at the corner of each cloudy grey eye. Her raven hair was pulled into a not at the nape of her neck, where the silver buttons of her black peacoat began. Peaking out from the hem of her coat were a pair of black suede lace up boots with silver eye holes to match. "Well?" She asked.
"Well what?" Dawn said. It was a much a right for her to be here as this black clad woman. Not that trespassing was necessarily a right.
The woman took a step forward, her heels clicking against the dirty marble floor. She slid a finger across the wall, rubbing the dust between her fingers, never taking her eyes off Dawn.
"Ashes to ashes." She said, opening her palm, "And dust to dust."
She blew into her palm, sending the dust flying into Dawn's face. In an instant, Dawn's vision grew blury, but a she tried to regain it, it only grew worse.
Until everything went black.
Author's note: I'm not sure if I should continue this in the epics or not, because that's basically what it's turning into. I have another 40 pages left to type up, so who knows. Don't forget to comment and thanks for reading!
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