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 Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 11:14 am
I'm just going to post random snippets of stories I write, I doubt they'll be in order or make much sense, and I doubt I'll post whole things on here, since they are like 300 pages long. But I have several stories, so there is a key below.
Breeds (Main Character Aspen)
Intrinsic (Main Character Nixie)
Demiurgic (Main Character Phoebe)
Feel Free to Comment
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Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 11:14 am
Prologue:
I’d been trying to find someone. But I failed. I knew it the minute I felt them near. Nearly Fifty, a large number to be sent. I know I shouldn’t use my skill now, because that will alert the others that I’m here, but I need a skill, and so I use my own. The minute I become a Taker, I hear a cry go out as someone becomes skill-less. Shouts are quickly carried through; I hear fast footsteps, orders, and then nothing else past that. I can almost smell their fear, they continue only because they have numbers. And I am only one. The Searchers will find me. I don’t know if they’ll kill the only Taker, but I don’t want to discover the answer. And so I run.
Shoeless, blisters, and scabbing skin is how I take flight, and it doesn’t make me very fast. But I’m invisible to the naked eye, and its dark out. The night provides little light, and for once I’m happy about that. It’s chilly, and eerie, but I’m used to it. I dart between houses, hide behind half collapsed walls, and never stay in one place for more than five seconds. If I keep on running, the Elites may not find me. Searchers rely on scent though, and I’m sure the broken down roads of the village are leaving blood trails behind as the sharp rocks cut into my feet. But I’ve gotten out of worse, and so I run.
Out of shape, and starving, I need breath. I’m not nearly far enough, but I’ll faint if I don’t get oxygen. I lean up against an abandoned home, vines overtaking this dead place. It was a mistake coming here, leaving myself so vulnerable. I know that now. This whole thing was probably just one big trap. I’m such an idiot. I had put my faith in something imaginary. Only a plain fool would do that in this world.
I force myself into a forward motion again, after throwing up beside a crumbling wall. I’ve been drugged. I don’t know how, but I know the symptoms. My stomach rolls, wanting to release the tension again, but I pace forward, my eyes seeming to blur everything, the floor coming to meet me as I black out several times. But I must keep going. I can only think of how thankful I am that I talked my Partner into waiting miles away.
Climbing over a crumbling brick wall, I anticipate my escape. The Searchers are right behind me, but now I’ll lose them in the River a couple feet ahead. The water will rid me of my scent, and be lost to the searchers. Tumbling down, and wincing at the pain it causes my feet; I rush forward, and then stop abruptly. Standing in front of me, in an outline against the moon, is the Elite leader himself, Ruler of this destroyed world. Zorlic.
When Fifty Elites come tumbling over the wall and that one person is standing in my way, that’s when I know I’m doomed.
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Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 11:16 am
Chapter One
“Phoebe Joice, Marcan Steff, and Rhina Clarings come to the front doors for further instructions.”
The sound projects from an unseen speaker on the wall throughout the learning facility. It said my name. A cold chill ran through me. Why was I being called? Did I get another Mark under my name? Did they see me singing last week? I could have sworn I was alone. And then I remembered what day it was.
People getting called down is usually a rare occasion. A rare occasion, except for today. A few selected people, on this specific day –once every five years to be specific- get called down. It’s always the same announcements. The people get up, and leave, and no one knows for certain as to why they are called down. There’s no pattern year after year, at random, girls, and boys are picked. Different heights, different personalities. But one thing stays the same. No one sees them again. Ever. Eventually it’s announced by the Keepers that they have been relocated because they had been academically misplaced. And now that I’ve been called down, I don’t know why, but I feel scared. There was no warning, I felt like I’d been doing okay, so why had my name been projected through the speakers. I didn’t talk to anyone; I gave no evidence of an unsatisfied attitude. I’d learned how to blend in. This isn’t fair.
Anyone in my society should feel completely safe, especially if they were going to a Keeper –the safest people in our community. But I didn’t, and I have no idea as to why.
I notice that my whole body has gone rigid. I also notice that all two hundred people in my class –which is the standard number-, have now all turned to stare at me, frozen as well. Many faces are familiar, but even more are strangers. I know I will see none of them ever again, and I also know I have no control over this. Once the Keepers give you an order, you must carry through with it. There is no resistance, even if there is reluctance. As I looked over the room, I see their eyes, and know that they know they won’t see me either. This is goodbye. Usually people at this time would say farewells to their close friends. I haven’t grown close to anyone, even though I see them every day. I wonder why this is. I also wonder how long it will take for me to be forgotten. I can barely remember a few of the former kids who had gotten called.
I rigidly stand up, and for some reason, even though I know it’s pointless, I pack up my things as I’ve done every day, and file them into my backpack while two hundred people watch me. One of them is the teacher, who now clears his throat. “Best be going now.” He rushes me on. He has an uncomfortable look on his face, as he slightly leans against his desk, but I doubt he even knows what’s in store for me. I look over to him, and he looks down, and starts fidgeting with the end of his shirt, pulling it down slightly, even though it was fine before.
If this is the last memory they will have of Phoebe Joice, then I want to be remembered as strong. I sling my backpack around my shoulder, only through one, even though I’m constantly told to position it in both arms. Then I pull up my shoulders, and push them back, making my neck tall, I jut my chin forward, and out, and begin walking. There are a lot of steps ‘til the exit of the room at the bottom. With each step, I pass new people who stare at me. The room is silent except for my movements, and my breathing, and my heart pounding through my ears. When I reach the bottom, I still have everyone’s attention. I don’t need to look back to know this, I know it just by the feeling. I have everyone’s absolute attention, because I deserve that. I’ll never walk these halls again,I’m the loner now, going down a twisting unknown path. My Teacher finally looks up, and gives a small nod to me when I stop in front of him, I nod back, lowering my chin just a bit, and then strut to the doors, pushing them open with a loud clank which echo’s through the room, over the one hundred and ninety-nine students who didn’t get picked.
The door closes, and I’m left to an empty hall, painted a complete white, with no windows, and nothing but the straight hallway. I release a breath, relaxing my pose, and trying to steady my heart. I want to calm the chills that are now creeping up my back, though I’m perfectly warm, flushed, even. I walk a few steps, feeling rather unsteady. I take one more deep breath, telling myself to calm down. I will not show fear. This is just a change; I’ll just be moved to someplace else. This has happened before. Every four years to be exact. Though it usually happened to everyone when moving to a different school at the correct age-, now it’s just me. Alone. Walking down this white hallway to the unknown.
But with four more steps, I’m suddenly not alone. A jarring click of a noise, sounding rather violet in the silent, fills the hall, ricocheting off the walls to my ears. I look behind me, jumping like a startled grasshopper who’d just been residing comfortably in the grass. A boy with short thick black hair, and pale skin is at the base of the door, just a few feet from where I was. Is he another one of the chosen? His eyes rest immediately upon me, and he jogs forward a few steps, obviously in a hurry. No, he was not one of the chosen ones. His purpose is for me, not to go with me. He doesn’t look scared but urgent. His paleness isn’t from shock, but from natural birth. I don’t know him, I’ve never seen him before, but that’s not shocking. It’s impossible to know everyone that goes to the Learning facility.
As he rushes up to me, I notice he has very blue eyes. It seems silly to notice something so unimportant at a time like this. “What are you doing here?” I manage to ask, I find my voice defensive, strong, and realize that I feel like this should be my special moment, shared alone. He should not talk to me, because he wasn’t chosen, he no longer understands what I’m going through, even though I have no idea myself.
“Listen-“He begins, but I feel confident, and defiant already, something that comes out of me in an unfamiliar situation. Something I’d always had to suppress so I didn’t get scolded, but I felt like it didn’t matter much here in a place I’d never return to.
“Maybe.” I counter with a superior air, and he narrows his eyes at me, as if he’s now considering to go on. Or maybe he’s surprise that I’d spoken back at all. Confidence was not a common thing among students, or the community in general.
“I’m trying to warn you, alright?” He says his voice slightly agitated, as if testing to see if I’ll interrupt him again, I cross my arms. Help me with what? How could he have any advice, or know more than me, or any other student? “Don’t go with the Keepers. They’ve been watching you for a long time. Do not trust them. Run, and I’ll try to find you. I wish I could explain more, but they are already coming for you. I chose you, don’t make me regret it.” He finishes, his blue eyes piercing, pleading, and masked with hardness. I want to ask why I should even be listening to him, or more importantly, what crazy nonsense he talking about, but he turns on his heel, giving one quick glance at the doors on the other side of the hall, then sprints for the door, pushing through, back to the door he came from before I can say a word.
Almost immediately after the clicking of the lock sounds, another clacking comes from the other end of the hall, startling me, so I whip my head around at the noise. In stride four Keepers, un-doubtable in their pure white uniform - form fitting elastic. My calming breaths were all for nothing, as immediately upon seeing them march toward me, narrowing in their eyes on me, my heart triples in speed.
Fight or Flight? Why are their only two choices? I’m not given enough time to think, and my minds racing, which you’d think would help to process things faster, but only creates a jumbling of confusing words, and incoming senses to my mind, resulting in a stalling knot.
Who was that boy, and what was he talking about? No one should discourage trusting a Keeper. I always secretly had my doubts about them, which made me want to believe his words more. But maybe this was a test. I’d had to go through a lot of those when I was younger. I usually couldn’t pass, but now that I’m older, I know what to expect, they expect trust, smiles, and obedience. I know what I should do.
“Phoebe Joice?” A Seeker standing in front of me asks.
“Yes, I’m pleased to meet you. How are you today Keepers?” I ask, my voice practiced, and my words repetitive.
“Well, and you?” One responds
“Good. How can I be of assistance Keepers? Where would you like me to go?” I asked with a smile, ignoring my blazing instincts inside. To pass, I must ignore those, as they have always been wrong in the past.
“Just fallow me.” The same one stated. He was emotionless, having done this, and having received this same uneventful conversation a million other times before.
And so I did. I followed him through the hallways, through the main doors, and out to the Travelers. But then I hesitated. Shouldn’t they have called off the test by now, declared it a success, or given me a new set of questions to answer? But they were silent, and on a mission. They motioned me toward the clear vehicle which had five seats positioned on it. The strange boy’s words came back to me, words that I’d deemed before as just some part of the test. Do not trust them. Run, and I’ll try to find you.
“Phoebe Joice, please seat yourself in the Traveler.” I couldn’t though. I wondered if they would force me to if I didn’t move, if I resisted. I just couldn’t trust leaving my life choices with other people. Nobody resisted the Keepers. Or maybe people did, and were kept secret. I’d always been different. I’d never been good at obedience, or smiles, and especially trust. So I did the most daring thing I had in my life. Something that could get me worse than a Mark. I ran.
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Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 11:18 am
Prologue
I remember the first night they came for me. The start of the hunt. They lit up the fields in a fiery red, choking the breath out of me, and setting off the dryness that spreads from my chest throughout my toes, and face. The cracked hollowed wooden boards carry my lightened weight, proof of my drying out. I wish the air left some moisture for me to drip from, but the only wetness I could conjure was the tears of my caretaker, whom wished for no Intrinsic, but got me anyway.
Left by a moped mudded out hole I was dropped for independence. We are all abandoned at some point, mostly by fear, by whoever had lost their braveness at whatever time those searching had come. The dry air had become my savor, in the irony of that night, clogging up the vision of my predator, so as not to see a withered seven year old girl, gasping, more like a fish out of water, than a drowning worm under the soil.
I eventually learned like all Intrinsic, that our origins are both our saviors, and our cages in itself, without them, no life would ever exist for us alone. And so my waters do not go freely.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 12:52 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 1:07 pm
C : So which one do you want to know more about?
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 1:11 pm
Hidden Affection C : So which one do you want to know more about?
They have tons of potential! It was like a movie in my head as I was reading pretty much.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 4:14 pm
Thanks stranger! Do you write any?
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:31 pm
Hidden Affection Thanks stranger! Do you write any?
And I write poetry, but nothing like your writing.
I think of mine as more of a personal journal/philosophical diary.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:36 pm
Nothing like my writing? I keep a diary as well + Poetry. Maybe you should join this guild, and make a page to share. I'd love to read some, and i'll share some of mine with you.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:38 pm
Hidden Affection Nothing like my writing? I keep a diary as well + Poetry. Maybe you should join this guild, and make a page to share. I'd love to read some, and i'll share some of mine with you.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:44 pm
I totally respect that - I still don't share full stories of mine online, only vague parts, or pieces of chapters. But sure, send me a pm.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 9:59 pm
Hidden Affection
I totally respect that - I still don't share full stories of mine online, only vague parts, or pieces of chapters. But sure, send me a pm.
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 10:03 pm
Well yes, i think all creators dream of that. Otherwise, why would they have a reason to make something if no one was ever going to see it and understand?
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Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2013 10:09 pm
Hidden Affection Well yes, i think all creators dream of that. Otherwise, why would they have a reason to make something if no one was ever going to see it and understand?
I couldn't agree more. Writing is a beautiful art.
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