One of these again, eh? Alright then, I'm a 19 year old from northwestern Canada, I've been writing junk since I could almost spell, and I figured I'd test out the internet and its story holding capabilities. Anything else you wanna know can be found in my real blog, which is linked with the rest of the links. No special treatment just cause it's mine ^_^.
Start with Beginnings
So, why does this even exist? Well, partly bored insomnia, and partly because I found the beginning to a story in one of my old UVic notebooks. So that's what I did in class. Anywho, I thought it may have some potential, so here it goes.
Prologue
The sword slashed at the girl who, cursed by her own stupidity, seemed incapable of stopping the steady stream of noice escaping her mouth. Even in death, she never stopped screaming; there were still strangled moans somehow escaping her throat when she was found, long after death had made the rest of her body cold and hard.
But this is a rare story that perhaps should not start at the beginning. And make no mistake, for everyone except for one unfortunate girl, that was the beginning. It wasn't really the end of anything though; up until that point, a sturdy society with real rules had been nothing more than a dream in the minds of a few. After her death, they were able to take advantage of the fears of many, and fearful hearts are easily led. The society they built on fear shows how much people will give up to feel safe, and how much they can gain with a willingness to leave morality behind.
Chapter 1
600 years later
He felt a deep chill that told him something awful was about to happen. At times like this, he always had the same thought.
I wish I'd broken my leg instead. This came from an old theory he had; many people, after breaking a leg, would swear that it always hurt before rain. He felt a deep pain in his sould whenever something bad was about to happen, leading him to believe that somewhere along the way something had broken in his soul. Sure, it looked fine to the casual observer, but somewhere it was still hurting from long forgotten scars.
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But wait, there's more. That is a beginning from who knows when. I have another beginning from last night, one that may turn into a real story. The other one, I think, is doomed to remain a beginning. Before I start, I will just say that the Charlie mentioned in this beginning bears no resemblance to the Charlie of Terrace. Indeed, this Charlie is a he and he is basically Barry, but with a greater love for fire. On with the very very short beginning to what could be nifty!!!!
"This is not going to end well," I muttered under my breath, shivering as the sirens drew closer. My friends exchanged nervous glances.
"Well, fuck," I heard Charlie say to no one in particular.
But allow me to back up a ways. You see, we're not really bad kids. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The wrong place was the empty rock quarry a short way from town, and the wrong time was right after the fire we had started got out of control.
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So, would you want to read either of those stories? I also have some character profiles for 2 charcters that will be introduced into the second story. If there is any interest, I would love to post them. Byes for now!
posted @ 9:30 AM
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