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Creativity, Arts, Design, and Poetry Creative teenager? Share your art, poetry, and writing in this forum.

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Old 20-05-12, 09:05 PM   #1
 
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Icon12 Random Story...

I find that writing within the creative confines of my soon-to-be novel is tiring and is starting to bore me to death. Because I don't want to be bored with my own story, I decided I might as well just write about stories (any story) as they come to me.
I plan to update this with any writing that doesn't pertain to my novel. This is my writing improvement exercise thread if you will. If you feel the need to give me your critique, give it to me straight and cold. I need it, trust me.

1.Harlander
Harlanders head smashed into the cold pavement. Shit. He clutched at his stomach. His eyes rolled back into his eyelids. Blackness was all he could see. Is this it? A shoe slammed into his stomach. Harlanders fingers curled backwards at the force of the blow.
Argh!
Rough hands grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him from the ground and pinning him against a cold wall. Is this it? He asked himself through shut eyelids. A fist rammed into his chest once again. A bile rose in his throat suddenly, and he coughed. The fist hit his jaw this time, and more of whatever it was that was in his mouth spurted out. This is it huh? I've done all this to die?
The hand sacked him in the jaw once again.
A fleeting image of his father flashed into his mind.
The hand dropped his collar, causing him to drop like a fly. The cold pavement greeted him once again.
Harlander kept his eye shut as the attacker hit him and kicked and stomped him. What would you have done in this situation father? He asked himself through the torture. The image of his father returned to him. His father held his oak pipe from his mouth. He wore the oversized leather duster Harlanders mother had bought him.
He smiled.
The assailants foot found Harlanders nose. Harlanders head snapped back from the impact.
Dad is smiling, he thought.
"Son." His father told him. "If someone ever lays so much as a hand on our family. Lay em out." His father's teeth shimmered through his grin.
The foot stomped down on his hip. Lay em out son...
The hand grabbed his collar again.
"You little punk. You think you can stand up to us." It asked.
Harlander kept his eyes shut.
There was the fist again, drilling into his chest. Harlander opened an eye. The fist hit again.
And smashed into the granite wall.
"Sonofabitch." muttered Harlander from behind the attacker.
The assailant whirled on the spot. Through one eye, Harlander could see well enough. White trousers. Gray shirt. Oversized brown duster. But that's as much as he could make out through his bloodied vision in the tunnel they were in.
The lights flickered on and off from behind Harlander. I know where I am, he thought. He could see the gigantic whole a few meters beside him. The old subway tracks. The vandalism and graffiti. Through his clouded vision, he saw the traces of his blood on the ground.
"Pesky child." said the man. Harlander returned his attention to him. He made a passing realization that the man hadn't moved at all. Harlander bent down and grabbed an old hollow pipe. He kept his gaze even and trained on his assailant. The sound of the short pipe dragging along the ground spread throughout the small tunnel.
Harlander crept toward him.
"Son, its your job to protect our family." said father. Looking down into Harlanders eyes.
"I know dad." he replied, nodding in agreement. Father laughed and smacked Harlanders shoulders.
"That's my son." said Father. "Look, son" he continued "I have to go." His face turned grim. "I won't be back. I've got a couple more jobs lined up."

The pipes soft screech came to a halt as Harlander came to a stop a few meters infront of the astonished man.
"What jobs daddy?" asked Harlander, his expression serene and curious.
Father laughed again and patted his shoulder.
"Daddy hurts people for a living. He makes sure they don't do anything bad to anyone."
Harlander frowns, brushing his brown hair out of his face.
"Why'd did you hurt mommy?" he asked, puzzled.
Fathers face grew angry. He hit Harlander abruptly, square on the cheek.
"I'll hurt you if you say that again!" he spat.

Harlander wiped the blood off of his cheek.
Harlander didn't cry. He sprung to his feet and punched Father in the face.
"Then I have to protect mommy from you!" he yelled back.

Not taking his right eye off of the man, Harlander wiped the dried blood off his left eye.
Fathers eyes widened in rage. He took hold of a branch and hit young Harlander again and again.
Yet young Harlander didn't cry as tears flooded down his cheeks.
"I'll protect mommy from you!" he repeated, yelling twice as laud this time.
At his words, Father stopped beating him and walked away.[/I]
He clutched the pipe tightly and prepared to swing it.
Harlander never saw Father again.
He swung it at the man. His attacker took the brunt of the attack and yelped back in pain. Harlander narrowed his eyes. His hands let go of the pipe. Then, he pulled his sleeves back and stood in the stance his father had tough him so many years ago. Harlander examined his opponent with renewed scrutiny. Small beard. Brown eyes. Oak Hair. Oversized leather duster.
"Bout time huh?" he asked.
Father stared back into his eyes and nodded. He rolled his sleeves back, too.
They circled each other then, their gazes locked.
Harlander made the first move, sending a kick into Fathers chest. He flew back from the impact.
Father attempted to counter with a punch. Harlander was all over that though, and snaked out the way, managing to land another hit on him. Father sent another punch his way. Harlander weaved out of reach, and closed in with another kick before quickly pulling back. That sent Father to the floor.
His father curled up into the fetal position trying to protect himself from any additional blows.
Harlander did nothing and waited until he got back up. And then he sprung back on him again, sending lefts and rights and kicks and punches until his father returned to the ground.
Father attempted to get up, but his legs failed him in his attempt and he found himself back on the ground.
Harlander looked down at him.
With time, his father found his feet. He was greeted by a hard fist by Harlander, right under his jaw.
He dropped like so many flies. Father looked up at him from the ground, his mouth red with fresh blood. He wiped at it. Father managed to put his feet back under him. Harlander launched himself at him once again.
He stopped in his tracks, watching as his father held up a weak finger and nodded. Their gazes locked again. The old bastard reached for his duster, which had flown off of him during the fight.
His hands slid into it. Still nodding, he pulled out his pipe and began to smoke. He slouched down again the wall and regarded Harlander calmly, as though he was pleased. Harlander walked up to the wall and slouched down beside him.
"I don't ever want to see you again." threatened Harlander. "Ever."
Father nodded.
They sat in silence.
About half a minute later, Harlander stood and to began to walk away.
Father never saw Harlander again.




_______________________________



"Life is a kind of game; like chess, a player is often found to be his own worst enemy. The game of chess is decided by who makes the wrong moves at the wrong time. In real life, you owe it to yourself to never make that fatal move of your own volition."
-Me.

Last edited by ChessPi3ce; 20-05-12 at 09:19 PM.. Reason: Fixed some of the italics...
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Old 21-05-12, 03:23 AM   #2
 
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Default Re: Random Story...

Better then the Ugly Barnacle story.

Seriously now. Good show. /monocle








Pessimism isn't a bad lifestyle. If life screws you over, it's just another day. If life gives you a break, it tastes that much sweeter.
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Old 21-05-12, 08:25 AM   #3
 
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Default Re: Random Story...

Thanks, and sorry for some of the Italics as I realize some of them didn't work right...




_______________________________



"Life is a kind of game; like chess, a player is often found to be his own worst enemy. The game of chess is decided by who makes the wrong moves at the wrong time. In real life, you owe it to yourself to never make that fatal move of your own volition."
-Me.
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Old 12-06-12, 08:33 PM   #4
 
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Default Re: Random Story...

2. Frederic
The two guards stood watch over the gateway behind them. With packed rifles, lighted cigarettes and cold eyes, they were ever vigilant in their duty. They both had no experience in security to speak of, but they knew crime like the back of their hand. The man on the right-with the scarred visor, light pistol strapped on his belt, and cigarette butt at his foot, was convicted of grand theft, rape, and attempted murder exactly twenty-three days before being called here. The other man to his right however, has no recorded criminal record, and little information on who he is or what he has done was known.
Their posture straightened on the spot, the man on the right began tapping his trigger.
A small cloaked figure approached them.
The first guard lifted his rifle and threw another cigarette butt on the matted greens grass beneath him. He squished it under his foot as he pulled up his visor to reveal his scared and much abused face, a crooked nose and permanently shut right eye greeted the cloaked figure now three feet away from them.
"What business do you have here?" he asked with a frown.
The cloaked figure took his time answering, "Sub-zero mask."
The two men shared a glance. Then raised their rifles and pressed them at the cloaked mans chest.
"Who are you?" they asked in unison.
"That's not something you need to know."
The thief shoved the man back with the tip of his weapon.
"Your being held at gunpoint, and you still refuse to identify yourself?"
The man replied in calm tone "You hold a man at gunpoint, and you refuse to let him pass?"
The two men shared a second glance, this one of confusion. Grudgingly, one of the men moved aside "Let him pass." he ordered. The other guard slowly moved out of the way, but kept his sights aimed at the man's head. "Let him pass!" the convict repeated. The second guard dropped his weapon down to his side and moved out of the way.
"Thanks." said the cloaked figure as he trudged past them.
Frederic frowned under his cloak, those were not the guards he remembered seeing there. They even went as far as to have threatened him at gunpoint! He would definitely question the Commander when he he saw him. He walked up the stairs with haste, and stopped when he reached the door. He bit his lip nervously and awaited the opening of the door. The snow whipped down on his cloak, covering him with flakes in few seconds time.
But Frederic didn't feel the cold. He never did, even if he wanted to.
Being a Phoenix does that to you, he thought.
He watched a single pellet of snow tumble down from the slate-grey sky and finally fall on his palm. His heart began pounding against his chest. His breath was short and his head was in a fit of confusion. Do I want to be here? Was retaking the pledge a good idea? He remembered Elle's expression when he told her he did.
"You realize that by doing that, you're gonna have to keep fighting right? You do realize that you'll never be able to go back now?" Elle had said.
The snow continued to fall, but the snowstorm had subsided. Was he doing the right thing? She was right, he'd never be able to go back now. He'll have to fight, and keep fighting. I won't be able to be normal again. I'll have the responsibility of this town's protection on my back. I'll be used as a human weapon in this war. In this rebellion. A snow flake fell into his eye. He wiped his eye and willed back the urge to cry. The door flew open.
"Who do we have here?" asked Rain.
He pulled back his cloak, "Just me."
Rain smiled, yanked him into the house and passed a hand over his head in relief.
"We thougt you were-"
"Dead?" finished Frederic. Rain nodded and examined him . Frederic took off his cloak and placed it on one of the arm chairs. He said "Well, you wouldn't be the first one to think that." He threw off his shirt and grabbed the badge that awaited him on the table.
"You took the pledge?"
"What about it?"
Rain grew angry "Your only a kid!"
Frederic turned and faced rain. His eyes fell to the floor, and he gave an evasive shrug.
"What if i am?"
His answer earned him a firm shake of the head from Rain "Your nothing more than more than human weapon to them!"
Frederic started to lose patience "One that can and will save this town." he swallowed "You know that I'm the only one who can do this Renault! You know that I'm the only Phoenix here!" he ripped the badge from the tabletop " If anyone can protect this town, it's me!"
Rain's face was devoid of emotion. "First of all, don't call me Renault. Second of all, you are only sixteen years old! Think this through for all hell's sake!"
Frederic and Renault locked gazes.
"This isn't your decision to make." said Frederic finally as he turned around and headed for the back door. He stopped three paces away from the door and tapped a plank of wood jutting from the ground.
The door opened instantly to reveal a gigantic room with computers, digital maps, weapons, and soldiers. All of them were armed to the teeth. One of them, a big white man in his late forties walked up to him and showed him in. The man had two of his teeth knocked out from previous fights and had a nose that was most likely broken on more than one occasion. He wore standard ASA gear, with a a gray baret on his head.
"Nice to see you, Sergeant Haughton."
Haughton rolled his eyes and tapped Frederic's shoulder. He then guided Frederic to the center of the room.
Frederic eyes flew over the rest of the room. Weapons were stacked in the right corner of the room, and there a was an unfinished game of chess sitting idly across from him. The room was oddly silent, despite how crowded it was. Frederic made eye contact with every soldier there. He was just as much a soldier as they were, they had no right to look down on him. His gazed at them each in turn.
A door suddenly burst open and a tall, built man entered the room. All eyes flew to him. He was smoking a cigar, and the smell made Frederic wince in discomfort.
"Well, well, the little guy comes back?" he said, pulling the cigar out his mouth, "We thought you were a goner!"
Frederic shifted in his seat, he'd always had a special kind of hatred for the commander.
"Who were the guards?" asked Frederic, throwing a thumb behind him.
The commander ignored Frederic's negligence when it came to saluting him. He drew a large pull from his cigar, and laughed "Oh, those guys?" he began "Your old boys were discontinued from service, if that's what your wondering about."
Discontinued? Frederic could only imagine why such a thing would ever happen to them, but he didn't press the issue. The Commander could, and would fire him for less of the opportunity made itself available.
"Anyways, I'm here to return to my squad."
"Squad zero?"
"Yes."
He once again took another large swig of his cigar, and pointed behind him.
"They're in the barracks."
Frederic knew that was his cue, and he marched right past the commander into the barracks.
He was greeted by four other soldiers.
"Hey guys." he said.
Faulkner grinned wickedly "Welcome back."
Frederic was used to fighting. His ears were had become attuned to the sounds of battle. He could recognize the sound of tank fire, bombs, and injured soldiers. And yes, he knew the sound the sound of a gun being locked and loaded.
So that is precisely why he stopped breathing when that telltale click reached his ears.
Should have seen it coming, he thought half-a-second after the trigger was pulled and the ring, the angry rip of the bullet being fired, spread across the room.

This is some old work I had for my story on Kaz that I never followed up. Now though, I have. Don't know if it is any good, but I plan to continue to develop this particular piece.
Ya, sometimes I surprise myself.




_______________________________



"Life is a kind of game; like chess, a player is often found to be his own worst enemy. The game of chess is decided by who makes the wrong moves at the wrong time. In real life, you owe it to yourself to never make that fatal move of your own volition."
-Me.

Last edited by ChessPi3ce; 12-06-12 at 08:42 PM..
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