Post by Rojo on Sept 13, 2014 18:19:49 GMT -5
It's strange posting on here after so long. Not sure what's pushed me to do it really but I thought why not, for old time's sake. I don't know if anyone would see this but I guess I was just reading a few messages, some comments on threads, a few miscellaneous posts here and there and I missed this a bit- a moment of nostalgia, if you will. Just thought it would be nice to post something I wrote about two years ago- it's sad to say but I don't really write as much at all. I'm (sort of) working on another few-pages thing with the same character featured in this story but I dunno if I'll finish it. But yes, this is one of the very few things I've written that I feel proud of, that it's not. . .well, not less than good. Aka (Rebecca? What is the dealio with that nowadays) has read this (a long time ago) but I dunno if she remembers; she gave me some good advice.
It features a character I came up with, er, well, a while ago! I think I mentioned him a few times maybe, but he exists in the same world as Erik (if you still remember him from the 'Blood Ties' thread). It has its flaws looking back at it but it's still something I thought worth posting. It's not particularly long but I like it.
Bad Moon Rising
It was a surprisingly clear night in June. The skies were free of ominous grey clouds and there was no layer of fog or mist that usually heralded the coming of weird and strange events. The stars were out on display; tiny dancers, blinking on their inky stage- their great centrepiece, the moon, was also making a rather magnificent appearance; she shone in the sky, an enormous pale orb which hung in the ether as if on heavenly strings- the great marble marionette.
Most people didn’t really stop to look at the moon- she wasn’t as bright nor as brilliant as the sun, she only took his light and spread it under her own name- ‘second-hand’ light. Most people were too busy with their lives, hurrying about like ants, so intent on getting home from work or going to the local dive or just trying to bury their heads from the rest of the world.
Adrian Shocks wasn’t most people. He noticed the moon, large and all-knowing in her calm and cool luminosity and she noticed him. She called to something inside him. Something bound.
He stood alone, a thin and pale man in a field, his only companion a leather messenger bag which he clutched tightly, his hands shaking fiercely around the strap as he looked into the moon, the satellite reflected in his eyes which were somewhat unfocused and dull. Feeling the cold air against his bare chest, Adrian looked around the large field, behind himself down the hill- he could no longer see the lights of the city- not even the unnatural colours caused by the light pollution were visible on the horizon. Far, far away he could vaguely hear a car on a road going by.
Not far enough.
Holding his bag tighter, Adrian moved forward towards the line of trees in front of him, his body shaking not entirely from the cold. His bare feet felt small pricks of pain as he stood on gnarled twigs and the occasional stone as he made his way into the wood, branches or fallen logs grazing him as me moved jerkily forward. He had to keep going. Had to get away.
A wave of pain shook his body, rippling outward from his chest to his fingertips and toes. He yelled out and fell against a tree, barely noticing as the rough bark scraped his shoulder. His head felt as it were about to split, a thousand drums beat inside, a rumbling that would soon overcome him and swallow him whole. Have to keep going.
After the pain had subsided to a rhythmic throb, he stumbled onward, his eyes beginning to sting as the wind got colder and whipped into him. He shivered and pressed onward, fear propelling him away from all he knew and everything he cared for. He would change soon, he knew it. He would soon become something else, something he had fought for a long time—something he could never defeat or be rid of. He grunted what was meant to be dark chuckle as he pushed himself further into the woodland as he remembered how he had tried to tackle The Change at first.
Many people have enough problems being a teenager- hormones, school. . .Adrian had envied his peers. All they had to worry about was what to wear to prom or whether they could get the grades they wanted to go to college. Most weren’t lying to their parents about staying over at friend’s houses two nights a month or waking up covered in chicken blood.
He felt one of his hands move unconsciously to his side; it gently moved over the flesh there, smooth with hair at first, but then it felt the raw, angry uneven skin where the scar was- three large lines broke the surface, leaving large grooves in his side which had never healed properly. His reminder.
For another thing, it certainly wasn’t like those awful ‘dark romance’ novels all the girls at his school read- it wasn’t having a rippling abdomen and being tormented because you only hurt the ones you love. It was waking up naked miles from home covered in dirt, blood and probably flesh.
It was staying alive.
He had spent so long trying to find a way to explain it to himself, to rationalize it, the human thing to do. He had refused to use silly words like ‘curse’ or ‘magic.’ Even now the word sounded odd and childish in his head—werewolf. There was still a sense of disbelief, a willingness to live in a world where people were lawyers and doctors and builders. Now, after so long, despite the fact he still protested that he was a normal, functional member of society, Adrian never really felt in control. His whole life revolved around The Change and the thing he became when it happened. He didn’t get to have normal aspirations and live them out. It got in the way.
Adrian broke into a small clearing. The grass here was long and the trees were thick. He turned and listened again but could hear no cars. Good, this would do.
He walked out into the middle of the clearing, still holding his bag tightly. He shook and he felt the wind turn the rivulets of sweat running across his skin icy. He shook himself once again and looked up at the moon. It seemed enormous from where he was stood- all-encompassing and omnipotent. She looked inside him and she chanted to the thing that lay there. The Moon was its master and she called it to heel. It replied with a low, deep growl that sounded within him- it vibrated in his bones and it sent a shockwave through his head with the force of an airliner jet engine. Adrian clutched at his head and gritted his teeth, falling to his knees and pitching forward, his head hitting dull earth as a low moan echoed from him, the end breaking into something not human. He felt something rise up inside him, sinister and familiar bile that came from somewhere deeper than the pit of his stomach, somewhere inside him that could not be found by any human-operated apparatus.
He looked up at the moon one last time, his vision fading in and out of colour, feeling as if a great wave overcame him; he did not try to fight it as he once had, allowing the primal force to wash over him- and with it, it brought pain.
The first scream was like re-opening an old wound. His brain felt like it had been dropped in acid and smashed with a sledgehammer. His hands tore at the earth as his muscles flexed- skin stretched painfully as they expanded at unnatural speed, becoming thicker and defined. The half-man on the ground screamed again but the end of it was a gurgling yelp as his skull cracked; his jaw began to elongate and protrude forward, flattening and pulling his nose over the new jaw. His skull pitched backward, pushing against his brain and he gibbered as his vision flickered in and out of darkness. When he surfaced he was struck with even greater agony as his teeth began to push themselves up, changing shape—what was once Adrian Shocks opened its mouth to yell and blood dripped from bleeding gums onto the forest floor. White, hot burning, his ears widened and opened, moving further up his now-warped skull, the liquids inside his head churning as his inner systems attempted to adjust to the change.
For a few moments the pitiful thing gasped as it’s lungs repositioned themselves, momentarily collapsing and inflating wildly again- the creature’s eyes bulged and it squealed painfully as its eyes bulged- its heart convulsed, sending a roaring drumbeat through its veins and creature’s newly-formed ears. The ventricles and chambers beat erratically, changing and twisting into new and inhuman shapes- the beast roared its first breath as its bodily systems shifted and bulged, altering themselves in ways that the body the beast was caged in was not supposed to accommodate.
He barely felt a stinging in his fingers amid the cacophony of hurt as his nails pushed themselves outward from the tips of his digits, hardening into the claws of a beast- the consciousness of Adrian Shocks faded like the vision of the yellowing, bloodshot eyes, overwhelmed by something colossal, something that had been chained but was now free, something older than man had ever been. Something long forgotten. The three lines across his side burned like branded marks, throbbing with the chanting the moon made as the thing inside tore its way out through its mortal prison.
His senses changed as bones and skin cracked and bent—his vision flickered and went in and out of focus before settling on a colourless picture of the clearing, his sense of smell and hearing snapped acutely—suddenly his olfactory senses were overwhelmed by smells- the bark of the trees around him, the grass which swayed faintly in the moonlight and the suddenly strong smell of the leather in the bag around his- Its’ chest. Tiny hairs stuck up across the creature’s body as it suddenly turned its head to better hear the sound of a bird rustling in its nest some 200 feet away- but now his mind began to fade. Numbers and descriptions, human knowledge slipped away, leaving only senses and feeling, what little of the latter the Beast had.
Panic filled what was left of Adrian Shocks as it always did at this point of the transformation, where what was left of him filled with that sinking feeling, that sense of being washed away in a tidal wave of something incomprehensible, something old and terrifying. That sense of being washed away and drowning- he thought that was what dying must feel like.
Then he was gone.
It features a character I came up with, er, well, a while ago! I think I mentioned him a few times maybe, but he exists in the same world as Erik (if you still remember him from the 'Blood Ties' thread). It has its flaws looking back at it but it's still something I thought worth posting. It's not particularly long but I like it.
Bad Moon Rising
It was a surprisingly clear night in June. The skies were free of ominous grey clouds and there was no layer of fog or mist that usually heralded the coming of weird and strange events. The stars were out on display; tiny dancers, blinking on their inky stage- their great centrepiece, the moon, was also making a rather magnificent appearance; she shone in the sky, an enormous pale orb which hung in the ether as if on heavenly strings- the great marble marionette.
Most people didn’t really stop to look at the moon- she wasn’t as bright nor as brilliant as the sun, she only took his light and spread it under her own name- ‘second-hand’ light. Most people were too busy with their lives, hurrying about like ants, so intent on getting home from work or going to the local dive or just trying to bury their heads from the rest of the world.
Adrian Shocks wasn’t most people. He noticed the moon, large and all-knowing in her calm and cool luminosity and she noticed him. She called to something inside him. Something bound.
He stood alone, a thin and pale man in a field, his only companion a leather messenger bag which he clutched tightly, his hands shaking fiercely around the strap as he looked into the moon, the satellite reflected in his eyes which were somewhat unfocused and dull. Feeling the cold air against his bare chest, Adrian looked around the large field, behind himself down the hill- he could no longer see the lights of the city- not even the unnatural colours caused by the light pollution were visible on the horizon. Far, far away he could vaguely hear a car on a road going by.
Not far enough.
Holding his bag tighter, Adrian moved forward towards the line of trees in front of him, his body shaking not entirely from the cold. His bare feet felt small pricks of pain as he stood on gnarled twigs and the occasional stone as he made his way into the wood, branches or fallen logs grazing him as me moved jerkily forward. He had to keep going. Had to get away.
A wave of pain shook his body, rippling outward from his chest to his fingertips and toes. He yelled out and fell against a tree, barely noticing as the rough bark scraped his shoulder. His head felt as it were about to split, a thousand drums beat inside, a rumbling that would soon overcome him and swallow him whole. Have to keep going.
After the pain had subsided to a rhythmic throb, he stumbled onward, his eyes beginning to sting as the wind got colder and whipped into him. He shivered and pressed onward, fear propelling him away from all he knew and everything he cared for. He would change soon, he knew it. He would soon become something else, something he had fought for a long time—something he could never defeat or be rid of. He grunted what was meant to be dark chuckle as he pushed himself further into the woodland as he remembered how he had tried to tackle The Change at first.
Many people have enough problems being a teenager- hormones, school. . .Adrian had envied his peers. All they had to worry about was what to wear to prom or whether they could get the grades they wanted to go to college. Most weren’t lying to their parents about staying over at friend’s houses two nights a month or waking up covered in chicken blood.
He felt one of his hands move unconsciously to his side; it gently moved over the flesh there, smooth with hair at first, but then it felt the raw, angry uneven skin where the scar was- three large lines broke the surface, leaving large grooves in his side which had never healed properly. His reminder.
For another thing, it certainly wasn’t like those awful ‘dark romance’ novels all the girls at his school read- it wasn’t having a rippling abdomen and being tormented because you only hurt the ones you love. It was waking up naked miles from home covered in dirt, blood and probably flesh.
It was staying alive.
He had spent so long trying to find a way to explain it to himself, to rationalize it, the human thing to do. He had refused to use silly words like ‘curse’ or ‘magic.’ Even now the word sounded odd and childish in his head—werewolf. There was still a sense of disbelief, a willingness to live in a world where people were lawyers and doctors and builders. Now, after so long, despite the fact he still protested that he was a normal, functional member of society, Adrian never really felt in control. His whole life revolved around The Change and the thing he became when it happened. He didn’t get to have normal aspirations and live them out. It got in the way.
Adrian broke into a small clearing. The grass here was long and the trees were thick. He turned and listened again but could hear no cars. Good, this would do.
He walked out into the middle of the clearing, still holding his bag tightly. He shook and he felt the wind turn the rivulets of sweat running across his skin icy. He shook himself once again and looked up at the moon. It seemed enormous from where he was stood- all-encompassing and omnipotent. She looked inside him and she chanted to the thing that lay there. The Moon was its master and she called it to heel. It replied with a low, deep growl that sounded within him- it vibrated in his bones and it sent a shockwave through his head with the force of an airliner jet engine. Adrian clutched at his head and gritted his teeth, falling to his knees and pitching forward, his head hitting dull earth as a low moan echoed from him, the end breaking into something not human. He felt something rise up inside him, sinister and familiar bile that came from somewhere deeper than the pit of his stomach, somewhere inside him that could not be found by any human-operated apparatus.
He looked up at the moon one last time, his vision fading in and out of colour, feeling as if a great wave overcame him; he did not try to fight it as he once had, allowing the primal force to wash over him- and with it, it brought pain.
The first scream was like re-opening an old wound. His brain felt like it had been dropped in acid and smashed with a sledgehammer. His hands tore at the earth as his muscles flexed- skin stretched painfully as they expanded at unnatural speed, becoming thicker and defined. The half-man on the ground screamed again but the end of it was a gurgling yelp as his skull cracked; his jaw began to elongate and protrude forward, flattening and pulling his nose over the new jaw. His skull pitched backward, pushing against his brain and he gibbered as his vision flickered in and out of darkness. When he surfaced he was struck with even greater agony as his teeth began to push themselves up, changing shape—what was once Adrian Shocks opened its mouth to yell and blood dripped from bleeding gums onto the forest floor. White, hot burning, his ears widened and opened, moving further up his now-warped skull, the liquids inside his head churning as his inner systems attempted to adjust to the change.
For a few moments the pitiful thing gasped as it’s lungs repositioned themselves, momentarily collapsing and inflating wildly again- the creature’s eyes bulged and it squealed painfully as its eyes bulged- its heart convulsed, sending a roaring drumbeat through its veins and creature’s newly-formed ears. The ventricles and chambers beat erratically, changing and twisting into new and inhuman shapes- the beast roared its first breath as its bodily systems shifted and bulged, altering themselves in ways that the body the beast was caged in was not supposed to accommodate.
He barely felt a stinging in his fingers amid the cacophony of hurt as his nails pushed themselves outward from the tips of his digits, hardening into the claws of a beast- the consciousness of Adrian Shocks faded like the vision of the yellowing, bloodshot eyes, overwhelmed by something colossal, something that had been chained but was now free, something older than man had ever been. Something long forgotten. The three lines across his side burned like branded marks, throbbing with the chanting the moon made as the thing inside tore its way out through its mortal prison.
His senses changed as bones and skin cracked and bent—his vision flickered and went in and out of focus before settling on a colourless picture of the clearing, his sense of smell and hearing snapped acutely—suddenly his olfactory senses were overwhelmed by smells- the bark of the trees around him, the grass which swayed faintly in the moonlight and the suddenly strong smell of the leather in the bag around his- Its’ chest. Tiny hairs stuck up across the creature’s body as it suddenly turned its head to better hear the sound of a bird rustling in its nest some 200 feet away- but now his mind began to fade. Numbers and descriptions, human knowledge slipped away, leaving only senses and feeling, what little of the latter the Beast had.
Panic filled what was left of Adrian Shocks as it always did at this point of the transformation, where what was left of him filled with that sinking feeling, that sense of being washed away in a tidal wave of something incomprehensible, something old and terrifying. That sense of being washed away and drowning- he thought that was what dying must feel like.
Then he was gone.
