Excerpt
Claire
PROLOGUE A golden ray illuminates my cell, the only light in my otherwise dark world. Its stone walls are just as gloomy as always. My bed, a mat on the floor and a tiny blanket. Its spring now, so at least the cold nights are over. The rags that hang from my body do little to bring me comfort. A long robe, its faded grey color matches my surroundings. I hear the lock unlatch and a guard motions me out. He is dressed in a navy-blue uniform. His tanned skin a stark contrast to mine, pale from lack of sunshine. The dark grey halls seem like an endless maze, torches light the way. He leads me and the others that fill the cells beside me to a large hall. This is where we get our food if you can call it that. Potato soup and a slice of bread is all they ever serve. Too afraid we may revolt; they keep us weak and frail. My body appears as it is wasting away. The only curves are those from my bones sticking out beneath my skin. My cheeks are sunken in, a skeleton of my once full features. I grab my bowl silently and walk to one of the tables. We are not permitted to talk to one another, so the vast hall is silent. Guards stand at the entrance and exits. Their hateful glares burn through me. I have spent what feels like my whole life here. Never permitted to leave. When I was still just a baby, my mother, among others from the lower class revolted against those in power. They wished to overthrow the rich and the hagiarchy they have created. However, they lost and only served to increase our suffering.
By Dianna Hoiland4 years ago in Fiction
Modern Vampyr
Wintry anorexia of decrepit bone trees, grey overcast sky, sheer emptiness in the howling wind. Deathly mounds of white en masse, roads slick with black ice. Sleet gunking up streets and spilling from snowbanks, pooling atop manhole lids, rushing sidewalk gutters. Whiteout blizzard.
By James B. William R. Lawrence4 years ago in Fiction
Book Draft (so far)
Saturday, August 17, 2019 “Here’s your key, and if you need anything at all, let me know, dear,” says the lady behind the desk. Her name is Linda, and she’s already promised my mom she’ll keep an eye on me to make sure my transition to university goes smoothly. We’re moving all of my belongings into the dorms today. Linda also told us that there are plenty of nice looking young men around to give me a hand with whatever I need. I don’t particularly care about the nice looking young men. I’m more of an introvert and not quite ready to meet people yet.
By Emery Pine4 years ago in Fiction
HELEN
PROLOGUE As my eyes open and shut, pain flashes through my body. I see walls, surrounding me, made of clay and stones. Where am I? My mind races. I take in my surroundings between the flutters of my heavy eyelids. Suddenly a searing pain in my head forces my eyes shut. I scream in pain, reaching for my head, something sticky is on my face. I pull my hand back and open my eyes. Trying to focus despite the agony, I see my hand, covered in dark red blood. I stare at it for a minute unable to process what I am seeing. I scream, my brain cannot function to do anything else. “She’s awake.” A voice speaks from outside the hut. Instinctually, I looked towards it. I see the door to the hut, hear hushed whispers from beyond it. Suddenly a woman rushes in, the only features I can make out in my haze, her long blonde hair and blue eyes. “It is okay.” She reassures me. She reaches for something besides the bed, a cloth, then dips it in a bowl. There’s brown, sticky looking stuff in it, and reaches for my head. “Where am I?” I forcefully stutter out. “Niflheim”, responds the woman, calmly as she reaches towards my head. The smell of the brown substance hits my nostrils. “What are you doing?” I gag, as I raise my arm to block hers. Pain sears through my arm and I screech in pain. I see spots of white shining through the red on my arm. I freeze, looking closer. My eyes focus more on my arm, bone is showing through chunks of my flesh that are torn to bits. Everything goes black as my head sinks back into the pillow beneath it. I drift off into a dreamland with memories of Jack.
By Dianna Hoiland4 years ago in Fiction
Sissy Johnson
Some few days later, the wounded were transported to the rail and began their trip to D.C.. Sissy squeezed the hand of one of her young patients as his stretcher was picked up by the orderlies to be taken to the ambulance for transportation. He had cried a lot, but silently, attempting to be brave during his stay in the medical tent. Sissy was certain he had lied about his age in order to enlist. “That’s the last of them, then,” she said to Eleanor, joining her and Orderly Newton as they stood speaking together. Jack Richardson smiled to the group as he turned back from the ambulance.
By Ruth Aliza4 years ago in Fiction
The Bridge
Her footfalls were soft, barely audible beneath the numbing sleet that slay the surrounding streets and buildings; drowned out further by the occasional carriage wheels and horse hooves pelting against the sand embedded cobblestones. It was a bitter coldness that fell upon London this evening, and it came not only from the miserable weather. It emanated from something so innocent and fragile looking as a delicately built young woman, dressed in finery that indicated considerable wealth, striking in appearance when considered against the darkening, river misted dreariness of her surroundings.
By Karen Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Sissy Johnson
When had everything changed? Shells exploded in the distance and the sound of men dying and horses screaming filled the air along with the acrid smoke of cannon fire. Plume after plume of dark grey shot into the air from the opposite ridge and Sissy’s hand involuntarily clutched the cotton of her skirt that caught gently in the tall grass which waved in contrary serenity to the violent events unfolding nearby.
By Ruth Aliza4 years ago in Fiction
Away Game
Thousands of miles below my feet, an azure marble spun silently in the void. The planet's elegant streaks of cloud left me breathless even from this distance. Docking clamps clanked and hissed, and my shuttle was let free from its mothership. Auto pilot activated, and my ship began its descent. The U.I.P Intrepid grew smaller above me, as the water world Aquarius grew larger below.
By Cody Zerkle4 years ago in Fiction
