Thanks. Like I said I didn't have a lot of time for this post so I didn't proof it before I posted it. We're renovating so yeah.
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Thanks. Like I said I didn't have a lot of time for this post so I didn't proof it before I posted it. We're renovating so yeah.
Mikael was not sure how long he'd been falling he guessed around five days. He'd become used to the falling sensation and the dark already. He went insane many times in the five days but was calm at the moment.
It didn't matter how many times he tried thinking it over, nothing of what was happening made any sense. This death he was experiencing wasn't the same kind as he'd expected from the many different philisophical out looks. In all of his reading he'd never come across a book that said and they pushed the souls into lightless voids where they continue falling. His thought was interrupted by a light that streamed by his head leaving an afterimage burnt into the darkness so that everything seemed to be light for a second then the darkness crept back.
He knew that in a few moments he'd begin going crazy again. That light is what passed by before which got him thinking of the pointlessness of his existence in contrast to that one seccond of light. He was slowly becoming addicted to it and without it he went into withdrawals punching and kicking at the nothingness. That's what he was doing right now. Flailing against the empty feelings he was experiencing.
To his surprise his right hand collided with something just over his head. It was soft but solid. He swung again more delicately reaching for it with his hands opened. Despite falling there it was again. He decided that whatever it was must be falling with him. Not liking the idea of having something solid above his head just in case there was a bottom to the fall and having it fall on his head he moved so that it was under his feet. The change was weird at first because he felt as though he were falling headfirst. The light came back but it was behind him this time and stayed. He turned around to face it. It looked like a doorway with a silouhette of a woman. A light filled the room from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was the woman with dark hair and purple eyes.
"Impressive! You managed to find the floor." Her voice was mocking and her face seemed to be laughing at him but there was a twinge of jealousy about her. Looking around Mikael was standing in a spacious room with a low ceiling. "Most people claim a wall or the ceiling and fall when they can see where they really are but you didn't fall so technically you passed the test but..."
The light was gone again and he could feel a hand on his shoulder then his back slammed against the soft solid surface. "I think it was beginner's luck so I'm going to make the test a little harder." the voice was speaking right into his face, "We're going to play a little game of tag. If you catch me you win and we can continue with your training. Until then, think of this as a private lesson." The sound of her grew quieter she was distancing herself from him. "You may begin."
Sorry that I didn' read the last one and responded, had kind of a family crisis; but it ended wit good news. I've read the last post and this one, seems that u have somethin' big up ur sleeve wit this story. I enjoyed it, I'm lookin' forward ta readin' more.:cool3:
Oh man that was a good section to the story.......that was intense and kept you on your toes wanting more.....I like it keep on writing seriously.
Keep going. You've got me hooked!!! I can't wait to see where you are taking this story. Very original.
Kiki totally kicks ass right now... nice promo for the story !!! I LOVE IT! Just for that, I'm getting up early tomorrow and typing two new enttries into the story (eventhough I just got back from boston and am supah tired I'll do it any-who.)
~out~ looks like an early morning tomorrow.
now thats a new one... saying a message sounds like a stalker message stalkers dont usually have thier name attached to the message though:D:
but even so this is still a brilliant story would be brilliant if it went on some more
WOW this beginning a great beginning for your story really ... this .. this what i will say it is just great i feel like i am reading something that i can't describe ...
it was really good i liked all of it and this one of what you wrote
the beginning were good but i like the most the start :
and i liked in the second one :Quote:
It was a subtle day. The sun slowly dominated the horizon forcing sleep to yeild to that dreaded restlessness and eventually wakefulness. This wasn't a problem for Mikael Ashforth, as he'd been up all night anyways, thinking about an event which had forever changed his life. Not so much about the event itself but about the cost of that which was lost. For him, the rising sun was just another meaningless thing happening after an eventful night. Events full of meaning, heartache and change.
Her name was Amber Greyheart. It fit her well enough; her dark hair was unique and wouldn't look even half so good on another face. Her eyes held a mysterious power that he couldn't resist and she was everything that he'd ever dreamed of in a girl. He was like an insect trapped in everything that was her. Everything that was beautiful about his life was her. Without her, his life wouldn't exist. She'd saved him in more ways then one. But now, it only hurt Mikael to think of her. She'd betrayed him, six times. Once with every shot.
There he was, sitting in the middle of a lot, outside the corner store only three blocks from his house; staring at his dead body watching the the blue eyes glassing over, blonde hair turning red with blood; the pool, forming in intricate patterns, tracing the infinitely small contours of the grit, swallowing the space whole and bringing it into one entity; his life was pouring out of him and he was oddly amused by it, watching the events of his life taking place anew within it's crimson depths.
Corvis you are a good writer and all of us can see that throw your writing you are really good and you surprise us ... =^_^=Quote:
Mikael became fascinated with the desk and couldnt resist the urge of nosiness that is born in every person and never really leaves them- something we've excused as curiousity. He aproached the ebony desk. Shame averted his eyes from the opened texts towards the inkpot. He studied the quill it was a deep crimson color the shaft was so dark that it seemed black. The whole thing gleamed in the surreal light that filled the room from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. There was a thin red syrup inside the pot -a lot like blood- just thick enough to hold the flowing quill in place naturally. Submitting to the burning itch to 'sneak a peak' at the books he became shocked and fascinated at what he saw.