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  1. #1
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    Jon's Creative Writing

    Following Tim's lead, I decided to make a thread dedicated to my creative writing.


    TITLE NEEDED
    By Jon Edwards

    Chapter 1

    [spoiler:14k4u234]The morning air was icy and rough, as Leon awoke to a slight noise. He sat upright in the tent he pitched for camp, focussing his already adept sense, listening, watching, waiting.
    "Long enough." He thought, as he made his way to the tent's opening. His training had prepared him for what was to come. Slowly opening the flaps of the tent, the cool morning air struck Leon's face with a sheer, cold force. Pins and needles stung and poked at his already numbed face. The forest greeted him with a kinder welcome than the morning air, as though he was a local resident of the woods. His knife sat loyally at his side, his handcrafted bow, gripped tightly in his right hand, and a perfectly fletched arrow steadily held in his left. A wise saying from a familiar voice echoed through his mind. "Prepare to cause death and destruction, or prepare to die and be destroyed." Word from Otis, his teacher, mentor and old friend. Suddenly a click of a twig underfoot, Leon spun around, arrow nocked and bow at full draw, he met the shadow of a man, armed to the teeth with shield and sword. A quick release of is index and middle finger, and the arrow was in flight with deadly aim. The sound of steel on steel echoed ominously through the eerily silent forest, followed by a disarming thud from the unknown man's sword landing uselessly on the ground. In an instant, Leon had nocked another arrow at full draw, ready to send another precise shot on its way.
    "I yield!" Cried the shadow as he lay down his shield next to his disarmed sword.
    "So you should." Replied Leon in a gruff and blunt manner, as he grabbed the shadowed figure by the scruff and tossed him into the morning sunlight. He lay, sprawled on the ground, useless and helpless like his own sword and shield.
    "I've been waiting for you to come." Leon stated, seemingly pleased with his efforts, as he grabbed the rope to immobilise his captive.
    "Just you wait, Ranger." He spat towards Leon. "My followers will be all over this forest, in search for me. " Still grinning, he continued. "You have less than an hour." Leon looked at his captive, who still wore the same smug, cheesy grin on his face.
    "Well then." Leon started, "I guess we best be off." He replied, eying the man, retaining his anger. "Sleep tight..." Leon said, almost with joy, and with one powerful kick, the hostage was out cold and ready for transport.[/spoiler:14k4u234]

    Chapter 2

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Hands bound, the captive awoke, slung over the stocky Ranger's shoulder. He was still dazed by the powerful boot delivered to his face, by the man who had caught him. He spat a deep, scarlet red. Blood. The force of the kick had broken his nose, and blood was caught in his sinuses.
    "You will pay for this, Ranger." The captive said bluntly.
    "You're in no position for threats, Clarke." The Ranger replied. The surprise on the captives face was noticeable, as the Ranger knew his name. Leon dropped Clarke off his shoulder, forcing the captive to land heavily on his back. He gasped for air, the fall had winded him. Leon clasped his hand around the captives mouth, muffling the deep moan of a fight for air.
    "Quiet." He spat towards Clarke. The Ranger's heightened senses detected something. Clarke could read it in his face, he knew what he was thinking.
    "I told you my men would come." He stated with revengeful excitement. Leon reached into his knapsack, and pulled out a clean bit of linen. He scrunched it up, and stuffed it into Clarke's mouth, muffling all his sounds except for the intensity of his breathing through his nostrils. He placed his captive against a tree, and in an instant, the Ranger had disappeared. Clarke looked around, scared, and confused as to where the Ranger had run off to. He heard rustling, and he looked up into the bright, early morning sun. The sunlight broke through the trees, individual rays could be seen, divided by the masses of leaves.
    "Clarke?" He could hear his men drawing nearer. Clarke tried to shout and scream, but the linen muffled any attempt at a sound.
    "Will they ever find me?" He started to worry. "Or will I be left here to starve." The thoughts plagued his mind, and he started to fidget and move, any attempt to break free of his constraints. He glanced back up into the sky, and saw the birds flying overhead. One word entered his mind. Freedom. He yearned for it, but it was his to have. He glanced down, looking at the rich, luscious, green, forest grass. Suddenly, a noise. A branch being hacked away by steel, and he saw the first sign of one of his men.
    "I found him!" The call echoed throughout the forest. Three men joined him, a traditional, four manned search party must have been formed. Clarke's men walked over to him, to give him his freedom. Clarke tried again, screaming, a warning to his men. He knew what was to happen, yet he had no ability to speak, the linen clogged his words.
    "Hang on Sir, we will have you free in no time." One of his men stated, proud of his efforts. He pulled the spit and blood soaked linen from Clarke's mouth. Clarke drew in a breath, to warn his men.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Chapter 3

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Leon sat, high in the big oak tree. A watchful eye, over both the searching party, and his captive, Clarke, who still sat, hands bound, mouth gagged, leaning against the trunk of a tree. The search party was hacking through the forest. Leon couldn't help but think that destroying such natural beauty should be punishable. And he would punish them. His hand hovered, steadily, over his quiver, patiently waiting. The men broke through the forests thick foliage, stumbling upon the man who they were searching for. From where Leon was, their voices sounded like whispers. He noticed Clarke, squirming and wriggling, for freedom. He knew. Clarke was going to give away Leon's plan. In a flash, an arrow was pulled from the quiver, and was resting, patiently on the bow string. Clarke's eyes widened, as the search party started to free him from his constraints. Still calm, still patient, Leon waited. He watched, as they pulled out the blood stained linen, freeing Clarke's voice. He watched Clarke inhale, preparing to warn the search party of Leon's trap.
    "Watch out..." Clarke's first two words spoken, and an arrow was sent. It flew through the air, cleanly. It struck its target, the man who had taken the linen out of Leon's captives mouth. It pierced his necked, and severed his spinal cord. The exit wound was his mouth, the arrow travelled and pinned the man to the tree, blood dripping from his mouth, onto Clarke.
    "In the trees!" By the time Clarke had finished his sentence, two more deadly shots were fired, both with precision. The first was struck on the left side of the man's chest, piercing his heart He fell, convulsing on the ground. A single scream left his mouth, which quickly turned into a gurgle, as blood surged up and overflowed from his mouth. The other arrow pierced the other man's skull. Not a sound was made, as he floated gently to the ground. The arrow sat, stiff in the back of his head. The last man stood, waiting for the next arrow to fly from the trees. Clarke watched, in awe, as he saw his last chance for freedom fall within a matter of seconds. His face was red, painted with blood of his saviours. Leon reached for another arrow, watching the last remaining search party member shivering and quivering with fear. Arrow nocked at full draw, he flicked his fingers back, and sent the deadly projectile on its way. Piercing through is leather armour, the arrow found its target, sending him flying back. There was that noise again, the sound of a man winded, gasping for air.
    "Time to end his suffering." Leon thought as he drew back the last needed arrow, to end this man's life. The arrow struck his neck, hitting the jugular. Blood squirted from the arrow wound, and the man dropped, in a pool of his own blood.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Chapter 4

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Leon climbed down swiftly, displaying his adept agility and speed. Clarke was still staring, vacant eyed, with no expression. The blood was still dripping onto his face, and was beginning to pool in his lap.
    "Yes, I knew your friends would come." Leon laughed, "they have been tracking us for the past hour." Clarke was astonished, his mouth opened and closed, but it was as if the linen was still in his mouth, for no words could escape his surprise. Clarke swallowed hard, and mustered up the strength to talk.
    "H-how?" He stuttered, "how did you do all this?" Leon decided it best not to answer, and forced Clarke onto his feet roughly. Clarke made no protest, no smart remark. He stood there, staring off into the distance, his face still blank and covered with blood. He was a zombie, and did as Leon asked and wished, with no complaints. Leon stopped, and flagged for Clarke to do the same. He did so. Leon concentrated, and focused his senses. That sound, he could hear it far off in the distance. The sloshing of rushing water.
    "A stream is nearby, we should get you cleaned up." Leon muttered, trying to pick which direction the sound was emanating from. He turned sharply, and yanked the rope which was holding his prisoner, a sign for him to begin walking again. They had to stray from the path, and walk through the density of the forest. Unlike Clarke's search party, Leon made sure to disturb as little nature as possible. A sign of respect. They reached the stream, feeling confident Leon walked over to Clarke, and untied the binds on his hands.
    "Now, you saw what I did to your search party..." Leon started, he saw the worry in Clarke's eyes. "If you so much as try to escape, I'll make sure to take out your knees first." He warned. Clarke understood, and he nodded rapidly. Leon walked over, filled up his cantina, before Clarke had the chance to soil the water with the blood on his face. Clarke began washing, scrubbing every inch of his face, scraping off the blood. The water around him started to change colour, to a slight scarlet tinge. Leon still gripped his bow tight, waiting for Clarke to make his move.
    "Maybe I was wrong." Leon pondered, watching Clarke scrub his hands clean of blood. Leon sat down, and Clarke wandered over near him.
    "So, uh, Ranger..." Clarke mumbled.
    "Come on, spit it out!" Leon shouted. Clarke jumped with fright, the changes he had made since meeting the Ranger were quite obvious. Going from a renown, fearless, warrior with no honour, who set his own rules, to one who was quiet, fearful and followed the orders barked at him by his captor.
    "Well, Sir, why did you capture me?" Clarke seemed hesitant to ask. This question had plagued his mind for the entire journey.
    "You'll find out soon enough." Leon answered bluntly. The look on Clarke's face showed his discomfort to this answer, but he was in no position to argue. And then, Leon heard it. A growl or a roar, he could not distinguish between which, but what he did know, was it was dangerous.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Chapter 5

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Low and menacing, it rumbled. A Growl, a roar? Leon was not sure, what creature could be lurking in the shadows of this pristine forest. Bear or boar, even a tiger has been spotted in these woods before. Clarke heard it too, his face was full of fear. He looked to Leon, who was frowning, both in concentration and an attempt to decipher which animal was making that bone rattling, blood chilling noise. Leon grabbed his quiver, slung it over his shoulder, and held his bow at the ready, right hand hovering over his quiver for a split second reaction. The noise had stopped, and silence riddled through the forest. Eerie and unnerving, the silence was more frightening then the animal's dangerous noise. Silence brought unknown, and discomfort, which began an onset of the minds instability. Imaginations can run wild through the silence, as it does through the dark, and Clarke was feeling his rationality weaken, and his imagination grow. Leon, however, waited patiently, not moving. Clarke decided to use this as an opportunity to escape.
    "Rather take my chances with what lurks out there..." He thought to himself, as he began moving towards the shrubbery. Inch by inch, he slithered towards the bushes, his freedom slowly becoming more of a reality then a fools dream. But a fools dream it was, in the silence, the slightest noise echoes throughout the woods of the forest.
    "Don't move." Leon stated bluntly. He did not even have to glance in Clarke's direction to know what he was planning.
    "To hell with you Ranger..." Clarke spat, finding his courage again. "You can sit here and wait for that thing to pounce on you, I'm out of here." His voice echoed through the forest. In a flash, it leapt, out of the bushes, and pounced on Clarke. Each swipe of its claws opened a new gash in Clarke's body, his face, scratched and blood rushed from the top of his head, slowly painting him red with his own fluid. Clarke was choking on his own blood, the animal crawled off him, its claws and fur red with Clarke's blood. It placed itself in between Leon and Clarke, and eyed Leon carefully. During this time, Leon had nocked two arrows, and had them both at full draw. Leon was ready, and careful, unlike his dead captive. Clarke's body was still convulsing, in its last movements until the eternal sleep of death. The tiger took a step towards Leon. He gave it no chance, flicking his fingers and releasing the dual shot. Both arrows struck home, each with perfection. One through the heart, one through the eye. The tiger had no chance to survive, it dropped, and laid silently next to the finally still body of Clarke.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Chapter 6

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Leon walked over to observe the damage that had been created. Clarke had been torn apart, and the culprit lay next to him, with two arrows lodged deep in two vital areas. One through the heart, the other through the brain.
    "I gave you a clean kill..." Leon muttered to the dead tiger. "You could have done the same for him." He said, gesturing towards Clarke. Leon's body expression showed what he was thinking. Sorrow. He felt guilty for this man's death. If he had not captured Clarke, he would still be alive today. Quickly shaking it off, Leon headed towards the exit of the forest. He had to keep a level head, and he was now immune to the sting that death brings, for he dealt with it every day. His job, as a Ranger, was keeping the peace and destroying any criminals, whether it be through death or taking them hostage. Leon preferred the latter, and he reminisced on what had happened today.
    "A lesson..." He thought, "do not free a hostage from his constraints." The density of the forest began to subside, as he neared towards the exit, and to the open plain in which he must cross to reach the castle. He whistled, loudly and precisely, and waited patiently. And then, the sound of hooves on the grass. His loyal horse, agile and speedy, was galloping towards Leon. He hoisted himself up, and clicked with his tongue, signalling the horse to take off. His horse galloped, gaining momentum, until they were going at full speed.
    "We will be home in no time, girl." He said as he slapped her with assurance. The horses ears pricked, listening to a sound. In an instant, the Ranger had picked up on it as well. Whistling. Something, travelling through the air. Leon's eyes widened, and he looked to where the sound was emanating from. An arrow. Flying, on an interceptive path to him. He had no time to react, and awaited the cold sting of the piercing arrow into his flesh. The arrow struck, but had missed its intended target. His horse whinnied in pain, the arrow lodged in its neck. It through back its head, and collapsed, sending Leon rolling off the edge of the path. He smacked his head hard against a rock, and laid, sprawled on the ground, slowly slipping into the dark void of unconsciousness. His eyes closed, he focussed on the last remaining sounds of his consciousness. His breath was sharp, his heart beat fast. And the sound of his horses last whinnies plagued the air around him.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Chapter 7

    [spoiler:14k4u234]During his unconsciousness, Leon dreamed of his horse, Luciana. He dreamed of the day they met, the memories he had flooded back into his unconscious mind. After completing his first set of Ranger Aptitude tests. Passing each with flying colours, Otis told Leon he was ready.
    "Ready for what?" Leon questioned, and Otis asked Leon to follow him. They came across a paddock, with a few horses galloping happily around their open-field enclosure.
    "Here is where you will meet the one friend who will remain loyal until they day one of you passes." Otis explained. Leon couldn't believe it, yet he had seen one in action. Otis's horse, Anselm, was the most loyal animal one could ask for.
    "Now..." Otis started, "let's find your horse." They walked into the house which accompanied the paddock. Otis greeted the owner, as though they were great friends.
    "Otis! It's been a long time..." The owner started, "how's Anselm going?"
    "You know Anselm, still stubborn to all but me." Otis laughed.
    "Strange." Leon thought, "they talk about these horses as though they are human."
    "So, I'm guessing you are here for a horse for your apprentice, and this must be him!" The owner exclaimed. Forgetting his manners, Leon received a whack across the back of the head.
    "Quit daydreaming and put out your hand..." Otis muttered to Leon.
    "Nice to meet you." Leon said as he placed his hand out for the man to shake. "My name is Leon."
    "As with you, Leon." The owner said bluntly, "I'm Will." Leon and Otis followed Will out to the paddock. Will had a specific whistle for each horse, for Anselm, Otis's horse, it was three sharp whistles. Will puckered his lips and delivered a long and precise whistle. A horse pricked its ears and began to gallop over to Will.
    "Now, you try to whistle like that, boy." Will stated. Leon did as he was told and the horse whinnied and made its way slowly over to Leon.
    "This is Luciana, a fast and agile horse, very light on her feet." He claimed, "Stubborn, but nowhere near as stubborn as Anselm." Leon stretched his hand out to greet Luciana. Hesitantly, she moved closer towards his hand, giving a quick sniff. She snorted loudly and walked closer to Leon.
    "Hah! She likes you already!" Will exclaimed excitedly. "Go on, hop on her." Leon pulled himself up, as he did so, he could feel himself slipping from his unconscious mind, and back into the real, conscious world.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Chapter 8

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Leon regained consciousness, slowly creaking his eyes open. Rays of light crept in between the slight crease of his eyelids. Everything he saw was blurred, and was unable to distinguish where he was, or who had brought him here. A shadowy figure stood over him, looking to diagnose his current consciousness.
    "Wake up Ranger." An unfamiliar voice called to him. Leon opened his eyes wide and sat upright. His eyes scanned his surroundings, he was in a tent, and there was a barbaric man looking at him.
    "Where am I?" Leon questioned. still weary from the blow to his head.
    "Oh, not a place you would like to be, Ranger." The man laughed. "Now, you tell me where our leader is, or I start taking nicks out of your skin with this here blade." He stated, raising an extremely sharp sword as proof.
    "Dead." Leon said bluntly, "Tiger got him." Leon looked over, and saw his belongings piled up.
    "Well, that's bad news for you then..." he muttered, "we no longer need you." He raised the sword high above his head. Leon kicked at the man's legs. He swiped his leg around, and took the man out from under his feet. Clarke's follower was sprawled on the ground. Leon wasted no time and delivered the final blow, knocking him out cold. The man lay there, sword in hand, unconscious. Leon grabbed his belongings, pulled his Ranger's cloak on, through his quiver over his shoulder, and attached his belt which held his knife and sword. He grabbed his bow, and held one arrow ready to be nocked and shot. Leon closed his eyes, breathed in, and exited the tent. He came to a huge campsite, full of men, the followers of Clarke. The sound of him exiting the tent alerted them, they all stopped and looked at the Ranger.
    "Do not let him escape!" One shouted. They all roared as they charged towards the Ranger. He drew an arrow back and shot at the man nearest him, striking him in the chest and knocking him back. Leon turned, and ran as fast as he could. He put the bow over his shoulder, and drew his sword, heading for the forest. Arrows rained down on him, none of them had the skill and the prowess of a Ranger. He relaxed his pace a little as he neared the edge of the forest. The forest seemed to greet him, as though it knew who he was. An arrow whizzed past his ear, and he began picking up his pace again. Arrows still rained around him, none hit. Suddenly, one struck through his right calf, as he entered the foliage of the forest. He gasped with pain as he collapsed into the bushes, the arrow had gone clean through the muscle of his lower leg. He winced in pain, and could hear the roars of the soldiers growing as they neared his location. Leon's mind was racing, he had to think fast. He breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly, calming his mind and body. He pulled his Rangers cloak over him, covering his body. They were created to blend in with any background. He heard as they came closer and closer, banging their swords on their shields, creating an ominous boom to echo through the forest. Leon held his breath and waited, patient and hoping that they would not discover him.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    A Deity Gets Lonely Too.

    Jon Edwards

    [spoiler:14k4u234]Light in the darkness, but shadowed to the world, was I. Accepted only by some, yet feared by many. Seen by those who wish not to see me, and hidden to those who are open to my existence. Like a spoilt child, I yearn for what I do not possess, while I disregard and neglect what I have. But, I am no child. I have power, power to help, power to destroy. I can help those who do not help themselves, and destroy those who do, like a paranormal, supernatural "Robin Hood" of the modern era. The way I help is not by "stealing from the rich, and giving to the poor", it is more or less just help in itself which I deliver, whether it's a heavy rain during a raging bushfire or a calming breath onto a storm stricken sea, I help those who do not help themselves. With this power, comes separation. Isolation. I was subjugated by my power, marginalised from the "normals". My existence was naively ignored by the population I watched over with a worrying eye. Omnipotence and omniscience were not enough to fill my loneliness. I am lonely, it is a hard truth to accept, but one that I must. My loneliness has left me a shell of constant change. Days would go by, when I took the protection I provided to those below me, just to watch how they would react. Others, where I would use my power to make some lives worse. Was I proud? No, not even close. How could a deity suffer from depression and have symptoms of bipolar disorder? It makes no sense to me, and I am meant to be all knowing. The waves of sadness and depression envelop me and I begin to think of the "why". Why am I lonely? Because I have power. Power to help, but I can't help myself. Power to give my people happiness, but I cannot give myself happiness. In a sense, I am not all powerful. My isolation is my kryptonite. Is my loneliness just plain ignorance and naivety? or a longing for more interaction and social connection with humanity, the basis of which is a grasp at attention from the people whom I provide everything. Rain, sunshine, happiness and sadness. If I had the power to take my power, I would do it. It seems the only time I feel alone, is when I think of the "normals". Unfortunately, this is part of myself sacrifice, in order to bring the denizens of this world light and happiness. It seems, my sacrifice is worth it, to stop the world from collapsing and falling into caliginous anarchy.[/spoiler:14k4u234]


    Storm

    [spoiler:14k4u234]It begins softly. The quiet tap of the rain on the roof and windows is almost comforting. The slight gasp of the wind as it blows ever so gently, while the clouds begin to gather overhead, increasing in size and growing greyer and greyer by the second. As the clouds darken, the rain comes with more force and in larger numbers. The soft tipper tapper of the calming rain turns into an arsenal of watery artillery as it batters and clashes with the walls, windows and ceilings protecting us from the cold. The wind has found its voice, from the slight whisper it once was, it has grown into a screeching howl of destruction, in only a matter of seconds. Peering between the curtains, the winds force is notable. Trees are bending, flirting with breaking or being uprooted, whilst the rain falls horizontally and at a blistering speed. A flash casts a shadow of the angled trees and the houses withstanding the ferocity of mother nature, but for only a split second. Seconds pass since the lightning has illuminated the caliginous sky, until the low rumble of thunder quakes the ground and shakes the walls of my house. The sound booms and echoes across the entire city, proclaiming its dominance to all who inhabit this city. The lights flicker and flutter with each fluctuation of the sky, as more and more rain buckets and pours down onto the helpless buildings below. Another flash, lightning has struck, and the thunder follows suit immediately rumbling through sky with a deafening roar of dominance. The lights dim, and eventually give way, and now we are left in darkness, with only the flashes of lightning to reveal our path to the candles and torches to give us more light. Suddenly, a different light beams through our windows, as I peer through the curtains once more. The lightning has struck a tree, a small fire begins to burn quickly through the now dead wood. The pounding rain quickly put a stop to the fire, before it could spread, yet the devastation it has left remains. And then, silence. Nothingness. Not a drop of rain nor a gust of wind is heard or seen. A sense of safety, yet one attention should not be paid to. A naive mind would see this at the end, a seasoned one would see this as the beginning.[/spoiler:14k4u234]

  2. #2
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    Re: Jon's Creative Writing

    Chapter 5 added
    Edit: Chapter 6 added.
    Edit 2: Chapter 7 added.

  3. #3
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    Re: Jon's Creative Writing

    Update:


    A Deity Gets Lonely Too.

    Jon Edwards

    [spoiler:3fesqi7f]Light in the darkness, but shadowed to the world, was I. Accepted only by some, yet feared by many. Seen by those who wish not to see me, and hidden to those who are open to my existence. Like a spoilt child, I yearn for what I do not possess, while I disregard and neglect what I have. But, I am no child. I have power, power to help, power to destroy. I can help those who do not help themselves, and destroy those who do, like a paranormal, supernatural "Robin Hood" of the modern era. The way I help is not by "stealing from the rich, and giving to the poor", it is more or less just help in itself which I deliver, whether it's a heavy rain during a raging bushfire or a calming breath onto a storm stricken sea, I help those who do not help themselves. With this power, comes separation. Isolation. I was subjugated by my power, marginalised from the "normals". My existence was naively ignored by the population I watched over with a worrying eye. Omnipotence and omniscience were not enough to fill my loneliness. I am lonely, it is a hard truth to accept, but one that I must. My loneliness has left me a shell of constant change. Days would go by, when I took the protection I provided to those below me, just to watch how they would react. Others, where I would use my power to make some lives worse. Was I proud? No, not even close. How could a deity suffer from depression and have symptoms of bipolar disorder? It makes no sense to me, and I am meant to be all knowing. The waves of sadness and depression envelop me and I begin to think of the "why". Why am I lonely? Because I have power. Power to help, but I can't help myself. Power to give my people happiness, but I cannot give myself happiness. In a sense, I am not all powerful. My isolation is my kryptonite. Is my loneliness just plain ignorance and naivety? or a longing for more interaction and social connection with humanity, the basis of which is a grasp at attention from the people whom I provide everything. Rain, sunshine, happiness and sadness. If I had the power to take my power, I would do it. It seems the only time I feel alone, is when I think of the "normals". Unfortunately, this is part of myself sacrifice, in order to bring the denizens of this world light and happiness. It seems, my sacrifice is worth it, to stop the world from collapsing and falling into caliginous anarchy.[/spoiler:3fesqi7f]

  4. #4
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    Re: Jon's Creative Writing

    Another update, wrote this due to the storm that hit my city last night an over the past couple of days:


    Storm

    [spoiler:1je4rzs6]It begins softly. The quiet tap of the rain on the roof and windows is almost comforting. The slight gasp of the wind as it blows ever so gently, while the clouds begin to gather overhead, increasing in size and growing greyer and greyer by the second. As the clouds darken, the rain comes with more force and in larger numbers. The soft tipper tapper of the calming rain turns into an arsenal of watery artillery as it batters and clashes with the walls, windows and ceilings protecting us from the cold. The wind has found its voice, from the slight whisper it once was, it has grown into a screeching howl of destruction, in only a matter of seconds. Peering between the curtains, the winds force is notable. Trees are bending, flirting with breaking or being uprooted, whilst the rain falls horizontally and at a blistering speed. A flash casts a shadow of the angled trees and the houses withstanding the ferocity of mother nature, but for only a split second. Seconds pass since the lightning has illuminated the caliginous sky, until the low rumble of thunder quakes the ground and shakes the walls of my house. The sound booms and echoes across the entire city, proclaiming its dominance to all who inhabit this city. The lights flicker and flutter with each fluctuation of the sky, as more and more rain buckets and pours down onto the helpless buildings below. Another flash, lightning has struck, and the thunder follows suit immediately rumbling through sky with a deafening roar of dominance. The lights dim, and eventually give way, and now we are left in darkness, with only the flashes of lightning to reveal our path to the candles and torches to give us more light. Suddenly, a different light beams through our windows, as I peer through the curtains once more. The lightning has struck a tree, a small fire begins to burn quickly through the now dead wood. The pounding rain quickly put a stop to the fire, before it could spread, yet the devastation it has left remains. And then, silence. Nothingness. Not a drop of rain nor a gust of wind is heard or seen. A sense of safety, yet one attention should not be paid to. A naive mind would see this at the end, a seasoned one would see this as the beginning.[/spoiler:1je4rzs6]


 

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