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 Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 5:04 am
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 5:11 am
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Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 4:25 am
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 12:21 am
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Posted: Fri Dec 13, 2013 4:00 am
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Posted: Sun Dec 15, 2013 11:39 pm
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Posted: Mon Dec 16, 2013 11:37 pm
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Posted: Tue Dec 17, 2013 11:37 pm
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Posted: Thu Dec 19, 2013 12:47 am
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Posted: Thu Dec 19, 2013 11:40 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 14, 2014 8:12 am
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The next 10 parts of this Challenge will be Short Stories.
Enjoy the words of written Art.
011. Guardian Angels
“White dresses… Fabrics of silver and gold…clinging their fragile fingers around the handle of blades and spear… They are faceless… Motionless… Pointless… Protecting the helpless…and the believers… White wings of soft doves… Heavenly grace… Such a thing does not exist… They are warriors… Murderers…just like us… Just like me… I know them best… I have seen their cruelty… Their delusions of justice… Hated me… They just hated me… Just for what half of me was… Not for what I have done… I killed so many of those claimed to be my own kin… My brothers and sisters… Useless… Talking is so useless… They won’t listen… … …You know what they have done? What they gave me as ‘thanks’ for killing the devils and demons burning their precious holy house? … …They cut my shadow…off my feet… They ripped it off… Painful… Such suffering…such…violence…and pain, I cannot bare to describe with words… And then they burned it in light… …Cooked it in the white fire…that breaches the clouds on days awakening… I was going to be enflamed like my shadow…but master has freed me… …freed me…and gave me another chance… …to fight…and survive…or to fail and die… I accepted and…hell… …he send me away… Down into the darkest pit…of what one mind could…image…in the words so easily spoken… … …Emptiness… …I searched its borders…walked its streets… This world of forgotten realms…of lost civilizations… This requiem of phantoms and spirits…never named…never born…never buried… …It is maddening me… How can anything like this exist? …I hunted and was hunted several times… One was more tenacious than the others… A phantom…a spirit… darker than the endless sky of this cursed world… It chased me…in the form of a man… Pieces of ripped cloth embracing it ethereal being…and shaping its body… …But soon it rose to be a monster… A horse, like I have never seen… Its disfigured skull sends shivers down my back… Its growl was deeper than the howling of Cania’s eternal blizzards at night… …Shadows cling to its limbs and the hooves melt the memories beneath its steps. It was a massive construct of bones, shades and metal… I have never witnessed such horror… I ran and it chased me. I fled and it followed right after. There was nowhere to hide… …Soon we reached the borders I have crossed so often now… The emptiness revealed itself at last and opened its jaw, draining the memories… Feasting upon the shadows… …I stabbed my sword into the blackness of this world, unsure if it would save me… The beast still tried to catch me, but it got caught into the voids stream… … …Without knowing why, I reached for it and grabbed its jaw, holding both of us… It bid my hand… The blood dripped on its skull as the void strengthened… I pushed my sword deeper into the dark and prayed… Prayed and cried… I wanted to live… …I wanted it to live… Hours went by and my strength was to fade… …My lord be praised for the void ended its hunger and closed its heart, leaving me and the beast in the ruins of the hollow realm… …It let go of my hand gently and stroke its iron snout carefully over my cheeks… I lived… It lived… My heart beat returned… I breathed once more… It offered me to ride it and I accepted…. …It carried me through a stream, broken from the chain of empty and hollow feelings… It was a world like one might only see in a dream… Colorful…Cheerful…Hopeful…Happy… I felt like I was asleep… Like the reality was already dead… …Maybe I had died… …The beast brought me back to my master…my lord… I yelled at him…scared of what I had run through… Three days…He just said… You’ve been gone for three days… I cried and went on my knees… The sun was about to catch me… Would I die… But my lord smiled… Hands embraced me from behind… The beast has become a man again… …He leaned against my back… …What it said…never left me… …As he never left… …for he…became my shadow… …”
“My honor is yours… …my guardian…angel… …My service…shall be paid…in…eternity… …or when Emptiness cease to exist…”
“A guardian angels… No… They are not people, knights or maidens dressed in purity, with wings of white… They are not the guides of heavenly order… Their words are not justice…
Guardian Angels…are people…ready to do the right…of what they feel is right… …They help despite their hatred… ..And they would sacrifice all…to protect you… …I know it…for I am…and I have…a Guardian Angel.”
~Spoken by the Guildmaster Sicil the Halfblood Demon Prince - aka Silent Shadow~
Book II - Chapter 27 - The Hollow
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 12:57 am
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 1:16 am
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013. Consequence
We had fought...
He came to us with the blessing of his uncle. Always so silent, always so perfect and never he had to fear his anger. His uncle’s disappointment in us can grow to be fearsome sometimes, but we are called prodigies for a reason. Yet he never had to fear it at all. Even if he made critical mistakes, he would get away with it constantly. How is that fair to us who work harder than him?
We had fought...
He has done it again. His lyrics are weird and impersonal, yet have this mysterious power that draws you in. The melody he plays on the piano is like a magic ribbon of silk, thinner than air, but it pulls you into trance. He’s smiling while he plays, but his eyes look so empty and arrogant. I can’t stand watching him.
We had fought...
I finally cracked under the pressure when his uncle decided to give him more stage time. We are a band of six and he already became center point of our group. It took him only three month to come that far. Three month while I had to work for this my whole life. I couldn’t take it anymore. I yelled and bickered with all the hate and despise in my heart. He did not react on it at all. He stared at me like a doll, a lifeless puppet. I cursed his fortune, his talent and family and he just raised his shoulders. But when I humiliated his uncle, he cracked and pounced at me. He punched me and tried to suffocate me, screaming. I could see the anger in his eyes. The eyes of constant emptiness... Suddenly he let go of me and back away frightened. He ran outside our apartment and was gone before someone got a hold of him. It was fine by me at that time, even though the others thought I was too harsh on him.
We had fought...
That night I couldn’t sleep. The cell phone rung and I picked up. It was him. He was sobbing on the other end. “Sorry...”, he cried with a stuttering voice and hung up. I’ve got a bad feeling. I called his uncle and made sure he was okay. But nobody responded. With this uncertainty scratching at the back of my head, I ran outside and hurried to my motorcycle. I drove directly to his house and slammed my fist against the door. One of the butlers heard me and I even woke up his uncle. With a lout yell, I tried to get his attention. “Where is your nephew?!”, I asked an he just stared at me. I repeated my question and he looked upstairs in fear. We three ran up to find his room empty. He was not here. I saw the soft light from the bathroom at the end of the hallway and ran towards it. I knocked at the door and shouted, but no response. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Within our panic we knocked the door open...and stood in shock...before him...
We had fought...
Tubes and cables are now all over you. The constant noises of this blasted machinery that is now the beat of your heart. Here in this white room with the view towards the Stadium. We were going to play there next month. Hundreds of people wanted to see us and hear our music. Yet all the music I hear now is that beeping sound of the life support. One week... It already has been one week... I feel like I never had left this room since then. Bandages cover your arms and face. I can still see the blood on the floor of the bathroom were we found you. Your uncle is sitting on the opposite site of the bed, holding your hand. He’s praying each day that you will awake. I just stand...in silence...with your last choking word ringing in my ears in coalition to the life supports rhythm. And finally you awake...
We had fought...
Your glassy, empty eyes stare to the ceiling. Your uncle takes your hand and strokes your hair in relieve. Tears in his eyes, but not in mine... I just stand there, watching. I don’t know what I should say. Suddenly you speak, peaking with your eye towards me. “Sorry...”, again you say. It kills me inside. “Sorry...”, you say, “...that I survived.... I try harder next time...” I couldn’t believe it. I broke down on my knees. This was too much to take. And my tears ran free. After all the yelling, the cursing and the humiliation I cast upon you, your talent and family...you apologize for surviving? Your uncle explained it to me after we left you with the doctor. A mental disease... And I never even saw this coming... A genius within the realm of musical aspirations... You suffered from it since you were born. Your parents died before they even had time to understand, but your uncle took you in. He raised you with much frustration, but saw what marvel and magic slumbered behind those empty eyes. Your mind is a maze and your spirit wishes to scream, but it takes time to reach the end...only to engage a new maze afterwards... You felt that you were a burden to all... That...is why you apologized...
You wrote the story of a nightingale that could not sing or fly yet makes music like the woodpecker. It would meet a crow that wishes to sing and admired it for its crocked voice and strong wings... ...I wonder... ...Where you that little nightingale?
We had fought...and even though I never raised my hand in violence....I nearly killed you...
I should be the one to apologize...not you...
-Diary entry 08/07 Sel Gasino-
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 1:19 am
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 1:22 am
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Week III
015. Explosion
“Sometimes the rumbling of destruction wakes me in the morning. I was lying on my sofa, that old half rotting thing I found in an abandoned part of the base. Each day it is something different. Spy arguing with Scout, Engineer fixing machinery, Pyro chasing Soldier and Heavy through the corridors or Demoman testing new explosives... I just want my peace... The pillow in hand, I get up and throw it at the window. As if anyone would hear that. Ha! And yet another wave of thundering noise pressed against the walls. So I decide to get out of my restless sleep and begin the day, earlier than the rooster would cry. Swiftly as I am, I dress myself and clean my hair. The coat over the shoulders, the teeth scrubbed and I was off before the next explosion shook up the room. When I went outside, I nearly ran into Medic, who was dazzled and occupied with some book. Probably a medical study or something... He greeted me with a wave of his hand and moved to the Medical Bay. ‘Mornin’, I mumbled before leaving for the garage. You could hear Demoman’s laughter throughout the building. On the stairway, I spotted Scout running in my direction with a big sandwich in his hands. Heavy yelled after him furiously. I figured that he, yet again, stole his breakfast. I dodged him halfway and stole the sandwich from him, giving it back to Heavy. Scout ran back to snatch it away a second time, but I pushed the sheath of my Katana between his steps and made him stumble, sending him flying into a water barrel close to the lower staircase. Another explosion rumbled through the open garage door and made every table and vehicle vibrate like crazy. Engineer yelled at Demoman who was standing outside, drinking again, but he just ignored it and laughed like a maniac. Spy approached the barrel in which Scout was stuck and kicked it over. Scout coughed and tried to yell at me at the same time. I just smirked and raised my shoulders, passing Heavy, who happily ate his sandwich. Downstairs I greeted both Soldier and Spy with a short nod before heading for the coffee machine. Engineer was tinkering with the Turrets again. He had his earmuffs on, but I guess that it does not help much with the noise and quakes Demoman produced. I took my cup from the shelf and poured some coffee in. Medic passed by with some notes in hand. I sighed tired and went off again. I still could hear them talking and yelling, but I understood no word. My eyes were heavy and I felt like collapsing, while getting upstairs on the opposite side of the garage. The hallway was empty for a while. I took a sip from my cup and pulled my legs forward, slowly. Again an explosion... How long will this last this time? Pyro came out of one room. He waved at me, mumbling something that others would hardly understand. His hand pointed at me and the other at his face. I nodded slightly and yawned. ‘Wish I could remember when I last slept eight hours without disturbances.’ I said to him and chuckled slightly, ‘I try and get some rest now... Promise... Although it is not depending on me here...’ Another explosion broke the quiet of the hall. Pyro growled. Maybe he was unhappy about this as much as I was. I raised my shoulders and passed by him. ‘See you. I’m going to the watchtower.’ With that I left him to his business and continued down the hall. The explosions were more frequent now. Rumbling and deep howling echoed through the base. The walls were shaking and I sighed even deeper. The last stairway I had to climb was that old wooden ladder thing with the trapdoor on the end. I stumbled up there exhausted from this rude awakening this morning and tried to encourage myself to smile. ‘Morning...’, I greeted the last member of our colorful crew. He spied outside through the scope of his gun. Sniper was sitting on the black couch’s back and kept watch for any enemy intruders. He also had a cup of coffee here, probably the same as me. We both have much in common somehow. I sack down on the old worn out couch and sighed deeply. My eyes were too heavy. I couldn’t resist the calling. My cup slowly left the grip of my hands, but a sudden explosion pulled me right back up. I nearly spilled the coffee all over my pants. Frustrated I hit the couch again and growled. ‘Argh... Sometimes I wish I was deaf!’ Sniper laughed at me. ‘Well, that would be kind of problematic in battle afterwards.’, he said and I pouted sour, wishing for Demoman to actually get hit by something to make him stop. Suddenly Engineer came up too us. ‘Here kid.’ He threw a pair of his earmuffs over to me and smirked. ‘Might not help much with the quakes and shaking walls, but it’ll do just fine with the noise.’ I looked at him confused. Did he follow me up here just to give me these? I put them on and adjusted them. His head was bigger than mine, so it wouldn’t fit otherwise. The silence was immediate. The sweet quiet... Even though I felt the shaking of the building, this silence was golden to me. Satisfied I smiled, close my eyes and fell into the couch. Sweet dreams awaited me now after this torture of explosions. I hope I can keep these. As I drift off into my peaceful sleep, I think... They are lout and noisy... They are impolite, uncivilized and sometimes pretty annoying... Yet I would never wish to trade my place among them with anyone else in the world...”
-Pit Memo – 20th Day at the Mercenary Base-
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