Tag Archives: Writing for teens

The Diary of an Immortal. Chapters 6 – 9


Chapter 6

We are on a rock held road which is the cause for me to be mildly thrown side to side in this fast paced box; I peek out of the curtain of the carriage. The sun is dangling on the mountain’s peak getting ready to plunge from its balance and hide behind the panorama, the stars are faint in the sky as nights sky is fitting into its clothing.

Suddenly, it jitters through me like being struck by a lightning bolts will, my motor functions become unmanned, unpredictable with a slight proportion of paralysis. My hands grab anything that I can constrict. The night has its hold, I snap back to the hell and tedium of this world with the gritting of my teeth, but Beth is still dancing in the back of my mind. The horse’s pants are every two gallops of their hooves.

“Ease up, ease it!” The driver chases at the horses ears.

The door flings open to show a gigantic home, clinging to the buildings skin is dying ivy, murdered by the weather.

I step closer to the building with a disruption of patience, I did not want to be here, I could leave, but I must keep up my appearance to these people. People descend from their carts, like rain drops from the skies. The women wore dresses of many colors, but some stuck to the traditional white, to me they all looked like upside-down flowers, with their honey located in their special of places, passing it out to whomever takes fancy to them, when the nectar of alcohol curses their extremities to sexual desirous acts. The men with them are no better, covering up their homosexuality with marriage and the search for an heir, in the wombs they had no pleasure in delivering life towards.

I stand out-of-place in front of the carriage watching the greedy hearts meet and greet one another, they do not take well to money, they do not suit even the pockets they inhabit, just like the dinner table they are full but still seeking more. I skim through the main window people are gathered, holding up glasses to one another; congratulating their greatness, in the bottom right window they are dancing in synchronize with turns and twirls. At the top, a couple are in the middle of a kissing contest, ravishing each other’s faces with the thought of what they are doing is named as passion. I turn my head only catching a glimpse of the last window in my withdrawal; I face my carriage and put my arm out to leave, with a peculiar notion. I spin around.

“Did I just see her, the girl from the market? I only caught her tone and smile, but it is unquestionable as the notion I feel was her.”

I retrace my backwards steps and walk up the path, to the doors, to the woman. The light from the main door unrolls over the ground, filching my steps and imagination. I pace through the arch way, making myself known to the There he is. I revolve, inspecting everything and one. The house was modern, oak flooring kept warm by ruby carpets that only took up parts of the walking space and ghost like walls with hanging ghosts.

“Special guest presiding – Lord Maze Celestial!” A speaker shouts from the top balcony.

Everyone stops, the music stops and the dancers halting their twirls, waiters and waitresses hold their platters and everyone else just their stares. The new money and quietly rich, get in their standpoint, just to claim a look at the most successful man ever to live, in their minds. I place the back of my hand at the lower of my spine and begin to float through the quietly spoken love and dislike “There he is…” and “How much money do you think he really has…?” and “I wonder what he is like under the sheets?” even “It is unlikely that someone who well-to-do became that prosperous by working inside the rules, he had to have stolen it or killed for it, they say that his father died of unknown circumstances, I am thinking he was probably sleeping and he came into his room with a pillow and held it over his father’s face, that should give you a great bank account number.” But with money comes envy.

I have to acknowledge them, I do with slight bows and smiles this has no longer become a banquet to praise me but to perhaps get a name from the kiss I received earlier.

“Maze, you are finally here, I would like to introduce you to a few well named people over here.” Verntro says while ushering me towards strangers with half a glass of scotch but by this morning climbs back I would have forgotten their faces and names, so they could not have been that well named.

“This is Lord and Lady…” Then I zone out staring through these people with smiles and nods looking for her.

Others adore me with pats on the back as they walk behind me. My patience was finally tested by all of this. Verntro stands on top of a chair.

“And here he is ladies and gentlemen, the man of the year, Lord Maze. I knew this young man’s father and I am not jesting, he has broken from his father’s shadow and forged a new destiny and surpassed his father in every ways of charity within our beautiful flourishing country. And in honor of us on this splendid evening of evenings, we or should I say all of us would like to give you a token of our appreciation.” Verntro says slurring his words; he must have had a few glasses of a vineyard’s finest before I arrived.

A young woman, it is her, walks over to Verntro and hands him a darkened wood box with a glass lid, he takes the box from her and indicates his hands outwards towards my space. My eye shift to the box, in the back of my mind I don’t want this box in my hand just her in my eyes, trying my hardest not to glance up. I take the box and stand in near death to be taking a gift from the lowlife that were made from the money and effort of the true workers of the communities. Inside the box was a medal with a lion crest pressed into the metal.

“Thank you all so much, from the deepest gorge of my heart, I am a little lost for words at the moment but thank you all, I will treasure it always.” I manage to throw out.

A round of applause circulates through the main room, I stand in smoke and mirrors with my smile, I look through the crowds, market girl is pressed against the wall at the back of the room with the largest applaud, she stood out to me as if she truly meant it, hers was the only one I counted.

I had dealt with the escape from Verntro with ease introducing him to someone more intoxicated than him. I diagonally walk through the other drinkers; she has her back to me with a silver platter, carrying booze for the unthankful guests of Verntro’s. She is wearing a grey blouse and long black skirt, down to her feet, in her hair she has a white cloth that keeps her hair back and her face exposed.

I am right behind her, should I tap her on her shoulder? Excuse me, Miss, but do you remember me? I cannot say that, it implies that she should remember me. I could always ask her how the ring fits. That’s awful; it has only been a few hours.

She spins around, at first she does not know my face; there is just a blank stare that she had shown to perhaps one hundred people tonight. She stops her thoughts that she would like to speak.

“Would you like a beverage, sir?” She asks.

“No, but I would like to talk like we did today in the market place, miss.” I say hoping for a positive response.

“We met today sir? I’m working, the only thing I am allowed to do is ask if you would like a drink, Master Maze.”

“Don’t call me that ever, it is just Maze to you, I do not care about your job title or how any person in this building thinks. I just want to talk.” She is deterrent still and walks away with no answer.

“Today in the marketplace, no woman at any time in my life has challenged my word and finished it with a kiss, a friend is all I want, I pledge, you will not get in trouble.” holding my hands together in a praying action. She stands rubbing the frustration from her brow and begins to nod.

“But we have to go upstairs to the balcony, so I don’t get caught. There is fewer people up there.” She says.

“Lead the way.” Holding out my palm to show her the direction to the stairs, she looks around to see if she would be seen. The working woman in her is saying, no, do your job, but the market girl in her tells her, yes, have some fun. I traipse up the stairs and walk behind the woman to the outside balcony.

We both post ourselves at the wall, staring out towards an endless black sky, sharing the stars and seconds of silence together. The wind quiets down.

“I am Bethany Sampson, but people around here just call me Beth.” She tells me.

“I am guessing I don’t need an introduction, but it’s such a great relief I now know your name.” I say, she laughs.

“I did not think for a second you were, Lord Maze, perhaps a banker or solicitor, but nothing close to the richest man ever to walk these lands.”

She has a slight disappointment in her eyes.

“Believe it, but to tell you the truth, I do not want this life, I feel poverty and failure coursing through me, but when you have a lot of money, it’s hard to get rid of it than to attain it.”

“I will have it, if you do not want it” We both laugh at her joke.

“I won’t give away my money, but if you let me I will show you the effects of happiness it can bring, if you let me.”

“What do you mean?” She is confused with a stare.

Embarrassment drips waterfalls over me, Just say it, Maze.

“Have dinner with me, any food your heart desires, any wine your tongue requests, it will be yours.”

She stands stunned, picking up her empty silver platter and walking in a runaway, did I say something wrong? I quickly grab her dangling arm. She tries her hardest not to share eyes.

“No, I can’t, the results could be real bad for me, if it was to go wrong, I… I don’t think I can.” She pleads for mercy from what I want.

The ring, I see it wrapped around her neck on a piece of string. I hold it in-between my fingers.

“It kept on falling off, every time I put on my finger, so I put it around my neck to keep it close to me.” She says.

I remove her head-scarf and comb back her black hair, removing it from her face to see her blossom in my memory. Her thoughts are giving into submission, she lifts her head, her bottom lips tries its hardest not to quiver in a nervous fit, either that or the cold had really gotten to her. I remove one of my gloves and blow warmth into it and place it on the side of her face, her head moves into it with her eyes closed, she tries to hide an exhale, it prolongs from her as it was her first and last. Her hand cases mine keeping me there for as long as possible, we are here forever it feels.

“Oh, my lord, you are chasing after the help, I would never have taking you for loving, dirties, Maze; if you wanted a woman, I could have arranged one that didn’t wear a head-scarf, by the way, where is yours?” Verntro had come looking for me, glass in hand, feathers on his feet and no order in his movement.

Beth stands back from me; her eyes are hooked to the floor. Verntro stares at her and her two smudged sisters.

“I think you better get back to work, my little slave girl.” Verntro sights rest upon Beth’s position in this world.

“Verntro, it is not her fault, she is who she is, just leave her be. I was the one who instigated our meeting, do not blame her.” I implore to him.

Beth takes back her scarf and grabs her empty platter and speeds away downstairs, back to the gathering, she strikes at the tears that slid down her face and hangs on her top lip. Verntro slithers up to me.

“I now know that you are not better than me, because I have something you want and I promise you that I am not willing to part with my possessions, like you, oh, Beth told me about the ring you had given her, extremely charming.”

I throw my face in front of his.

“I am not in the mood for this Verntro, I will be partial to whomever I am attracted too and you and no one else will tell me different.” I say with ferociousness, its evil hold slowly tiptoeing its way back to my imagination. I could pluck out his eyeballs so he could never put his ugly look upon Beth again, I could heave out his tongue so he could not speak wrong words of her again, take his fingers from his hands so the last thing he felt was his own fear. His eyes are blood hounding me but are being led away by the devil whispers of alcohol.

“I will let your words go as you are not of sober mind, Verntro, consider this your warning, do not underestimate me because of my sober actions.” I say to him, bringing myself back to tranquility. Verntro’s head bobs in midair like waste in water, he is not worth my effortless hunt.

I break our eye exchange and pace slowly away with clenched fists I keep by my side, undeterred in each step to lastly let him know that he has unaffected me, trailing his red carpet I reach the edge of the stairway, finally I turn and have a look at my enemy for the night. He sways like a tree in the wind, with a bowed head and angry narrowed eyes that tear strips from me and my intentions, but it is no longer my intentions that I am fretting over, it is shown in the corner of his small smile; he has a plan. I must forget about him.

I trudge down the stairs almost in a stampede; I must get out, not letting this atmosphere on my behalf hold me here any longer than I need to be. I reach the bottom step; Beth is nowhere in sight, just the reality that these people are ugliest of the low, not in beauty but nature. The under-toned women stand behind their spouses against the wall areas, ghost whispering about their bedroom brawls and unsatisfied sexual antics. The women pan the room trapping with sexual desire young adolescent men who have recently been established as wealthy as a passed away relative has left them their inheritance, plus into the bargain the women would always disgrace their marriage when their husbands are working, leaving them with a young man’s body upon their used skin.

The low laughing men gather in groups in the middle of the rooms, strangling their brandy glasses in one hand and attached to their fingers are imported cigars, their stance is power filled and uncaring, badmouthing the world that has giving them everything, but never enough, hiding the fact they have homosexual feelings for one another, I am still farfetched from the root to their attraction to other men but I have come to the conclusion that it is either their own vanity and have fallen in love with the mirrors of themselves or just their penises against another’s penis.

I barge by the crowds; they notice the dwindling tone of my mood and lack of eye contact by my vertically aimed eyebrows. I break out in a burst for freedom to the outdoors, the cold air calms me, the unsightly try to entice me back with supple looks to lure me back to their cave of eternal darkness, no. My heartbeats were galloping and I couldn’t slow the shakes of what I should have said and done. I speed walk towards the carriage, Benjamin flicks away a cigarette.

“Sir, has the banquet finished already?” He says replacing the smoke with fresh air.

“Yes, the company I keep should be better thought out, because you never know what they are truly thinking.” I reply.

“Home?” He says; fasten up the buttons on his overcoat.

“No, not for me, you go, I will get a horse from Verntro; just need some cold air to settle my frame of mind. Have a nice night.”

“Thank you, sir… Come on, lads!” He climbs on to the seat of the carriage and begins to whip the leather harnesses and trots away.

I stare back, I finally realize I do not need this world, this world needs me. Smile blessed and free, a breath living within my lung and saved wealth within my bank, what more could I want… Beth.

I walk in the opposite direction to my detention named, Verntro Manor, towards a wooden fence, the moss on it has grown and evolved in to its own nature. I jump it and walk until I am in the void of the valley that is infested with grass that rises to the waist. Not even the sharpest of eyes could see me from here, I stare back anyway as history has always caught up to the present, time and time again for not being cautious when I feel untouchable. Verntro’s home was a black jewelry box that emanated light to the forests around it. I reach into my overcoat and pull out a pair of black gloves and a large piece of cloth; I kneel and fold and re-fold the cloth on my knee, then wrap it around the bottom part of my face, nose and mouth, tying it behind my head, I slip on the gloves. I spin around and charge for the heavens with both fists, the cold airs pincers latch on to my visible skin, the sky seems endless as I glare into its millions of eyes but beneath me seemed empty to the movers of the world. I slow to a halt; I can see the glow of Kingston lodged in-between two monstrous mountains; the churches steeple gives it away as it is the only building I can place my vision upon. A black sheet of secret kept the ground asleep.

The calmness of the world scares me; it reminds me of my third wife, Amyala, a true beauty.

Chapter 7

Brown hair, wide wild brown eyes that pull you towards her, she was like a love poem that you had to read four or five lines before the plot became apparent. It was about three thousand years ago in Greece, the weather for the time of year was especially warm, the country had just gotten over a drought that had taken a few lives, but we were in the midst of a long needed storm that had been like a vengeful God in the sky for three whole days, throwing lightening everywhere and shaking the floor with his genuine voice. The sun had been dragged by ropes beneath the end of the world’s line. I lived on a cliffs edge next to the sea, which was often raged with Poseidon’s wrath.

The home I lived in was only a wooden box, with one obscure hole in the wall for windows, a dining room, bedroom and a cooking area. I was a sheep farmer and was enjoying life. My memory of this time had faded and details of her had just been overtaken by time.

I come bursting through the door, ragged and filthy, with a leaking bucket of water; I waddle to a ceramic bowl and pour the water in.

“Petra, you’re home; I thought you had gotten swept away by the current.” she shows her head from the bedroom.

“Lucky for you, I did not” I say out of breath.

“Yes, lucky for me…” She says in a sarcasm tone.

“Does my love bestow a joke on me?”

Amyala runs over to me throwing her arms around my neck and locks it with a kiss from her warm lips.

“Jokes and kisses… I must have done something right, for a change.”

“No, nothing, just for you being you, plus you need all the love you can get as your wife of twenty-three days may steal it and run with it forever.”

“She would not dare… But as I think about it, she does seem like the sort.” I put on the face of a scary mythical creature that haunts caves and eats virgin girls. She is impervious to the laughable mask.

“Have you brought in the herd? I don’t want them to wander in to Eldorado’s land again.” She asks.

“Done and dusted, do not worry, I have taken care of everything, we shall eat then go to bed, without a worry on our minds.”

She kisses me again and releases her grip, turning and walking into the kitchen, I stare at her perfectly made body, her skin had been breathed on by the sun, her beautiful backend swayed like a butterfly on a gentle wind, I cannot help but stare. I walk over to a cylinder pot and pull out two spoons.

I take hold of my chest, my heart attempts to bash through my chest, I feel the tears rush to my eye line, the animal behind my ribs were thrashing and snapping at all of my other insides. The two spoons fall to their doom and my breath becomes cursed by the evil within my heart, which leads me to the idea of food. I hadn’t eaten in one and a half moons. Amyala was silent in the dark of my secret, the reason was she was an innocent and I longed for normal.

Amyala retreats back to the main room with two bowls of soup, she see me in agony and quickly places the bowls on the old dried-out wooden table.

“What happened?” She says, holding up my head so we were eye to deranged eye. I manage to catch one breath that sets my lungs back into their rightful place.

“I lost my footing.” She wraps her arms around me once again, picking me up to my feet, I cannot blink, the frenzy had taken shape as a thought I had banished to the recesses of me, I did not want to hurt her, but there are forces within my world more powerful than love. Half of me wanted to run but the other needed its taste of love before death.

I bury my head tenderly into her hair until I am nestled in her neck. My body quivers as I unbolt my doors from myself. I place my hands on her shoulders and push her back; she takes a few back steps and is stopped by the wall. I fall back to my knees.

“Do not you come near me, you run, run now!” I shout at her sight, I must hate her.

“I will stay by you, I can help.” She replies.

I look up; she is still beautiful in her worried state. My eyes begin to build up and send tears to their suicide and turning my pupils black with truth.

“Please tell me what to do, Petra?” She asks with tears and a quiet voice. Petra? …Not anymore. I jitter and jerk, trying to hold back myself.

Nothingness is my strength but love has no place within me, she is not love, she is but routine, a face I have placed in my memory enough times to think she is my one. Trickery is her technique, which she shines on a fragile man’s heart. A favor gifted to this world, if you do what is in my nature. I am strong enough to conquer but not to say no, making my nothingness also my weakness.

It stops, moisture hangs on a line from my bottom lip. I raise my right hand up above me and use the table as my support to bring myself back to my feet. She looks on in cower, should she help? Should she get help? Should she heed my words and run? These things troubled her as they dart into one another inside her final judgment.

I collapse in tire; my chin is bowed into my chest, closed eyes, my nose touching a rock dusted floor. My hands are covering my head as my spine jilts me forwards with spasms, every other second. Suddenly it stops; she kneels with watchfulness, a warm hand of hers takes a steep to my level. As if her hands can heal this hurt, I shoot up until her eternal tears reflecting in her eyes mirror the hell within mine. I run through the opened door, I run and run and I ran, through the branches and jagged stones that attack my feet’s bottom. I am brought down and down again by this inhumane famine pain, crashing me into plant life and rocks, that cut, spread blood and open me, I bleed on the elements. The clouds begin to brew in the sky with the dark colors of black, blues and purples; the ocean is the first to lose his temper throwing punches at the cliff side.

I lose ground as I come to an edge; I stare down, blackened razor-sharp fingers stick out from the water. If I end this now, I cannot have her. My world bypasses my eyes; it just sits in distortion, I know it’s still in motion but its gathering dust. My murderer’s breath is shared with the sea air.

“Life or death, neither would survive within me if only I had committed to my true nature.” I stand, giving guilt to the sky.

There is no one in sight, with a world so large and with so many born and walking, why do I live with this feeling of loneliness. My arms and eyelids seem heavy and my legs want to snap with my evil weight. I take a leap with no faith or effort; I fall towards the rocks, hoping for impalement. The clouds shift together and cover up the stars; this fall seems like forever to end.

I hit the rocks, no impalement, just immense pain, ripped and broken, half in the water and half not, unable to move. The water comes in and drags me with its waving hands, pulling me in with its shift then throwing me forward back into the rocks. Black…

I am awakened by screaming birds and a seething light that wheedles its way through an opening in the twig roofing. How did I get back home? It is peculiar, I feel normal as normal would give. I lift up my hands, clothed in dry blood. No, I couldn’t have, could I? Not Amyala. This is not possible; I was dying in the water. There is no way in this world’s hell I could have brought myself back from the brink of Hades. This maybe a dream or perhaps last night was a dream? Then whose blood is this. I thrash my hands all over my body to see if I was wounded, nothing. I sit up from my hay bed that has been bagged in cloth for a sleep. I climb off from the rustles, the floor was damp the house must have gained a leak as the roof wasn’t that able to hold off all the water because of the gaps. I peer around the corner in to the main room. Blood, red, insides, body parts, scarlet drips, Amyala was everywhere, nothing was recognizable. Her blood was in puddles on the floor and smears on the walls. The main wall to the hut had been reduced to rubble, only a demon from Hades could have done this diabolical act, It must have been me, I was that demon… Forgive me Amyala.

Chapter 8

I come back to the now. Still airborne from Verntros banquet, still with disgust for Verntro, to this day I ask for forgiveness from Amyala, she just never knew. A gust of wind slams against me, a cold fear was carried on it and it was coming from Kingston. My eyes fix and I shoot like a bolt towards the town, passing clouds and night birds, weaving through them. Once I reach the town, I slow just so I can either see the trouble or hear the screams.

“HELP!” A scream comes from a few narrow streets away. Chimneys are at full burn and make fake clouds; I land on a pubs roof, stepping on the edge, staring down at the street. I hear the hard breath of a woman; I run over to the other side and glance down, am I in time to do my job? A young woman has been cornered like a wild animal by two drunken poachers. They both are taunting her with their hands, trying to grab hold of her dress but she is strong and knows she must put up the fight.

“Get away from me, please, get….!” She fights with her words.

One man manages to get hold of her, he head butts her; she falls to the ground with a crack to the back of the head due to the cobbles, dazed eyes and blooded face. The two men circle and shadow her, staring at both of them, she knows their next move but which one will do the evil first? Both men look at each other with the idea of rape; one speedily kneels, already grunting to the idea of forced sex as holds the young woman’s arms down, while the other wriggles with his belt with one hand and with the other ripping and trying to pull up the woman’s dress.

She screams her hardest.

No more, I leap from the buildings top with opened arms with a somersault roll before I land a few yards from the culprits and the young woman. The man waiting his turn, picks his head up slowly to my direction, mouth opened with no teeth. He is kneeling, watching the war in my eye, the other man is still figuring out how to undo his belt buckle, so I am unnoticed by him. I run in for battle with so much rage in each footstep. The knelt man is shock-stunned to my advance, too bad he had no teeth as I kick him full pelt at the bottom part of his jaw, something’s broken, sending him flying from the ground like a paper ball, through a glass window of the pub. By this time I am seen by the other, he had finally gotten his trousers down to his ankles but after he had seen what I had done to his partner in crime, sex was off the menu for him.

He stands and about turns without lifting his feet, trying to gather his trousers up to his waist. I run after him, grabbing his jumper behind his neck and carrying him off in flight across the street, threw the opposite alleyway into the darkness, now he is the one who is screaming for help, I climb higher and higher and he cries harder. I am about half a mountain side up in the air when I let go, fear must have cut off his tongue as there was no scream going back down from him.

I stare back, is that woman in good health to make it home? I better check… I speed back to the alleyway where she laid and land on the street in front. She is still lying there, shaking. I stare closer as familiarity grips me. I know her, it is the street-walker from a few days ago, the one who propositioned me and I had told her this would happen. I will not gloat to her, she may remember my face and that is the last thing I need.

I pace up to her, she tries to shuffle away with the balls of her feet on the wet ground, through puddles.

“My dear, are you in health to make it back to your home by yourself?” I ask in a deepened voice.

She stops and looks at me queer, she nods, her lips quivers with the gash.

“Yes, I think so, yes… Are you going to kill me, like those men? Please, please don’t.” She says, with tears on her speech.

“You have nothing to fear, my dear, if I wanted you dead, I would have let the scum take you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Another nod, I bow back, my service is done. I stare back up to the sky and leave the ground, my long coat trails behind me, flickering like a rouge flame and cracking at my feet.

Bethany, if she knew me, the true me, she would not want to know me. I shouldn’t even try, one day she will die and I would be left with the lost gap again. It would save a lot of hassle if I just made sure I never went near her, let her live her life without the pain. She doesn’t need any trouble like that. And what would happen if one month I could not control myself and take her, like I did Amyala? A woman like that is not meant for such a fulfillment. Beth, stay away, you will be far safer…

I fly home, back to my guilt; back with Verntro’s circulating words, back to my world, back in the black…

Chapter 9

Sitting at the table, I should eat myself. When will I put this knife down trying to put an end to this endless life? Drunk spits at my mirrors reflections. Pick up your whiskey and toast to death. Congratulations, you are now evil. You can now let your soul fall from your mouth and lock it in a jar with no air, shake it and threaten it with fire. I need a sharper knife. You have opened your armor, dumb wittingly within the moonlight, showing this world a beast, and also your love within the same mouth. Howl at the sun to make sure there is no night. Spiral your fingers around your throat like a suicide snake. Lash another wrist. What came first in my life? Time or death, time or death, can’t have one without the other. I guess they come from the same cut.

A pleasant knock comes from the door.

“Maze, are you here?” Arthur softly asks.

“Yes, for the time being, but not for long.” I chuck my words.

I put my feet on my table and take another mouthful.

“There is a young woman at the door for you. She said her name is Beth. Do you know her?” He comes in closer.

“Tell her I am not up for visitors at this time, too ill with this world to make host today.”

“You have been drinking?” He exclaims as I pour another drink and down it in one.

“Vey observant, it doesn’t stop this pain, but it makes me numb to its jab.”

He walks in closer to with a shame shot from his eyes.

“I am going to tell you this because you know I care, let it go, stop feeling sorry for yourself, it does not become you. You have had more chances than anyone to conquer what is inside. Grow up, sober up. You can tell her that you do not wish to have her in your company yourself, she will be waiting downstairs.”

Arthur storms out the room with a thud of the door. I didn’t even look at him once and I won’t be chasing his shadow, just take another drink and deal with the problem of emotions that is waiting downstairs for you.

I stand at the top of the staircase with intentions of battling love on its own battle field. But I am so drunk I have to hold on to the banister to make sure it does not look that obvious.

“Miss Beth! How is one of my most favorite persons today?” I cheerfully shout.

“I am good, all the better to see you actually, Maze.” She says with her hands cupped at her waist.

I have beaten the mountain of stairs and all I must conquer now is to keep Beth still in my sight.

“Why is it better? Has this day produced something that any other could not? Have all your hopes and dreams come to pass? Or perhaps all of your enemies have been slain and slaughtered by another’s blade.”

“No, I am just doing some shopping for the house.”

“Ah Verntro, he is such a prick, don’t you think? He just lacks that push, you know, a push-off a cliff.” I stumble to the right.

“What is the matter with you?” She asks.

“Nothing is the matter with me; it is this world full of bastards that’s the problem.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Of course I am, wouldn’t you be when you live in such a place like this one?”

“Well perhaps I can change your view of this world and carry on our conversation from the other night.”

“No need. I know. I know what has to be done.” I slur more saliva than words and rub my sleeve over my mouth.

“And that would be?”

“Terrific question, see you’re so smart, so so smart. And the answer is… I can’t see you anymore or talk. You see we are two different people living in the same world.”

Her facial expressions change so drastically from happy to what is happening?

“You mean you’re rich and I am poor and you are afraid of what people may think. I knew it was a mistake coming here.”

“No! It is nothing like that; I’m just not allowed to love you. That is all. Just scratch me from your memory, it would be safer.”

“What do you mean you are not allowed to love?” She comes in closer for a feel of my hand.

“They made me so I could not love anyone, not allowed. Eventually it’s taken from me.”

“What? Who are they, Maze? You are the richest and most powerful person to ever step foot on this world; you should not be intimidated by those who are not here now.”

I fall to my knees, this heap suits me good as I try to cry.

“You just don’t understand. You don’t, do you? Please just go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“For now I will go, and when you have lost your drunkenness I will not be far, you hear me?” She let’s go of my hand and walks to and through the door. Please come back. I didn’t tell you I need you. Even for a wee while. Save me, save me, please. Black.

(The other chapters are below:)

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Science Fiction Writing For Teens & Adults – The Experiment (Part 1: The Train-Wreck) – Written By Alexander Kennedy


This is a three part fantasy/romance story of a how a young woman after a train-wreck finds and falls in love with a young man who was an abandoned military experiment, which was left in the deep cold and cruel forests of North America. Enjoy! Please, Like, Comment, Prv/Message and Subscribe.

The Experiment (Part 1: The Train-Wreck)

My name is Jamie-Leigh; all through high school it wasn’t the name I wanted, Jamie Leigh, Jamie-Leigh, aim those legs, aim those knees at me, at me. The taunts from the boys really put me on the lunch room map, but I am still thankful for my parents to give me a name, rather names. So thus I am here, standing in line for a train ticket, to go and visit the rents. My big bag of junk by my side, the same bag that jolts into my holey jeans and cuts at my leg, I have no other bag to carry all this junk. Shades on and set to maximum darkness, like a boss, trying to keep my cool to this endless waiting, it’s probably some old dude paying a thirty dollar ticket all in pennies, awesome, I could probably set off now and be there by foot by the end of this waiting.

“Next Please.” The weirdo behind the glass flicks his fingers at me; do I look like a dog? Don’t answer that. “What would ya’ like, hun?” He sparks a smile looking for an indication of the possibility of being that guy. No chance.

“One ticket to Maine, please.” I reply shoaling my scrunched-up money forward, my shadow eyes reflect and repel his smile from me; I do still have my straight face on today. He’s not for me, too much manly men in this world, I have dated his type before; I am the one who gets bored after or during the first date, after or during sex.

I sit down in my appointed seat, hulking my bag next to me;  the window will be my travel show on television and Taylor Swift will be my close friend, who lives in my I-pod, making me feel better about all my problems, she does her job well when I feel crappy.  I love to just sit and watch people, not stalkerish, for example, like the woman shouting at her crying child, must be hard to be a mom, or the business man trying to act his way through life and finally the slutty woman trying to gain a watch to her new boobs and thin exterior, she must have recently split-up and is on the prowl, ready to pounce and rebound on some helpless sack; the business man looks like he’s not looking at her, over his paper. People are funny things.

I breathe on the window and draw a smiley face with my finger. As the train pulls out I catch a glimpse of myself, did I really come out looking like that? Yes, I am a petite woman, Yes, I have mousey-brown bedraggled hair, awesome, I bet everyone thought I looked like some tramp; no, I don’t wear a lot of make-up, but being 22 that is a good thing, right? To not be something you shouldn’t.

Taylor Swift, you legend, I loved that song. We are on our way home, but travelling through all of that laid snow should delay us. The business man and female player have finally found each other, grazing legs and eye screwing, I bet she is telling him about how no man has ever really satisfied her and all she is really looking for is someone who is there for her when she needs and he is eating it all up, thinking he could be that guy and all his words are working so well, while he is trying to hide his wedding band. Naughty – Naughty.

I look out of the window, trying to see wolves through the conifer trees as the train begins to slow. I hated this ride when I was a girl. The forest ran for so long and it was all you could see for miles, vast, that was the word my mom used when talking about the wilderness. The snow is coming down nice and heavy, Christmas has gone, get on with summer already. I look over at the two strangers, sucking the face off each other, I pretend I don’t notice but I do. It dulls me, shouldn’t I be having fun like everyone else, with someone who loves me for me, even if it makes them crazy. I prop up my face on my hands staring into the red striped fabric on the opposed seats. Taylor, please put me back in a good mood, 22, I love this song.

The train slows pace, it must have hit a snow wall or something, would have been funny to see a cow on the track. Trying to look in through the trees is hypnotic and rather tiring to the bored eye. A sigh. The forest swallows souls, so many trekkers have come to an abrupt end just walking through, but I guess at this angle everything is fine. My eyes are heavy just like the snow. Catch you all at the finish line called home. Black.

I jerk forward. Everything is okay; the metal rail on the table cushioned my blow.

“What the hell!” I shout.

Everyone on the train is looking out of the windows, as the world reels itself past us. Every person on the train looks on in horror. This is one of those moments when my stalkerish spider-sense becomes handy, to know when everyone else around you looks scared, you should be too. The train creeks like floorboards as more speed is shown; trouble must have its hoists on us all. The whole train jumps, sending everyone into the air then off their seats, the cheaters help each other up, I am in the middle aisle; people begin to scream and shout for help, pulling helplessly on the lever of pull to stop, not only is it helpless but useless in the same hand. The whole train tips like a kid has gotten fed up with his toys, a dip in my stomach. Somersaults and tipple tails, it’s all gymnastics in nasty events. Black, again.

I manage to tear open my eyes; everything is distorted for a few seconds, wiping the snow from my face with a clean hand and pulling it back into focus, redness stains my fingers.

“I think I’ve cut my head, C’mon Jaim, let’s get up.” Psyching myself up.

Still in the sitting position, I look around; my surrounds do not look normal or familiar; that scares me more. For a minute I gain bearings.

“Is anyone there?!” I shout into disaster.

I loop my hair behind my hair and slowly pull myself up. The train is resting on its side, snow chucks in from the smashed windows that are now skylights.

“Hello!” There must be someone else here, please.

I climb over debris and lost luggage. My initial plan was to head for light.

“Please help me.” I faint woman’s voice comes from over near the gash in the roof of the train; I can see light but no person.

“I’m coming, just hang on.” I manage to reach the whole hole, the slutty woman is residing on her back, probably her favourite position, her legs in the train her body in the snow. Blood turns the snow, cherry slushy.

“My name is Alice, please, please help me.” Her tears say it all, but it is the tear across her belly raises a question. Now from watching E.R. and Grey Anatomy I know to stop a bleeding wound you must apply pressure, so I cup my hands over that slice of death.

“It’s okay; it’s not as bad as I can see.” Too much blood and it looks really deep. “I don’t know what to do, Alice.” Her bottom lip quivers, I don’t know if it is because of the pain or the freeze.

“We need to get help; do you have your cell on you?” She says gasping every other word.

“It was right beside me before the crash, but now, I don’t know.” I say trying myself not to cry and shiver.

“Okay, I need you to go look through someone else’s stuff and phone for help, can you do that?” Her gasps are really becoming erratic. I nod in agreement; I have no idea what I am doing.

“I will be right back, okay, just don’t try and move or anything.” I say.

I jump over her into the snow, I can see bag planted all over the forest floor; I sprint in big step into the forest. Darkness shrouds everything, nothing grows here but bad things live here. Push it to the back of your mind, Jamie, you are stronger than this.

I race for a black suitcase the contents of which have been spread all over the floor. I route around, nothing. My head spins around frantically looking for my next purse, God, I feel like such a kleptomaniac.  A pink handbag stands out more than others, so that is my next one. I race on over and turn the whole thing upside down, notebook, tampons, pregnancy test, make-up… A phone.

“Hello, is anyone else alive?!” A man’s voice echoes from the train wreck.

I stand to see if I can see, I let my guard down. A twig snaps behind me. A groaning growl puts the fear of Hell within me. I slowly turn, tree, tree, tree, tree. A Bear stands about twenty-five yards in front of me, his eyes fixed; he roars again, I am taken aback a few steps. He comes down off his hind legs and claws at the air. I look at my clothing, blood spatters everywhere.

I don’t think, I run through that forest like someone set off the fire alarm and this was no drill. I can hear him behind me, I forget to scream; the tears pour from me like they were their last time to show face. I jump over small dying logs and brush. He is getting closer and closer, I can almost feel his breath.

I try and look behind me, as curious as I am and fall, slamming myself into dead plants and dry leafs. I quickly turn onto my back and edge backwards on my balls of my converse shoes. The bear doesn’t relent in his attempt for food.

“HELP ME!” I have finally found my voice. Is this it?

From out of nowhere a gigantic tree comes spiking through the air, ploughing itself into the side of the bear, the scribbles of the braches rest at my feet. I sit there horrified, still scared and awestricken.

Questionable, I look in the direction where the tree laid roots. A young man stands there, half naked staring at me, out of breath, he looks so dirty. I don’t even think he knows its winter as the temperature is well below minus.

“Hi, we need help just over there.” I shout on over to him. He slants his head, almost like he had no idea to what I just said. He looks up into the trees and spots a squirrel jumping from branch to branch, smiling at it.

He takes one more look at me with that smile and takes off running into the darkness and scribbles of plant life. I stand, trying to look for the mystery dude. The bear takes back my attention; I look at the dead beast, laying under that trunk. The tree looks to weigh at least a few tonnes. How was that even possible? Who was that guy?

I race back to the train-wreck, phone still in hand. This day cannot get any worse.

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So A Vampire is Born


A screenshot of the 1922 film, Nosferatu. Thou...

A screenshot of the 1922 film, Nosferatu. Though the film is in the public domain in the US, It is not in the public domain outside of US (and it’s origin). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This is a story of a wounded man being kidnapped and cursed by a mysterious woman to kill as the first Vampire. Enjoy! Like, Comment, Prv/ Message.

So A Vampire is Born

I scrambled through the twigs and dead plant life on my stomach, the war from which I fled still rages with screams and roars, each movement is pain followed by blood exhuming. The sky corresponded with the battlefield, blood-red. I am not a coward, I was merely thinking of my offspring, living without a father for a kingdoms freedom. My breathing begins to diminish. One last push, I stabilize against a God like tree and bring myself to my feet and begin to trudge. My soul starts to tear away from this gaping hole with every inhale of oxygen. I should rest, my eye’s start to whisper to me. Inhumane faces loom around my vision, showing me pasts sorrows and adult Essen crimes. My father, thou in heaven shall spear me from the murder of crows sent to deliver me. I place my disguised colour hands together for redemption.

“Please, father… Save me” A first time to talk to God.

A deadly wind swarms through the tree’s and assaults in my direction, resulting me back on my back, was this a sign or a cause? I lie there, the light begins to merge with the shadows and the clouds sail through the sky like waves. The crows begin to sing in order like an orchestra symphony and my heart is the drum. Dying in a tranquil location cannot be the worst way to pass.

A horse beckons my way; I can hear its trot and snorts. My sword, did I drop it? Was it close? I fling my arms around the forest floor in hope of grabbing it; the only thing within my grasp is a rock. I pick it up and roll onto my front; I guess I do not wish to die just yet. The horse and its rider are trembling closer.

“Get up! Get up now!”

Motivation is the key to succeed. I rise back up with the last remnants of adrenaline I have.

“I may look broken; sir, but I assure you I will not fall to your sword!”

A black clocked figure emerges on horseback, the strangers face is completely covered with shadow of a cloth, except their fearless conspiring eyes. I tilt my head to focus on the stranger but as I do, I fall, hitting my head. Black.

“You will do well” A voice screeches in the background of unconsciousness.

I wake sometime later, naked on a bed of hay, I feel paralytic with pain, my eyes search my surroundings to see if familiarity sets in. It is a small fire smoked hut, Crucifixes hang from the roof beam, strange symbols almost biblical rest as design on the walls like decoration, I close in down the room, the stranger from the woods has their back to me, mumbling to themselves, banging pots and pans together. Am I in danger?

“Get you fixed, gonna’ get you fixed to God standard, you wait and see, you wait and see” The stranger says aloud.

“Excuse me” I dryly omit

It seems the stranger is a woman, but with her size you would expect her to be male.

“Ah… you have woken to me, here, drink this” with a peculiar accent.

She shoves a dirty vile under my nose.

“What is it?” I say

“A remedy, It will keep you alive and normal, but will slow your blood flow to your wound, it tastes nice, am I right? I have sown your cut; you should be more, soon enough”

I take a mouthful of the unknown and stare at her stare, psychotic in nature with but a comfortable settling for her pupils. Friend or foe, friend or foe? Echo along my thoughts, why is she helping me? Why does my heart have a pulse? I don’t feel right, I feel odd.

“Rest my sweet, you will need you energy for tonight” She says.

I fight my eyes once again until the black overtakes my perspective.

I have intervals of waking from sleep. I am being dragged on a large piece of wood attached to horseback, only travelling at pacing speed over the forest floor; the old woman is on horseback.

“Where are you taking me?” She does not answer “Where, Damn it!!” I shout.

“Rest, rest… You will need it.” She replies.

I stare up into the trees; the nocturnal animals are at playtime with their surroundings, screeching at one another. The air is nipping at my skin trying to break my layers and a gentle mist on the wind gradually sails around the branches eerily. The horse becomes shaking up and comes to a halt, slamming its hooves into the mud as a stand not to go further.

“We’re here…” She comes out with.

I lift my head; we are at the mouth of a darkened cave. The cave must have a large stomach as hundreds of bats fly in and out through the opening.

She jumps from the horse and stands and shoots a look of peculiar hatred at me. She undoes the ropes that are attached to the horse and begins to pull me towards the caves entrance.

“Please, don’t take me in there; I will pay you in gold, whatever your plans are for me, please, do not follow through with them.” I plead to her un-listening ears.

She hums an old song to herself whilst being slumped forward pulling on the ropes that are over her shoulders. I need to move, pick up your hand and feet, I must escape.

I try to grab onto the grass strands but there is not that many to save me. As we enter the cave the humming the old woman is doing becomes a group choir as her echoes bounce from wet wall to wet wall. Painful screeches tear through my skulls as the bats wings beat over me; drips of water from the ceiling above soak me.

“Almost there deary… Almost over now, you see I knew you would be a good boy, you didn’t try to runaway once.” She says as she slumps the ropes to her side.

“Let me go.” I ask.

“I can’t do that my sweet; the wheels are in spiral now.” She says. She takes out a handkerchief and dries her brow. “Well it looks like I am done here.”

“Wait, please…”

“Cheerio sweetie but try not to wriggle too much when he starts to eat, he will only get angry with you, causing him to play with his food.”

Give me the battlefield, rather that than this. There is travelling moonlight from a hole on the caves ceiling, its ray surrounds me but as its shine keeps me company but there is a price for its company as now I cannot see what lies within the darkness. Tippling rocks and flaps of wings attack my emotions and paranoia with death slithers of shadows from out my eyes corners. No help is coming. The noise of silence peaks my upset, where have the animal dwellers and unholy sounds retreated to?

“I see you have had the pleasure of meeting my sister.” An echoed voice which comes from all around says.

“Hello, who’s there…?” A breath… A breath… “If that woman who brought me to this place was your sister, then yes I have.” I reply.

I try to look into the dark but it mirrors back only more suspicion and chaos to my soul.

“She looks after my wellbeing, I know she can be rather hands on but it’s for my greater good you see.”

“You must not have a place in her heart if she looks after your wellbeing within this cave.”

Footsteps circle me.

“It’s for my own good, I insisted upon my living quarters here.”

“Why would any man want that?”

“I’ll show you…”

The ropes take life and being to drag me into the dark oblivion. A man stands in front of me, in withered clothing along with a twitching motion to his body rhythm. His bottom lip to his pale face is covered in scabs and puncture holes and his long fingers have no nails, by the looks of things either he has been attacked by an animal or he has been gnawing at himself.

“What happened to you?” I ask as polite as I can.

“A curse, bestowed upon my families bloodline, it transforms the second child of the third generation.” He shudders in his words.

“What is the curse?”

“Nosferatu…”

I manage to lift up my torso, looking around there are animal carcasses lying around rotting.

“Witchcraft?”

“Of a sort yes but more touched by Lucifer, now I must drink the crimson tide within people, there is a certain remedy within humans that quenches my thirst. That is the reasoning behind you being here…”

My legs are still unable to work; I throw myself on to my stomach and begin crawling for my life over jagged rocks and sharpened gnawed bones.

“HELP ME!!!!!!!” I scream to the heaven that cannot hear me.

I push rocks from my path; the monster walks beside me, grabbing hold of my hair. I take hold of a rock and smash it against his skull. I fall with a thump back to the earth, dazed.

Either I am too far concussed or I can actually hear voices from the cave’s mouth. Move… I have to get out from this place. I look behind me; the beast is getting up from his assault, without effort he raises to his feet as if something was helping him. He turns his head; his ears become elongated and pointed to the tip, his two front teeth are sharp. He lunges through the air with his arms out in front of him. He lands on top of me and sinks his nibblers into my neck; I can feel the blood roll down my back and the tears down my face. He grunts with every mouthful he takes of me.

“LOOK OVER THERE… MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING?!!!!” A voice trembles the cave walls.

Four soldiers rest in my sight, all in awed by the sight they are seeing. The beast lifts his head from my neck and hisses at my kinsman. They run at the beast with their bayonets and begin rapidly slicing at him, the monster once of a man, squeals and yelps at the pain he’s given. One of the soldiers rests beside me on one knee, looking into my eyes.

“How are you feeling son?” He says to me. I cannot answer, my bottom jaw quivers with pain and shock.

“What kind of man would eat another man?” Another soldier says.

A bird singing, that’s the first thing I hear. My eyes open to my homes bedroom. My wife Enelda sits beside me asleep. The drapes have been pulled over the window.

“Enelda, are you awake?”

She is the most beautiful of god creatures, having perfect skin and darker than shadowed hair. Her eyes flicker before slowly opening to my words with a smile.

“You have finally awoken to me, at last. The children will be pleased to know you are in good health again.” She says with the voice of an angel.

“How long have I been asleep for?” I ask.

“Twelve and three-quarter days… It is almost night-time again. The soldiers brought you home after they found you in the cave; they told me about the man who was trying to eat you. They saved your life. And when you came back I prayed so much for your return.” She kissed my hand. “I shall make you some food.”

“Thank you my love.”

Enelda exits the room, still smiling. The room is small, one window to the left of me, a cabinet beside the bed with a candle and bible on it. This oddly placed energy within me gives new hope to my future as I try to picture it. Enelda pushes the door too with her footing; she has in her hands a board with a bowl of soup and a slice of bread on in.

I sit up; she places it on my lap.

“Eat this; get your strength back up.” She says to me.

“I will but I do not feel hungry…” I reply.

I rip apart the bread, dunk it into the vegetable soup and take a mouthful of it. I chew slowly; the taste is rather off-putting to me like I was eating burnt meat. I spit it back out.

“Has this been cooked long?” I ask.

“No – I just made it for you, why is there something the matter with it?”

“It just has an irregular taste to it, that all, it may be me.”

She puts her hand to my forehead.

“Are you feeling well? You do seem quite cold with certain clamminess to you.”

“I feel fine my love. Where are the children?”

“They are asleep in their beds; I did not want to wake them.”

“Sleep, I do myself feel rather eye heavy, I will try to eat something in the morning.”

Enelda climbs in beside me, blowing out the candle. We curl into one another. I watch her as her eyes gradually lose focus and close then I close mine. Get you fix to God standard… It was bestowed within my families’ bloodline. Words and unwanted scenes from days past attack at me. I can feel the sleep take hold of me and suck me into my worst nightmare if it wanted me too. Screams and scents I have never witnessed in my solitude only on the battlefield are heard within my dream.

I wake to the uncomforting restlessness of my eyes, sleep has no effect. Minutes have passed when in fact hours have occurred and gone. Enelda has her back to as my eyes open. The shivers have settled in to my bones. I shake her, no change.

“Enelda… My love.” I quietly say.

I stretch my sight over her to see her face. Blood, it is everywhere, coming from her neck. I shave the covers from the bed which has transformed to red. I shake her harder.

“Please wake up!” I shout at her. Nothing. The Children, I throw myself off the bed towards the doorway and exit the room in a rush. Knocking down pictures that bless our walls, I bash through the door to my children’s slumber room. Again blood all from their necks, more than my stomach can hold on to. I distort my view with my hands and stumble to the hallway window, throwing them open.

“HELP ME!!!!!” I scream to the forest.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection within the window pane; half of my face is covered in blood. Did I do this to my love – my children? I crouch holding my stomach; I should have taken the brave way out and stayed to fight within that battle.

“What have you done?” I say to myself.

I look up and see a lantern outside of my children’s bedroom, there to keep at bay the monsters and demons. I grab it and throw it into my offspring’s resting place, the room becomes ablaze in seconds. I walk into my marital chambers, bawling the hate for myself from my eyes. I stop and stare at what I once had. I rip a lantern from the wall and crawl onto my bed, taking hold of a match, striking and lighting the lantern. I throw it at the wall opposite the bed, it explodes and fire rips over the wall. I curl back into my love holding her within my arms.

“Forgive me…”

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