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Timeless Winter

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Author Topic: Timeless Winter  (Read 255 times)
Willard, Lord of The Shrubs
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Oh yes.


« on: 12 July, 2009, 02:22:10 pm »

This is the pilot for a book I am writing, and hope to one day get published, just for the lulz. I am looking for some feedback on my writing, but generic comments are still welcome, and I'll try to answer as many questions as I can without giving away too many major plot points.

Oh, the reason this was put into 'User Based Stories' was because the main characters name is Willard, and it involves characters based on GoldenSaver, Unreal and his younger brother.

---

I awoke that night in the same damn smelly room. He was there of course, taking His time waking me up by flicking my nose with the end of His unnaturally long finger. Shaking my head with irritation, I noticed that virtually nothing had changed in my short absence of about four weeks. The empty canisters which once contained raw meat were now empty, save for a few small scraps that rats were feeding on. Feeling nauseous, I looked to the right of me, where He had just walked over to the mantle of a magnificent hearth and put something in His pocket. That was the one appealing feature of the room; a gigantic granite fireplace containing several blazing logs crackled intermediately, giving that end of the room the misleading impression of a cozy atmosphere. Not wishing to meet His steady gaze, I looked away, to the other end of the long room. Being bound in the corner, however, I could not turn my head all the way around to avoid His unnaturally intense stare.

He spoke to me.

‘Wiiilllaaarrrddd… I hear you were rather hesitant in last nights killing. Have you really decided to show some remorse? I’m quite disappointed; I thought you had more initiative in you than that.’

He slowly rose from His chair and softly couched down a few feet from me. Beginning to feel panic at having Him so close to me, I looked directly into His eyes and experienced a shiver of horror as I noticed that they looked strikingly familiar. For the first time, He had taken off His mask, and I could only relate to the sight as looking into a mirror. My apparent look of fear, however, was changed into a smile of polite interest by Him.

He slowly bent forwards and whispered in my ear, His long hair tickling my neck, ‘I do believe we had a deal… such a shame that after all you’ve done for me, I have to remind you of your place.’

Standing up with a twisted, satisfied smile on His gaunt face, He turned away from me and slouched back to His chair. He was not wearing anything extravagant; He had no shoes or socks to cover His pale feet, but He did have baggy faded black jeans which were torn and frayed around the ankles, and an even baggier plain black hooded sweater. Barely more interesting than His clothing were our surroundings.

The ceiling was so high up that I could not distinguish by the fires soft light where the wall met it, but the walls themselves were plain and dusty, looking to be discordantly rust-colored with the remnants of black paint peeling away from it. It had an aged look that held a kind of foreboding feeling around it. The way that the light from the flames played across the rough surface of the rusted wall sections, and the smooth finish of the black paint left an impression that was so surrealistic, it almost made me feel dizzy.

Nothing adorned the walls, but looking at the floor I noticed that runes were inscribed on each of the ceramic tiles, each of which was big enough for four average-sized people to stand on comfortably. Knowing Him, this room was home to a number of dark and lethal secrets.

Sitting back in the chair, He raised His hand briefly, and then snapped His fingers. At once, several dozen rats stormed into the room from my left, where a door must have been, obviously intent at reaching me. Once they had, they stopped rather suddenly in front of me, piling in top of each other, but never going over some invisible point on the floor in front of me. As they squealed in anticipation and delight, I could not suppress a shudder which earned an amused chuckle from Him.

Looking around in desperation, I sought vainly for a way out of my situation, but found none. He had me tied to one of several chill pipes in the corner of the room, binding me across my chest and arms but had also bound my feet with chains so that almost no movement was possible. It was then that I noticed for the first time after my many visits that there were no windows.

The scampering of the rats became more insistent, I could see their claws scratching away at the ceramic tile floor, piling up on top of each other, each wanting to be the first to bite into my flesh…

‘Oh Willard… don’t you get it? No use to try to escape, none at all… there are so  many hours till you get to leave… and no one around to hear you scream…’
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Cavernous Sack Glutton
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First rate retard, the one and only Goldensaver


« Reply #1 on: 12 July, 2009, 03:44:34 pm »

GWWAHH!!! ITS BEAUTIFUL!!!!! IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP!!! Shocked Cry
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Also a happy glutton of Nutjaculation
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« Reply #2 on: 30 July, 2009, 03:22:50 pm »

baump
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