|04-29-2005, 11:14 PM||#1|
Join Date: Apr 2004
He ran, looking back twice, with a book clutched close to his left arm. It was a musty, old, old tomb, with the scent of undeath eerily creeping on the walls. It was unnaturally cold, as if something was chilling the air, perhaps breathing through the endless hallways. Skulls tied on strings were all over the walls. A few of the skulls looked as if they were killed in the past year, the others, however, were thousands upon thousands of years old. But what was most horrifyingly interesting about this picture had to be the book. On the cover was a plate, which was constantly changing colors, swirling around and sliding into new pigments over and over. It made slight moaning sounds, as if containing the souls of whoever the skulls once belonged to. The young man carrying the book wore a red bandana over his mouth, and was quite quick. Perhaps a tomb-robber making his escape. But he, of course, wasn't the only thing inside this tomb. His steps, although making near no sound, echoed throughout the empty halls. Suddenly, the plate atop the book turned blood red, and made a noise of pure evil. The skulls began to fall at the end of the hallway, but at the beginning stood a figure.
It spoke in vile, forgotten tongues, which the young man seemed to understand. He jumped a small bit, trying to contain his fear, but the creature's long, black tongue quickly resumed quivering as he spoke the dark words. The book turned many strange colors and the creature laughed. Apparently, though as strange as this may sound, the book knew the creature. The colors, were perhaps emotions, or some sort of forgotten speech. But the boy didn't know this. The creature suddenly ran at the boy, and ice grew up around the boy's feet. The boy struggled, but couldn't move.
"If I wanted you to have that book, would this temple be underneath a mountain? Wouldn't it be in a city, sorrounded by worshipers and monks? Give me the Grimoire, Jestere."
The boy remained speechless, and drew his hand from a thick, black pocket in his running robe. A spray of flames came out and caused the creature to jerk back suddenly, and his foot wriggled free. He ran, in a clear panic, towards another hallway. But the door shut.
Suddenly, the room began to spin. Not in reality, I'm sure, perhaps it was the boy's dizzyness, or sanity slipping. But what was most strange was the room dissapearing. Was this reality? He was now in a plane of black. Pure darkness, although it was quite a possibility to have seen this, his mouth dropped. He screamed, and fell. Suddenly, there was something next to him. He turned, and it was a dog. A skeletal dog. With two heads. It had a gleaming black coat, and blood poured from its eyes. He dropped the book, and the room returned to normal, and the darkness was gone. He was at the enterance, in fact. But he didn't have the book.
"Slaads and their trickery..."
He walked off in the distant desert. Behind him, was the enterance; a series of runes and a cave with stairs. Blood was splattered upon the sides. He wouldn't return. But the creature would.
It was an average day in the life of young protaganist Erik. He lived alone, despite the fact that he was 26, lively, and had a career. He wasn't particularly social, because he spent a lot of time at his house for a kid his age, but now was not one of those times. Right then, he was at a resturant with a beautiful girl he had met the day before. He told himself over and over, don't mess this one up, E! This is a great one. And, then, things were working out pretty well.
"Hey there, fellas! What can I get ya for?"
He was at the local diner, which wasn't much of a date-place, but he already knew everyone there and could care less about where he went. Luckily, so did his date.
"Hey, Steven. I'll take the usual."
"And one can I get for this lovely young lady?"
"I'll take this Salisbury Steak with a sidedish of the 'Deli Macaroni'."
Her voice was very beautiful, but something else caught his eye. A man, hooded, wearing a thick black cape was glaring at him. He had bright, red eyes, near mystical runes on his cloak, and a large, straw hat on. He was glaring at him with a angled, angry eye, and his eyebrows were thick. His glare was piercing, and Erik's head began to hurt. He reached up and grabbed his temple. When he looked back, the man was gone.
"What's wrong?" She replied to his gesture.
"Oh nothing, nothing, I've just had a rough day, that's all."
He went on to give the usual, 'I love how we're connecting like this, it feels really good!' speech, but was thinking about the strange man. How did he dissapear so quickly? And why didn't anyone else notice him? Why was he dressed so strangely, and why did they let a crazy like that get into the resturant? He tried to push it out of his mind. He didn't want to upset his date or anything.
"Really? I feel that way too! Wow, I really think this is working out. You're a real nice guy, Erik." Forget everything you've been thinking, this date just got a whole lot better.
"And you're a really beautiful girl, Eris."
She smiled and blushed, as this was the reaction he was hoping for. When he went home, however, the real suprises came.
He walked into the door. Literally. His head had still been throbbing from his encounter with the shadowy figure. But what he saw next made his head hurt even more.
Runes, painted in the darkest red he'd ever seen, were all over his house. In the bathroom, on the ceiling, on the walls, everywhere. He opened his closet. Skulls, hung on strings, were hanging from the doorway.
He backed himself into a corner, and then broke down. He checked his alarm system. ARMED. He checked the windows. None were open or broken. He checked the door. It was locked. Whatever was in the house was still somewhere inside.
He crawled into the closet and found the source of where whatever or whoever had come in: a massive, gaping hole in the ground. The red paint sorrounded the hole's edges, and it led into the place he least wanted to go then. The basement.
His basement was shaped crooked, because it was built into the side of a mountain, much like the whole town. His eyes widened and he jerked backwards from what he saw next.
Another hole, but this one twice as wide as the last one, was in his basement floor, giving way to cave with runes on the sides. The cave had a clear aura of evil radiating from it. He jumped down, and was about to enter when he turned around, and so the hooded figure again. It was glaring at him with its big red eyes. On its side was a large, anchor-like medieval-looking weapon. He touched it gingerly. And walked towards Erik. Erik stood there, stunned by its presence, and formed a pair of fists. He leaned back, looking as if he knew karate of some sort, but the figure pushed him out of the way and walked into the cave.
Erik reeled from the blow, and slammed into the wall. The wall was damaged by the force, and some of the paint chipped, revealing a slight glow. Erik, now free of the figure's presence, looked closely at the wall, and hit it again. More light began to show. He hit it again, and put a hole in the wall. A book fell from the hole, with a glowing plate on it. When he touched it, the front turned red, black, blue, green, and then formed the words 'The Grimoire'. Erik's eyes lit up...
END CHAPTER ONE.
He pad-locked the basement and pad-locked the closet with the hole to the basement. This wouldn't hold them, he pondered, based on the push he recieved from the dark figure the night before, but it'd at least let them know that they were not wanted. It was very late, and he had a monstrous headache and was very tired from his strange day. He locked every door in his house, and proceeded to look for a hotel to sleep in. Anything was better then that house.
He drove for 5 miles before reaching a good hotel, The Martini. It had a classy name, but it sure wasn't classy. But they knew him there, as they have for years. He slept in his regular room, number 13, but that disturbed him even more.
"I think I'll take room number 7 tonight, Al."
"Going for a luckier number, eh? I'll bring ya right to it, wait a second."
Erik carried a small commerical-looking duffle-bag. He held it very tightly, and kept looking at it. On it's zippers were two locks of high caliber, as if he had thousands of dollars in the bag. But inside, truly, was a dark, dark secret he had been keeping. It was a book. The Grimoire, so it said on the front in a very odd language. He didn't understand the language, but he knew thats what they said, because the shining metal plate formed these words when he first came in contact with the book. For some reason, the book interested him, and he was strangely drawn to it, even though he could not understand any of it.
When he came to his room, he closed and locked it with the two locks that were on his bag. He drew the book, and mentally took note of everything about it, in an unnatural curiosity. It was thick as a dictionary, but was filled with strange dark red runes on every page. However, the runes were small and gave the impression of primitive letters. The book had a leather body with papyrus pages; it was gilded, too, and had haunting designs burned into the front cover and back cover leather. He quickly snatched it up from the bed, and hid it beneath his bed, inside the duffle-bag. He rested his head on the pillow, and fell asleep near-instantly.
He knew it was a dream, but he couldn't wake up. He saw horrible things. Demons slaughtering humans, the dead rising and annilihating entire villages, days where sunlight was blocked by raincloud, raining blood upon an ancient, latin-american mayan-like city, ritual sacrafices being performed by undead farmers, war, disease, corruption, but what he saw next had to be the most horrifying.
The shadowy figure from the resturant was in one of his visions; perhaps the worst of all. Demonic, undead dragons of chinese folklore raining fire upon villages, while a great dragon, bobbing its head through the air like a snake through water, had the figure standing atop its head. He was instantly awoken, to find another horror.
The window was broken, and a bloated skull was sitting in the middle of his room, pointed towards him. He jumped towards the back of the room. The book, from within the duffle-bag, began to make a strange, moaning noise, and a blood red color from within the bag flew around frantically. He opened the bag, and a blood-red color flew past him. It was a small wisp of air, and it flew towards the skull. The skulls suddenly burned red, and bones began to grow out from where the neck should be connected to the head. Suddenly, the skull had become a skeleton. It got up, to Erik's horror, and stared at him with huge, red eyes. It's hand motioned the form of a spear, and a pointed, runed, wooden staff grew in his hand from nothing. He formed a slight skeletal smile and began inspecting Erik. He looked over his body, and smiled again, as if sensing no threat.
Erik cowered in fear from the suprise of a skeleton randomly attacking him. It tried to thrust its spear into Erik's heart, but somehow, through a stroke of adrenaline, Erik dodged. However, the skeleton didn't stop there. It thrust again, this time, landing with deadly accuracy, into Erik's heart. It smiled it's skeletal smile, and then frowned suddenly. As it drew the spear from his heart, Erik's blood was unnaturally black. Erik also continued to live. Erik, horrified by the sight of this strange blood, began stammering senseless words in fear,
Suddenly, the door burst open, and the shadowy figure burst in. It drew it's stange medieval weapon, and prepared to fire it. It spoke to the monster in a strange language, perhaps the runic language, and the creature turned and hissed. It tried to now plunge the spear into the figure's heart. But it failed, as the dark figure was quick and maybe trained in martial arts. However, it was able to land a small cut through the figure's arm. It bled black. The skeleton jumped back, much like Erik did when he saw the skull.
The figure hoisted the weapon to about waste-level, and hurled the head of the weapon at the skeleton, holding the chain attached to the anchor-weapon in his right hand. It smashed through the wall, and took the skeleton's head with it. It's body of bones fell limp upon the ground. The red cloud, possibly a spirit, flew back into the book. Erik suddenly realized what the colors on the book were, and passed out.
He awoke in his own house. He looked to the left side of his room for the hole in the closet, and found there was none. It had been sealed up? Or was this whole event a dream? But when he looked towards the other side, he saw the shadowy figure, sitting in a chair, waiting patiently. It spoke to reveal an unearthly, black tongue.
END CHAPTER 2.
"You have had quite a night, havent you?"
The creature spoke in a young and humanely tone, despite its horrid features. It was almost normal, except it hissed on certain tones. Erik was perhaps perturbed by his presense, but trusted the figure in an odd sort of way. As though the creature was giving an aura of security, he reached out towards Erik, mentally, reached for his soul. Erik loosened himself, and much tension left him.
"Why... why did you save me, before?" Erik said slowly with fearing eyes.
"Because you are The Holder of the Book. The book has temporarily chosen to stay with you. Do you know what that book is?"
"I think I know. I read, somehow, the runes on the side of the book. It says the Grimoire of Souls. I figured the colors represent souls."
"They represent? They are much more then souls, my son. Do you want to know what happens when you die?"
Erik's eyes lit up inquisitively. "No. Yes."
The creature opened up the book and runes appeared. Strange runes. But this time the meaning of the runes did not immediatley come to Erik. He couldn't understand them.
"I don't understand."
The creature slammed the book shut with one hand, and smiled. It had no teeth, and its decaying flesh was quite a sight.
"That's because you aren't quite as powerful as you, and I, both think."
"I don't think I'm powerful at all."
"Then why did you just answer me back?" The creature had a point. Erik peered at the weapon.
"What's your name?"
"My name is Jestere." The creature bowed, and immediatley replied to his own statement.
"And your name is Teashare. At least, I think that's who you are. No, no, I forgot to tell you a short tale of this book.
Long ago, a great king hid his treasure deep inside a mountain with a Slaad in it. The slaad, part magician, part dragonman, who was sworn to the king's treasure forever. The king owned a book of great value, to all in the living realm and all the dead realm. Whoever owned the book could do amazing things with it. Observe;"
The king grasped the book with two hands and opened it. He faced it open towards Erik, and Erik placed his hand on the pages out of curiosity. The book turned blood red, and a soul jumped out and danced around his fingers. He instinctively knew what to do with it. He pointed his fingers at his stress ball laying on the floor. Suddenly, the ball began to roll around, spinning and twirling.
"You... you truly are Teashare, my friend."
"Who is Teashare, exactly?"
"Why, teashare is the one prophisized to retake the book and use it to acquire the treasuer of the king."
"I don't want the treasure."
Suddenly, Jestere reached into the book and drew a blue soul. The soul flew into the basement and didn't return. Jestere waited a few minutes in silence, and then spoke in gutteral language. Another soul flew out and in the soul, an image of limitless treasure appeared.
"Now you see? There are objects we may need there, too, as there is an ultimate goal."
"An ultimate goal?" Erik responded, questioningly.
"I spend my life seeking ways to seperate the realms of hell and the living world. My family was slain by demons, and now I seek to stop them from entering this world. I am relatively young for a demon myself."
"You became a demon after dying?" Erik spoke quietly and seriously.
"Yes, many do. Especially those who die young."
"What if I refuse to get involved in this master plan of yours? Because I never asked for any of this."
"Well, then you wouldn't be Teashare. But you know what I would do then?"
Erik gulped. It was a stupid question, and Erik knew it.
"There is one thing we must do, first, of course. I will bring you to the Deadverse and train you myself. Because you will be the one robbing the tomb."
END CHAPTER 3
Last edited by stoner-peon69 : 06-18-2005 at 10:38 PM.
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|04-30-2005, 02:15 AM||#3|
Taur is... MY SISTER!!!
Character Development: 4/10, Humor 2/5, Writing Skill 8/10, Effort 11/15, Grammar 9/10, Flow 7/10, Idea 14/15, Format 4/5 Tilt 8/10. 67/90.__________________
Main docking for character development because there wasn't much. And effort, mainly because its a little short and lacking some things... (Like character development. :P)
Oh well. I'll be waiting for the next part :)
|04-30-2005, 03:56 PM||#5|
Taur is... MY SISTER!!!
Hmm... interesting. With this new chapter...__________________
Character Development: 7/10, Humor 2/5, Writing Skill 8/10, Effort 13/15, Grammar 9/10, Flow 6/10, Idea 14/15, Format 4/5 Tilt 8/10. 71/90.
Character Development has improved, but flow has gone done since a) it seems to fast paced and b) I need to reread it a little to properly understand everything thats going on. Good stuff, keep writing. :)
|06-13-2005, 05:30 AM||#9|
That's actually really good. I hate endings that are typically a dream, then ends you off with no clue what the hell is going on. 8.34537732/10 :god_help_us:__________________
|07-07-2005, 03:52 PM||#13|
Taur is... MY SISTER!!!
I had to read a bit back because I forgot about what was going on.__________________
I give you a 7/10. I like it, but your introducing characters and items way too fast. It should be a much slower progression then this - it's almost as if we've reached the climax and you're only 3 chapters in. Maybe it's just me, but when you're going to tell a longer fantasy story like this, you have to take your time.
Other then that though, the ideas are good and original. Keep writing, I'll be waiting :D
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