Sniperwhere's Short Story Hour!

[Sniperwhere]

I've been writing this for a while now. Haven't had a a lot of time to work on it so I haven't gotten very far into it yet.

April 21st. That was when we were sent out here. Never told why. We were just handed a gun, told to suit up, and if we saw anything... unusual, shoot to kill and don't hesitate. When you get told something like that, you already know the trip's gonna suck. because the last time they said that, we lost 17 men. I really wish they would actually brief us on these before we get there. Maybe more would live.

The trip took 3 days. A plane ride, then a boat ride, and a day and a half of driving. The place we were sent to was a forest out in the dead reaches of nowhere. Didn't even have an official name. We just gave it the highly fitting name of Dreadwood. Because nothing good ever came from that place. Nothing but wicked sounds and horror stories. The forest didn't even look natural. No transition. Just a wall of trees making an abrupt stop by an empty field.

We were apparently being sent their to look for a missing recon unit, we later found out. Make sense? Didn't to me at the time either. Why send anyone here? What did they expect to find? You would think a place like this wouldn't have anything important to an organization like us. We're supposed to be fighting off the worlds assorted rebels who think they're getting justice through local terrorism, not investigating local folk lore.

After setting up camp outside the forest, we were called together to discuss the mission. A mid-mission debriefing courtesy of the idiots back at HQ. Anyways, our recon unit, Epsilon, was sent in 2 weeks ago. 5 days after, all contact with them had seized. HUD cameras weren't working, satellite tracking went offline, and the life-support scanners came back blank. Almost like they disappeared from existence. Our job was to locate them and "Extract" any survivors, and eliminate whatever might be in there.

The next day was the day we were sent in. 3 tanks, 50 infantry units(split into 5 squads of 10), and a vehicle to clear a path through the trees.(Tree Eater for short.) We didn't know exactly where they entered, but we had a location on where they made their last transmission. That's where we were headed, and we were gonna cut straight through to it, cutting a 4 day trip into a 2 day one.

The trip was relatively uneventful. But even though nothing happened, it was not a trip I hoped to repeat again. Aside from the light that entered from the path created by the Tree Eater, the surroundings were dark. Between the gnarled trees around us, weird noises could be heard. A ticking sound that closely resembled a variety of different pens being clicked in succession. Every so often, I would see fast movement in between the branches and bushes. Quick, dark blurs that were to concealed to identify. Although, I coulda sworn I saw what looked like a large, hairless wolf moving at one point. I couldn't really tell at the time.

About halfway through the second day, we made a discovery. But a far from happy one. The forest had begun to thin out to the point where we could move our vehicles through without the need for the Tree Eater. Strange, that there had been absolutely no change in the amount of light. But nothing here was normal considering how it began to thin out towards the center instead of thickening. Anyways, about that time, we came across a scout buggy. It had been torn in half, and the cockpit had blood everywhere. And then, there was the driver. Impaled on a nearby branch. He had no skin left on his body save for a few pieces of bloody flesh hanging in strips from his body.

Something obviously happened here. Aside from the driver, there were other bodies scattered nearby. All of them were in the same mutilated condition as the driver. A few trees had gashes in the bark that could not have been made by bullets, even though shells were everywhere. This all continued down aways to the left. We had found Epsilon.

Immediately we were ordered to our squads. Bravo, the squad I was with, and Joel were ordered to scout to the left to see if there were survivors at where ever the trail led, while the others checked the immediate area. If I had a bad feeling before, I was wreathing in discomfort now. Signs of battle were everywhere, yet the only bodies were ours. Until, however, we reached the end, where we stood looking down upon the most horrifying sight I think I've ever seen.

It was the hairless wolf. No, not a wolf. Not even close. It was reptilian. Like a small wingless dragon. It's hands had claws about 8 inches long, and an inch wide. It's teeth, if they still even qualified as teeth, could have passed for railroad spikes. It's back was lined with three rows of spines all the way down to the tail; and it was bleeding a black ooze out of hundreds of holes. 5 feet away from the body was a soldier, still alive, but gripping madly at his gun, shaking violently, and muttering in tongues. Scared into full insanity.

Me and a few others tried to comfort him and bring him to his senses, but had no success. We radioed back to camp that we were heading back and for a medic to pick up the soldier. When we got back, all the other teams had already returned. Gamma and Yankee hadn't found anything but more gore and violence. Delta, however, had recovered 2 things: A HUD camera that hadn't been crushed in the fighting, (surprising, given the sad reliability of the things) and an automated recording of all transitions between soldiers(though, the length span is only an hour for memory storage purposes.) Both where handed over to the tech crew. The one soldier we found was immediately taken to MASH. The creature, though, wasn't brought back for examination. It was incinerated on the spot. As if leaving it to rot will do anything other than stink up the place.

Anyways, we were all put on standby until further notice. They said we could do whatever as long as we stayed alert and in camp. Funny; "relax" was one of the words they used. As if anyone of us could possibly relax. We were 2 days into the worst place imaginable, where a squad of 25 were slaughtered, and creatures that didn't look natural thrived. Yet, they use "relax". Well, no one relaxed. No one even bothered to hide their fright and discomfort. Everyone just kept watching all around. Scared that if they looked away, they'd suffer the same fate as Epsilon. I kept flashing back to earlier. The torn open vehicle, the skinless driver, the dead soldiers, the living soldier scared to bloody death, and that... thing. It wouldn't leave my mind. It tortured me all hours of the day. Because of it, I couldn't sleep, and had no appetite. The food, our standard what-cha-ma-call-it, tasted like ash, and the drink seemed to resemble gasoline. Every time I tried to sleep, I'd wake up a few minutes later drenched in sweat. The dreams were always about what I saw.

This continued the next day as well, until we got notification back from the tech crew that they had finished getting the camera and audio logs working again. First, they played the audio logs for us. It was filled with random radio chatter and standard protocol mumbo-jumbo. Nothing to much out of the ordinary until about 10 minutes into it. A few reports came through about investigating a strange noise. If I remember correctly, the report from around that time is as follows:

To be continued...



So, um... yeah. Enjoy. Will update when I have time.

[SlappyMcGee]

Dude, you should make this like Safe. Where we choose what happens next? That'd be cool.

Way better writing style than anyone else on these forums! :D

[Sniperwhere]

Dude, you should make this like Safe. Where we choose what happens next? That'd be cool.

How'd that work? like, someone else writes a part for it, or they tell me how that section will turn out and I write a the part the will result in that?

Way better writing style than anyone else on these forums! :D

Thanks. :)

This is like the only style I'm particularly good at. Dark and written in first person perspective.

I was, however, thinking about having this transition into an actual story(you know, dialogue and such.)

[Sniperwhere]

I found this document on my computer. I have no idea who actually wrote it, but given that nothing showed up when googling key lines in the story, I'm suspecting that my brother may have wrote it.



Here it is:

The night gleams with streaks of orange, red, white, and all the other colors of a busy night in the city. I walk though the streets, passing people of all sorts. They walk in pairs, groups, as families, or alone; like me. To the naked eye, they seem as I do. But in the heart and soul they are sophisticated, busy, happy, driven…They walk with purpose, determination, for the sake of exercise. I walk to get away. To get away from
life. From its pain. From its complications. From its depression. I walk not for pleasure. Only because it is a last resort. Hopes that I may stumble upon a happy ending stur through my mind. A happy ending in the barrel of a gun. A happy ending under the wheel of a speeding car. A happy ending that will take me to a happier place.

I turn into a dark ally way. Cold…wet…silent… The surrounding buildings appear abandoned. Graffiti reigns what little I can see of the walls.

There is a homeless man sitting under an orange flickering light. He is rapped in old dirty rags of all colors yet all amounting to grey muck. He looks up at me with a crooked smile and lifts a trembling hand holding a tin can. Recognizing his gesture, I spare him a dollar and walk on. At least he is still trying. I fell into a void, losing the light in the tunnel long ago, yet it doesn't bother me anymore.

Further into the ally way, there is an open door. There is a dim flickering light emitting from inside. It buzzes on and off under the weak power surges. As I near
it, the buzz seems louder as if it is rushing toward me. I enter the room with
curiosity and interest, a feeling long crept away from me. The uneven flashes lumenate the room. With each surge of light, I observe the room. The room is empty, except for a tall man in the corner. He stands at a chalkboard. I walk toward him slowly as not to disturb him. As I near him, I study the chalkboard filled with scribbled notes. I stand in silence yet he knows I am here. The sound of his chalk scribbling becomes increasingly louder as if he is agitated. But he is calm.

The notes on the board are illegible but I struggle to read them anyways. After a few minutes, I begin to feel slightly anxious. My heartbeat quickens and I begin to sweat. While I can't understand any of the writings, a feeling of emptiness sweaps over me. The void I've felt for so long is shallow compared to the one I feel surrounding me now.

After what seems to be hours of writing and writing over, the man pauses. It startles me. Not once before had he lifted his chalk more than 3 inches away from the board unless it was to take a new piece. He inspectes his work. A smile comes over his face. Not a smile of joy or glee. A grim, smile, almost disturbing. He steps back and turned around with chalk still in hand. He looks at me as if he had been expecting me. A moment later he reachs out his hand. I approach him and put my palm in his. We walk through a door across the room which I had failed to notice before. Inside the room, there is a constant flow of a dim orangy light. The room is filthy. Stained walls from top to bottom, side to side. In the center of the room are two chairs with nooses hanging above from old rusty pipes along the ceiling. Suddenly, the writings made sense.

Saying nothing, we both get up on the chairs in position. I feel no happiness, yet, no sadness. I feel numb all over.

As I grab the noose, a strange feeling sweeps over me. Starting in my back, then crawls up my spin into my head.. Tears begin to run down my face. My arms and legs weaken and I fall to the floor. Emotions long forgotten sweep over me.

I look up at the man. He takes no notice of my actions. He stares at the noose as it will be his savior soon to come. I try to stand yet my legs give way as if they are made of jelly.

The tears begin to flow more now. After a minute or so, I gain the strength to get up. I begin to run. Exiting the room, I can see the doorway out of the building. It seems so much further than before. My energy is low but I push myself forward with determination I've not felt for what feels like decades. After what seems like eternity, I reach the doorway. Using all my energy, I run though it, only to fall to the ground once again. I don't try to get up this time.

Thoughts race through my mind. I am free. I am alive. More so than ever before. I think back at the mysterious man at the chalkboard, his sinister smile, his writings, the nooses. It was a test. Call it an intervention, if you will. It made me realize that I deserve more than a permanent solution to a temporary problem…

[Tunco]

This is incredible,takes you away.Put it in a file attachment because I'm going to copy this to my computer.

[Sniperwhere]

That was my reaction exactly.

[Sniperwhere]

I got a lot of stories here. This was actually written for English class.

It's based off the game Penumbra. It's my own personal story as to what happened in the place.

Enjoy:

If you are reading this letter, then that could mean 2 things. Either they found a way to counter the Tuurngait... or you're in the same sorry situation that I was at the time of writing. My name s Jefferson Garrings. I am, or was, a scientist at this facility. Originally we were looking into recent discoveries of strange animals and seemingly hostile plant life. We discovered many great things in our research, but it all came with a price.

After extensive research into these bizarre abnormalities, we became curious as to what caused it. A mining operation was set up to look for any signs that may have become buried over time. A few month's after the initial execution of the dig, a few miners had reported a find. A sort of cavern, complete with stone architecture, was uncovered. At first, we all thought it was a tomb or ancient mausoleum, but that didn't last long. Shortly after uncovering it, it was sealed off completely for reasons not explained to us. Rumors were saying that all the minors that uncovered it, and everyone on the team that had investigated it had been acting strange and exhibiting a range of symptoms that do not add up to any known sickness today. Deja vu, mental incapacity, hallucinations, and paranoia are said to be a few of the symptoms. Little did we know at the time, this was the start of all this horror.

Everyone mentioned had been put in quarantine. hey were watched closely, studied, and put through a series of tests. Then, it would seem, they all died. Before their death, however, each and everyone of them had experienced hallucinations in which they under went a series of trials, only to be swallowed by a huge worm.

A week after this incident, a new safety protocol was initiated. Each employee was issued a small cyanide pill and was debriefed on what to do if any of us were to experience light headedness and/or mental incapacitation. It would seem that the cave or whatever it really was, was not a mausoleum. Looking back on it, all I could think is that it was a prison. A holding cell for that damned parasite.

Well, for about almost another month, everything went fine. An incident here or there, and only once had there been someone to ingest the cyanide pill. There was one guy who did in fact make it through the hallucination. Unlike the others, he survived. But, he had changed somehow. Different in many ways. I know this because we were good friends. He would get moments of dizziness where he couldn't walk, or even register what people were saying. He would scream at voices that weren't there. And at times, he would panic as if he was being attacked by something that didn't exist. After one of his apparent hallucinations, he was found in a corner, with his knee's tucked up to his chin, rocking back and forth saying, "Red. Red. It's all red. Everything is red. Red. RED!"

Whatever happened to him, one thing was clear: You're better off dead than surviving the hallucination riddle.

Well, that's not true. Dying in it changes you as well. In ways to horrible to describe. Not that I want to.

Anyways, a report had come in that there was a disaster in one of the tunnels. A crazed minor had collapsed a bunch of tunnels with high amounts of explosives. He then ran off and hadn't been seen after. he was saying, "Red. Red. Red."

Soon after, more and more tunnels had collapsed. And each of them due to crazed minors. All of them survivors of the hallucination. At the same time all of this was happening, there was an incident down at the morgue as well. Everyone who worked in there was found dead, and all the bodies of those who died from the hallucination were missing. The tunnel entrance nearest to the morgue had been burst open, and, like the morgue, had bodies in the path between the morgue and the entrance to the tunnels. What was really disturbing was that each and every body looked as if they wrestled a bear.

At the time, no one could make sense of such a thing. How could any group of people pull of something so sick and disturbing without anyone else knowing. Well, actually, no one did.Looking back, it's clear that it was the damned Tuurngait! The parasites took control of the bodies. It was the dead that did it!

As if things weren't already going downhill, they really started to free fall now. Within the week, dozens of minors turned up dead the same way the morgue people were. There were sightings of strange creatures. Some of them were quadraped and ran from light; others, well, we bipedal and holding things like flashlights and mining equipment. All the creatures were white, and looked as if they had no eyes.

Then, one day after my shift, I was in my quarters looking over my research into pulsing, egg-like objects found on the walls of some of the tunnels, when the power went out. All the doors are mechanical so I was trapped. I still am. I've been in this room since, writing this letter to let anyone who finds it know what happened. Under the only source of light, a small flashlight. The battery is dying, oxygen is running out, and I'm hearing frighteningly disturbing noises outside the door, and what sounds like someone trying to get in. I don't have much time, so this is the least I can do. And remember, avoid the Tuurngait at all costs. Or else you may end up like me.

[Tunco]

This one creeped me out a little but it's good too,edit it and attach it to a file.

[Sniperwhere]

Alright. A file is attached.

It was written in a bit of a hurry so there's a lot of open ends I could tie.

[Tunco]

What about a series of stories like this?
It would be nice.
You write nice stories.

[Sniperwhere]

You mean like write stories to fill in the blanks? Hm... that sounds like a good idea.

And thank you. Really like to hear that. :)

[Sniperwhere]

One of my earlier stories. Before they started getting longer and more narrative.



It begins much like a ring. It starts in your ear. A funny little ring. A bothersome little ring. As time passes, it grows louder. Bugging you like a gnat in your face. You brush it off only for it to return all the more annoying. More time. Even louder than before. Desperate, you start scratching at your face. Damnit, why won't it stop?

Suddenly, it does. Silence. Ah, the golden sound of silence. But what's this? A voice? What is it saying? You can't hear it.

"Rip them, maim them, kill them!"

The sound hits you like a truck without brakes.

"Rip them, maim them, kill them!"

It's deftening in your ears. It screams at you. Commands you. But where is it from?

"Rip them, maim them, kill them!"

Sounds of agony leave your mouth as you tear at your face. Trying so desperately to get at this painful sound. To rip it out of your head. You start thrashing about. Hitting the walls. Clawing your face. Pulling your hair. Trying everything in your power to make it stop.

"It's them! Get them! They're after you! Get them before they get you! Rip them, maim them, kill them!"

You scream in defiance. You mustn't give in. Never to do as it asks. A slicing pain, much like a razor, shoots down your spin. It hits every nerve, every cell in your body as it's commanding voice orders.

"What are you waiting for? Rip them, maim them, kill them ALL!!!!"

Torture so painful you fall to your knees. Tears flow like a waterfall as you give in. Anything to stop the pain. Stop the voice. Shut it up for good. You reach for a brick as consiousness abandones you.

You come to. Silence. Beautiful, lovely, silence. But who's that? Who're they? Are they dead? How'd they die? Scared, you run. Afraid that the killer may come after you. You run. Oblivious to the blood on your hands. To the brick you still carry.

Days later. All is well. A beautiful, sunny, summer day, in a busy city park. The sun shines, the sky is blue, and.... what's this in your ear? My, what a funny little ringing.

[SlappyMcGee]

Whoah, whoah. You don't need an individual thread for each of your short stories!

I'll copy them all here.

Another of my early stories. Also based off of starcraft, although only obscure references are hinting at it.



You awaken from eternal slumber. Death's embrace has released you. No. Forced off of you. You're aware of your existence. But you can't see. Can't feel. Can't smell. Can't taste. Can't hear. Nothing. But you are aware.

Suddenly, you start to hear. One sense has returned. But all you hear is machinery. Beeping and humming. What's going on?

Then. Instantly, you're vision returns. Full, but... different. Very different. It's unnatural. As if being projected through a digital screen. You can't blink. Why blink when you have no eyes?

Another minute of beeping and humming passes. You sway. Drop like a weight just came thrashing down upon you. You rise. In complete control. Fully in command of your... body? What are you?

Looking around, you examine your surroundings. A factory. Already confused, you look at yourself. Four legs. But... mechanical? Jutting from your... cylindrical body?!

Realization crashes upon you like a raging hurricane.

You have been recreated. Reborn. To fight one more battle. To die one more honorable death.

A loud hiss. Blinding light appears in front of you. Yet, for all it's brightness, you can see. You lurch forward. One mechanical step at a time. Lurch toward the light that should be blinding.

Your foot hits solid ground. Blinding light turns into clear blue skies. All around you are trees. Strange things. Brown-blue bark that twists like screws out of the ground. And in front of you, gold. two smooth golden claws jutting from the ground. Perfect in symmetry and elegant in design. And in the center, blue. A beautiful hue of lighted mist flow from the claws. Twisting and warping in on itself. pulling towards the center like the center of a whirlpool. Nothing new to you.

You head towards it. Fully aware of what it is. What you must do.

Stepping into the beautiful hurricane, you fell a strange tingling. Suddenly, a rapid pull on you're entire body. Like a black holes' maelstrom, it pulls you in. engulfing you in blue light for a fraction of a second.

You emerge. Ash. Fire. Smoke clouded skies. Skeletons. Blood. Everywhere you look. Perfect.

You reach out with your mind. Tapping the mental link you've known since birth. You reach a familiar feeling.

"I have returned."

[SlappyMcGee]

Edit: Sorry about these last two, I accidentally deleted the topic before I remembered I could just merge them. You'll have a ten dollar credit at the SlappyMcGee Casino.

I bet you can tell what game this is based off of.

This was the first story I ever wrote.

They are near. The Chattering and clicking of something terrible grow loud. They come. They come over ashen hills. They come over bloody oceans. Driven by urge, impulse and the will to murder. The endless swarm. A sea of angery flesh. The souless minions of the great and horrible Overmind. One brain. One will. One murderous instinct.

Like a nightmare come true. You pray. You pray to any God you hope is there. You pray to wake up. But alas, it's not a dream. The essence of terror, of horror and of fright is afore you. Surrounding you. Consuming all in it's path like an endless flood. Consuming joy and optimism like fire to oil. An unstoppable wall of death. Ever moving and changing shape.

They are upon you. You cry out. Cry to a saviour you long to come rescue you. To a hope of a second chance. To nothing. Their talons; their sythes; their twisted weapons of flesh and bone dig into you. Effortlessly like a knife through warm butter. Torn apart by flawless appendages of unspeakable malevolence.

Eye sight fades. Death looms over you like a dark cloud. Waiting to suck the last bits of life out of your mangled body. But in the rapids of the tide of flesh, a lone figure stands. A disturbing entity. A demonic shape. A being once human.

Your final moments are upon you. The figure is gone. And like a flash, there once again. Closer. Staring into your eyes. Past your eyes. Into your mind. Corrupting your thoughts. Slowing your death only to torment you further. Filling your brain with all things horrible. And once sanity abondones you, it releases you to deaths cold embrace.

It moves on. She moves on. Ever searching for the next pitiful victim. Her past screams at her in the back of her mind. She ignores it. For that is not who she is anymore. She's different. Changed. Perfected. She is Kerrigen. She is the Queen of Blades. The Queen of the Swarm. Who forever hungers to kill.

[Sniperwhere]

Heh, sorry about that. If i'd known I'd be posting everything, I would have made a single topic.


Edit: New one. Wrote it in first period today. It's called "Perfect World."


It's no secret that the world is a terrible place. Violence, murder, rape, drugs, and much more. It runs our lives, actions; everything. The moment you step outside, this is obvious. The disgusting haze of pollution that hovers over the world, forever ready to rain down it's horrors onto an already blighted world. But the worst? Everyone knows, but nobody cares.

I took a walk the other day. I went out into this world for a reason I, myself, can't yet figure out. Maybe it was to find a solution. Maybe I was searching for a small glint of hope. Maybe I was just braving the storm of insanity. I'm not sure. But I went out and observed the world. The streets, the malls, the social hangouts. It was ugly, but at the same time, it was beautiful.

I walked the streets. Brick walls were covered in graffiti; the pinnacle of modern art. It screamed at me. Shouted messages in a broken language. I felt like it was trying to tell me something. To tell me how much the world hurt. Like a bible would preach it's religion, it preached the world's pain. Nearby, a bum lay on the ground. He was passed out. An open bottle of hard liquor in his limp hands. All that his money could buy him. He works so hard to simply forget it all at the end of the day. Can we blame him?

There was a coffee shop on the corner. Two guys sat outside. Two sickos sharing the name of "human". They shouted of sex and pornography to girls passing by. They berated school children and picked fights with those who were doomed with a similar stupidity. As I walked passed, they looked at me. Their eyes spoke their mind. In them, I saw hate. I saw a primal urge to hurt and kill. I kept walking. I couldn't care less.

The malls were no different. The mass of social parasites gathered in numbers. They talked about anything and everything. They wasted their money on the trivial and mundane. They complained about the sorry state of the world, as if they knew. If only they had eyes to see. To see how major a role they play in this mess. It made me sick. There was graffiti here, too. Unlike before, this was different. It didn't speak of the world. It was more of a mark. Photographic evidence of human deterioration. Displayed as if they were proud of how far they've fallen.

But I saw things I didn't expect. I saw happiness. I saw hope. I saw a small shred of sanity still fighting against the darkness. I passed a park. It was full of children; smiling, laughing, playing, having fun. The park was their world. A world for them to live in their own little worlds. Free and protected from my world.

Two blocks down, a man tried to rape a woman. A passer-by stopped him. A complete stranger took a knife for someone he's never met, so she could be saved from another horror. I stood in awe. Not because of the blood, or the misfortune to see this take place; but because someone had actually been there to help. My walk was over. I headed home.

As I walked through the door of my house, I dropped to my knees. Tears began flowing from my eyes. I had been so blind. I spent so much time obsessing over the bad. I had assumed the world to be nothing more than infection; a disease to our galaxy. I failed to see what I had become. Failed to see that I had become what I hated most. As I sat there; mind racing as the crying slowed, light from the afternoon sun shone in through the window. As I looked out of it, I could see the city. It looked different now. the haze of pollution, the towering behemoths of corporate offices, it all looked different. It had a glow to it; shining with an unnameable radiance. It was beautiful.

At that moment; that one fragment of time where a parade of emotions flared inside me, I realized something. For all that's wrong with the world, for all it's crap and blights, the world is perfect. Flawless in it's design and mechanics.

I went for a walk again. This time, I went to enjoy the good.

[Sniperwhere]

Um... this was intended to be a topic for the tons of stories I end up writing, but okay.

The story was pretty good, but you could maybe space out paragraphs to help indicate any changes in direction, however slight it may be.

[Seneschal]

My eyes are unfocused, everything is a blur. “Where am I?” A chill runs up my vertebrae as I realised I am spread-eagled on an icy cold concrete floor. “How did I get here?” A putrid odour of decaying fills my nostrils as I manoeuvre my aching tender body towards an offering of rancid milk and rock solid bread. “Am I safe?” A small pool of azure blue water is forming over in the corner of this concrete chamber as water droplets steadily trickle down the soiled walls. I instinctively inch towards the puddle eager for an energizing drink. The mirrored surface of the puddle ripples uneasily as I cast my gaze into its depths. With a shock I reel away horrified, a face that is not my own is staring out of that hellish water. Dark shadowed eyes, disfigured nose, crawling chin, this can not be me. Anxiously I edge back to the pool, yearning for the face to be but an illusion. My hoping is in vain; as yet again the poignantly morose visage gapes intently out towards me. My mind feels uncomfortable; I have no living memory or recollection of my life. “What is my name? Who am I?” Inside my essence screams out for an affectionate reassuring person to come and tell me that this is all a dream. I curl up into a tight impenetrable ball. Abandoned, isolated, deserted, forlorn… Alone.

Nice! Although, azure blue is a tautology, and I agree with sniperwhere, you need paragraph spacing.

@Sniperwhere:

I sense a future career as a writer, the fact you can produce great passages regularly in an interesting style is amazing.
I hope to see you in print...remember to mention the name sniperwhere so we all know it's you!

[Lenny]

Unfortunately I don't have time to read all of everything in here, but I'd like to commend you on the very beginning post. I really like it.

What your brother wrote was great too. While I didn't like it as much, I very much liked the concluding part, and thought it was all very well-written.

[Sniperwhere]

Wow. Thank you guys. It really does feel good to here that. I mean it. :)


As great as it would be to get published in anything, I don't exactly know where I would get published. I have a friend who's gotten stories printed; maybe I should talk to him.

I've got another one on the way. It'll take a while as I'm also working on Dreadwood.(first one) But I've got all Spring Break to do that.

[Tunco]

Well downloaded all of them,and it seems that you are a really good writer.And what I suggest is continue the first story(at the top)and post it as a file,but since it will be continue post it like this:
Part 1:"----"
Part 2:"----"
The "----"was the name of the story,I hope you can find one,it should be interesting.Nice job,continue writing.

[maya]

You are really good at writing these stories. They are unique with a great distinctive style.

Keep up the great work.

:D