Siege Of The Questing Stone 1Part 1: The Rite Of Initiation
The bright rays of the early morning sun began to peek throug Ravius' window, reminding him of the task he had sworn to perform today. It wasn't that he didn't want to do it, but simply a matter of uncertainty.
He didn't know what to expect, and hated that feeling. It had been a year and a half since he had washed up on the island, where the Hunters of the Stag found him unconscious.
His first memory on the island--indeed, his first memory because of his severe amnesia--had been in this very same chamber.
His past was locked behind a giant door, one he couldn't open despite his efforts. Countless times he had tried to remember his past, and each time the door had slammed in his face.
Whatever he had been, he was no more. There was only present and future for him now, and the Hunters had taken him in without hesitation, without fear, without hatred. He knew this was where he belonged, and he had tried to fit in ever since.
He slowly sat up
This is the story of a journalist,
who worked for the media,
got pissed and quit
Gonna prove that I exist
on this search for eternal bliss
Won't find it, but it's worth the risk
cuz I get to kiss the moon,
make love to the sky,
charge up, let go, let loose, and fly
you should try this life
despite the fight
despite the bright lights
It's worth my time,
all the time that I've got,
and I won't stop til I'm
a household name, bathed in fame,
if only so my name won't be lost to time
cuz it's a crime when good people get forgotten,
or left behind in the rain
ashamed to say their own name
for fear that it'll go away
and leave them alone at the end of the day,
no house, no car, no love, no way to make it past today
That's why I write, you know,
so that one day I can tell my kids
about the time daddy got discovered,
the world uncovered my works,
my art, my reason for living,
the one thing fulfilling my deepest and darkest desires,
to be remembered after I'm gone,
to have candle fires burn in vi
Whiplash, Chapter 6
Now wasn't this just perfect.
My best friend, apparently, is also my worst enemy. A rogue Enforcer. Something about this was just too unbelievable for me. I stood, and mentioned something about needing to use the bathroom. I did, but that's beside the point. My real intention was to get some time to think about the implications of all of this.
I relieved myself as a million thought rushed through my head. I found myself thinking that I couldn't entirely trust Athena. Something about her just seemed wrong. I don't care what she said about an unloaded gun, that revolver was heavy enough to be a fairly lethal club should the need arise.
Besides, I'd pinned her earlier as the small-arms type.
I went back in my memory to when she rescued me in the sewer. I remembered taking some sleeping pills from her. I wondered if she needed them. Retrieving the bottle from yesterday's pants, I took one pill out and dropped it into the toilet. The pill did nothing for a few moments, then exploded into a
Whiplash, Chapter 5
I woke up to light streaming in the window, disoriented and a bit dazed. I looked around. I was in the bedroom, and I wondered how I got there. I didn't think Sam would be able to carry me, but apparently she had. She was stronger than she looked, I supposed. I filed that away for future reference.
I rolled over and found Sam in the bed next to me, snoring lightly. It was, unlike most snores, rather cute. I ran my fingers through her hair, kissed her ear, and shook her gently. She turned to me sleepily and looked at me through half-closed eyes, smiling weakly. "Hey love," she said to me, and curled into my arms.
"Hey," I replied, enveloping her in my warmth. We snuggled for a little while, before the protesting of our stomachs got to be stronger than the will to stay in bed and be comfortable.
I got up first and wandered into the kitchen, where I found a skillet, eggs, and a variety of additives (olives, mushrooms, cheese, and the like). I surprised myself with the speed of which I fou
Whiplash, Chapter 4
I woke up from that dream with a start, sitting up and holding the side of my head. I felt a headache coming on, and I wondered if it was because of the dream or the wound. I figured it was equal parts of both, and attempted to control my heart rate, which was racing out of control. I stood up and focused on my breathing.
Samantha stirred and rolled over. When she wasn't able to find me in the bed with her, she sat up, giving me a quizzical look. When she saw me standing there, holding my head and in a near panic state, she immediately stood and gently forced me to lay down again. She wrapped me in her arms, making soothing noises, and running her hands gently over my skin. I could feel myself begin to relax, and my more logical side began to kick back in.
I'd like to say I was a tough guy at that point, but I wasn't. Sometimes you need to cry, and that was one of those times. I probably cried for the better part of an hour in her arms, and Samantha seemed to be perfectly capable of ha
Whiplash, Chapter 3
He stopped laughing when he got a bullet in the head.
What I had done was to take off my jacket and my pants when I heard his voice, then hang them in the shower to make it look like I was hiding in it. Then I crammed myself into a cupboard under the sink that would've been cramped for a mouse, but I managed. When he started shooting my jacket, I popped out of my hiding spot and blasted the back of his head off. I pried myself out of the cupboard and surveyed the damage, making a mental checklist. Jacket shredded. Glass doors shattered. Pants salvageable. Corpse messy. Walls bloody. Weapon salvageable. Man identifiable…I hoped.
I rolled him over, spilling brains and blood over my bathroom floor. I immediately recognized him as the man I had taken the belt from. This I wasn't expecting. I was thinking it would be some nameless, faceless cold-hearted killer, not someone I had interacted with less than an hour ago, someone who seemed to be my friend. I shuddered and thought about what thi
Whiplash, Chapter 2
The bar was rather seedy, with dark amber lights and light amber beer. I had no doubt that both needed replacing desperately. I asked for a water and sat down, pulling the pictures out of my pocket. The water I received looked darker than most beers here and probably had more toxins in it than the sewer, but I didn't care. My body needed the water right now. So I sipped my drink and perused the pictures.
Apparently I was an amateur porn artist, or at least I had taken nude pictures of a girl. I assumed she was my girlfriend, or at least someone I slept with on a regular basis. Blond petite number, and judging from the photographs, she was experienced and liked the schoolgirl outfit. The second half of the roll was more artistic, things like street signs, people feeding pigeons in the park, close-ups of flowers, and various other sundry things. Unfortunately, most of them were out of focus.
At first I didn't notice, but the last picture on the roll clinched it for me. I had taken a pict
Whiplash, Chapter 1
I woke to water dripping on my head. I was in a dark room, with no memory of who I was or what I was doing there. It was dark, morbidly dark …the room felt more like a tomb than anything. Perhaps that was what it was. I was sitting in the corner, the bricks pushing painfully into my back.
I discovered no one else in the room when I checked around me. In fact, there was little in the way of decoration besides a box in the corner and a hammer with a few rusty nails sitting on top. Only one door, a metal number with a grating in the top half. Looked beat-up, or like someone had broken it down and re-hung it several times.
It was just about then that I realized my head hurt. A lot. Reaching up, I felt my left temple and found a gooey mess. Now my head hurt and my hand was covered in blood. No bones and no bits of brain tissue, however, which is always a good thing,
I stood, supporting myself against the wall in case my legs were too weak to handle the sudden increase in weight. Its' a good