Board Home | Search | Login The Resistance HQ :: Resistance Forums :: EC-10 Sense Offenses :: Memories (Fiction) Page 1 of 3 » Jump to page   Go     Author Topic: Memories (Fiction) (Read 2,542 times) Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Memories (Fiction) « Thread Started on Dec 2, 2003, 5:38am » I decided a while ago to use Whisper City, my own dark future setting, as a vehicle to tell short stories and experiment with writing styles. Since a few people like my writing (JenGe included) I thought I might post another story I'm working on, this one will be rather longer and in several parts. First some background: Whisper City There's a certain line in The Crow that matches Whisper, 'It can't rain all the time'. Whisper is a City in the near future that exists in and around the year 2032 - It's a cyberpunk style setting and it is named due to the sound the rain often makes, hissing into the streets...a whisper... Whisper is a dark and dangerous place, but it's also a beautiful city of magnificent skylines and proud buildings. It is also a place where reality can often take a back seat. Memories of a red light night… The body slipped down into the cold muddy alley and lay still, the woman dropped it with a deep and languid sigh, ‘why were the cute ones always so dumb?’ she thought and kicked it over, putting the face towards the sky, the tears that fell from the heavens mixed with the blood and made pretty patterns across the skin. “You just wouldn’t take no for an answer would you?” A memory stirred like a forgotten melody in her mind, snapping forwards into focus with the camera-flash of a photographic frame, she was walking back from a wonderful party, on top of the world and just scored a big time contract right out from under Max Coralline’s nose, the head honcho of Whisper City, oh and it felt good. “You had to just push, until something snapped.” He had stepped from the shadows and grabbed hold of her; a normal woman would have just frozen and let out a scream, or perhaps a whimper. But Red could never be classed as a normal woman, her eyes began to narrow and a single gloved hand rose to touch his cold and slim one. “Hey honey, looking for a good time?” His breath smelt of stale beer and something she couldn’t quite place, had she not had a cast iron constitution it might have made her vomit, but instead she calmly replied. “Babe, I just had a good time, and believe you me…not in a million years could you give me the high, from the news I just got.” “Never listen, always have to think you’re bigger and better than everyone else.” The key to surviving a hostage situation is this, try and find some common ground, that’s what she’d always been told…and she quietly reigned in her usual sharp comments and acid tongue as he man, predictably for one of his kind – yanked her hair tightly and hissed. “I don’t think you get me, baby…are you looking for a good time?” “I thought that was an offer, not a threat?” She inwardly smiled at that one; another tug of her hair and Red was getting truly pissed off with this clown. “You know, you’re beginning to get on my nerves with that.” “Aw…what you gonna do about it?” And then it came, the sharp feeling of something six inches and made of steel in her back; she closed her eyes and sighed again. “So this is the game you want to play, ok, we’ll play by my –rules-…” It was her turn to hiss and she did the unexpected…something that caused him to let her go, and the knife by proxy. She backed right onto the blade, gritting her teeth at the slow almost sensual penetration of the steel through her skin, into the body. It turned her on beyond anything she expected, but that’s the kind of woman Red was, money…power…you name it. She had it all. Now the hunter stood with his jaw bobbing like a goldfish, while she stretched in the rain and the wet soaked through to her skin. He kept mouthing something that sounded like… “Sick fucking bitch…” Over and over again, almost like a mantra as if it would make the bad images in his brain go away. Almost in slow motion the woman carefully pulled the weapon from her back, letting it clatter to the ground, the impact threw up a red-tinted crown of droplets before it splashed into nothing. “Looking for a good time honey?” She mimicked now and set about a purposeful stalk, bringing her into direct line with the man, his wits were slowly struggling to fathom what just happened – in the book of thug, people don’t just knife themselves and stalk towards you, if his brain had been aware of what was about to happen, it would have vacated his skull through his ears and left him to fry. “Bitch.” Another wonderful word from the eloquent would-be suitor and he tried drawing a nine, she slapped it to the side with a sudden yanking motion of her hand, the impact shattered his wrist as though it was made of glass. Agony flooded his whole body and the thug just screamed. “That’s good, let it out, and let it all out.” She soothed softly and snapped up her foot, in those heels it’s lucky she didn’t rip the man’s eye out, instead the blow sundered the bridge of his nose and he let loose another cry, blood ran down over his lips and his eyes went wide. “Monsters we are, lest monsters we become…” Now she let go, why not? She’d had a great party and the night was as young as he was, no one was around. Long scarlet fingernails fell in a dervish of sudden movement, the battle was one sided and as he tried to defend – she tore into his clothes and skin like a rabid animal, but if the fight were rendered down into liquid time…if each moment drawn out into more than one, it would have seemed like she were the perfect dancer, a ballet of violence, choreographed for one audience, who likely would have appreciated another kind of dance. To her he was the one in slow motion, his defences came too late, as though he were battling through treacle, the joys of having such heightened senses – those senses now redlined and switched into predatory glory, Red was the epitome of everything that men wanted, and she was also the pinnacle of the pyramid when it came to primal emotions. And as the fight drew on, the more he tried to defend, the more she started to surrender to that which clawed in the centre of her being. Red ‘Scarlet’ Lacey was old enough to be this jerk’s great, great, great, great and possibly great grandmother – well - you get the picture? The eyes were the first to go, Red’s matched her name in hue and colour, bright orbs of a sanguine crimson fire. Matchless in their intensity and fixed upon him, as he smashed against a metal grating, marking it with the shape of his body she heard the tell-tale snap of a few ribs and stepped back, licking her nails. “Oh too bad, all tough but no toughness, got no stamina – and I had only just started to get my groove on.” She chuckled as the sweet red liquid danced on her tongue. “But you know what’s the real problem with fighting? Apart from the fact that it gets me all…well, you don’t need to know that…it makes me, listen.” He wasn’t really in much of a shape to reply, expect for a few curses, mumbles and a half-arsed attempt to rise, which left him splayed on the ground. “And I can hear your heart hammering in that big old chest of yours.” Her eyes gleamed again; she began her stalk again and smiled, her canines now evident. “Whisper City isn’t a place for scum like you, and it’s time that someone put the bite on this kind of thing.” He didn’t have time to do much except a squeal of breath as his body was hauled up, by the collar, one handed - the woman’s eyes level with his own now. “Normally when I do this kind of thing, I make it really pleasant for the person I’m with, you know the whole get to have sex at the same time…but because you had to stalk the streets, the great hunter of the female population, I’m going to make a real exception.” Her tone was quite conversational as her free hand made a sudden movement. « Last Edit: Dec 2, 2003, 5:40am by Witcher Wolf » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #1 on Dec 2, 2003, 5:38am » To him it felt like he’d been suddenly slammed by a two hundred tonne freight train in the chest, he tried to fall but the woman kept him upright, fingers now anchored in his collarbone, the blood slowly rolling down over his shoulder. His eyes were as wide as lamplights for a few seconds as his vision blurred. “You might have got lucky.” She whispered into his ear, lulling almost. “You might have been the one to take my heart.” A gentle trace of her lips against his brow sealed with a soft kiss on the cheek. Something wasn’t right, he couldn’t feel much and he felt kind of slow, almost dulled – his senses were rapidly growing less acute, not as though there were finely honed in the first place. He felt an odd kind of ache as if something was missing, and when he brought up a hand to experimentally touch his chest. “Fuck.” He managed, looking at the pools of blood at his feet, on his hand. “In your dreams!” She kicked him backwards and he slammed into the alley wall, leaving a sickening trail of scarlet down as he slid. The memories faded and the rain continued to pour, Red’s eye dimmed and she dropped the mass of pulped muscle. “Like I said handsome, you could have had my heart, but in the end…” She glanced to the slowly pooling blood. “I had to make a point by tearing yours out.” With a glance to the body and the organ that was sundered from it, she gave a tight-lipped smile and lit a cigarette - it was her way. Just like Whisper City herself, Red could be a real bitch when provoked. As the rain began to come down even harder the woman looked to the sky and shook her head. “Don’t cry dear, not over that kind of trash, he’s another misfire in the gene pool…better off without him.” The slow sound of her boots echoed off in the night’s embrace as she threaded her way through the alley, one last glance thrown towards the body, a soft laugh and Red began to whistle gently. The strains of that melody were not lost on someone else who had been observing the interplay and seemed quite amused, but it was of course only Whisper’s way of promoting more twists and turns for her inhabitants. As Red left the alley her cigarette went out as a sudden gust of wind snapped by with fingers of cold mischief. The woman muttered an irritated sigh and was about to throw it onto the floor, when a pale hand flicked out an ornate ‘chrome’ lighter, a flame danced at the call of the owner – she traced the lines and shape with a calculating hunter’s gaze. “That’s awfully kind of you babe.” She whispered and then her voice fell into a silence, another look was given to this stranger. He was nearly six foot eight inches tall, pale skinned and built as lean and lithe as a stalking panther might be, there was muscle there but it was wrapped in black: leather, silk and velvet. The silk was his shirt, the velvet a waistcoat buttoned with silver and the leather was a combination of tight pants and a long coat, finally to finish this ensemble a wide-brimmed black hat perched almost orderly upon the man’s head. He had waves of immaculate long dark hair and his eyes were hidden behind reflective black shades, they brought into stark relief her own features and she flustered only slightly. Something about this figure put her on edge, and it wasn’t in a good or bad way, it was a feeling she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Nicholas.” He intoned quietly, with a masterful tone, one that spoke of his breeding and manners. “Winter, at your service miss.” “The?” “The very same.” He inclined his head and tipped his hat, showing the shape of the points on his ears. “One of the many who you might deem visitors, who came for the wine and stayed for the wars.” She laughed at this, the feeling had been correct, she had sensed in this man that which could not be normal, he was one of the people who her ancestors had raved about as dangerous and tricky, the ‘Fae’… “Red.” Came her reply, there was no need to tip the man off to exactly who she was, a single lick of her lips followed. “So Mr. Winter, what side of the mirror do you come from?” “Ah, that would be telling, but for one so famous as yourself, miss Lacey…” He chuckled a little, tipping his hat again and lowering those glasses, she could see the bright phosphor of his eyes. “Unseelie through and through.” Her pout confirmed his assumption and he took another step towards her, she almost backed off, but the flickering flame kept her attention. “I think I’d like another cigarette, do you happen to have a spare?” “Why of course, Red, a spare is almost always somewhere close at hand. It’s like a pack of cards, always more –hearts- than just the one.” The other hand made a flicking motion and in a quick display of legerdemain Nicholas Winter produced a slim black cigarette. “My favourite, I hope you don’t mind?” Wordlessly she took the offered black cigarette and allowed him to light it for her; finally she drew in a deep breath and felt the smoke pass through her. “Black Russian? How did you? Know?” “A guess, nothing more.” He grinned an impish grin, made more pointed by the angular face and features. “I am a man who walks a shadowed path, I assumed that you would be a woman of taste and therefore, for you, only the best.” A congenial nod confirmed that he was indeed right, and then she smiled brightly. “You know Mr. Winter, this night could turn out to be even better than I thought, since you know who I am, do you also know my company recently whipped a deal out from Max’s talons?” “I had heard on the grapevine.” He took his own cigarette and lit it. “They said to me, that these might do me harm? I have smoked them since the brand was coined, I remember them in nineteen forty four.” His chuckle confirmed that the Fae had seen her reaction, and Red blinked a couple of times. “I won’t ask how long you have been here Mr. Winter, but perhaps we should get out from the rain, I know a small café nearby – if you’d consent to a cup of coffee, with a perfect stranger?” What was she doing, she wasn’t really sure, but you don’t just walk away from a meeting with Nick Winter, not only was he a Fae but he was almost as powerful as Max in his own way – and Red adored power. “Red, I would be delighted and honoured to join you in a coffee, had you not suggested it to me…I fear I would have been forced to suggest it to, you.” He turned and walked a pace or two over to a sleek, shiny black car. “And we shall go in style.” “Oh yeah, is that what I think it is?” “A modern equivalent of a Lamborghini Diablo, yes Red, you are quite right.” The Fae opened the door for her. “This one has been modified and extended, as you can see, there’s also room for people in the back – I never did like things that cramped my style.” As she slid into the passenger seat, the rain cooling on her body, she was dimly aware of the blood on her hands – how could she have been so foolish? Had he seen? She wiped them on her dress and then thanked the night that the interior of the car was dark. His door opened, he removed the hat and tossed it in the back seat. “I have noticed…that you are a little soaked, would you like to pick up some dry clothes and perhaps visit a restaurant?” “First coffee and now dinner, my we move fast Mr. Winter.” She feigned a sudden almost Victorian attitude and gave a scowl, a few seconds later the façade cracked and Red gave a soft sigh. “I would kill to get into a better dress and you don’t know what I’d do to be invited to dinner.” “I move fast, in some things, and in other things I take my time.” He keyed the ignition and the Diablo growled in response, the vibrations sounding like a soft low purr. “Where to?” “My townhouse, well, it’s more a retreat of sorts – you’re honoured Mr. Winter, not many people see it.” She leaned over and whispered the address into his slim pointed ear. “Classy.” He replied and steered the vehicle into the rain washed streets, the lights picking out the darkness of Whisper in a glorious flash and streak of sudden illumination. “I hope you don’t mind?” He flicked the player to something classical and rested a single hand on the wheel. “Mind, this is perfect, you’re an angel Nicholas Winter, a true angel…well, albeit a dark one.” Her laughter danced on those ruby lips again and she settled back. “I feel quite pampered.” *tbc* « Last Edit: Dec 2, 2003, 5:38am by Witcher Wolf » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Xenia Onatopp- Bale Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline A CB addict and an EQ junkie Joined: Nov 2003 Gender: Female Posts: 4,139 Location: in CB's bedroom Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #2 on Dec 2, 2003, 8:49am » You're an AWESOME GENIUS,Cleric Wolf!!! CONGRATULATIONS!!!! I just love it. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged "Terrorism is the war of the poor. War is the terrorism of the rich."-an Iraqi protester. "Absolute power corrupts absolutely." from the novel Absolute Power by David Baldacci "There's so much month left at the end of the money"-CQ "Life is full of pain.Get used to it.-A Long Kiss Goodnight Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #3 on Dec 2, 2003, 8:56am » Heh, it's only just getting started :> Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Cleric smith Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline me against the world Joined: Aug 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 892 Location: south london Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #4 on Dec 2, 2003, 12:10pm » great work,man Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #5 on Dec 2, 2003, 12:15pm » thanks cleric smith Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Cleric smith Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline me against the world Joined: Aug 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 892 Location: south london Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #6 on Dec 2, 2003, 12:18pm » my pleasure,cleric Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged JenGe Evidentiary Storage Officer member is offline "Its just a vestigial word for a feeling you've never felt." Joined: Mar 2003 Posts: 8,505 Location: Surfing the Net Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #7 on Dec 2, 2003, 7:46pm » excellent as always!! You really amaze me!! Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged "We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented." - Truman Show Trinity Guest Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #8 on Dec 2, 2003, 11:25pm » Haven't read this one yet, but that's 'cause I'm so engrossed in Wyrden right now. But I've printed this one to add to my collection. Your works are amazing...they speak to me. May I ask something? Do you conjure all of these great tales with the assurance of their publication, or are these works you do just for you and friends in your spare time? Thanks. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Libby Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Life is a rollercoaster, just gotta ride it! Joined: Nov 2003 Gender: Female Posts: 3,138 Location: England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #9 on Dec 3, 2003, 4:46am » This is just beautiful. Your phrasing and dialogue are so well paced. For the time I was reading, I was there, and when I finished I was left with that slight disorientation you get when you've let the real world go and then have to return to it because there are no more words to keep you there. More please! Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged ] Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #10 on Dec 3, 2003, 7:29am » I tend to write for the love/joy of writing and to share the stories that I craft, with not only just friends/family. But also with other people, I suppose this is the new frontier in a sense, where the idea of the old novel is complimented by the online novella, serial story or what ere you'd like to call it. Most of my work is published in different areas, RPG books, PC games. So this is something that I do to improve my writing style and storytelling. For instance, House of Cards is a story that I've been thinking on for a while now, it's written specifically for you folks here at the EQ forums. Whisper City stories are either short one shots, or like this one, much longer evolving tales to capture the essence of the world that I created and to bring to life the characters within. Thanks very much for the feedback and everso kind words « Last Edit: Dec 3, 2003, 7:30am by Witcher Wolf » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Xenia Onatopp- Bale Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline A CB addict and an EQ junkie Joined: Nov 2003 Gender: Female Posts: 4,139 Location: in CB's bedroom Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #11 on Dec 3, 2003, 8:52am » MABUHAY!!!!! Cleric Wolf. Cheers to your very promising writing career!!!! Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged "Terrorism is the war of the poor. War is the terrorism of the rich."-an Iraqi protester. "Absolute power corrupts absolutely." from the novel Absolute Power by David Baldacci "There's so much month left at the end of the money"-CQ "Life is full of pain.Get used to it.-A Long Kiss Goodnight Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #12 on Dec 3, 2003, 10:28am » “Pampered?” The Fae chuckled in the back of his throat; putting his hand upon the gear stick of the car he shifted it to cruise and kept his foot down. The wheels threw the rain into slashes as the vehicle sped on through the night. “Handsome man, utterly beguiling one might say and such an elegant mode of transport.” She ran her fingernails over the door for a moment. “And to top it off, Vivaldi, the Four Seasons. You really are a very smooth operator. Mr. Winter.” His reply was another laugh and he inclined his head, dark eyes shimmering softly for a moment. “Ever since we found this world, we’ve had a vested interest in it, the people and especially those who are well…can I say, unique?” “Unique?” She turned to look at him and raised a slender brow. “You think I am, unique?” “Indeed.” Nick’s accent was almost entirely British; occasionally it seemed to slip with a tang of American. “I have always had an eye for the finer things in life, as one of the darker of my kinsmen…I also tend to be attracted to the darker side of…life.” Her smile slipped a little, and she narrowed her eyes for a moment, studying the man and his words – she was looking for angles, power plays and subtle digs. She came up empty and offered a small shrug. “What can I say Nick, I am who I am and if people don’t like it.” The woman’s lips thinned into a gentle pout. “They can get the hell out of my way, now a question for you?” “Be my guest?” The Diablo continued to cut through the rain, as black and sleek as the driver, inside the atmosphere grew a little cooler. Most of it from Red, she had become paranoid over the years and so far – it had saved her life on more than one occasion. “Was our meeting arranged?” Her tones had the dangerous edge about them again, almost the same as she’d used in the alley with the thug. But she knew Winter’s reputation, so she was mindful to keep from demanding her answers harshly. “Red my dear, nothing in Whisper City ever happens by chance, you should know that. I admit, I knew you’d be there because I overheard Coralline’s plans to send out that particular bruiser.” He flipped the wheel and the car skidded neatly around a corner, heading out of the main area of Whisper now, moving towards the upper class area. “I have to admit, you dealt with him…admirably.” The Fae’s laugh was like a cold waterfall of trickling sounds, swept along perhaps by chance, with the stirring sounds of ‘Winter’ from the Four Seasons. He took a moment to regard the woman at his side, she was pouting again and looking thoughtful. “Max set me up?” Her eyes were turning that shade of angry red and Winter watched almost fascinated, before he turned his attention to the road ahead. “Max underestimated you, you’re a very secretive woman Red, which means that he wants to know all about you. What you can do, how much of a threat you are to him and most importantly – what you /are/…” He let those words sink in for a while, tapping the wheel lightly with his thin fingers. She let out a breath and gave a sharp nod. “So he sent you to spy on me? Find out what I am, kill me perhaps because I’m in his way?” She was making wild accusations and stabbing in the dark. “I would rather kill time than kill someone as unique and beautiful as you my dear.” Nicholas gave a sure smile, one that proved he wasn’t toying with her. “I overheard his plans and decided that I would make it my business, I can’t have Max taking you out at all – better the devil you want to know than the devil you do.” Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #13 on Dec 3, 2003, 10:29am » She couldn’t help but laugh at that and shook her head again. “Why should I trust you?” “If I wanted you dead, Red, I could have killed you already. Unlike Max, I know what you are, I know who you are and I know what you do.” He had that smile again, the sure almost smug smile that was his trademark. If Whisper City was a sea, then Nick Winter was that shark in the ocean. “Trust me, my interest in you is on a business level.” “Oh?” She almost kicked herself for how that sounded, for a start it had an almost disappointed edge to it, the Fae caught it and laughed again. “Well, that’s not entirely true. But first things first, you own and operate Sundown records…part of your monies you donate to various charities and to research into your condition.” “We have done our homework.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm and she folded her arms. “Condition, you make it sound so clinical…” “Alright, let’s be blunt then.” “Lets.” “You are a Nightcrawler, Vampire, you name it…but you are trying to find a substitute for human blood, a humane answer unlike Max who created Whisper as a giant Cattle Shed.” He lit a Black Russian and drew in a few breaths from it, letting the smoke out through the Diablo’s window. “How the hell do you know all of this?” She rounded on him now and gave him a stare that could freeze water. “Nicholas Winter, Red, that’s how I know – I’m old, too old to play games but I do, and most of them involve keeping one step ahead of Max and playing him for a fool. Now we can argue and accuse all you like, until the sun comes up and you suffer lethargy.” The smoke curled again. “Or we can put our hands in each others, partner up and find out exactly why Max wants you a greasy smear on the nearest sidewalk?” The sudden change in his tone and the way he took charge caused Red to slam her mouth shut on another retort and bite her tongue. He was given another look, a serious studious overview and then the ice melted a little as his words actually sank in. “Forgive me Nick, when you’re in my position, you don’t trust easily.” She offered a slight apology. “There’s nothing to forgive honestly, I fully understand, because when you’re in my position, you don’t make friends or offers like this easily either.” He tipped a wink to her and the car began to slow, only a few more miles to her townhouse. The rain continued to pour, but it wasn’t as harsh as before. “You are a rare one it seems.” She tried to relax again, but the whole night, the minor argument had forced her to tense right up. “I like to think that like you, I am fairly unique, rare and dashing as well.” The Diablo was running with a deep throaty roar, a sleek panther like shape hurtling down the backroads now. “I would go with that assessment, and a killer dress sense too.” She added. “More than you would know Red, more than you would know.” He quipped, tipping yet another wink her direction, flicking the spent cigarette out of the window in a trail of sparks. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Trinity Guest Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #14 on Dec 3, 2003, 9:09pm » Quote: This is just beautiful. Your phrasing and dialogue are so well paced. For the time I was reading, I was there, and when I finished I was left with that slight disorientation you get when you've let the real world go and then have to return to it because there are no more words to keep you there. More please! So true, Libby! Today, I was reading Wyrden on my lunch break. While returning to work, I continued to read Wyrden as I walked back to work because I couldn't put it down, wanting to fit in as much as I could before getting back to my office, and lo and behold, I walked right into a wall...seriously. So, Wolfy...the hospital bills cost...JUST KIDDING, of course, but couldn't resist. Wolfy, I find it wonderful that you are so prolific. My question before was due to the fact that I would love to write more often, but just can't find the time. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #15 on Dec 4, 2003, 6:17am » Even if it's just a page or two a day Trin, it mounts up. So you should write more, and the more you do write, the better you do become. You should share your talent with the EQ folks, even if it's just a few short snippets of your work. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Libby Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Life is a rollercoaster, just gotta ride it! Joined: Nov 2003 Gender: Female Posts: 3,138 Location: England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #16 on Dec 4, 2003, 7:18am » This is getting better by the sentence! Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged ] Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #17 on Dec 4, 2003, 7:32am » Heh, don't forget to stop by House of Cards as well, I'm going to try and update both each day, or thereabouts. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Libby Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Life is a rollercoaster, just gotta ride it! Joined: Nov 2003 Gender: Female Posts: 3,138 Location: England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #18 on Dec 4, 2003, 7:59am » [quote author=Trinity link=board=EC10&thread=1070361488&start=14#0 date=1070503757] So true, Libby! Today, I was reading Wyrden on my lunch break. While returning to work, I continued to read Wyrden as I walked back to work because I couldn't put it down, wanting to fit in as much as I could before getting back to my office, and lo and behold, I walked right into a wall...seriously. Following what you said, I downloaded the .pdf and read Wyrden, too. I actually shied away from Fantasy a few years back, it was becoming full of repetitive twaddle. Wyrden is right back on track (s'pose I should be saying this to the Wolf) and I think if I'd been near a wall I might have walked into a wall too! Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged ] Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #19 on Dec 4, 2003, 10:51am » Heh @ Trin and Libby. That's one I will be continuing as well, though I tend to do a much larger update for that story since it's a pdf. Memories continues though... Red’s townhouse was a large three-storey building that sat way back in acres of manufactured forest; the real trees had pretty much died a death years ago. These were bio-engineered and they not only gave off Oxygen but also had advanced immune systems and required very little from their environment. The night was a perfect shroud as well, a sliver of the moon gave the whole area a white-washed look as the car glided up a long gravel path to rest near the front door. “You certainly know how to live.” Winter remarked casually. “For one of the unliving.” As she opened the door of the vehicle, Red slid one long leg out followed by the other. “Appearances Mr. Winter, one must keep them up.” Ever the gentleman, Nick was standing there offering her his hand, she hesitated for only a moment before she decided to trust him, and took it. She was swept up and out of the doorway as the Fae clicked a small remote, a soft hiss and the door whispered closed. “Very gallant.” She trailed a finger under his chin and left his grasp to stalk towards the door of the building, he followed, long black coat parting as he moved – like a pair of flitting bat’s wings, the light cast shadows across him making the man seem even more otherworldly. “One must keep up appearances.” He echoed the woman’s earlier words and put both hands into the pockets of his coat, he’d left his hat in the car, but here he didn’t need to really hide who he was. Inside the building was just as impressive as the outside; it was carpeted and packed with fine art and statues. The inner hall resembled a Tudor style mansion more than a townhouse and Nick appreciated the statuary, especially the Romanesque style white marble depictions of various male and female figures engaged in the finer arts. Her boots now echoed on the black and white flooring, soft ticking sounds across the stone until she reached the carpet, where they trailed off into almost gentle breaths of sound. “So Nick, if you want to wait in the study…I can slip into something worthy of dinner with you?” A pause while she put her hand on the banister. “That’s if the offer’s still open?” The tall man chuckled softly and gave a flourishing bow, swirling his hand for a moment. “Of course it is, a bargain offered, a hand taken…is a bargain made but not yet sealed in stone.” His eyes held hers a moment, a universe of opportunity stretching into them, the colour was all colours and none. “I…” She faltered in those eyes, and her smile slipped a fraction, only to be replaced by a thoughtful pout. “The answer is yes, the offer is still open.” He relented, the Unseelie side of him reigned in for a moment, the serious expression returning. “But only if you truly want, for that is the key to the greatest lock of all – truly want.” “You’re speaking like one of your kind, Mr. Winter.” She gently chided and began to make her way up the stairs. “I need to take a shower, wash some blood off from earlier and definitely find a dress to match.” He watched her go, noting the sleek lines and the shape, her form and motion. She had a predator’s gait about her; the stalk was of a she-cat on the hunt. He couldn’t help think that soon he might be the prey, but Winter wasn’t a prey animal at all, he didn’t give off those signals and he knew that Red loved that kind of thing. Each movement she made was designed in part to keep her the centre of attention; it was only at the top of the stairs that she relaxed a little, almost fretful. Could she trust him? He’d had ample opportunity to do anything he wanted, he could have killed her easily. What was his angle? Did he have one? Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #20 on Dec 4, 2003, 10:52am » All these questions and more ran like circus wheels through her head as she undressed and stepped into the shower, the water soon washed the smell of her earlier kill and the stain away. It swirled into the steady stream like crimson rain, her hands resting on the wall for a moment, long nails as red as the slowly draining ichor. “I’d like to trust him.” She said to the water, it gurgled in response as she now pirouetted around behind the safety of the frosted glass. “He’s handsome and he’s powerful, and you’ve spent what? Eternity dodging guys like bullets.” She continued these thoughts as the water, that false warm rain, trickled down her skin and over her body. Downstairs however, Winter was suddenly aware that something was slightly wrong, his long ears for instance picked a heavy grinding noise up. It sounded like a truck of some kind, or a large van. He moved in a whisper of shadow to the nearest window, just in time to see the headlights die and the vehicle roll into the edge of the woods. Men left that truck, men heavily armed and armoured, and they were carrying modified assault rifles and covered from head to toe in heavy flak vests, pants and suits. That kind of firepower and that kind of operative didn’t come cheap. He counted twelve all told, moving with a singular purpose, with a protracted military gait about them. She was still in the shower, the water rushing drowning out all the other sounds. So she didn’t hear the Fae come running up the stairs like a bat out of hell, and kick open the door to her room. But a swift tap of his finger on the glass soon broke her reverie; she turned around and blinked water out of her eyes. “I wondered how long it would take you to pluck up the courage Mr. Winter.” The huntress was back on full form, she put her hands on her hips. “So are you going to join me, or not?” “As much as that offer appeals Red, we have a serious problem.” Something in his voice wasn’t right, she picked up on it straight away. “What?” “Twelve heavily armed mercenaries, no doubt hired by our mutual pain the rear – Max, target, one naked provocative Vampire in her shower. They’re packing white-phosphor rounds and typical Nightcrawler termination equipment.” He tapped the glass again. “So as much as I would relish the chance to join you in that shower, you need to get out, get dressed and.” The sound of a back window breaking caused him to stop. “Damn, they’re in. Look, you get ready and I.” “You? What?” Her eyes shimmered a blood red glow and her hand tightened on the tap, as she closed it off. “And I shall welcome them to your home, in the style of my choosing. You’re insured right?” “Not for an act of God, Fae or mass destruction…but try not to turn my home into a charnel house?” She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, adding. “Oh and Nick?” “Yes?” He was already sweeping towards the door, coat flapping again. “Try not to get yourself terminated?” “Last thing on my mind.” And he was gone, running to the edge of the stairs just as the lights went out. “Cute, I wonder if Max actually told them what they were up against…anyone would think he wanted to give our Red an advantage.” His own eyes were at home in the night, in the shadows and darkness, he was one of the things that didn’t just go bump in the night. He went, shake…rattle and roll…too… « Last Edit: Dec 4, 2003, 10:56am by Witcher Wolf » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Trinity Guest Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #21 on Dec 4, 2003, 9:17pm » Quote: [quote author=Trinity link=board=EC10&thread=1070361488&start=14#0 date=1070503757] Following what you said, I downloaded the .pdf and read Wyrden, too. I actually shied away from Fantasy a few years back, it was becoming full of repetitive twaddle. Wyrden is right back on track (s'pose I should be saying this to the Wolf) and I think if I'd been near a wall I might have walked into a wall too! Isn't Wyrden great?! I hope Wolfy does turn it into a novel. Yeah, I was rounding a corner of our building and trying to read Wyrden and was so into the writing that I cut the corner too close, and banged my shoulder into it. Oh, well. Clumsy me. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Trinity Guest Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #22 on Dec 4, 2003, 9:21pm » Quote: Even if it's just a page or two a day Trin, it mounts up. So you should write more, and the more you do write, the better you do become. Thanks, Wolfy. The thing for me is that I must be inspired to write. If I am not, the flow is not there. Every Saturday and Sunday morning, I get up early and take three hours to write, because I just can't seem to find the time otherwise to do so. I have been working on my second novel since last June. It's a monster...almost 100,000 words...I should have it finished, rewritten and polished by summer of 2004. I'm happy with it, but want to get back to the darkness and write about vampires again. So, that's what I'm working diligently on now. I admire you that you can switch between your stories and keep everything consistent...not an easy task. Quote: You should share your talent with the EQ folks, even if it's just a few short snippets of your work. Bless you for saying that. I'd like to. Do you think some of my first novel which I shared with you would be a good choice? Do you have a favorite part of the excerpt I sent? « Last Edit: Dec 4, 2003, 9:21pm by Trinity » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #23 on Dec 5, 2003, 5:49am » I think what you should do is put up the first part, like I do, and then see what people think. We can be our own worst critics I know. Oddly House, Wyrden and Memories are three of my writings that I'm truly happy with. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Trinity Guest Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #24 on Dec 6, 2003, 10:27pm » Quote: I think what you should do is put up the first part, like I do, and then see what people think. We can be our own worst critics I know. Yeah. I'm gonna post some of my work here soon. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #25 on Dec 8, 2003, 9:00am » Memories - continues... There are two things in any life you have to know and when you’re dealing with a creature that comes from a reality that’s three steps to the side of your own, you make sure you know them, or you’re dead. One, the rules that apply to you don’t apply to them, they’re often good at skirting the laws that you were taught as a child. Two, no matter how well trained in the covert arts you are, how much technical know-how and special equipment you have, nothing will save you if you don’t know what you’re dealing with. Ergo the hit-team hired by Max to eliminate Red, they were twelve in number and all highly trained, ex-police or military covert operations. What they weren’t expecting was the unknown factor, how could they in all honesty have known that Red wasn’t just an ordinary woman and her tall companion was about to show them a true game of ‘cat and mouse’ where the stakes were their own lives. They cut the power, the lights in the house went dead, flickering out and casting the whole townhouse into dark shadowy relief. They cut the phone line, not as though Red was thinking of calling for the cops, she was busy wriggling into a new set of clothes and already on the table in front of her lay a .50 Desert Eagle. They divided into two groups of six each, classic tactics, sweep and clear mentality. Equipped with night-vision goggles and heartbeat sensors. Team one and team two, a perfect tactical machine, moving through the dark interiors, hunting for a sign of life. They had the traditional H&K Mp5 machine guns, the SD variety – suppressed. Occasionally they would flick on a maglight, sweep an arc in the room, hollow echoes of their own breath rasping behind the gas masks they wore. Boots making hardly a sound, hardly a sound that a pair of mortal ears would pick up of course. But Mr. Winter wasn’t mortal, and he could see perfectly well in the pitch black as though it were daylight. The gift of his dreamlands born kind, and unlike the flowers and petals of the Seelie, he drew from the moonlight and shadows of the Unseelie. So each of them could be seen, while they could not detect him, the magic he had woven around them blinded their equipment to him on an audio and visual level. The question that hovered on the lips of the Universe was, just how should he deal with these interlopers? The Fae was very much like a big cat, playing with his food before devouring it, and he stepped out of his hiding place purposely knocking a lamp off the table. It smashed to the floor, falling almost in slow motion to spread broken pottery across the carpet. A maglight flicked on and he was outlined in a white circle for a few moments. “Take him out!” The whisper of three weapons discharged his direction, he could hear the fingers before they tightened on the triggers, he could define the individual sounds of each bullet and spent cartridge as they flew from the side of the guns, landing with a soft ‘tinkle’ of brass upon the floor, tables and other surfaces. A pale hand stretched forth as if in a lazy wave and the very nature of the world rippled about the Fae, the shadows thickened and seemed to draw even the light from the first teams’ torches into it. But what they did see was a stream of lead slow as if it were passing through molasses, thick treacle like motion until one by one – each bullet burst into a bright incandescent flame, like a dying ember from a fire, vanishing with a wisp of grey smoke. “What the fuck?” There was only one way to deal with these men, Nicholas had decided, and from beneath his long coat, shimmering in the maglight beams came a sliver of silver metal. An elegant blade, the kind you would expect from a man like the Fae, it was a balanced weapon and deadly. More gunfire spat towards him, again his mastery of the rules of reality and the very nature of our world manifested, this time the bullets were cut out of the air, swatted like a horde of angry hornets – sparks blinking into the darkness. He reached his first target; silver lines fell in glittering swathes and arcs. Blood spraying from the chest, neck and shoulder of the target, in pressurised spatters, none of it landed on the Fae. No more time was wasted on these; Nicholas Winter was a deadly ballet of movement now, going from one opponent to the next in vicious efficiency. The Katana he used was red with the spilt blood, and it grew redder by the second. Simple strikes and complex slices were employed with one a single breath taken between blows. Five men dwindled down to just one, the leader of the first team, now a stand off between the two men. Nick’s sword drew a line of blood down the face of his aggressor; it was a feather light swish of the sharp steel, but enough to neatly part the skin. The man ripped off the gas mask and threw it angrily down to the side. His combat knife removed and set into a reverse grip, so the blade pointed down towards his elbow – Seal training perhaps. He made a couple of lunging stabs towards the Fae, who sidestepped and cracked him on the side of the head with the back edge of the katana blade. The man’s ears rang like a few hundred bells had just been set off inside the cathedral of his skull. The sword snapped to the side with a whipping crack and a line of blood swished down off it. “What now before you is left man, but to surrender to oblivions last embrace?” Nick’s words were cold, emotionless and directed to his assailant. “What the hell are you?” The Fae was being circled, studied for a weak point, all the combat training coming to the fore. “Hell? Has nothing to do with it, I am the dawn and the sun, the night and the moon. I am everything and yet – I am nothing. I am death’s lover, brother, sister, father, mother – he of the eternal solstice and the bite of winter’s chill touch.” The Katana’s gleam circled, and in the glint of his adversary’s eyes he caught the motion behind him. While fighting the first team, the second had been slowly working its way to where he was…thinking themselves unheard in all the gunfire and commotion. He was at the fatal fulcrum of a perfect semi circle of weapons, their fingers poised to fire upon command it seemed. No matter, he would have his revel with this fellow and conclude his business in due course and order with the man’s companions. Neatly and cleanly, he hoped. “Yeah, well, you know what else you are?” The soldier threw the knife, that was the signal for him to dive, except that his legs wouldn’t work…they wouldn’t move, it was as though they were stuck in one place – his eyes met those of the Fae only to watch him jump up and back as the deadly cackle of team two’s weapons resounded in the room. It was a perfect timed backwards leap, the Fae gently turning as he moved. Team one’s leader was peppered before the other team could accurately respond to what had happened, hundreds of bullets ripped into him like a deadly rain. His body danced to the beat of the expended rounds, jerking like some deranged marionette on wires, his arms flailed and his armour didn’t stop the small pockmarked sores of red from appearing like budding roses over him. As the guns stilled the shadow landed before the men in an over-exaggerated sweeping bow, his right arm crossing from left to right in a flash, his coat falling closed as he stood up and turned presenting his back to them. One by one they dropped their weapons and struggled to breathe – the blood gushing between their fingers mirrored that which slowly rolled down Nick’s blade, the only indication that anything was wrong, and like a set of bowling pins they toppled over – leaving him alone in the dark. « Last Edit: Dec 8, 2003, 9:02am by Witcher Wolf » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #26 on Dec 10, 2003, 9:04am » “Holy shit.” The Fae turned slowly at the sound of his companion’s voice, a thin-lipped smile dancing for a moment as mirthfully he replied. “There was naught Holy, about that.” “Tell me about it, remind me, never – ever to piss you off Nick.” She threw that little aside in, with more than a hint of sincerity. “This is going to take some time to clean up, but you say that Max sent them?” Winter gave a single nod and slipped the sword back under his coat, there was a momentary flicker as his shape rippled against reality; again his slender ears picked a muffled whispering noise out against the rest of the audio. “However.” There was a sigh and he turned to walk away, Red caught his arm and shook her head, eyes gleaming. “Not this time Nick, this one’s mine.” The Fae was fond of audacity and the woman’s attitude reeked of it, he turned to face her and gave a pointed smile. “I was thinking perhaps, this time, we might enjoy a duet?” “I was trying to get to that, but these bastards interrupted.” She replied with a mock frown and then once more her eyes glittered. “Oh you mean, deal with them…together?” “Precisely.” The slick killer drew a pair of custom pistols from under his coat this time. “If you feel like pooling talents?” “I thought you’d never ask.” Her grin was cat-like, and after watching how ruthlessly her companion dispatched the first two teams, she was starting to regret not being there – that part of her lusted for more than action between silken covers. Teams three and four were airborne, hidden inside the belly of a massive metal monster, based on the old blueprints of a Russian made Hind helicopter, this had been extensively modified by the mercenary group. Not as though that particular piece of mil-spec hardware needed much changed. They had added thicker and stronger armour, a better and more powerful engine to compensate for the weight and enough weapons to stop an army. The whisper growl of the engine as the blades tore the air apart guttered through the night, the sleek dark grey shape against the roiling clouds and moonlight, looked like some demented monster from deep within another nightmare. A single eye illuminated the courtyard of the woman’s townhouse, sweeping a halo of bright actinic light across the ground, alighting upon the Fae’s vehicle and the hit-teams van. The occupants did not notice the two shadows upon the roof however, that moved across the tiles as though they were always meant to be above the rest of humanity. The dark otherworldly being and his partner, Red…who was now poured into a sleek dark blue jump-suit, the kind of thing perfect for what she was going to do. “Nick?” She whispered as the man moved swiftly from shadow to shadow. “Yes my dear?” Came the impeccable reply, twin custom pistols resting in the grasp of slender hands and fingers. “Am I really that much of a pain?” That cat-like grin was back again; she was of course enjoying all of this, far more than she did the sitting around waiting for customers and contracts to be signed. The shadow laughed a little and gave her a swift nod. “Of course you are, but that’s one of the reasons, I find you utterly enchanting…now shall we, introduce ourselves?” Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #27 on Dec 10, 2003, 9:05am » “Let’s dance.” She sprang to her feet and began to run towards the highest peak of the roof, just as the Hind swung around. “Cover me!” The two pistols were already tracking slightly ahead of her, the Fae judging distance and timing, a few moments later the white-eye of the Hind’s searchlight was shattered into a dozen pieces and went out in a sparking blaze of glory. Red kept running forwards, she could feel the wind as each bullet went past her. She had never trusted anyone like this ever, and oddly enough in the midst of such a battle – it felt surprisingly good. Her target was just in range and she lowered her head as she ran, return fire was coming in from the mounted pods either side of the chopper’s cockpit. But she didn’t care, the exhilaration and adrenaline combined to create a powerful drug indeed. Her foot reached the edge of the roof and she pushed hard, cracking the tiles a little. Her enhanced non-human strength, speed, agility all combined to send her high and up out of the line of fire. Nick watched all of this with a slight chuckle and sent some more bursts of gunfire into the copter’s cockpit, the glass was bullet-proof however so all it did was smear it a little. The Fae gave a wicked grin and slid one of his weapons back into the hidden holster. What happened next, happened so fast that it caught the occupants inside the Hind by total surprise, they watched the woman run at them and then it was just like she’d vanished. They were trying to sight on her shadowy companion when the pilot caught sight of him standing there as bold as brass – holding a pair of pistols, the gunfire peppering their vehicle’s glass. “Stupid dumbfuck? Who’s he think he is, a friggen superhero?” “Might I remind you?” Replied the gunner from his vantage point. “A woman just leapt up and off that building, you don’t think that’s just a tiny bit odd?” “Stow the chatter gentlemen, let’s just proceed with the plan…if you have to take the fucker out with missiles – do it.” The voice of command was rough; it belonged to a swarthy man in Kevlar armour and a headset. “At best, she fell and broke her neck, at worst she can fly.” He cut the headset and looked at the other teams in the back of the chopper. She’d gone up, she couldn’t fly, and that was superstition and fakery concocted by peasants in her old village. Red however had a unique ability – much like those older creatures that humanity had labelled Vampires; she was capable of perceiving things in an almost slow-motion state – her target was one of the blades of the Hind, and she timed it perfectly, just enough of a touch to send her upwards and over the top of it. The Fae watched this and gave her a salute with his single gun, the lines of a devious trick etched upon his angular face. “If you can’t beat them – cheat.” He intoned, and blew upon the barrel for a moment. This all happened at the same time, the all clear was given for the two teams to disembark the Hind, they did so on zip-lines. Each man was one of the best, two teams of three killers a-piece and at their head the merc’s leader, Carlson Ames. They disgorged from the chopper like a finely tuned machine, hitting the ground and finding cover. Red flipped off the blade and shot upwards, the .50 Desert Eagle dropping into her palm, the rain of revenge began as she took carefully placed shots at the centre of the vehicle’s rotors, the clamour of the Eagle drowned out by the whirring of the rotors. The Gunner of the hit-teams Hind depressed the trigger of the nose mounted Chaingun; he’d had enough of the sleek shadow on the roof. Perfect timing for Nick however, as the trail of rounds roared from the circular barrels he started to run, right into the stream. Reality took a side step, once more, dancing off to waltz with the son of the night and the daughter of the moon. It was the Fae’s time to act, one foot up and another followed, until the disbelieving men saw him run along the flow of silvering rounds. Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Witcher Wolf Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline Monster hunter for hire. Will work for Orens! Joined: Oct 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 4,772 Location: UK - England Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #28 on Dec 10, 2003, 9:06am » Until they saw it, they would have requested anyone who explained it, be transferred to a mental institution for being unbalanced. But here he was, like a dragon in flight, running up the line, an impossible feat for a creature that dwelt once in an impossible world. Ironically this macabre wonder would be the last thing they ever saw as the Fae killer opened fire, just two shots against the glass, but this time the expended ammunition was cooking with a tiny surprise, the breath against the barrel was a spell – a combustion spell, as the Chaingun died so too did the pilot and gunner in a rain of explosive fire. The glass from the cockpit shattering into a spider-like pattern before it blew outwards leaving the dark shadow standing for a moment on nothing, he dropped fast towards the ground, but the laws of physics were naught but a distraction to him and a prison to those who dwelt solely upon the mortal plane. As for Red…at the same time she was high in the air, the slender Nightcrawler put more shots into the rotor, it couldn’t stand up to the barrage and there was a terrible grinding sound of suddenly wrecked metal. Joints and holding pins severed, the blades went off in their separate ways – flying across the night sky like deadly darts, one of them went through the chimney of her home and remained there, vibrating with the impact. The bulk of the helicopter went directly towards the ground, coming down with a jarring impact and causing a ball of fire to expand into the courtyard. The Fae looked up to see the plummet and rolled backwards out of the crash zone, heading for cover with a whisper of shadow once more. The dark grey shape blossomed into red and orange like a budding flower, sending waves of heat and molten metal out in all directions. Team three were taken by surprise as it hit, so mesmerised they were peppered by shrapnel and slain to the last man, only Team four remained and they just made it out of the impact zone with their skin intact. She hit the mess of metal dead centre and the plating that was intact, buckled, for a few moments she stood outlined in the blaze…red hair unkempt and whirling about her from the expanding superheated air. Blazing red eyes locked onto the three remaining men and she hopped down the wreckage furiously moving from piece to piece, hurling a shattered part of it aside as though it were made of balsa wood. “You know they’re packing quite a punch Red.” Nick tossed in his aside as he rose from his cover, to slide the pistol away. “Nick, I don’t care.” She growled and made it to the ground. “I’m going to tear them apart with my bare hands.” The woman advanced on them with a fury in her step, they were looking to their leader for orders – he took aim with a special pistol. “You seem to have a few advantages we don’t.” He coughed a little and flexed his finger on the trigger. “But I’m glad I trusted my gut enough to believe Max when he concocted what we thought, was a story to sweeten the hunt.” She was hit three times; her guard due to her fury was down. The rounds were highly dangerous to her kind; they caused a reaction to something in the Crawler’s blood. Scientists had been working overtime on them, two shots to the shoulder and one to the right leg; he was playing with her now. The dark shadow turned and snapped out a snarled. “No!” “You are going to pay, for the deaths of my men…each and every one.” He shot her again, in the other leg. She was on the ground now, blood pouring from the wounds. “And then I’m going to do the same to your friend.” Winter had no choice, so he stepped into one shadow and found himself appearing through the leader’s own, right into the path of a headshot that would have sent the woman to meet her maker... Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Ashes: my EQ Fiction The Chronicles of Wyrden: Webcomic Cleric smith Grammaton Cleric First Class member is offline me against the world Joined: Aug 2003 Gender: Male Posts: 892 Location: south london Re: Memories (Fiction) « Reply #29 on Dec 10, 2003, 12:45pm » Quote: Yeah. I'm gonna post some of my work here soon. looking forward to reading it Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged Page 1 of 3 » Jump to page   Go     Forum Jump--------------------» Home--------------------» ----------------------------------------» Resistance Forums--------------------- Resistance Discussions- Freedom Reading Room- Gun Kata- EC-10 Sense Offenses--------------------» Equilibrium MOD: Hall of Mirrors--------------------- Equilibrium MOD & Gamers Forum- Hall of Mirrors Project (Private)- MOD Testing (Private)--------------------» The Nethers (off-topic forums)--------------------- Nethers Pub- One Man's Vision --- UltraViolet- Cleric Bale Bonding- Evidentiary Reports- Hall of Destruction--------------------» Archive--------------------- Archive- Project EQ (currently shut down)