Cafe Kong Forums

The forums of the Cafe Kong chatroom of Kongregate.
 
HomeHome  FAQFAQ  SearchSearch  MemberlistMemberlist  UsergroupsUsergroups  RegisterRegister  Log inLog in  

Share | 
 

 [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story

View previous topic View next topic Go down 
AuthorMessage
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Fri 07 Nov 2008, 12:49 pm

As a spin-off from the Words, words, words... thread, I present for your reading pleasure (or perhaps pain) a short story work-in-progress...

Angel

Part One


The end of summer.

The buildings of P.S. 1145 form three looming walls. cliff faces full of blank windows, devoid of character and life. The commons yard below is an island of hidden order amidst the chaos of the greater city. Here small groups of students cluster in cliques. From the outside they appear so similar, these little tribes. Dressed in uniforms, it is hard to spot the tiny rebellions of individuality. From the inside, the students know almost instinctively how the hierarchy works. The noise here drowns out the sounds of the city; myriad sounds of laughter, talking, cat calls and taunts, the occasional crackled announcement over the P.A. system. A fourth wall, more attractive than the others, forms the final border. A tall hedge from which rises a taller fence, pierced by an old fashioned gate-house.

But that's all at first glance. There is more here than meets the eye at first. The uniformed staff at the gate-house wear automatic pistols on their hips. The fashionable sports cars on the street outside hold undercover guards in all too stereotypical dark suits and sunglasses. The fence is topped with concertina wire. All the uniformed students are just a touch too attractive, too perfect. Artificial almost.

Except . . .

One student stands out. A washed out image amongst the vibrancy. Pale skin, stark white hair hiding dark shining eyes. He slouches, head down and shoulders up, as he moves across the commons from the gate-house to the center building. No one speaks to him, no one spares him a second glance or even a first in most cases. As he climbs the stairs to the front doors, he stops to hoist his shoulder pack a little higher and looks back over his shoulder across the yard. He is a ghost moving through the waking world and his isolation tears at his heart.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Angel, Part One, Opening (continued)   Fri 07 Nov 2008, 12:50 pm

He moved through the halls of P.S. 1145 without much effort. No one seemed to notice him which meant that no one stopped to talk to him, to discuss the latest quiz in Ms. Hernandez biology class, to go over the current gossip about April Sommers end of summer bash, or even to just be seen.

It wasn't that no one knew him. When he'd been a new student last year, transfering in part way through October, there'd been the usual buzz of excitement. However, that had died off pretty quickly as the student body found out that there seemed to be little he had to offer. He wasn't big on sports. He enjoyed soccer, but there were other students who were far better. He was a ward of the state, living in a near-by facility, and while his comings and going weren't strictly monitored, there was little chance of him hosting large parties while rich parents were away. He did manage to excel academically, but this was mostly a by-product of his having so much free time to study than it was any innate skill or genius. His pale hair and skin did make him stand out from the crowd, but with little else to back it up, it soon became more of a liability than an asset. So, he passed his days seemingly surrounded by a bubble of disinterest and apathy.

But that was about to change.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Angel, Part Two, Chrysalis   Fri 07 Nov 2008, 12:57 pm

He sat at the back of his first period classroom - Mr. Carlito's Civics class - largely ignored as always. There were a couple of half-hearted attempts at jokes aimed at him when other targets failed to get the rise expected out of them. He watched the social circles spin and whirl through their intricate dance of drama and dreams. A flock of girls, cheerleaders and the elite, clustered near the windows; a pack of laughing boys, all lean muscle and too white teeth, sitting ot the top of desks and leaning against the chalkboard; small migratory groups of students moved between them, vying for space in the social hierarchy.

When Mr. Carlito came in and called the class to order, the students took their seats with all the speed owed to a favored teacher. "Welcome back, everyone," he said. "We're going to start off with a matter of some public debate. Paranormals and the mayfly syndrome." More than a few students sat up straighter, interest suddenly peaking. Mr. Carlito picked up a remote and, as a monitor descended from the ceiling, he moved to dim the lights in the room. "All of you are certainly aware that we share our world with strange anomalies: they are called by many names, everything from mutant to metahuman to hero." The monitor came on, flashing through slides of various news-clippings, monster sightings, and superheroes posing. "But two facts remain paramount. First, every single one of them was originally a seemingly normal mortal boy or girl. There is no test, no method that can detect nor induce the phenomenal physiological changes or abilities exhibited by the paranormals. Tests conducted on paranormals after their emergence show that they have changed; not only at a cellular level, but down to their very DNA. How this is possible . . . we don't yet know." The slides started coming slower, now showing close-ups, portait faces of various individuals, most of them easily replaceable with faces that roamed the halls of P.S. 1145. "What has only become apparent in recent years however is a condition termed the mayfly syndrome. The unwitting cost that each paranormal must face, the fate they all share, is a drastically reduced life-span. So far, no paranormal has lived past the age of 25. Which means that the longest lived paranormal is this individual." The screen showed the fairly handsome face of a young man; however, instead of hair, long spines of horn grew from his scalp. The image changed, showing a full-body image. He was muscular, and without his shirt the coarse, bristled hair of his arms and back were evident. "This is the young man the media styled as 'the Porcupine.' Sometimes with praise, sometimes with scorn. But, who this young man is, is really Timothy O'Day." The image on the screen changed to a photo of a young boy, smiling as he sat on a swing, his sandy brown hair tousled by the wind. A series of shots followed, one after another, of mundane things: a shot of the boy running on the beach; the same boy a little older standing outside of a middle school with other young teens; again, older, in a heavy jacket, arms crossed, standing amidst snow and trees. "Timothy manifested his unique physiology over a period of time from the age of 16 to 18. His hair falling out to be replaced by hard, bony quills. His muscle mass increasing. Stamina. Speed. But, by the age of 24, his health began to rapidly deteriorate. He died just two days after his 25th birthday." A shot of a funeral, taken from a distance, in grainy black and white. "He had about seven years of a life most of us can only imagine."

The monitor went black and slowly the lights in the room buzzed back into life. Mr. Carlito stood at the front of the class with a stack of papers that he began to circulate amongst the students. "Mr. O'Day was the oldest, but there are a few paranormals that manifested their powers earlier in life. A young girl in Kansas changed rapidly just after her twelfth birthday and died at the age of twenty-two. What kind of implications are carried here? What can start to deduce about the changes our society is facing?"

The class was silent for a few seconds before someone shouted out, "Supers kick butt" and laughter broke the tension. A girl raised her hand before saying, "Well, if all paras are teenagers, then that means that maybe teens will start getting more respect. You know, because any of them could be the next big superhero." There were nods and murmurs of assent from around the room. Soon a discussion of the benefits of paranormals in society was blossoming, occasionally sobered by the knowledge that every paranormal had a suddenly shortened life span. "Hang on, though," one male student interjected. "I don't really think about life past thirty. I mean, I plan on getting out of here." A few cheers and shouts rose up around him. "And I've got some ideas about college, but after that I've got nothing." A jeering "you've got nothin' all right" was shouted back before Mr. Carlito held up a hand. "This is actually a good point," he looked up at the clock. "Which we will take up later. As you can see from your handouts we have a full schedule. Golding's 'Lord of the Flies' and the old film 'Logan's Run' will be two outside sources that we're going to be using later this week. Everyone jot down some ideas generated from today's discussion on how youth effects society. You will be writing on it later."

By lunch there was considerable buzz about Mr. Carlito's lesson amongst the students. Out in the common yard with the sun lancing down the idea of an early death didn't seem to carry the same weight of fear that it did while enclosed in a classroom, no matter how well lit. Therefore most of the conversations focused a great deal on how individuals would use their powers or what they'd like to be able to do or even what product endorsements they'd seek out once they had a business manager.

He was sitting on the low wall that seperated the tennis court from the common yard proper, eating an apple, and trying to re-read the section on European history before the test he was sure was going to be today. He vaguely registered someone shouting before an errant ball slammed into the back of his shoulder toppling him from his seat. He pushed himself up slowly from the ground where he had landed and looked back up to his former perch to see a pair of faces peering down at him. "Hey! Give us back the ball, right," shouted one. He reached over for the ball and threw it overhand over the wall, not particualy caring where it went as long as it was away. He was already turn over and dusting himself off when one of the faces over the wall hurled down a venomous "jerk." He thought he may have heard some choice questions about his mother and her sexual habits as the faces disappeared.

Then he noticed. Around him on the ground were several downy feathers. He looked at his hands. Aside from a few scrapes, there was nothing there. He reached up to where the side of his face had struck the pavement. When he ran his hands through his hair another of the wispy white feathers drifted to the ground. He caught it in his hand, and looked up into the sun, wondering where it could have come from.

He grabbed his bag of books and slung them up onto his shoulder. When they hit his back a sharp pain lanced across his shoulders. He grunted. It was just his luck. The ball that hit him, or maybe the fall off the wall... he'd scraped something he was sure. He could feel a warm dampness on his back that definately did not feel like sweat. He started towards the gym building to get a change of clothes and a shower if he needed it.

Standing in the shower fifteen minutes later, he winced as the hot water struck his back. He tried to get a glimpse off of the reflective fixtures, but they were too steamed for him to get a good look. He didn't see the bright red of fresh blood, though, so he thought that things were probably fine. However when he went to dry off he had to re-think things. Rubbing the towel across his back caused him to cry out in pain at the sudden shock. He stumbled over to the mirrors along one wall, twisting his back to try to see clearly.

Faintly visible in the reflection were what appeared to be a pair of wings. However they didn't seem to be directly attached to his skin. He could flex his shoulders and watch them move, but reaching back with a hand encountered nothing. And their appearance seemed to be almost translucent, visible more by their absence, like looking through incredibly clear glass and noticing only the faint distortion of light. He moved in front of the mirrors, turning and twisting and posing, and as he did so it seemed that the wings were growing larger as he flexed them. It was only the shrill buzz of the bell that snapped him back to awareness. He dashed to grab clothes and his bag before students started pouring in.

And then it hit him. How would he hide this? Could he even get a shirt on? He grabbed his belongings and ducked into a stall as he heard voices coming in the door on the opposite side of the locker room. He did all the easy stuff first, wanting to put off trying on his clean shirt until the last minute. He pulled a tee-shirt on over his arms, took a deep breath, and then pulled it over his head. As it dropped down his back there was no pain, no obstruction. He sighed heavily and grabbed his dress shirt. The uniform felt tighter, constricting, confining. He tugged open the door and, taking another deep breath to brace himself, stepped out. In the mirror opposite, he looked completely normal. No ghostly translucent wings at all. He stood there, stunned, staring.

Until a senior soccer player bumped him out of the way. And then the bell buzzed again. He cursed under his breath and dashed across the locker room, weaving in and out between students. He was going to be late for History, he just knew it.

Even though he ran all the way from the gym across the courtyard and up the main staircase in Primary Hall, he wasn't breathing hard when he got to the door of his classroom. He managed to slip in the door and make it to his seat just as the final bell was going off. The girl in the desk in front of his turned around to stare at him as he sat down. 'Probably because I'm always here early,' he thought. He stared back, shrugged. She turned back around only when the teacher began his lecture. He didn't listen too closely. He sat at his desk fidgeting, rolling his shoulders, flexing his arms, trying to peer out of the corners of his eyes to see if he could see them again.

As soon as class was over, he grabbed his books and headed for the stairs again. He made his way against the tide of students until he reached the top floor, then worked his way down to patio that gave access to the roof. Sometimes the school had astronomy lessons there, or class activities, but he hoped it would be clear today.

From the patio, he took the stairs to the roof two at a time. From the roof he had a clear view of the other two buildings as well as much of the city stretching away towards the harbor in the west. He dropped his bag by the top of the stairs and strode confidently towards the middle of the roof. He stood and tried flexing his shoulders, waving his arms. Nothing. Nothing he did worked. He couldn't see them, couldn't force them to appear. He could still feel a vague tightness to his clothing, but couldn't see anything. Frustrated, half afraid he was going crazy, he tugged his dress shirt off, balled it up, and threw it at his bag. Annoyed at the tightness and discomfort of his undershirt, it soon followed.

Then he saw them. A shaft of sunlight made them suddenly sharp and visible. A pair of huge wings that fanned out from his back and shoulders, pinions of translucent white and silver that seemed to stretch and unfurl to an impossible length. Light reflected and refracted through them, casting shimmering reflections all across the roof-top. He almost shouted as a feeling of exultation rushed through him.

Then it hit him. Wings. Paranormal. Mayfly syndrome. His seventeenth birthday was two weeks away. He wouldn't live past twenty-five.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Angel, Part Three, Emergence   Tue 11 Nov 2008, 11:48 am

Dugan stood on the rooftop, feeling the wind move through the pinions of his wings, and idly thought about throwing himself off the building. If the wings worked, he'd be ok but everyone would know he was a paranormal. If they didn't, well that just hastened his already drastically shortened life-span. He crouched down to pick up his t-shirt when he heard voices from somewhere below. Voices and footsteps. Running. Hurried. He got the tee on and dashed to grab his dress shirt and bag from by the stairs. He whipped his head left and right. There really wasn't anywhere to hide. He panted in fear, and could just barely hear the voices echoing faintly through the hallway below him.

"I swear I saw something on the roof," one said. "Something... I don't know. Bright. Moving." Any response was lost in the pounding of feet on the linoleum floors.

Dugan heaved himself back up to his feet. He recalled that some seniors last year had leapt from the corner of the main building to the one opposite and one floor down as a dare. He wasn't the most athletic of individuals, but he thought that a running jump might make it. He heard the door below start to open and decided he had no choice. He sprang to his feet, sprinting as fast as he could across the roof-top. The wind seemed to scream in his ears and drag tears from the corners of his eyes. As he came to the edge, he sprang first to the wide stone railing and then flung himself with all his strength out into the open air.

He hit the other roof hard, landing badly and scraping his shoulder. Panting heavily, he looked up. He was lying almost in the middle of the roof. It was clearly farther than he'd ever jumped. Farther than he'd ever seen anyone jump. Part of Mr. Carlito's lecture on the paranormals slipped forward in his mind. All of them, every single one, displayed increased strength, speed, and endurance. Some more than others, true, but it was one set of qualities that they all possessed. He could see a group of students streaming up the stairs to the roof in a run, looking around. He scrambled to his feet, scraping his hands in the process, and dashed to the similar set of stairs for this roof. He didn't know why, but he wanted this change to be just his. His secret, his life. For now at least. After all, none of these kids had spent more than ten minutes talking to him after it was apparent that he didn't quite fit in with their social elite. No need to share this either.

Dugan made it through the rest of the day in something of an adrenalin haze. He felt slightly feverish and every sudden noise made him jump. When the last bell rang, he practically flew out of the building, weaving back and forth between students, trying to get to the doors as quickly as he could. Outside the gates, he swiftly began walking down the sidewalk, not waiting for the bus he normally rode. He assumed his absence would go unnoticed, but he was wrong.

In his wake he left people turning their heads to look at him. There was nothing outwardly different about him, except perhaps for a certain disheveled set to his clothing. Otherwise he was the same pale skinned, white haired boy that had been at school with them the previous year. The other students tried to pin down the cause of the sudden re-emergence of Dugan Webber, but by and large the excuses were flimsy and hollow sounding, even to their own ears.



Dugan didn't follow his normal routine. Instead of taking the bus back to home, such as it was, and studying, he instead found himself in a remote corner of a city park, pulling off his shirt. He'd picked a shady spot, overhung with trees, hoping that out of the sun his wings might not provoke the same reaction that they had had on the roof. With effort and practice he discovered that he could fly with the wings, but that gliding was much easier. He spent most of the afternoon in the park, flexing and beating his mighty wings.

It soon became a routine. After school, he'd dash off to the park, find his secluded corner, and practice. As the days turned into weeks, there was a noticable change that came over him as well. He was more confident in class, volunteering answers and ideas. When he sat down for lunch, he found himself the epicenter for a number of small circles of students. Some times they'd ask for his opinion on a class assignments or help with homework. Some times they'd just sit near him, eating, and trying to make conversation. Given that he'd been fairly solitary for so long, and that his daily routine didn't include much in the way of current events, sports, or the social scene such attempts usually ended quite rapidly. However, all of this just seemed to increase the attention he was gradually receiving from the student body. To the others, it seemed as if he'd become regal somehow, and that their attempts at conversation were not being rebuffed, but instead were rather beneath his lofty notice. Those asking for help with classwork seemed awed by his presence and knowledge when they were near him.

He started to chaff under the attention. It wasn't normal. He didn't like it. But he was too polite to push them away. He enjoyed class, but he longed for the last bell so that he could flex his wings and feel truly free.

Five weeks after his discovery in the locker room, Dugan felt that he'd almost mastered his new form. He still had the occasional issue with grabbing things too tightly - he'd crushed several cups, cans, and bottles inadvertantly while getting used to his increasing strength - but otherwise, things were smooth. He even felt pretty confident about his limited and halting attempts at flight even though all of them had been from very low places. There were times when he felt like there was still something building inside of him, some unlocked and untapped potential, but he had no way of figuring out what it might be.

His birthday had come and gone, unremarked. School was starting to settle back into a routine; uncomfortable with the aimless attention, he spent his free period in the corner of the library furthest from the computers where few of the students ventured. Too, Dugan had taken to eating his lunches on the roof or the balcony beneath.

That's where he was on a Tuesday afternoon when the explosion happened. Later on, it would be discovered that a faulty valve had caused one of the flame hoods in the chemistry lab to fill with gas; a chance spark, cause unknown, ignited the gas and the resulting explosion was focused by the partially open hood across the back of a classroom and against the windows. The sudden sound and gout of flame caused a panic in the classroom that the teacher was unable to contain, the shouts and screams quickly inducing a spread of fear in neighboring rooms. As students poured out into the hallways, the initial confusion was further marred by the sprinklers coming on. Absent the fire alarm, some students began to play while others ran for cover. When the windows exploded outwards, the glass rained down onto the commons yard causing a number of injuries and another wave of panic. Students from the yard went surging inside only to be met by a matching press of bodies struggling to get out.

From above, all Dugan could see was the glass raining down, students moving like a strange tide back and forth in the main doors of Building Three. And the screams. He could hear the screams. On a third floor balcony of Building Three, just down from the blackened gaping windows of the destroyed science room, were a pair of freshmen girls. They were huddled together, soaking wet, partially covered in soot. Catching sight of them, Dugan noticed a faint flicker in the room behind them. Flames, slowly but inevitably spreading even against the weight of water from above. Looking quickly around it seemed that no one else had noticed the girls on the balcony; their screams were lost amidst the cacophony from below. While he watched, teachers and security began removing students from the doorway below, but as thick smoke began to boil from the windows and doors of the third floor, the girls on the balcony were lost to view. At first, he tried shouting, waving his arms. Anything to catch someone's attention so that they might see him pointing to the girls on the balcony. But he quickly realized that no one was going to hear him.

Cursing and swearing under his breath, he started tearing at the buttons of his shirt, struggling to get it off as quickly as he could. He kept a hold of his t-shirt, planning on using it to keep the smoke from his face. As the warm air hit his back he could feel them there, phantom-like above his shoulders. He climbed up on the balcony's railing and looked down. It was much much further than he'd ever attempted before. Even his jump from the roof of the main building to building two wasn't quite like this.

He took a deep breath, and jumped.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Angel, Interlude, "Witness"   Mon 08 Dec 2008, 10:29 am

Eireann knew Dugan Webber probably better than anyone else at the school. When he'd arrived at school last year, she'd been too shy to talk to him very much. And as his popularity waned, her interest in him only grew. But as the students pulled away, he seemed to as well. Sometimes she imagined that he was terribly lonely and would welcome her company, that she could draw him from his shell and everyone would see how interesting he really was. She was sure there was some romantic and mysterious story lurking in his past. As students began taking note of him again, she thought that it might finally be her chance to speak to him. She hadn't yet.



When he stopped showing up in the commons yard during lunch, she was nervous. It took her several days to track down where he'd been going. The sight of him sitting alone on the upper balcony of the main building, eating his lunch and staring out over the city made something leap up into her throat. She was torn between approaching him, or running away so that she wouldn't intrude. It took her three more days to finally work up the nerve to decide: she was just going to go and sit near him, join him. If he talked to her, then she'd have no choice but to respond. And if he didn't. Well, at least she would be close enough to watch him.



She was walking down the long hallway on the top floor. There was a breeze coming in the open doors, and she could see him standing near the balcony when she heard the explosion. She hesitated, unsure of what the noise had been. Then the sounds of screams were carried in on air suddenly turned bitter. Her first thought was to turn and run back downstairs, but something made her look up. She saw Dugan, shirtless, climbing onto the balcony's ledge. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing would come out. She was struck, mute and still, standing in the hallway, not believing that she was about to witness him throw himself to his death. She started to turn away, not wanting to see, but she had to do something. She took one step forward. Then another. And another. Soon, she was runnign the remaining length of the hallway. She was almost to the doors when he jumped. A cry tore itself from her throat, burning and breathless. She stumbled at the door, her momentum carrying her to the edge where he had just been standing. Tears were already in her eyes as she tried to make sense of the scene below her.



She could see the students still milling in confused groups down below, teachers and security organizing them into groups, trying to assess injuries, count heads. She saw the smoke flowing from several third floor windows in the neighboring building. And she saw Dugan. Flying. Landing on a balcony. The smoke there was stirred and blown as if by a huge pair of wings, wings that she could almost make out in the haze. Her mouth was hanging open, shocked. As she watched, he suddenly crouched, throwing his arms around a pair of figures. There was a sudden eruption from the room behind him and for a moment she thought that he was lost in a huge ball of fire. As she blinked away tears, choking on another scream, she realized that the wings she thought she had seen before were the fire. A pair of huge fiery wings. Dugan stood up, and she could see that he had been crouching over a pair of girls. As he rose, the wings unfurled to either side of him. The flames didn't seem to bother him. In fact it seemed as if they were drinking in the smoke that poured out of the windows, pulling it from the air as they slowly fanned back and forth.



Eireann gradually became aware that aside from the noises of the city beyond the walls and the approaching wails of sirens all the sounds inside the school grounds seemed to have stopped. Faces were turned up, just as hers was looking down, all of them staring, awe-struck at the angel in their midst.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Angel, Part Four, Rebirth   Mon 08 Dec 2008, 10:30 am

Dugan stood on the balcony, the two girls huddled in front of him, and felt the flames wash across his back. There was a flash of pain at first but it rapidly faded to simply a low, throbbing warmth. When he opened his eyes he could see his wings burning. The flexed slowly, drawing in heat and smoke. He stood there for a moment, stunned and amazed, because he could feel it moving through his body. He exhaled and faint trails of smoke curled from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth.

Then he noticed the girls at his feet. They were scared. Frightened. He wanted to chalk it up to just being outside an exploding classroom, but part of him knew that it was him they were afraid of. Tearing his eyes away from theirs, he noticed the crowd below all staring upwards despite the clamouring of the fire engines and emergency services vehicles roaring outside the main gate. No one was cheering, no one was clapping. They just stood and stared.

Dugan cursed under his breath and leapt into the air, his wings beating waves of heat down around him as he streaked off into the sky.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Eireann watched from the balcony of the main building as Dugan vanished amongst the sunlight and clouds looking for all the world like some avenging angel cast out of heaven. When she took a ragged breath she realized that she'd been holding it since he'd jumped. She sank to her knees, still watching over the balcony wall.

As rescue crews retrieved the girls from the balcony a few people in the commons yard cheered. Most however were in their little knots of peers, talking and gossipping. Already students were leaving early - picked up by bored drivers or concerned parents. She turned around finally, slumping against the wall,her mind reeling with the afternoon and all that she'd seen. Her eyes fell to a bundle on the patio - Dugan's school bag.

She leapt to her feet, grabbing the bag. Clutching it to her chest, she ran back inside the building and down the first flight of stairs. She had a reason to talk to him now. And something to talk about. Maybe the day wasn't a disaster after all.

Dugan didn't show up for school the next day. Eireann waited by the gatehouse for him until the last bell; she could afford to be late to Mr. Connor's English class at least once. She watched for him all day - between classes, during lunch, after school. She had a vague idea of where he lived - a nearby facility for wards of the state. Her parents always told her to avoid the place and the people who hung around its front steps. Besides the occasional orphan there were also a great number of adults who lived there - all of them with some type of handicap, be it physical, mental, or both.

She wasn't sure if she should try to find him or not. It wasn't that she thought he was dangerous, but more of a fear of rejection. What if he just blew her off? Taking a deep breath, she set off away from the gatehouse after school heading away from her friends and her familiar and safe route home. A few blocks from the school, she took a short cut through an alleyway towards Avenue C. She crossed the street and entered one of the larger city parks. From what she recalled, the complex where Dugan lived was somewhere on the other side of the park. Situated as it was amidst the urban sprawl, the park had been allowed to become somewhat overgrown in an effort to combat the oppressive haze of smog, noise, and light from the surrounding streets, but there were several trails that wound amongst its tree-covered hills.

As she crested a hill in the park, a burst of light caught her eye. Veering off of the path, she started towards a stand of tall bushes and trees. As she neared the location she thought she could faintly hear someone on the other side. Second thoughts started to assail her, but before she could turn back to the path, a pale form burst out of the hedge and collided with her.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Wed 31 Dec 2008, 9:24 am

Books lay scattered everywhere as loose paper slowly drifted down like leaves. Eireann and Dugan looked at each other from across the now empty bags of school books. For a moment, Eireann didn't know what he would do. He crouched in the grass, shirtless. She could see a variety of things passing behind his eyes, emotions moving across his face like waves in a storm. Slowly, he extended a hand to her as if to help her up. She slid her fingers into his and was shocked by how warm he felt. She looked up from where their hands met to his eyes. She saw his lips part, knew he was going to speak. Her breath caught for a moment.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dugan stared at the girl he'd collided with and for a moment his eyes filled with fear. She knew. She must have seen him. He hadn't been careful enough. It took a moment for him to recognize her as a girl from the school. He watched her, warily. He vaguely realized that one of the bags lying between them was his own as were the papers settling to earth. He knew that he'd left his bag behind when he'd fled the school. That it was here now, with her, confirmed it. She knew. She knew he was a paranormal. Something in him collapsed, falling in on itself until it hardened into a burning defiance.

"I won't be broken again," he said. The words fell like stones between them. He fell along with them, dropping back to the ground, pulling his legs up in front of him. He couldn't look at her so he just stared at her shoes. "I already know I'm a freak. You don't have to stare. You can run along back to where ever and tell your friends that everything they thought was true."

He nearly jumped when her fingers touched his cheek, brushing hair back from his eyes.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Wed 31 Dec 2008, 9:28 am

OK, at this point I'm kind of stuck. Granted, this is no where near anything like a polished piece...


I want to go back and cover more stuff from the school - because right now Dugan's realization that he's a paranormal to the scene in the park are really really close together, but textually should be farther apart.


Too, I think that I need more characterization going on. I'm not sure that the reader really will have a firm grasp on who Dugan is at this point.

Comments? Concerns? Critical or Complimentary, either way.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Sun 15 Feb 2009, 3:26 pm

I like it Dougie Very Happy
Back to top Go down
View user profile
VQuesadilla

avatar

Number of posts : 153
Age : 27
Location : Harvey, Louisiana
Registration date : 2008-12-18

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:19 am

I like Dougie


haha
eh.... No
haha
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:20 am

lawl, VQ Razz
Back to top Go down
View user profile
VQuesadilla

avatar

Number of posts : 153
Age : 27
Location : Harvey, Louisiana
Registration date : 2008-12-18

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:24 am

no more laughing at meh!
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:25 am

But that's what I live for!
Back to top Go down
View user profile
VQuesadilla

avatar

Number of posts : 153
Age : 27
Location : Harvey, Louisiana
Registration date : 2008-12-18

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:27 am

you'll die...
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:27 am

T_T And you wonder why I want to wish the world away...
Back to top Go down
View user profile
VQuesadilla

avatar

Number of posts : 153
Age : 27
Location : Harvey, Louisiana
Registration date : 2008-12-18

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:28 am

Razz

I'm hungry
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 6:28 am

Om nom nom nom?
Back to top Go down
View user profile
littlegoth

avatar

Number of posts : 244
Age : 39
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 7:50 pm

You know that i'm hopelessly addicted to your writing, right?
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 17 Feb 2009, 9:00 pm

Mine?! @_@ lol
Back to top Go down
View user profile
theSeraph

avatar

Number of posts : 959
Age : 43
Registration date : 2008-11-05

Character sheet
Name: Samael
Race: Human
Age: -indeterminate-

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Mon 23 Feb 2009, 7:40 am

*sighs*
Back to top Go down
View user profile
monodemono
Drama Drag Queen of Cafe Kong
avatar

Number of posts : 808
Age : 105
Location : A Place, Another Place
Registration date : 2008-11-30

Character sheet
Name:
Race:
Age:

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Tue 24 Feb 2009, 1:42 am

Razz
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Darxzero
Admin
avatar

Number of posts : 612
Age : 24
Location : Cafe Kong
Registration date : 2008-11-03

Character sheet
Name: Drital Vesdrac
Race: Drow
Age: 126

PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   Wed 25 Feb 2009, 5:52 am

'Tis an intriguing story, in my humble opinion.

_________________
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://cafekong.motionforum.net
Sponsored content




PostSubject: Re: [WIP, comments welcome] Short Story   

Back to top Go down
 
[WIP, comments welcome] Short Story
View previous topic View next topic Back to top 
Page 1 of 1
 Similar topics
-
» Short story ideas.
» My first short story ever in 4th grade. (Please comment)
» Short Story Writers Wanted
» New short story available FREE right now at Lulu
» Free short story - On the Rocks

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Cafe Kong Forums :: General :: General :: Serious Talk-
Jump to: