Chapter 0 - teaser
Submitted February 21, 2007 Updated April 29, 2007 Status Incomplete | Umm ... see the coverpage for full description, here. This thing wouldn't let me type it all ...
Category:
Fantasy » Misc. Fantasy |
Chapter 0 - teaser
Chapter 0 - teaser
A little teaser to my story, which I have temporarily titled Apocalypse. Ehm ... This is the main charactere, August, dreaming. um. I hope you guys like it!
He was standing in a dark room. He could smell nothing; see nothing but his skin, pale against the dark. Water was running somewhere, flowing down. He lifted his left hand, looked at the ink on his palm. Lines were spidering out from the letters, vines growing in cut time from his friend's name and the verb. He raised his other hand; tried to wipe it off. His palm was dry. The dark ink crawled under his skin like blood.
A drop of something landed on the back of his hand. It was dark, another drop of ink. It sank into his skin, sending out feelers, vines that coiled around his fingers. He could feel it, cold and black, winding up his arms. Vines, serpents, wings, spiders, long streams of alien runes spiralled over his flesh. Spiralling, creeping, flowing. A drop landed on the top of his left foot, a seed that sprouted, sending tendrils around his ankle. The ones on his arms shot out across his chest; he could feel them spreading over his back, spilling sluggishly down his spine, sticky and cool.
The ink came up over his shoulders, the vines and serpents twined up farther, around his neck, pressing inward, tighter and tighter, up over his jawline and over his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Ink dancing over his skin, slowly eating him away into empty space.
Everything was black now; he could see nothing, not even his own skin anymore. He didn't know if it was because the ink had blinded him, or because it had taken over his skin completely.
The ink had had filled his nose, a sharp, stale tang. It made him want to sneeze, but the ink had plugged his nose and mouth, all that was left of his air squeezed out by the bands across his chest. He clawed at the stuff smothering him, but his fingers met only his own, blacked-out skin.
He gasped, but he was sucking ink. It filled his mouth, sharp and earthy and acidic. He tried to spit it out, but there was nothing save more ink to fill the space, and his empty lungs demanded something to fill them, regardless of what that may be.
He was drowning in ink.
Note: his hand says Ask Gedric. Gedric is his best friend. He accidentally wrote it in permanent ink on his hand. So now he essentially has a tattoo on his left palm that reads thusly.
Well ... That's all for right now. This is from chapitre six, Ink. Comment if you'd like to see more! xD
-phantom
He was standing in a dark room. He could smell nothing; see nothing but his skin, pale against the dark. Water was running somewhere, flowing down. He lifted his left hand, looked at the ink on his palm. Lines were spidering out from the letters, vines growing in cut time from his friend's name and the verb. He raised his other hand; tried to wipe it off. His palm was dry. The dark ink crawled under his skin like blood.
A drop of something landed on the back of his hand. It was dark, another drop of ink. It sank into his skin, sending out feelers, vines that coiled around his fingers. He could feel it, cold and black, winding up his arms. Vines, serpents, wings, spiders, long streams of alien runes spiralled over his flesh. Spiralling, creeping, flowing. A drop landed on the top of his left foot, a seed that sprouted, sending tendrils around his ankle. The ones on his arms shot out across his chest; he could feel them spreading over his back, spilling sluggishly down his spine, sticky and cool.
The ink came up over his shoulders, the vines and serpents twined up farther, around his neck, pressing inward, tighter and tighter, up over his jawline and over his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Ink dancing over his skin, slowly eating him away into empty space.
Everything was black now; he could see nothing, not even his own skin anymore. He didn't know if it was because the ink had blinded him, or because it had taken over his skin completely.
The ink had had filled his nose, a sharp, stale tang. It made him want to sneeze, but the ink had plugged his nose and mouth, all that was left of his air squeezed out by the bands across his chest. He clawed at the stuff smothering him, but his fingers met only his own, blacked-out skin.
He gasped, but he was sucking ink. It filled his mouth, sharp and earthy and acidic. He tried to spit it out, but there was nothing save more ink to fill the space, and his empty lungs demanded something to fill them, regardless of what that may be.
He was drowning in ink.
Note: his hand says Ask Gedric. Gedric is his best friend. He accidentally wrote it in permanent ink on his hand. So now he essentially has a tattoo on his left palm that reads thusly.
Well ... That's all for right now. This is from chapitre six, Ink. Comment if you'd like to see more! xD
-phantom
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silverfox on February 22, 2007, 8:04:05 AM
silverfox on
Trinity_Fire on February 22, 2007, 5:28:00 AM
Trinity_Fire on
Oooooooooooh, interesting!! And, I really love your descriptions. >>; Um, can I say, tattoo-fetish? XD; You and I think alike, sir yes sir. X) I take that as a good thing.
Heck yes I'd love to read more!! Sorry I've been neglecting you if I have; I've just been so busy of late... ...Speaking of which, I should open up the starting-to-get-dusty Iris folder... >>;
Gyah! Unimportant! Continue! I'd love to read more. 'Ask Gedric' is somehow very cool-sounding. 8D;
Because, uh, it's August. And I'm like Gwen in that I love August. Except... Mine's not quite as platonic. >:D
I'm writing 'Ask Gedric' on my hand now. xDD