Its been awhile hasn't it? Ah the busyness of life...
I've actually been fairly busy writing lately. unfortunately I am not ready to post the short story The Secrete Society of Those Who Burn Toast yet...(Its gonna be great once I get rid of typos and add more detal tho') so I am just posting this one!
I actually really like this little short and I want to make it something longer! But first lets see what people think of my idea of where the root of all evil might reside!
hahahahaha as usual this short has my weird crazy influence... ^^;;
Please comment! Constructive critism is always welcomed!
The Root of All Evil
The Root of All Evil currently resides inside my left work boot. It wasn’t a big deal yesterday, a Sunday with no work, but today, a Monday where I have work, I am annoyed to say the least. I sit kneeling on the floor staring at my shoe wondering what I should do; meanwhile Evil’s little red eyes peer out at me from the dark recesses of the boot.
Quite frankly its inhabitation of my boot is a huge problem. I would just stick my foot in, ignore it and go on with my life, but I am worried that it would bit off my leg if I tried. Same goes for sacrificing my hand to pull it out. Losing any of my limbs is definitely out of the question. I guess I could try to lure it out with some food or something, but I am pretty sure it’s surviving solely on the misery created from loosing my left boot.
Of course you may wonder why I don’t simply wear another pair of shoes, for surely I have more than one set… And I would but these are my work boots, and are a part of the very strict uniform my occupation demands… My shoe collection is small and only includes my work boots, a pair of grass stained sneakers, some sandals my misguided sister bought me for my birthday one year, and a pair of slippers. The slippers are definitely out and the work boots are currently possessed by the Root of All Evil, which leaves me the sandals and sneakers. Nobody wears sandals to work so that really narrows my options down to wear the work boots and loose my foot or wear dirty old sneakers…
I pause and think. I get up and go to the cabinet where I keep my pencils and pens. I grab a black marker and return to where my shoes sit lined in a row. The glowing red eyes look at me curiously and I think I see some teeth. I pick up my sneakers and proceed to color them black with the marker.
The red eyes watch me and I look back at them. “Ha ha!” I think, “Take that Root of All Evil! I shall defeat you with my felt tip pen!” and then I look away and continue to color them to look more like my boots. With any luck my boss won’t notice the shoe swap.
I slip on the boot imitation sneakers and tie up their laces. I stand up and give my left boot and glace and see the glowing eyes blink back at me. I pull on my hat and say to The Root of All Evil, “I’ll see you later tonight. Try not to make a mess.”
The door closes behind me as I exit my apartment and wonder whether my landlord would allow me to keep a pet… What can I say? I’ve become attached to the little bugger… it’s like having a troublesome puppy… only evil.
So yeeh, right now this story has no name.
Actually this is really just the beginning of a looooong idea I have. >.>
So its really chapter 0... kind of like a oneshot that might lead to a full blown series.
And I am pretty much using it like that.
Depending on the reaction to this chap. 0 will help determine whether or not I continue posting it up here...
Actually this chapter doesn't get to what the main point will be it just introduces the main character.
I figure if people like the character at least it'll all be good.
So please readers!!!
I NEED imput!!!
Tell me how this is!
Also I am taking suggestions for a title or a better name for the shop!
Ps. I've been suffering horrible writers black lately so feel free to pitch any crazy ideas you may have...
Chapter 0: Too Young to be Old
“You’re much too young for this job.” States the businessman browsing through magazines in the convenience shop.
The shopkeeper looks up from the book he is reading behind the counter.
“Whatever do you mean?” he inquires with a lazy voice.
“Look at you! You can’t be 30 yet! And you’re running late night store filled with bits and ends of food, mags, cloths, and junk!”
“So? Some people would call me a very successful entrepreneur to own my own business at my tender age.” He replies not looking up from his book.
“You are far to young to be acting like an old man! You have your whole life ahead of you!” says the businessman angrily, “I mean just look at your sign!”
The sign on the shop reads “Night Shop: Your one stop shop open all night with any and all impedimenta and supplies you may desire!”
“Impedimenta? Doesn’t that mean to ‘impede’?”
“Some people like traveling slowly”
The businessman stares at the shopkeeper for a moment, so frustrated that words won’t come. Finally he calms down enough to shout “And why’s your store called “Night Shop” anyways?! The name makes it sound like a dirty sex shop!”
“I am only open at night.” Replies the shopkeeper.
“What kind of store is only open at night?”
“Mine is.” The man behind the counter states matter of factly, “The late night wanderer is by far one of the most under represented minorities.” The storeowner lowers his head and sighs heavily, “It's a terrible thing.”
“I don’t know why I bother.” The businessman places his magazine on the counter.
The man passes over the money and the owner hands him the change.
“See you next week Stan.” Says the shopkeeper.
“Yeah, yeah. Bye.”
Right before the he exists the store, Stan stops and turns around.
“Come to think of it, it’s been nearly two months since I moved into town and started coming here and I don’t know what your name is.”
“Hmm?” the shopkeeper glances up, “Well it’s on my name tag”
“No your name tag is blank.”
“What?!” he looks at his nametag pinned to his shirt; there is no name written on it, “Well what’d ya know… Guess I don’t have a name..?”
Stan gives him an exasperated look. “So” asks Stan, “Why is it blank?”
“I haven’t picked a name yet.”
“My real name is very boring you see… I wanted something more exciting and You know, something with pizzazz…”
“Uh huh,” says Stan impatiently, “Well what should I call you then?”
“Hmmm, I guess for now call me Nemo.”
“That's a stupid name. It's a rip off of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea and is just a plan awful name.” sates Stan.
“Better than Stan.” Points out Nemo.
“I hate you.”
“I’ll see you next week.”
Stan nods grads his magazine and exits the shop.
Somewhere a mysterious Bing chimes as the door rattles shut.
Nemo takes off his blank nametag and stares at it.
“No… Nemo really is too much of a rip off…” he mutters “I need something for people to call me though…”
He picks up a black marker and scribbles on the plastic nametag.
He pins it back on.
It reads “Hello my name is Ambri! How may I help you?”
Ambri leans back in his chair and closes his eyes.
“Only five more hours until closing time.”
Hey it's been awhile!
The below is a short story and (sadly) based off of my own life. *sigh*
Where I live now....
I Illegally cross the street to get to my room on the second floor of an old, three story, cement building. I can hear a police siren off in the distance. Loud screaming music plays from an open window on another building nearly pressed up against the one I call home. I turn off of the sidewalk down some stairs littered with discarded cigarettes. I turn into the roofed area protecting the staircase. There I can see rusted pipes. I climb the metal staircase. There are spilt french fries and a puddle from which come wet little footprints of a rat or maybe a raccoon. I reach the seconded floor landing and put my key card up to the scanner. The door beeps and then clicks. I let myself in and walk down the hall towards my room. There is a group of guys talking to the girl who lives across the hall. I mutter, “excuse me” as I push past them and fiddle with the key in the lock. The door swings open with a creak and I close it again once I’m inside with an unintentional BANG. It’s hot and stuffy in the room and I walk past three beds in our small space to get to the window. I wrestle for a moment with the blinds before getting them to stay up. I lift the lock on the window and swing the glass pane out. I see an ant and kill it. As I lean out my screen less window at the dirty ground below I can’t help but think,
“Man, I live in a bit of a slum.”
This my first fan word contest entry... IT was written with the image of two men sitting calmly eating cake with the end of the world visable through the window...
Thank you for viewing!
This story is down for fixing!
I am planning to persue it further by way of film!
Thank you for your understanding,
My 2 year TheO surprise!(Unless you read MyO...)
BACKROUND OF STORY:
This one of two short vampire stories I wrote under the prompt "Your first night as a vampire." Thoguh I like the other story I wrote better (a comedy from a guy's point of view) it's hand written, needs to be fixed and Iam too slow a typer to write it up agian. (Maybe I'll post that one later...) Back to the point now. This is written in a very similar style to "Miss Ratched's Love Story" and is hopefully a good description of the first
day night of a vampire.
I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!! *bows*
The end. Or at least that’s the way it began. My death, that’s how my life came into being. I remember how it felt when my body failed and how the world I had known drifted away from me. There was pain at first but it soon faded. All that was left was me. Then I also began to feel the “me” floating away. Then nothing. Just an endless expanse of nothing. I was quite surprised when feeling came flowing back again. No pain, not anymore, just warmth. It felt wonderful, warm like being wrapped in a blanket. I was so at peace with myself, the world, everything.
I opened my eyes.
Night enveloped me. Oh, how beautiful the world appeared to my new eyes born of darkness. I saw the hidden light that eyes blinded by sun can never be able to see. I understood right away that sunlight would never be enough for me again. It would never make me as happy or as warm as this dark bliss. It felt exhilarating. It was as if the elements themselves were giving me strength. More then I ever could have even dreamed of attaining had in my previous life. I stood up and took a deep breath so I could fully enjoy the sensation of this power. Suddenly I realized that the rhythm of my heart and breathing I had grown so used to was over and everything was still and quite. When it sunk in that I no longer needed to breath and that that life was done, I stopped. No need to pretend I was still alive in the way I used to be. I had a second chance at life within my death. I was beyound description.
Then an odd, but not surprising, feeling took me over. Hunger. Even this feeling was pleasant even though at the same time it was tearing me apart. It was all consuming. The pain itself was beautiful bliss. It was ecstasy. My very being seemed to be crying out, every cell craved blood.
Maybe a cat jumped over my grave? I mused remebering the old stories from my first life, or maybe it was my red birthmark, or was I born with hair? I wonder. I wonder. What made me this way?
Putting those pointless thoughts aside, I then went in search of subsidence. I walked slowly, I was in no hurry. I could feel my goal near; unsuspecting and weak. Their heartbeat sounded delicious. I crept closer. They could not hear me. After all with out troublesome breath and heart to worry about, I was completely silent. Soon I was right behind my prey. I watched them they were vulnerable and would be easy to take. I slid silently behind the human, and before they could even begin to think, a quick twist to the neck and they were dead, gone to my cause. As to feed before the blood turned cold, I quickly I clamped on to their neck and broke the skin with my long teeth. I then proceeded to drain them of their blood. It was sweet and warm. I could feel it sliding down my throat into my stomach, and feel it being absorbed into my being. I was feeling stronger then ever, it was the best thing I had ever tasted.
I let go of the body and it dropped with a thud to the ground. I licked my lips. And took time to enjoy the moment. Instinct more then anything else told me what to do next. The sun was coming, and my sensitive night eyes would be burned from the brightness of its light. I turned and went back to my new home. I stared at the hole in the ground where I had been thoughtlessly buried by my killer. I climbed into the pit and pulled the earth so it covered me once more. I fell asleep.
I had sad dreams of a life past. In the dream there was sun and a family I will never see again. I know the dream well now, it’s the same one I have every day. And I know when I wake again tomorrow night I’ll have the tears running down my face like I always do. Someday will I finally die? I wonder. I wonder.