Writers Cafe

[Becoming-Bane]

So since there is an area here called the poets corner I thought it would be only fitting for there to be a place for people to share stories, or books they are writing without judgement. I personally am in the middle of writing two books (have a bit of writers block at the moment though). So come on in, pull up a chair, turn on your reading lamp, put some paper in your typewriter, and share your projects. If you want help with editing or anything just ask and Im sure people would be glad to help(myself included).

[Becoming-Bane]

here is one of my unfinished projects just to get things started. The working title for it is Sins Of Strangers

 

 

 

These shackles are digging into my wrists, and their rusty chains are the only thing keeping me from hitting the ground. All you can hear are the drip drips of my blood hitting the floor, and cough wheeze wheeze as I attempt to breathe. There is no light in this room. The darkness is the kind of darkness you'd expect to find in the heart of Satan himself. It’s darker than night. Darker than all of this pain, this anger, and hatred boiling up inside of me. And I yell; I curse the Gods; I curse my life and all of its so called trials and tribulations; I curse myself, my friends, and family; and its over. All of the things I've cared about are gone. Left outside in the flames that are consuming the so called "real world". And it burns. Everything burns, chars, melts away.

I'm left with nothing, doomed like everyone else to die alone. And maybe, just maybe I'll be lucky enough to have some little kid find me. The skin falling from my bones. Maybe, thanks to me, this little snot nose will be scarred for life, if I'm lucky.

When you can't see the sun rise or set you lose track of time. I don't even remember what the sun looks like anymore. The only thing I can picture when I think of it is a dull light coming through a crack in the darkness. All I see is that damn crack in the wall, letting in light and water. Blocking out everything I need food, fresh air, life. I've got nothing' I haven't had these things in days... maybe weeks, I’ve lost track of time. The closest things I have to food are the various insects and animals that happen to land on me.

I'm beginning to hear things now. The voices from my past; My sixth grade teacher Mrs. Jenkins telling me my parents divorce wasn't my fault; My dad telling me I'm worthless. Both voices I haven't heard in almost sixteen years coming back in a hallucination. I can almost see their faces. I can almost smell the alcohol on my dad’s breath.

Now I realize what’s going on of course. I'm dying. There’s nothing else to it. My vision is tunneling, my muscles are weak. The pain I'm feeling is nearly unbearable. I can’t breathe, my pulse is weakening.
Seth Tronea, the kid from a small town in Michigan, dying because he had to go to the police and rat on the freaking mob.

The pain is gone now. Faded away. My heart will be stopping soon. I feel strangely at ease, like nothing matters. In all honesty nothing really does matter. We are all dying anyways. Everything is dark now. Silent. Cold. Empty. Empty but somehow;  complete. Then there's nothing, no sounds, no feelings. Nothingness.

 

 Suddenly I'm awake. Surrounded by flames. Alone in hell. It seems fitting, I was alone in life, why not the afterlife. My eyes burn in the dry heat from the flames of hell. My skin blisters and peels from my bones. My body is dead, but my soul will burn for eternity. Mourning for life, wishing for death. Unaware of the fact it has no body. Scared. Alone. Paralyzed to the bone. This is the first day of the rest of my afterlife. I'm living in hell.

It took three weeks for me to learn how to move again. Three weeks of being burnt to a crisp then brought back good as new. One more week to be able to make any sound but a scream escape my lips. All I have been able to say is "Why?" why am I here? What did I do to deserve going to hell? I always thought I was a good person.

I have been walking for hours and I haven't seen anything besides flames. I don't even know what I'm standing on. The pain is a constant; I don't even notice it anymore. My thoughts are clearer since I have stopped feeling the pain. I have been remembering more about life. My life. How everything ended. I think about it more and more and I know I shouldn't be here. I was always the guy who helped everyone out. I was the nicest guy in town. I always gave but I never took anything.

"But you have taken something."

I spin around trying to find the source of the voice. But I see nothing.
"Who's there?" I call.

"You have taken something from everyone you ever came in contact with."

"What?!?! What did I ever take from anyone?"

"Sin. You took in the sins of every person you helped. Now you are damned. Condemned to hell for eternity."

"What do you mean I took their sins? How does that happen?!?"

"You absorbed all sin from their souls into your own. When you touched them you connected with them and drained them of evil."

"This can’t be true. There has to be some way for me to get out of here."

"How about a deal?"

"...What kind of deal?"

"I will let you go back to earth for one week... If in that time you can send me ten condemned souls you can have your soul. You will get a new body and live out the rest of your life and if you live right you won’t be back here."

"How have I lived that I deserve this now?"

"You are here because you were too caring. Your soul wouldn't let others be damned no matter what they did."

"This isn't right...."

"No one ever said life would be fair. Your life has been spent doing only right and still you ended up here."

"Ten?"

"Ten."

"I'll do it..."

.................................................................................................



Seth wakes with a start. He is sprawled out in the ally of a large city, the name of which he doesn't know. “It must have been a dream†he thinks to himself. The man slowly stands and stumbles out to the street. Stepping out of the ally he calls to the first person he sees "What city is this?" he asks. No one so much as looks in his direction. Angered by being ignored by so many people at once Seth reaches out to grasp the shoulder of a passer-by but his hand passes through them and they walk away with only a shiver. He turns just in time to see a man who was coming from behind walk directly through his body. He really had Died and gone to hell. He actually has to collect the souls of others... but how?

As he glided down the street Seth saw a man stealing an old woman’s purse. He ran after the man and grabbed his shoulder, though the man didn't seem to feel it he actually made contact, Seth threw the man to the side and the man fell, he fell into the road, and got hit by a car. Twenty minutes later an ambulance picked the man up and sped off towards the hospital. Another ten minutes passed and Seth heard a voice in his ear. "One down. Nine to go."
 

Seth smiled and began to wander the streets trying to find more of the tangible evil souls. He now knew what he had to.

Night fell and Seth hadn't found another soul he could touch. "Is there so little evil in the world?" he asked himself, "Or is it just that I must see the evil happening?" The ghost found a place to lie down and try to sleep, but after lying for two hours and not feeling the least bit drowsy he decided that in this form he didn’t need sleep. He got up and headed out into the city.

The next morning’s sunrise was the first Seth had seen in years. He was frozen by its beauty. For two hours he did nothing but stare at the sun. “One day I will be close enough to touch you.†He whispered to it, “When I make my way into heaven. I will never let you be lonely.†He saw the sun smile and he continued his hunt.

“One day down, along with one soul. Six days to go, nine lives to end. What am I going to do?†Seth remarked glumly. “I wish I had some advantages here, or at least some more time.†Suddenly his eyes started to burn, and he was forced to close them tight. When he was finally able to open them the world was changed. People were glowing with color. Red, Black, Green, and blue were all around him. He could sense the good and evil in people. He knew their every fault, their every dark secret. He knew more than he ever wanted to know about anyone.

A red woman walking toward him. She killed a man in a drunken rampage. She robbed five stores, and took advantage of more people than Seth or the woman could count. A blue teen coming up on his left. He was a straight "A" student, he hasn't even thought of trying drugs. He is still a virgin. A green woman coming from Seth's right was an old school hippie. The worst thing she has ever done was getting high and chaining herself to a tree. Then a chill ran through Seth's spine as he turned to see a man glowing black. His business suit was impeccable, his hair didn't have a single strand out of place. This man his smile bright brilliant white, he has raped and killed twenty women, he molested and abused countless children. The man had even assassinated the first female President of the United States. He was marked for death. His time would run out in ten minutes.

Seth followed the man into the local park. The place where all the children in the neighborhood play. Today is Saturday, the kids would all be coming this way. The man was planning his next strike. Three minutes and counting. The sound of heavy machinery comes from far off on Seth's right. He smiles knowing the sound. Chainsaws. There must be someone working on the trees in the park. Seth guides the man towards the sound. The man easily complies seeing large groups of children in that direction. Two minutes thirty seconds. Seth leans the man against a tree. One of the trees being worked on. The man stood against the tree watching the children, hunting for his victim. Ten seconds. A large branch begins to fall. Five seconds. The man hears it and looks up. Three seconds. He starts to run and Seth trips him. Zero. The branch falls on top of the man and a protruding limb impales him. It punctures his heart. Seth wishes the man would have had time to suffer for his sins. That he had lasted just a few seconds before falling to the depths of hell. He turns and looks for his next soul. Then next person marked for death. There isn't a hint of red or black in the park.

Walking through the city Seth is bombarded with color yet still he sees no black. Wandering through the worst part of town the worst he sees is red. After a couple of hours of unconscious walking Seth starts to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looks up to see he is in the rich part of town everything seems dark though it’s a bright summer day. A woman in a black and white satin Chanel dress walks out of her house. Her hair is white with a blond tint. Her shoes are black high heels, shined to perfection. Her skin wrinkled in some places and pulled tight and botoxed in others. Darkness surrounds her. Twenty five minutes and counting.

Her house is more a mansion than a house. Three stories tall, with a grand piano in the foyer. I follow her up a marble spiral staircase to the top floor where her bedroom is, the third door on the left, and I watch as she takes off her heels and dress. She is wearing a silk nightgown underneath. I sit in a chair in the corner, watching and waiting, as she crawls under the covers. The woman reaches into the drawer of her nightstand and pulls out a bottle of pills. As she takes the top off Seth walks over to her bedside. She tips the bottle and two pills fall into her hand. Seth tips the bottle higher and nine pills fall into the ladies hand. She swallows them with the water on the nightstand. Fifteen minutes and counting.

Seth, waiting for the woman to die, walks to the grand piano and plays a sad, haunting song. Ten minutes. The tune brings back thoughts of his death and the music grows darker. Four minutes fifteen seconds. The melody fills the house, as he comes to the end of the song he hears a voice from upstairs. One minute.
 

"Is someone there?" the old woman's weak confused voice calls out. "This is private property you shouldn't be here"
 

Seth decides to drag the tune for just a little bit longer. The voice upstairs is silent for a moment then "I'm coming down. I have a gun you had better be gone when I get there."
Ten seconds. The sound of her first step is heard. Then the second. Then a loud bang and she tumbles down the stairs. Zero. When she reaches the bottom Seth walks to her and checks her pulse. There's nothing.
 

"Three down. Seven to go." Seth says as he leaves the house. When he gets outside he realizes its night time. So he waits out the night on the hood of the woman's car and watches the stars. They shine bright calling out to him, telling him to join them in the heavens. “Soon.†He whispers “I will be with you soon, to watch from above as the sun hides from the darkness of the night.†The Reaper closes his eyes to plan for morning.

 

When the sun finally rises Seth gets into the woman’s car and drives into town to search for his next target. He drives for two hours and see’s nothing more than a couple Greens and Blues and decides its time to ditch the dead lady’s car. Seth pushes the car to full speed and steps out gliding to a stop as the car smashes into a nearby building. People come running from every direction to find out what happened. Only one person doesn’t stop to look.

 

Walking past the car is a man shrouded in black. Images jump into Seth’s head. Images of things Seth couldn’t believe one human could do to another. This man murdered and consumed his victims, raping them while they were alive and after he kills them. Seth cringes and rushes toward the man. Anger burns deep inside him as races forward closing in on the monster. The man turns a corner into an ally and when Seth gets there he sees no one. The man was gone. Seth sprints down the ally looking everywhere but cant find the man. “How could he have gotten away?†Seth wonders aloud. “I was right on his heels.†Discouraged he continues his search for souls.

 

After walking for two and a half hours Seth finds himself in a subway station. Business men and women, and homeless people surround him walking and jogging in every direction. Chaos is all around him. Flashes of color and sins constantly flash before his eyes. Visions of crimes and atrocities blind him.

[Becoming-Bane]

Heres the other. Dont really have a title for this one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She looked so peaceful laying there on the bed. Her pale eyes glazed over and staring at nothing. What looks like a strand of hair hanging across her face, it's really blood. It's been about two hours since he killed her ... and her body ... like always, it's perfect, but now it’s wasted. If only I hadn't been so lonely before I met her. If only I hadn't met him, hadn't ... invented him. Maybe then she would still be alive. If only I could turn back time, go back to last summer, to when I was happy, before I was left alone. This is all my fault, his fault. It's all the same.

I'm just sitting in the corner watching her. I still haven't called the police, even though I witnessed her death. I guess I'm just procrastinating. Maybe I have this crazy idea that I can bring her back, and take back everything bad that I've done to her; or maybe I just don't really care; she never was that good to me. I guess none of the things we do can be taken back. The things we do last forever. Even after we're dead they live on. But that's not the bad part, what’s really bad is forever never ends. I keep thinking that I should at least cover her up... be courteous. Maybe it's better to just not do anything. I guess my last true job before I'm dead and gone is tell the story of how this happened. The story of the last year of my so-called-life, which lead to the end of hers.

"Last call to all boarding flight 2039 to Los Angeles ..."

Those announcements seem so much louder when you have a hangover. The party of the century always leads the morning of hell. I feel like my head is splitting into a million pieces, and by the look of it, Akara isn't doing much better. Judging by the look on her face, I'd say it’s going to be a long, quiet, lonely night. Yeah, it's going to be a normal day at home.

It seems like we fight every night, and the pain is unbearable, but I can’t let it end. It’s like when ever she turns her back; I fall apart, so now I just live through the pain. What can I say; I'm a glutton for punishment. Each agonizing second I spend with her is the best and worst moment of my life, mixed into one horrifyingly fantastic breath of existence. I choose to breathe deeply. Slowly. I savor every minute of it.

Akara with her dark hair. Akara with her hazel eyes that gleam in the light. Akara ... she smells of wild flowers and white wine. Zinfandel, if I'm not mistaken. That always was her favorite. Akara was like an angel. Five-six, one-hundred and twenty pounds. Perfect in every way. To this day I'm not sure what she saw in me. But I'm straying from the story now. I guess I'm just trying to keep you here. I haven't had anyone to listen to me in years.

Akara and I were on our way home from the biggest New Years Eve party in America. Needless to say we had imbibed our fair share of alcoholic beverages. This was our four month anniversary. I had forgotten and she wasn't happy. She was never happy. But I brought home enough money to feed her addiction to high priced clothing and apparel. Otherwise I was useless. All of the dressers and closets in our house were filled with dresses, bags, shoes, and skirts. It looked like Victoria's Secret exploded in our bedroom. Bras and thongs everywhere. A perverts dream, my hell.

I'm getting ahead of myself. I should start when we first met. Maybe before. The day that "He" walked into my life. Jason ... that's what he called himself. Jason; he was who I wanted to be and I hated him for it.

This all started last year, it was the middle of summer, I was alone, and no one seemed to know I existed. The only time anyone ever talked to me was when they needed something. That was my life, giving everything and receiving nothing. That is until Jason showed up in my office. He was dressed in blue jeans, a band tee that supported Nirvana, custom Converse All Star high-tops, and a beaten up black and green baseball cap worn twisted slightly to the right. A pair of dark sunglasses hid his eyes. He spoke the way a man speaks when he doesn’t care what anyone thinks, like he owns the world. You could feel the confidence radiating from his core.

 

Jason was the bare minimum kind of guy. He kept his hair short but somehow it always looked stylish. The dark black color made his bright green eyes pop. As he strolled up to my desk he pulled off his hat and ran his long fingers through his hair with a smile. “Hi, I’m Jason.†His voice was like velvet, but at the same time rugged. “I hear you need a consultant.†As he spoke the smile never left his face, his bright white teeth mocked me from behind his lips.

 

I looked him up and down skeptically. “What makes you think you are qualified for this?†I asked.

He laughed and said “Look out of your window. You need someone like me.†I sighed as I stood up and walked to the window. When I looked out I saw a large group of people ten floors down on the sidewalk. They stood spelling out my companies name and motto “Syn Corp Tomorrows Technology A Day Earlyâ€

“How did you manage this?†I wondered aloud.

“Connections†He replied simply.

“Welcome aboardâ€

 

Over the next few weeks Jason and I created an ad campaign that would revolutionize the way people saw my company and make us the largest computer and technology producers in the world. I went from near bankruptcy to multibillion dollar industry almost overnight. We were on the cover of Forbes, Times, and many other major magazines. We were a regular Bonnie and Clyde. More famous than Brad and Angelina.

 

 

 It was at a red carpet event that I met her. I was walking behind Clooney and I looked past the rope and our eyes met. Everything else faded away and I walked over to her and asked her name. “Akara†She said shyly “Akara Johanson†

“It’s nice to meet you Akara, My name is..â€

“I know who you are†She interrupted. I still wasn’t used to the fame, I don’t know if anyone ever does get used to it.

“How would you like to be my date for the night?†I implored.

“I would love to†She replied with an embarrassed smile. I let her under the rope as Jason laughed at me.

[far_away]

I hope my tone doesn't sound sarcastic or critical.   I just wanna get to the point immediately.

 

The first person narrative feels abit off because the narrator (character) sounds like he speaking to the reader (the use of I and you). Nothing wrong with that but because it is set in present tense, it sets up the reader as standing in the presence of the narrator who is currently experiencing those things.

 

"These shackles are digging into my wrists, and their rusty chains are the only thing keeping me from hitting the ground. All you can hear are the drip drips of my blood hitting the floor, and cough wheeze wheeze as I attempt to breathe"

 

Might read more smoothly as:

 

"The shackles dug into my writs, their rusty chains were the only thing keeping me from hitting the ground. All I could hear were the sounds of my blood dripping onto the surface below me...."