Room Renovation...

So, today was one of those days that one strangely looks foreward to, and at the same time dread.

The day you sort out your room, throw away junk, and move stuff around for a new look.

I have planned this for a week now. I woke up, looked around, and started moving furniture like a mad man.

It still doesn't look any better than it did this morning.

Hopefully, 2 o' clock tomorrow morning things will look better.

Anyway, I must thank all you people who take the time to read and comment on my blog.

You are all special indeed.

Every comment helps me in one way or another. And you do me great honour in commenting.

So be my advertising agents (with a please), and recommend my blog to others. But they must comment!

Anywho.

You all seemed to like "The Silence", which is this story's name. Here is the second chapter. Don't choke.

Chapter Two: No more sorrow....

 

Leaves, trees, bushes, saplings; they all blurred as I ran through the woods. I could still feel the flames enveloping me, still see the their glow lighting up my surroundings.

And my flesh was still untouched.

My vision was non-existent as I ran, dark shapes and the red glow all I could pick through my tears of frustration and grief. All I heard was my loud breathing and stuttering cries.

I ran into a tree and bounced off, coughing blood. But then I was up again, leaving a patch of leaves burning. And the world blurred again.

I don’t know how long I ran. Or how far. But when I came-to, it was daylight and I was curled up in long grasses.

I blinked away leaves, rubbing my soot-covered hands over my eyes and shivering at the gritty sensation.

My clothes were singed and blackened, and I was strangely warm, but I could not find burn marks anywhere on my skin. I rolled over, getting to feet with a moan. My body and legs where bruised from falling and running over and over again.

I realized I must have run through the whole night.

I took my surroundings in, still stretching and trying to loosen my tired muscles. I was in a marsh-field, in a clearing of trees. Over the trees, in the distance, I saw tall pillars of smoke rising.

Everywhere I looked I saw similar ones. Some were nearer, others further. All thick and dark.

Images of last night were seared into my eyes. Every time I blinked, they would appear. Roasted flesh. Burning wood. Splintered debris.

I choked up and coughed. No. I had to block the pain. The pain was slowly killing me. Ignore the pain. Just keep going. Leave this place.

Not once did it cross my mind to go back. Not once did I think to try and find out what was going on. I was just too tired. Too crushed. Too dazed.

The afternoon found me near civilization. Through the trees I saw the shapes of houses. Or what used to be houses. These were also crushed. Wrecked.

Something within me woke up. I felt as if it would be a very bad idea to go near the wrecks. An insistent voice kept saying “NO.” First softly but growing in volume.

I tried to listen to it. To find its source. But I was still struggling to link coherent thoughts together. My hands were burning and my face felt hot. But I didn’t care.

I fell to my knees and started moving slowly closer. I thought nothing, felt nothing. Just the same voice, over and over again.

No. No. No. NO. NO. NO. NO! NO! NO!

Louder and louder, closer and closer.

I crawled up next to a wall, leaning against a chunk of what used to be a car. It had struck the wall at a 90 degree angle with great violence.

 And I just lay there, as quiet as I could, listening for sounds beside the voice.

A crunch woke me up. It was dark. A pale moon was in the sky.

I calmed my breathing and listened carefully.

Another crunch.

I tried to figure out what that crunch meant. I tried to piece together some sense into the picture.

Nothing.

Like an animal, I cowered in the corner, wishing away whatever it was.

A tall shape appeared, walking through the ruins with a what looked like a pipe in his hands. The shape was completely black, various buckles and pockets being picked up in the pale light. He clutched the pipe-thing with both hands, pointing it forward and sweeping it back and forth like a weapon.

I stayed still, trying to figure out why this figure looked familiar.

Nothing.

My heart rate picked up, and my hands started burning again. I tried to calm it, but it didn’t work. The shape seemed to have sensed something, and turned his head slightly in my direction.

Just like my mom always did. The thought burst into my mind with violence. Immediately I remembered last night, the fire, the howls, the deaths....

My hands burned fiercely but I didn’t care. With the memories came thoughts and with the thoughts came emotions.

A massive cry roared out of me, wrapping around the shape. My vision filled with flickering light, and I couldn’t tell if it was memories or real. Everything, emotions and memories and reality, all accelerated and exploded into a great cauldron of confusion.

And then, for the first time, there was peace.

And wasn't that just so much fun? I love writing stuff like this.

I know this is far from perfect, but I prefer to keep a mistake or two in the writing. Makes me work harder to top everything I have done.


Work it harder, make it better...

That type of jazz.

Comment your hearts out.

Creepers....

Indeed, it is I. I am back from the dead...

Or holiday. Same thing.

Anywho, I know I haven't blogged in centuries, so please stop throwing assorted junk at me. I just had a beautifully long holiday before I write exams, so be gentle.

But I haven't abandoned you people. Whoever you are. If you are still here...

I have been commenting on your blogs, and writing occasionally. Lets just say, you guys are more of an inspiration then I will ever admit.

But, I also have been wasting time. Minecraft. Where have you been all my life.

I have successfully watched hours of my time fly away into the awesome and amazing void that is Minecraft.

So yeah. Now you know where I have been the last few weeks.

Now, I know I said next time I posted, it would have a story. And I am keeping my word. It is down below.

But I also want to ask you random people something (is anyone even there?). Would you like me to continue with Lord Vlaedr's adventures? Because I have written a few chapters of it, but I'm honestly not "feeling it" anymore.

So here is your homework: choose one of the three stories you want me to write or continue.

Lord Vlaedr and Vesalda.

A new Lord Vlaedr.

Or this:

Chapter One: Through the fire and the flames.....

Why am I writing this?

What is the purpose?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

Maybe I am hoping that someone finds this one day.

Naive, I know.

But someone has to hear this story.

And it might as well be you...

 

 

I will start where it started. That night.

I remember the cold crystals blowing across my face, burning their way into my pores. The wind seemed especially sharp that night, cutting through me like knife to paper. My bones ache with the thought of it.

My boots crunched in the slushy, ice mixture, collecting moisture everywhere they could. Soon my jeans were soaked up to the knees.

I was walking home. No one was outside. Who would want to be? It was just me. And the cold. But I never got cold. It was just the way I was. Mom said that it was because I had grown up tough. I didn’t believe it.

The flickering of lights was seen through the windows of the houses. Everyone lit fires on a night like this. You would be mad not to.

Or dead.

One moment I was walking along a lonely street, the next I was spitting out chunks of ice and asphalt.

I picked myself up, gazing with horror at the destruction around me. What used to be houses were now charred wrecks, filled with bubbling glass and melted insulation. The street was no more. Shards of the sidewalk littered everywhere, in walls and scattered across yards.

There were no screams, no cries of agony.

Just. Instant. death.

Tears from the heat streamed down my face. I staggered away from the massive craters filled with blazes, heading further down the street towards my house.

I tripped over a crack, falling to my knees. I slowly raised my gaze, recognizing my yard for the first time. Or what used to be my house.

It was flattened, completely and utterly destroyed. My pillowcase was hanging from what used to be a tree. My mom’s laptop lay half-melted on the lawn.

My chest tightened, panic and misery flowing through me. I choked on my tears. Dead. They were all dead.

Then there was a scream. A shape appeared in the doorway, crawling on the floor, all the while sobbing and screaming. I jumped up and ran to it. When I got to it, it stopped moving but went on screaming. I turned it over and found out why.

It was my sister. Her face was melted, no features visible. Blood leaked  out of the broken and bubbling flesh. She seemed to sense me and screamed louder.

I backed up, now screaming myself. I bumped into someone behind me. Our neighbour. Also half melted. Also screaming.

There were people everywhere. Screaming. Alive, when they should be dead.

But I didn’t wonder or care. I just turned and ran, my body on fire now, screaming myself. But for different reasons.

 

__________________________________________________________________________________

Yes it is short, but thats my style. Its how I roll.

And it is totally morbid.

No, I am not jacking other people's ideas. This is totally original. I wrote this more than four weeks ago.

Oh, and by the way, I watched Julie/Julia. It was so sweet. And its given me an enirely different prespective on blogging....

So remember: choose a story and comment it!

And comment on this one ^!

And help me get more readers!

Plus more critisism!!!!

Faith in humanity restored.....

Look at this people.

A few days ago there was a horrible shooting at the opening of the Dark Knight Rises. On facebook (don't have, but I have my sources), a lot of people agreed that Batman should visit the victims in hospital.

Guess who pitched up?

I can now officially say, that my faith in humanity is restored.

Here are a few more pics.

Don't worry.

I am getting fed up with myself too.

Next time you see I have posted, it will be actual writing. My "pathetic excuse stage" is finishing now.

"Denver - Derek's Post " The Repost of a Repost

Denver- Derek's Post

This is a repost of a repost, from Nix to Mist, and now to me....

Derek posted about the incident in Denver, which I'm sure you all know about. I'm not going to talk about that.
I think, as a mark of respect, we should leave that post empty of talk. I'm only going to go on the previous post, and I hope you all do that with me. It's a serious topic, and I don't think we should be talking on that post. I'm not saying don't leave a comment about it, hopefully your condolences, but please don't talk on it. Post this message on your blogs so people know about it, because not everyone reads my blog.

Thank you

 

All of the above apply to me. Please post this on your blog, since I know for a fact that not a lot of people read my blog....

Fighting... The Martial Arts type....

So... I havent blogged in a while.

A seriously long while.

Its quite sad.

I see how doubt has entered some of your minds. It crept in during my blogging absence. Some of you believe I gave up on blogging. Some think my internet conspired agaisnt me (AGAIN).

But it does not matter. For I am still here. I have always been here.

Although I do not blog, I still read all your blogs, and sometimes comment randomly *emphasis on randomly*.

I also still write. Not alot, but the bare minimum required to be called a writer (what is the bare minimum???).

But that is not why I am blogging today.

Put down that shoe you were about to throw!

No. Today I speak about fighting. The martial arts type.

___________________________________________________________________________________

I have been doing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for exactly two years and four months.

The gym I belong to is owned by someone I know. I have been with it since it started. Exactly two years and four months ago.

Since then I have grown taller, shed a LOT of weight, and grown muscle. I grew up.

This year was the first time I competed. Before then I had never been in a fight, never shed blood through the harm another caused (unless you count the Knife Incident. Let us not talk about the Knife Incident.).

Minor slap fights and shoving contests have been about it.

So far my BJJ compition record stands at two wins and one loss. I have been in two compititions so far.

I am not that bad if you consider that I am the only teenager (teenager meaning between the ages of 13 - 20 years old) in my gym, the rest being grown ups.

My record isn't that bad either, if you consider the fact that I have only ever fought people 27 and older. Grown men that have fully developed their muscle structure and have stopped growing. Men that excercise frequently (I excercise about five times a week, depending on if I take Saturday off. To give you an idea, the gym has hour and a half lessons, and on Saturdays two hour lessons).

I am not super fit. I don't look like I belong in the "Douche-bag-I-build-muscle-and-take-steroids-because-I-like-looking-like-the-biggest-loser-with-all-the-time-in-the-world" classification. No.

I look pretty damn normal. Not overweight. Not Buff-Muscleson.

I have another fight this weekend. Saturday. (You may wish me luck. Or boo depending on who you support)

I am leaving for class in five minutes. Another hour and a half for struggling physically and mentally against a grown opponent.

I don't do this to be fit or loose weight (they are factors though).

I do this so I may stay healthy and prevent attacks, whether they are physical or metabolistical (ITS A DAMN WORD).

So what I guess I am trying to tell you is: Do a martial art.

It makes your mind sharper. You think quicker, more tactical.

It makes you healthy. You don't get sick that easy.

It makes you fit. You can swim without blushing and avoiding everyone's eyes (I seriously still struggle with this one. Weird....).

It doesn't matter if it is one class a week or ten classes a week. Research martial arts, look for gyms near you (dojo's for all you karate and judo nuts), and join up!

You won't regret it. And if you do, then find another style. Keep looking until you find something that works for you. And don't quit. It will be harder to start again, and it makes a bad self image. Tough it out, because it will be difficult for the first month or two. But the happiness or "enlightment" will come.

So go. Be a Valkyrie. Learn something. Get your butt kicked. Say something cocky. Get your butt kicked twice as hard. And then kick your opponent's butt (try not to count on Skulduggery saving you. How do I say this: He is scarce these days.)

___________________________________________________________________________________

If you bore through this doom and gloom ^, I applaud you.

If not, go soak your head.

But seriously. That stuff is from the heart.

Or the Rear Necked Choke. Not sure.

AND I AM NOT EVEN SORRY FOR THE LONG BLOG!

There is no Excuse.

There is no Excuse for the laziness I am experiencing.

I have barely written ANYTHING the last two weeks.

I am a disgrace to writers.

But in my defence, no one else seems to blog that much recently either.

Lynxia and Lavender are about it.

Needless to say, I am very disappointed in you; Thrust, Ink, Nix, Mist, L, (I cant scold THE MASTER publicly), Helena, Fanatic, and Luna.

(You may not use my own words against me. Insult me in some other way.)

But I have realized, that every post doesnt have to contain a story, now does it?

So here is me saying there is no Excuse...

FOR ALL YOUR LAZINESS'S!!!!!!

HAHAHAHAH IT'S A WORD!!!!

TRUST ME!!!!!

And one more Lord Vlaedr related joke....

Now THAT is a REAL man.

A REALLY STUPID MAN.

Never charge me with a bat.

NEVER.

(wow! I have 11 followers. wow! I am famous!)

Heya. Um..... 1866!

Mount and Blade. The best game ever made.

EVER.

If you don't know it... well....

Get to know it!

Its amazing.

Especially all the mods you can get for it.

1866 Western.

Star Wars.

Lord of the Rings.

ITS AMAZING.

Well my friends, its been a shortish journey, full of adventures and mayham.

But the time has come to say goodbye to Lord Vlaedr.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE VLAEDR.

But this is the last chapter of Part One.

Enjoy, and writhe with burning questions & mysterious mysteries.

Chapter Nine: Down Under....

Another two hours and a completely new car later, and they were back in business. It took them an hour to get to their location. This time, no explosives.

“So that was a lackey, as you call it, of Yslock?” Vlaedr whispered, his shotgun out and sweeping his immediate surroundings.

“Yes,” Skai replied, in the same hushed tone. His great-sword was in his hands, held ready. “But I am still not sure why he attacked us.”

They were in a small warehouse, in-land from the Sanctuary. The Sanctuary doctors had patched them up, and then Vlaedr and Skai were put in charge of extracting information out of the dying man. That information led them here.

“I thought you said that the prey, I mean, the man had told you that he worked for Yslock. So why did he attack us?” Vlaedr checked behind a crate and kept moving.

“Why don’t you listen? You were right there. He was even speaking to you. His words were: Yslock has something planned for you. Something horrible. Something that meant I had to try to stop him, or everyone was going to die. Including Yslock. And then he died. Remember that?” Skai scanned behind them, rotating his wrist muscles and the sword in small circles.

“I remember. Him dying, that is. I am horrible at socializing.” Vlaedr said, walking up to a blackened door. “Five dollars says that something interesting is behind this door.”

Skai smiled. “We are in Brazil, they don’t use dollars.” He opened the door, revealing a small, bare room that contained nothing but a rubber bone. Vlaedr frowned. Skai smiled wider. “You would have lost five dollars.”

Vlaedr walked into the room, Skai watching the door. The walls were cold, and hard, made from a strange material. Vlaedr frowned deeper. He walked towards the rubber bone. Something wasn’t right. Everything that had happened so far. Some element just didn’t fit.

He tried to link his thoughts. Skai. Burning sensation. Ring. Traps at every corner. Skai. Wounds. The dead.  Hotel burning. Skai....  Mysterious Skai. Never fighting, Skai. SKAI.

Vlaedr shouted, backing away from the bone, and turned towards Skai.

His sword was at his side, his smile growing wider, unnaturally wide. Then he laughed, as the door closed with a deep shudder. The laugh continued, amplified into the small room by speakers. A live image of Skai’s face was blown up against the wall, projected out of a small hole in the opposite wall.

“Poor, poor Vlaedr. So new to this world. So young. So strong. Sooooo naive.” The unnatural smile unnerved Vlaedr. The smile was too wide, the teeth too cat-like. He didn’t like cats. He hated them almost as much as Vampires.

Vlaedr growled, settling into a deep crouch. The laugh grew. “Growl all you want, my little pet, but you won’t be able to tear your way out of this prison. Those burnt marks on the door show that neither can anything get in. You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Fury boiled in Vlaedr. His eyes grew luminous. “How could you do this, Skai! I trusted you! I would have died for you!”

Yslock stopped laughing, still smiling and thoroughly amused by events. “I doubt that very much. I am not sure what can kill you. Yet.”

Vlaedr calmed down with great effort, thinking.

“My dear creature, you are so deluded. Haven’t you noticed by now? I would have thought you would be able to smell the blood difference between me and Vesalda.”

“I did. I assumed one of you was adopted.” Vlaedr said, glaring with all he had. His eyes started glowing brighter.

“Nope. First mistake, assuming. Never assume in this world. It will get you in nasty situations. Second mistake, thinking I am Skai.” And then, before Vlaedr’s eyes, Skai’s features twisted and melted. When the transformation was finished, a familiar face lay before Vlaedr’s eyes. It was Varoque.

Later, after being knocked out by gas, Vlaedr was sitting in his cell, in the corner. He didn’t boil with anger. He didn’t tear at the walls with his fury.

He relaxed.

He let nothing enter his mind, and he let nothing exit it. Everything he was, wanted to be, and everything at present, all swirled in a giant cauldron of thoughts. He examined everything, letting nothing pass through his gaze.

Through hours and days, he sat there. And thought. And meditated. And examined himself. And never did he move. Not once.

And so time passed. And with it came many strange things.

People came in and out of the cell. Prodded him. Cut him. Drew blood. Injected fluids. Hit him. Talked to him. Shouted at him.

And still he did not move. His mind swirled, passing through passages and hallways, carving paths into the rugged parts of his mind where he had never gone before.

And still time passed.

After exactly 5 days, 6 hours, 32 minutes and 17 seconds he found it. What he was looking for. His magic. His true self. What he really was.

He stood up, his eyes glowing, body surging with power he never knew he had. But he had found it. He gazed around his cell, eyes never dimming with their luminous green. They were going to stay that way.

Everything changed. No longer was he just a creation. But he was also something special. He had something else. Something that seemed rare in this  world.

He had found his power. He had examined himself, and found it. But he had also found his problem. The ring. It wasn’t made right. Varoque hadn’t made it right. Its magic was twisted. A rune off. A glyph wrong.

And that had awakened his magic. His OWN magic.

Something snapped. Something in him changed. Something that used to be his inner child. It grew and grew. Until it became hatred. Hatred for Varoque. Something dark.

And with that, Vlaedr had his purpose. Varoque. Scimitar Yslock. Whoever it was, they were going down. Hard. Beast style.

He had never felt like this before. Purposeful. Doing what he wanted. Not forced into something. Not being led.

He walked to where the door was. He had marked it once it had smoothly slid into the wall. He had marked so he could find it later. And he had marked it with all he had at that moment. He had marked with.... his urine.

He located the spot, ignoring the strong smell. He frowned and extended his paw-hand, lightly touching where the door was. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Then the door blew up.

He picked himself up, coughing in shock. Surely I am not THAT powerful, he thought, examining his claw-hand with new interest.

“Come on!” A female voice reached his ringing ears. He looked up. Vesalda stood there, another great-sword in her hands, this one more slender, but similar to Skai’s. “What are you waiting for?! We have to get out of here!”

So much for instantaneous power, he thought grumpily. He was out of the cell and next to her in a flash, his shotgun in his hands. She wrinkled her nose. “What is that smell?”

“Don’t ask,” he muttered as they ran, shooting or cutting down everything in their path. Vlaedr laughed, kicking and shouting with all he had at whatever tried to stop him. He didn’t even know what he was killing. He didn’t care. He was doing what he had been created for.

They made it out into the sunshine, a helicopter already lifting off. My ears must be still in shock. I didn’t hear it at all, he thought dejectedly. They jumped in as it lifted off, Vlaedr giving Vesalda a hand.

“It’s my private helicopter. Silenced.” She explained to his confused expression.

“What now? What do we do now?” He asked, staring down at the disappearing warehouse.

She smiled and patted Vlaedr’s thick arm.

“We go down under..... We need allies for this battle. We can’t do this with just the South American Sanctuary.”She smiled that beautiful smile again. “And thanks.”

“For what?” But she was already looking away, staring into the rising rays of the sun, preparing for the coming battles. And so Vlaedr joined her.

Pretty awesome right? When I started this chapter I had no idea how it was going to go. No idea how it would end. I LITERALLY surprised myself when I wound up writing the horrible twist. It was hilarious.

You had to be there.

Anyway, nothing is as it seems. This ending is actually just a beginning. I used part one to introduce Lord Vlaedr. I can now safely assume that you understand him pretty well.

I will start posting Part Two soon. The thing is, the internet STILL dies randomly. The wireless router is fried....

AND REMEMBER TO TELL EVERYONE YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS BLOG! COMMENTS = HELPFUL!