Time for a new novel, a new story to tell.
Years have passed, centuries even. Morrigan had an annual custom to come and visit the old willow. There was no trace of Phileph’s body under it, as if she had never put the historian there. Only Morrigan, the grass and the creatures that lived in it knew about the corpse that had decayed there. The Basic kept a watch over the tree, making sure that no human ever came across the body, and disturbed Richard’s slumber by calling the authorities, other people, media representatives, and of those who made a living out of investigating others’ business.
Jenny had dreams full of fears and nightmarish images. At one moment, she suddenly sat in her bed, looking at her room in the dark, but not recognizing it. She had an impression that she was in a long hallway. The place seemed familiar, but Jenny felt lost and frightened. She wanted out, she wanted to breathe fresh air, but the exit was nowhere to be seen. As if in a trance, she got out of the bed and started wandering the room, looking for a way out. But everything around her was covered with darkness. She noticed a window, below the curtains and rushed to pull them. Jenny pulled the curtains, and screamed in pain, and the sunlight hit her through the window. She fell on the floor, and searched for the nearest shadow to hide. Managing to roll to the wall next to the window, she found a place of safety in the dark. The blast of light woke her up. She felt her skin was burnt, but the pain was vanishing quickly. Jenny looked around again and realized where she was. She decided to use her speed, grabbed the end of the curtain, and quickly ran to the other side of the window, blocking the sunlight from the room once more. Jenny noticed that she had been alone all along only when Nexus appeared at the door. He saw the fading scars on her face and in just a blink stood before her to make sure that she was alright. Continue reading
Although Richard protested against leaving him alone in a city he was not familiar with, Constance had to remove herself from him. She assured him, that even if Nexus was in Istanbul already, he would not attack him, because he needed the information about the stake’s location. Dead historian would be no advantage in the negotiations with Morrigan. She wanted to see her home once more. She was too dependent of it. But, she was fast and she could return to Istanbul in a day’s time. Continue reading
The cold weather bothered Nikolaos. They rode all night, and he barely had some sleep. The saddle was hard, and soon he started to feel pain at the bottom of his back and in his thighs. He could not wait to reach the place his father was talking about, but who knows where it was. He heard about the city of Sirmium, but he had never visited anything outside Rome. Maybe it is just behind the next hill, maybe it will take them two weeks of riding to get there. Apparently, they were closer to the latter case. Surprisingly, they did not encounter any serious problems during their journey. There was no trouble, no attacks from the wild tribes, lurking from the darkness of the woods. They were fine, physically. But, the closer they were to Sirmium, the more nervous Georgios was. Continue reading
It took him less than ten minutes to put the body on his shoulders, sneak out of the mansion, and reach the riverbank. Philomela was like a feather. He closed her eyes after he murdered her. Like that, she seemed asleep. The river washed his hands and shortly, the water in front of Basic turned red from the blood. He wrapped her corpse in a dark cloth, which soaked the remaining blood dripping from the wound. Then, he tightened it with a rope, and left the end free, so he could tie it around a rock. With little effort, he pushed Philomela’s body into the river. It didn’t sink right away, but slowly disappeared from the surface. Soon, there was nothing except circle waves moving away from the place where the body was thrown into the water. Aranth sat down and watched the water for some time. Lavinia will be pleased. Her order was done, her wishes fulfilled. It’s not going to change anything. Her husband will have affairs, she has an ongoing affair, but one life was taken because her pride was hurt. The Basic did not try to justify himself. He was guilty as much as the governor’s wife. His only hoped was that she would change, once she gets away from all that made her depressed and upset. The Basic remembered the problem that Castor presented in front of him. What if he stops loving Lavinia? He didn’t need thoughts of that kind. The moment was wrong. If he had any doubts, he should have discovered them earlier, not now, when almost half of the work is done.
Aranth went back to his mansion, and entered like a thief, silent as possible, sticking to the shadows. He had to change his clothes. The Basic could hear that the party was in its full swing, and that apparently no one missed him. Nobody noticed that wasn’t there. Suddenly, he heard steps in the corridor, outside the room he was hiding in. The steps were loud and fierce. The owner of the feet stopped in front of the room and held his breath. The Basic went to the door and opened them abruptly to surprise the one was standing and waiting. Continue reading
“Because of you, Richard, I have travelled all the ages of this world. You are the light so sorely needed. You are the reward for all the centuries of solitude. That is why I shall ask you. Will you kill me?”
The Chronicles is not the first novel I have written, but it was the first one that made me feel like a true writer. However, I was 20 when I wrote it and needless to say, it is not my best work. It is not good work, to be honest. Still, I wanted to put this novel on my blog, in its original, unedited version. Just to be a reminder of my beginnings. Those were certainly clumsy beginnings, but for me as a writer they were dear beginnings nevertheless.
Pity, for so many lives to suffer. It was dark, and at the centre of the deck, Castor and Aranth were piling the bodies they’ve drained. They brought all the torches they could find, and placed them around the bodies. They’ve started a fire on the deck, and slowly moved backwards, as the flames were spreading. The fire was in their eyes, and they felt the heat upon their skin. The ship was slowly consumed by the orange beast, and finally, Castor and Aranth jumped into the water. The sun had just set, and the night ate everything that was in front of it. Aranth felt the water cooling down his body from the heat to which he was exposed just seconds ago. Castor was eager to swim as fast as he could, always being vigilant, and looking in the direction of east, expecting the light of death to appear. Luckily, his vampire nature provided him with great strength, and great speed. He rushed through the waves, breaking them with such force. The drops of salty water were scattered around Castor and the Basic. It’s hard to perceive such velocity, and such power. If humans were watching them from the shores, they wouldn’t see much. Their bodies were hidden behind the waves they produced. Continue reading
This weekend, I am taking part in Weekend Writing Warriors event, which is an amazing way for your stories to be let into the world. There, you can share between 8 and 10 sentences of your work, every Saturday and Sunday.
If office jobs are good for anything it is that they can be a fountain of inspiration for aspiring writers. Perhaps it comes from apathy of the same motions every day oozing from the walls, or people who find sending reports to be the task that keeps the world together. This is especially evident during the slowest hours, when nothing is actually happening and one has an unfortunate opportunity to face with all the life choices made thus far. Then, one starts to observe the circumstances and personalities around and plots a way those could be actually useful to one’s future. And so, words fall in line, pages write on their own, and eventually the story is formed in its full glory.
It was a lovely dry, but cold Monday morning in November, a beginning that all great adventures should have. One half of the building, the one with residents, was still asleep, while the other one, with the offices, was waking up and stretching, washing its face and turning the lights on. Quiet voices were heard in the hallways and offices. Steam was rising in the kitchen from the coffee and tea cups. She arrived about five minutes before the start of office hours, which was probably the earliest she could be at work. She greeted her co-workers and turned on her computer.
This is an excerpt of 10 sentences from a story I have recently started writing inspired, as you can assume, by the greatness of my current workplace. At the moment, I am planning it to be a shorter novel, or maybe even a longer short story, I haven’t decided yet. Regardless, here is a part of it and I hope you enjoy it, along with other content on my blog.
“Here, some wine,” Castor said, as Aranth sat at his kitchen table.
“Thank you. So, can you help me?” the Basic replied and took the glass offered to him by the vampire.
“No one has ever done that before. To say it’s dangerous would be an understatement. And for what? For a human?” Castor replied.
“Don’t forget that you were once just like her. You were lucky to be turned,” Aranth reminded him.
“My change was a matter of circumstances, it came naturally. Besides, I didn’t ask for it. And you should know that when we turn, our human side remains dead, and the vampire one is born. What you are trying to do is perform the change, intentionally. That is what worries me, and that’s what is wrong in your plan. If she dies, and she becomes a vampire by a chance, like all of my kind did, then I would be fine with it. You want to turn her yourself. It doesn’t work that way,” the vampire said and sat next to Aranth. He too had a glass in his hand, only his was full of blood.
“There must be a way. Anything is possible, Castor. You said no one has done that. Maybe, no one has ever really attempted it. I’m ready, and willing to do whatever it takes. I have to save her,” the Basic said. Continue reading