Posted by Kromey at 10:33pm Mar 20 '10So, I was thinking that I'd write a serialized story for the Blot - each month submitting a new chapter to be published in the Blot. Would people be interested in reading it?
The answer to that question could depend upon the content, so here's the first chapter:
(Warning: This chapter contains explicit violence that may be disturbing to some readers.)
(This is also a mostly-unpolished draft; if people are interested in reading this, I'd submit chapters that have been better revised, instead of first drafts like this one. In fact, the first Blot submission would be a revised version of this chapter; sounds cheap, perhaps, but it would give me a chance to start working ahead.)
Mage War
He boarded the bus just like any other passenger, dropping his tokens into the slot as he passed the driver. He wore an ankle-length brown trench coat, the over-sized collar turned up against the wind-driven rain outside. Atop his head he wore a wide-brimmed black leather hat; the rain water poured off of it and continued to run in thick rivulets down the back of his coat even after he got out of the rain. His face was clean-shaven, his jaw long and hard, his check bones very pronounced. His heavy leather boots splattered rain water in every direction with each heavy step as he made his way down the aisle of the bus.
At the back of the bus sat a small man, a young man in his late teens. He had thick black hair that seemed to have a life of its own, growing out in every which way and seemingly not even cut all to the same length. He wore a letterman jacket from one of the local high schools, and his ears sported the bright white ear buds of the year's most popular digital music player. The jerking nods and tapping right foot indicated that he was deeply immersed in whatever rhythm was being pumped directly into his ears; amazingly, despite his young appearance, his music was turned low enough that his neighbors could not hear a single note.
Trench coat sat down on the rear seat, which spanned the entire width of the city bus, just as the driver released the brake and began to smoothly accelerate and merge back into traffic. The man simply sat there, staring straight ahead, and said nothing. The young man, however, clearly noticed his new neighbor; he fumbled with his MP3 player for a brief moment, then sat up straight as he removed the ear buds, tucking the entire device into his pocket.
"You're him, aren't you?" asked the young man.
"Yes," replied Trench Coat evenly. His voice was deep and gravelly, and seemed to come more from the back of his throat than from his lips. Both men stared straight ahead, and their conversation was too soft for their other neighbors, the nearest of which sat 3 rows further up on the half-full bus.
"Do me a favor?" asked the young man.
"I don't owe you nuthin'" replied Trench Coat gruffly.
"We both know I can't stand up to you," responded the young man. "But I can put up enough to draw a lot of attention to us both." Trench Coat glanced quickly down at the young man out of the corner of his eye, then snapped his focus forward again. "Do me this favor and I won't resist."
"Do you think I'm a fool boy?" scoffed Trench Coat. "You're buying time for your fellow Gaians to back you up."
The young man nodded his head forward, toward a young-looking brunette sitting right behind the bus driver. "She's pregnant," he said simply, ignoring Trench Coat's question. "She doesn't know it yet, of course." Which is why I didn't notice it when I passed her, thought Trench Coat. "Wait for her to get off, then I won't resist."
Trench Coat scoffed once, then suddenly erupted into uproarious laughter. Several of the other passengers turned around to look briefly, before all returning to their private thoughts. It took him several minutes to regain his composure. "You Gaians are all the same," he said, his deep laughter still in his voice as he wiped a tear away from his eye. "Always watching out for your precious 'Natural Order' bullshit." He looked squarely at the young man, who met his gaze without wavering. Trench Coat could see the younger man's stern defiance and cold determination in his eyes; this young man wasn't bluffing, he'd pull out all the stops if he thought he had to.
Trench Coat shrugged. "Fair deal," he said simply as he returned his focus to stare straight ahead. What do I have to lose, anyway? he thought. The young man also returned his focus straight ahead, although he closed his eyes and his breathing began to slow.
Trench Coat didn't have long to wait, though. The next stop was the woman's; she stood up and, after briefly placing her hand on her stomach -- She must be getting her first inklings, thought Trench Coat -- she stepped quickly off the bus. So, too, did several other people; when the bus began moving again, it was down to only a quarter full.
The young man leaned his head back, exposing his neck. "Answer me one question first," he said as Trench Coat's right hand slid inside his coat.
His hand paused. "What question?"
"What is your name?"
"Hans."
"How do you expect to get away with this?" asked the young man.
"You only asked for one question," replied Hans as he pulled a large hunting knife from inside his coat.
"Fair enough," replied the young man, closing his eyes once more.
Trench Coat made one swift motion, plunging the knife cleanly and quickly between the young man's ribs, severing the major arteries from his heart in one smooth motion. The kid deserved that much, at least, for being so cooperative. He withdrew the knife slowly, watching as the red quickly stained the young man's white jacket. There was a start of a commotion near the front of the bus -- his act had not gone unnoticed. He knew it wouldn't, though, and quickly put into motion the second piece of his plan.
Trench Coat stood up and bent over the young man's body. He raised his knife, and began to repeatedly plunge it into the rapidly cooling corpse. He stabbed again and again, gaining momentum with each new attack and splattering blood all over the seat and his own jacket. As he continued, working himself into a wild frenzy, the rest of the bus sprang into a panicked frenzy.
The bus driver slammed on the brakes -- it took all of Trench Coat's control to stay standing -- and everyone began scrambling for the exits, trying desperately to escape from the lunatic at the rear of the bus. Trench Coat ignored the stampeding passengers and turned his knife's focus to the young man's neck. The [private] slipped easily through the flesh of his throat and severed his trachea before sliding between the vertebrae of his neck. He began working the [private] to the side, then, feeling it cut through muscle and snap apart tendons, until it suddenly sprang free with a sickening shlorp! and a giant splatter of blood. The replaced the knife in the throat and began working it the other way; he had to take hold of the young man's hair to keep his head from falling to the side, but he managed to finish severing the head and pulled it free of the young man's body.
Trench Coat was now alone on the bus. The cops would be there in short order, though. That would put into motion the third piece to his plan. In the calm he had now, he carefully wiped the flesh, bone chips, and blood from the [private] on the young man's coat. He then replaced it in the sheath inside his coat.
The answer to that question could depend upon the content, so here's the first chapter:
(Warning: This chapter contains explicit violence that may be disturbing to some readers.)
(This is also a mostly-unpolished draft; if people are interested in reading this, I'd submit chapters that have been better revised, instead of first drafts like this one. In fact, the first Blot submission would be a revised version of this chapter; sounds cheap, perhaps, but it would give me a chance to start working ahead.)
Mage War
He boarded the bus just like any other passenger, dropping his tokens into the slot as he passed the driver. He wore an ankle-length brown trench coat, the over-sized collar turned up against the wind-driven rain outside. Atop his head he wore a wide-brimmed black leather hat; the rain water poured off of it and continued to run in thick rivulets down the back of his coat even after he got out of the rain. His face was clean-shaven, his jaw long and hard, his check bones very pronounced. His heavy leather boots splattered rain water in every direction with each heavy step as he made his way down the aisle of the bus.
At the back of the bus sat a small man, a young man in his late teens. He had thick black hair that seemed to have a life of its own, growing out in every which way and seemingly not even cut all to the same length. He wore a letterman jacket from one of the local high schools, and his ears sported the bright white ear buds of the year's most popular digital music player. The jerking nods and tapping right foot indicated that he was deeply immersed in whatever rhythm was being pumped directly into his ears; amazingly, despite his young appearance, his music was turned low enough that his neighbors could not hear a single note.
Trench coat sat down on the rear seat, which spanned the entire width of the city bus, just as the driver released the brake and began to smoothly accelerate and merge back into traffic. The man simply sat there, staring straight ahead, and said nothing. The young man, however, clearly noticed his new neighbor; he fumbled with his MP3 player for a brief moment, then sat up straight as he removed the ear buds, tucking the entire device into his pocket.
"You're him, aren't you?" asked the young man.
"Yes," replied Trench Coat evenly. His voice was deep and gravelly, and seemed to come more from the back of his throat than from his lips. Both men stared straight ahead, and their conversation was too soft for their other neighbors, the nearest of which sat 3 rows further up on the half-full bus.
"Do me a favor?" asked the young man.
"I don't owe you nuthin'" replied Trench Coat gruffly.
"We both know I can't stand up to you," responded the young man. "But I can put up enough to draw a lot of attention to us both." Trench Coat glanced quickly down at the young man out of the corner of his eye, then snapped his focus forward again. "Do me this favor and I won't resist."
"Do you think I'm a fool boy?" scoffed Trench Coat. "You're buying time for your fellow Gaians to back you up."
The young man nodded his head forward, toward a young-looking brunette sitting right behind the bus driver. "She's pregnant," he said simply, ignoring Trench Coat's question. "She doesn't know it yet, of course." Which is why I didn't notice it when I passed her, thought Trench Coat. "Wait for her to get off, then I won't resist."
Trench Coat scoffed once, then suddenly erupted into uproarious laughter. Several of the other passengers turned around to look briefly, before all returning to their private thoughts. It took him several minutes to regain his composure. "You Gaians are all the same," he said, his deep laughter still in his voice as he wiped a tear away from his eye. "Always watching out for your precious 'Natural Order' bullshit." He looked squarely at the young man, who met his gaze without wavering. Trench Coat could see the younger man's stern defiance and cold determination in his eyes; this young man wasn't bluffing, he'd pull out all the stops if he thought he had to.
Trench Coat shrugged. "Fair deal," he said simply as he returned his focus to stare straight ahead. What do I have to lose, anyway? he thought. The young man also returned his focus straight ahead, although he closed his eyes and his breathing began to slow.
Trench Coat didn't have long to wait, though. The next stop was the woman's; she stood up and, after briefly placing her hand on her stomach -- She must be getting her first inklings, thought Trench Coat -- she stepped quickly off the bus. So, too, did several other people; when the bus began moving again, it was down to only a quarter full.
The young man leaned his head back, exposing his neck. "Answer me one question first," he said as Trench Coat's right hand slid inside his coat.
His hand paused. "What question?"
"What is your name?"
"Hans."
"How do you expect to get away with this?" asked the young man.
"You only asked for one question," replied Hans as he pulled a large hunting knife from inside his coat.
"Fair enough," replied the young man, closing his eyes once more.
Trench Coat made one swift motion, plunging the knife cleanly and quickly between the young man's ribs, severing the major arteries from his heart in one smooth motion. The kid deserved that much, at least, for being so cooperative. He withdrew the knife slowly, watching as the red quickly stained the young man's white jacket. There was a start of a commotion near the front of the bus -- his act had not gone unnoticed. He knew it wouldn't, though, and quickly put into motion the second piece of his plan.
Trench Coat stood up and bent over the young man's body. He raised his knife, and began to repeatedly plunge it into the rapidly cooling corpse. He stabbed again and again, gaining momentum with each new attack and splattering blood all over the seat and his own jacket. As he continued, working himself into a wild frenzy, the rest of the bus sprang into a panicked frenzy.
The bus driver slammed on the brakes -- it took all of Trench Coat's control to stay standing -- and everyone began scrambling for the exits, trying desperately to escape from the lunatic at the rear of the bus. Trench Coat ignored the stampeding passengers and turned his knife's focus to the young man's neck. The [private] slipped easily through the flesh of his throat and severed his trachea before sliding between the vertebrae of his neck. He began working the [private] to the side, then, feeling it cut through muscle and snap apart tendons, until it suddenly sprang free with a sickening shlorp! and a giant splatter of blood. The replaced the knife in the throat and began working it the other way; he had to take hold of the young man's hair to keep his head from falling to the side, but he managed to finish severing the head and pulled it free of the young man's body.
Trench Coat was now alone on the bus. The cops would be there in short order, though. That would put into motion the third piece to his plan. In the calm he had now, he carefully wiped the flesh, bone chips, and blood from the [private] on the young man's coat. He then replaced it in the sheath inside his coat.