Greetings everyone! This is my fantasy story, its not a fanfic in anyway, yet I'm sure there are relations in some places. I started doing this on the side, and seeing how busy varsity is at the moment, am looking for advice on how to make it better.
The story may seem a bit weird at first but I promise it gets better! I try to focus on the action, as in descriptions, but what I really want to know is whether its gripping or not.
So please let me know if you want to see more and what characters you guys find the most interesting. Burns are welcome, heck, you can even swear at me(if its allowed :P)! However, please explain why you feel that the description was wrong or not good enough.
CHAPTER 1 Monday?
Before Skewer could open his eyes, the smell of the surrounding bodies woke him up. You would think by this point that he would be used to it. Blinking repeatedly did little as he was encased in complete darkness. Somebody hated him, and he couldn’t wait to get him back. Sitting up, he rubbed the matted copper brown hair out of his face.
“Fuck sake”, he had heard the Watchers use that phrase before and every morning it somehow seemed appropriate to utter it. With a face that even Watchers would consider inappropriate, he realized that he had some time left before the Bell and had every intention of kicking the fatigue-ness in his body’s ass, however he also realised that someone had yet again stolen his blanket during the night. Not that it was his really, but it had taken him a while to put that one together from pieces of cloth.
Still not really able to think, with cotton around his brain he began to fumble in the dark. Finding some water, which had condensed off the wall, he washed his face. Now about that blanket…wait, Skewer tensed up. Seconds later, the Bell sounded, sending vibrations through the room. Not envying the resulting groans and grunts, he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, waiting for the inevitable.
Slowly a line of first white then, as it widened, blood red light appeared, flooding the room. The 30-some occupants were revealed in varying stages of waking up, all of them looked bad. If there was one thing Skewer hated, it was waking up. There must be some way to escape the tyranny of waking up. While wishfully thinking of not waking up at all as the best solution, he noticed that there were a few in his block missing, he pieced together that the Watchers had had a meal last night.
Stepping out the door before anyone else, he joined the throng of humanoids moving to the workroom. Being humanoid is basically the only real trait that all the slaves shared, some had blue skin, webbed hands, tails, broken wings or even no eyes. However, most seemed to be about human height with two arms and legs, normally.
Walking along the rust coloured corridor, Skewer looked up and, as per usual, the Watchers were watching the entire thing from above them. Their large frames supported by a mesh of twisted black metal railing, which joined together to form a strange floor that had holes in it. Skewer wondered briefly what it was like to walk on a floor with holes in it. The Watchers themselves were larger than the slaves by a good few feet. With black armour, rusted in parts where blood had splattered, that covered most of their body, the only visible part of their body were wicked grey skinned maws from their helmets and one eye slot. The real kicker was the glowing red eye that seemed to follow you around the room.
“Hey Skewer”, feigning surprise Skewer turned around with a look of canned horror on his face,
“Aaah! Damnit Jagged, how many times have I told you not to sneak around with that Watcher face of yours!” Skewer looked at the slave who was talking, this one however was different, he had a collar around his neck. To finish it off he had blue hair, long pointed ears, as well as a viscous scar that completely rearranged his looks. This, combined with the collar, insured that Jagged had to compensate by creating some imaginary friends.
“Just, fuck off.” Muttered Jagged, as he joined him.
“Ola oaks” another slave with a collar said as he jogged to catch them. This one had brown hair with slightly less pointed ears, a tall and heavy build, intense brown eyes and what seemed to be a permanent bit of stubble on his chin.
“I hate that guy!” said Jagged, while looking at Skewer and pretending to ignore Flick.
“Quiet you.” Flick, who, while not pretending to ignore Jagged, paced himself next to Skewer.
“It seems I am to be further punished by your guys continued existence.” Skewer prompted sarcastically, while looking up and pulling a sneer.
“Shutup” came the combined resigned response.
Moving through the narrowing corridor, they stepped over a threshold into the brown filtered light of a much larger room that was dubbed the Work Room. Not that any work was done here, but this was where, everyday, individual work groups were assigned tasks. Failure to finish meant being invited to dinner amongst the Watchers. The room also had a large bolted metal gate many times the height of anyone on the one side and, on the other side, a twisted staircase with red drapes on the alongside walls Stopping for a few seconds, Skewer brought his hand under chin, while trying to decide what sauce he thought being served in would be the best.
Near Skewer, who was only vaguely aware of what was going on around him, Jagged was having fun by scaring the other slaves, occasionally pulling faces at some of them. Normally, Collared slaves were treated differently by other slaves, but Jagged had also developed the hobby of acting weird.
“Jagged, stop it.” with a shrug, Jagged came to stand along side Skewer.
It may sound stupid that they were treated differently just because of a collar. However, the collars around their necks were large metal bands with runes along that seemed to hurt the eye if looked at too closely and composed of three rings, each one on the inside of the previous, each with a elongated red, green or blue gem encrusted on the edge. Despite numerous attempts, none of them could be removed, not even tarnished. Skewer slept with his neck in a puddle of water for two weeks before figuring that one out. As everyone else avoided them, they eventually became friends, eventually. Although Skewer could not seem to remember where they had met.
“We’re moving” stated Flick, with his head slightly forward and his eyes focused ahead. Shortly afterwards, the throng of people began to move. As they progressed, they eventually saw that Slig was delegating the tasks again. Slig had shoulder length, smoothed back, black hair, a constant grin, pointed ears like Jagged and absolutely no common sense. He was a testament to everyone, cause if he could survive, anyone could. Also, like them, he was Collared. Slig was however quite smart, in a very sadistic way, hence him organizing the duties.
One of the Watchers shoved Slig, obviously filing a complaint about the speed. Slig looked backed and made a rude gesture at the Watcher for a few seconds before his head filed a complaint with the Watcher’s fist. After righting himself, he smiled with blood stained teeth at the Watcher before returning to work. He always said that they could never afford to lose him, maybe he was right.
Stepping up to receive his task, Skewer shook Slig’s wrist while passing a piece of meat that served as the medium for negotiations.
“I will see you for quarry duty, p242897321” grinning again, Slig looked up and down a piece of paper and made a mark.
Stepping down, Skewer, followed by Jagged and Flick, made his way to, what he hoped, would be an easy day.
CHAPTER 2 Missing pieces
Skewer enjoyed going to the quarry, it meant that he would have to walk past the Great Gate. The Great Gate was apparently the only real way to get in or out the Apothecary. The gate itself was an exceptionally large rusted steel door that constantly had guards on it, and in the very long time, Skewer couldn’t really remember just how long, he had been here he could not recall anyone ever escaping.
As they walked along, the other slaves went off to the vats, where they would sort vials of acid and other corrosive substances. The furnaces, used to heat certain chemicals, provided a constant yellow glow that blended with the green colour of the liquids in the room, giving off a constantly flickering neon green glow through the room’s doors. Neither Skewer nor Jagged liked vats duty and, much to everyone’s surprise, would rather shovel waste than do it.
Skewers reminisce was cut short when, with a loud scream, four slaves made a run for the Great Gate, one of them brandishing a broken rusted weapon one of the Watchers must have discarded, probably on purpose. For a moment all fatigue and depression was forgotten, quaking before the savage fury of the oppressed, for a moment. The Watchers made short work of the first three slaves, a wicked axe cleaving one of the humanoids clean in half while the others lost a few limbs first. Watchers liked to take their time. The last slave, snarling expression changing in an instance to one of absolute terror, changed direction instantly, tripping at the same time, falling down to her knees, at Skewers feet.
The last slave was a woman with brown oily shoulder length hair and white skin, only broken by bird like clawed feet, and scared stumps on her back where her wings must have been sawed off. She also had surprising large brown coloured eyes which complimented her round face.
During the entire confrontation, Skewer felt a growing urge. Feeling weird all over, his face became hot and his arm muscles contorted. Twisting his insides, this feeling slowly overtook him, however Skewer wasn’t entirely sure what this feeling wanted him to do, hence him standing, stunned, throughout the entire ordeal.
“P, please…help me” Skewers mind snapped back to the present bringing his eyes back to the woman at his feet. She was now staring at him, brown irises pleading, the half formed tears glassing them over, softening the other features of her face, her lips slightly parted. Before he could think, his hand left his side and moved to help her up, the feeling from before more accurately described now as a raging butterfly. It felt as if he could hear his blood rushing through his body. Everything had been simplified, she needed help so Skewer would help her.
Suddenly the feeling was gone, as if it had never been there and Skewers hand fell limb again. Skewer quickly turned his face as the blood from her severed neck splashed over him. One of the Watchers stooped down to pick up the body of the slave, bringing his head level with Skewers, his grin and bad breath revealing exactly what he had planned for the body.
Suddenly feeling really drained Skewer turned to look away from the gruesome sight. Jagged appeared to be like-wise stunned while Flick was taking deep rugged breaths. A hand clasped his shoulder, grounding Skewer back in reality again.
“Come on boet, lets go.” Skewer nodded slowly to Slig’s advice. Having finished, he had run to catch up and had witnessed the end of the grim escape.
Things slowly began to pick up as they walked away, the eventual rhythmic ding of work drowning out the sight as if it had never happened.
With a grin, Slig first looked back and then to the rest of group.
“Well I think that’s the new record, 20 metres from the door. Damn, I had money on 30.”
long long long long post...don't have patience to read it.
If you can't be bothered to read it, don't. Don't post about how you can't be bothered to read it though, cause that doesn't help anyone does it?
Anyway, very well written, interesting story and good interaction. Wanna see more stuff.
Hey, thanks for the post Elcura.
Just some things I thought I should mention. I do swear alot, so if you're underage or whatever nows the time to go back :P . Also, there are some colloquial words you guys might not get, so heres a thesaurus:
Bru or boet = brother or friend,
shot or cheers = thank you
Not that aside, heres the next chapter!
CHAP 3 Resurfacing
Arriving at the entrance to the quarry, which was simply a gaping cavern that seemingly ended where the red steel floor began, Slig spoke a few rumbling words, giving one of the Watchers a bundle of meat, and the guards let them through.
Skewer grabbed a torch to illuminate the dark passages ahead and proceeded in. Everyone had gotten the drill down quite well. The Watchers would leave them to do their work, as long as it was enough, and the meat would insure that they weren’t bothered. The thing is, Skewer and the rest of his collared friends could somehow do far more and for far longer than a normal slave. Realising this, Skewer came up with the plan to work in the quarry, the place Watchers liked the least due to the narrow tunnels. If they worked hard, pushing trolleys and swinging picks and spades, they could get the job done in a matter of hours while other slaves would have to work the entire day. Their free time was mostly spent relaxing and recovering strength. As you can imagine, they were of the oldest slaves.
“So what do you think is out there? I mean the Watchers aren’t the most talkative bunch and I’ve heard some say that its worse while others say its paradise. What do you think? Huh?” even after so many years Jagged still chattered like a newbie. It also meant Skewer had almost gotten used to it, almost.
Finishing up Skewer and Jagged went to join Slig and Flick who would most likely be done by now. Jagged’s smaller build meant he got the work done a little slower. Flick and Slig were already playing a game of stones, a game Slig taught himself while watching the guards.
“Ah Speck! It’s a good thing you’re here, Flick’s stones are thinking of taking up ballet.”
Flick smirked at Slig’s comment then stood up, yawning and stretching.
Skewer silently walked over and said “Well allow me to show you life then.”
“Listen Skewer, there’s something down the new tunnels I want to check out.” Flick’s eyes had that far off look that usually meant that he was deep in thought.
“Yeah sure, be careful.” Skewer said off-handedly while setting up his stones.
“The cheapness wins again!” Skewer declared triumphantly, having just used one of the dickest plays ever conceived.
“I am afraid there is nothing left to teach you, your douchness is now a match for my own.” Slig commented with a smirk, “hey, where’s Flick?”
“Who cares, probably staring at rocks or something.”
Ignoring Jagged, Skewer started to walk toward the tunnel that Flick went down earlier with every intention of kicking his ass if they were late for the Mess. Suddenly Flick stumbled into the light of their torch, sweat and black dirt making vein-like lines on his face and wheezing as if he had just run from a Watcher.
“S,s,Skewer!” he said, his usual calm demeanor forgotten.
“What happened to you bru?!” Skewer ran forward and supported his friend.
“No, no time, come follow me, all of you.” With that Flick turned around and made for the tunnel again.
“Looks like someone’s been inhaling too much acid.” Jagged sniped in.
“Wait, its getting late and you look beat, whatever it is, it can wait for tomorrow.” Slig put a reassuring hand on Flick’s shoulder.
“NO! Its always tomorrow, the voice, it calls me even now…”
Skewer, realizing that his friend was adamant, decided on a compromise.
“Okay listen, we’ll go take a look at whatever it is, but we have to hurry. Come on you guys I don’t feel like a whipping.”
Slig had spent a lot of time in the mine, just walking around and working. Also, compared to other slaves, Slig didn’t scare easily, this partially because he couldn’t care less and partially because he had spent a lot of time with their tormentors, the Watchers. They were actually quite stupid, strong though and useful. However, when his hand touched the walls of the tunnel it sent shivers up his arm, almost as if he had touched ice. Also, it felt as if his stomach was slowly sinking down, beads of sweat ran down his face, it wasn’t hot. Passing it off as fatigue, Slig caught up to the rest of the party.
“This had better not be like the time you stabbed yourself in the toe with a shovel and said it was ghosts to save face.” Slig grinned.
Flick whirled round on Slig, his eyes wide open and on fire.
“I told you that..!” Flick paused, “No, now is not the time, we’re almost there.”
Slig had never seen such an emotion before, it was completely different to Flick’s normal indifference and Slig decided it would be better to keep quiet. It almost seemed that Flick was going to hit him. Slig cast his eyes in Skewer’s direction and saw that he had been just as surprised as he had.
Walking on ahead, a dim green glow emanating from around the corner became evident, making Slig think of the acid pits.
“Ummm guys, I just remembered that I’m allergic to green light, I’ll see you guys when you get back…” everyone carried on walking, not really listening to Jagged.
“What in the abyss is an allergic?” Skewers comment got everyone thinking.
“I don’t know…” Jagged’s reply trailed off.
“Great, chicken shit and brains. Makes you understand the Watchers appetite.” Slig felt quite smug about that one but Skewer’s stern look quelled further quips.
“Okay, I don’t know what’s going on but lets get this over with.” Skewer said.
Slig’s nod turned into a frown when he couldn’t see Flick ahead anymore.
Jogging to catch up, Slig felt that feeling again, it ebbed along with the green light making him feel sick.
That feeling from earlier began to grate him.
I don’t know what the hell this is but it’s beginning to piss me off. Why in the Abyss are we following this guy, Skewer should know that Flick has lost the plot. We’re going to get whipped or eaten at this rate. I would love to give them a taste of their own medicine, I’d first rip of their off arms and burn their tongues off…
Suddenly strange thoughts came into Slig’s mind, in many scenarios saw himself standing before the Watchers and tearing them to pieces, quite literally. He had never had such violent thoughts before and while he found it a little disturbing, he still caught himself grinning.
What’s going on here, I’m gonna kick Flick’s as… whoa.
The large cavern in which he stood had many stalagmites and stalactites protruding from the cavern, but that wasn’t what grabbed his attention. A large pool of red glowing liquid covered most of the area. This pool was the source of Slig’s fear, of that he was sure. Now that he was staring it in the face, his anger was reaching a peek, he found his breathing was coming in gasps.
WHEN I FIND OUT WHATS GOING ON HERE I’M GOING TO…Jagged?
Lying down on the floor, Jagged looked like he had simply crumbled moments earlier. Also near and out cold, Skewer’s brow crunched up as if he were deep in thought. Slig suddenly feeling very tired, found that he couldn’t get up from kneeling next to Jagged. Everything began to blur, the last image began to fade, that of Flick with his one hand touching the red liquid.