Shadowdrake27
Just an amateur writer who is trying to improve and too lazy to write longer stories.
Shadowdrake27
Just an amateur writer who is trying to improve and too lazy to write longer stories.
Just an amateur writer who is trying to improve and too lazy to write longer stories.
Just an amateur writer who is trying to improve and too lazy to write longer stories.
As news spreads about a disaster like a fire And the situation grows more and more dire She sits awake thousands of miles away Worried about what others need that day Nothing can turn off her mind It’s the way she was designed
There is nothing I can do to help her tonight Though nothing would bring me more delight For my brain is wired in much the same way Trying to figure out the perfect thing to say Because it’s her I want to aide I guess it’s the way I was made
Helping the world is a problem simply to large For any solution of which I could be in charge I need someone to love with all of my heart Who makes me feel loved even when apart Which is why I have started to fall For someone beautiful and small
There’s room in her heart for literally everyone When it’s all directed at me I feel like I’ve won She is kind, strong, hard working and smart With sparking brown eyes and huge heart I think about her smiling every single day When she’s in my arms I want her to stay
We can talk about anything without fear She makes the gloomy days seem clear Yet there are times she needs to herself I also recognize those times for myself Sometimes it’s better to be on your own For it’s true that great minds think alone
But great minds also think alike as they say I can relate and understand without dismay
Gary laughed awkwardly, looking around at the strange collection of people from all walks of life. He did not recognize anyone, nor did he remember how he got there. An Asian man nearby spoke to him in a launguage Gary didn’t recognize. He heard a dark skinned woman call out in Spanish, but he couldn’t understand what she said.
Then, a platform raised from the ground with a lone figure standing on it. This figure carried several large knifes, an oversized hunting rifle and a few pistols with ammunition scattered around the platform. It wore a mask that was made of metal with two slits for eyes that were too narrow to see into.
The announcement was made in English, but Gary could see everyone in the crowds eyes widen when the platform raised. There was a moment of silence before chaos broke out. People ran from the city square screaming and ducking into alleys along the deserted city streets that Gary didn’t recognize.
Taking off in a random direction, he darted around a few corners and put the most distance between himself and the armed figure as possible. When he figured roughly forty-five seconds had elapsed, Gary ducked into a building along the street and ran up a flight of stairs. Ducking into an office that had the door slightly ajar, Gary heard the distant crack of gunshots and knew the ninety seconds was up.
When the gunshots died down, Gary could hear his heart beat as if a drum were being playing behind his ears. His breath was ragged and heavy, but it was otherwise silent. Until the screaming started.
It sounded uncomfortably close, as if the terrified people screaming we’re all around Gary. Panic gripped him as he covered his ears and closed his eyes, then the gunshots shook the building. The large rifle fired rapidly and the screams grew louder. Groans of agony filled the air, and then several voices fell silent.
Gary muttered to himself incoherently, unable to move or think. He gasped and ducked under a desk that completely ubstructed him from view as the door to the office creaked open. Shaking, Gary managed to lay on the floor and peek under the side of the desk to see the entire room ahead of him.
The Asian man and Hispanic woman Gary had seen earlier crept into the room. Their eyes were wide as they scanned the room and tip-toed across the floor. Suddenly, a blood curdling horrific cry escaped their lips as they turned around.
Several gunshots shook the room and pierced Gary’s ears. Holding his hands to his head, Gary managed to muffled a groan by biting his own arm. Moments later, he saw a pair of combat boots March across the room from the opposite direction from where he was facing. They stopped briefly over the two people that now laid motionless on the cold marble floor, fired one more shot into each of them, and continued through the open door the pair had entered through.
Choking back a scream, Gary started sobbing. He stared at the pile of splayed limbed and wide eyes that sat on the floor in front of him. “Who could do that to someone?” he thought to himself as he lay shaking on the hard floor motionless. Unable to move or look away, Gary just laid there sobbing until he drifted into an uneasy slumber.
Waking with a jolt, Gary cried out in alarm. He held his hands up in protection, but there was no one with him. He was no longer on the floor of the office building either. He looked around, hoping that everything that he rememebered was a terrible dream. Promising to never play Call of Duty again, he scanned his surroundings.
He was in a bed, but it was not his own. Rather, it appeared to be in an underground room with a single lightbulb hanging from the carved rock ceiling over a dirt floor. However, Gary couldn’t see the entire room, only a narrow band in front of himself as if he were wearing blinders.
As Gary turned to look around the room more, pain shot through his head, which felt heavy and stiff. Reaching up to his face, Gary felt a cold metallic mask that was secured to his head with a lightweight helmet. He couldn’t see it, but he imagined that he knew exactly what it looked like and gasped as his mind processed what he was seeing.
Stumbling out of the bed, he shuffled across the room to a metal platform that resembled an industrial elevator. It was littered with guns, stacks of ammunition, knives, swords, axes and armor. There was even a set of combat boots that triggered horrific memories of before Gary fell asleep.
“You have 90 seconds to prepare, seeker. If you do not kill 50 people, you die. Good luck,” a robotic voice blared out of a metal speaker on the platform. Gary’s shoulders slumped as he stared at the platform.
However, he jumped on the platform and began to strap on the boots and armor as a digital clock began to count down. He managed to pick up a large hunting rifle, shove two pistols into holsters in the armor and strap a few knives to himself before the platform started to raise slowly to ground level.
Staring at a crowd people from all walks of life, He did not recognize anyone. Several people shouted all at once in languages he couldn’t recognize. Then the screaming started as people ran and ducked into alleys in the same city he didn’t recognize. Gary’s heart dropped as he watched them scramble away from him through the metallic slits in his mask, realizing how easy it would be to start slaughtering them in their panicked state in 3… 2… 1…
My grandmother always told me If you aren’t learning you are dying It’s something I’m always applying So continued growth is a guarantee
My grandmother always told me That we have to be kind to others Of all orientations sizes and colors So of ignorance I would be free
My grandmother told me That you had to have fun Without it life hasn’t begun Which I’ve found to be key
My grandmother told me That she was the matriarch We were never a patriarch And I would have to agree
So many teachings to rely on Her advice has been fateful For her wisdom I am grateful I miss her now that she is gone
Two glowing red eyes peered out from beneath the bed. They watched as two kids ran around the small bedroom, toys in hand, pretending they were airplane pilots. Narrowing, the red eyes glowered until a voice called for the kids from outside the room.
Dropping their toys, both children giggled and ran out of the room. They seemed blissfully unaware of the eyes watching their every move. The instant they left the room, the eyes focused on a lone sock on the ground by a messy laundry hamper with clothes spilling out the side.
In a flash, a dark shadow passed over the room and the sock disappeared. Meanwhile, under the bed, a deep voice cackled. Reatreating to the darkest corner under the bed, a small demon shivered and crawled into the sock. With a sigh of relief, the demon stopped shivering and closed his eyes.
Having drifted into a restful slumber, the demon snored softly. He didn’t even wake when the humans entered the room. They weren’t the usual humans that the demon had grown accustomed to, but two older men in white and black robes.
They walked around the room chanting and sprinkling water, which burned into the demons skin through the sock when it was splashed under the bed. Shuddering, the demon awoke with a hiss. The men gasped and began chanting while throwing more water at the demon.
Crying, the demon howled in pain. It convulsed as th words and water caused searing pain to shoot through its entire body. With a scream of agony, it rolled out of the sock and launched itself at the closest man.
With a scream, the man staggered backwards and stopped chanting, easing the pain of the demon, but that wasn’t enough. The demon’s eyes burned bright red as it leaned over the man and sucked is soul out of his body in an instant.
The other man screamed and threw a bucket of holy water at the demon, but the demon was able to roll out of the way. As the water splattered on the wall, some of it splashed the demon. With a screech the demon sprang forward and consumed the other man’s soul. Growing slightly larger, the demon stepped over the contorted faces of the two old men and retreated under the bed.
It tried to crawl back into the child’s sock, but it was still damp with holy water that burned the demon’s hand. Howling in frustration, the demon smacked the sock and began to shiver. Then, the normal humans entered the room.
The two grown humans screamed and fled, but the two kids stared at the demon shivering under their bed. Backing away slowly, they disappeared into the hall for a moment. They returned a minute later with a large sock from their dads bedroom.
Their eyes wide with wonder, the two small kids walked across their bedroom and placed the sock on the ground with trembling hands. Shivering, the demon’s head perked up as they approached. It hissed before realizing that they were already backing away from it, leaving the sock near the edge of the bed.
With tripidation, the demon slowly crawled towards the sock. Looking up at the children, it make a purring noise much like a cat; then, it snatched the sock and retreated back under the bed. Slipping into the sock, it stopped shivering and sighed.
Drifting back to sleep, the demon nuzzled into the sock. The two kids didn’t return that night, or any other night, but the demon found a large black sock waiting for it at the edge of the bed each morning. Grateful, it spent its days slumbering in peace in a cozy sock.
I would be anything for you You can feel it’s true When you were a baby I was a bed Rocking you to sleep and kissing your head
I would be anything for you You can see it’s true When you were a toddler I was a horse Carrying you on my back through a set course
I would be anything for you You can hear it’s true When you were a kid I was an example Telling you to say thank you and giving you a sample
As you grow and try things that are new Remember, I would be anything for you.
Destined to be forever alone Trapped in a prison I’ve grown From a single seed of doubt I prepared to just go without Because the mistakes in my past, I assume, will make me an outcast Nobody could care for me it’s true But you say the same about you
You don’t know all I’ve done wrong Terrible history that is sad and long Decisions I have made like a fool Building a reputation that is cruel As someone who can’t be trusted Or leaves others utterly disgusted Nobody could care for me it’s true But you say the same about you
I thought I was the only one to make a mistake The only one to experience tragic heartbreak Yet here you are with your own burden to bear Even hearing your story, I unquestionably care To me, you are not an outcast, nor am I disgusted Comparing your story to mine requires a adjustment Someone could care for me it’s true But I can say the same about you
Note-this is a continuation of a story I wrote awhile ago for a different but similar prompt. This will be stand alone, but it will make more sense if you look up the original in my profile
Melissa stroked the grey hair of the elderly woman shivering in the bed in front of her. “I don’t remember…” she muttered as her eyes blinked twice and closed.
“Get some rest, Hellen,” Melissa cooed as the woman fell asleep.
Standing up, Melissa sighed and shuffled across a cramped, bare room with 3 beds full of sleeping patients into a kitchen. Sitting down at a small crooked wooden table, she pulled a cracked wooden bowl and small notebook across the table. She took a bite of stew made from small red, green, and blue fruit, which she ate every day for all 3 meals over the last two years.
Two small children slept in a large mattress on the floor of a room with no door at the other end of the walkthrough kitchen. Melissa looked at them and sighed before turning back to the bowl. Taking a few bites, she noted again that the texture was almost exactly like chilli made with real meat and beans, but without the flavor and spices that they could not afford.
Flipping through the pages of the notebook, she scratched her head when she reached the final page: it was full of notes from yesterday. Another sigh escaped her lips as she flipped the notebook over to start taking notes on the back of all the pages, and began to write.
“It’s been nearly two years since Thomas traded his mind for these this never ending supply of food,” Melissa wrote. “It’s kept us alive, but has done nothing else for us. I couldn’t even convince him to stay with us for a free bed and hot meal… but he isn’t far.”
The apartment rattled as a space shuttle sped past and Melissa looked up as dust fell from the ceiling where a large crack had formed. Rain dropped through the crack as it steadily tapped on the roof, but Melissa returned to her notebook.
“A fortune teller and cat-like drug dealer called a Khezal have informed me that the answer I’m looking for is closer than it appears and that the Fyuqlage fruit the Quixat traders gave me has unique ‘medicinal’ qualities, respectively. I can’t afford many more ingredients, but I’m hoping that adding some of the blue and green Fyuqlage fruits to the concoction that the herbalist recommended yesterday will have some effect. I”
Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning, crash of thunder and loud creak as Hellen sat up in her bed. “Manny!” Helen shouted. “Where is manny?”
Jumping from the table, Melissa rushed across the room as the other two patients began to stir. The elderly woman’s silvery hair flew about as she looked from side to side in a panic. Her eyes locked with Melissa’s and widened.
“Hellen,” Melissa called out nervously. “What’s wrong?”
“Manny,” Hellen mumbled. “Manny is gone!”
“Who is manny?”
Hellen paused and narrowed her eyes at Melissa before responding, “I don’t know…”
“Do you know who I am?” Melissa asked, clutching one of Hellen’s frail and cold hands in both of her own.
“Yes, Melissa, I could never forget you,” Hellen said with a smile spreading across her face.
“Why don’t you remember who Manny is?”
“I…” the smile faded from Hellen’s face. “Manny isn’t here…”
“No, he isn’t,” Melissa confirmed as confusion and fear spread across Hellen’s face. “I don’t know Manny. Can you tell me about him?”
“Manny is…” Hellen started, before her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed back into bed.
“Hellen?” Melissa cried, rushing to check for a pulse on the frail woman’s wrist.
As soon as she felt Hellens pulse, the man in the second bed complained, “I don’t care who Manny is, as long as her insufferable racket stops so I can sleep.”
“Charles, there is no need to be unkind when Hellen is clearly unwell,” Melissa snapped.
“Clearly she is! My daughter would never carry on like that at an hour such as this,” Charles scoffed.
“Your daughter?” Melissa questioned, her face softening as she leaned forward towards the tall skinny old man with a white mustache. “Do you remember your daughter Charles?”
“Remember my daughter? What kind of father would I be if I forgot my own daughter! I’ve told you about Sylvia before though.”
“I don’t believe you have… but please do tell me more about her!” Melissa scrambled to Charles’ bed and pulled a wooden stool out from the wall to sit next to the grumpy man.
“Sylvia was a brilliant child! She…” Charles’ voice trailed off. “She was…”
Suddenly, Charles doubled over, as if dead. Melissa swiftly checked that he also had a pulse and scratched her head. Looking from Hellen to Charles, a deep frown spread across her face. Soft snores reassured her that Charles was alive, but she shook her head anyway.
“That just leaves you, Annalise, do you remember anything?” Hellen asked the plump woman in the bed closest to the kitchen. However, Annalise was fast asleep.
Thinking for a moment, Melissa bounded back into the kitchen and snatched up her notebook. Frantically, she wrote about her encounter with Charles, Hellen and their new memories. She also copied the recipe for the last meal each ate, as if it might have disappeared from her notes the day before, and made a list of questions she wanted to ask her patients when then awoke.
“Finally, I’ve found a way to help you, Thomas,” Melissa whispered to herself as she prepared for bed. Laying down with her children, she sat up all night in anticipation of the morning when she could talk to Hellen and Charles more.
“What do you want?” Thomas muttered at the tall vaguely familiar women who stood over him as he came to in an alley between two bars. He rolled over from one rancid smelling trash bag to another that was softer and smelled slightly less rotten then swatted a few flies away from his ear.
Thomas peered up at the woman and narrowed his eyes in frustration. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. She occasionally would give him food, which was bland, but much better than the half eaten take out meals he ate out of dumpsters. It was difficult for him to hold a job, on account of the pain in his head that flaired up when he tried to remember his past.
The condition affected more than just Thomas. This part of town had more beggars with missing memories than actual residents. Alleys like the one Thomas lived it looked like they were filled with trash that moved on its own, but it was actually just people like him who were indistinguishable from the dump they were squatting in.
“Did you bring anything to eat?” Thomas croaked
“Yes!” Melissa squealed while quickly pulling a bowl of stew from a bag she carried on her arm.
As her trembling hands offered the bowl to Thomas, his eyes narrowed. “What is in this?” he questioned at the jittery woman with a grin plastered on her face.
“It’s just stew,” Melissa assured him as he smile wavered and whole body shook.
Scratching his head, Thomas studied the woman. She looked tired but excited and quite beautiful. Her eyes were sparkling and locked with his, sparking the feeling that she was somehow familiar once again. As a splitting pain made his head pound, he pushed away all of his thoughts and accepted the warm stew.
Pouring the entire bowl into his hungry mouth, Thomas realized that the stew quickly extinguished the pounding in his head. With a sigh of relief, Thomas exclaimed, “Thank you, Melissa, I feel much better!”
“Thomas,” Melissa cried, “Do you remember me?”
Thomas stared at her, with the pain in his head gone his eyes studied her again. Then, before he could say anything, Thomas collapsed in the alley and blacked out.
I’m so glad that works for you But I’m here too… It’s nice that your having the time of your life But mine is filled with strife. Wow I guess that’s really really cool But for me it’s cruel!
What do you mean you didn’t even know? You have me feeling so low… I wasn’t silent I just didn’t shout! How could you be in doubt? Is it too much to ask you to be able to see? Can you hear me?
Your past casts a shadow dark and tall, But are you alone or is that common to us all?
You think if someone finds out they will run, But why abandon a story that has barely begun?
Foolishly to everyone you start to compare Rating your self against others causes dispair
No one like you has ever done enough, But could you be that Diamond in the rough?
She wants to know his secret. He hasn’t decided what it is yet. All he knows is what he told her: he has a secret that will change everything.
Of course, this secret can explain all of the recent changes in Mike’s physical appearance, his relationship with Sarah and can’t be discussed over the phone. The truth already hasn’t worked. It’s simply too unbelievable.
Telling—or even showing—Sarah the truth was futile. She needs to hear something that makes sense—something she can see with her own eyes. There has to be proof.
With Sarah coming to visit in less than a week, and one one more chance to convince the girl of his dreams to stay, can Mike think of such a secret? Can he prove it?