Post by kullagain on Nov 30, 2020 22:47:28 GMT -5
Hi All,
I wrote a novella a while back, and wanted to share the beginning piece of the last chapter. It’s not really spoiler-y and you don’t need to know what happens in prior chapters to consume it (at least I don’t think).
The formatting is off from what it is in original word because I am just copy and pasting text into the forum.
Constructive feedback is welcome. If you find what you read is agreeable I can private message you the full story in its original word format.
Enjoy (hopefully)!
[/Story Snip]
In the new eve, giant wraiths of vapour floated high, and silhouetted against opaque sky, itself a grey blanket that pledged to deluge the dry air. Straining up at this were the limp reach of autumn-stripped trees, which seemed to stalk the two travelers walking in their midst, themselves sporting lonely, ripped underwear, and porting a rank, rotted cadaver.
The duo had wearied from hiking past hours of tree-laden plain. The hard soil had beat up their naked feet, while the ever-cooling breath of fall nibbled at their flesh, and the carriage of their cargo weighed their shoulders down. All this would have been at the forefront of their sense, had hateful hunger not been eating them alive. The lack of nutriment was betrayed by their ribs wheezing against thin curtains of skin, pulsing like demons seeking to burst between chest and thigh.
The taller one was also the much older one, as told by the threads of cottonous hair drooping from a face that was fissured to wrinkles by years of banality. The shorter and younger one instead was adolescent looking, blank eyed yet so bereft of any strong features that this one looked neither girl nor boy, Caucasoid nor otherwise.
“Lay that one down here,” directed the older one, pointing to the adolescent corpse on the adolescent's shoulder.
This younger one accorded, and dropped the rotting organism to the floor with some labour and revulsion. The body fell with a thud, the limbs rebounding and slapping on the ground as if animation kindled it for one last moment.
“Now walk over there, child,” instructed the old one again, as the repressed sorrow of his words began to escape him. “I'll—take—care...here.”
And this one walked, not many steps away, to sit sullen against a tree stump. This one knew the old one desired no audience for his present deed, but this one looked blankly at the gaunt back of that aged figure, as his crouching body mostly veiled the rite performed. With a dull, crude knife of stone he had stored between his waist and the strap of tattered briefs, the old one pierced many a piece of flesh to cleanse for consumption.
Sighting each slicing motion, each stab and wrench, this one watched on with a melancholy that seared body and drenched brain. This adolescent had known that one, when the lifeless mass in the distance had moved and spoken and emoted. For all its vim and visceral vitality, the organic body ceases animation, eventually, and begins its becoming back to mere material; nutriment for the soil.
At such event even blood loses the motive to rush and run, and sometimes it even slows when it knows finality is close. Like a live being it demands drive, purpose to work and give and take by, whether it be from nourishment, passion or endangerment. Even with the living pair’s current conditions, scarlet streams pumped into their vessels of flesh, charged their brains with awareness of self and world; a biotic, mobile force that was physical and visible soul.
For when contained in veins twining flesh and bone, blood burns, and bids a body to live, to move and perceive. A liquid of lightning that flows and fires.
And spills, and was spilling now in graceless, quiet splashes of dull and clotted crimson, escaping the rotten flesh across like stale wine leaks from a cracked and forgotten bottle. And this one stared on, with hunger abstrusely doubled.
[/Story Snip]
I wrote a novella a while back, and wanted to share the beginning piece of the last chapter. It’s not really spoiler-y and you don’t need to know what happens in prior chapters to consume it (at least I don’t think).
The formatting is off from what it is in original word because I am just copy and pasting text into the forum.
Constructive feedback is welcome. If you find what you read is agreeable I can private message you the full story in its original word format.
Enjoy (hopefully)!
[/Story Snip]
In the new eve, giant wraiths of vapour floated high, and silhouetted against opaque sky, itself a grey blanket that pledged to deluge the dry air. Straining up at this were the limp reach of autumn-stripped trees, which seemed to stalk the two travelers walking in their midst, themselves sporting lonely, ripped underwear, and porting a rank, rotted cadaver.
The duo had wearied from hiking past hours of tree-laden plain. The hard soil had beat up their naked feet, while the ever-cooling breath of fall nibbled at their flesh, and the carriage of their cargo weighed their shoulders down. All this would have been at the forefront of their sense, had hateful hunger not been eating them alive. The lack of nutriment was betrayed by their ribs wheezing against thin curtains of skin, pulsing like demons seeking to burst between chest and thigh.
The taller one was also the much older one, as told by the threads of cottonous hair drooping from a face that was fissured to wrinkles by years of banality. The shorter and younger one instead was adolescent looking, blank eyed yet so bereft of any strong features that this one looked neither girl nor boy, Caucasoid nor otherwise.
“Lay that one down here,” directed the older one, pointing to the adolescent corpse on the adolescent's shoulder.
This younger one accorded, and dropped the rotting organism to the floor with some labour and revulsion. The body fell with a thud, the limbs rebounding and slapping on the ground as if animation kindled it for one last moment.
“Now walk over there, child,” instructed the old one again, as the repressed sorrow of his words began to escape him. “I'll—take—care...here.”
And this one walked, not many steps away, to sit sullen against a tree stump. This one knew the old one desired no audience for his present deed, but this one looked blankly at the gaunt back of that aged figure, as his crouching body mostly veiled the rite performed. With a dull, crude knife of stone he had stored between his waist and the strap of tattered briefs, the old one pierced many a piece of flesh to cleanse for consumption.
Sighting each slicing motion, each stab and wrench, this one watched on with a melancholy that seared body and drenched brain. This adolescent had known that one, when the lifeless mass in the distance had moved and spoken and emoted. For all its vim and visceral vitality, the organic body ceases animation, eventually, and begins its becoming back to mere material; nutriment for the soil.
At such event even blood loses the motive to rush and run, and sometimes it even slows when it knows finality is close. Like a live being it demands drive, purpose to work and give and take by, whether it be from nourishment, passion or endangerment. Even with the living pair’s current conditions, scarlet streams pumped into their vessels of flesh, charged their brains with awareness of self and world; a biotic, mobile force that was physical and visible soul.
For when contained in veins twining flesh and bone, blood burns, and bids a body to live, to move and perceive. A liquid of lightning that flows and fires.
And spills, and was spilling now in graceless, quiet splashes of dull and clotted crimson, escaping the rotten flesh across like stale wine leaks from a cracked and forgotten bottle. And this one stared on, with hunger abstrusely doubled.
[/Story Snip]
