Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Writing Doodle 013 - Character Development: Niko

Niko is a young woman, about seventeen years old. As a child, she loved magic and fairy tales, but as she grew older, the love grew stale and fell away. Magic was a lie. That lie hurt her more than she really let on, but it did hurt. Now, at a mere seventeen years old, Niko views the world with a cynical, hateful eye. Without a mother, she's become distant from the people around her, only keeping a couple close friends. She's afraid to let anyone too near, afraid they'll abandon her somehow. Despite the tough exterior she presents to the world, Niko is nothing less than emotionally fragile, still mourning the literal loss of her mother and the figurative loss of her father. She finds herself drawn to the forest behind the house she lives in with her broken father where she will sit for hours on end, reading, writing, drawing, studying...whatever her heart desires. A stray cat lives in the area of the forest and Niko has found a silent friend in the feline and often confides in it her hopes, dreams, and fears.

Niko is the kind of girl who doesn't believe in romance. Sure, it's a nice concept, but it's not her thing. In fact, she's not even certain she would ever be interested in dating, let alone getting married one day. It's just not something she thinks about despite society and media trying so hard to jam it down her throat.

Very clever, Niko is a great student, but she's all over the place, unsure of what she really wants to do with her life, and with her senior year of high school looming over her like a dark cloud, she's feeling a lot of pressure to figure her entire life out sooner rather than later. Sure, there are things she enjoys, but she's not sure those are the things she'll want to do for the rest of her life as a career.

When it comes right down to it, Niko can be pretty snarky, often using sarcasm and rude words to get her point across. She doesn't seem to care about the feelings of others and doesn't mind letting them know if they're doing something she doesn't like or doesn't approve of.

Deep down, though, Niko has a kind and loving heart, but she's terrified of opening up to people. She's seen people get hurt-- she's been hurt. If she can protect herself, she will. By any means necessary and available to her. Most often, that defense mechanism is scathing sarcasm and a wall a mile think so as not to let anyone in where they might be able to hurt her.

(http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/31300000/Bae-Suzy-DORKY-Style-miss-a-31321667-600-450.jpg)

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Writing Doodle 012 - Keyboard Mashing

Based on a writing prompt found here.

efthjqiopg

Either
Foggy
Tumbled
Horrendous
Juniper
Quest
Iron
Officially
Painstaking
Goddesses

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Either one of them could have said, "Let's turn back," and the other would have gladly agreed. Foggy as it was, they could see decently well through the dark and the mist thanks to the single flashlight they had between them. Tumbling downwards, they both let out a shriek of fear as the ground gave way. Horrendous spiders glided down on silken strings to where the two girls lay in a terrified heap on the damp ground, a beam of moonlight faint through the fog cut it's way through the darkness from the opening they had fallen through. Juniper yelped when she noticed the massive arachnids descending upon them and grabbed for Carlie who was searching for the flashlight she'd dropped. Quests were supposed to be something fun, not terrifying, thought Juniper as she clung desperately to Carlie, tears welling in her eyes. "Iron," Carlie shouts at Juniper from beneath her, "They can't touch iron, June!" Officially sobbing in fear, Juniper tries desperately to retrieve the iron blade from her belt. Painstaking measures were taken to ensure that the blade had been carried with them since it was the only thing that could kill the eight-legged monsters. Goddesses and Gods alike watched in amusement as Juniper flailed with the knife in her hand, hoping beyond hope that she managed to kill even just one of the creatures that seemed to want to eat her and Carlie so badly, only just managing to kill one of the things, frightening the rest back, and ending the quest.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Writing Doodle 011 - Split Personality

The movies never really prepare you for anything. In this case, the movies were far from the truth. The zombie apocalypse was nothing like anyone had ever really imagined it would be. Not in the movies, anyways. They don't just change. They die, something takes over their bodies, the reanimated corpses hunt down the rest of us. I mean, I guess it kind of sounds like some of the movies...maybe, but it doesn't feel like it. We have to bury our dead in coffins made of steel. Steel. It's crazy. Their eyes don't turn that milky blue like you see in movies, though. They look normal. Bloodshot, sure, but normal. And something-- I guess it's whatever takes over the bodies-- keeps them from rotting, as if they were still alive. All of 'em. So, yea, it can be a little bit difficult to pick out the zombie ones sometimes. Until they start following you, chasing you...killing you. Y'know.

The worst thing I saw, though, was this kid. Must've been only four or five, and one of the cutest kids I ever saw. Anyways, he was with an officer who'd saved him from being eaten and all that, but the kid slipped away while the officer's back was turned. The kid walked right over to one of the zombies and tried to hold it's hand, calling it "Mommy." The officer noticed too late. Kid got massacred by the thing that was originally his mother. Terrible, huh?

So anyways, I've never really been one to believe in things like supernatural and all. These zombies have some definite scientific explanation-- I think I read that it's some crazy parasite born from some virus or other. I don't know. I'm not a scientist, so I didn't really understand what all the words meant. So, really, I always thought those people that claimed to see ghosts and things like that were insane. Actually insane. So when everything started happening, I really thought I'd lost it, too.

I was living in this shelter compound with at least a dozen other people. Honestly, though, I think we had about fifty people living there. It was a decent group-- enough of us to get all the work done and then some. And pretty much all the lazy ones had gotten picked off by the zombies, so we were doing okay. Anyways, there was this one girl-- she was gorgeous-- her name was Georgia, but everyone called her Jo. I was totally in love with her, but I never imagined anything would come of that, what with it being the middle of an apocalypse and all. Not to mention, with only about fifty of us living there, I hardly expected any of them to be like me. Queer, that is. But that's beside the point. Jo and I, we really had something, y'know? Something that makes people uncomfortable because they're jealous that they haven't got it as good. But it didn't seem to be a bother to anyone. Life went on as usual-- just that me and Jo usually got to work together from that point on.

We were put on scavenging duty a few months after we became a public..."thing." Wasn't the first time we'd been put to the task, either. And, actually, it was one of my favorites. We went out into the town, searching for anything that might be useful. Batteries, food, clothes...whatever. Anything that might help. So we were exploring this old house-- could tell it used to be real nice, too-- and we run into a kid. She must have been maybe eight years old? I don't know-- I'm no good at telling kids' ages. Anyways, Jo, with her gentle heart, calls out to the kid, telling her it'll be alright. Course, we both got this feeling in our guts that this kid is a zombie, but neither one of us wants it to be true. So Jo's trying to get the kid to come out of the corner she's huddled in, and when she's close enough, the kid rips Jo to bits, pretty much. Eats some parts of her and all that. I was bolting. We'd made a pact-- if either one of us got killed, the other one couldn't just stand there and wait to die, too. Had to run, had to live. 

So with tears streaming from my eyes, I raced back to the compound with my bag full of the stuff I'd collected. I told 'em all what happened and they did their best to comfort me. I mean, really. They really tried. That was when I started to feel like I was part of a massive family, and I loved all of 'em. 

Couple days later, I'm sitting in the compound mourning the loss of my girlfriend, when I think I hear her voice behind me. I turn and look, not expecting to see anything, expecting it just to be my grief getting the better of me. And there she is. A bit bloodied and pretty....transparent. I blink, I rub my eyes, I shake my head. Nothing I do makes the image go away. I even tried throwing something at her, but it did nothing. She smiled the way she used to and floated-- that's right, floated-- closer. I muttered aloud about seeing things and going crazy. Then, I remember, clear as day, she said, "You're not goin' crazy, Bug. I'm here. I'm really here." I was terrified of going insane, so I ran. I ran away from her for the second time, tears streaming all over again. 

That night, as I tossed and turned on my bed pallet, I saw her again. She seemed to glow as she moved towards me. An eerie, otherworldly sort of glow. I knew I had to be dreaming. Until Moose, the big guy on the pallet next to mine woke up and freaked because he saw her, too. It was Jo. A ghost, but it was Jo. With just about everyone in the room stirring at Moose's rather loud and terrified chattering, Jo disappeared. I jumped up, reaching out for her, but she was gone. The ghost sighting was the talk of the compound for the next two days.

A week after Jo's death, I was back on the duty roster. I had elected to be put on scavenging duty. People thought I had a death wish after seeing my dead girlfriend and all that. I didn't-- not really-- I just liked scavenging. So I was out and about with Moose, of all people. He's not exactly graceful, y'know. Big and lumbery, makes a lot of noise. Good guy, though. Anyways, we're looting this corner store when Jo just sort of...appears in front of me. She smiles, says hi. I kind of smile back. Moose comes 'round the corner and yelps at the sight of her. She rolls her eyes in that adorable way and tells him that "if he's just gonna keep screamin' everytime he sees her, she'll stop showin' up" or somethin' like that. Moose quiets down and tries to touch her, but I swatted his hand away. No one gets to touch my girlfriend without her permission. But she turns and says the real reason she's here now is to warn us-- there's a group of zombies headed for right where we are. 

So we grab what we can and scurry out of the store. As we do, we see the group Jo was talking about. At the head of the group? Jo's body. Pristine in it's beauty. I mean, yea, there's some blood splatters all over her, but I mean, it's Jo. It's really Jo. And I think it saw me-- recognized me. 'Cause it stopped in it's tracks, staring at me. Beside me, Jo's ghost is telling me I need to run, to get out of there. Moose is yelling the same thing from a ways away-- he's already started running. Jo's body is suddenly bolting towards me, her face distorted with something like rage. I run like hell, leaving Jo's ghost behind to face the body she came from.

I make it back to the compound about five minutes after Moose. They thought I'd let myself be killed. I grin and tell them I would never do something stupid like that. Then I go on to tell them about how Jo's body is still out there, and it's weird 'cause her ghost is out there two. It's like she got split into two people when she died. We wonder if it happens to everyone or if Jo's just a special case, but none of us are scientists, and ghosts aren't really science anyways.

As the years go on, I age. Jo stays the same. Her ghost as pretty as the day she died. Even her body, which I run into every now and then, is still young and perfect. I don't know how it does it-- the parasite virus thing, I mean. How does it preserve them all so perfectly? At least we've finally found a way to kill them now-- and keep 'em dead. It was kind of funny to see everyone going for headshots and all that-- damn zombie movies. I mean, yea, if you can cut off the head, that seems to work for the most part. The body's still animated, but it rots-- slowly, but it rots. Y'see, what you gotta do is burn 'em. Cut off the head, keep it away from the body, 'cause there was a couple cases a few years back where the heads reattached themselves, and then you gotta burn 'em. Set 'em on fire. And make sure they burn up all the way. 

We were twenty-three when Jo died-- well, I was. She was twenty-one. Now I'm reaching fifty-five. It's been a long apocalypse, but it's almost over now. Just a few more of 'em left out there. One of 'em's Jo. And it's my job to burn her. I won't let just anyone do it. So out I go-- these kids with me, they never knew the world before the apocalypse, and it's crazy to think they were born into this shithole of a world, but they're good kids. I spot Jo, and we stare one another down, just like that day thirty-someodd years ago. She runs at me, finally. I tell the kids to get ready-- they do. I yell the signal, and they grab her just in time. They've got these crazy hazmat suits on-- gotta make sure they all stay uninfected. Anyways, I chop of Jo's head, her perfect hair now glistening with her own blood. One of the kids grabs the head the way we taught him, and two of others drag the still moving body. They throw the pieces into two pits-- one for the body, one for the head. I douse each with some gasoline, strike the matches, and toss 'em into the pits. We all stand back and watch as the fire licks at the sky. Through the flames, I can see Jo's ghost. She smiles at me the way she used to, blows me a kiss. I swear she almost looks like she's crying, but maybe that's just my vision blurring from my own tears. But I do know that she's saying goodbye. This is the last time I'll ever see her.

Years later, I die in a hospital. A hospital. The world is slowly going back to what it was before the apocalypse. Well, same but better, really. As the light fades, I see Jo. She's waiting for me, a smile on her face. I wish I would hurry up and die faster so I can get to her quicker. Finally, the world disappears, the pain slips away, and I'm standing there, hand-in-hand, with Jo. 

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Writing Doodle 010 - CatTron

Gracie loved lights. Absolutely loved them. She simply couldn't help herself around lights and almost always ended up chasing after them, a gleam in her green eyes. When the orange light whizzed past her, she had no other option than to chase after it. It moved so sporadically, and she didn't understand it. Until it turned around, and, following it, she saw her own trail of light. Blue. The orange light was chasing her blue light as she was chasing it! It would be an endless game of cat and mouse as they pounced at one another's light trails, attempting to capture them beneath their paws. The orange light whizzed towards Gracie's blue trail, let his paws capture the light, and suddenly, he was gone. Gracie had won, being the last cat standing. With all her fur standing on end, Gracie picked a cautious path to the celebratory bowl of cream on the edge of the grid.

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Don't Pause

Laughter, cold and mechanical, sliced through the air in hopes of finding anyone to listen to it. It was the kind of laughter you might expect to hear from the creepiest clown doll in existence. Luckily for Shaylan, the girl who heard it, it wasn't real. The laughter was coming from the game she was absorbed in. The game was all that mattered, but that wasn't uncommon for Shaylan-- games were her weakness, her passion. Being as absorbed in the game as she was, the sound of banging caused her to jump and look about the room wildly. Again, the sound of banging reached her ears, and, pausing the game, Shaylan got up to investigate. The sound led her to her front door, and upon opening it, she saw it was just Brian delivering a pizza she forgot she had ordered.

With her back to the room, Shaylan had missed the shadows moving. The room was growing darker of its own accord.

A fresh, hot pizza in her hand, Shaylan closed the door behind Brian and turned back to the room. Strange, it seemed darker somehow, but she couldn't tell why or how. Flicking the nearest switch, an overhead light came on, driving some of the shadows back, but not quite far enough. Shaylan set the pizza box down on the coffee table beside the game controller and went to her bedroom where her phone lay half-forgotten on her bed. Glancing around the room, as if to be sure she was alone, Shaylan scurried to the bed, grabbed her phone, and rushed back to the living room where her pizza sat waiting for her.

One eye behind her, Shaylan all but leaped onto the couch. She made certain that her feet were well away from the floor, afraid of the shadows lurking under the couch, waiting to grab her ankles. Grabbing the remote, she switched the input on the television and sound flooded the room making it feel simultaneously less and more foreboding. While the television showed scenes of cartoon comedy, and Shaylan ate the pizza, the shadows moved in closer and closer, pressing against the light.

More than half the pizza was gone by the time Shaylan was done with it. The box lay open on the nearby coffee table as the air nipped at the pizza, chilling it. As the hours wore on, Shaylan gave into sleep on the couch, the television's light flickered, giving the room a eerie look. As the young woman slept on the couch, her fingertips brushing against the carpet, the shadows came out to play. The television flipped back to the game Shaylan had paused, and the sound of laughter that had seemed so innocuous before reached out for the sleeping woman.

The sound woke her with a start. Eyes wide, she searched for any signs of another person in the apartment, but quickly found that she was alone. Pausing the game, that she was so certain she had paused before falling asleep, Shaylan stood up cautiously as she made her way to the nearest light. When she tried to turn it on, nothing happened. Again, she tried to turn the light on, and again, nothing happened. Scuffling her feet along the carpet, Shaylan picked a cautious route to the circuit breaker on the wall behind her bedroom door. The game unpaused once again, the laughter filling the room with its ominous tones. Shaylan froze with her hand on the doorframe, about to enter the bedroom. With guarded movements, she turned to look at the television, expecting one of her friends to jump out at any moment to scare the shit out of her. Standing in front of the television was the shape of a person, darkened by the glow of the television from behind.

"Heh-hello...? Brian? That you?" The words came out as little more than a quivering whisper.

The only response she got was the laughter. The same, horrifying laughter that had been in the game, and it dawned on her that the sound was no longer coming through the speakers. It was coming from the figure in front of the television.

"This...this isn't funny..." Shaylan took a step backwards, stepping on a shirt she'd left lying on the floor. A shriek of terror ripped from her lungs as she jumped forward, her eyes focusing on the lump of innocuous fabric on the ground. When she lifted her eyes back to the figure, she found it to be closer. Much closer. It was barely two feet away from her now. Shaylan could feel her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. Never before had she been more terrified than she was then. It was too dark to make out the figure's face, but Shaylan had the distinct feeling that it was smiling at her. "B-Brian...?" Even though she knew now that it wasn't him, she asked out of desperation, one final hope that maybe this was all some elaborate prank.

Flickering, much like a television, the figure disappeared from view. Shaylan took a jerky step forward, nearly petrified with terror, trying to figure out where the thing was or if it had gone for good. Just as her foot slid forward, Shaylan felt a slimy hand on her upper arm. Her first instinct was to run, but her fear held her as if she'd been frozen in place. The hand slithered to her shoulder, gripping her tightly. It-- whatever it was-- turned her around.

Finally, Shaylan saw its face. It was like something that had stepped right out of a horror movie with its rotting flesh, a smile cut into its horrifying face that stretched from one ear to the other. Over the rotting flesh was the remnants of what appeared to be clown make-up. Shaylan felt her fear expanding from her chest. Her heart stopped before beating in a way that made it feel like there was a jackhammer in her chest. Bile rose up the back of her throat, followed by a scream that tore from her fast enough to cause her voice to crack into a shrill screech of terror.

The thing that had climbed right out of the game she had been playing now had a hold of Shaylan. It's laughter filled the apartment as it grabbed her by the throat and she was plunged into a darkness that pushed against her with so much force, it might have knocked the air from her lungs had there been any in them to begin with. It was a darkness that couldn't be penetrated even by sound, let alone light, but the clown's laughter still rang in her ears.

* * * * *

It was nearly five days later when they came to check on Shaylan. Brian had reported having not heard from her for a couple of days and was beginning to worry. 

What they found was a game, paused, and a half-eaten pizza that was a few days old. And Shaylan. The woman was slumped near her bedroom door. The corpse looked as through it had been wrung out entirely of fluids. Her face was contorted in a scream. Studying the body, they could have sworn they heard the sound of laughter. Cold, mechanical laughter. The kind of laughter you might expect to hear from the creepiest clown doll in existence, but when they searched the apartment for the source, they found nothing but the paused game.