Rob and Quinn: First Encounter

I hear someone behind me. It’s too dark to see who, and it’s too dark and far away for it to be any of the Mambergs. My head darts back involuntarily, my eyes scanning the darkness. Only trees. The leaves rustle in the wind like dry paper, every little movement making me jump. I’m too afraid to move.

I only see the dark object for a moment in my peripheral vision before it jumps on me. I feel pain through my adrenaline, my eyesight pulsing and my hearing acute. I hear myself exhale loudly as the air is knocked out of my stomach, and then I’m flying.

He threw me. I just barely miss the trunk of a giant oak. If I’d hit it, I would have shattered a few bones. I land hard on the moist ground, my muscles groaning as they hit the dirt, but my adrenaline dulls the pain.

I scramble to get up and run, but he tackles me before I can even stand up. I’m pinned to the ground. His fists meet my face with great force, right in the cheekbone. I realize that he’s kneeling above me, and as I’m preparing myself for another blow, he presses my chest surprisingly hard down against the ground.

He pants heavily, snorting on his breath like a bull. His eyes are so horribly dark, gleaming in the moonlight as he holds me down in the shadows.

“Let go of me.”

My voice is stronger than I thought I could muster. It’s commanding. My insides are trembling, but physically I’m holding up. His eyes are so horribly dark, just like the surrounding shadows of the forest. “Let go of me.”

One more hit, and he’s gone.

I stare back up at the leaves, the moon shining through the fog. Or maybe my eyesight is making it blurry. The air is cold as it rushes back into my lungs, chilling the cuts scraping up my legs and my left arm. My new pants are ripped where the right knee got caught on a sharp stick or something, a deep gauge behind the material. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind is screaming in my ears, my hearing enhanced by raging adrenaline.

Robert Mamberg is a whole lot more complicated than I thought.

Cadence: The Moon

The moon was out, shining like a plate after a good meal, shiny but stained. Cadence loved the moon, though she hadn’t ever told anybody. For some reason she felt silly about it, loving the moon, feeling so entranced by it. It seemed to give off its own soft humming, the faintest of beats in its chilly hum. It just sat there and glowed, moving slowly but surely. It seemed to smile down upon her every time she climbed out her window and sat on the steps.

Tonight, its smile seemed almost too broad for its milky face. It seemed to be laughing along to the music inside of her, making her steps light and excited. Should she be soaking enthusiasm from the moon? Probably not, but she smiled and danced down the stairs twisting along the trunk of her tree. Her friendship with the moon would remain a secret, and tonight, she was going to the shore.

Cadence: Back from the Dead

What had death been like? What hadn’t it been like? It was everything, but it was nothingness. It was bitter, it was sweet, it was quiet. He hardly remembered, but he knew it all; it was quiet. He performed for those there, he knew them all, had never met them, but had shared the same life as them all. He knew them, they were the same.
He saw men he had known, men he had served with in the militia. His enemies were friends, his friends were companions. They spoke with the silent conversations of companionship. There wasn’t much to say, and everything in the world to relay. They spoke with silence, were friends with speech.
Everything was quiet.

Note: Titles

Um... so... as I've told some of you before, I SUCK at coming up with titles. I think it's ridiculous. I mean, how am I supposed to come up with some phrase that expresses the mood, plot, and... whatever... of my work? I'm sorry, but it's difficult. So, often times, I just name whatever it is after the main characters. Hey, it works for me.

So, yeah.

A Beginning

So.

Hello.

Welcome.

Background, perhaps?

I am an aspiring author. I decided that its time I buck up and start sharing my works with other people, to stop being embarrassed. I write, so what? I have some sort of talent for story telling, and I'm not going to waste it any longer. So here we go.

I originally got the idea when I found the website of an author I enjoy... she posted teasers and secret novellas and stuff; I nearly cried with delight when I found it. And she had made a website especially for one of the series she wrote, where she had character bios and artwork and all sorts of stuff that went along with the story, and I was all, "HEY! I DO THAT!" I keep all sorts of extra things that go along with my stories: I find pictures that I would use for the covers of my books, I make playlists that go along with my stories, I find pictures of the sorts of settings I've imagined....etc.

So, what does that have to do with this blog? So very much. Here, I will post snippets of my stories, different scenes, whether they're important or not to the over all story, just things I am especially proud of, or that I think others will find interesting. You know when you crack open a novel, and a lot of the time, on the very first page, there will be some piece of the story, just sitting there? Something that gives you a small foreshadowing of what is to come... a teaser. THAT'S what I'm going to post.

All my stories are waaaaay too long to post here, on a mere blog. Plus, as stupid as it is, I'm afraid of people stealing it. Should I be? I hope not. But we'll see. So I won't ever post an entire story on here. I'll also be posting extras, like I talked about before.

If you are ever interested in what you read, if you'd like to know more, contact me. I'll probably be glad to giv you a copy of what I've come up with, happy to have your feedback.

(Why "twisted literature and ugly songs"? I once wrote a bio poem, stating, amongst other oxymorons, that I write twisted literature and ugly songs. Why "dark light lulllabye"? Don't know. I thought it sounded cool. And it kind of goes along with my style.)

Alright. Let's start.