Apr 10, 2020, 04:59 am


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The Little Match Girl by Ren
Mar 31, 2020, 07:59 pm

Dorothy vs, Oz - Parts I and II by Ren
Mar 30, 2020, 01:02 pm

Scifi/Fantasy - Apocolypto by Ren
Mar 28, 2020, 06:42 pm

The Magicians (Scify/Amazon Prime) by Ren
Mar 21, 2020, 04:05 pm

Sci-fi/Fantasy - Walkabout - Chapter 4 - Limo Ride. by Ren
Mar 11, 2020, 05:47 pm

Scifi/Fantasy - The Other One by Ren
Jan 31, 2020, 08:41 pm

Crime - The Memoirs of Theodore Chance by Ren
Jan 26, 2020, 09:11 am

Martha school: cold case mystery_chapter 1 by Scribe_siren
Nov 28, 2019, 05:58 am

Most Excellent Music vids/songs by Ren
Nov 14, 2019, 09:05 pm

'ello 'ello 'ello by Ren
Nov 13, 2019, 09:29 am

Recent posts

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Audio Hill / The Little Match Girl - Updat...
Last post by Ren - Mar 31, 2020, 07:59 pm
I've updated this with the full version. Click on the top post to see.
Audio Hill / Re: Dorothy vs, Oz - Parts III
Last post by Ren - Mar 30, 2020, 01:02 pm
Right, finally done a bit more on this.  I'm not too happy with my voice (well, I never am) 'cos was a bit blocked up, but it takes so much time to record/edit/make video, that I couldn't be bothered to do it again.  At least for now.  Anyway...


Interactive Stories Glade / Scifi/Fantasy - Apocolypto Cha...
Last post by Ren - Mar 28, 2020, 06:42 pm
Max grunted and ducked as he ran along behind the remains of the wall.  The curse of the sergeant was already making itself felt it seemed. Only seconds after he had he picked up the strange metallic object near the remains of the bunker, the enemy had attacked.  How they had got so close without anyone detecting them he didn't know, but he would worry about that later, should he have a later.

Initially he'd been lucky.  The attackers hadn't seen him, not expecting anyone to be there, and he'd managed to seclude himself within a pile of debris as the force passed by, on the way to the main attack.  Max itched to get back to his own lines to warn someone, but there was no getting in front of the enemy troops now. They'd get there before he could.

So he'd lay low until there was a break and scooted off at right angles, thinking he could work his way around back to his own lines. 

It wasn't to be.  Enemy troops were everywhere, advancing stealthily through no man's land.  It baffled Max as to how they were managing to elude all the sensors and surveillance of his own side. 

Moving carefully, he'd been forced further and further off course, until he'd ended up in his current position, in one of the many, mostly destroyed, villages that littered the battlefield, long since abandoned by whomever had lived here. 

He made it to the shelter he'd been heading for, a small brick construct of some kind.  Maybe it had once been a coal cellar or the like.  Now it was just useful cover.  Panting hard, he took stock.  He had his pistol, rifle and basic supplies, including a few rations, but no extra cover.  If he was forced to hide out overnight he was going to need shelter, or freeze to death. 

With that in mind, he eyed the row of mostly destroyed houses nearby.  One of them, amazingly, was nearly intact.  It even looked like it had more than one floor.  It would be a good place to shelter, with a view of the approaching area.  Decision made, he put his plan into action and pulled himself up and around the wall... and stopped.

There was a man there, obviously he was equally surprised at Max's appearance, as he was staring at him wide eyed.  He was dressed in some kind of dark leather outfit, with long boots, a cloak and a short sword at his side, of all things. Training took over.  Before he was even aware of it, Max had pulled his sidearm and fired.

The bullet slowed and stopped before it reached it's target, remaining still in the air for a moment before dropping, spent, to the floor.

The stranger looked wide-eyed at Max.  Max returned the stare, and then fired again and again, until the clip was empty.

Once again, there was no effect.  The bullets hung short of their target for a moment before dropping into the mud to join their brother.

"By the Universe!" Max gasped, taking a step back.

"???? ?? ??????," said the man, holding his empty hands out in front of him, an action that made Max squeeze the trigger of his now empty pistol again.

"?? ??? ????? ?? hurt ???!" said the stranger.

"What?"  Max stopped.  "What did you say?"  At the same time he felt something move in his pocket. 

"I said ?? ??? ????? to hurt you," repeated the man.

"Listen," Max said, suddenly remembering where he was.  "I don't know what in the Universe is going on, but we're in the middle of an attack here.  If you're not with them, then you're in danger."  He wasn't sure what it was, but he suddenly had the feeling that this person wasn't his enemy.

"What ??? you ???? say?" the stranger asked.

"What?" replied Max.


The two men stared at each other in mutual bafflement for moment, before Max pulled himself together.

"Listen," he said, "we need to get under cover.  Come with me if you want to live."  He pointed at the house he'd spotted earlier.  Then, without waiting to see if he was being followed, he moved past the man and jogged towards his target.  After a moment he heard the stranger curse under his breath and follow.

Chapter I Part V - Salzar.

Salzar followed the soldier through the debris that littered the remains of the destroyed village.  The houses were made of dark brick; strange, ghostlike things, broken and abandoned for goodness knows how long in this sad, war torn world.  Maybe the soldier would be able to give him a bit of guidance. His pointing device had suggested a piece of artefact was nearby.  He'd no doubt have to dig through half a ton of mud to find it.  He glanced left and right.  Whatever this dimension lacked, mud was not on the list.

The warrior was heading towards a fairly intact looking house, moving with a practised gait through the uneven ground.  He was clad in a rather horrible grey/green coloured uniform, which was no doubt designed to help him blend into the terrain.  Slung over his back was a cleverly designed backpack, large enough to be able to carry a reasonable amount of equipment but sleek enough not to interfere too much with movement.  Over one shoulder was a long device, like a pipe with a handle and trigger.  This was a weapon, Salzar quickly decided, similar but larger than the one he'd fired earlier.  Luckily the protective magics that had been cast on him before he left were still strong, and hadn't had any problem protecting him from the projectiles.  Finally, his new friend was wearing some kind of helmet, the same colour as his uniform, that came halfway down his ears and slightly further down the back of his neck. 

So intent was Salzar in studying the fellow, he nearly bumped into him when the man suddenly stopped, holding up one hand in, belated, warning.

"What..." Salzar started to ask, but was immediately shushed.

The soldier, carefully and quietly, unslung his larger weapon and did something that made a kind of a metallic clicking noise.  The man looked back at Salzar and pointed ahead, at the doorway they'd been heading for.

The mage felt a slight thrill of excitement run through him.  There was an enemy nearby! He'd never been in any actual fighting, though he knew several battle spells.  With all his wards, this would be a perfect time to try them out, and he had the wand and the sword too, if he needed anything more. 

Thus emboldened, he tapped his colleague on the shoulder, nearly making the poor man jump out of his skin. 

"Let me go first," he whispered.

"No, there are at least two, maybe..." the man started. 

"It's okay, I've protective wards."  The soldier stopped speaking and looked puzzled, but then stepped, carefully, back.  No doubt he thought that if this strange man wanted to get himself killed he wasn't going to stop him.

Muttering an offensive spell under his breath, Salzar crept carefully forward, sidling up towards the doorway.  As he did so his heart began to beat faster.  This wasn't a practice scenario at his college.  These people were deadly serious.  For the first time he began to appreciate the enormity of what he'd been thrust into.  He shook his head. Too late to back out now.

Ducking down he, very quickly, stuck his head around the doorway, took a mental snapshot of the room, pulling it back just as fast. 

Evaluating what he had seen, he decided on an aggressive approach.  As much as to do something before he totally chickened out as any other reason.  Moving before he could change his mind, he readied his spell and dived into the room, rolling on landing before coming up, ready to cast.

The world exploded in noise and light as several previously hidden shapes opened up with weapons not unlike his soldier friend's long stick.

Maybe these men had better sticks, or maybe theirs were just more powerful, but these projectiles knocked him back slightly.  Suddenly angry, he loosed his magic.

The spell was called Blue Snapper, and it threw from six to several dozen small blue, explosive, energy bolts from his fingertips.  Salzar had chosen this as his specialist offensive spell in battle classes, because it was a relatively lower power spell to cast, quick, and could take out multiple opponents.  Of course, back in college he'd only used it on dummy targets.

He wasn't ready for the real thing.  The three men that were firing at him simply exploded as the bolts hit home, splattering the surroundings with blood, flesh, muscle and bone. 

"Fuck me!" Salzar said, shocked at the result.  He stopped and stared at the gruesome mess, and thus reacted too slowly when the fourth man stepped out of cover with some kind of metal ball in his hand.  He was about to throw it at Salzar, when there was a single retort from the doorway.  The enemy soldier was thrown back as his friend's weapon's projectile hit him in the chest. 

"Get down!" shouted his new pal, as the enemy fighter fell backwards, releasing the metal ball, which rolled a short way away, coming to rest against the wall.

Salzar was too slow.  There was a huge explosion, and he was thrown back violently in an orange cloud of fire, to smash against the something hard.  Even with his protective wards, he felt the heat and power of the device.  The impact winded him, hard, and he slid down to land in a crumpled heap on the dirty floor.

Chapter I Part VI - Max.
Ducking quickly back quickly, Max felt the earth shake as the grenade went off.  Orange flames licked past him, out of the doorway, followed by a cloud of brown dust. 

Coughing slightly, he waited a short time, letting the dust settle, before peering back around, fully expecting to see the stranger scattered over the floor.

Instead the man was merely lying on the ground groaning.  Max shook his head in amazement.  Not only had the fellow taken out three soldiers, conclusively, in the blink of an eye, but he'd survived half a dozen machine gun rounds and a grenade.   He didn't know what the man had, but Max wanted some of it.

Glancing around first, it was unlikely anyone else had survived, but years of war had made him careful, he made his way over the stranger, who was slowly sitting up and dusting the dirt off his odd outfit.

"Are you alright?" Max asked him, offering him a lift up.

The other nodded and took his hand.  Max pulled the fellow up, wondering at the smooth skin of his new comrade.  Whomever he was, he certainly wasn't from around here.  He itched to know, but first things first...

"We need to secure a spot, upstairs might be best," be said.  "Hopefully with the attack going on, all this won't be noticed."  He gestured at the gruesome scene they were standing in the middle of.  "Wait, let me check for anything useful."  Leaving the other to get his bearings, Max scouted out the enemies' former hideout.  One of the machine guns still looked serviceable, the others having been rendered useless by the grenade.  He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, and retrieved all the remaining ammunition he could find, plus a couple of grenades and a few other choice items. 

By the time he'd finished he was rather encumbered.  He would have to sort things out later.

The man was looking at something in his hand, a kind of watch perhaps, and frowning.  As Max moved towards him, the man's eyes widened. 

"You!" he said, startling Max and nearly making him reach for his pistol again.  "It's on you!"

"What?"  Max replied.  "What is it?"

"Do you have a..." the man hesitated. "I don't know what it looks like," he said, as much to himself as Max.  He looked up again.  "Do you have, er, something odd on you?"

Frowning, Max was about to say no, but then he remembered the small metallic thing he'd picked up at the bunker. He hadn't had any chance to inspect it before the attack, simply stuffing it in his pocket, and had been too busy since.

"Let's get secure first," he said, in way of reply.  "It will be getting dark soon.  Come on, I want to see if we can find a way upstairs."


"Secure the area first,"  Max berated his new friend.  "I don't know where you're from, but death is around every corner here.  Now..."

Without waiting for a response, he moved over to a doorway he'd spotted near the corner of the room.  It was behind a pile of debris, and it took a bit of a struggle to reach it, but reach it he did.  Even then, he had to risk making a noise kicking the remains of a door away.  After that though, he slid easily through, and was delighted to find stairs leading up beyond, and pretty much intact too.

Moving carefully in the gloom, there was no window here, he crept carefully up, pausing a moment to wait for the stranger as he slithered through after him, muttering to himself all the while.

Shaking his head at such childish behaviour, Max carried on up, and was rewarded by an almost clean room, with a old, but still usable bed, a table and several chairs. There was a skeleton in one corner, dressed in ancient tattered rags and holding what looked like a book, but otherwise the room was almost a museum.  He shook his head.  Whomever the unfortunate tenant was, he, or she, and their people had long been overwhelmed and subsumed by the war. 

"Oh my god," exclaimed the man, as he stood beside Max and looked around.  "There's a dead person here!"

"Yes?"  Max replied, raising an eyebrow and moving over to the window, careful not to walk in front of it.  "There are dead people everywhere.  Surely it's the same where you come from.  Where is that by the way?"  He peered carefully round the edge of the frame, through broken glass, and scanned the terrain beyond.  There was no sign of movement nearby, though he could see the glare of fires burning in the distance, towards his lines.

"We usually bury our dead," the man replied, ignoring the other question.  He strode over to Max, and Max had to put an arm out to stop him standing in front of the window.  It was as if the man had no concept of basic warfare!

"What?" the man asked.  "Oh, don't stand in front of the window right?"

"Where are you from?"  Max asked again, by way of reply.  "And what's your name anyway?"

"Oh, sorry.  Where are my manners?" The fellow held a hand out.  "Salzar.  My name's Salzar, Master Magician, well Junior Tier Master, but still.  And you?"

"Max,"  Max replied, looking curiously at the outstretched hand of this odd chap.  "A what?"

"Magician," said Salzar, still holding his hand out.

"What's a magician?"  Max enquired.

Sighing, Salzard lowered his hand.  "Oh dear, this is going to take some explaining."


Okay, it's weak I know, but the Suggestion Phase here is: What form does the artefact shard take, that Max has in his pocket?  The only constraints are that (currently) it's small and metallic looking.  Anything and everything else in on the table. 

And thank you for reading!

Audio Hill / Re: Dorothy vs, Oz - Parts I a...
Last post by Ren - Mar 24, 2020, 01:46 pm
Right!  Recovered the original audio file for part 1 and videoised it, so yay!  Now all I have to do is record more of the story, and actually finish writing it.  So, no biggie.

Multimedia Beach / The Magicians (Scify/Amazon Pr...
Last post by Ren - Mar 21, 2020, 04:05 pm

I've just finished binge watching the first four seasons of The Magicians, and I'm going to give it a fairly large thumbs up!

Um.  No thumbs up smiley.  Well, I would if we had a thumbs up Smiley.  I've sure the Wanderer will plant a new smiley icon soon.

Anyway, after a bit of a slowish start, it moved into gear from around season two onwards.  The characters are a well rounded bunch, with each of them having various endearing, or not, qualities.

Anyway, the various plot lines intertwine pretty well, and the whole fucked up place of Fillary brought me many moments of mirth. 

There were some moments though, when I found myself screaming at the screen when they were obviously walking into a trap or some such.  Still, the show can survive these, if you just take a deep breath and count to ten.

The odd musical numbers that are interjected here and there also, somehow, manage to work well.

Now I'm just waiting for the (final) season, season 5, to arrive on Prime.

Ren Rating: An excellent choice for a binge bonanza. At least 7 stars. (Out of 10)  (Mmm, we need a star icon too.)
Interactive Stories Glade / Sci-fi/Fantasy - Walkabout - C...
Last post by Ren - Mar 11, 2020, 05:47 pm
"So, do I get to know your name then?" Ian asked the man, as the limo surged away. 

The man, who had taken a seat opposite him, looked at him even more coolly than before. 

Eventually, just as Ian thought he wasn't going to respond, he said: "You may call me Mr. Mann."

"A bit generic," replied Ian, but only half heartedly.  As cool as he was trying to appear on the outside, inside his head he was frantically trying to work out how to get away.  He wasn't sure how much time he had before they reached wherever they were headed.  The newly named Mr. Mann had already proved resistant to his charms, and the partition was up to the driver's section, assuming he could get through to the gorilla that was driving.

He looked out of the tinted window.  They were winding their way through the city streets.  It looked like they were heading towards the town centre.  No doubt Mr. Mann was staying at some expensive hotel.  Senior operatives like him usually did.

"I'm not very impressed so far," his captor said.  "I'd have expected you to do something by now."

"Well, if you're expecting it, then it's not a good time then is it?" Ian replied.  He scowled at his captive and wondered if he should try again on him.  If he concentrated...

"There's some kind of diversion ahead," came the voice of the driver over the intercom.

"What is it?" asked Mann, pushing the intercom button.

"It might be the Hand," came the driver's voice.  "It's probably a trap."

"Very well, drive..."

"Crash the car!!" Ian shouted, projecting as much strength into the command as possible.

"You fu..."

Mann's expletive was  cut off as the limo swerved violently, throwing Ian and his unwelcome companion to the side.

There was a loud noise, followed by several moments of weightlessness, followed by several more moments of, much more painful, non-weightlessness, which involved a lot of being thrown about the inside of the car as it rolled over.

After what seemed liked a thousand years, the car came to rest. 

Ian, aware of the urgency of his situation, recovered first.  Removing Mr. Mann's shoe from his face, he forced  himself upright. 

The car had come to rest on it's side, from what he could make out.  He was lying on top of his abductor, who was groaning.

"Go to sleep!" he ordered, trying to focus.

Mann immediately slumped back and stopped moving.

"Ha," muttered Ian.  Even people who were resistant to his charms often succumbed when they were confused or slightly out of it. It was why he was an advocate of drug taking in others.  It made his life easier.

"Yay, test passed," he muttered to himself as he tried to haul himself upright.

There was a moment of dizzyness, and he woke up again to see someone reaching down from above, through the broken window of the car.

"Come with me if you want to live," said a voice, just before he blacked out again.

~ * ~

"I think he's coming around," said a voice.

It was a cute voice, thought Ian.  A freckle faced, red haired kind of voice.  A voice that was brought up in the countryside. probably on a farm, and was fit as fuck...

He opened his eyes.

The girl that was looking down at him had emerald green eyes, freckles, and red hair that tumbled down over her shoulders.

"Fuck me," muttered Ian. "You know you sound just like your voice?"

"Really?" asked the girl, smiling a toothpaste-white smile.

"Except I was expecting a boy."

Ian passed out again.

~ * ~

"Well hello there," said another voice.  It wasn't the same voice as before.  This one belonged to an older male.  Ian knew this for a fact.

He opened his eyes.  Looking down on him was a man.  Grey hair, thin face, grey stubble covering his lower jaw.  A tired but kindly expression.  Everything about him screamed doctor.

"S'up?" asked Ian, woozily.

"You're going to be okay," the man said.

"Well, gee whizz.  Fancy a blow job?"

The man gave him a wry smile.  "I don't think you're up to that kind of exertion just yet," he replied. 

There was a noise, and the doctor looked around.

"He's awake," he said to someone else.

Ian managed, with no slight effort, to move his head slightly to the right.  He saw a familiar freckled red-haired, female face.  This time he noted how young she looked.

"Hey," he muttered.

"Can he talk?" Freckles asked the doctor, who nodded.

Ian watched as the medic gave him a quick once over before nodding at the girl, and the then leaving.

Freckles leaned over him, a serious look on her face.

"Hi there," he groaned.  "Fancy a fuck?"

"You're as strong as they said," she replied, a slight frown marring her features.

"I like to live up to..."

"Shut up."  Freckles interrupted. 


"We've exposed our entire organisation to get you," she went on. 

"Nice to feel wanted..."

"So if you don't live up to all the hype I will personally pull your brain out through you nose," she went on.

"How very Egyption of you," Ian said.

Freckles nodded and then leaned down next to him.

"You're a cute one, I'll admit," she said.  "And maybe that's part of your power, I don't know, but I don't have the time I'd like to find out either."

"Are we in a rush?" asked Ian, trying to exert his will slightly.

Her eyes narrowed.  "Don't."

Ian didn't.  He was simply to banged up.

"Better."  She sat back slightly.  "Listen, we're not enemies, but obviously They're onto us, and we're not ready, not strong enough to fight back yet.  We need time."

"And what?" Ian said.  "You expect me to do something about this?"

"Yes.  You have information that could tilt the balance," Freckles said.

"I find that unlikely," Ian replied, finding enough strength to push himself up onto one elbow.  "Still why don't you enlighten me?"


I could barely type this out I'm so drunk, but there you go what iwll be wil be.

So, what's the info that Ian knows?  Please help, 'cos I've no clue!

[Sober edit - I'd forgotten I wrote this! Lol.  When I found it today I went through this again and corrected the worst of the spelling mistakes.  I can't spell when I can't see straight apparently. ]

Audio Hill / Re: The Little Match Girl
Last post by Ren - Feb 25, 2020, 05:36 pm
Updated this!  Now visible and audio-able.
Interactive Stories Glade / Scifi/Fantasy - Apocolypto - ...
Last post by Ren - Feb 13, 2020, 08:30 pm
"Princess, they are waiting for you," May, her old servant, said.  May's eyes were on the floor, as was proper, but even so, Xy could feel the glare of impatience.  The princess didn't care.  She would come before her father when she was ready, and not before. It was her right!

Still, she thought, as she looked herself over once more in the mirror, even she had to admit that, finally, her attire was satisfactory.  Her long, pristine white robes hung down to her knees. A green sash was wrapped around her waist, and her simple gold necklace clung to her long, thin neck.  One thing was missing. Her main blade.  It was waiting for her in the throne room, along with the assembled court.  To be formally presented to her for her coming of age. She felt naked with only two daggers.

"Very well," she said.  "I am ready. Lead on May."

Xy stifled a rebellious titter at the servants sniff of disapproval. Using names for servants! Xy was traditional it as true, it would have been impossible not to be given her upbringing, but she also harboured thoughts of a more progressive nature.  Thoughts that, for now, she kept very well hidden. Even the next in line to the throne had to be careful when confronting the traditions that had dominated the empire for so long.

May led the way out of her chambers, and along the passage, through Xy's quarters.  Out of the doors, where two of the princesses' personal guards, both female of course, were standing at attention.  As she passed through they fell in behind her, walking in step, hands on their weapons, eyes darting left and right, ever vigilant.

Down the grand staircase, past more guards, house guards this time, and along the main corridor down to the throne room.  Those grand doors swung open slowly as she approached.  May stopped and stood to one side as they arrived, allowing her to enter.

Stepping inside the room, Xy's eyes went straight to her father, sitting on the imperial throne, dressed in all the splendour that could possibly be afforded to the Highest of the High.  His eyes met her in turn, and she thought she detected the hint of approval in them.  Her father had been her most staunch advocate through the years, to the point were he'd even taught in some of her weapon's classes.  An almost unheard of action. 

Xy glanced to her father's right, and steeled herself. Her mother was also looking at her, but this time it was a glare.  For reasons Xy had never really understood, her own mother had always hated her.  Xy's younger brother, on the other hand, could do no wrong.

The princess switched her eyes back to her father as she arrived at the base of the dais that his throne was placed on.  She fell to a single knee in front of him, and heard the collective intake of breath from the courtiers assembled for the spectacle.  Going down on one knee was usually reserved for a prince, and a warrior.

Her head held up defiantly, Xy stared at her father, daring him to say something.

The emperor merely made a very slight movement with his mouth, which she interpreted as a hint of a smile. 

There was a hiss of expelled air from the Empress, but her father ignored it.  Nodding, he allowed her to rise, which she did in one smooth motion.

"Xy, you are well come," the Emperor said. 

"I thank my Lord," she replied, dipping her head. The minimum courtesy.

Her father chuckled, obviously enjoying her show of bravado.  Inwardly, Xy smiled.  She knew him well.  He admired strength and courage nearly above all.  No matter who showed it.  It made him, in her eyes, the greatest man to ever sit on the throne.

"You are here because you are now a woman," the Emperor went on, this time in a louder voice, meant to be heard.  "Your childhood, that carefree time..."

Xy swallowed a grimace.  Hardly carefree.

"... is over.  Now you are here to proclaim your title and your ambitions."

Nodding again, this time in acknowledgement, Xy smiled.  The security this offered was invaluable to her.  With this ceremony, her place as heir would be nearly unassailable.

"Before I carry on," intoned her father, as the ritual prescribed.  "Does anyone have any objections?"

Xy held her breath.  It was unlikely that anyone would stand up, knowing how fond of his daughter the Emperor was, but even so...

The required time passed, and the Emperor nodded.  "Very well, I now declare Zheal Xy Ghlv Cha Zibath, my heir and woman proper, child no longer."  Her father looked at her.  "It is your right to demand a boon."

"My sword," she replied instantly.  No surprise there.  "And..."

"Two?" The Emperor raised an eyebrow.  "Speak on then."

Xy smiled, half mischief and half amusement.


Oh, didn't see this coming. Now it's there though, what could she also ask for?  Bear in mind she's in a very formal, rigid society. Imagine old Japan, but more so.

Let's have your ideas, assuming anyone is still here...

Interactive Stories Glade / Scifi/Fantasy - The Other One ...
Last post by Ren - Jan 31, 2020, 08:41 pm
She pouted, and put a finger to her lips. 

"Oh god, please don't do that," Mike said.  "J... Just tell me what I need to do."

"You're a good boy," She said, stroking his face. "I knew you were special the first time I saw you mess your pants."  She fondled his lower regions and he whimpered.

"These so called 'nuns'," she went on, "have summoned me forth, but now they have, they keep me imprisoned here.  Isn't that so cruel?"  A tiny kiss on his cheek.  "Mike?"

"Ohhhh, yes. Yes.  Yes!" Mike replied, quivering. 

"So, I just need a little favour from you, and then we can be together.  Will you help me?"

"Of course!"  he said.

She smiled, and Mike's world turned golden.


Mike wiped his brow as he typed.  He'd searched the local area, but there was nothing.  He had to go wider.

Glancing to one side, he took in the pile of, for want of a better word, he'd called ingredients.  They'd mostly been easy to get.  Black candles featured heavily, as had, surprisingly, chocolate.  The untanned cow hide had been a bit harder, but a visit to a local abattoir had sorted that out, and what he'd been assured was goat's blood too.  He was a bit concerned about that, as he could only see cow parts in the abattoir. Still, there was nothing to do about it now, and surely blood was blood?

Now he was searching on online, looking for an abandoned church.  One seemed harder to find than he would have thought, given the number of churches in the country. 

It took another half an hour before he found one that looked like it would suit, and most of the next day hiring a car and travelling there, and scouting the location out.

It really was abandoned, and not within direct line of sight to any dwelling, which was a definite plus.

Eventually Mike wiped his brow and stood back, taking the whole building in from the slight rise in the road where he'd parked the car. 

"This will do," he said.


The church, Saint Andrew's it had been called, was just outside of a small village with the unlikely sounding name of Old Marzipan.  There was no clue as to where 'New Marzipan' was.  The building itself had been boarded up for about ten years, and was suitably Gothic and old-style spooky.  If looks could contribute to demonic worship, this was the place indeed.

Mike nodded to himself as he pushed his way through the hedge carrying his supplies.  Apparently the ritual had to be done at midnight.  As a dedicated coward, Mike was not looking forward to that part.

Still, he scuttled through the graveyard (graveyard!!) and made his way to the side door that he'd forced open earlier with the crowbar he'd, with impressive foresight, brought along.

The main hall - there was probably a name for it, but as a dedicated Atheist Mike didn't know what that was - was gloomy even whilst there was still daylight, and he shivered. 

"Better get on with it," he muttered to himself.

This was his last trip ferrying in supplies, and he dropped the bag next to the rest of the stuff.  He'd already drawn the pentagram, most carefully, in the chalk mixed with the (hopefully) goat's blood, and placed the black candles at the points required. 

He pulled the cow skin out of his bag and unrolled it on the floor, smoothing it out, and then sat back. 

Now it was just a case of waiting.


He woke with a jerk at eleven forty five as his alarm went off.  The portable lamps he'd brought and turned on earlier lit the church around him, somehow making the darkness beyond even more terrifying. 

"Concentrate on the task at hand," he chided himself, thinking of Her. 

Taking out the lighter he'd bought at the local shop, he carefully made his way around the pentagram, lighting the candles.  Their flickering glow just added to the spooky atmosphere. 

Task done, Mike kneeled on the cow skin and took a deep breath.  "This will be worth it!' he told himself. 

He opened the notebook with the words that She'd given him, that day in the school.  It seemed so long ago now, and the whole thing had a dream-like quality to it, but it had only been a few days ago.  Still, it had propelled him forward, driven by a force that he didn't entirely understand, and yet...

Shaking his head, he looked at his watch. 


Mike took a deep breath, and spoke the seven words.  Nothing.  This was, apparently, to be expected.

He paused and then repeated them. 

Was that a breeze?

He repeated them once more, and this time there was certainly a response. 

The candles flared.  A dull, red, some would say demonic glow appeared in the centre of his pentagram. 

He stood up, stepped back and watched.  The glow became stronger, brighter, until he had to shield his eyes and look away.

There was a low hum, building up to a crescendo until, at what was probably exactly midnight he worked out later, a large, dull explosion, and a flash of red light.

Mike lowered his hand from his eyes and looked at his work.

There was a man in the centre of the pentagram. He was tall, muscular and dressed in the coolest long black cloak. 

The man looked at him with eyes that seemed to glow.  He was clean shaven and totally bald, though he was wearing what appeared to be dark red makeup around his eyes, it was difficult to see in the low light. 

"So, you're Mike I take it?" the stranger said.

"Who the fuck are you?" Mike replied.

"I'm Azerus."  The newcomer smiled.  "You're cute."

"Oh fuck," Mike said.


So, how the hell is this 'person' going to help Mike get 'Her'?  Any ideas?  'cos I'm all out.

But WTF, at least I wrote something right? And I'm only a bit drunk.


Edited slightly 02/02/20
Interactive Stories Glade / Scifi/Fantasy - The Other One ...
Last post by Ren - Jan 27, 2020, 07:30 pm
Okay then, polling!!
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Mar 11, 2020, 05:49 pm Ren says: Another episode of Walkabout has finally been posted! Woot.

Feb 13, 2020, 08:31 pm Ren says: New episode of Apocolypto is now up! Woot. [

Jan 31, 2020, 08:45 pm Ren says: Another episode of The Other One is posted!

Jan 27, 2020, 07:31 pm Ren says: Right then, The Other One is now polling!

Jan 26, 2020, 09:12 am Ren says: Another episode of Theodore Chance is now up!

Dec 31, 2019, 07:00 pm Wanderer says: I don't think I did anything with the snowflake colour!  Anyway, Happy New Year to all![color]

Dec 30, 2019, 04:57 pm Ren says: Happy New Year to everyone! - More of Theodore Chance has been posted! [/b]

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