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Fantasy - Modern Diaries. Draknor! by Ren
Aug 06, 2020, 08:24 pm

Scifi/Fantasy - Apocolypto by Ren
Aug 02, 2020, 11:56 am

Horror - Alice by Ren
Aug 02, 2020, 11:54 am

Romance - One More Time by Ren
Aug 02, 2020, 11:53 am

Drawing 5 minute videos-- start voting by Ren
Jul 23, 2020, 10:11 am

Mojeys by Ren
Jul 08, 2020, 03:43 pm

Scifi/Fantasy - The Other One by Ren
Jun 22, 2020, 06:35 pm

Welcome to the Hollow by Wanderer
Jun 18, 2020, 01:16 pm

OP is now on Insta! by Wanderer
Jun 08, 2020, 04:54 pm

Youtube and animation by Poison
Jun 03, 2020, 04:08 pm

Recent posts

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1
avatar_Ren
Interactive Stories Glade / Re: Fantasy - Modern Diaries. ...
Last post by Ren - Aug 06, 2020, 08:24 pm
Mmmm.  Well, if it's going to be a date, then it has to be dinner yesno?  So a diner for these Others.  With specific foods.   :o
2
avatar_Poison
Interactive Stories Glade / Fantasy - Modern Diaries. Co...
Last post by Poison - Aug 05, 2020, 06:37 pm
Mike took another pull on his (normal) drink and smacked his lips before looking at me again.

"You know how I've been... curious about the Others, ever since you came out to me," he said. The Others is a generic term for non-humans some people use.

"Sure,"  I replied, narrowing my eyes.

"Well, some time ago, a representative, let's call them, came to me.  Said they could introduce me to certain, ah, aspects of the Others."

"I see," I said, wondering how this person had known that Mike had known.  Something to ask once the main event had been revealed.  "And what did you have to do in return?"

"Nothing much," Mike said.  "Just sponsor a group, supply them with... supplies and a place to meet."   He shrugged.

"And?"

"Well, I had to have a certain level of involvement."

"You're the High Priest are you?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Bugger.  Mike!  This is dangerous stuff!" 

"I know what I'm doing," he said. 

"Well, could you do me a favour do you think?  It's a big one, I'll owe you."

"Go on," he said, sipping more whisky.

"I need to convert one of your followers." 

He was quiet for a moment, but then he nodded.  "Very well, then.  I can arrange something I think.  For you."  He smiled.  "Now, enough business.  Another drink?" 

I spent the rest of the day, into the evening, drinking and chewing the fat with Mike.  It was a pleasant change after the last few days, and I was reluctant to leave in some ways, but I had work the next day.

So I staggered out and drove home.  Yes, yes, drink driving, I know, but I don't do it often, and the roads to my place were fairly quiet, plus fuck it.  Sometimes you have to be evil.  It's not as if I'd blow positive if breathalysed.  Not sure what would happen there actually.

So I swerved into my parking space, staggered into the lift and my apartment, and fell into my bed.

~

Next morning I 'woke' as usual and took extra care with my masking routine.  I'd let it lapse a bit the previous day.  That done, I collected my usual things and drove back to work.

Parking in my usual place, I took an extra look around before climbing out of the car, just in case.  Nothing.

So I strolled into my office, nodding at various acquaintances along the way.  The company that I worked in was a branch of a larger organisation, and as such was the same as every major corporation everywhere.  Large offices full of cubicles, desks, meeting rooms and, for the likes of us management types, smaller offices around the walls.

"Morning Jenny," I said to my nextdoor neighbour.

"Nice of you to turn up," she replied, but in a mild enough way.  Jenny wasn't exactly friendly with me, but we got along well enough.  "I covered for you yesterday by the way," she added.  "In the the Parker meeting.  Sent you an email with the notes."

"Thanks," I replied, kicking myself.  I'd forgotten about that meeting.  Parker LTD was an important client,  No doubt Jenny had taken the opportunity to talk 'smack' about me, I believe the term is.  Ah well, office politics.  Better than murdering people and eating their brains.  Mostly.  That reminded me, I needed to eat tonight.

Anyway, I settled in and spent the next hour catching up with my emails.  Honestly, an hour wasn't enough, but I'd developed the art of binning the ones I knew weren't important without even opening them.  Then I went through the ones that may have something important quickly, before paying attention to the five percent that actually needed something doing.

I was considering a break when there was a knock on my door, which I kept open for the most part. 

It was Samantha.  I attempted a sigh and looked at her.

Samantha was, ostensibly, our IT person.  However, she was really more than that.

"Hello good looking.  Took a sick day I heard," she said, sauntering in and sitting down on the opposite side of my desk.  "Not very likely I think, so what really happened?"

"Come on Sam, can't a man have a day off to rest?"

"A man yes," she replied, and suddenly leaned over my desk, coming face to face with me.  "An undead, no!"

As you probably guessed, Samantha knows about me.  And the reason she knows is, she can tell what I am, instinctively.

That's because she's a necromancer.

Now I know what you're going to say, and no, she's not the one that raised me.  That one is long dead, or so I sincerely hope any way.  Necromancers have a habit of being hard to kill, or staying dead for that matter.

However, no, Samantha was just your average, everyday death mage.  And she wanted me. 

She wanted, and this is hard to even say, she wanted to go out with me.  On a date.  I mean, how sick and twisted is that?  She has the power over death, over the dead - which always puts the willies up me - and wants a date?  There has to be something more, so I'd always kept my distance as much as possible.

"Fine," I said.  "I was attacked.  I need to get some work done."

"Really?" she sat back down.  "Why didn't you come to me then?  I'd have helped, you know that."

That actually gave me pause.  I could have gone to her.  I mean, for a death mage, Sam wasn't a bad person. And I'd not have had to pay such a high price.

"Sam," I said.  "I truly am sorry.  I didn't think..."

"Fine," she retorted, "but now you owe me one.  So you're going to take me out tonight.  And I know exactly the place too."

"It's not a necromancer place is it?" I asked.  "I don't think I'd be comfortable..."

"Don't be silly," she said, standing up and skipping out.  "Pick me up at eight."

I sighed as she skipped off.  What had I let myself in for?


Odd place to stop I know, but I'd like to know details of where Samantha wants to take him later.  Any ideas at all welcome.  Oh, and not just a nightclub please!
3
avatar_Ren
Interactive Stories Glade / Re: Scifi/Fantasy - Apocolypto...
Last post by Ren - Aug 02, 2020, 11:56 am
Good idea there Poi!   I can certainly use that. 

Thanks for reading!
4
avatar_Ren
The Traditional Trail / Re: Horror - Alice
Last post by Ren - Aug 02, 2020, 11:54 am
Gosh.  Horror's not really my number one genre, but this reads really well. 

Again, keep it coming.  Look forward to seeing  where this one goes.
5
avatar_Ren
The Traditional Trail / Re: Romance - One More Time
Last post by Ren - Aug 02, 2020, 11:53 am
Nice one Bizzy!  It's been a long time since I read any of your non-poem stuff, and this is right up there with the high standard I've come to expect! 

I think Poi said it all, a strong start.

Keep it coming! 

Oh, and welcome to the OP!  ;D
6
avatar_Poison
Interactive Stories Glade / Re: Scifi/Fantasy - Apocolypto...
Last post by Poison - Aug 02, 2020, 07:51 am
Oh ho! 

Good long chapter there Ren. 

I'm going to say we need to try and find a way to get the 'real' humans see the 'real' melted man's form.  Then, in the chaos that will inevitably follow, either escape or attack or both.

Sorry for the delay in replying, been a bit busy of late.
7
avatar_Poison
The Traditional Trail / Re: Horror - Alice
Last post by Poison - Aug 02, 2020, 07:49 am
Gosh, that was gripping Mister Biz.  I was drawn more and more into it as it went on. 

You certainly have an intense writing style! 
8
avatar_Poison
The Traditional Trail / Re: Romance - One More Time
Last post by Poison - Aug 02, 2020, 07:45 am
 :o   Wow, that's a strong start there Mister Biz!  Great imagery!  Very strong writing.

I look forward to seeing more.   
9
avatar_Mister Biz
The Traditional Trail / Horror - Alice
Last post by Mister Biz - Aug 02, 2020, 01:38 am
Chapter One

Jack

20 Years Ago

       
The screams are what pulled Jack out of the darkness. At first, he was sure that they were just inside his head, just like the darkness was. The cacophony of chaos continued and as his eyes fluttered open, he found that it was indeed real. Jack's head rolled to the head to the side as the wails around him became clearer and consciousness made its self known. The cries and bellows of his fellow patients had once struck terror into his heart. It was an unholy symphony that had stolen many hours of sleep from him. It was a soundtrack to uneasy nights of sobs and sorrow.
       
Except for Thursdays, however. On Thursday, the noise was more than welcome. It meant that he was still in possession of some sliver of his mind. He could hear and process all the sounds around him. He was still alive for another day.
       
It was Thursday and in his drowsy state, he relished the screams. The world around him seemed blurred and grey as if shrouded in fog. Logically, he knew that the mist wasn't real. It was just a distortion of reality caused by the drugs in his system and the procedure he had just been subjected to. Logic told him that the noise wasn't the only tether he had to this world.

Unfortunately, Thursdays weren't a good day for logic. It was a day full of contradictions that always ended in him believing in the grey nothingness around him. He wanted to walk into it and disappear. It was just too bad that Thursdays were also bad for walking. Thursdays were the days of the Rolling Mornings and Dragging Afternoons that led into the Immobile Nights.

Due to his inability to walk himself back to his cage, the teen was dragged back by two men of considerable size. The tips of his toes dragged across the concrete yet he barely felt it. He barely felt the grasp of the ape-like men on either side of him He would feel their hands later though when the drugs left and the bruises came. It was then he would feel everything again and in extra doses. That was when the weeping started.

After a minute, he noticed that the stone under his feet had stopped moving. He was at his home. There was the muted creak of a steel door being opened before he was moved and thrown forward. His brain perceived the act of falling but offered no alternatives aside from colliding with the floor with a thump. The door closed behind him and he was left alone, sprawled upon the floor like a broken doll.

He didn't know how long he spent on the floor but it felt like hours. Time seemed to pass slower in the grey. He lay with his eyes open, his breath heavy, trying to muster enough strength to move. His body felt leaden. It was as if his muscle fibers were replaced by steel and his blood with mercury. Just one more reason to hate Thursdays. By the time that he found the ability to move, the asylum was much quieter. The noise had found an end for the time being.

Jack pushed himself up and managed to crawl without the use of his legs to his bed. With a deep breath, he managed to pull himself up and onto the uncomfortable mattress and find a relatively comfy position on his side. Panting a bit from the exertion, the teen let his eyes roll around room. It was a medium sized room but barely furnished. There was the bed that he occupied, a sink that didn't work and a wooden chair. The key furnishing of the entire room was the full length mirror that sat in the corner. While a few other rooms may have had a small mirror over a sink, his room was the only one to have the six-foot-one masterpiece.

The Mirror was a "gift" from his mother. She ran the institution. She told him that the mirror was a present for being a good boy but he knew the truth. She wanted to torture him with his own reflection. It hadn't worked at first. But after days of being alone with it, it crawled deep into his skull. It made its way under his skin the way most things did here.

Jack's eyes lingered on the mirror for a second, thankful that it was angled at a way that he couldn't see himself. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut and he found himself trying to sleep. But thanks to his treatment earlier, his body was rejecting the activity. After a long while of trying, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he was being watched. He could feel the eyes staring holes into him. While most would chalk it up to an orderly or a doctor peering in, Jack knew better. He wasn't alone in his room. He never was.

"How'd it go today, Jackie Boy?" a voice said.

Jack's eyes snapped open. He didn't respond to the question. Instead, he just stayed motionless and peered into his empty room. A part of him prayed that the owner of the voice wouldn't speak again. The rest of him knew better. He knew the owner of the voice. They had spoken before and each time it had been thoroughly unpleasant. It always ended with tears and laughter. Jack's tears and the cruel, unforgiving cackling of his tormenter.

"Oh, tryin' to be silent again, eh?" the voice said. "You know better than that, don't ya, Jackie? You know that that doesn't work on me. Now tell me, how was your treatment?"

"You know how it went," Jack moaned as he pulled himself to the edge of the bed. He pulled himself over and crashed down to the thick solid ground beneath him. There was a loud slap of his flesh upon the concrete that reverberated around the room. The sound was almost as painful as the collision.

He mustered his strength again and pulled himself to and into the chair that was positioned well enough to face the person that was talking. It was the mirror. Or rather, it was the person within the mirror. His own reflection. Except, there was something very different and very wrong with the alternate version of himself.

Overall, they could appear to be the same individual. They were both teenagers of about sixteen with unwashed black hair, albeit with Mirror's being longer, and the pale, almost too pale, flesh. They had the same round, grey eyes and the aquiline nose. They had the long face with the pointed chin. That was where the similarities stopped. Mirror Jack, or Mirror as Jack called him, was not dressed in the same gray sweats and t-shirt combination that Jack was. Instead, he was clad in a slate grey three piece suit complete with a crimson necktie. There was also a top hat perched upon Mirror's skull to hide the messy mop of hair. A hat that Jack recognized from Doctor O'Hare's office. The final difference was that Mirror was smiling. The smile was an act Jack had long relinquished. Not since his mother made his favorite give him up as a patient.

"Rough day, then?" Mirror said in a voice that was much deeper than his own.
"Aww, poor Jackie." Mirror put on a look of sympathy that lasted only seconds before his lips started to creep upwards. His body shook as he fought the urge to laugh. Moments later and Mirror erupted into vicious laughter. The sound was loud and echoing. The pitch rushed into his ears and deep into his brain. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Jack leaned forward and flattened his hands against his ears.  With desperation, he tried to block the sound out. It was no use though. The harder that he tried, the louder that Mirror got.

"What's so goddamn funny?" he shouted when the sound became too much. He tried to jump to his feet but he only got an inch above the chair before he fell back into it.

"You are, dear boy. Every Thursday, you are put through hell. You are made an unmoving blob of blubbering and you do nothing to stop it. You just let it happen and then bitch about it after."

"I don't just let it happen," Jack said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "What am I supposed to do? Tell them no? It won't do any good. They'll just drug me up some more and then do it anyway."

"Nah, that ain't why," Mirror said as a chair appeared allowing him to sit and lean back. "You do it because you know you belong here. You're just one more barking dog in the kennel."

"No, I don't," Jack snapped, leaning forward and falling off of his chair. The fall hurt as much as it usually did but he managed to recover quicker. He looked up and stared into the eyes of his doppelganger. "I'm not crazy."

"Says the kid talking to a mirror. No, my boy, you belong here. You are quite mad. Insanity is defined as doing the same shit and expecting something new to happen. Ain't that what you do on a daily basis? You, kid, are a pure, grade-A, nutter.

"I don't have a choice," Jack shouted, his voice cracking a bit. It seemed his voice wasn't ready for such an exertion. "My mom is the fucking queen of this place. What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't have a choice," Mirror said. His face scrunched up in overly-dramatic sadness. He raised his fists and moved them in front of his eyes to mimic wiping tears. "My mommy is mean to me. Why doesn't she love me? Boo-hoo-hoo."

Jack lowered his gaze and placed his head back on the floor. He covered his face with his hands as tears started to fall. Above him, Mirror burst into another bout of loud, eardrum crushing cackling. This was the way that their conversations usually ended. Mirror would end up mocking Jack about how his mother had seemingly made torturing her son with medical procedures a new pastime. Each time, it brought back memories of how he had been locked up and how he had begged. The look in her eyes had been one of utter contempt.

"Why do you make fun of me?" Jack asked. "Why do you hate me?"

Another loud blast of laughter from Mirror.

"Oh, I don't hate you, Jackie," Mirror said as the laughter died down. I'm just trying to talk some sense into you. You see, you just sit there and let things happen to you when there is always another option. You go through the motions and hope they change. That is madness, my boy. Pure insanity. The only sane thing you did was steal the stuffed cat under your bed."

"I had to have him. He's my only reminder of home. I had to have him. He's mine."

"That's the spirit. Yes. You see it, don't you? You saw what you needed and you took it," Mirror said, excitement brimming in his eyes. "Even if it meant taking a risk. Your mind is yours too. You can take control of it. You can be in total control. There is a way. You can leave here. All you have to do is let go of this realm."

For the first time in ever, he liked what Mirror was saying. Mirror was offering an escape. He pulled himself forward until his fingers were just inches away. That's when he noticed something that he hadn't before. A small, subtle glow emanated from it. The surfaces had an extra layer of shine to them. It was too bright. Too perfect.

"How?"

"Simple. Join me in here. Step beyond the boundaries of your hell and into a world all your own. You can be in charge for once."

"But..."

"Just grab your little stuffed cat and come on in."

Jack nodded and pushed himself up. He forced himself up and crawled over to his bed before dropping back to the cement below. Under his bed, tucked against the back wall was the object he sought. A fluffy crimson cat. He had managed to sneak it in after a session with his old doctor. He managed to keep it because his mother made it so that his room was never searched for contraband. He knew no one outside the building and she was sure that he was too cowardly to do anything against the rules. His first smile in years spread across his face as he reached in and fished it out.

The instant he touched it, his strength seemed to return to him. With a grunt, he managed to push himself to his feet. Turning around, he staggered to the mirror. With the stuffed feline pressed tight to his chest with one hand, the other reached out and touched the surface of the mirror. It felt cool and liquid like water. Pressing them forward, he watched as they dipped through the surface of the glass. The rippling solid around his digits felt simultaneously boiling and freezing. Yet it was still not entirely painful. His eyes glanced over his shoulder and studied the door for a moment. He wondered if he should reconsider. No. It was a foolish question. He knew that he couldn't.

Looking once more to Mirror who was leaning against one side, he saw the other version of himself bowing. The black top hat now clutching in one hand.

"Come on in, Jackie Boy. A world of pleasure awaits you."
With a nod, he stepped forward. He stepped past his room and beyond the reflective surface of the glass. It only took a moment. One moment, he was in his room in his proper reality and the next, he had gone from the world that had abused him. He was now free to do whatever he wanted in a world he controlled. He had found a real home. He had found his own personal wonderland.
10
avatar_Mister Biz
The Traditional Trail / Romance - One More Time
Last post by Mister Biz - Aug 02, 2020, 01:33 am
Prologue

It was raining outside. I could hear it gently tapping against the window. The gentle sound of a million tiny collisions against the sides of my home resonated throughout it. Yet, one wouldn't think that there was any poor weather by looking outside. Apart from the tell-tale drops of water on the glass, there was no real sign that the precipitation existed. The sun shone brightly. The handful of darkened clouds appeared to be around more for providing effect than actual weather. Yet, it was raining nonetheless.
       
I sat on the edge of the bed and watched the drizzle for what seemed like hours. The pattern of the water running down the glass had me almost totally enthralled. Each drop pulled me deeper and deeper into a content daze. A miniature eternity passed by me as I sat and watched the rain fall. My trance was interrupted by a pair of slender arms sliding up my back and then wrapping around me. A small smile played across my lips as I cast a look over my shoulder to see who was behind me.

My gaze was met by a young woman with long, curls of crimson. She had caramel eyes that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight pouring through the window. Our lips met briefly in a gentle kiss. As it broke and she pulled back, I saw that she was smiling. Her lips pulled into a soft pink crescent. She slipped her arms from around me and strolled away. I watched her walk out of the room, her pink satin nightgown swaying softly with her every movement. Her steps were poised and graceful, no noise emanating from them. It was as if each footfall never connected with the hardwood. She strode on the sunlight itself.

Rising from the bed, I let out a deep breath and followed her from the bedroom into the equally bright living room. She glanced over her shoulder at me and flashed me a bright smile that shone even brighter than her eyes. Her ivory teeth, seemingly reflecting all the light in the room. She stopped in the middle of the living room and turned. In a soft yet sudden motion, she pivoted and started in a ninety degree angle. Still I followed; she opened a set of double doors and stepped out onto a balcony.

Following in her footsteps, I crossed the living room. On the balcony, I wrapped my arms around her narrow waist and kissed her neck softly. A soft sigh escaped her lips as I planted another soft kiss on her beautiful neck. I paused for a moment right above her neck, taking a brief moment to allow her scent to flow into my nostrils. She smelled faintly of lilac. Her favorite fragrance that she always made sure to spray upon her pillow before she laid down. Just to guarantee that she still smelled good when she rose in the mornings. It seemed like she always smelled of it. Always had a small bottle of perfume around to make sure it was constant. Always enough to be intoxicating but never enough to be considered overdone.

I planted a soft kiss upon her cheek before holding her tight and smiling softly. Small, cold raindrops fell upon us, yet we didn't care. We stood in silence, simply looking out at the city that lay below our lofty apartment in the sky. She placed a small hand upon mine and leaned back against me. I kissed the top of her head and took another breath of her scent.

The smell of lilacs and rainwater wafted into my nose as a small rumble of thunder came from overhead. I cast a glance at her and saw that her gaze was focused on the clouds above. I looked to the sky as well and saw that the sun was starting to disappear as the clouds that once just hung there merely for effect began to grow and shift. For some reason, watching the clouds above fascinated my companion but filled me with complete terror.

I let go of her and turned around. I stepped back into the living room, automatically hitting the light switch on my way in. I moved halfway through the room before looking behind me. My lover stood on the balcony, her arms outstretched. A single ray of sunlight remained outside, shining down gloriously upon the balcony and the angel that stood there. It reminded me of a movie I saw once. A long time ago.

A small smile pulled at my lips but it quickly retreated and I moved back into the bedroom. Turning on a lamp, I resumed my place at the foot of the bed. As I sat, I focused my gaze on the floor, avoiding looking at the window as the sound of the rain picked up pace, smacking forcefully against the glass. It was no longer light and nice. It was becoming forceful and violent. The light in the room was overpowered as lightning flashed outside and lit up the bedroom.

I buried my face in my hands and took a deep breath. Anxiety was filling me and I didn't know why. Something was amiss in this perfect world. The sun wasn't just dipping behind the clouds, it was vanishing. Being swallowed by the storm. Deep down, I knew that it couldn't be. It was just a storm but my fear convinced me otherwise. There was another flash of lightning that managed to penetrate my hands and closed eyelids.

As the bright light subsided, I could hear a light set of footsteps march up in front of me. I glanced up from my hands and saw my female companion standing there, completely drenched. Her hair hung to her shoulders, heavy with moisture. Her nightgown clung tightly to her slender form as she smiled down at me. He brought a hand up and gently stroked my cheek. Water flowed down her porcelain flesh and gathered in a puddle at her feet. It almost looked as if she was crying but with the water coming from her hair, it was hard to tell. She leaned in, kissed my forehead and then knelt down to stare directly into my eyes.

"You are going to get through this," she said, her sweet voice hovering in the air for a moment after she spoke, clinging to it like the rain and smell of lilac clung to her flesh. The way I had clung to her on the balcony. Her hand reached up and cradled my cheek as a tear suddenly appeared and rolled down. "I promise that you will. The storm will pass. It always does."

"Mona, please," I said. I leaned in to kiss her but before we could make contact, there was a loud boom of thunder that seemed to shake the entire world and she suddenly dropped out of my sight and sent me sitting bolt upright in bed.

I looked around and found myself out of the luxury apartment that I had been in just moments before. Instead, I was in a crummy downtown dwelling that reeked of booze, cigarette smoke, sweat and stale air that hasn't tasted a breath of anything fresh in a long time. The smell of lilac was completely eradicated. Gone alongside the dream. With Mona.

I sat in complete blackness; the single light in the room had burned out long ago. I wanted to scream for Mona, to tell her about my horrid nightmare. The differences between the dream and reality were slowly setting in. I felt the spot next to me in the bed and felt that it was cold. She wasn't here. She never was. Never would be.

She never set foot in this vile apartment. Hadn't been here to see me cover the ground in liquor bottles and to stay up until I passed out from exhaustion or alcohol. I hadn't felt her touch in years. Hadn't smelled lilac. I lay back down and took a deep breath as I focused on the blackness around me, listening as droplets of water slammed against my windows. Forceful and violent drops of water that crashed against the glass. It was raining outside.
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