Writer’s Block

It was a cold and stormy night…

“Scratch that.”

CLASH! The thunder roared…

“No, no. That just doesn’t do.”

Once upon a time?

“Dammit! No.”

The sound of the typewriter clicking away and the backspace making white marks on the not-so-immaculate sheet of paper echoed around the room. If it were possible, sweat pooled around our frustrated writer and marks of perspiration stained the back and front of his shirt. He pulled at his head and titled his head back in preparation of an anguished cry. However, all that came out from his lips were the silent screams of a man with writer’s block.

“Why can’t I think of anything?” he said to himself out loud, glaring daggers toward the typewriter as if it were the cause of the man’s dilemma. “Dammit!”

He pushed away from the desk in front of him, causing his chair to screeched in pain as it slid across the wooden floorboards. His elbows fell against his knees and his head sank into his large and trembling hands. “This used to be so easy…” he told himself aloud, reminiscing on old times long ago.

Suddenly a knock came to his door and he stared at the manmade ‘people-stopper’ for a moment. The knock came again, but louder, and he had no choice but to rise from his seat and answer the call.

“What?” he said immediately, even before the door was fully open and he could see the owner of the knock.

“What a way to greet a girlfriend,” came a woman’s soft, but stern voice.

Our troubled writer instantly felt like jumping away and diving behind an object for protection of his beauty’s wrath. He smiled sheepishly and moved to the side, allowing the young woman room to enter. “I um, sorry,” he stuttered, watching the woman with a wary eye.

“You should be sorry,” she said, keeping her back toward him. “What the hell have you been doing these passed four days? This place is a pigsty!”

Her eyes roamed around the room, her lips upturning into a disgusted frown. There were leftovers from the last time she had visited all over the floor and couch. Fruit flies fly around like small vultures over the garbage can that held everything but the garbage. “It reeks in here! Don’t you know how to at least open a window?” she scolded, turning around and glaring at him.

“I’ve been busy!” he retorted, trying to defend himself from the storm he knew to be coming.

“Busy writing? Jason, please! Give it up! It’s over! If you’re going to continue then at least having some sort of other job to take care of yourself!” she yelled as she took a step toward him and away from the cluttered mess she was once glaring at.

“I never asked you to!” he roared.

Her jaw dropped from the shock of his words directed only for her. “Well, sorry for trying to help you!” she shouted back, anger pulling away from the mess and heading toward the man standing across from her.

“You could at least be more supportive of this! All that ever comes out from that mouth of yours is nagging and complaints!” he paused for a moment, only realizing what he had just said seconds later. His eyes widened and he just stared at her, bracing himself for her words.

“You want me to be supportive?” she asked, a bitter tone in her voice. “You want me to be supportive?” she repeated. “I have been! For five years, Jason! Five whole fucking years! What do I get for taking care of you, making sure you don’t choke on your own misery? Nothing! That’s what I get! Nothing!”

“I’m sorry Amy, I didn’t mean to…” he stopped himself when the girl’s evil glare intensified and all he wanted to do at that moment was to cower and hide.

Shades of Gray…

Here’s a small bit – a very small bit – of a short story that I’m working on. It’s so small that it’s barely a significance to anything but it might be enough to catch your eye.

Well, here it is.

—

Shades of Gray

“I think it all happened when the rain started to fall.”

I remember starin at the side of her face for moments at a time, wondering if she would ever more or even turn to face me. I remember her being still, like a scarecrow guarding its crops yet she shivered not from the cold, but from something else. The memory of it all was a bit blurry, like someone had made everything in shades of gray.

“What else?” the man sitting across from me asked, “What else do you remember, Jerry?”

“It was really quiet. There were no cars out, and no one else was around,” I replied, telling him only part of what I remember.

The next thing I could recall was that it was raining hard, really hard. It felt like someone was throwing large pebbles at me from the sky with a very angry flick of the arm. I had looked at her and she still didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch from the pain I knew she was feeling.

“Tell me everything, Jerry,” the man demanded. His voice was sterner and more intimidating, as if he thought fear would bring my memory back.

The Dark Knight – Chapter One

Chapter One: It Just Ain’t A Party Without Me

Five people stood tall and proud to the left of the stage with their heads held high and large grins on their faces. Each wore a robe like one would get during a graduation ceremony along with those little square caps. The colours they wore were a deep mahogany with a yellow ‘v’ draped around their necks. Three young men and two young women smiled to the large crowd below and tried hard not to jump with joy.

An elderly, kind of wrinkly, man stood in front of the podium with his back to the five but his face to the audience in front. He spoke slowly but clearly and would occasionally lift his hand to emphasize something he had said.

Batman: The Dark Knight Fan Fiction

Yeah, I started to write a fan fiction for The Dark Knight. I am compeltely obsessed with Batman/Bruce Wayne… He’s just so… <insert swooning sigh here>.

And, I’ve always been a fan of the Joker but after seeing that profermance of him in that movie I just fell even more in love! It’s all Joker and Batman/Bruce Wayne <3!

Here’s a little bit of what I have right now… I’m trying to aim for at least 5,000 words for chapter one. Enjoy!

Lucifer, continu’d

Yeah, I haven’t been able to think of a proper name for this yet. I’m just going along until a good title comes up. I’m not very good at titles… Really horrible. Terrible. Yeah… Title’ll come later on. 

But! Here’s a bit more of it, something of a “chapter one” you can say. And I’m sorry but a whole lot of the names might not be familiar with a few people… For a long while I went into deep, hardcore research about anything Angel and Demon. I even bought books and rummaged through many web articles. So… If you’re wondering about a certain name you can look it up but most information I got from books.

Anyway! Enjoy!

–

I stood staring out one of the many tall windows in my throne room. I could literally see that the city below was so large that it stretched out to the red horizon. Selective, yet still random, areas of the city floor spewed out fire that it almost seemed like the fire was trying to escape and reach for the sky.

My hands were folded behind me, clenching against each other yet the pain was much better than the one that I had been feeling for centuries. Knowing and feeling your strength being sucked away is just… is just…

It’s the crappiest thing ever.

I turned my focus away from the city below and toward my reflection against the glass of the window. I smiled at what I saw there, never regretting my choice. I kept my old form, the body that He gave me.

Now, don’t go thinking that I did it for some fucked up sentimental reason because I didn’t.

I kept the body to remind Him. To remind Him that I was once by His side. To remind Him that I was once his favourite, his strongest. I did it to remind Him of my betrayal so that he could feel… Pain.

It also set me apart from the others down here. My angelic wings, long ago turning black from the sins I had committed, made me stick out like a sore thumb. My dark hair and blue eyes made me look human. But my decision on keeping this form is the main reason why my strength was leaving me. It took great amounts of energy to keep masquerading around the way I do.

My head turned toward the door when I heard the distant sound of footsteps approaching the throne room. The wings on my back twitched of their own accord moments before the doors opened to reveal an old friend, Beelzebub.

“Beelzebub,” I said to him with a small grin on my face as I turned my body to face the door, “how’s the wreaking havoc and causing chaos doing?”

“The High Council wants to talk to you, Lucifer,” said Beelzebub, completely ignoring my rhetorical question.

“I don’t want to talk to the High Council; the High Council can go fuck themselves — in the ass,” I said with a smile. “With Belial! I’m sure he’s still into sodomy.”

I looked over Beelzebub’s appearance. He, too, decided to wear a more human-like form. The only exception of his form was that he had two ram-like horns poking out from his forehead and eyes the shade of blood.

“Lucifer,” he said through a clenched jaw, “You need to talk to the High Council! You and I both know that this throne room won’t be yours soon.”

My hand went to my chest, where a beating heart should be, and faked a frown. “Beelzebub,” I said feigned concern, “Is that a challenge that I hear in your voice?”

Beelzebub chuckled and turned to leave the room but stayed where he was by the door, his head turned to the side to stare at me. “We are just two of three pieces, dear Lucifer. If you die then I die with you, literally,” he said with half a smile.

“It’s good to know that you care about me and not yourself, Beelzebub,” came my sarcastic retort.

“Get to the council, Lucifer,” Beelzebub said before finally leaving the throne room.

I stared at the open doorway for a while, contemplating whether or not I should go and speak with the High Council. Despite my status in Hell, in my currently weakened state, the High Council could… Well, to put it bluntly, the High Council could gang rape me. Literally, those guys are a sick bunch of mother fuckers.

I turned around to face the window once again, still thinking. What devious plan will I think up now? Who knows! To be honest, I always think it up as I go.

The High Council is made up of the toughest demons in Hell, ranging from brains to brawns. Adramelech is the Chancellor and President of the High Council of Devils but that doesn’t mean he’s the strongest one of them. He only achieved that rank in status with his conniving little tricks.

The rest of the High Council is just other royalty heads like Aguares, the Grand Duke of Eastern Hell, and Astaroth, the Grande Duke of Western Hell. But they’re not the ones I’m worried about.

The one to worry about would be Apollyon, the King of Demons. He’s had his eyes on my throne since the creation of Hell. Greedy little bastard… Ha, I’m one to talk. He’s the supposed “bringer of death”, the one to bring the apocalypse. Please! Have you heard of his other name? Abaddon: the Lord of Flies.

Yeah, I can see why he goes by Apollyon.

I sighed and smacked my head against the window. I have no other choice but to go speak with the High Council. I just hope that they are thinking the same thoughts I am concerning Hell because Beelzebub is right.

If I die then the chain of events that follow will eventually lead to the destruction of Hell.

Oh yeah… No pressure, no pressure at all.