0304harrypotter’s Comments (group member since Apr 08, 2015)

0304harrypotter’s comments from the Discover: A Special Group for Struggling Writers group.

The cool night air breezed through the city of Metz, casting an eerie mood throughout the mildly populated city. As soon as all the shutters were closed and all the townspeople crawled under their blankets, a mysterious ripple appeared in front of the cathedral. Out of nowhere, a black steed erupted from the disturbance with a man covered in black as its rider. The steed halted in front of the magnificent, wooden double doors of the cathedral. The rider slowly held out his hands and slowly, a crow emerged from his palms. It took the note strapped to the steed’s neck, and flew off into the night. The rider grabbed the steed’s reins and they galloped off into the countryside, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Quentin Dupuis left Pampa Grill early into the evening. His apartment was on the other side of the cathedral on Rue de la Princerie. The Metz Cathedral loomed over him. He stared up at it, looking at its magnificent beauty. He broke his gaze upon the mighty structure and continued his walk home. Unbeknownst to him, a crow flew behind him and slowly swooped down and hit his back. Quentin recoiled and saw the crow flying away, then come back and to attack him once more.
“Stop it you stupid bird,” he muttered in French. Suddenly, the bird clawed at Quentin’s face and soon enough, Quentin was chasing the bird, rocks in hand. Quentin continuously lobbed rocks to knock the crow off balance and fall to its death, but it seemed the crow had the brain of a human and dodged every rock. The crow swooped down and perched on a tall branch. Quentin dropped the rocks, except one, and started to climb the tree. As soon as he was on the branch below the crow, he lobbed his last rock.
The crow held out its talons and caught the rock, no scratches whatsoever. The crow then threw it back and it hit Quentin’s face. Quentin reared in pain and fell of the branch. Quentin lifted his head up and saw that his body was crumpled and there were bruises and cuts everywhere. The rock left him with a swollen eye. The crow stared down at him as if he was the weakest peasant. Quentin looked at the crow and looked at it in disgust, but it was obvious who was the winner of this fight. The crow then opened its beak and a note fell out of it, drifting down and softly landed on Quentin’s face. The crow flew away into the night sky. Quentin stood up (with difficulty) and unwrapped the string. He unfurled the letter and read as carefully, but as quickly as he could too. It read:

Quentin Jacques Dupuis,
It has come to my attention that you have been uneducated, lacking self-confidence, and you lack overall history on weaponry. In case you haven’t noticed, your world is in a state of disarray and unbalance. It is up to you to save your country and your loved ones, whether you like it or not. I have a task for you that you will not like but you cannot escape. You must participate in a worldwide artifact-hunt. You and a candidate from every country that exists in your world today, will fight to the death and uncover secrets, artifacts, and a truth that will break each and every one of you. You will be transported to the Lair in precisely ten minutes after reading this letter. I will explain more at that given location I have provided. For your information, this is not a prank letter, or anything else but what it really is. This letter will vaporize into thin air ten seconds after you finish reading so read it carefully. I will be generous and I will allow you to take as many weapons as you can handle. In ten minutes, meet the crow at the tree or before. Any time more than the given time will result in the loss of your weapons, and the increase of your death rate. Your ten minutes precisely has now begun.

Signed,
The Director

Quentin gazed horrifically at the note. Within ten seconds, the note came true. It vaporized into thin air, without a trace of its existence. Quentin, now mindful of the time, ran home as fast as his teenage legs allowed him. He grabbed a small string bag as he passed by the front door. He grabbed the family dagger, a bronze retractable shield, a few bottles of water, a smoke bomb of his own creation, and a pack of beef jerky. Within seconds, he was outside the door and halfway on Rue Four du Cloitre. His timer watch was now at a minute left. He wouldn’t make it in time! Suddenly, the cathedral appeared out of nowhere and Quentin stopped at the gnarled chestnut tree.
Now that he thought about it, he realized that all trees here in Metz, especially the cathedral, had cherry trees. This was a chestnut. Not to mention, this tree had a rather curved trunk, as if there was a concealed slide inside. Quentin placed his hand on the branch. The branches were artificial, and the leaves had the texture of sawdust.
Meep! Meep! Meep! Meep! Went the watch. With the blink of an eye, the crow perched, cold eyes glaring. Quentin glared back. The crow swooped down and landed on Quentin’s arm. Without moving, Quentin watched as the crow slowly cut open his skin, and placed a tiny pin into his arm. The crow then stuck a tube into the small opening of the pin and secured its beak around the tip. The crow sucked up about half a pint of blood before it stopped the operation and stitched Quentin’s skin.
The crow flew back up to the chestnut tree. He circled the trunk and found an owl’s nest somewhere near the canopy of the tree. He waddled in, and in mere seconds, the tree turned transparent. The crow indicated for Quentin to follow. Quentin climbed up the tree, branch by branch. Quentin crawled through the hole and found it was much larger that it appeared. The crow hit a big, fat red button and the opening closed behind him. For a second, everything was still. But then, the bottom of the hole opened up into a slide. Without stopping himself, Quentin slid down the slide and only could watch as the tree began to melt and the city of Metz vanished right in front of his eyes.
He slid for about a minute before he came to an abrupt stop. He exited the end of the slide and walked into the cramped space of the tiny room. Quentin was positive that he wasn’t at the Lair yet, but the air seemed different, otherworldly, strange, unusual, …peculiar. He felt as if he were in Auschwitz, right now, in the poison gas chambers. Unfortunately, that was what it was for. As soon as he passed the red line a foot from the exit, the room closed behind him. Green-colored gas started to fill the room. Quentin, now unable to move, squinted to see the crow in a glass cube, safe and sound. Then, everything went black.