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May 2010
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Sephiroth, I BEG TO DREAM AND DIFFER FROM THE HOLLOW LIES...ON HOLIDAY!!
(last edited May 10, 2010 08:39PM)
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The dragon opened his luminous pale blue eyes. The gave off an eerie, strange glow down in the depths of that blackness. He blinked once and shifted.
As he shifted, he felt the acute cold of the black seafloor, with its lack of light and small creatures. The dragon shook hinself and blinked once more, this tine flipping his massive tail and moved forward.
He moved. Something he hadn't done in ten thousand years...ten millenia had passed since the Grand Council disbanded and the dragons that made up the Grand Council chose to slumber until the time was right.
Well, the time was finally right. Bellow was awakening after ten millenia beanth the sea. He lifted his massive head and opened his jaws and let out a noise.
Something echoed in the sea; the others all felt it. It was a noise akin to an earthquake, but with a more garting note to it. Every dragon in the waters felt shaken to his core as the great dragon Bellow awoke from his slumber.
But the dragons of the seas did not fear Bellow; they regarded him, rather, as a guardian. A guardian against what, they all knew. But they did not fear Bellow. Not as they feared the dragon next to rise....
Across the seas and deep, deep, even deeper into the interior of the land than any but the bravest dared go, another was awakening.
Arsaxen became aware of the cold, stale air in his chamber as he blinked dull red eyes that had not seen light in five millenia. He opened his jaws in a yawn that would rival most. The teeth were long and sharp, stained both yellow from age and lack of care and blood from years of hunting and killing the humankind.
Arsaxen growled as memories of his battles with the humans rose to the surface of his memory. The growl echoed and reverberated thoughtout the chamber and down a massive hall.
Arsaxen gazed up toward the top of the chamber, trying to remember exactly where he'd lain to slumber. He immediately recognized the jagged edges of the ancient volcano. He rumbled affectionately at the memory and opened strong black wings.
He blasted his wayh out of the side of the volcane and clambered out into the light, his talons screeching on the stone like nails on chalkboard. He hissed at the light and the dark, swampy terrain. He lifted his head to the sky and opened his massive jaws.
The scream resounded through the bones of every dragon near the Swamp Forest. It made the younger ones fear for their lives and the lives of their younglings.
The scream sounded as if it came from the pits of all the Hells themselves. It was an angry, screeching noise that grated like stones against metal at the same time. An awful noise. And then it stopped. Silence again. Maybe the littler dragons had nothing to fear after all. But then they spotted the massive Arsaxen's frame rising above the Broken Volcano, and they knew their terror was rightful and real.
*Icefire's entry/entries(If I have time)*(Will finish later)The night was cool, but tonight, the wind carried no sound. Quite unusual, for a forest bigger than New York City. Every now and then, you could see a glimpse of an animal, then they'd disappear into the shadows, like they were afraid.
A raven flew through the night sky, nearly invisible with it's night-black feathers. The clouds covered the stars, and it was a new moon tonight. With a flick of its wing, the raven descended, landing in the middle of a clearing. It blinked, opened its beak, and let out a soft caw. That was the signal. All was safe to proceed.
A dark shape rose out of the dark undergrowth. At first glance, many creatures thought he was a necromancer's work, and Creature didn't blame them. He was, after all, an undead bull skeleton. But he was not a work of Dark Magic. No, he was a great piece of Life's magic, reanimated from the bones of his once living body. But now, he could live forever, doing what he liked most.
Fighting.
Trotting out of the shadows, he flicked his bone tail. One by one, the army of the shadows came out. Bloodhounds(jet black wolves with bloody paws), Aruos(Demon horses with a flaming mane and fire eyes), Black Pegasus, Shadow Walkers, Hellhounds and more came out of the bushes, slinking forward with bloodlust in their eyes. They were called up for one reason only. To serve Blade.
Blade was the master. Necromancer, terrifying warrior, brave leader, and cruel punisher. He was the one that raised all of these monsters out of the pits of Hell. He was to punish the little villages of Sinata. They would not submit to his rules. Therefore, they must be destroyed. Any that opposed Blade would be destroyed.
Creature raised his head to the dark sky and let out a loud bellow. Instantly, the demons raised their heads and screeched in unison, letting their attack be known. The sound was horrible, five times worst than metal scraping metal, or nails clawing down a chalkboard. Instantly, the village came to life, fires lit, and rays of bright light shinning on the invading army. Creature wasn't concerned about this. They had no need for surprise, because they had the advantage in skill, size and numbers.
And with one more bellow, the army of the night surged forward, laughing and shrieking with excitement.
Let the bloodshed begin. Creature thought as the first scream rang out.
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Once, long ago, there was a young man who lived in a cottage beside a sea. The cottage was just the right size, with a bathroom, a kitchen, and a bedroom which would have doubled as a family room, had he had any family. Because he lived somewhere off the coast of New England, in a secluded cove, the weather was grey and chilly a majority of the time. He rarely interacted with the inhabitants of the nearby village.
Any average young man would detest this existence. This young man bore it with unfailing patience, because he had been instructed to do so by an old witch-mother. He had been walking along that very beach on an unusually sunny day when he was a child, when she appeared--as if out of nowhere--from behind a stone.
"The perfect love will appear for you on this beach when you are much older," she had said in a raspy voice, but it contained a certain lilting quality. The little boy had been entranced, but then the old woman coughed, a short, catching sound that resembled the tide slapping into an enclosed cove. This broke the spell, and he ran.
Many years later, he had almost forgotten the incident. He was about to move away, go to college, have a future, when the woman appeared to him, as he was saying goodbye to the beach he had often played at. "Do not forget," she had said, her voice less raspy and more powerful. From then on, the young man had remained under her spell. He had given up his future, his plans, his life, to live near the beach, waiting for his "perfect love."
His parents, friends, everyone left him to do as he pleased, after trying for years to talk sense into him. He would not be swayed. Nothing, it seemed, would stop his strange behavior. His mother was the only person who still, stubbornly, visited him every week. The young man was irritated to no end with her, for her vists kept him
to be continued
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1. Have fun
2. short story must be 400 words or more.
3. the maximum is one post.
4. uh.... i dont really have any restrictions... cussing is okay, sexual stuff, keep it.... PG-13. I don't want to restrict your imagination flow. ^.^ I am starting this one today! Post 'em up!!