Creative Writing discussion

Description:
Write a story with the main topic being about blood.

Restricted:
*No Vampires (Nothing about consuming blood)
*No Dialog
*Three Characters and under.

Requirements:
*None


((Try and create something for that. I'll post mine later.))

Title: Invincibility (Scripts1)
Description:

I watched as Annie whiped out the two scythe and deflected swords, soldiers, and arrows skillfully. Her jet black hair was pinned up above her head and she looked like a terrifying avenging angel. Sand blew up around her, the wind whipping away blindly. She was moutned on some neatly cut stones like a moving statue, and I could see the rage that was burning in her eyes connected with the soldier before the attacked, but they were going head on and couldn't stop in time, but were too scared not to try to stop, they would hesitate and Annie would use that hesitation to rip them apart with her scythes. It was gruesome, but I knew it had to be done.

I also knew what was had to be done, while Annie was a firece warrior I knew she couldn't hold them off forever. I turned to the fountain across the crimson-stained sandy battle zone, without a moment of hesitation, mostly beacause I knew if I did I'd never be able to go, I charged across the field deflecting oncoming soldiers. I got to the fountain in what would be record time at Jefferson High. But as I arrived the fountain wasn't filled with water, it was filled with what looked like
Blood.
It all made sense now,
The place where you will find the key to the knife,
will be in the pool filled with life
Sensi had been right. Blood is the key to life. It might not have been the most mystical saying but hey- whatever. I could see an emerald barely glinting through the red liquid. I knew I couldn't fish it out, so I ran towards it prepared to dive. The fountain approached me fast, and as I dove something thick and silky wrapped around my neck and yanked me back before I could touch the blood.

**Not Done**

Title: Chi

Description:

Taikai was taller then me. He always was, proubly always will be. "Sayashi?" he asked looking over at me. "What?"
"Your staring at me." I look away as i blush. "I'm just too pretty." he says smiling, then slips behind the dark corner into the ally. I follow, raising my gold dagger, just in case they deside to attack. "So you came." It was lighter then i thought it would be. The air was heavy with a gruling odar. "Yeah. Nice place you got, Yusuke." The boy in the front of the group smiles evilly. "geulimja scum." he says. "Who's your pretty friend?"

I glare at him, and raise my dagger, but Taikai blocks my arm. "It doesn't head hunter. Now give me the boy before you become my necklace ordiment."
"Tell you Geulimja friends they can't have him. He's ours." Yusuke smiles. "Don't think they'd swallow that well." I say. "We wouldn't want any accients now, would we?" Taikai is bouncing a ball of blue energy in his hand. "Get the boy." Yusuke snapps, watching others of his dirty kind wash into the shadows. They come back with the boy, tied to the chair bloddy. "That just about ---- does it." Taikai said, looking at the bloody boy. He raises his glowing blue sword and charges into the mass of demons. I follow, as i feel claws ripping at my arms already.

Title: Drained


I have no blood left. It had all been replaced… with poison. The reason I am still alive, I have no clue. All I know is that I’m alive and I’m being used. The people that replaced my blood were… I don’t know. It’s all blurry. When I think of it, the picture in my mind becomes as clear as tar. But I can remember what they said to me. They told me what they were doing, which was replacing my blood. And I could only remember that they were two men with all white on. But I don’t remember how I got there or how I am here today.
The have been… episodes, that I’ve been having since the day that happened. What I am doing, I have no idea until the moment it is over. I have been told that my eyes… turn the color blood red. And my actions are violent. I will not speak, and I’m… I’m unstoppable. My ex-friends tell me that the police officer of my school has tazed me with a tazer and actually shot me with a gun, twice.
I say ex-friends because they all hate me now. I’ve been kicked out of school, and taken to jail. And a picture of my eyes the color blood red was taken and shown to me. It was true. I feel like a monster. And now I’m in jail, tied with chains on my arms and legs, because I’m the “Devil Child”.
I am not a zombie. For me to be a zombie, I would have to have been dead once, and that didn’t happen (I’m pretty sure it didn’t). What happened to me is that I am being used like a puppet. The two men that swapped out my blood told me that I would be used when needed. And now I know what they mean. They can control my mind and actions, somehow.

But I don’t know what they want, or why they are doing what they are.

The thought of this pains me. In side. I don’t know when my episode will happen, but when they do, I just crawl up in a ball and cry. My sadness is great.

I’ve been to the hospital and the doctor said that I should be dead. And he called the police on me. And then I became a test experiment taken in by the United States Government.

News about me swept the nation, and I’ve even heard that other countries were trying to get in on my information. It got out of hand. And even wars were threatened to start. Just because me existence. My mom took the case to court more than enough times. And every time she lost the grant to my freedom. But she was able to force the tests on me to stop.

I am now, supposed to be dead. That is what the government of America announced on the news. They said that I died in my sleep, just to keep the press down and so that wars didn’t break out. I was then thrown in jail. Chained down to the ground. My bed.

The last episode that I had was the day that I was chained. I thrashed and tried to break the chains. But I couldn’t. And I haven’t had one since, which was because, with me chained down, the people controlling me had no place for me to go, they couldn’t do anything.

If this was those two men’s plan for me, just to put me in prison for life. Then my anger would be greater. But I forced myself to believe that what is happening to me, will not keep me chained down. Something or some force inside of me will break me out. And when I’m free, what I will do is what scars me the most.

In all honesty… A monster, like what I’ve become, should be chained down for life…



((might be done with it. Might not. It depends.))

((Kat- That was awesome. The fountain of life was a good way to think of it. It has a lot of potential. But i didn't get the scene of the battlefield, you might want to be more descriptive at that part. But other wise that was really good.

Asami- Even thought you had dialog (which means talking), it was good. I liked the part of gold dagger being held up and then pushed away. Even thought you had more than three characters (another challenge rule broken) the characters were easy to keep track of. The one thing that you might want to do is describe the location of the characters more. ;) ))

((okay! sorry i forgot about that rule. Thank you john!))

((And john yours is good too! You make the character remind me of Percy Jackson, a boy that gets himself into a bunch of acward situations. it was almost funny at some parts. But then i am just egging to see what his monstar state is and who did this to him!))

((Thanks! And yeah, i need to read those books. And were you talking about my character for the last sentence?))

Title: To Save a Life

I watched as the blood seeped out of my skin. I smiled, dragging the blade deeper into my forearm. I didn't mean for it to happen this way, but this is my only true escape. When the screams start to flush my mind, when the hitting gets ten times worse, when even drugs don't fly me into a different world, I come to this. I don't want anyone to see me like this, that's why I'm fully covered most of the time. Who knew the Mayor's daughter would turn out like this. I struggle with grades too, just so it wouldn't be obvious.
Dad knows I do these things too. He knows I'm wearing a mask, that I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. But when you wear a mask too long, you completely forget who's under it. That's why dad hits me. He keeps me isolated so no one would see him hit me. He has problems too, though he lets it out on me. I haven't seen mom in a while, either. I wish I could be like her, to just be gone with the wind and never come back.
As the blood drips down on my jeans, I laugh, pinching my skin hard so that the blood would drain down my arm. I wanted so badly to just taste my own blood, just to see if I'd like it. I loved this feeling. The feeling of pain. I'm already so use to it. I mean, I've been feeling it all my life.
These scars all have different stories. The pain will remain there as a mark that once was horrible. They'll never go away, nor will I forget. It's tattooed into my skin, but no amount of ink will ever give a complete summary from beginning to end.
I don't want help. I'm fine the way I am. I've never told anyone about my secret, mainly because they won't help. My world is filled with big time assholes. They won't look at me the same again.
I look at the dagger in my hands intently, squinting at the glint of light that blinds me momentarily.

Suicide... That word grows hot against my head. How easy it would be to just end my life now and never come back to this hell hole. Should I? Should I leave this world with a golden heart and never return? I'm tired of being my dad's punching bag.
I clutch the blade furiously into my hands. I didn't even notice the blood that soon consumed my hand. The angry inside of me was no match for my inner being. This monster caged inside wants out. If only I had the guts to let it be freed. It craves so desperately for blood.
The mask I've been wearing for so long, is slowly beginning to crack to show a monster, and I am slowly beginning to believe what I really am.
I am a monster.

((Marissa... that was so beautiful. I wanted to cry. You took a topic that i didn't want to read (cutting) and turned it into something amazing. But did you read mine? Because we ended the same way. That's really cool. And you get a bonus point in there for using the word "ink". That was a very good look on it. Your a great writer at a young age.))

((Oh wow, John! Thank you...so much! Our stories do have a little similarity in them. I didn't read it just until now. Haha! We did kinda end the same way! How cool! :D Great writer? Please! After what I just read, I was slowly blown away. You must look into being an author. That's my dream when I grow up. :P John, you are amazing. The way you write makes me jealous>.< Great job.^.*))

((It was good Marissa! SO GOOD! You should write more! Much more! And John you too! And yeah the last sentance was about that, but oh gosh you guys are good!))

John wrote: "((Kat- That was awesome. The fountain of life was a good way to think of it. It has a lot of potential. But i didn't get the scene of the battlefield, you might want to be more descriptive at that ..."

Can you elaborate? Like was it my word choice? Or...?

Title: Silver eyes


My blood is gold. I stare at it as it trickles down my arm. My blood is gold. "What?" I can tell from the look on Michelles face that's what she's thinking. "What the heck?" I think. I looked as dumbfounded as her, i can read her thogughts. What the heck?!" I think again. Shell always recovered quickly. She looks at my arm, and mumbled something. I don't even ask what. I rip off apart of my long t shirt and cover up my arm. We have other problems to deal with. Like the fact that coming at us is a crazed warlock that has been trying to kill us for years, as he said.

Maybe i should start from the beginning,

TBC.

No dialouge.

((ahh! oh!))

Kat- The battle field. Was it grassy? Was it a dessert? Where are they? But the fountain of blood and her diving in made me in awe of AWESOMENESS!!

Asami- Thanks! And yeah, part of the challenge is no dialog. But gold blood? OMG!

Marissa- Thanks, and actually. I want to become an author. I have 45 book ideas at the moment (technically i have close to around 60 ideas) and i expect to have 49 so it can be a square. I refuse to post my ideas online. But they are all different, and there are NO SEQUELS! I really want to publish one day. And thanks to Nano, i might get that publication soon.

Yes Yes go John go! Make sure they get translated for me, lol!

Oooh, now it makes sense. Kay.

And *smirks* did I ever say what gender it is? :)

((wow John. I'm only 14 and I want to be an author too. I have NO ideas whats so ever on what I Want to write about. :P but you'll be a shoe in for sure, trust me.))

((what is a shoe in?))

((American term, uhh. Like he'll have a good chance, or be in the running too))

((oh! of course he will!))

((Thanks Marrissa. So do you. And i always write down my ideas, i hate forgetting things. And when ever i think of something to add, i assign it to the book that would make it fit the best. You ALWAYS right down what you think of, no matter what.


Kat- What is a boy or a girl?? I just assumed girl))

((good idea!))

((John-
You will never know O.o haha))

thanks, and lol i guess i won't. I'll remember that for your next question.))

A/N: Before I begin, I just want to say that it should be 'three characters or under'
...
^-^' sorry. Force of habit.
I'm just gonna shut up now and write....

~

And so I run.

I run. And run. And run. In the vast chamber of my mind. But you can't run forever. And it'll always find you. Unless you're one of those happy-go-lucky people who always seem too fanciful to me.

Then comes the day where it catches up to you, because you're too tired from running and from not eating and from stress.

Him.
Her.
You.
What ever you want to call it.

I refer to it as Him.

That empty, dead, dull, etc. feeling that's lagging behind you. Always. He's haunting and waiting and He's never going to stop.

He's haunted me for eight years.

Then comes the time where you take a knife or whatever and you draw blood from your arm or wrist or leg or hip or other body part.

Then you write with that crimson beads of blood hard reminders of who you really are.

Mine are still soft.

They're reminding you how useless and pathetic you are. How messed up you are. And they'll be there forever.

Mine fade away.

It starts out completely red. Bright, bright red. Then it dissolves away to a dark crimson, then scabs over or scars over.

Either way, it still bleeds tiny droplets of dark crimson blood.

I've scratched so deep, I've nearly bled.

He tells you it's okay to cut. He coaxes you into it, with the ugly truths. He speaks no lies. He bluntly says the truth in the most horrible of ways.

But it's still better than sugary lies.

When you see the scars on your arms and the blood on the floor, you want to blame Him, you try to blame Him, but He reminds you that it was you who caused your pain.

You who caused yourself to bleed.

You who made him a part of your life.

oh my...

I didn't get what you were writing until the last five lines. It, made.... it was very good. but it was very sad. (and it was true)