Sunday, 1 April 2012
Can I share something with you?
I have a little... Okay, not little, its 25 pages long and not finished yet, story that I need people to see in order to find out if it's good or not, I might make another page so that I can post it there, or I might do a chapter every so often on here... Is that a good idea? ~_~
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Going Under – Chloe Lamorna Eddy - (Yes, thats me, you would have found that out if you looked at the followers, it's my twitter account..)
PROLOUGE
“If he wants me alive,” said Syris Colt, “Then he will have to travel back in time”.
Syris Colt was a twenty-two year old man with jet-black hair that hung fixed over his right eye. His eyes, the most mysterious feature of Syris Colt that were hardly ever seen, were black too. But his eyes were darker than his hair – and his hair was the most black-coloured hair that you would ever see. His skin would always be pale, and he would almost always wear some sort of a leather jacket.
“You wouldn’t…” A dark, hooded figure whispered from the shadows.
“I never told you to speak!” Shouted Syris, the anger and hate burning in his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have to ask permission to.” It whispered again.
Syris grabbed a knife from the side of the cave and held it against the hooded figure’s throat.
“You do what I tell you to.” He said in one of the most threatening ways you would ever hear.
“I shouldn’t think that I would, nor that I should.” It replied.
“Are you sure about that? I don’t think that you should take a gamble while I still have a knife held against your throat.”
“Rather sure, You’re too much of a mouse to do that to me.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t?”
“Because then,” She whispered rather quietly. “Then…”
“Then what?”
As the figure said that, its hands were slowly moving upwards, towards the knife. It gripped it on the end where Syris’s fist wasn’t wrapped around the knife.
She started to move it towards Syris’s throat as if he couldn’t feel a thing.
“Then, I wouldn’t be able to…”
“Do what?!”
The knife pushed towards Syris’s throat with immense speed, and Syris dropped to the floor. Injured, she struggled with his last breath just to say:
“You, you did this to me…” Syris whispered. “You did the thing I had needed someone to do all along.”
The figure gasped, shocked, and ran out of the cave. As it ran out, it was revealed who exactly it was. The breeze from running through the cave and then out into the fresh air that it had not seen for weeks, maybe even months, had blown the hood back and revealed a character with tied back beach-blonde hair and tanned skin.
It was a girl, perhaps of the age of about twenty-one. A year younger than Syris, but had the power to kill someone as powerful as Syris is, or in fact, Syris was. She wore a black tank top and khaki shorts…
This was no normal person.
This was a mass-murderess.
This was Zaphara Romeas.
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That's the first chapter / prolouge, its a mystery thriller that I haven't completed yet, but I wanted to see if you liked it... Thanks? ~_~
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