For Felix - The Gauntlet Is Down.

Okay, so as mentioned yesterday, myself and my friend Felix challenged each other to write something based on just three words. Mine were disaster, yellow and competition, so without further ado, let's get on with it!


The town lay in ruins; charred rubble and bloody, smouldering corpses lay scattered and staggered across the ground. Smoke still clung to the air like a scared child to its sheets whilst hiding from the monsters in the wardrobe. That was a bad analogy, Gospel pondered to himself as he observed the scene of destruction and chaos before him. The further he got to the point zero of the blast the brittler the ground became as he found he was no longer walking on ash and debris, but on glass from the intensity of the explosion. He frowned and removed his wide brimmed hat, placing it to his chest in a sign of respect to the dead of what until two days ago had been a vibrant mining town. Gospel looked to the setting sun as it lowered, lingering behind the hills as if it felt guilty to even shed its light upon the town. He sighed as he set his hat back atop his head and sat upon a rubble pile, opened his bible and began to read and pray, "Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you." He paused and looked around once more to the wreckage around him, "Well, I know You've got my back, just like You had Deuteronomy's... But I wish this could've been avoided..." He stood and holstered his bible next to his modified .44 Magnums and crouched to pick up the tattered remnants of a child's ragdoll; what little hair it had left caught the falling sun and taunting him that there used to be life here until so very recently. Casting the doll aside, Gospel stood and checked his guns over as a breeze caught the tails of his duster coat, "Demons... I am so sick of it being demons."

The year was 2034 and the world had changed a great deal over the past two decades. The doomsday predictions for 2012 were naturally wrong, like most doomsday predictions, and were believed only by drooling, raving madmen. The true beginning of the end came about on June 13th 2014. Yes, the world as formerly was ended on a friday the 13th, a fact that modern historians find ironic and amusing, referring to it as Fate's Day. It was upon that day when demons gained more power upon the earth, becoming able to manifest physical forms of their own. No mortal knows the reason why, but since that day - Fate's Day - the forces of hell seemed to be taking a firmer grasp over the planet. Since that day, the world began to spiral further into the realms of anarchy and chaos, wars were fought, nuclear weapons were launched, nations were completely erased save for minute bands of survivors and those few devout warriors who remain upon this earth took it upon themselves to defend what was left of this crumbling earth in the name of the Lord God. They took the title "Light Bearers", and so began the competition to win back the earth. Gospel is one such Bearer. This is his story...

***

Yellow. He distinctly remembered the colour yellow. Daniel sat up on the hillside; it was one of the few places of solace he knew of in this area, what was formerly Calgary. He looked around at the buttercups that still defiantly poked up through the rough patches of grass that remained on the otherwise desolate ground. He stood and grabbed his gun belt from the dirt, replacing it around his waist and setting his hat atop his head. He'd walked a good ten miles from the town where the demon forces had set off their infernal energy device and levelled everything within the town radius and still he'd found no sign of any demonic remnants in the area. He knew that today was going to be a long day, but most were when the majority of one's time was spent hunting the infernal forces of hell. He smirked, possibly the first genuine sign of positivity he'd allowed himself for weeks, and continued along the path he prayed to be guided along.

So that's all I'm giving you for now. I even stole one of Felix's words, Wardobe, sorry... And yeah, I quite like this, though it's a bit rough and stodgy, I might see what I can do with it. Hope you like it!

Peace out, God bless, and goodnight,

Craiggy.

A quick one before bed.

Okay guys, sorry it's been so long since my last post. I wish I could say I've been busy, but quite frankly, I've not been busy enough to warrant my lack of posting, I've just been forgetting about the blog. A travesty, I know! Now, I know I promised more Manmade Man, but I had an idea playing around my mind that I wanted to try, so I had to get that written down before it left me and what you're about to read is the result. It's only an intro so far, but it does tie in with a previous blog entry. Remember my second ever blog? The one with a guy called Jared hunting a paranormal beastie? Well, I decided to do a prequel, an origins story if you will, and this is what I have so far:

Chris Longley posted a status on his Face Space page three weeks ago saying how he felt his life was pointless.

Three people ‘liked’ it. Nobody left a comment.

Two weeks and five days ago, Chris Longley took his own life by overdosing on his grandfather’s heart medication.

Subsequently, Chris’s grandfather died two weeks and three days ago due to a shortage in his prescription.

Exactly two weeks ago, Chris’s best friend Greg was hit by a car and died in emergency room; witnesses claim that Greg’s body convulsed and jerked moments before moving into the road, as if pushed by some unseen force.

Within the near three weeks since Chris Longley’s death and excluding the death of his grandfather, there have been reports of four deaths of people associated with Chris, beginning with Greg and all with reports of unusual circumstances.

***

Jared knew Chris. He wouldn’t say they were close, not by any stretch of the imagination, but with all of the rumours spreading around their college about how people with even the slightest of associations were being targeted – this being after the last death, a one Collette Martin who sat next to Chris in a Physics module – Jared had every right to have at least a slight interest in the situation, if not genuine concern if not for the fact that he wasn’t usually the concerned type, at least not usually for his own wellbeing. He was an others first sort of guy, and one plagued with an overactive sense of curiosity. This combined with the lure of a real life and local ghost story that he was potentially a part of was all the work on the hook that Jared needed.

Now, that's all you're getting, but expect another post tomorrow, because myself and my fellow writing chum Felix have set ourselves a challenge. She wants to write more, so I gave her three words with which she must form at least the opening to a short story and to make it fair, she did the same for me. My words are: Disaster, competition & yellow, so if you want to see what I can do with them, well you'll just have to come back tomorrow won't you?

God bless and goodnight,

Craiggy.