Shadows (NaNoWriMo Practice 1)

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During the month of October I will be putting myself through writing exercises that I shall coin with the name freewriting.  I am doing these exercises to try and get my mind to just write without worry or concern as I psych myself up for this years National Novel Writers Month event.  Then I will post my writing on here for you to check out.  Enjoy!


He felt the aberration watching him.  It was hiding in his shadows.  The very shadows that he guarded and was meant to keep safe.  Damn the bastard that let the thing loose.  How many souls had it consumed while it was hiding there?  He shook his head.  It didn’t matter whether it was one or a hundred.  He would finish it.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  He focused on his connection with the shadows and willed his own shadow to reach out to the murky pool the beast hid in.  He visualized the shaded hands reaching across the well lit alley and grabbing hold of the shadow pit.

What happened next never got old.  He felt his shadow seize it and a terrible shriek rent the air, chilling blood and sense.  He pulled and a ripping noise added it’s own terrible tone to the cacophony.  The monster that was pulled from the shadows was even darker than his hiding place and it the energy of the consumed souls dripped from its jagged mouth and claws.

Once he had it out, the shriek subsided and the monster seemed to grin wickedly at him.  Then it lunged.

“Nice try,” he whispered, “but these are my shadows now.

He focused his mind and body, fell back into his own shadows and reappeared behind the beast.  He leaped forward drawing a dagger from the sheath on his back and grabbed the beast from behind.

“Rest well in whatever hell you came from, beast.”

His voice was as cold and merciless as the blade the tore open the beasts throat.  Once again it shrieked in the night, but this time it was pitiful and seemed to cry for help.  Then its blackened form vanished like smoke on the wind.

He sighed, as he sheathed his blade, and turned to walk away.  But the night exploded with what sounded like a hundred shrieks each as vicious and savage as the beasts.  And one thought came into his mind.

Shit.

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Blood Lust

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Here is a small story I did for the the HitRecord.org website.  It didn’t really get any attention on there, but hey maybe you guys will like it!  Along with that, feel free to check out my other tiny/short stories and collaborations over at their site.  My name is LastWord there!

Cheers!

“Again!” she cried.

He glanced at her flushed face. The scarlet hue of her cheeks made her green, lust filled eyes pop at him.  She was really enjoying this.  He turned back to the “man” sitting in front of him.  Her husband was already beaten to a bloody pulp, but still she wanted more.

He almost felt bad for the poor sap.  But then all of her black eyes and bruised cheeks came to the forefront of his memories, the most recent was a set of broken ribs she had been given after the bastard had drunkenly attacked her.  He looked down at his bloody and busted knuckles.

The man deserves this he thought, and his rage rose up once more and turned his normally gentle hands into instruments of pain.

He stalked in on the man, his hands and legs tied to the wooden chair he was propped up in.  As each blow connected with the man’s face and torso, they slammed with a meaty thump, but their noise was nothing to compare with the sounds of ecstasy the woman began crying out behind him.  Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as she ran her hands over breasts and the smell of her arousal splashed in some lust with his anger.  His attack would continue for a long time, until neither she nor her husband could take anymore.