Sunday, September 23, 2007

Silver Grin

Hi, My dear Friends, This story just popped into my head a couple minutes ago and I thought I'd write it down here. This is the first, rough draft, so it's bound to have some major flaws..but I think the story is a fair one. Here it is..enjoy..

Silver Grin

By: Lucas Pederson

Over purple flecked boulders and scraggly trees, the somber green moon casts it unearthly glow over the land.

A black shape, perhaps it is a man, perhaps something far worse, races through the night of this strange, but alluring place. It races for purposes yet unknown to us, and we must follow this dark shape. Yes. We must follow it, for where ever it may lead us, we must see. We must record, and we must listen. It is our duty as spirits to do so.

Now, let us take flight, for we can fly, we are spirits after all, nothing more than vapor. We can not speak , we can only listen, see and record.

So up we go. Up into that somber green glow, up in the stale filthy air of this odd place. Below we can still see the black man-shape racing through the alien nightscape, we can hear his/her heavy breathing.

We look up ahead, following the thing's progress. We are curious, no? Sure we are. We want to know what this mysterious being is up to, don't we? Of course we do. We must.

Ahead, we see a massive bulk in the darkness. We at first mistake it for a mountain, surely there is no castle or mansion of this size in such an awful, wonderful place. But then we realize that it is a building. Not a castle, not a mansion, but something else. A gigantic work of architecture beyond our imaginations. We stop in mid flight, allowing the black shape to race further ahead of us toward that peculiarly enormous building. We have to look at this dark structure a moment longer, record it for what it is. For what we know it to be in our minds and spirit. A place of emptiness. A building that stands between the borders of worlds. A wall against everything it hates.

What does it hate? We do not know. We have to delve deeper into this mystery to find that out.

Shall we go? Good. Now where did--

Ah ha. Down there, just a little to the right, the black shape. See? It's scrambling up a steep hill side. Its speed is uncanny. And we must marvel at this, for it is something strange and oddities are our business right now. It is why we came here from that other world so far away yet so damn close we can taste it. That human world.

We fly on, eyes fixed on the shape we have come to both wonder about, and fear. We fear it because of its strangeness, its unpredictability of what might happen.

Distant, we hear something roar. It shakes us even this high up in the air. Whatever it is, we can not see. We only see the black shape, as it still races up the hill side for that massive building we all ready know is a very bad place.

For now, we ignore the roar and follow the black shape.

Finally, just as our patience begins to grow thin, the black shape reaches the top of the hill and disappears into the massive dark building.

Quick, like a summer gale, we rush at the building...and soon find ourselves inside.

But once here, we do not wish to stay. The interior of the gargantuan is shifty. It's the only way we know how to describe it. Shifty. Nothing seems to stay in place for long. the tables and chairs, made from something other than wood, appear to waltz the floors and corridors we see like lurid ball room dancers. The air in here is humid and fragrant of cinnamon and age. Dizziness washes over us as we advance further into the horrible place. We don't want to be here, we must leave..and soon. But first we have to find that dark shape. We have to find it and discover its secrets. If we do not, if we fail, we are stranded in this world for all eternity. But, of course, you knew all that, didn't you?

Finding our balance both in body and mind, we glance to our left to see a black phantom wisp through an open archway and into whatever vile room lay beyond.

Mustering our courage, we float swiftly over, suck in a nonexistent breath, and waft into the room.

Open your eyes. Look, see. This is not what we expected. There you go, open those pretty eyes, and gaze upon what is here. Mark it well, record.

We see a hooded figure (all black) kneeling before an empty throne of skulls. But save for the skulls and the black kneeling figure, the room is otherwise pleasant in decor. Soft light showers down from holes int he high ceiling. These holes we know do not bring in light from the outside, but rather pierces into another world, robbing true light to give this sinister place a welcoming glow.

Shsh. Listen, the black shape, yes our black shape, is speaking.

"It drains me every night, oh lord. It rapes my flesh as I lay sleeping. A vampyr! No! Something worse! It hurts me, lord. Please give me the strength to fend it away."

There is no answer, and the throne remains empty.

Okay.. I'll stop here for now. This is something different I'm trying. A new form that seemed perfect for this little story I got here. It's fun to write, actually. I love teh way it shows the reader what's happening. And describing it in the best detail the narrator has in his or her own vocabulary. This is not the end of the story, but rather a stopping point for me to refresh myself and breathe easier for a night or two before jumping back in and finishing it, then getting back to my new novel...the one I hate to discuss at the moment. All I can say is that it's a brand new twist on the vampire element. I will complete this story in a couple days from now. Hope you like this half of it. Later.

Friday, September 14, 2007

First Sentence: Blood, Hell, and High Water

This is graphic, so please read at your own discretion. It's nothing worse than I've written before, nothing like Chop Shop if you remember that one, but, hey, it's me... Here's my contribution:

Blood, Hell, and High Water

By Lucas Pederson

Black, like charred bacon, I saw what no one should ever see.

My eyes scanned over the thing which lay at my feet on the fishing boats' aluminum floor. I watched as it writhed there, the treble hook I had been using in hopes to catch a northern pike or two, caught deep in its black membranous flesh. My gorge rose, and I swallowed it down quickly.

Soft mewling noises wafted up from the pitiful creature squirming on the floor of my boat.

"Godam," Josh, my good friend, whispered directly behind me. He was staring over my shoulder.

I gave him a sharp nudge, not to move him exactly, but so I could distance myself from the thing on my boat floor.

Josh backed up without a word.

The black blubbery mass mewled, its leathery flesh, like a bat wing, pulsed.

"What the fuck is that?" Josh asked.

I could only shake my head.

It wasn't a fish, nor anything else one might find in a lake. No. This was something...different. Something alien and grotesque. Beyond all words and knowledge. Something perhaps even ancient, or maybe even beyond that. Something evil. Yes. That sounded right. Something evil.

A shudder ran through me, and I took another step back. The boat rocked.

"Shit, man, stop," Josh nearly screamed. "We're runnin out of boat!"

I stopped. My eyes never left the creature lying there amongst the empty beer and soda cans, and vacant cigarette packs.

I only knew one thing.

"Give me the net," I said.

Something jabbed the small of my back.

"Here," Josh said.

I turned just enough to grab the fish net and then checked the small black thing.

I froze.

Now, I saw two green eyes glaring up at me from that awful mess of writhing flesh.

Steeling myself, I reached out with the net, meaning to scoop it up and toss it back in the water, praying never to see something like it again. I would cut me line and set it loose. Better that than letting it lay there in my boat, writhing and mewling up at me, glaring at me with those demonic eyes, just letting lay there as I stood staring dumbly down at it all fucking day.

Before my next so much as touched it, however, the creature reared. A soft smucking noise, like that of a suction cup being pulled from a pane of glass, sounded and the thing rolled to the front of the boat, end over end, as if were a ball instead of living thing.

"Jesus," I gasped and I heard Josh pull in a breath of his own.

Then the small black being started to make loud clicking noises.

I glanced back at Josh. He shrugged where he sat next to the boat motor.

And just as I was about to turn back the thing in my boat, something long and silvery slipped out of the water behind Josh, and wrapped itself around his neck.

I whirled, the boat rocked hard to the right, then the left. I steadied my balance and hurried toward my friend. Josh made a choking sound, and then the tentacle, or whatever the fuck it was, constricted, like a python around a rat, its thin coils cinching tighter, tighter.

Josh's eyes balls popped from their sockets and dangled on their pink stalks against his ashy cheeks.

I screamed. Blood burst from Josh's yawning mouth and sprayed in every direction. I screamed louder. Then the silver appendage whipped hard to the right, tearing Josh's head off with it.

More blood spurted in every direction. A warm mist dotted my face. And I screamed.

Behind me something growled deeply.

I whirled, nearly losing my balance and going over board into the murky lake water. I stood gaping at a creature that resembled a mutant crocodile. Its long triangular jaws snapped at me. It two green eyes one tall red stalks rolled to me and away, as if saying, "Aren't we both just having the shittiest day?"

A long black tail whipped and lashed at the boat's sides.

It was the writhing mass I had caught. the thing which had started everything. I knew it was the membranous monster, but I couldn't believe it. This was some change from what it had been.

It rushed at me from the front of the boat. I instinctively shot the net between us, and its snapping jaws clamped down on hard enough to bite it in half.

I let the net go. The evil croc-like thing roared.

A silvery flash to my left and suddenly I felt a hard thud strike my thigh. I instantly collapsed, screaming in agony now, instead of horror. The pain flood over everything. And when I looked I saw blood jetting from a large gash in my thigh. The femoral artery. The thing from the water, not the demonic crocodile, but the other thing. The one that had decapitated Josh.

Before I had a chance to get up again, the black crocodile like monster leaped on to of me. Its jaws, which were lined with what appeared to be millions of tiny sharp fangs, clamped down on my right shoulder. The pain was exquisite.

I felt the boat rock drastically, and the next I knew, I was subm,erged in cold silvery tentacles swirled about me, and the crc-beast continued to gnaw away my shoulder.

My death had been bad. My life before had been bad. I was not a Christian, nor was I a straight arrow in life. Perhaps that's why I'm Hell, writing this.

This little story is for me, okay? For me. Because, Hell is Hell. And between my daily punishments for a life more int he dark than in the light, I get breaks where I get some alone time. My time is almost up now. Then it will be back to the whips and the razors cutting away mys skin, inch by inch, slowly.

I wrote this for me, so I can cope.

Hell isn't what you'd think it is. There's now fire consuming the place, but it's full of putrid water. Water as yellow as urine and stinks just as bad. Hell.

The End

There, finally I got it out. Finally. Let me know what you think of this one. Be honest. Thanks for reading!!

Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Hiddy ho everybody! All my friends that still visit me from time to time.
Well, this first sentence assignment didn't go exactly as planned. So I moved the deadline to the 15th. Hope this helps some of you. I know it will for me because I barely have any time to do anything anymore. This pisses me off. Why won't life just give me a break and let me do what I want to do? Why does it have to be such a stick in the mud? URG!

Ah well, I still write, but it's in quick sips during my breaks and slightly longer sips while at home. These are often interrupted, so I guess they too could be considered quick sips. Thus the reason I have nothing for the assignment. Well, I have something, but it's far from being done. And amongst all this mayhem, I have a novel boiling over on me. I've got this awesome idea for vampires, and I've got the first chapter completed. Now it sits, waiting for me to continue the story. Which I am hoping to do this weekend. But by the way life is now days I probably won't even get a chance to really get going on it again. IT sucks, but I guess I have to deal with it. It's what makes us adaptable, right? we can deal with things, we can move on.

I still miss all the writing I used to do. Perhaps soon I will ahve enough time to really get going again...perhaps.

I really look forward to reading some of your first sentence assignments. Like I said, I hope you give it a shot. Thanks for everything, thanks for letting me rant..


Monday, September 3, 2007

First Sentence Assigment: Extreme

My Friends,

Thanks for all your comments about my decision to stop writing Ice Mountain. As someone in my life had said: "You can't beat a dead horse." Well...I think you can, but it'll get you nowhere. Trust me...I've tried. :-) Just kidding.
Anyhoo. Here's a long time coming first sentence assignment. For those of you who have not seen or heard of this little fun writing exercise, here's how we roll:
I provide a First Sentence...and you take it from there. Write a story that's 2,000 words or less. This time how ever I want all of you to push the envelope, if you dare. Take risks, let go. That simple. Okay, here goes:

"Black, like charred bacon, I saw what no one should ever see."

Hope you can make something of that. I will. The deadline is September 9th. Ah yes, I could have said the 11th, but I'm not that cold hearted. Send me your links or let me know here when you are done or if you'll participating and I'll post you up on the this blog. I really hope all of you can give it a try. It's been a long time...