Tag: fantasy

The more I write the more the ideas keep flowing.



I finished Eriden Grainger’s little yarn about how she has fared since the events of ‘The Town of the Mountain’ took place. I mentioned last time that she had a lot of worries on her plate. She still does by the end of the story but she now has a clearer idea of what value she may have to Manchester and its demon problem.

As she arrives in Manchester she is welcomed by a policeman who is flanked by five more policeman. Is this some kind of welcome wagon you may ask? Not really. The policeman is not so subtly letting Eriden know that he is scared of her. She finds out that none of the police on show, and probably most of the ones that aren’t, believe in the hunters or value them in anyway. Despite Markus’s already titanic efforts to reduce the demon population. Once she finds this out, she knows that she can’t wait to get to work and prove them wrong. She watches a local news report and see’s Markus being interviewed after his heroics which have been charted in his own short story. He then pays her a visit and fills her in a little bit more. I have always liked linking stories together using only one or two lines or just a small paragraph. Anytime this happens in a film or in a book I get excited. I just don’t want to do it too often though. It is helping me move these stories along so I’ll keeping doing it for now but I’ll stop soon. Honest.

And a related note, at the rate I’m going with planning the second book I’m asking myself, should I start writing it soon? No, I shall not. I’ll need to do plenty of planning and note writing before I do that. I might do it for NaNoWriMo this year. Hmm…..I’ve just paused for a few minutes while writing this to contemplate something I’m going to do in November. I always disliked people who relentlessly wish their lives away. Maybe my impending 31st birthday is making me think like a grown up or summat. I dunno. Whatever.

Other than the above, I’ve had a quiet week. I applied for a new job. I went out for drinks for a friend’s birthday, chilled on Saturday and won £14 betting on the Champions League final (cheers Mr Ramos), visited a food festival before more drinks and watched the latest X-Men movie. Come to think of it, maybe my week hasn’t been that quiet.

I’m going now.

Bye Bye


Another draft of a short story of mine.


This is another draft of my take on the vampire myth entitled ‘The End Solution’. I have posted one draft before in a previous post if you feel like comparing them.

Feedback would be awesome. Thank You

End Solution.

This attention following my unwanted rise to fame is running me ragged. They keep coming thick and fast even though they swear they mean me no harm. How can riot police scream such a phrase? I’m sure they can’t find me in here. I need to take my mind off this so I can relax and try to recover. I’ll do my usual trick. But I think I’ll commit my rebirth to this note book I took from them. I’m not about to let them get away with anything. Once I get things sorted, they’ll be sorry they ever tried to stop me.

Work was what it was; Nice but a bore. I could do everything on my team without really thinking about it which is standard when working in administration for over a year. The internet became half of my working day as a result. I was always just biding my time in that place. There’s only so many times you can be told something will come around so keep up the good work before slowly beginning to lose your will to live. Though thankfully my friends help me stay alive.

“Hey, Avenly. Get some work done! I don’t pay you to look at the news.’ Peter said this usually once or twice a day when ever one of the higher ups walked passed. He would then come over and read the news with me closely followed by Amanda and Mark. We were close friends and had had many a good night out together. I tried to go and see them but no matter how much control I think I have, it still isn’t enough. I watched them have a drink a few weeks ago before Amanda turned round and clocked me. I managed to run away before she came out to find me.

What the government has done to me fills me with a mixture of anger and hope. Anger that they would do such things to normal people just because they were different and feel they have the right to and hope because I can use what they did to me to put the country right. I realise the power I have but all I need is a complete plan. I can smell the ones that need to be killed but do I go at it randomly or in some kind of order?

The day I was created always goes through my head along with those bloody news reports. They established long ago that each person who committed a fatal act had a chemical in their blood that facilitated such an act. The tests they ran on the volunteers, who turned out to be criminals that were forced into it for their freedom, conclusively showed that this chemical could be removed and they could re-enter society without any threat to anyone. The volunteers were never freed at all. My visit to the government building to read and take some documentation on the subject some five days ago, which has increased the number of police after me,  showed me that some of them were found to act ‘in an undignified manner’ and were exterminated because of it. The documents show exactly what they did to my creator and the two hundred thousand. I won’t let them get away with this.

From my desk I could see the building where those tests had been conducted and are still probably being conducted now. The question I always had was how would they locate and extract the chemical. I thought I’d be happy knowing the answer, but now that I do and I am the answer, happiness is far from how I feel.

I left work that day and went passed the building to go home. It’s an ominous thing to look at with its Lord of the Rings style two towers that seemed to glare down on people. Every so often the light would catch it and it almost looked like the towers had eyes. I continued until I saw the crowd outside its main entrance as usual. They were always there trying to get information or complaining about the tests they were doing even though till that point it had clearly made the country a better place. I can see their side of things now.

I glanced up at the windows of the smaller office building that joined the two towers together and saw my creator running wildly through the corridor. I was frozen in shock. I can’t believe that that was all I could do. How small of a man was I until this all happened? I can’t imagine acting like that now.

He blasted through the main doors of the building with a wild and confused look in his eyes. Hair everywhere and whatever wasn’t covered by hair was covered by blood. People were screaming and running but I just couldn’t bloody move. I wondered why he was in such a state which gave him enough time to reach me. I tried to move but his grip was too much. His eyes seemed to say that he’d chosen me as he jumped and easily knocked me to the ground. When I tried to get him off me with my meagre strength he looked me in the eye and I couldn’t and still can’t really believe it. Was that happiness in his eyes? Like he was happy to attack me? I know now that he was. Still in shock I allowed him to bite me and though it lasted only a minute I felt its effects immediately.

It felt like he was sucking and blowing on my neck. Taking blood out and putting it back in again to mix it with mine was what it was. When he jumped off me I could feel it course through my body immediately and I had the overwhelming feeling that I was constantly drinking my favourite drink but as I drank my thirst increased. It was as glorious as it was painful. I miss that feeling and the few I’ve fed on so far haven’t come close. I fell to the ground and as I got back up, the feeling changed. A distinct odour filled my nose and made my fingers tingle. It was the same feeling I got whenever I caught the smell of my favourite cake being made or meal being cooked. As people ran past, still screaming and frightened, they all gave off the same odour. I leant against a nearby pole and just took the smell in. It was like nothing I’d ever smelt before. It was the chemical coursing through their veins.

I received a text message from Amanda which said something like ‘Hey Bruce RU ok? I can see people running around. If UR ok, we’re going for a drink in the usual place xx’. I genuinely thought to myself, Why not? I could have one drink and smell my friends. That has to go down as the best and worst thought I’ve ever had. As I casually strolled back through the crowd towards them standing outside work I noticed a few people directing horrified looks at my neck. As far as I could tell the blood flow had stopped but my neck and shoulder were covered along with most of the right side of my shirt. I suddenly felt weak at the knees and then it happened.

Everyone around me became irresistible and I had to suck the chemical out of all of them. I started to run but my knees wouldn’t let me. As I slowly got towards my friends they all smelt the same. The smell became more intense as I got my knees back and ran past them. The worried looks they gave me still haunt my dreams and I think Amanda shouted after me but I’ll never know.

Reports came to light later on, which differ from what I stole surprisingly, said that not everyone that had the chemical extracted had committed a Fatal Act. Two hundred thousand separate cases of people wrongly accused of fatal acts that had had the chemical extracted became completely different people. This quickly fuelled the countries news. But the country showed how fickle it could be when it forgot about the two hundred thousand after the discovery of my existence when the man who had bitten me, a ‘volunteer ‘and my creator was found. He eventually killed himself but only after revealing my full name and who I worked for. I always got teased about forgetting to remove my work badge when I left the building, maybe I should’ve listened.

I now know that I can accurately tell who will and who won’t commit a fatal act. I’m the ‘End Solution’. My creator was a prototype and the ‘End Solution’ can determine who’ll commit a fatal act and deal with it accordingly. They are completely unbiased as the chemical has never ‘Soiled their blood stream’. I’ve never had the chemical in my system so I’d never commit a fatal act which is why he chose me. He was the last experiment to go wrong and when he bit me I became the first one to go right.

They want me to return so badly and will do anything they can to help. I know that if I do return, they will apparently make me a ‘national hero’. All I can see in being a ‘national hero’ is being experimented on no matter how they sugar coat it. I’m not turning out like my creator or the two hundred thousand and why should I? With the power I have, I could rule the world.

I’ve been roaming around now for the past three months. I fed on a few people who had strong chemical smells coming from them and who turned out to be career criminals. I can walk near people, who all smell divine, and not attack them but I can only do this for six hours or so before wanting to drink them all. The only time I’ll be able to return is when I’m in complete control. Whatever they did to my creator has consequently made me gain muscle and my senses are much sharper. Thinking of which, I can smell them again. How did they find me? ‘

The Story I’m Editing now ‘The Town of the Mountain’


These are the first 729 (exactly) words of the first chapter of a story I started after starting another story that got bigger and bigger due to the amount of ideas I was having. I wanted to write a short story or novella just so I had a full one I could add to and mess around with. Forgive any grammatical errors but please tell me about them. If that makes sense.

Your comments are welcome.

The roar made him spin round in anticipation. It was as sickening as he was used to, but like most that have come before, the bugbear responsible didn’t appear.

There’s not much you can say about him, but the one thing most say is that he’s aware. He won’t let much get past him. He is Markus ‘Trident’ Groningen. The things he’s done whilst being so aware were and are to this day greatly appreciated by the townsfolk. This small town is located at the foot of a huge mountain that reaches beyond the clouds and the top of which has never been seen.

‘Trident’, which was the town’s and his fellow hunters nickname for him, was so called because he hunts with a wooden handled Trident with three extremely lethal prongs at its end. The considerable weight this creates doesn’t stop him from handling it with same ease as the wind would handle a stray leaf. He is six foot two inches tall and there isn’t an ounce of fat to be found on him. He along with each of the other hunters has a weapon of choice to the bugbears that ranged from gigantic in size to at their smallest man sized. None of the hunters was recognised officially as the leader but ‘Trident’ was treated as such within the five.

The hunters had only a few things in common, these included wearing the same smart shirts and cotton twill pants along with any footwear of their choosing. Eriden Grainger, who has the distinction of being the only woman hunter to date, stood at five foot eleven inch with a considerable amount of muscle herself. Though this muscle had been toned over the years so she kept her womanly figure and never strayed into the ‘manly woman’ category. I’m sure you know one of these and there not the best to look at.  She carried two pistols which matched that of any gunslinger to have ever graced the Wild West. Although I doubt many of them wore a corset. They all covered up with the standard long dark brown coat which was closer to black but patches of the coats still remained there natural color. The shirt, pants and long coat combination was standard for a hunter and it always allowed them to keep their weapons concealed from the bugbears. The bugbears knew the hunters by their clothes more so than there facial features and in some instances a bugbear has been lured by a coat being put around something that resembled a hunter from the back and lured into a trap by the coats owner.

As we join ‘Trident’ we find him doing his daily rounds. Each hunter is required to walk the distance of the forest in search of bugbears each day alternately. Bugbears came out at night which was when all the hunters were scheduled to patrol the forest in shifts. Two would go on patrol for the night and then the next night another two would patrol. The remaining hunter would hunt with the Sheriff of the town the next night then they would switch partners the next night and so on.

‘Come back in Trident. Seven times is enough for any man.  Even one as tireless as yourself.’ Stuart shouted from the edge of the forest. Stuart Pinder-Marsh carried a fencing sword at one side of his six foot muscular frame and the other side was accompanied by a great sword who’s blade stretched four and half feet and was three inches wide. It was the sharpest sword in the town and has been called a contender for sharpest in the country by some travelling blacksmiths and sword experts. His muscles are his pride and have enabled him to handle his great sword with ease just like Markus can handle his Trident. He now held the less taxing two jugs of water for him and for the now tried Markus. Marcus had reached the edge of the forest but was looking back one final time. After a few more minutes of cautious glances towards the darker parts of the forest, he turned and walked towards him. Stuart in turn held up the full jug of water which was swiped from his hand quickly.

‘Polite as usual.’ Stuart muttered.

‘I heard that.’ Replied Markus as he took a large gulp of his jug.