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Thread: The Writers - Story Submission Thread for Tasks

  1. #1
    Still warlusting... Member Warluster's Avatar
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    Aug 2006
    Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

    Default The Writers - Story Submission Thread for Tasks

    Hi all,

    THis is for the Writers Group 'The Writers'. This is where they will always submit their stories for tasks when told to.

    Task One

    Was a 1000-3000 word limit. It was based upon Mythical Creatures. It was supposed to be a week. I think that week is up, so could all members please submit their stories. Then we shall move on.

  2. #2
    Imperialist Brit Member Orb's Avatar
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    Dec 2004

    Default Re: The Writers - Story Submission Thread for Tasks

    The Rain, A Fire and Two Children

    'Honey, are you alright?' the tall man tenderly looked at his wife. She was lying on the bed, on her back, in pain, expecting, but she was still the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Her long blonde hair fell down over the bedposts, and her piercing green eyes stared back with love and adoration at her well-built husband, and she lay still. She was in pain, but happy, lying with his strong arms on her shoulders, supporting her, caressing her.

    'Honey, I love you. Stay strong. Keep holding on.'
    'I will. I love you.'
    Elli came in and smiled a smile that lit up her face, and even her grey hair seemed youthful when paired with such a genuine smile. 'You called. Are you sure she's about to have the child?'
    'Yes, thank you for coming. We really do need your experience.'
    Her forehead wrinkled as she beamed back at the man. 'My pleasure. Besides, I want to be here when the most beautiful child of the century is born.'
    The man laughed, and the woman on the bed, though faint, smiled as she heard his voice.
    'We're glad to have you here, Elli. It's a bit early to think about that.'
    'Are you kidding? Look at the two of you. The most beautiful couple in the kingdom.'
    'Thanks, Ell. Please, have a seat.'
    He carefully lifted the decorated shield, golden dragon motif and all, off the bench by the blazing log fire and put it down in the far corner of the room. The gray-haired midwife slowly sat down on the bench, and looked across at the bed.

    'Good, regular breathing. I could walk off right now and you'd still be fine. There's nothing even remotely interesting about this,' Nell complained, 'Glass in the windows? You are doing well for yourself!'
    The man grinned, but with a hint of reproach in his eyes, 'The King gave me a sword of solid gold. His reward for slaying that snake. Please could we just...'
    The lady on the bed turned her head to the midwife, 'You know,' she added in a tired voice, 'he traded in that sword for those windows. Says he wants to spend more time with me and the baby. Gave his other sword, all covered in runes, to a young man in the gutter, and sponsored him.'
    'Sponsored?' the midwife was simple, and didn't understand the court term.
    'He provided for the boy, so he could learn how to fight and serve the king.' The man's face reddened and the midwife enthusiastically crowed, 'You've really found yourself a treasure here. He wants to give up his dragons and trolls for a quiet life on a farm.'
    'Pity,' the woman's eyes flashed coyly, 'he used to be so dashing!'
    The man blushed more deeply still. Elli stared in mock reproach in the way that only a seasoned midwife can, 'Now now. Don't embarrass him.'

    'Not even a sweat. Not even a sweat. In thirty years I've never seen the like!'
    'Let's not count...' the man began.
    'I'm fine. I'm fine. Just so long as I have you here, nothing can go wrong.' Interrupted the woman.
    He brushed aside the golden hair from her face and kissed her lightly, before getting up to stare out of a window. 'I don't like it. Rain hitting the roof, I think that's lightning over there.'
    'You killed a dragon and you're afraid of getting wet! Some hero you...'
    The man turned, and his wife stopped. She understood that he didn't even like that being spoken about in jest. She quickly apologised, and he simply walked over to the side of the bed and kissed her again.
    'You know I love you.'
    'I do.' She smiled.
    Elli cut in, 'So, this dragon. Tell me about it.'
    The man shook his head, 'You wouldn't believe me if I did.'
    'The midwife not believing the handsome young man's stories? Never!'
    'Alright. This dragon, Bleak Hennir, had been living in a cave about forty miles north of the great palace of the Geats. I was traveling back here from the court after my service across the ocean. I asked his majesty to permit me to leave and stay here with my wife and he replied, “If I granted every request of that type to such an honourable people as the Geats, I'd be out of an army.”'
    Elli hung onto every word. The blonde-haired lady, though she had heard the story before, was no less enraptured by her husband's voice.
    'I had heard about this beast, and the king asked me not to try, but eventually agreed that I could go home if I dealt with the dragon. And I rode out and the rest is history.'
    Elli stared at him, 'So where's the story?'
    The man turned to his wife, who nodded, still smiling. He picked it up again. I rode up to that beast's cave in a storm like this. God alone spared me from the lightning.'

    Some time later, after he had described his arduous journey to the cave and the several gifts of god and simple men that he had acquired, all during a storm that lasted two weeks, talismans that he had later given to the king, hoping for his health, he was speaking of the cave.
    'The path was lit by lightning, conjured by some sorcery of the dragon. I dismounted and walked up to the cage, and saw the beast sleeping.'
    'What did it look like?' Elli asked, excited.
    'A colossal beast, patterned all over with red, and black and gold scales. It had this off-white fur covering it's back like a cloak, and legs as large as I am.'
    'No. Those are only for stories, he had legs but – wait.'
    'What?' asked his wife.
    'I heard something. I'm sure I heard some...'
    The midwife waved her hand in the air, dismissing it, 'Don't worry. Noone's about at this time.'
    'No. I heard something.' He went to the fireplace and picked up the axe he used to chop wood. It had been leaning against the mantelpiece, not used for a couple of days. He went and slowly unbolted the door and then pushed it open. A chilly wind blew through the house.
    The woman said in a soft voice, 'Please honey, come back here.'
    He took a final look, but there was nothing except the recent snows there. He pulled the door to, and came back to the bedside. 'Sorry honey, sorry Elli. You're right, there's noone about.' He replaced the axe by the fire.
    'I feel...' the woman began, and Elli rushed to the bedside, replacing her quiet admiration of the couple with practical instruction. The man picked up a silver crucifix off a hook in the wall and rushed to the bedside.

    'She's beautiful,' said the midwife. 'Just gorgeous. And not a sound out of you, girl. You must be as brave as your mother.'
    The woman smiled and leaned up and tried to peer into the linen bundle. The man supported her and asked, 'can we see our daughter?'
    And at that moment, the door opened.

    A grey-skinned shadow leapt across the room, springing to the fire side and singing its feet on the fire. Another, closer, stepped through the door, ducking under the table. The man sprang into action, lifting the table and hurling it towards the open doorway. Another of these half-men, like a dwarf, but with coal-coloured skin and ghastly, colourless eyes, was caught by the table, and fell to the floor. This one was bald, but the others had wisps of charcoal hair falling down their entire deformed naked bodies. Goblins. The man lunged at the one who had hidden under the table, but it was too fast. Far too fast, it spun to the side and clung to his leg, tearing in vain with pointed teeth. Countless others were pouring through the door, and Elli had picked up a knife, handing the baby to the woman. Fangs and steel and flesh tore at each other for a while, and the man was covered in the grey-skinned beasts.
    After a while, the mound of flesh subsided, and the man crushed another goblin against the wall. A dozen lay dead around his feet, and several more lay scattered in front of him. A goblin of human stature, covered by long, velvet-like red hair, wearing a mocking crown of hardened brambles, fled through the door, slamming it loudly behind him. The man turned back to the room. Elli lay upon the floor, stretched out, with a line of red teethmarks around her throat. Three of the goblins lay next to her. All were dead. His golden-haired wife sat quivering by the bedside with a bundle of linen in her arms.
    'Elli? Is she well?'
    'No. I'm sorry. It's my...'
    'Don't blame yourself.'
    'Is the child?'
    And as he spoke, a sharp hiss came from the bundle of blankets. He unwrapped the linen and gazed at its occupant. Two eerie colourless eyes gazed back.

    'My intelligence is not just insulted, it's looking for revenge with a gun and no mercy. ' - Frogbeastegg


    The life of tomorrow is too late - live today!

  3. #3
    One of the Undutchables Member The Stranger's Avatar
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    Dec 2004

    Default Re: The Writers - Story Submission Thread for Tasks

    some may have read this story already, but I'd still like to hear some reply.

    The riddle of Doga-Kavuue
    By The Stranger

    Thunder broke the brittle silence over the landscape. Rain descended on the earth, which could finally, after a long period of intense drought, appease its immense thirst. It is funny actually, a thing as small as a drop of water… and yet if there are enough of them, they can flood a field, cleanse a mire and choke a forest.

    In the forest of Doga-Kavuue – which miraculously survived the scorching drought that swept through Himakadur for the past few months without a scratch – nothing was, as it seemed. Nearby villagers told tales of Black Magic and witchcraft. It was a place so dark and evil, so filled with negative energy, you even had to be careful to let your mind wander, because it might not come back. But nothing scared them more than the power, which was said to lurk in the shadows of the trees in the centre of Doga-Kavuue. Some say it was a mythical beast that survived from ancient times and others talk of demons and the devil himself. But nobody knew the truth, because no villager really dared to come close, afraid they would be grabbed by the unknown and swallowed in to the darkness. Never to hear the beautiful sound of a lioness at sunrise, never to taste sweets the earth produced, never to come back.

    And in this vicious and treacherous world one traveller faced the odds. What he was looking for? Adventure perhaps… or maybe he was just searching. Nobody knew. His search had lead him beyond the mountain peeks of Ta-Tarum, over the mighty river Toruck and finally into the treacherous shadows of the age-old trees of Doga-Kavuue.

    His, was a journey full of dangers and verged a lot of devotion but unlike many other people who risked their lives on such trips, on the end of his journey lured no gold or other riches. His was a journey without an end, without destination. He lived his life from dawn till dusk, uncertain of what tomorrow would bring. He lived life as it was supposed to be lived, wild and unruly, as the untouched nature he lived in.

    For a while already had he been looking for a place to catch his breath, where he could shelter for the rain and come to himself for spare seconds, his heaven on earth. He cursed the rain that had soaked through his clothes; making them so heavy he could barely walk. His line of sight had diminished to the point where he could see no further but an arm length.

    I have to find shelter… and fast. I don’t think I can hold out much longer. Cursed rain, cursed forest, cursed gods.

    It was if heaven read his mind and decided to punish him for it, as if the freezing cold that sent a chill down his spine every 5 seconds and the ongoing down pouring rain that struck with the force of small rocks weren’t enough punishment, a storm arose. The cold and raw winter wind blew through his soggy clothes. His hands and feet were benumbed and his face was meagre.

    While every other sane person would have given up and fallen on the ground to let it all happen because resistance seemed futile, he pushed on.
    ‘Faster, I have… faster,’ he mumbled.
    But his words were taken by the wind; to places no man has ever set foot on, so fast it left him with the uncomfortable doubt if he had ever spoken those words out loud.

    Still denying the fact that he ran out of energy, denying the fact that he could see no more and that his cramped legs refused to work properly, he tried to walk faster.

    It does not matter how, I just ha…

    A fierce twinge of pain, a fall into dazzling depths, and then? Then nothing. The forest had taken its toll on this courageous man. He was the umpteenth victim of Doga-Kavuue.

    Slowly the traveller opened his eyes. Pain raged through his head, beating like the drums of his village when the fishermen came home. Next to him an old lady was knitting. She was dressed in rags and her face was covered in the dark shadows of her kerchief. Though her appearance was mysterious she seemed very familiar, as if he had met her before…

    Could it be… no that can’t be…

    In the meanwhile the old lady had noticed her quest was awake and she stopped knitting.
    ‘Where am…’ the traveller tried to say, but he was to weak to talk and his effort ended in a sigh. Exhausted, he coughed up some slime. Though he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open he tried once again – with the spirit he had also shown if the woods – to talk. But the lady placed her surprisingly soft fingers on his lips and almost whispering she said: ‘Go to sleep, young man. You will need all your energy for the dangers that lie ahead.’ And although her voice was soft and calm it had a very decisive undertone. It sounded as a request but felt like an order. The traveller decided to obey this mysterious woman and within minutes after he had closed his eyes, he slept.

    The traveller dreamed that he opened his eyes.

    Where am I, what happened?

    Then he noticed that there was something weird about this place. The trees seemed to grow horizontal and the horizon had disappeared. Though the place was very odd, it felt painfully familiar.

    Haven’t I been here before? No… wait a minute…

    He tried to get up, he needed a lot of strength but he succeeded. Little by little some things came back to him. The world that had seemed odd at first changed back to normal. The trees grew once more to the sun and although he couldn’t see the horizon due the trees blocking his view, he knew it was there. And now he also knew where he was, the forest of Doga-Kavuue. But he still had no clue of what happened.

    Oh, yeah… or maybe…no that is not it…

    He didn’t know it anymore. All he remembered was a twinge of pain and everything before and after that was a giant black blur, that annoyed him as much as a big stain of ink on his best parchment annoyed a writer.

    Something came back to him as if it was whispered in his ears by the divine powers themselves.

    Didn’t I have a dream… about an old lady in her cottage… or am I dreaming right now… I went to sleep, didn’t I?

    Confused and exhausted he dropped himself on the grass that was still wet with early morning dew. It wasn’t until then that he noticed the pain in his stiff limbs. Tortured by the course of events he laid down on the forest floor, worrying about all sorts of things. Slowly he slipped into unconsciousness of the world, a sort of coma, he lost grip on time and reality. How long had he been lying there? Ten minutes, maybe twenty, or a few hours…

    When the sun started to set, he decided to travel on, and above all he was thirsty. He stood up to grab his knapsack. But it was nowhere to be found… Suspicious he looked around as if he would see the thief lurk in the shadows of the trees and bushes.

    Something is going on here… but what? What was that?

    He turned his head in the direction he had heard a sound coming from. He pricked up his ears and listened. His heart stopped and he skipped a breath. It was as if his entire body was focusing on that one point, it was as if he had waited his entire life for this moment. And then he heard it. It was very vague at first but it gradually became louder, more closer, until he could recognize the sound for what it was.


    Distant voices, but voices nonetheless.

    But from who are they? I haven’t seen a living being for miles…

    And as he though that, he realised how odd that sounded. He had not encountered one single animal since he passed the first trees of Doga-Kavuue.

    What is this for place…

    There was a crack of branches and a rustle of leaves. Rapidly the traveller’s eyes flashed into all directions.

    Who was that… what was that…

    He started to panic… but for what? He was afraid but what was he afraid of. Wild animals? There were none. And that was the fact that disturbed him the most. If it was no harmless deer or another harmless animal… than what was it? Which dark and evil being dared to spy on him, what stole his knapsack? And why? Was it hungry… did it long for more?

    Now the voices were so loud he could clearly hear what they were saying.

    My name…

    The voices were screaming and shouting, shrieking and moaning his name as a terrifying and mysterious choir. Louder and louder, until it was so loud it echoed through the trees and seemed to come from all directions at once.

    I will stay here no minute longer… this place is haunted.

    He started to run as fast as he could, he ran like he never ran before, he ran like the devil himself was after him… and maybe he was. Where he was running to he did not know… but he never knew. He was so scared he did not notice that the tree formations became denser, that the forest swallowed the sky above him and that the only light came from the ominous lights that shone vaguely between the trees. He was so scared he did not notice that he was no longer in a forest but in a prison. And every attempt to escape would be ruthlessly beaten down by the prison guards, the trees.

    The trees… they are alive. I saw one moving, right over… no, over… where am I?

    He now saw shadows everywhere. He saw them in the trees and in the bushes he even saw them moving over the ground, silently as a serpent that creeps up his prey.

    Have I lost it?

    He did not know. But somehow he felt like someone was staring at him. Someone… or something… he was not safe. But was he safe where he was heading? He knew only one thing… if he…

    He did not saw the root sticking out of the ground, he did not saw the tree it was attached to and he did not felt his foot tripping over it, but he did fell the pain that surged through him – it sliced him in to two like a hot knife through butter – when he smacked his head on the ground with such force it was a miracle he did not break his neck.

    What was that? Where did that come from?

    That were the last things that flashed through his mind.

    But did he really trip over the root? Did not the root grab his feet? There was more to the trees than just their mighty appearance.

    He did not know if he had lost consciousness but when he tried to open his eyes he felt a twinge so agonizing he thought he was going to die. He kicked with his feet and threw hands in the air like a mad man and his entire body was racked with sobs. Over time the soaring pain faded. He slowly opened his eyes and he stared right into the eyes of…

    ‘Mum, what are you doing here,’ he shouted astonished.
    Although his mom looked very anxious she said: ‘you don’t have to yell at me, Maku. I’m sitting right next to you. Her voice sounded unnatural and emotionless as if she tried to suppress her feelings.
    ‘But…’ Maku took a look around. He was no longer in the forest; the trees were gone and replaced by the walls of his room. He lay no longer on the forest floor but in his safe and comfortable bed.
    ‘What happened,’ he added quietly more to himself than to his mother. It was as if his energy faded away after he realised he was no longer in the forest.
    ‘You had a nightmare,’ his mother replied and her voice wasn’t as calm – faked or not – as before, but was shaking. ‘You were kicking and screaming and I couldn’t wake you up.’ There was nothing I could do but to stare at you and scream your name.
    She placed her head in her hands. She cried and sobbed uncontrollably. She looked at him with tears shining in her eyes – as dew on the top of a tree when it is being touched by the gentle rays of the sun – and empty she added: ‘You are all I have, and I thought I lost you too.’
    ‘Mom, I am fine, really I am,’ Maku said clumsy and stumbling over his words, uncertain of which words to choose. ‘It was just a bad dream, everything will be all right, trust me.’
    His mother hugged him so tightly as if she was never wanted to let go of him.

    You dirty liar, you know it is not true.

    A voice in the back of his head protested against the things he had told his mother. Somewhere he knew it was no bad dream, somewhere he knew more was going on and involuntary he looked at the bookcase behind his mother. His eyes glanced at a book that was resting on the top shelf. It’s cover had painted on with great golden letters; The Riddle of Doga-Kavuue.

    Last edited by The Stranger; 08-28-2007 at 09:49.

    We do not sow.

  4. #4
    Thread killer Member Rodion Romanovich's Avatar
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    Mar 2005
    The dark side

    Default Re: The Writers - Story Submission Thread for Tasks

    A small story about Mythical Creatures

    Slimy passion

    Zgruug looked at her with a burning gaze. She was about three years younger than him, her tentacles still half-transparent, her antennae green and firm. He could hear her deep breaths, the sound of slimy membranes towards each other, the beat of her heart.

    Her name was Grugll. At least, that what was she had told him when they first met, in that dark cave just a month ago. "Is it only a month?" thought Zgruug, and felt the passion spreading out through his body with each heartbeat. He breathed heavily, and his head went green when he realized that she could probably hear it.

    She smiled, and he could see the circle of shiny, white teeth as she withdrew her tentacles and threw her head backwards, her antennae smoothened close to her sticky skin.

    Her six eyes were all shining brightly, or at least so it seemed to Zgruug, as he leaned forwards, putting two of his tentacles around her beautiful body. She responded with laughter, and gently caressed him over the mouth, removing a small pool of slime that had gathered on his skin.

    He shuddered in the cold, and she dragged him closer, firmly gripping him with her tentacles. From her movement and confident erect pose, he could tell she was experienced; that she had done it before, many times, and that she knew what was going to come next.

    "I love you", he suddenly heard himself mumble, and she laughed again, pressing her slimy, round mouth towards each of his eight tentacles in turn.

    He remembered that night when they first met, how she had come up to him and said, right into his face "I want to procreate with you", as if she had commented the weather. The shock of her sudden approach had lasted for several minutes, he had been unable to respond. Before him, he had seen their eggs, their pupae, the little wallhuggers and later newly born xenomorph children. He could see them both together, taking turns brooding the eggs until they hatched, hunting together, witnessing many rises of the two suns.

    She had made it easy for him. She said she would come back, letting him answer the question later. When she returned a minute later, he had not hesitated. In less than a month, they had gone from total strangers into a couple, looking as if they had known each other from birth.

    Yes, she was beautiful, he thought, staring into her four bottomless front eyes, and she smiled with pleasure as if she knew what he thought.

    He followed willingly when she dragged him into one of the smaller rooms of the cave, into the pitch black darkness. This would be the first time they did it for real. The previous times had ended after some mutual exchange of slime and hugs. This time - he could tell it from her eyes - they would not end until it was completed.

    "Nobody can hear us in here", she whispered in a teasing voice, and he suddenly felt his pulse quickening. There was something that was wrong, he thought.

    "We will not be disturbed", he responded. "We will have all time in the world".

    He could feel her grip tightening, she was now using all eight tentacles around him.

    "Wait... I can't breathe", he tried to scream, but his word came out as a faint whisper. Her mouth was somewhere above his head, he could feel her breath, the scent of vapor and slime, that he had loved so much that first night when they met. But she was not kissing him.

    "Let go!" he tried again, but once more his yell became muffled by the tentacles around him, his compressed body unable to produce any louder sounds. 'Nobody can hear us in here' he heard her voice again. She was pulling him tighter towards her, her mouth touching his head.

    "Aaaargh" he screamed in a sudden rush of pain. He couldn't believe it: she had bitten him in the head, taken off a large chunk of it, and slime was spurting in all directions from the soar. Then she took another bite.

    "This isn't funny!" he said, but she just laughed in response.

    Then he realized what it was - the transparent tentacles.

    She was not a young xenomorph.

    She was an octosquid.

    Too late had he realized his mistake.

    An octosquid!

    It was his last thought before everything went black.


    Oh, and credits to the idea of this story goes to a small fiction writing tutorial I found that said "you wouldn't write a passionate scene between two aliens, would you?" Well, I decided it was worth a try...

    Edit: CC Level 5 please!

    I have read the other two above, please say which CC level you want if any!
    Last edited by Rodion Romanovich; 08-29-2007 at 21:36.
    Under construction...

    "In countries like Iran, Saudi Arabia and Norway, there is no separation of church and state." - HoreTore

  5. #5
    Retired Senior Member Prince Cobra's Avatar
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    Jan 2006
    In his garden planting Aconitum
    Blog Entries

    Post Re: The Writers - Story Submission Thread for Tasks


    " My son, I am sure you know what is this, " the older man said.

    " Yes, I do, father. It is a skin of a snake "

    " Correct, but do you remember - " the older man could not end since he started coughing. He had always been full with energy but the illness and his difficult life finally transformed him into a ruin. It was clear he will not survive until his fifities. " Do you remember what happens with the snakes when they grew very old? "

    " I do, father, the venomous become a flying lamias but the non-venomous dragons "

    " Good boy," the old man said, though his son was in his middle twenties. And probably his life was not much easier than his father's. He had lost his only wife when she died when she tried to give life to her child. But the child was born dead and she died soon after. " I have always taught you to respect the dragons who protect the village from the lamias who are trying to harm us using hailstorms. But now it is different. Your sister is ill, very ill. It is not the case of your mother and brothers and sisters, " he had lost five children in baby age and in their youth. Now he had only him and his sister. And he felt everything was in his hands. He was the man of the family." It is the unknown disease. And I know what the cause is. I have been told she had been attended by a mysterious creature. His silhouette was of a man but nobody entered in the house. Instead there were some strange noises and a mysterious wind. You know what this mean... "

    " Father, I know but can we use herbs to destroy the magic? "

    " My son, " the father shook his head," the legends say so but it seems the dragon is very powerful. Sometimes our legends turn out to be wrong..."

    " Do you want me to kill him? "

    " I am afraid there is no other way to save your sister. Otherwise she will die "

    " But what about the village, we will have no protector - "

    " My son, your sister - , your sister - " the old man was gasping for air. " Your sister can die," he said as he stopped coughing. " Another dragon will be bread... " Then the old man stretched his hand and took a mysterious long object wrapped in clothe. " Here is your sword - it served me well. I do hope it will serve you too. "

    " Father -"

    " This is your duty. She is your sister. Go and kill him. I have put opiate in his the sheep he ate for dinner. He will sleep very deep. And listen to my instructions. I can not survive the loss of my single son. There must be somebody to continue the blood of my ancestors "

    The younger man could say nothing more: he also loved his sister. He had seen how her life was ebbing from her weak body. So slowly but so surely. Now it was in the very same well his reistance to his father's words was melting...

    Here was he in the midnightwalking through the dark fields. He knew there were many creatures lurking in the darkness. Some of them were fearsome, otrhers amazingly beautiful but all were threat for the human beings. He strengthened his grip on his father's sword and stared in the darkness. He saw the silhouette of the mountain where the monster lived. His sister had to be saved and the monster that had seduced her killed. There was no other way...

    The dragon was not sleeping. He was thinking. The dragons were closer to the human beings than the people thought. Their body looked like a giant lizard with wings but they also had their feelings. They could think, they could even fall in love. And sometimes their heart led them to forbidden love with a human. This love could not lead in anything good: the humans lived so short and were too weak. But love never asks for permission. He remembered the day he saw her... He had transformed into a manand had gone to the local marketplace. And she was... beautiful. She also liked him. It was not only the magic that made them lovers. And even when she knew the truth nothing changed. If it was not love, the herbs would have helped.She loved him and he loved her. This was all... Then he fell asleep.


    The man had finally reached the lair of the monster. He had never killed. But this was not a human being but a creature of the Devil that had seduced his innocent sister. He looked around. The torchlight revealed him the bones of the sheeps he had consumed. The shepherds of the village had given him food as a gratitude for his protection. They also sent him milk. Nobody had forced them to do so. Even the priest of the village gave some of his sheeps absolutely voluntarily. There were rumours he even prayed for the health of the dragon. They all knew: the dragon must be strong in order to protect them.
    And he was. One year ago evil people had tried to take his life. Instead they lost their own. This made his skin crawl. Was he the next miserable creature that will find his death tthere? He doubted it. Jesus would save him from this peril. He would understand: the dragon was not of this world and he had seduced his sister. Finally, he overcome his fear and entered in the cave. He passed further in the stone corridopr finding more sheep bones. There was disgusting reek of carrion. An very loud noise produced by the sleeping dragon. Finally he saw him. He knew it was enough to stab him straight in his heart and he will die. He approached him. The dragon did nothing. Jesus helps me, the man thought. Then he pointed the edge of his sword at the place the dragon heart was beating. Another moment of suspense and then... nothing. He could not do it. Was this the gratitude for preserving the village from famine? How many time would it take for the new dragon to become so strong? Could he kill only for his family reasons leaving the whole village at the mercy of the lamias? And was he sure his sister was really enchanted by the dragon? He could not. Then he withdrew. However his hands were trembling and he dropped the sword.


    The dragon was awakened by the clinging noise. Enemies, he thought and showered the direction of the noise with fire. A short cry followed. He saw a man writhing in pain. His body was burned severely. He also saw the sword. It was clear for the dragon what had happened. The man had tried to kill him. He would pay. he approached him slowly. Then he put his paw on his fallen enemy. He heard the man moaning and asking for mercy. In vain. He was doomed. He saw at his eyes. The one of them was missing burned by the fire. The other expressed mortal fear. And then... He recognized the brother of his beloved. He had come for revenge to save his sister. In his eyes the dragon was foreign, dangerous, bringing death. And probably he was. Yes, he was. But he will not let him die. He would not end this life just like that. He was determined to save him...


    It was dark. A hooded figure stood before two graves. Both of them were dig the morning before. Both of them kept one blood - brother and sister, the last of their family. And there was another body lying on their graves. He was a man in his late forties. His white hair showed difficult life, so his furrows did. Probably he was very ill. But he had not died of natural cause. There was a sword stabbed in his body. The poor man had commited suicide. Great sin. He had destinied his soul to eternal suffering. But there was worse - the suicide souls were cursed, many of them could not passin the other world. They just stayed here drinking blood to continue their miserable existance. Just like the giggling souls around. They wanted his blood and they would have it. But he, the dragon, needed to say goodbye to his love. First he left a rose on the grave of his brother - he could not save him despite all of his magic.Then he passed the corpse of the father: he hoped people will not let him become a vampire on time. And then he reached her grave. His love. He put two roses on her grave. Two red beautiful roses. She died because of him. And she saved him: the day before the accident he was not hungry, he was thinking of her. This seemed to save his life. And now he will live his lonely life. Thousand years alone. Why? He did not know. He kneeled and kissed the soil of the grave. Kiss for goodbye, my love. Soon after he was walking away from the place occupied by the vampires feasting the old man's blood....


    Hope you liked it. Well, show no mercy. Btw, I will try to read the others stories here.

    For mine story. It is absolutely inspired by the Balkan, especially the Bulgarian old beliefs and customs. I will be very happy if you have any questions
    R.I.P. Tosa...


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