Failing NaNoWriMo

Well it seems that illnesses, work and buying a new house has put a serious hurting on my NaNo attempt :( but I haven't given up hope yet...

Here is what I have so far, feel free to laugh at the many terribly written sections! haha (its NaNoWriMo what would you expect?)

Project Leona:
The Black Swamp







Eron sat watching the blood red sunrise creep over the distant peaks. It had been three months since he left the safe haven he called home deep in the Galea forests back west. The rebellions against the Keiran Empire had grown intolerable, although they were rebelling an evil; the rebel nations were guilty of terrible evils themselves. Now here he was, thousands of miles from home at the edge of a vast swamp, alone with no idea where to go to remove himself from the war that was slowly claiming his existence. After finding that his father was a spy for the Empire sent deep into the Rebellion that he had thought were his people and his best friend ran off to fight the day he turned sixteen and was able to join the fight. The sun was nearly clear of the peaks now and glowing a brilliant orange but Eron noticed the blood red distance he had been staring at was still there at the edge of the swamp, it seemed to wave and pulsate.
Eron put himself to work on a small fire to prepare a small breakfast and to help keep his mind off the things that were haunting him. He kept a watchful eye on the growing red storm, he had heard about hunting parties around the edges of the Black Swamp, tales of horrible men, cannibalistic and brutal. He wasn’t sure how much was truth and how much was hearsay but he was not eager to find out. Eron pulled a small bread from his pack and a small bag of leaves to boil some tea. He found himself unable to stop his mind from drifting to his odd daydreams.

Dim cathedral walls danced to the rhythm of a hundred white candles. No light streamed through the stained glass and bells rang from deep within the corridors. There was a sense of some terrible presence but it seemed to be empty. Eron passed slowly between the dark pews his focus directed on a small doorway in the back that stood open and black. He could hear breathing, long, labored and very unnatural. He felt a strong sense of urgency to leave but his legs seemed to carry him on their own accord. Passing the last row of pews, he came to the gaping darkness and stood staring into nothing where there seemed something with ill intent was laying in wait. He took a step inside but was ripped away from his vision by a loud cry.

Eron jumped to his feet angry at himself for drifting in a place as dangerous as this but he had no time for that now. He was about to be confronted head on by a swarm of men clad in blood red, thick leather flying banners of red with markings he had never seen. Their weapons were drawn and the speed at which they were coming gave convincing evidence of lethal intent and they were much too close to try and escape. Close enough to make out the blood thirsty expressions on their faces. Doom was upon him, but of course this is the beginning of the story and he is the main character so doom would not claim him just yet.
A loud explosion ripped blue and purple through the front line and seemed to stop the rest of the men nearly dead in their tracks. Their attention turned to something that was fast approaching them front behind. Eron was about to be thrown once again into a war not his own and one he had no care to join.
Giant wolves large enough to carry the riders on their backs. Eron could see about ten riders, these men were much different than the others in red. They wore white and purple robes and most wore their hair long, they all seemed to have eyes that almost glowed. The after effect of the odd explosion still crackled and hummed through the air and Eron took the distraction to gather his gear and ready his knives, though knives seemed quite useless against swords and phenomenal explosions. Still, better to have some form of defense. Three men seemed undeterred by the approaching riders and seemed still bent on reaching Eron and were soon upon him. He pulled his knives up into combat ready position and charged recklessly at the closest one. He raised his blade and came down for a fatal slash releasing a cry of fear and effort just before darkness took him.
His heart pounded in his head and his eyes were slow to open and even slower to adjust and focus. Dead branches, black against a gray sky passed slow in his blurred vision, and he could feel something cutting into his wrists that were above his head. His back and legs were wet and he realized he was being dragged.
“The more you squirm, the more it hurts.”
Eron wasn’t sure where the voice had come from, his vision was still narrow and he couldn’t quite seem to get his bearing. He tried to call out but his own voice was hoarse and strained.
“You’re lucky we’ve already fed. But I’m afraid your luck might not last much longer if we get a good trade from Andrea.”
Eron found his voice a bit, “who… where are we…”
“Be still, the more blood you waste on the ground the less we will get for you back at Council.”
The dark edges around Eron’s vision were closing in again and the gray slowly blinked out.
A violent jar awoke Eron once again and he found himself face down on cold stone. His limbs were sore and stiff and took some convincing to push his body to an upright and finally standing position. He was in a small cell with three others. One stood at the cell door yelling at the backs of two men, one sat shivering in the corner and the other was slumped awkwardly against the wall, his arms and thighs horribly scarred and bleeding. Even the small cloth that covered his groin was soaked in blood, he seemed to be unconscious.
The man yelling turned to see Eron had gotten to his feet and gave a look of disgust. “Have any idea where you are? You are young and fresh… you should get sold easily. Which means we ‘scraps’ will stay caged up for those monsters to ‘feed’ on even longer.” The man moved in closer and his demeanor turned from disgust to anger, almost maniacal. “Of course I could gut you myself and bleed you out now before they return… then I could get sold and finally be put out of misery…”
Eron instinctively reached for his knives but found they were not there, but this man looked old and worn albeit completely insane and unpredictable. But before Eron had a chance to suppress the threat the man turned and retreated to his post at the cell door.
“But if I end you here then you wouldn’t get to experience all the fun of a feeding…”
“I don’t understand, what is a feeding and who am I being sold to?”
The man turned as if excited and clapped his hands laughing, “Oh boy! Fresh indeed! Why you are in the custody of the Blutsauger and they plan to trade you to the Strigoaica… then they will cut you open and drink your blood in frenzy as if it were some magical elixir that granted ultimate power!” The man then furrowed his brow and began to wag his finger, “Of course you may get lucky, if luck is what you would call it, and you could be chosen as a seeder if you desired by one of the Lady’s daughters, or beasts I should say.”
“So the rumors are true? There are vampires dwelling in the Black Swamp… and that is where they have brought me…”
“Rumors? Oh, no rumors my friend, they are wicked people who are sick in their minds. They crave the blood of others… god damn cannibals they are! They don’t eat the flesh but they have no problem draining us dry of our blood.”
Eron opened his mouth to ask another question but the two men standing outside the small cell turned, unlatched the cell door and shoved the ragged man to the floor. They shackled the four of them with a heavy metal collar around the neck each connected to another by a short length of chain. The unconscious man was dragged by shackles on his ankles that were chained to the old man’s collar. The were lead through a long narrow corridor lit very poorly by wide spaced torches that burned too close for comfort as they passed. Finally they came to a large wooden door that gave a loud thunk that echoed as it was unlatched.
Inside was a long series of tables where many women of all ages sat facing the men as they were led inside and arranged single file down the length of the tables for all the women to inspect before being once again place side by side in front of them all. Three women got to their feet and headed over to inspect further. One was a b it older and seemed dressed more elaborately. The way she carried herself gave evidence of her power, Eron guessed she must be Lady Andrea. The other two were younger, possibly in their late teens, about his age. The women ignored the other three men chained to Eron as they had obviously already been through careful inspection. Eron was fresh.
One of the younger girls seemed shy, the other two were staring and thoroughly inspecting him up and down, but she kept her hands mostly to herself and avoided eye contact with Eron. The two aggressive girls seemed very pleased with what they saw in him and the younger said, “Lady, I choose him to be my seeder.” She gave a wicked smile to Eron and pulled the chain connected to his collar, forcing him to his knees, “and if he does not obey” she raised one eyebrow, “then I shall drain him”.
Eron wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by “drain” but he was sure it wasn’t something he wanted any part of. The Lady and the men that brought Eron in stood and debated a bit over a proper price for him and an agreement was finally settled upon. The other captives were hauled away as they displayed looks of both relief and defeat and behind them three women from one end of the large table followed the captors out giggling and groping, obviously their payment for Eron.
Eron was led by the girl who had claimed him down many halls that were poorly lit and finally into a small room where short chains were anchored in many spots to the floor, walls and ceiling.
“I’ll be back after feeding. Then we shall see what kind of price you were really worth…”
With that she chained his arms uncomfortably high above his head and stretched so that his toes struggled to keep contact with the ground. And the she left, pulling a massively thick wooden door behind her plunging him in almost complete darkness.
Eron could not sleep; he was tired but too confused, too scared and much too uncomfortable to manage any kind of rest. He tried for hours to keep his weight off his wrists by keeping his toes on the ground but he could no longer handle the cramping in his legs. He could feel the shackles on his wrists cutting his flesh but there was nothing he could do about it. It was so dark and quiet, all he could see was the faint orange dance of a dim torch that cast what little light it could manage under the small crack at the bottom of the door, and all he could hear was his heart and a faint ringing in his ears. Every time the chains would rattle it was like a trumpet in his ear. But the worst thing was having no idea where he was exactly and no idea what these people planned to do with him.
The door thumped and echoed in room, and it swung open revealing a silhouette where it had stood. The figure grabbed the torch from the hall and began pouring a liquid into what looked like a trough that ran along the walls in the floor. And then put light to the liquid with the torch sending a flame that quickly snaked its way around the trough. The room brightened so much so quick that Eron jerked with the shock to his eyes and tried to squint through the pain the light caused. As his eyes adjusted he saw the girl whom had claimed him standing in the center of the room in a large robe and wild flames that whipped and jerked along the walls. Eron stood on a sort of bridge or platform over the trough that kept the flames from consuming him but they were so close on either side that his flesh seemed to cook and sweat was already streaming from his pores.
The girl dropped her robe and wore a very tight fitting leather one piece that barely covered her body. She unchained Eron from the wall and he fell, unable to hold himself up on his legs. But she seemed to not care that he could not stand, in fact she was pleased. Her hands were adorned with rings on each finger, each with a small razor fastened on its facet. She wasted no time putting them to use. She pounced on him flipping him to his back and straddling him, he was too weak to fight back, and she chained his arms and legs to the floor. She used the razors to slowly cut the fabric of his clothing and stripped him almost naked.
“You are going to be my seeder. The more you resist the more you will bleed. My name is Emille Leona and I expect a name from you as well.”
“…Eron… Onan.”
She jabbed her fist hard into his chest and he tensed with the pain of the razors holding his breath as she kept her rings buried firmly in his flesh. “Your full name! If you are to give me your seed then I must know the blood line from which I am to receive!”
Eron was puzzled, why should he tell her this? What could it possibly hurt to tell her who his name and his blood line? But it must be important if she was so adamant about it.
She slowly drug her fist down his chest opening paper thin slits in his skin and his breath released with a cry of pain. “I am not to be kept waiting”
“Eron Valerian Onan… Son of Abram Farrah Onan… of the Keiran Empire…”
“Empire blood, oh what a find you are indeed.”
She seemed particularly pleased with this information. Though there are never many of Keiran blood ever found wandering in the free lands of the rebels, he still did not see why she would be so pleased about it. She pulled her hand away releasing the razors from his skin and the small cuts burned and bled a surprising amount for their size. She lowered her head and licked the blood causing him to twitch with pain as her tongue slid over the small slits. The taste of blood seemed to ignite some carnal trait inside of her and she began to act wild as if some crazed animal. She thrashed her body and head from side to side her hair flailing with each violent jerk. She brought the back of her hand down over and over on his chest, sides and abdomen opening his flesh, his blood starting to flow freely. And the more he bled the more she thrashed and rubbed her own body in the blood and licked at it. Sometimes even sucking at the wounds causing Eron to cry out in intense pain.
This seemed to go on for hours the cutting, thrashing and drinking. And Eron was near to passing out. Finally she stopped, her hair a mess covering most of her face and she was out of breath. She stood without a word and grabbed the bucket she had used to fill the trough with and dumped the liquid on his cuts causing him to do some thrashing of his own. The pain was extreme. The liquid was very oily and had a very unusual odor that Eron had not smelled before. She walked to the door and struggled with a lever beside the door that as it went down it caused covers from the base of the walls to extend over the troughs extinguishing the fire. She left the room closing the door, plunging him once again into silent darkness.
There he lay, shivering with pain and exhaustion for what seemed days. Every once in a while he would jerk as if waking suddenly but he couldn’t tell if he had slept or not. He had no idea how much time had actually passed or how much he did or did not sleep. All he knew was pain, soreness, darkness and silence.
Once again his mind drifted to the dark cathedral, where he stood at the pitch black doorway.

Eron stepped inside the door, abandoning all the pulling within him trying to get him to turn and run. He walked and walked through the darkness expecting to reach a wall, but the wall never came. It got colder and colder until his body started to shutter with the crisp air. He began to hear a low hum that seemed reverberate off unseen walls. The a voice stopped him with an involuntary shiver. “Through the sands that bury men. To track the white snow. Into the ice and across its bite the cave is where you’ll find me. There the cut to give the flesh the gruesome beasts for binding.”

A hand swept across his face breaking Eron from his dreamlike state and Emille sat with her face inches from his and she whispered, “Where does your mind wonder when you jerk and twitch so…”

Three Words of Doom

This is an older piece but one of my favorites. The challenge here was to write a story using only 100 words and there could be no repeat of ANY word. It was actually pretty tough but here it is, 100 words exactly with no word used more than once:


Three words of doom; Love, hate, death. Conjointly they destroyed one poor man...

Two strangers crossed paths with attentions unpaid, yet a tug from forces unknown compelled them both into reaction. He looked up at her, the other vice versa, igniting some distant burning lust residing inside. An instant forever changing their lives. Hearts quickly merged for many years through that fate. However, anger would soon take over, consuming such passion. She had been seducing another while promised to him. Now his devotion faltered allowing intense outrage it’s reign. Bullets flew dispatching bilaterally, leaving naught but lonely anguish and torment...

NaNoWriMo

Ugh... I am laid up in quarantine for the next 4 days as I recover from Swine Flu! But this time spent sleeping and zoning due to being over medicated has helped me realize the perfect story for this year's NaNoWriMo.

For those who don't know what NaNoWriMo is:
National Novel Writing Month is an event where writers of any gauge from never written a story to best selling authors attempt to write a 50,000 word novel between Nov. 1st to Nov. 30th www.nanowrimo.org

This is my first year and I can tell it will be a challenge! Sure it's only about 1,667 words a day but this happens to also be the month that we are closing on our house and moving! Not to mention my son's 8th birthday and of course Thanksgiving... this November is going to be CrAzY!!

About Project Leona:
This is a story idea that I have been tossing around for about 2 years, I have done tons of outlining, character development and world building but every time I tried to start writing it I had no idea where to start. I would either get tired of looking at a blank Microsoft Word screen and give up or start writing a completely different story... But with NaNoWriMo, my intro can be complete garbage and I am not allowed to dwell on it so it should work out perfect! And with this story, 50k words is probably not even enough to finish book 1.

Anyway, wish me luck for this year, and if you are participating as well then let me know, maybe we can help each other get through the inevitable rough parts!

Nonsense

I want to write things that do not make sense
I need to write things that do not make sense
From now until nay
From hither till hence
No more do I strive
For the making of sense

Pentamerous squelch to the fall of mankind
Dry tears from the bucket lonely virgin doth find
Such a wise man did speak
Educated fools shriek
Said him: “This doeth that when black blood runs the child”
They: “This is so that where that has done this... THE CHILD! God help us...
A future so bleak”

He with the ray for who aliens have spoke
Woven tales of great greed though advances are broke
Pigeons can’t lay with the organs of man
Else the wife would have laid the wisest egg in the land

Wishes are tossed to a diamond filled sky
Instead should be tossed where all parties denied
He is this he is that, such a leap has been made!
But look, in the devil’s big bed he still lays

Bring the big cameras and the whole glim-glam squad
March I say march on the powers of fraud
Return the great beauty to they who are it
Presto shazam look at how it all fits

Sense, you say sense?
I am making much sense?
Well if you pay close attention
I said hither till hence
Not a lie then hath fallen
From my nonsensical lips
If sense is not made
Just read once and think twice
And dance to the rhythm
So infectious called Life

Prophetic Visions of End Times

And then there was

October Road

You and me

Remembering

Walking hand in hand

Time was our only enemy

I still feel

Your warm touch on me

As we walk

That long October road

I still see your bed

Still hear that somber news

Your sick they said

No chance to make it through

I still cry

When I think of you

And when we walked

That long October road

Still feel the pain

It doesn’t fade

How could they

Say you passed away

We weren’t done

Please god let her stay

I just close my eyes

And walk with you

Down that long October road

Stellar

Drink in your love

Baby you're killing me

Sweetly

When you kiss me I'm done

Lying quiet staring

While energies are blaring

Heat igniting passion

Desire kills despairing

We float in timeless space

Oblivious in our embrace

There are happenings around us

But those memories erase

Two junkies on a binge

Our souls become unhinged

They're blazing up above us

Causing lips on skin to singe

Exploding all around us in a heavenly display

Our bodies locked

Our thoughts are lost

In total disarray

Drink in your love

Baby you're killing me

Sweetly

When you kiss me I'm done

Time is like a void

When I'm laying in your arms

Colliding colors softly

Array of cosmic bombs

It’s limitless and effortless

We dance in silent stillness

Your smile bright

Your eyes ignite

I know you've got this illness

Lay with me until it’s done

But for now it’s just begun

A beautiful starry gaze

Quench my thirst for many days

Hungry

Intense

Stellar

Bliss

Words that describe the spark of our kiss

Drink in your love

Baby you're killing me

Sweetly

When you kiss me I'm done