Stories and Poems
Issue 10 brings with it three continued stories and a new one from our latest author. In part 5 of the Runescape Story, Courage by Jamster hope is fading fast for the forces of good. Can light prevail or will darkness and pain win through? Next we have the final, thrilling installment of Seclusion by Adam?, the insightful and sympathetic story of a loner and the hostility he faces at school. Scary Pudding serves up the third helping of Waves in which we explore another spine-chilling side to this darkly and, dare I say, scarily imagined future. To round out the collection, new staff member ZacharyB gives us the first part of Pitawakia, an intriguing opener which twists its way to a cliff-hanger set up for the next installment.
I am sure you will enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed working with their authors.
SlashingUK
Courage - Part Five - By: Jamster
A fierce wind blew across the charred helms of the warriors fading into view beside the ruins. At their head, slowly reforming, were three figures, glowing orange in the late afternoon Sun. The gusts subsided as the statue-like bodies became solid. Fourteen sets of darkened armour stood, motionless, as two of the leading group broke from the formation.
“Her mind still resists us,” Tarfel murmured, his dark grey robes billowing beneath him. The aeromancer knelt beside the serpent’s vessel, the empty shell that Juna once held full control over. He stared through her cold, lifeless eyes, muttering words of darkness to her, attempting to blacken her heart even more.
“Tarfel, you vex yourself most unnecessarily,” the other commented, conjuring a small sphere of water and toying with it in his hands. “Look, see. She grasps the blade with all of Mordecai’s bloodthirst, I have all faith in him.” Oblivious to his brother, Tarfel continued. The watery orb suddenly splashed over his right shoulder, breaking Tarfel’s concentration. He whirled around, and turned to face his brother.
“Akran, I do not care about your faith,” he hissed, angrily. “I do not care what my brother may have done. If she breaks free,” Tarfel stood up, “if she escapes,” he raised his withered hands, “the fury of the Gods will smite us all. That is a risk I can well do without.” As he spat out the last words, he threw his hands forward, letting a great gust surge forwards, knocking his brother backwards into a nearby tree. “You would endanger us all just because you believe I am ‘unnecessarily vexed’?” he shouted over the roaring winds, “Come let us see what amazing power you have that could defend us from the Gods!”
“ENOUGH!”
The wind suddenly subsided, and Akran sank weakly to the floor, shivering. Tarfel stood back, and lowered his shrivelled hands, guilt creeping across his face.
“We do not have time for this!” snapped Mordecai’s disembodied voice inside their heads. “The serpent is broken,” the voice softened, “her will is mine, there is no danger. Move quickly, I have the Northern Gate under control.” Tarfel nodded slowly and, murmuring an apology to his trembling brother, turned towards the darkened vessels and swiftly gave his orders. In unity, they drew their flaming blades, turned, and advanced on the ivory walls of Falador.
The vessels that once had guarded their glorious city surrounded Mordecai and stood, motionless as his orders were embedded into their empty minds. While his dark chants blackened their hearts, he brought his burning blade up to their own weapons and, as they touched, the magical fire spread across them. Once all were blazing, he sent them away, into the heart of Falador. There would be no escape.
“Sir! Black Knights sighted to the South, permission to enga…”
“Silence. Do I not have eyes? Just shoot.” The young guard was cut off by Commander James’ terse reply. He let fly with a barrage of arrows at the nearest group of knights. The others on the battlements followed suit, firing arrow after arrow into the midst of the army of darkness. The commander swore as a sudden gust of wind blew their arrows into the ground a good few feet in front of the advancing army, cursing his bad luck. Whispering a prayer to save his soul, he notched another arrow into his longbow.
Tarfel brought his hands up again, sending another gust of wind to knock away the arrows from above. The humans had limited projectiles, they could not keep this up for long. Such a brave and magnificent city, reduced to hiding behind stone walls the moment anything threatens them. With a final sweep of his hands, the furious swarm of arrows subsided. His brother’s orders seeped into their blank minds, and they fell as one upon the locked Southern gates.
The commander had stopped firing his arrows. There was black magic at work here; he need not waste his arrows for their enjoyment. He shouldered his bow, and ordered the others to do the same.
“We shall hold our position here. Do not fire unless at point blank range, repeat, do not fire, unless at point blank range.” He commanded, “Nobody is to leave their post until the threat has been removed.” From beneath his tunic, he drew a small dagger, which glinted in the late evening Sun. If he had to die defending his city, he would.
The gate was holding, barely. The guards had not fled as had been expected, either. Was this the power of the Gods? No mortals had stood fast before such terror before, but courage alone would not save them. Tarfel glanced at his brother, who nodded. He brought his arms up behind him, muttering ancient spells. Slowly, he began to rise into the air, wind billowing beneath his cape and robes. The guards on the battlements stood, open mouthed, watching him ascend.
Commander James swung his bow round and launched a savage shot at the floating mage. Tarfel brushed it aside, and gracefully landed on the battlements. Their eyes met for a split second, before Tarfel, lightning fast for his age brought up a powerful gale that hit the commander right in the chest, knocking him sideways, pushing him close to the edge of the parapet. The look of sheer terror in the commander’s eyes filled Tarfel with a wonderfully exhilarating rush of power as he pushed him over the side.
“Which of you is next?” he smirked, with the wind billowing around him.
Mordecai observed the chaos he had caused with a great satisfaction. The time was drawing nearer. He could feel the energies beneath the city already – his master would reign again. As the pile of bodies brought to him to be reanimated grew, so did the grey, pulsating mass that fed upon their life-force.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reached deep inside his consciousness.
“Lagast, are you prepared?” The message echoed in his head, he prayed for a response.
“I am, my brother.”
“Do it then.”
Lagast muttered the final words of his incantation, and slammed his staff into the cold, dry earth. A small crack raced away from the point where his staff touched the ground. It moved faster, towards the Northern Walls of Falador, dancing and playing with the grass around it. The crack split into two, then four, then eight. They danced and intertwined in the earth, each growing steadily larger and wider. They met the city walls and drove straight past them, ripping up turf, upturning statues and breaking through the stone paths of the city. The fissures ripped through Falador, tearing down buildings centuries old, and swallowing anything in its wake. The four brothers looked on, shivering with excitement as their seeds of chaos took root.
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Seclusion - Conclusion - By: Adam?
A light rain came down upon the town. Outside, small children hurried outside to partake in the merriment that comes with rain, while their parents yelled at them to come in. Adults, who are usually not as fond of the rain, hurried for the protection of buildings and the streets were left empty. In a small alley, a boy stirred, taken out of his memories of a time long ago. His eyes opened a bit, and he watched the rain cascade upon him. He sighed and did a quick damage assessment. He sat up, and felt little pain. Examining himself further, it would appear this punishment wasn't as bad as the last, thankfully so. He stood up, and was glad to see that he would be able to make it home without that much of a struggle.
Adam made his way out of the alley and towards his house. He noted the bareness of the streets, and lifted his head towards the sky. The emptiness of the dark, gloomy sky. The gray color that perfectly reflected his feelings. The cool water washing away the grime. All of it seemed to be perfectly set for what had happened not too long ago. He let the rain wash over him, cleansing him, letting him start over. He had to do something, this he knew now. He realized that he was at his house, and started up the steps. A door stood before him, and he slowly opened it. Silence. This was the greeting he was used to. Before, he may have called to see if anyone was home. He grew out of that a long time ago.
"I'm really surprised by what happened the other day, Adam. You aren't usually the type to cause trouble."
He was standing outside of his classroom with his teacher looking him over with a slight frown.
"I promise it won't happen again," he murmured.
"I would hope not," his teacher said, "Also, did something happen to you the other day? You look a little…"
"It was nothing," Adam interjected as he walked into his classroom. His teacher felt that something was wrong, but decided to let it go.
As Adam sat down in his desk, there were no remarks from Mark, as was the norm. He looked back towards Mark, and saw a dead face, forever looking forward. This worried him, as when Mark is emotionally unstable, he tries to show off as little emotion as humanly possible. Adam thought about how this made him appear to be tough, but in reality, this was a mask to cover the opposite.
The day came and went quickly, as always, and Adam prepared himself for what was to come. He collected his things, and walked out of the door with a steady face. Mark watched him walk out, his eyes showing nothing, showing none of the fear and anger that burned within him. Would Adam ever seek to hurt me? That was a question he asked himself, and decided not to worry. He would make him regret what he did, and now that the shock had worn off, he would be able to deliver a message in the form of true pain.
Adam did not hurry, nor did he slow down. He sensed Mark's gaze burning into the back of his head, but he resolved to keep moving. He never broke his pace as he made his way to an alley that seemed familiar. He took a turn into it, and waited.
Mark smiled to himself. Instead of trying to get away, Adam was making it too easy. He clenched his fist and told himself that this was all just. What had happened to him had to be paid back in some way. Was it fair for someone to be beaten horribly and for no one else to suffer? Where is the justice in that! He turned the corner where Adam was silently waiting for him. His hand was in his pocket, and he showed no fear. Mark was undeterred by this, and ran forward.
They stared at each other. Mark was a few feet away from Adam, and Adam's hand was resting at his side, his fingers firmly gripping something. The color drained from Mark's face as Adam pointed a sharp object directly at Mark and came forward. Mark felt the tip of it flirting with his neck and with a shriek he fell backwards. Adam was kneeling down on top of him now, pinning him down with his weapon and a sense of authority that Mark had never seen before. Mark made a noise and tried to say something, but Adam would have none of that. He stabbed down with it. And again, and again, and again. Mark screamed and the pain that erupted from the very pores of his soul. Finally, Adam bent his head down low to the body of Mark, and whispered, "punishment". Adam got up and looked down at the pathetic body before him. "What a mess," Adam remarked. He picked up his bags and made his way out of the alley. He looked at the pencil still grasped in his hand, and spun it in the air.
The Next Day
Adam sat at his desk the next day with a small smile on his face. As the rest of the class filed in, no one gave much notice to the empty desk of Mark. When the bell rang and he was still not there, still no one noticed. Three hours later, he still had not shown up, and by the end of the day, his seat was still empty. Children left for home not thinking anything of it, and returned the same way. His seat remained empty, and everyone remained blissfully unaware of that. Finally, after a week of not being there, people began to notice, and rumors began to spread. Did he drop out? Did he move to another town? Was he murdered?
Finally, ten days after his first absence, the door creaked open during third period, and there stood an exhausted looking Mark. He briefly explained that he had not been feeling well, and went towards his desk. He stopped dead when he saw Adam, looking at him with a small smile. Mark's face turned pale, and he put his head down as he shuffled towards his desk. The students recognized this, and found it to be strange that Adam would be intimidating Mark. The day came and went, and Mark was the first to leave the room, seconds after the bell rang. After this, a boy approached Adam.
"Adam, did you do something to Mark?" a classmate asked Adam.
Adam looked up from his paper, "Of course not, but he seems to be out of it today."
"Tell me about it. Hey, we were thinking of getting a baseball game going, want to join in? We're down a player today."
Adam paused and look at the boy. "No thanks," and then continued drawing. The boy shrugged and left with his friends.
Adam was focused on something else. His pencil sliced through the air, creating his masterpiece. A boy, all alone on a hill, overlooking a crowd of children that was below him. The children, with their hands outstretched, called for the boy to join him, but he would not. He could not. All the boy could do was stay on top of the hill and watch while the boy was lost in his own thoughts.
Some people live their lives surrounded by friends and family, Some decide to have a close circle consisting of a small number of people, and then there are those who are people who are perfectly content with being left alone. Perfectly content on living a live of seclusion. A person's lifestyle is up to them and them alone.
The End
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Waves - Part 3 - By: Scary Pudding
After Ryan and Jacob were loaded into the car, the man driving flipped a switch and the windows were blacked out.
"Sorry boys, 'fraid you can't see where we're going," he said in a rough voice.
The car drove nonstop for about an hour. Then suddenly it stopped and they felt it going down on an elevator.
"The lower city," Jacob murmured "now we know these guys are no good."
The car stopped, and the driver roughly unloaded them from the back seat. The boys were in what appeared to be a large warehouse. The man led them through a door, and they were surprised to find themselves in a high tech office complex. The man told them to go with another guard, and he continued leading them past advanced computers where eventually they came to a door simply labeled "The boss"
"Wait here, and don't get no ideas about escaping," the man said and he walked into the room.
He came out of the office about 15 minutes later and gestured for them to walk inside. At the desk inside, a man was sitting smoking a cigar. I can't believe people still do that. Ryan thought.
The man had short blond hair. His skin was ghostly pale and his eyes were covered with sunglasses. He eyed the boys for a moment and then spoke to the guard.
"These the guys that have been messing with our operation?" He said in a quiet, but commanding voice.
"Yeah, boss," the guard grunted.
"Let me talk to them in private, then I want you to lock them up"
The guard left without question. The Boss threw his cigar in a trash can and flashed a perfect smile.
"So boys, what are your names?" He said in a much friendlier voice.
Ryan and Jacob said nothing.
"How did you get that footage?" He tried again.
Ryan and Jacob remained silent.
The man lost his patience. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out what appeared to be a strange looking hammer with a hole at the end.
"See this boys?" he said pointing the end with the hole at them.
"This is a gun. You don't know what they are because your perfect government banned them 200 years ago. And they banned schools from teaching you about them too. They don't want no one getting ideas."
He stood up and began to wave the gun around.
"But I'll tell you what they do. They kill people. That's right," he said noticing the shocked looks on Ryan's and Jacob's faces. "They kill people. 'Cept your government don't want you to know about people killing other people. They don't want no one getting no ideas is what they say. But it used to happen all the time, in the past…"
The man stared out into space, as if recalling some long lost memory. He soon snapped out of it and continued. "Ya know what else boys? I could kill ya right now and no one would know. I know people. I could make it so you never existed. No investigation would be launched, nothin'."
The Boss seemed to regain his composure and pushed a pager button on his desk.
"Get them out of my sight," he said into it.
The same guard came into the room and escorted them out.
"Come on boys, it's time you familiarize yourself with your new home"
The cell Ryan and Jacob in was bare except for two uncomfortable looking cots.
"Our chances of escape are looking pretty dismal," Jacob said lying down on one of the cots.
"You don't have some sort of tool that can break us out of here?" Ryan said.
"I do, but I wasn't expecting to be thrown in a cell today," Jacob answered.
Ryan sighed heavily. He looked around the room trying to find something that could help them escape. Suddenly, the entire cell shook. Must be a wave passing over he thought calmly.
Jacob bolted out of the cot, it creaked noisily.
"I think I can get us out of here!" he shouted, staring at his cell phone.
"How?" Ryan asked excitedly.
"We're underwater, but not that deep. They must have this cell built so the water powers some sort of signal blocker in the cell. But when the wave passed over, the signal blocker powers down temporarily and I managed to get a signal. I could write up a code and I should be able to get a message through to the IPKO to come and rescue us."
"Does it have to be the IP's?" Ryan moaned.
The Intercolonial Peace Keeping Organization was a branch of the government that handled jobs too large for policebots alone. They faced persecution for adapting a stun-first-ask-questions-later attitude and handling everyone, including civilians too roughly. But because they were a government organization, they were considered exempt from the law.
"Yes, unfortunately," Jacob said "I think they're the only ones that can get us out of this place" He pushed a button and a projection of a keyboard was shown on the floor. "Let's begin," he said, and he began typing.
The next two days were monotonous. Jacob spent most of his time typing and retyping his code, and Ryan did nothing. He didn't know anything about programming. Finally, late into the night of their second day Jacob turned off his keyboard and said "I got it!"
It took until early afternoon the next day until they got the chance to test out their code. It looked long and complex to Ryan, but Jacob said "It's simple. We have this section of coding," he scrolled down and indicated a large chunk of text that meant nothing to Ryan "to get through their firewall and the rest of it will hopefully send our message to every computer in their headquarters"
The cell shook, indicating that a wave was about to pass. Jacob held up his cell phone and began pushing buttons on the number pad. After the wave was gone, he put down his phone and smiled "Message sent," he said.
It was 4 days after Jacob sent the first message and nothing had happened. He read over his code multiple times and resent it every time a wave passed over.
"Maybe they're ignoring us," Ryan said.
Jacob sighed and lay down on his cot. "They probably are," he said.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated.
"I got a response!" he yelled.
Ryan looked at the screen to see what they had sent.
"Stop hacking our system, we're coming"
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Pitiwakia - By: ZacharyB
"You be good, Lily," Cathy said as she ruffled her ten-year-old daughter's hair, while her husband Rick was organizing her bags. Cathy would miss her daughter so much. She started to grasp Lily in a warm and tight embrace. Lily was going away for three weeks to summer camp. It'd be the first time they'd be apart, except for the occasional birthday party/sleep over.
Lily squirmed free from her mother's grasp. "Bye Mommy, bye Daddy," Lily replied. Rick and Cathy waved goodbye, shouting out various reminders to her, like any good parent would do. Lily skipped into the big mob of people lining up to get into the buses.
"It'll be ok, Cathy," Rick said, with Cathy's head leaning on his shoulder. Cathy seemed to be taking this really hard. I guess being with someone for ten years, and then losing them for a couple weeks must be hard, Rick thought. Rick could feel Cathy's pain, even though he could handle being seperated from his daughter for a few weeks.
The two parents watched as Lily ran through the crowd. Two girls tapped her on the shoulder, and Lily turned around. Rick recognized these two to be her best friends, Suzie and Morgan. The three girls began to chatter and giggle as they walked up the stairs to the big blue bus.
Cathy and Rick stood in the middle of parents sending off children, until the crowd was just parents staring after the buses. Soon, all the doors closed, and they started to roll off into the lush green landscape that headed to the land known as camp Pitawakia. This was one of the biggest camps in the state. It's known for its friendly counselor, a mile swim across the lake, and the hike up the camp's many mountains, which ends in a huge turkey dinner. It was rumored, however, that the camp was starting to lose money.
One interesting thing about the camp is that no one is sure how it got the name. There are many stories about how it recieved the odd name. The most believed is that special packs of animals live on the mountain. These animals' emotions are said to be enhanced. The normally sweet and kind animals are even more gracious, while the mildly aggressive ones are dangerously vicious. The orignal tribes who lived on the mountain noticed these animals and called them Pitawakians.
"Well," Rick sighed, "I guess we should be going now."
"I guess so," Cathy replied. They walked through the mass of people, Rick twiddling Cathy's bright red hair. They found their white van, got in, drove through the slow-moving traffic in the middle of the pounding summer heat, and went home.
Cathy was still taking it hard for the next week. She seemed lonely and depressed without her daughter by her side. Cathy was writing a letter every single day, which usually had deep thought and time put into them, while getting a response from Lily not saying much. Rick could feel the loneliness radiating from Cathy.
By the second week, Cathy seemed to be getting better. Maybe she started to realize that she wouldn't be around Lily forever. Well, that was Rick's opinion anyway. They were even starting to enjoy this time without Lily. They started going out, doing things with friends. They may have missed having no children to worry about. Maybe even more then having a child.
Cathy and Rick woke up right at the crack of dawn. Rick glanced out the window, to see the red and purple mix of a breathtaking sunrise. He thought that this sunrise was special, for it was the day Lily was coming back to them. Rick jogged downstairs, and started to make some pancakes.
"You make the best pancakes, Rick," Cathy said through a mouth of them. It was true! Rick's pancakes were always warm and fluffy, and he always made them when Lily had friends come over for sleep overs.
After breakfast, they grabbed their coats, and rode down to the camp pick up spot. The buses weren't pulled in yet. Guess we're early, Rick thought. Cathy had a huge, wide grin on her face. They pulled into a spot, and waited.
Cathy started to talk to Rick for ten minutes, then the first bus rode in. Cathy and Rick stepped out of the car, hoping that this bus held Lily's bright smiling face. The bus emptied... No Lily.
More and more buses swept through, but still, no Lily. As Cathy and Rick were gazing out into the parking lot, a voice said, "Excuse me, Mr. And Mrs. Sanchresto."
They turned around and saw a tall man, wearing a camp uniform. They knew who this man was. He was the head counselor at Pitapartia.
"Yes," Rick and Cathy replied.
The man sighed, "I don't know how to tell you this..."
"What?" Cathy asked, with fear in her voice.
"Your daughter, Lily, went on the end of the week hike," the man said. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact with the two of them, but Rick thought he saw tears drip down his face, which just made him more worried. "When we took our end count...she was missing."
Fear and shock ran down the two parents' faces like a stampede.
"Right when we were going to call to alert you, the power lines went dead. We searched for her all night, and all the time we had this morning...but we couldn't find her."
"Well, you can keep on looking right?" Rick asked frantically. Tears were flying down his and Cathy's face.
"Yes...but our camp has the best security system in the nation...If we haven't found her yet." The man went silent for a second. "She's probably gone."
At this, Rick stared into Cathy's face. It looked like her whole world had just ended.
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