Archive for Novel

The Final Element…

Posted in Journals with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 6, 2012 by Kinetic Orochi

The Final Element… Wait…

Currently reading: Under the Dome, pretty cool book.

It’s a story alright, that’s been on my head for quite some time, actually first story I’ve ever thought of and story I have never written. I think it’s the beginning that gets me and I’ve figured that if I could finally manage to decide on how things should start the rest will write itself. I can’t tell you how many times I started on it, get about 5,000 words and just scrap it all. I feel like I want to make it just too epic, is there such a thing. A story that has you hooked all the way.

So I’ve been busy alright. My part-time has been slowly but surely turning into a full-time. Also I’ve done a couple more translation jobs along the way and leaving that out the way I also have gone out for a few days leaving little to no time to have some free time. I’ve worked on the quest line for the game Robin is making, though I haven’t seen him in a while I’m waiting on him for that. I was also offered to write news and articles for an online gaming site, but sadly I haven’t been able to attend any of the trainings because of my schedule.

Last time I had some free time to do anything I tried playing this game called “Two Worlds II” which was okay but didn’t really get much into it, haven’t touched it since. Besides all that I’ve spent some quality time with my girlfriend, and also the less I write the less the ideas come to my head and the worse my writing gets. But I’m decided to change that today. First things first though. I have to get some Chapter Outlines done on my three stories and my other story, The Final Element. I figure this will help a hell of a lot in writing and getting creative in each chapter. However this means that I won’t write much until I’ve outlined plenty of Chapters, also I will probably stop posting a story on my blog when I’m like 5-10 chapters in depending on how long it is. For personal reasons you know, I mean someone can easily take your work online and make it their own, it’s possible and scary in a way.

I almost took a writing job on a freelancing site, it dealt with ghost writing a thrill novel, chapters outlined and all, I submitted a proposal with some writing I’ve done in one of my stories (won’t say which) and it was to their liking. Then I asked myself: Am I ready for this? Well I wished I was; I wanted to jump in and write it all. For a novel with almost 100,000 words, in-your-face style of writing. I would’ve had to give up my job to write it, the job I just got. Of course it would pay more, a lot more, but I had to do well or I would’ve been out and lost both ways. And after that who can say that I would’ve gotten more jobs? I decided I wasn’t ready yet, you just sort of know when you are, and until I’ve written a couple for myself I don’t think I’ll be able to write one for someone else, actually I sort of really don’t want to, I want all the stories I write for me.

– Zogyark

Untitled Zombie Story – Chapter 1

Posted in Novels with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 29, 2012 by Kinetic Orochi

Thanks to my brother for the idea, hopefully I can make this into a nice, sweet, long, horror story.

Chapter 1

Michael Grey exited the CVS pharmacy on June 1st, 2019 at 9:30a.m. Though summer was barely arriving the warm days had already made their appearance. At 75 degrees this morning, it was a day good enough for a nice short-sleeve shirt and some shorts. Yet Michael was wearing a jacket and jeans. He felt so cold, and found it strange for him to get sick on warm days. It was usually in the winter that he would have a runny nose, and get a cold once or twice at most. He was usually a healthy man, but had recently caught some bug from who knows where. He was feeling so bad today that he had to call in sick at his Lawyer firm. “I feel like shit, man. I’m sorry.” He told his colleague, who by hearing Michael’s voice knew he wasn’t kidding. He sounded like a long time heavy smoker that was never wise enough to quit altogether.  “It’s okay, go buy some medicine and rest, we’ll reschedule the appointments for next week.” He let him off and that’s exactly what Michael did. Except the Michael he knew would be no more in a couple of hours.

Michael had a terrible headache; he felt his head constantly pulsating as if his brain would be exploding any minute now. His nose wouldn’t stop running no matter how many times he cleared it. He felt weak, light headed, his eyes were sunken in. His hands and legs sometimes started shaking out of the nowhere.

He got on his 2014 Mustang, and headed out to airport dr. He was feeling very hungry even though he was sick. I guess a nice breakfast wouldn’t hurt; no cold or flu is going to stop my stomach. Once at Williamsburg Rd, he made a right to the Waffle House he was so accustomed too. He started coughing as he drove in. Then he started coughing as he parked. The coughing had been going on for a while, since this morning. He found this cold weird, he had no previous symptoms and he doesn’t remember having had contact with anyone that had it. He was a very clean person, always washed his hands and even usually held the door knob with a paper towel to cover his hands.

He sneezed and coughed again. He turned the car off and looked at himself in the mirror while clearing his nose with a tissue, he looked like shit. “Damn if I could recall all the colds in my life, this is the fucking worst of them all.” He said in his car. He got out and closed the door, and then with his control remote key, he locked and set the alarm on. He opened the door to the Waffle House and went inside.

“Morning Mikie, how are you doing today?” One of the servers asked, a thin lady in her 50’s. In this restaurant, Michael was a usual customer who would usually joke around with the workers and brighten up their mornings.

“As you can see, terrible. I’m hoping some food will cheer me up.” He replied and started coughing again. Even talking was now too hard for him. He stood behind some of the stools, looking down at the menus. The letters seemed to move around. He started to misunderstand words and the images started to make no sense.

“Well, sit down; I will get you your drink, Pepsi right?” The lady asked to confirm Michael’s usual drink. Michael still stood behind the cash register blocking the way for other people. He looked at the menu, filling dizzy, realizing this was a bad idea, he was losing his mind, he needed a doctor but wondered if he should say anything.

“Yes” he said. Still standing, blocking the way for the other customers that were coming in, they were also wondering what was wrong with him, annoyed that this man was blocking their way. Michael finally managed to get some sense and moved to a table. He sat down and ordered his favorite meal; an egg and sausage Texas melt with large hash browns. After ordering he took a napkin and cleared his nose again. This time he found blood on the napkin. He got up and walked towards the bathroom.

A few minutes later, the server lady, Mrs. Ruth, put Michael’s meal on the table. Mikie she had always called him since he was a little kid. She had known Michael for most of his life. She met him on his birthday party when she was invited to a friend’s friend birthday party to talk about a job. Mrs. Ruth had high expectations of herself back then, planning on becoming a nurse for one of the top hospitals in the region. She became great friends with Michael’s mother, often going out with them to restaurants and shopping. After years she wasn’t able to fulfill her dreams, her husband died and her will started diminishing. She got a job at the current waffle house and had been working in it for the last 8 years, often taking Michael’s order and chatting with him about his job and how his mother was doing. Today would be different though.

Michael took a good look at himself, stood there alone in the bathroom in front of the mirror, “What am I?” he asked himself, in a distorted, barely understandable voice. He stood there looking at the strange figure in the mirror. He looked pale; his eyes were sunk in his eye pockets, with dark circles under his eyes. His nose was running, his mouth was drooling, but he did not care about this anymore. Michael sneezed and coughed a few times in the bathroom. Then there was a sudden urge to go back to his table.

He finally went out the door back to his table, hungrier than ever. He sat at his table and stared at his food. Ignoring forks and knives, he started eating like a starving man, with his hands. He ate fast and swallowed a bunch of food at a time, he would start to choke and cough the food out at times. People started to notice this and looked at him in disgust, some even left. Michael ignored this and ate and ate, suddenly he stopped. He realized this was repugnant food, it made him feel sick. This wasn’t the type of food he should be eating, the thought made his stomach turn upside down and he started vomiting over his food.

“Sir, you seem very sick, I think you ought to go to a hospital.” One lady said who had taken notice of Michael since he got out of the bathroom.

“Mikie, I’m going to call an ambulance okay, you seem really sick.” Mrs. Ruth told him, she was worried for Mikie, and she had never seen him look so bad before.

But Michael just sat at his table, he could no longer distinguish voices, faces had changed, his blood started to boil. If someone were to take Michael’s temperature they would find out that it was much higher than what was necessary to live, Michael should have died a couple of minutes ago.

He started making growling noises, like a dog does when its meal is disturbed. He looked up, his eyes were red, he made quick precise movements with his head, looking up, left, right, around the restaurant with his new vision. His vision was different, he saw everything in a red shade, and people for some reason looked very appetizing. This was the food he really wanted, the food that would satisfy his craving, especially that old lady that he once played toys with, held hands with, smiled with.

Michael stood up and then jumped on the table, his head making quick movements, his nose and mouth running with blood, his eyes red, his veins popping. He made a loud shriek that scared some people out of the restaurant, other stood in awe. It was something you would only see in horror movies. He started running and jumped from the table over the counter aiming for Mrs. Ruth, who scared to her soon death put her hands in front of her for protection, but that wouldn’t be any help. Michael grabbed her below her arms and carried her forward about 10 feet before hitting her against the counter. Both fell to the ground and Michael fell on top of her, he started biting off her neck, her arms, and her breasts. This happened so fast that the other workers had little chance to react; finally when one reacted he tried to help her. A tall male cook grabbed a big cutting knife and started running towards Michael, stabbing the knife in the back. Michael felt the sharp pain and started shrieking again, he looked back and smacked the cook with great force, the cook fell back and hit a stove. He moved his arms back trying to reach the knife stuck to his back, but it was in such a way he couldn’t reach it.

People ran out of the place, the ambulance finally got to the scene and luckily also a few cops. Meanwhile inside Michael was still in pain, the cook was getting back up after that hit, and Mrs. Ruth was on the ground convulsing and bleeding to death. Michael noticed the cook and went right after him, the cook got up, stepped his foot forward and tripped Michael into the stove, he was knocked out. The cook got up, breathing fast trying to catch some breath. “You crazy son of a bitch, I’m going to kill you now!” He yelled. He grabbed another knife from the counter, held it up and started stabbing Michael who couldn’t do much the way he was being held.

Mrs. Ruth stood behind the cook, twitching, bleeding, drooling, just as Michael did before. “Oh My God…” one of the scared customers said from behind. Mrs. Ruth led a loud shriek and jumped on the cook, holding onto his shoulders with her arms and started biting his neck; this peaceful Waffle House had turned into a deadly nightmare.

“What the hell’s going on here?” A cop said as he opened the door and went in the Waffle House. Mrs. Ruth noticed him and let go off the cook, she let another loud cry and went for the cop this time. “Shoot her!” someone told the cop. The cop reached for the gun, scared, shaking. This was taking him by surprise and Mrs. Ruth’s speed was a little too much for him. She jumped on him and started punching him in the face and biting it.

“John!” another cop yelled from outside and rushed towards the Waffle House, he took out his gun and aimed at Mrs. Ruth, who looked up, opened her mouth and showed her teeth while growling one last time before being shot in the head.

 


January 19, 2012 – Limitless

Posted in Journals with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 19, 2012 by Kinetic Orochi

Writers, if you’ve never seen Limitless you have to see it… Now.

Movies are always good. Watching movies often will improve your writing skills. You watch a scene and you think “Hey, I could make more of that.” or “I would’ve done this instead” It might not seem relevant at that moment but it will be in the future, in the near future I hope.

I often write about my day if I have nothing else to write about. But who wants to read that right? I’ll write about anything that I can get a hold of. Oh yeah, so why is Limitless a writers movie? Well I’ve been reading through some posts, and I often catch some writers get that infamous writer’s block. When your mind goes blank and nothing comes up, and whatever comes up seems so stupid you just want to quit altogether and eat something, play a game, or do whatever other things you do to pass the time. Limitless is a story about such a writer who seems like he’s going nowhere.. until he finds a little wonderful pill that we all wish we had, and would all probably try it regarding the side effects.

My favorite part of the movie (and I’ll try not to spoil it too much) is when he starts writing, when everything is clear, when the words are flowing through the screen. If you’re really passionate about writing and have written stories, you can tell which moment that is. That’s the moment that you just type, and type, and don’t stop. You don’t want to stop or get interrupted, you’ll miss phone calls, not open the door, not want to eat. Because that moment may not come back soon. All the words come together into nice structured sentences and all the commas and periods fall in the right place. A writer’s dream is to be able to write this way, everyday. If you can do this, you can get far at it, you’ll have hundreds of thousands of words in a few weeks and out of so much words, something good must have come out of it. Unfortunately for most of us, half of the time its not like that. I for example can write a lot sometimes, but more often than not I make grammatical mistakes. Then I have to go back and edit once I’m done and that holds me back for a while from writing the next great chapter, or starting the next great story.

What the movie teaches us, is to use up every minute of our time doing something productive, anything. Go out, learn things, write, apply for a job, talk to people. All of these things will help you. If you find yourself searching on google… What to do when you’re bored. It’s time to change that. And by the way, when you’re bored you can search things starting with what, how, why, when or who and see what the top most searched things are, you’ll have a blast with what you find. Not that I do that, but I’m just saying.

Anyways, I wrote just a little today, There’s always something else to do, chores to attend. I wrote Chapter 2 of Syphon Soul, I think it’s an interesting name for a story, I bet no one’s used that one. I edited that and Chapter 1, though I’m sure there’s still some mistakes. I finished Chapter 1 of The Bond, but I got lazy and didn’t edit that, maybe Mr. Landon could help me out, best English teacher there is, take it from me. I’ll write about him next time maybe unless something else comes up, he’s the man that inspired me to take writing more serious.

I’ll be spending time with a special someone this weekend so I won’t write much unless I have the chance or unless there’s something brilliant that I have to write then I’m sorry for her. I’ll be sure to write at least a post a day, they help a lot, I can see the words in my head just waiting to be released to this page like in the movie.

– Zogyark

The Bond

Posted in Novels with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 18, 2012 by Kinetic Orochi

Chapter 1

The first time Daryl set eyes on Stacey was at 5:42p.m. January 2nd, 2012 at the Barnes and Noble next to the mall. Maybe it was the exciting feeling of a new year and the loneliness of the last one that made Daryl so crazy for Stacey, love at first sight some call it, others call it pure obsession. Daryl grabbed a fictional book called “The Five Elements of Power”. Daryl thought he could achieve many things through literature and learning from books. He had tried the most popular music instruments and a various of sports, learned games and tried out about five different languages, in a way they worked, but learning by reading he never seemed to learned the fullest as someone that learned by growing with the art throughout their life.

Daryl then looked around at the tables and seats in the starbucks, he was very aware of his surroundings. Always picking out who might be hunting or giving welcome signals in the book store. Often than not he was always interested in other people wether it were their mood, their attitude, appearance, relationships and such. Daryl often liked to play out scenarios of the lives of people he would randomly see and make out their life. He often liked to go out to his local shopping mall at Ashton and watch people in the Dining area. He would have a blast there, specially on a Saturday afternoon he would see what he would call “humanity at its best.” A few hundreds of people just living, people he wouldn’t see or remember again yet in that moment, they would serve him for entertainment purposes. These people had no idea and never would, nor would they care of secretly being watched. Daryl of course, like any straight man in the state of Virginia, would watch and appreciate the many beautiful women that roamed the Dining Area. But never he thought, like Stacey. Daryl knows a beautiful woman when he sees her, and that day Stacey was sitting at a table that faced the window. Daryl knew she was the one that very moment, in that split second, he scanned her the way only he knew how. Every single part of her body was now imprinted on his head and his blood started to boil, his heart beating fast and his hands started to shake nervously in his jean pockets.

He walked towards her table, decided on what to do and say, yet as he walked closer his will walked farther away. The more he saw her the more he realized how more perfect she was. It was an instant attraction, the fact that he could not nitpick a single defect on her made him more nervous, and it was sad that for such a good looking guy like Daryl to have such problems when approaching women, often not knowing what to say he would ruin the talk by boring out the conversation with pointless questions that women often heard. Well maybe not all women, but defintely the ones he tried talking to. Very few times had his attempts worked and that was because of his good looks and the drunkness of the women, often leading to regrets the next day and if not short-lasting relationships that lasted no more than three months.

However not this time, Daryl would not ruin his chance at the love of his life. If something he had learned during the past years was that if he were to approach this woman in the current state, he would have about 65% chance of failure, 10% chance of a number, with 5% chance of being fake, plus that he would have 5% chance of her answering it and another 5% chance of getting a date. With all the math he figured out he had about 1% chance of sleeping with the woman of his dreams, and he would not let such chances decide this one.

Daryl sat a few tables across from her and took one quick glance, he tried to read for a bit, “tried” because it wasn’t possible for him to concentrate on any words at that very moment, all the words in the book seemed to switch from its first letter to something else such as “ass”, “beautiful”, “cute”, “dream”, “exotic”, “fuck” and so on until the end of the abecedary, then it would start all over again with different words. After that he took out his phone and pretended to text, but in reality he was typing what she looked like. Blue eyes, dark hair, sexy lips, perfect cheeks, sweet, sexy smile. Beautiful, woman eyebrows, long sexy legs, yummy breasts and booty. Then he thought that wouldn’t be enough, a picture would be. At first he was a little nervous he would get caught, but across from the table and lifting the phone a bit to get her in the camera would not be so difficult, not if done quick. Luckily for him his phone was one of the best in the country. With installed GPS and zoom in and out camera he could take High Definition pictures at any time. He took it out and pretended as if doing something on the phone that wasn’t taking a picture, he turned the volume off to shut the camera shoot sound it would make. He zoomed in to get the full picture of her and took it, then turn the phone as fast as he could. Daryl then knew his job was done for now and before the woman left he had to hurry up and leave himself first if he ever wanted to see her again. He got up, took his book and put it back on a shelf that wasn’t where the book originally was. When he took it he pretended to buy it but he would set that back to another day.

After walking through the parking lot and to his car, he got in and tried to figure out if he could see her from there. He then took out his phone and switched to the picture he took of her. “So Beautiful.” He said as he put his index and middle fingers on the phone and try to feel her in the picture, he couldn’t wait for her. He turned on his car as soon as a car left on the other parking lane and went towards it. His new parking spot was just what he needed, it gave him view of both the window where she was at and the exit of the Barnes and Nobles, there was no way she was getting away from him. He took out his phone and switched to video mode, zooming in on her, he took video of her. Smiling he was excited about it, about now being able to have her in movement, he could distinguish her purple dress in which she looked amazing in. He thought about the chances of her figuring that he was watching her but they were pretty slim to none. He was pretty far away to make out from her distance, she was on her computer doing god knows what, and to make out someone in a car and even the phone, you would have to really pay attention to your surroundings and be someone as observative as Daryl was and for someone to be doing that in a Barnes and Noble while reading who knows what was pretty much not going to happen.

Daryl sat for another 15 minutes, then she finally closed her computer and got up from her seat. Daryl surprised of this quickly sat up straight, he watched as she went out of sight inside the store then ended the video and turned his phone off. Daryl then waited, not taking his eyes out of the door, waited for the moment she would walk out, patiently, then impatiently. Another 15 minutes had passed and no sign of her, could he have missed her? It seemed impossible, he started to impatiently tap his foot. It was a bad habit that he had tried to stop many times and often succeeded, but it often came back to him at important events. After 45 minutes had passed, she finally came out the door, by then Daryl had already given up hope and had calmed down. This however, made him sit up fast again and made him stare at her to make sure she was the one. After a few seconds there was no doubt in this mind. There was that tall, beautiful woman, walking down the parking lot into her car. Daryl took note of the cars plate numbers in case he lost her. He then started to follow. (Needs Editing)*

Syphon Soul

Posted in Short Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 17, 2012 by Kinetic Orochi

I wrote this story for my English II class a few years ago. It was on regular paper, after a while I lost it and never saw it again. Recently my girlfriend said she’d seen and read it and said that she liked it, that it was in one of my drawers. I however, could not find it (weird huh?), so I’ve decided to start it anew with what I remember, besides I had shortened it due to a page limit in my class, but here I will just let go.

Chapter 1

Just another day in Chester, Virginia. There was a strong wind blowing forcing its way through the trees, making that noise that a person may hear from inside their house. That howling sound that we sometimes hear comes from outside; a monster is what that sounds like, or like someone is trying to play a prank at us and is trying to scare us with this howl, sometimes I think that if I were to go into that specific howling wind, that I would feel something more. But this is none of those things, and I can’t say if what flies through the air is too, but I wouldn’t doubt that it is, because it’s creepy, and its intentions are unknown. What could it possibly want? Does any good come out from something like it? Or is it just trying to have fun, and if so, what kind of fun?

This thing flew through the wind as if it was its vessel. It moved faster through it, but could move without it. It knew no barriers, no stops, no limits. It flew through the sky, maybe a few hundred of feet above ground. It could fly even higher and lower, but this was it’s desired height mainly because of the view. A plane flies thousands of feet higher and all you can see is the shape of a city or a state, but you can’t even see a specific house from that high. This thing wanted to find people, it loved people for whatever reasons it desired. Today he was flying through one of his favorite neighborhoods, Tarrington Homes. A place with no criminal history where somewhat wealthy people lived. The place was a harmony for families with wonderful neighbors that ask you to come anytime for a drink every time they see you.

This thing flew lower, and reduced its speed and height. This was its favorite type of day. Cloudy, a little dark, windy and chilly, a nice stay-at-home type of day, just nice because a perfect one would definitely be a rainy day. This thing did not like the rain so much, it gave its location away under specific circumstances. It liked to be stealthy unless it knew it got them, or he, or she, or us, then it would really have a blast.

It arrived at a house, its picks were limited. It could not open doors or have any type of physical contact, unless… It stood outside the door, behind a kid about 9 or 10, it moved its arm forward as to ring the doorbell and the kid followed and ringed it himself. Good Boy It thought. The door quickly opened as if he was being expected and another kid the same age was behind the door. “Josh, you bring the game?” the kid in the house asked. “Yes, hurry.” the kid outside said as he went in himself. He reached inside his aeropostal jacket and took the game out. Call of Duty modern warfare 3 was the game, of course. The kid that opened the door smiled and took the game. The game had just been released and it was already successful; and in this moment of awe, the flying, unknown, unwelcome force also walked in the house.

The kids rushed upstairs into one of the rooms to play their new game. their little feet stomping fast on the stairs making a louder noise than if an adult was walking up them. It looked around for a bit on the first floor, for any other people it might have the pleasure of meeting. There was no one there but the kids. It looked at a few pictures, mother, father, a young adult, a kid, a baby and a dog. Too bad the others aren’t here, well maybe the dog. It went upstairs with slow steps, making sure it wasn’t heard, as if. It wouldn’t be heard with all that shooting and grenades exploding all over the room. It went upstairs and saw the door open, immediately it went for the opening and went into the kids room. A blue room, a small bed and a 32 inch flat screen tv, playing an xbox360 the kids sat on the edge of the bed hypnotized by the gun moving on the screen. “He’s in that corner in that building!” one kid yelled. “Ill get him!” said the other, kids working together to achieve a bigger purpose, one of those things that makes us the superior race. I hope you don’t mind if i sit here, it thought as it sat down in between them. It looked to its left and saw the kid there, with ears a little to big for his head, he was still, only his eyes moving fast like a robot eyes would move if a robot were to have eyes. Eye movement is one of the most interesting features of a human, when you really stare down at a person’s eye it seems like the movements are specifically controlled, their movement is not smooth like other features but it’s fast and exact. It was amazed by this and turned to the right to inspect the other kid. This other kid had a litte more movement than the other and seemed a little less robotic.

It opened its arms as if to hug them both… beep beep beep beep beep beep and a grenade exploded in the game as it rested its hands on their outer shoulders, the kids briskly jumped away and looked at each other puzzled. “Stupid, you got me killed!”  one kid yelled. “You shouldn’t have been touching my shoulder you dummy!” the other one yelled back. “I didn’t you dummy! I was trying to get the bomb!” the kids yelled, back and forth. “Stop yelling or I’m shutting that game off!” Someone else yelled from another room down the hallway, a deeper male voice, someone much older. It opened the windows and flew right out of them, breaking them from their hatches and they fell down on the grass outside breaking the glass. A 50 or so year old woman was startled by the sound and hugged her car as if to get protection from the windows. The kids scared yelled and went behind the bed. “What the hell is going on in there!?” the older voice asked as he ran down the hallway to the kids room and opened the door to find an empty space on the wall that was there in place of the windows. The chilly air went in the room.

It flew away fast. Stupid man, how dare you interrupt me? Oh you really were a quiet, what the hell were you doing so quiet in your room? but don’t worry, I’ll be back for you, I’ll get you and I’m going to have some fun with you, I could’ve ended it then but I’m not, because I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER. It flew around the neighborhood, looking down at the broken window and the older woman, then around the other houses to see if there were any opportunities around. There it was, a woman taking out a bag of trash. Then it caugh a fast wind, and rode through it, its vessel, and there was that howling sound again, and there it was faster than the usual speed and flew straight through the door, so fast that it closed it, but not locked it of course, because it wanted the woman to come back…