Now, this may be a bit like the short story contest, except it's not really a contest, so no pressure there. Of course, I suppose that lowers the amount of people who will want to join...
Whatever the case, this will be just like writing short little, oo, exercises, I suppose. No set word length, one or two paragraphs will do, but if you can make it long, great!
If you write a segment, I or someone else may critique your work, if you so want, but if you don't want to be critiqued, just say the word.
All of the rules of the Art, Music, Writing section apply; that means NO sex, NO excessive cursing, and NO excessively disturbing scenes.
There will be a theme every so often, so try to keep the piece pertaining to that theme.
This time, the theme is: Write a death scene. You know the type, an important or beloved character is on his deathbed, or laying on the ground mortally wounded, and another main character is talking to him, or the dying character is fighting with himself to stay alive, that sort of stuff.
Knowing the amount of writers we have on AG, I don't see this being too active, but you know.
Carrion was in his prime, cutting down all before him. Every soul who approached him was cut down before his eyes, not a one surviving. Slash, parry, slash, his blade slicing through the air and clanging as it struck the armor of the enemy. All around him, dozens of combatants lay dead or dying, cut down by his blade. Of course, nothing lasts forever, and as he was advancing on several spear men, a stray javelin from his own ranks crashed into his back, knocking the wind out of him and slamming him into the ground with a resounding thud. He looked to his side, feeling horrible, unimaginable pain as the javelin stuck out. He felt the blood flowing out, cascading onto the ground. Around him he saw and felt the warm, crimson liquid pool around him. He knew he was done, but was still fighting to stay alive. His troops got there, and pulled the short throwing spear out of him, and rolled him over. Looking up at the sky, he noticed something he had never paid attention to: The weather. He had never realized that it was a nice day out. Not humid, 70 degrees, slightly overcast. He looked into the sky as his eyes began seeing spots, and he began fading out. One of his soldiers called to him, and his only words were: "Nice day to die, isn't it?" and he slipped into deaths cold embrace.
Very good, both of you, Parsat and Orion. I think I'll write my own now, haha.
"Crunch. Crunch. Crunch." The snow crunched under the young couple's feet, rhythmically, loudly. It had been almost 3 days with no food but a pair of chocolate bars.. They were miles from the wreckage of their plane, a scorched mess of twisted metal. They were in that classic scenario of the only survivors after a terrible plane wreck in a barren snowfield. The pilot and the other 2 passengers didn't make it. Thomas heard the snow crunching behind him... but this was different. More sickening. More distressing. "Isabel! Don't lie down! You can't! Town is just a few more miles... Please!" "But I'm so tired... so cold..." "Isabel, If you fall asleep, you... you won't wake up!" "I'm so tired... so... so tired Thomas..." "Get up!" "Hey... d-do you feel that? It's... i-it's getting warmer..." Thomas knew what that meant. She was freezing to death before his eyes. "Izzy, stand up! Now! You're... you're dying..." "We can spare a few hours... to catch some sleep..." she closed her eyes. "Goodnight... Thomas... I'll see you later." His heart broke. "Izzy?" He called. "Izzy, please... wake up..." Thomas gave her a gentle shake. "Wake up! You... you can't leave me... Not like this." Thomas rested his head on her body. "Good night, Isabel."
Awesome story Manta, very deep although its seems like something out of a cliche romance novel.
Fire raged all around me, it seemed as if the world its self was aflame. I could hear screams, distantly I realized they were my own. Soon the burning pain developed into a cool sensation as I collapsed into Death's embrace.
Six young men on the gallows stood six young pirates they be Six young lives were lost that day, lost to old Davey And as the hangman's noose slips o'er their necks, Last words will they cry, As the lever is pulled sending men to their doom, They'll all sing their chant with pride
"Yo ho, haul together, hoist the Colors high, Heave ho, thieves and beggars, Never say we die"
Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock The Sound of my beating heart in sync with the clock Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock Cold Floors steal away warmth from my hands Tick Tock Tick Tock Humming Sounds of the machines pulse into my ears Tick Tock Tick Tock Morning Light pierces threw the cracks in the windows blinds Tick Tock Sweat Purges its self from my face drenching it in wet solitude Tick Tock Chest feels Heavy and Muscles Numb Tick Tock Slams fist against the Nurse call Button Door creaks open while vision fades Tick...
I was bored and couldn't think of anything better then Tick Tock...lol
I refused the blind-fold, gentlemen die facing death bravely. The colonel's face seemed to sag; his mournful eyes staring straight at me. I stood back facing a huge stonewall, covered with damp moss and lichen, facing the eight men standing in front of me, facing death to the end.
'Rifle at the ready!' The colonel screamed, his eyes still looking at me sadly.
My life flashed past my eyes again in a blur, stopping momentarily at certain poignant scenes. A thousand emotions and thoughts churned within me, I felt the high and low, I felt the dark and light, I felt the fire and the cold. I felt the past, I felt the present, I felt the anger, and I felt the joy. I felt the peace, and I felt the war, I felt the musical tempo, I felt the shaky notes, I felt the love and I felt the hate.
'Aim and steady!'
I felt nothing.
I do not regret. I am a patriot, and I die a patriot.
But you are a clown, a foolish man, my demon screamed. Just a bungling dunce. Regret it now. But it's too late for that now clown. I smiled ruefully, almost clown-like; looking forward to my homecoming. Madness...
I saw that slim figure waving at me as the boat pulled out from the harbor. I smelled that last sweet breath, I listened to that last melodic goodbye, and I felt that last smooth touch, I caught that last bitter tear.
'I love you..' I whispered to the heavens.
'On my command good men...Fire!'
Dead and bleeding from eight perfect holes before I reached the ground; a foolish broken-hearted clown to the last. The world fades as the ground rushes...just that waving tearing figure in my mind as my heart froze in its final beat...
It's not mine, it's his, I just reeeeeally wanted to post it, and yes I got permission. Though I didn't get permission to uncensor the speech that was originally censored x]
As far as I know that is from World's End or at least incredibly close to it.
Mhm, the actual words are:
Yo, ho, haul together, hoist the colors high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die.
