Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Let's write a... The apprentice

Eh, that's actually the last verse of "Hoist the Sails" :P

It was in the beginning of At Worlds End, though that's not really where my inspiration came from.

Oh, and shall is only in the first verse. It is say in all the rest.

This reminds me of LadyTurtleToes' writing exercise thread thingy a little bit.
Anyway, sounds fun. Imma do it!

Carl Marton whistled as he strolled down the street. The normally cynical young man was in a particularly good mood today. In fact, had you seen him, you would not have recognized him as the sarcastic, pessimistic man who stubbornly clung to the belief that he would die before reaching the age of 25(for Carl's constant prediction to come true, he would have to bite the dust within the next two years) that he had been just a few months prior. For today was a special day for the boy; earlier that day, he had exited Robertson's Jewelry, his wallet considerably lighter and his heart lighter still. Clutched in his right hand was a very special, small velvet box. This day, Carl was thinking of his beloved, not of impending death and doom(he really was pessimistic). How he had managed to get the girl, he never would know. Joy fit her name perfectly. She may not be the prettiest girl in town, Carl thought, shrugging, but she had brought Joy to his life where none had been before, and for that he could never repay her. The many hours she had spent with Carl, well, the expensive ring was small compensation. Reflecting, and deciding that his life wasn't so bad after all, Carl continued on his merry way down the sreet, whistling all the while.
And one month later, there was the wedding, of course. It was a strange wedding. Everyone was sobbing(although, if you have an emotional family, this is not strange). Everything was black instead of white(the decorating had been done by Carl's relatives, who were much like he had been prior). The minister spoke.
"The separation of one shall be the unity of another. And as one change is made, so another is broken. Nothing is without a cause, for everything is done by the will of the Lord. And though one may be taken away from us, another still, shall be given to us. Let memories not be forgotten, yet let us not linger upon them. Let the pain be washed away be the cleanliness of love. May a unity in this world last beyond the next, and the next, so that we may be separated in body, but not in heart. As Ezekiel* claims one life, so may Hadraniel** claim another. Amen."
"Amen," echoed the audience.
And then the normal wedding vows...
"I, Carl Marton, take you, Joy Samson, to be my lawfully wedded wife. My constant friend, my faithful partner and my only true love from this day forth. In the presence of God, our families and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner, in sickness and in healthin good times and bad, and in joy as well as sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you as long as we both shall live." Tears began streaming unbidden down his face, splashing onto his tuxedo.
Then the bride spoke, the same words.
"I, Joy Samson, take you, Carl Marton, to be my lawfully wedded husband. My constant friend, my faithful partner and my only true love from this day forth. In the presence of God, our families and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner, in sickness and in healthin good times and bad, and in joy as well as sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you as long as we both shall live."
The audience began to scream. Many elderly grandmothers and aunts of broad girth and weak disposition(you know the kind) began to faint on the spot. The men gripped their chairs. The young children squealed with excitement; what was this new development that made Auntie Margie so frightened? It did the trick far more efficiently than any rubber spider they had ever concealed in her purse, no matter the size, and they wanted the secret.
Only the groom stood unafraid, or even unsurprised. He even smiled.
For Joy Samson had been dead for a month...

*swears*
Dangit, stupid trackpad. I submitted too early by accident! The story's not finished!
*scowls*
*sigh*
It does feel completed though...hmm...
Idea! What if I did it in chapters? That sounds good. Anyway, what do you people think?
I don't normally put romance into my stories, but with Valentine's Day coming up and all, it just felt right.

Wait... So are they at a funeral? Or... Did the guy bring a corpse to his wedding?

*confused*

Ultimate Conclusion: More chapters shall be added.
Since Poison pointed out that there are still unanswered questions.
I'll update right now, since I am in the ZONE.

You already are familiar with the day of Joy's death, for it was one of the only days that Carl Marton was truly elated, or at least, he started that way. You've already read about it. It was the day he bought the ring and was going to propose. She had still been alive, when she said yes.
"Of course!" Joy exclaimed, taking the ring. She smiled. For she had the same idea. She passed a silver ring to Carl. He stared, then slipped in on his left hand. Then they kissed. Afterwards, he left her, to go to work. Soon he would regret this.

Joy walked home. She wanted to get there quickly. She took a shortcut through an alley. Then, there was a rustling sound. She turned around, frightened, and for good reason. She never saw it coming. The bullet flew squarely in between her eyes, and she slumped to the ground, dead. The mugger grabbed her wallet and the ring from her finger, then he ran away.

Afterwards, grief-stricken, Carl had a strange request. He wanted to merge the funeral with the wedding. Although the Samsons thought it was strange and almost morbid, they decided to humor him in his pain, for they believed in the sanctity of marriage and that such loyalty and love reaches beyond all bounds.

After the ceremony, Carl left the area. He pulled the knife out of his suit that he had brought to the service. The tears still flowing down his face, he shut his eyes. If he imagined hard, he could almost see Joy in front of him, but when he opened them, she disappeared, just as his own joy disappeared as well. He nodded.
"We will be together," he murmured. He reversed the knife, aiming it towards himself. Then he drove it up, to his own heart, which had already been destroyed. As the blood poured out from his chest, the knife which brought the end of life slipped from his limp fingers. The scarlet blood ran in rivulets onto the dewy grass. The final act that ended love...shall reverse upon itself, and the wounds upon body shall heal in the next world, as will the wounds upon soul, as death shall never do them part.

Whoa...kay. Deeper than usual. And the ending, about the next world, yada yada yada, that was strange, seeing as how I'm an atheist and all.
Carl's Ghost: Anyways, remember to do recreation!
No, remember to do REC, my new personal motto as an author.
Read.
Enjoy.
Critique.
Later, people!

a cliche romance novel.

Because you're never actually on MSN, Spence!
And Ryan told me that Adam told him that you'd died. But then again, it's Adam, so...

Is it okay to post someone else's story, by the way? Or do I got to make up my own.. Cause if so, I think I've got one buried in the recesses of a very dusty notebook somewhere.

But I'm on MSN right now...

Plus, I'm not on the computer much at all anymore. :/

Ah, yeah, questions. Yeah, do whatever, just give credit to whomsoever made it.

Although I would REALLY like to see stuff straight from you guys.

I thought you would censor the words for erm....obvious reasons.

See if you can beat me. I was the corpse.



It hit his nose like a pepper grenade. The sickeningly sweet smell of decay, the salty air of blood, the cheap tobacco scent that hung around the room. And there in the middle of the room, hanging from the chandeliers, was the carcass. The officer's torch issued a faint beam of light, flickering at the gruesome scene.

In all his four decades with the force, never had he seen such a sight. A strained rope dangled the body like a desperate fish on a hook, suspending the thing in midair. The yellowed eyes bulging in the sockets, the blackish-blue swollen tongue sticking out like a grotesque over bloated slug, the blacked fingers caught in the all too familiar post-mortem grip, the joints bent back as though in he's last final moments he was trying to escape. But no, a definite suicide, the steel door was locked from the inside; took the forces' largest pair of shears to cut the locks chained outside.

The dark hair softly covered the corpse's face, eerily hiding his features, casting shadows under the eyes. Those haunted eyes that still seemed to be alive, as if daring him to make a move. They laughed at him, mocked him, screaming at him.

He shook his head, snapping out of the trance, tearing his gaze from that horrible face, examining the bleeding torso. Half a dozen cruel pocket knifes protruded from the abdomen, their shiny glint from the torch's feeble light making the officer�s eyes blink and tear. That guy sure made a good job of himself, he though disgustedly, as he saw the sickly pale pink bowels peeking from the large slit at his stomach, oozing a yellow pus.

As the officer looked to the ground, he was startled. A dark black chalk circle was drawn under the body, Satanic patterns zigzagging the floor. He shuddered. Thirteen half burnt candles surrounded the circle, the wax hardened and grimy. As he stepped backwards, he noticed something even more awful, something that wanted to make him retch. A half decayed goat's skull lay on the floor, the eyes intact, and the grey molting flesh starting to peel as flies buzzed around it. It seemed to grin at him, sending out a warning. Ah foolish man, alone by himself in this dark night? The ugly and bizarre trophy completed the macabre display.
The officer felt his bravery wane. Always a superstitious one, seeing he came from Santa Domingo. Fuku, Devil's rites, monstrous cults. The stories came flooding back.
Without warning, a viscous liquid started to flow slowly from under a nearby closet. It pulsed, **** thing almost seemed alive. Snap! The carcass crashed to the floor, as the rope finally broke, showering the officer with the disgusting gore, covering him with the dark liquid. The sound of crunching bone reverberated across the empty chamber.

He fled. Fled like he never ran before. Ran like a sprinter into the cold midnight moon as a slow cackle trailed out from the crypt, crying at the skies.

Do you win anything? Or is it just a contest for fun.

I died. The end.

I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won I won!

Right?

NO.

NO.

Cliche, yes, romance, NO. IT WOULD BE AN EPIC THRILLER ABOUT SURVIVAL IN THE WILDERNESS.

This one represents my feelings right now...I think, anyway.
______________________

Chad pounded up the 3 flights of stairs in about 4 seconds. He kept looking down, but all he saw was the lone man, walking slowly up the stairs. He couldn't trust him, either...
As Chad reached the roof of the complex, he heard the oh too familiar roar of helicopter blades. He immediately smelled the gasoline off to his right, and he checked down the stairs one last time. The man was gone, however; a squad of patrolers with at least 10 members he could see were marching up the stairs, and the "Clank clank" of their steel uniforms were in tune with the heartbeat he was feeling in his forehead. He looked around the building, and the side opposite from the helicopter, a building was a few feet across and below. He immediately sprinted over. He flew over the barrier, and rolled onto the other building. He looked back at the helicopter. It hadn't moved, but it was turning his way. He ducked behind a storage container, and checked his surroundings. He saw storage containers, the entrance down into the building, and a skylight. His eyes refocused to see another squad going up stairs. They would be on the roof any second now.
There were no other alternatives. He looked around, and realized his only option: death. His training had taught him take any path but death, but they never instructed him what to do when you knew you would die. He decided he would not let those maggots claim his head. He would let gravity do that.
He peered over the edge, then backed up a few yards. He began running just as the door behind him opened. He jumped off of the barrier, and he was shot several times in mid air. As he plummeted down, his vision became red and fuzzy. Everything slowed down. He was trying to focus on something, trying to look at it. He soon realized he was looking at asphalt. He closed his eyes, and embraced Death.
_____________________
How's that?

Once upon a time there was a 70 year old man he was talking with a 71 year old man the 70 year old touched 71 year old and 71 year old died.70 year old was charged for murder and then touched himself and died.THE END

Oh,sorry the name is The Death Touch or Two Really,Really Old Men.