Alexis awoke with a start. Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she reached out and hit the sleep button. "Just a few more minutes," she thought. "I'm so tired." Sighing, she relaxed. Life was so hectic lately. With the courses at uni, and Violet's depression, Alexis hardly got any time for herself. At least Violet was getting better. And Zeke was certainly helping. He was so cheerful, just being around him could make anyone feel better.
Sighing again, Alexis flung off the covers and swung her legs out of bed. Grabbing a top, she pulled it on and headed toward the bathroom. "I look terrible," she complained to no one in particular. The late nights certainly weren't helping. Her long brown hair was a mess of knots and split ends. The bags under her brown eyes were too visible for her liking. She grabbed a brush and started to tame her hair.
Footsteps rang through the flat. "One of the others must be up," thought Alexis. Splashing water on her face, she wandered in the general direction of the kitchen.
"Well, you look great," said a smooth voice.
"Why, thank you, Zeke. I try," Alexis replied. Zeke was one of Alexis' closest friends, the cheerful one of the group. Three years older than Alexis, Zeke had taken a few gap years between school and uni to pursue. . . other intrests. His black hair and dark green eyes never failed to attract attention, even though that combination wasn't exactly rare. Perhaps it was his height, or unusual choice of clothing. Zeke chose to dress in casual suits, wherever he went. "And you're not looking hungover at all."
"Yeah, rough night. Beyond The Shadow had a gig. And of course, then there was the afterparty," Zeke explained. Beyond The Shadow was Zeke's post-punk band. He played rhythm guitar. He was damn good too, although Alexis would never admit that to his face. His ego was swollen enough already. "Coffee?" Zeke offered.
"Yes, please," a soft voice spoke from behind Alexis.
"Morning, Violet," Alexis greeted her closest mate.
"Good morning, Alexis," Violet replied. She certainly was an oddity; that was why Alexis liked her so much. Her dark blue eyes stood out amongst her long, black hair. She was rather short, and didn't like people pointing it out. She had been just got through a real rough patch. Both Zeke and Alexis had spent a lot of time helping her through it. Alexis suspected that she was better now mainly dude to a certain plant Zeke had introduced her to, but Alexis didn't mind. As long as Violet was okay.
"So, what are we all up to today?" Zeke asked.
"I'm heading into uni for a coupla lectures, then into town," Violet answered. "What about you, Alexis?"
"I don't have any lectures today. I'll probably just hang around here. Get some writing done," Alexis replied. "A quiet day will do me good," she thought to herself.
"Well, I've got band practise at Tim's, then I'm out and about in town. You should join me for lunch, Alexis. You too, Violet, if you can make it," Zeke offered.
"I'll see what I can do," said Violet.
"Yeah, same," Alexis wasn't sure if she wanted to go out. She hadn't written anything in a while, and she missed it. There was nothing like seeing a good psychological horror unfold as her pen moved across the page.
"Alrighty then. Well, I'd better get ready," said Zeke, leaving the room.
"Now, breakfast!" exclaimed Violet.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Chapter Two - The Sialon Chronicles
Once the others had gone, Alexis got out her journal full of her writing, and read over the last few pieces of work. They were good; her stories even creeped herself out occasionally. She had a few story ideas she wanted to try out, and was absorbed into her work quickly.
An hour later, she emerged. She could've sworn she had heard footsteps. The flat was out in the suburbs, and was one storey. There was no one else home. Perhaps it was paranoia. This happened occasionally while she was writing. She went back to it, but couldn't shake the feeling of someone else being there, watching her. She kept looking up, and glancing about the room. She could have sworn something was there.
There it was again, that flash of movement in her peripherals. She would have said it was her hair, except it happened when she was completely still. Glancing about nervously, Alexis scanned the room. She froze. There, in the doorway, was a dark, black figure. Almost like a shadow, except completely solid. Alexis blinked, slowly.
Suddenly, the shadow ran off. The sound it made as it moved was horrendous. The loudest footsteps she'd ever heard. Nothing that small could make that kind of noise. Grabbing her pocket knife off the table, she flicked it open, and stalked out of the room. "Why am I doing this?" she wondered. Slowly, she checked all the rooms. No sign of. . . whatever it was. Heading back to her room, she grabbed her bag, chucked her journal, hip flask, and money in, and headed out the door. Perhaps a quiet day wouldn't help. She'd go to lunch with Zeke after all.
An hour later, she emerged. She could've sworn she had heard footsteps. The flat was out in the suburbs, and was one storey. There was no one else home. Perhaps it was paranoia. This happened occasionally while she was writing. She went back to it, but couldn't shake the feeling of someone else being there, watching her. She kept looking up, and glancing about the room. She could have sworn something was there.
There it was again, that flash of movement in her peripherals. She would have said it was her hair, except it happened when she was completely still. Glancing about nervously, Alexis scanned the room. She froze. There, in the doorway, was a dark, black figure. Almost like a shadow, except completely solid. Alexis blinked, slowly.
Suddenly, the shadow ran off. The sound it made as it moved was horrendous. The loudest footsteps she'd ever heard. Nothing that small could make that kind of noise. Grabbing her pocket knife off the table, she flicked it open, and stalked out of the room. "Why am I doing this?" she wondered. Slowly, she checked all the rooms. No sign of. . . whatever it was. Heading back to her room, she grabbed her bag, chucked her journal, hip flask, and money in, and headed out the door. Perhaps a quiet day wouldn't help. She'd go to lunch with Zeke after all.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Prologue (part 2) - The Sialon Chronicles
You twirl around trying to find an escape. The creature screams again, an ear-piercing shriek that sends an icy chill to your very bones. As you spin around, you see that you and the creature are completely alone. The plateau that surrounds you is completely flat. There are dark mountains on the horizon. There's no shelter from the cold wind, and certainly no escape.
Turning to face the thing that brought you here, you shout raggedly, "What do you want?! Why'd you bring me here?" The thing silences it's screech. Facing you, it grins menacingly. It's teeth are sickenly pointed, as if filed down painstakingly on bone. The voice that escapes from it's mouth, however, is the polar opposite. Smooth, soft, and cooling.
"Why, don't you remember me? Not as strong this time, are we?"
"This time? What are you?"
"WHO am I? You should know, we've met before. Not in this lifetime of yours, but many, many times before. I've had such fun with you over the years."
"What are you on about? Let me go!" you shriek.
"No. Why would I do such a thing? You are mine. Have been for the last few centuries, and you will be for the rest of eternity." the creature sends a chill over you as it speaks.
"What the FUCK?! Let me GO! Please!" you beg, shaking.
"Beg all you want, you're mine, there's nothing you can do to change that. Get used to it, it's not the first time it's happened." it explains, impatiently. Frantic, you search for something to use as a weapon, even though you know fighting this thing is pointless. The creature starts pacing slowly towards you. Your hand falls on a ragged, cold rock. The being is getting close. Only a few metres away now.
Postioning the rock against the ground, you whisper, "Goodbye, Sialon." Ramming your head towards the ground, Sialon shrieks again. Your head bashes into the rock, and your skull shatters. The rock goes through your skull, between your eyes, and pulverises your brain.
"He remembered. . ." Sialon whispered.
"Until next time. . ."
Turning to face the thing that brought you here, you shout raggedly, "What do you want?! Why'd you bring me here?" The thing silences it's screech. Facing you, it grins menacingly. It's teeth are sickenly pointed, as if filed down painstakingly on bone. The voice that escapes from it's mouth, however, is the polar opposite. Smooth, soft, and cooling.
"Why, don't you remember me? Not as strong this time, are we?"
"This time? What are you?"
"WHO am I? You should know, we've met before. Not in this lifetime of yours, but many, many times before. I've had such fun with you over the years."
"What are you on about? Let me go!" you shriek.
"No. Why would I do such a thing? You are mine. Have been for the last few centuries, and you will be for the rest of eternity." the creature sends a chill over you as it speaks.
"What the FUCK?! Let me GO! Please!" you beg, shaking.
"Beg all you want, you're mine, there's nothing you can do to change that. Get used to it, it's not the first time it's happened." it explains, impatiently. Frantic, you search for something to use as a weapon, even though you know fighting this thing is pointless. The creature starts pacing slowly towards you. Your hand falls on a ragged, cold rock. The being is getting close. Only a few metres away now.
Postioning the rock against the ground, you whisper, "Goodbye, Sialon." Ramming your head towards the ground, Sialon shrieks again. Your head bashes into the rock, and your skull shatters. The rock goes through your skull, between your eyes, and pulverises your brain.
"He remembered. . ." Sialon whispered.
"Until next time. . ."
Prologue (part 1) - The Sialon Chronicles
There it is again. That flash of movement, in your peripherals. Tonight's not the first time you've noticed it. But it is the first time it's happened at night. You know that, if you turn around, you'll be able to see it. For this isn't like the tales of 'Shadow People'. This doesn't disappear when you look directly at it. And it's certainly not a shadow. Shadows don't move of their own volition. And shadows definitely don't run through your house, making loud footsteps right outside your door. Shadows can't move objects. Whatever it is, it's not going to go away. It won't move until you turn around. Slowly, you turn your head, preparing yourself for what you might see. All the other times, it's been a solid, dark figure, standing, staring. But that was during the day. Now, it's past 2am. There's no one else in the house. You keep turning.
Weird, there's nothing there. It was in the corner of the lounge, but now, it's not. It always makes an unmissable, nightmarish noise when it runs off. Chillingly, you realise it must still be here. Thoroughly paranoid now, you spin back around.
A screeching bursts from the thing's face, which is inches from your own. A blank palette, with just a mouth and eyes. Cold, empty, black eyes. It's breath is cold, strangly, icily cold. And it stinks. The stench is literally breathtaking. You can't breathe. The chill spreads from your face down your spine.
Then, the screeching stops. You can breathe again. Taking a gasp of not-so-fresh air, you glance at the nightmare in front of you. One thing's for sure, you're not in your lounge anymore.
The creature is now 10 or so metres in front of you, glaring. It's ragged robe flutters around it's pale, cold ankles. It seems to emit cold. And it's arms, oh, it's freakish, unatural arms. The skin, if you could call it that, seems to be covering the bone itself. The small amount of flesh that is visible is hanging off by a rotting thread.
The terrain this horror is standing on matches it well. An icy, ragged, rocky landscape. Blue, pale blue and grey everywhere. The very sky seems to be protesting your presence. Dark, black clouds are gathering above you. The howling wind whirls between you and the creature of your dreams.
Weird, there's nothing there. It was in the corner of the lounge, but now, it's not. It always makes an unmissable, nightmarish noise when it runs off. Chillingly, you realise it must still be here. Thoroughly paranoid now, you spin back around.
A screeching bursts from the thing's face, which is inches from your own. A blank palette, with just a mouth and eyes. Cold, empty, black eyes. It's breath is cold, strangly, icily cold. And it stinks. The stench is literally breathtaking. You can't breathe. The chill spreads from your face down your spine.
Then, the screeching stops. You can breathe again. Taking a gasp of not-so-fresh air, you glance at the nightmare in front of you. One thing's for sure, you're not in your lounge anymore.
The creature is now 10 or so metres in front of you, glaring. It's ragged robe flutters around it's pale, cold ankles. It seems to emit cold. And it's arms, oh, it's freakish, unatural arms. The skin, if you could call it that, seems to be covering the bone itself. The small amount of flesh that is visible is hanging off by a rotting thread.
The terrain this horror is standing on matches it well. An icy, ragged, rocky landscape. Blue, pale blue and grey everywhere. The very sky seems to be protesting your presence. Dark, black clouds are gathering above you. The howling wind whirls between you and the creature of your dreams.
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