I've been writing a Fantasy novel yet to be named for over 4 years now. This story, The characters, they are my heart. I've grown quite attatched to them as I've Created them. This is thier Story:
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hir·aeth
/‘hir,āeth/
noun a homesickness for a home you can not return to or a home that never was.
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The Thinking Tree (viii)
©sydburon - January ‘18
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Just at that moment, every emotion that crippled Jamison’s thoughts released. The sudden stillness of his mind matched the stillness of Bryn’s body, limp on the bloodstained floor. Heavy pants escaped him and he forced himself to search Bryn’s eyes; they were vacant, glossy, staring straight through him. Excerpt from Chapter 8 pt 3
#styles#dylan o'brien gifs#blood#death#bloodsplattee#murder#creative writing#writers block#writer#writing#writing insp#fantasy book#fantasy
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Chapter Ten: Control Your Demons Part 3
Dr. Ben Thomas paced the halls of Warm Springs community church. Impatiently, He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and swept some disheveled hair back from itching at his eyes.
Currently, he was struggling the inner battle of an Angel’s compulsion. His mind, his heart, knew where he needed to be, but his body would not act on his own violation. Dr. Thomas was stuck pacing the hall, leaving the Angel with the privacy he so admittedly demanded. Dr. Thomas’s eyes were trained on the door where Bryn lay, unconscious and defenseless amidst an unpredictable newborn. The only solace that Dr. Thomas found was when Jamison entered the room with a hefty kick at the door.
‘You should have guarded your mind, Ben.’ Dr. Thomas reminded himself.
He had been through extensive training at the Academy of Conduits, the top of his class. How had he allowed a newborn Angel into his head, and to compel him none the less? Better yet, how in the hell was it possible that a newborn Angel sat in the guest room of the Church? Dr. Thomas’s weary eyes finally left the door as he wrapped his hands around his face.
Clip. Clip. Clip.
Dr. Thomas snapped upward to find the sound emitting from the Angel himself, rushing out of the guest room and through the church doors.
For a reason unknown to Dr. Thomas, the compulsion released like a loud pop deep inside of his ears. He didn’t hesitate at the oddly timed opportunity, not even to ponder on what could have caused the Angel’s compulsion to release so abruptly. Dr. Thomas leaped to pester Kyle once more, figuring that such a fresh Angel might not have mastered the ability to compel like many of the others.
“Kyle!” Dr. Thomas called.
Dr. Thomas’ legs moved quickly to keep up with Kyle’s long stride.
“Kyle wait,” Dr. Thomas huffed, following the towering Angel through the stained glass entryway and into the lot out front of the church.
Kyle spun to face him. Though his height was one of the most noticeable features about him, Dr. Thomas hadn’t realized just how large Kyle was until now. His neck craned downward, hovering hotly over Dr. Thomas.
“I thought that I said,” Kyle began, and his pupils dilated. “To leave me alone.”
Pupil Dilation. Dr. Thomas recognized the tactic immediately. Angel’s -or vampire’s- pupils fluctuated during compulsions, covering their eyes whole. As Kyle’s eyes flashed black, Dr. Thomas prepared himself. Having deflected so compulsions in his time, he barely noticed the gentle pat on his mind. Kyle turned again, crossing the gravel turn about, but Dr. Thomas wasn’t easily deterred.
“Don’t think that you have the ability to compel just anyone!” Dr. Thomas said irritably. “You caught me off guard last time, but I can guarantee that it won’t happen again, not to a conduit.”
Kyle twisted on his feet. This time, it wasn’t just his facial features that exuded irritation. Kyle let out an agitated sound that Dr. Thomas could only describe as a growl. Then, whatever wall he built became brittle, crumbling away as unpredictably as the angel’s mood. His shoulders dropped in a defeated, yet still defensive fashion.
“Look, Dr. Thomas, I’m not trying to compel just anyone.” He threw a hand into his golden hair, gripping it tightly. “It just- It seems to happen when I want to get my way. I can’t control it.”
“What do you mean you can’t-” Dr. Thomas trailed off. “When was the last time you fed?”
“I had an Apple this morning,” Kyle answered, irritation still clear on his face. “I don’t see what that has to do with any-.”
“Fed, not ate.” Dr. Thomas corrected.
When Kyle hesitated, Dr. Thomas touched his temples with a sigh. No wonder Kyle couldn’t control himself or his abilities.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t fed Kyle because that could quite possibly be the most reckless thing you could have done in there: Compelling me to leave you alone in a room with another being when you have not fed since your turn.”
“I didn’t realize I was compelling you at the time. I just- and-” Kyle fumbled, gravel settling deep in his voice as his thought switched focus. “I wouldn’t have hurt her!“
Dr. Thomas reached for Kyle, jerking him at the elbow. “You need to Follow me.”
To his relief, Kyle followed willingly, but not with out explaining to Dr. Thomas that he had in fact fed off of some jars of blood that another conduit, Danae, (whom Dr. Thomas had met through Nella Rose) had pleaded with him to consume. But Kyle didn’t like the cold, flat flavor of the canned blood.
Since Kyle had claimed Bryn, this fact didn’t surprise Dr. Thomas at all. Most Vampires, Dr. Thomas recalled, prefer to drink from the mates they have claimed. That blood is more invigorating to them, strengthening. He assumed that the same stipulation applied to Angels.
Dr. Thomas led Kyle to a bare path among the trees, recognizing the familiar warped evergreen that marked where the destination hung left from the path. His eyes scanned the area for a towering boulder. Chief had installed a chamber below the ground for adolescent Werewolves a few years ago, and Dr. Thomas hoped to make use out of it.
He saw the large rock now. It was no ordinary rock. This landmark was a solid hillside of stone. It was smooth, rounded out, and soaring many feet above both of their heads. The only falter in its epic presence was a cruel and jagged crack down the center of the stone. The crack traveled downward, leaving a dark, mysterious opening before them, only slightly hidden by the gang of pine trees that sprouted between the two men and this massive rock.
“You may not feel it,” Dr. Thomas swallowed, turning his back on the rock and facing Kyle. “but you are hungry. It’s obvious. The irritability, the incapability to control your emotions, your affinities, the fact that every bout of anger you have fought to control has happened around the stench of fresh blood?”
Kyle didn’t answer, but then slowly, he ran his fingers through his hair.
“You’re a ticking time bomb.”
“I get it,” Kyle said through clenched teeth. A visible shudder ran through His body. For the first time, he looked as though he actually recognized his hunger.
Dr. Thomas pivoted to face the rock again. He weaved throughout the pines until he reached the stone crevice, hoping that Kyle would follow him. Wordlessly, the towering Angel did just that. His footsteps echoed into the cavern along with Dr. Thomas’s. It took only a moment for Dr. Thomas’s eyes to adjust to the cool tones of the cave.
“Chief and I had this installed for the local wolves.” Dr. Thomas explained as he searched the cave, looking for a trap door sealed into the rock floor.
He stomped loudly at the ground until his foot let out a hollow sound. He knelt and brushed away the dirt that littered over the hidden slab of concrete, searching for a handle. Somewhere- There it is.
His fingers wrapped around the dirty metal latch. It creaked eerily as he removed the latch from its resting place. The chamber was just below here if only Dr. Thomas had the strength to slide the slab aside.
“A little help?” He asked Kyle, who was uncomfortably crouched within the confines of the cave.
The heavy material was no match for Kyle. He moved the slab aside and Dr. Thomas took a long look down into the opening. A ] metal ladder tumbled into the darkness. Kyle went first, somewhat hesitantly.
“There should be a power switch on the right when you get to the bottom.” Dr. Thomas hollered into the vast opening below.
There was some fumbling before the hum of electricity broke the silence, then a flash of light. Dr. Thomas positioned himself onto the ladder and hurried down.
“This is where you keep them when they turn.” Kyle’s low voice rumbled sadly as Dr. Thomas brushed the soot from his knees. “Isn’t it?”
He looked up to find Kyle tracing a large pattern of scratches down the length of the wall with his fingers. Dr. Thomas had to think of what it might be like to someone who had never been here before. Old stains of blood and claw marks decorated the walls. Several chains adorned with silver cuffs sprouted from the ground. Across the way, a set of bars guarded Dr. Thomas’s old workstation.
Before he’d branched out, he worked strictly with shifters. He used the station for repairing wolves after their change, aiding their pain with sedatives and housing supplies used to redirect bone alignment. But from Kyle’s point of view, he was sure that his workstation looked like some sort of torture chamber.
“They come here by choice.” Dr. Thomas said.
Dr. Thomas observed Kyle for what felt like the umpteenth time, still bewildered by the fact that Kyle was an Angel; An Angel aside from the fall.
When Jamison told Dr. Thomas of Kyle, Dr. Thomas had not believed him. This Angel, Kyle, must have devised some elaborate background, created a human persona and somehow fooled Jamison and all of his friends. After all, how coincidental that a splice of Bryn’s nature, a splice so paralleled to Lucifer’s prophecy, was claimed by an Angel?
But when Kyle entered the church, all of the conspiracies that Dr. Thomas had dreamed up evaporated. Kyle was no Fallen Angel. Jamison was right. This young man was once a human, who claimed Bryn in a moment of passion, a move common in newborn vampires. He loved her. The way he loved her was so intense that Dr. Thomas found it painful. It was obvious this man was earnest, naive to the shadow world, naive to his new body, and he needed help.
“You work inline with werewolves?” Kyle breathed into the silence, his voice bounced off the walls.
“Not me, per say, the Reservation.” Dr. Thomas said vacantly.
His mind was still elsewhere, running over all the reasons he and Danae were justified in concealing Kyle’s identity from the Board. BOCSA couldn’t know. No one could, lest the Fallen found out about Kyle’s existence. Dr. Thomas shuddered at the thought of what other Angels, Angels from the Fall might do to Kyle if they caught wind of a new Angel. There would be an uproar, chaos. Kyle would never stand a chance.
"A bit barbaric, don’t you think?“
"There is something that you should know about Shadow People.” Dr. Thomas said, inclined to guide Kyle. First thing was first. Kyle needed to feed. “And I will use wolves as an example: A Werewolf is not just one being. There are two entities in this being. The person, and the wolf. The same is true for every other shadow race.”
Kyle wasn’t scouting the chamber anymore. He was still, concentrating. It was clear by the way his brows pushed together, forming a dominant crease between them.
“Depending on the race, this second entity can be feral, aggressive, spiritual, possessive, all sorts of things. The wolves and shifters call it their animal, conduits, and witches call it their spirit, and Angels and vampires have been known to refer to this personality as their demon. No matter the moniker, it is our core.”
Kyle’s eyes widened at the word demon like he had already experienced the uncontrollable instinct to possess, consume, dominate.
“When a werewolf is not in tune with his animal when he does not nourish it physically and emotionally, their animal will take control. So, to answer your question, no, this is not barbaric. A new wolf who has yet to coincide with their animal, willingly chains themselves to these floors in a time of need, to protect themselves and those around them when their animal surfaces.”
Dr. Thomas made his way across the vast underground chamber to three thickly bound chains that sprouted from the floor. One for the neck when in wolf form, and two for the wrists. Kyle crossed through the brightly lit chamber to Dr. Thomas. The absence of words allowed his footsteps to echo across the industrialized hum of electricity.
“You want me to lock myself up in that in order to protect the others from my Demon?”
“You have the capability of being very dangerous. It’s only a matter of time. I only want you here, safe, until you feed.”
“And you are going to help me with that?”
“As soon as you comply.” Dr. Thomas gestured to the chains on the floor.
The Angel didn’t acknowledge him yet, but he turned to sit between the chains, resting his back against the mangled stone behind him. He held both of his palms face up, offering them to Dr. Thomas. With a long exhale, the Angel rested the back of his head against the stone. Dr. Thomas didn’t waste time, he quickly clasped the cuffs. Then lifted the heavy metal around Kyle’s throat.
“I’ll be back to help you.” He said.
He couldn’t help but notice Kyle’s urge to soothe himself. The Angel swallowed. With another deep breath, he closed his eyes and nodded before leaning his head back into the stone again.
“If you’re lying,” Kyle breathed before opening his eyes. ”If you leave me here and if anything happens to Bryn, I will find you.”
As if it could solidify that Dr. Thomas was really coming back for Kyle, he agreed.
“She will be safe, and I will be back with blood. I promise.”
Chapter 10: Control your Demons: Part 1 and Part 2
#prison#cellar#basement#chamber#dungeon#werewolves#werewolf#werewolf den#lycanthrope#lichen#werepeople#fae#fairy#fantasy#vampire#angel#write#writing#writer#guilty pleasure#read#reading#tumblr story#tumblr book#writing prompt#writersblock#writers roleplay#bill skarsgard#imagination#creative wrting
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Excerpt from: Chapter Ten: Control Your Demons (Part 2)
“My ears?” A rock formed in her stomach as she pushed thick waves of chocolate hair away from her face. Her fingers hinged awkwardly on a sharp point that formed toward the top of her ear.
“Weird,” Jamison said beneath a breath. His face was scrunched in a puzzled manner as he leaned in, observing her. “They’re short.”
“Short?” Bryn panicked. Her fingers traced the folds of her ear anxiously. “Is that bad? Do they look bad?”
“They look fine.” He leaned back.
Bryn dropped her hand from her ear. She paced a gaze around the room, searching for a mirror. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one.
#elf#fae#fairy#faery#folklore#fantasy#fiction#elf ears#pointed ears#magic#magical#write#writer#writing#prompt#wrting inspo#excerpt from a book I'll never write#tumblr story#tumblr book#fae ear#fairy ear#pointed ear#elf ear
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