I’ve been writing all day with only rushed bathroom breaks and a few morsels shoved in to provide sustenance. I have 13 pages written of my short story. My goal was no more than 20 for the entire tale which I believe will be accomplished. I am building my climax now, but found myself in need of a break. I figured I could formulate a quick blog entry and go for a swim. Then back to the keyboard!
Here we go. Moment of truth. I’m including the first 600 words or so of my first short story since college, the first time, you know, when I was college-aged and so forth. Enjoy!
Larry heroically battled the demon casting all the spells in his spell book depleting his mana. Still, the fiery demon fought absorbing Larry’s magic reflecting his spells back at him. Larry’s life faded, but he could not give up. The demon laughed at Larry’s feeble attempts to defeat him.
“I am invincible! No weakling magic user can defeat me,” growled the demon as he towered over Larry. “You could not contain me. To send me back to hell requires more power and intelligence than you will ever gather!”
Larry scrambled backward attempting to get out of agro range. He flipped the pages of his spell book desperately looking for a spell that could slow down the demon for a quick escape. Larry tried to maintain hope but knew he would die. The demon laughed at the human’s despair. With one large bound, the demon jumped over Larry blocking his escape. Heat radiated from the demon’s limbs made of large, fiery tree trunks. The demon’s bulging head of burning coals hovered over the stumbling human. The demon’s flame eyes focused on Larry. The coals of the demon’s head rearranged into what Larry imagined to be the most evil expression the demon could form.
The demon lifted his flaming arms over his head. Larry screamed as the massive limbs crushed his avatar into mush.
“Fuck!” yelled Larry, throwing his controller against the wall. The victorious demon laughed at Larry from his television screen as fire consumed what was left of his avatar.
“How many times are you going to get squished by that demon before you give up?” asked Duane, popping up beside Larry.
“Fuck!” yelled Larry again. “Quit appearing out of nowhere! I hate when you do that!”
“I told you before, Larry. You shouldn’t be messing with Fueron. Game or otherwise. He’s seriously bad news,” a shiver ran down where Duane’s spine should have been.
“That’s enough, Duane. I don’t need to hear your lecture again about the animated demon you’ve decided to dub Fueron,” Larry turned off his Xbox with his toe and threw himself back against his futon.
“I did not ‘dub’ him Fueron. That’s his name.”
“Oh, god, please don’t get started.”
“But, Larry, I’m only looking out for you,” insisted Duane, scratching a phantom itch on his head. “What are best friends for?”
Larry sighed. What had his life come to? He turned 30 in a few weeks with nothing to show for it but a job he hated and an old, tiny apartment. His dirty blonde hair was thinning prematurely. The kindest way Larry could think of to describe his body was pudgy. Duane would probably not be as generous, leaning towards portly. Worst of all, Larry was forced to live with a roommate he found intolerable.
“Look. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know anything about demons anyway,” reputed Larry. “Aren’t you earthbound?”
“Yes, I’m earthbound. But a person with my condition hears things,” explained Duane.
“Condition?” fumed Larry. “You don’t have a ‘condition’. You’re dead!”
“Demon Rampage has been the topic of gossip since its release,” Duane ignored Larry and adjusted his robe which no amount of straightening would ever fix. “The community finds the sacrilege frightening. Many of the demons in the game are fictional. Yet, a few are real and don’t take kindly to being used as fodder in a human game. Fueron, the fire demon at the end, would be particularly pissed off.”
Larry threw his arm over his eyes blocking the unreal image beside him. Duane was a 43 year old man who, unfortunately, wore his wife’s camisole, high heels, and a silk robe when he tripped on the unfamiliar shoes striking his head on the cast iron sink in the bathroom. For reasons unknown to the apparition, Duane was stuck in the apartment in his present form.
Let me know what you think!
If you enjoy ghost stories, try this one. It has a very simplistic plot line with straight forward characters. I would recommend it for pre-teen girls. But let’s face it, sometimes we old ladies want something to read that we don’t have to analyze.