RuneScape Forum Archive | Leb's Ensemble of Short Shorts

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The slightly older man leaned over to get a better look at the object, and to his surprise, a familiar image enveloped his sight.
She was standing on a hill, her golden hair flickering in and out of obscured light as a heavy breeze tossed each strand unnaturally about her shoulders. Her hand curled around her dark staff calmly, her fingers dancing clumsily across the purple metal as if possessed by the twisted colour. She was laughing, and the atmosphere seemed to burn with every electric breath that filled her chest with distorted energy.
He approached her, dry grass cracking beneath his feet. Charred dust stirred as he walked, enveloping him in fleeting black smoke. The sun was hidden beneath shadowy clouds, and its dim rays barely illuminated the earth below. Jagged rocks littered the slope he climbed, piercing the soft leather of his boots to scrape the skin beneath. She was still smiling when he reached her, her eyes alight with rabid pleasure.
Standing next to her, he looked out towards the fields before him, faint corpses adorned in black and red together with those in blue. The wind’s howl screeched through the plain, twisting high screams of the wounded through the charred air. Her laughter mingled with the wails, the writhing agony engorged by her per(c)verted mirth.
“Such a rush,” she said. “Such… such beauty.”
He did not reply, his gaze fixed on the fields.
“I suppose that’s a bit unfortunate, though.”
He glanced back at her, her empty pity grating horribly against his ears despite the swirling melody of her voice. Silently, he caressed her face with the back of his fingers, a light sorrow swelling behind his pupils. He turned away and left her there, a cold tear escaping his eyes and cutting delicately across his cheek.

23-Jun-2011 12:50:41 - Last edited on 07-Dec-2011 13:18:26 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The merchant-man giggled excitedly as the image eclipsed, the air a renewed mint. The older man, who was still situated on the lounge next to the women, exhaled a sharp breath, collapsing back into a relaxed position. His companion did*’t bother turn her head, merely glancing at him sidelong and folding her arms.
“Your turn, my dear.”
The woman found herself unable to avert her gaze, and she too allowed the liquid in the bowl to come to life.
A blistered wilderness, charcoal black claiming all that is in sight. Fierce flames engulfed several skeletons that littered the ground, extending their reach to the similarly mangled trunks of long-dead trees. In the middle of it all, fending off an entire army of skeletons, was the woman.
She raised her arms above her head again, conjuring a large red cloud that swallowed her. Just as the skeletons were within slashing distance, she allowed the swarm to expand, flowing outward and scorching the advancing troops. She permitted her tensed state to collapse.
“Wow, thanks for that. I thought Zemouregal would win for sure. You are the true Defender of Varrock.” The warrior, clad in slightly worn adamant armour, attempted to bow to her before the metal coating restricted his movement to the point of immobilisation. Before he could resume his regular position, he was sent flying backward by an invisible force.
“I hate,” the woman muttered, her hands glowing a faint red beside her, “adventurers.”
The bowl boiled dry, leaving only the smooth interior surface of the marble. As the woman relaxed herself, the man opposite her placed a large book on the table entitled ‘Counselling’.
“So,” the merchant-man said, turning to a sub-section labelled ‘Marriage’. “What is it you two want to talk about? You go first, Dionysius. Zenevivia, you can speak next.”

23-Jun-2011 12:50:42 - Last edited on 01-Nov-2011 20:15:06 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

This was my entry to the fourth round of Mitch's "Survivor Two" contest. The challenge was to write a story on a phobia. I chose the more obvious "fear of death" as my subject matter, but explore the theme with a juxtaposing tone. Some of these paragraphs possess what may be some of my best examples of innovative applications of literary techniques, but unfortunately, because the phobia was not foregrounded, this was my least successful entry in the contest.
_______________________________________________________________________

-Thanatophobia-

Waves rolled onto the shore with a constant rhythmic drive, glinting in the modest moonlight as they began their shadowy plight towards the ground. It was a cloudless night; the man looked out to the horizon. His eyes seemed to gravitate towards a particular point on the line, a false firing of signals with regard to the visual monotony.
“I wonder if waves have emotions.”
The stars were staring down at him from the sky, watching as he tensed his face with the thunders of the ocean. They continued to hoist themselves up the beach. A grumbling that began to crescendo from the depths of his stomach offered a harmoniously malevolent note that slowly dissolved to a deafening silence.
“What would it feel like to fall and fade away?”
A wooden plank floated contently across the undulating surface, scraping across the sand as it settled to the ground, the surge disintegrating beneath its step. The timber emanated a harsh deposit of memories that permeated the man. The radiation was akin to that of an atomic explosion, bringing on images in the man’s mind not dissimilar to that of such destruction.
“Do they feel fear?”
The flash of a camera in the distance signalled the introduction of another instrument. A rabid animal began to growl at the man, barking at intervals when sporadic photographers entered the scene. Wisps of smoke-like shroud began to climb from the horizon; they crawled towards the beach with a broken viscosity

23-Jun-2011 12:50:44 - Last edited on 07-Dec-2011 13:16:55 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“At least they’re free.”
The man stood up and turned in a practised revolution as his eyes took snapshots of a hundred vistas. Collapsing back onto the sand, he glanced at the stirring woman to his right side. She sat up briefly, the brown stains on her dress transiently capturing the distorted light, before descending to the depths.
“While we’re trapped here.”
A breeze, embellished with directed subito, erupted from the water as the ocean exhaled in an exaggerated sigh. Loose grains of sand were thrust into the air in an orchestrated tempest, dodging the woman’s hair that swung around in battalions of microscopically spiked tendrils. Tiny feet perambulated the expansive liquid; footprints of ballerinas traversed the untrodden land.
“And I don’t mean on this island.”
The man tapped the top of his head with a disfigured index finger, bringing a knife down into the woman’s skull with his right arm. A red rivulet flowed sinfully down to the water’s edge. Producing a box of matches, he lit a pile of sticks that had been arranged in a tepee on the outskirts of the jungle that attacked the boundaries of the beach.
“I love you.”
He stared deeply into the glazing surfaces of the woman’s eyes. Drops of splashed seawater rolled down his cheeks as he removed her clothing, dragging her to the fire by her arms and allowing her to rest. He stoked the growing blaze with a thick stick; water dripped off his cheeks and hissed as it was consumed by the flames. He patted his stomach.
“But I’m a coward.”
He reached down and pulled a gold ring off of the woman’s finger, placing it in his palm next to a similarly blonde halo. Winding his arm up, he tossed the identical rings into the distance; a distinctive splash filled the air.
The man picked the woman up and tossed her on the raging fire.

23-Jun-2011 12:50:45 - Last edited on 19-Nov-2011 15:19:40 by Borna Coric