Hi people!
So hows the story going so far? Anyway, I'll be away in HK for a while and will only be back on the 29th. Hope you guys are still enjoying the extremely long break away from studies (that is, for the poly peeps who start school only in April). Will post part 2 when I get back :D
Jethro.
Tuesday 21 February 2012
Monday 20 February 2012
Chapter 10: Expulsion [PART1]
Thunder it must have been, for the sudden inclusion of noise in the room had startled everyone. Their necks craned towards the source, as if they had eyes that could see through the sheer solidity of the door standing in their way.
'Who is it?' Ethan instinctively questioned as he peered nervously back at the pool of blood that by now had flown from the kitchen to the living room, staining the fine marble flooring.
An unsatisfactory answer was given in its cruelest form.
'Who is it?' He asked again.
A creak, and then the screech of metal scraping metal as daylight entered the cold room gradually as the door opened. Shadows of neighbouring houses formed within the house and the smell of industrialisation filled their nostrils. However, it was a rather odd (and partially ridiculous) time to play host to a female guest.
Pedigree, was the first adjective that the gents could keep synonymous with her well-groomed and polished appearance. Bright red lips. Deep blue eyes. Long gold locks. Sparkling black dress of satin. It was as if Algaea herself had been personified into a mortal form. The bright colours that adorned her skin resembled a painting, a masterpiece of sheer magnificent beauty that would have even been able to give life to the dead. Suddenly, the room wasn't so dreary anymore.
'Hello.' She said simply. Her voice clearly nonchalant to the happenings that filled the room barely an hour ago.
'Hello...uh...yes..you are?'
'Im Serena. Serena Kelly.'
'Who is it?' Ethan instinctively questioned as he peered nervously back at the pool of blood that by now had flown from the kitchen to the living room, staining the fine marble flooring.
An unsatisfactory answer was given in its cruelest form.
'Who is it?' He asked again.
A creak, and then the screech of metal scraping metal as daylight entered the cold room gradually as the door opened. Shadows of neighbouring houses formed within the house and the smell of industrialisation filled their nostrils. However, it was a rather odd (and partially ridiculous) time to play host to a female guest.
Pedigree, was the first adjective that the gents could keep synonymous with her well-groomed and polished appearance. Bright red lips. Deep blue eyes. Long gold locks. Sparkling black dress of satin. It was as if Algaea herself had been personified into a mortal form. The bright colours that adorned her skin resembled a painting, a masterpiece of sheer magnificent beauty that would have even been able to give life to the dead. Suddenly, the room wasn't so dreary anymore.
'Hello.' She said simply. Her voice clearly nonchalant to the happenings that filled the room barely an hour ago.
'Hello...uh...yes..you are?'
'Im Serena. Serena Kelly.'
Wednesday 8 February 2012
Chapter 9: Possession
It was loud. Piercing actually. The sheer volume of the pumping valves of that one man’s heart simply struck terror into everyone. No one spoke as their eyes failed to transmit any of their emotions to their brains to be translated into words. Cold. There was no trace of any intensity, heat or tension that had filled the room just a while ago. Fear, instead, took its place in the minds of each and every one in the room. Consequences, it seemed, was a much harsher reality than the scene that they had created for themselves.
‘Clank!’ a sudden echo from the kitchen resonated.
Silence.
A footstep. Then another. A myriad of non-sequential stomps followed as if each foot were trying to catch up with the other. A shadow was quickly forming and what a sight! Knife in hand, pendant in another, Ethan Goodend stumbled out of the kitchen. Pale. What a face of snow! Bruises adorned his knuckles and his shirt bled velvet. His blade dripped of the same shade and his eyes scanned the room like a tiger looking for its prey.
‘By God! What have you done?’ One member of the suited band asked as his body shook and trembled.
Silence.
One man brave enough for the truth, brushed aside the rest, and charged into the room pompously.
He promptly fled, screaming hysterically at the top of his voice leaving a trail of fresh footprints. Velvet it was and terror it did endorse.
No one it seemed, absolutely no one, was ready for the sight of whatever was in the kitchen. The suited band, seeing that their own peer had left, followed suit in a rather haste and abrupt fashion.
Fortunately, certain innocence spared the twins from the truth of that day and trauma of the highest level wasn’t allowed into their lives that fateful moment.
‘Sit down father.’ Romulus quickly snatched at the nearest chair.
‘At least they’re gone, but what about the man behind?’
‘He is not our concern brother!’
‘I hope he is alright..’
‘I said! He is not our concern!’
Poor Ethan. He was a mess, a bag of nerves. His hollow eyes were rather haunting and he stared into space, with his grip on both the knife and pendant still firm.
‘It’s over boys.’ He suddenly said with disarming confidence.
They looked up at him. What a fatherly figure they thought in their own pubescent way. It was an image that they were to capture for the rest of their lives, an act of selfish goodwill that yet embodied protection and shelter at all costs. He looked at them too with a rather grim knowledge that it’d be the very last act of protection in his known life for them. Ethan teared and closed his eyes half knowing the fate that awaited him. Every muscle tightened, every vein surfaced and he hugged them tightly. He remembered Anne and grief consumed him.
One man dead, One family consequentially torn apart. One exposure to the most extreme action mankind can inflict on another. Fate, however, had dictated to remain consistently cruel. It was adamant on tearing up whatever was left of the Goodends. Like a vulture, it laid in wait to devour the family carcass.
Knock! A pounding at the door had brought their moving embrace to an abrupt standstill.
One man dead, One family consequentially torn apart. One exposure to the most extreme action mankind can inflict on another. Fate, however, had dictated to remain consistently cruel. It was adamant on tearing up whatever was left of the Goodends. Like a vulture, it laid in wait to devour the family carcass.
Knock! A pounding at the door had brought their moving embrace to an abrupt standstill.
Friday 3 February 2012
Chapter 8: Thunder
Breathes were held and the entire brawl was brought to an abrupt standstill. The silence was deafening as the sudden sight of Ethan Goodend calmly taking each step took them by surprise. His appearance had brought an eerie calm to the storm already brewing, with the clergymen taking a step back away from his bruised and battered son. Then, in a sign of solidarity, he picked Remus up and dusted his shoulders. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the fatherly love that he had been robbed of for many years finally bestowed on him once again.
'What's this whole thing about?' he whispered to Remus.
'It's...it's..the pendant.'
Ethan's eyes and expression reflected his shock. The sheer audacity, he thought, to rob a man of his last memory of a woman he had loved all his life. Of course, his thought processes weren't as straightforward as that. Fury was welling up within him and any belief that this man would choose a more diplomatic approach to easing the tension evaporated at that instant. That instant that the light of gold and jewels struck his twisted face. That sheer radiance that sparkled spoke wonders to him. It transported him back years in time to a single moment.
'Do you remember what you said when they were born?' a soft, gentle, but more importantly, feminene voice spoke inside him.
'Yes. Every word. My emotion has never affected my promise.'
'They're hurt Ethan. Torture does not simply manifest in its physical form.'
His eyes close and his lips mutter in inaudible whispers all this while nonplussed to the stench of utter discomfort and fear released by his audience of boys and men. For a second, for a minute they wait. Sweat fills their eyes and they begin to feel the itch and irritation of their awkwardness and inability to counter the rather unprecedented situation they are in.
Suddenly, his eyes open and he looks back at the pendant. He sees a simple metal structure simply protecting a picture.
'Can I, please, have that back?' A rather sincere and meek voice appeals softly.
Silence.
'I would like that back' This time a little bit firmer with a tinge of anger.
Silence.
In that second, the same man that had been pinned down a while ago, was wrestled to the ground once more. The two men fought like ravenous wolves and each man took and gave an equal amount of pain. Smashing plates and cutlery, they announced their arrival into the kitchen. Heartbeats thumped so rapidly and loudly that one could not be faulted to have thought that it was machinery producing those noises. Screams, expletives and gargled grunts were heard as the fight continued. It stretched on like piece of elastic. Stretching to a point of no return, it continued to move in opposite directions as every thread of fibre was pulled to limits unknown. Alas, it snapped. The duet of heartbeats slowed down. Dropping and dropping until only one was heard.
'
'What's this whole thing about?' he whispered to Remus.
'It's...it's..the pendant.'
Ethan's eyes and expression reflected his shock. The sheer audacity, he thought, to rob a man of his last memory of a woman he had loved all his life. Of course, his thought processes weren't as straightforward as that. Fury was welling up within him and any belief that this man would choose a more diplomatic approach to easing the tension evaporated at that instant. That instant that the light of gold and jewels struck his twisted face. That sheer radiance that sparkled spoke wonders to him. It transported him back years in time to a single moment.
'Do you remember what you said when they were born?' a soft, gentle, but more importantly, feminene voice spoke inside him.
'Yes. Every word. My emotion has never affected my promise.'
'They're hurt Ethan. Torture does not simply manifest in its physical form.'
His eyes close and his lips mutter in inaudible whispers all this while nonplussed to the stench of utter discomfort and fear released by his audience of boys and men. For a second, for a minute they wait. Sweat fills their eyes and they begin to feel the itch and irritation of their awkwardness and inability to counter the rather unprecedented situation they are in.
Suddenly, his eyes open and he looks back at the pendant. He sees a simple metal structure simply protecting a picture.
'Can I, please, have that back?' A rather sincere and meek voice appeals softly.
Silence.
'I would like that back' This time a little bit firmer with a tinge of anger.
Silence.
In that second, the same man that had been pinned down a while ago, was wrestled to the ground once more. The two men fought like ravenous wolves and each man took and gave an equal amount of pain. Smashing plates and cutlery, they announced their arrival into the kitchen. Heartbeats thumped so rapidly and loudly that one could not be faulted to have thought that it was machinery producing those noises. Screams, expletives and gargled grunts were heard as the fight continued. It stretched on like piece of elastic. Stretching to a point of no return, it continued to move in opposite directions as every thread of fibre was pulled to limits unknown. Alas, it snapped. The duet of heartbeats slowed down. Dropping and dropping until only one was heard.
'
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