Counting Corvids Chapter Four

Chapter Four: “Bite Me”

 

“So, this is going to sound weird, but you know after your friends with your ex and after a while it stops being awkward?”

“No, but continue”

“Well Ollie and I were getting on fine then the past few weeks all I’ve had is radio silence, I asked around but no one has seen him, or if they have  they aren’t telling me. I’ve got this horrible feeling something has happened to him.”
“I know this is an awkward thought but do you think he might have moved on? I’m sorry but from the sounds of it, it has been a while since you were together.”
“You’re probably right, it’s just a nagging feeling”
“Do you still like him in that way?”
“No, we just used to be good friends”
“Maybe its just time fore a fresh start, I am sure there’s someone out there just desperate to be Mr Madison Smith”

“Yeah I suppose, maybe, come on lets go.” The girls threw their jackets on and headed outside. “What a dive”
“Well it is called a dive bar”

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be literal”

“Point well made”

“Indeed, hey Madi, are there meant to be this many bats around here?” Willow had asked as she adjusted her eyes to the darkness, to the strange forms hanging around the trees and lamp posts.

“What? No, get back in the bar” she tried to drag Willow at a run back through the car park. “Why are we running?”

“They aren’t normal bats, they are vampire bats”

“You’ve got to be joking, vampires don’t exist”
“Yes they do, now move” Willow allowed Madi to lead the way seconds too late, the bats started descending upon them, turned about in a cloud of bats Willow tripped. Madi had started slicing through the bats vanquishing them with a handful remaining they flew off making their escape. Madi helped Willow up.

“Are you ok?”

“I think so”
“No scratches?”

“No, you?”

“None”

“Come on lets go”

*

“I’m sorry my Queen, we were not warned of the Delicai-”

“You fools” the Queen’s voice echoed through the caves, “I told you to bring me the girl and you bring me nothing but defeat, you are a disgrace.”
“We were caught off guard by the girl your majesty” The Queen’s looming figure stood over her disgraced warriors.

“Perhaps your majesty, I might be of assistance?” The voice belonged to a smooth handsome figure curling his lips into a sinister grin.

“Joseph, do you have an idea my sweet?”

“Yes your majesty, let me infiltrate them, find the weak spot and hand it to you on a silver platter.”
“And what does this idea cost me?”
“Make me your king, let me earn their trust while the vile breathers are under attack, I look like the victorious hero, I hand you the information and bring you our trophy.”
“And if you fail?”
“I am at your mercy” the Queen’s lips twisted into a cruel smile before she nodded.

*

“So I have to ask, do vampires attack here often or?”

“Well no, they were outlawed by evil centuries ago, and well its not like us good guys would get involved with creatures that made a deal with the devil in exchange for eternal life now is it?”

“Well no, I just wondered-”
“That twilight stuff is totally unrealistic, humans think vampires are sexy, they have no shred of humanity left in them to be able to fall in love, they are fascinated by power not by some bizarre clingy, psychotic notion of love. They are cunning, don’t get me wrong, it’s just, we haven’t heard of vampire attacks in a long while thanks to the outlawing.”
“That’s nice”
“Well until today it was”
“No more espresso martinis for you tonight”

“Why? They are lovely”

“Yes but you don’t seem to want to shut up”

“What’s new? One last drink to steady our nerves and we’ll go?”

“Fine, is it bad that I’m starting to like it here?”

“The town or the bar?”

“Both”
“It’s totally fine, are you sure you don’t want some?”
“No, no it’s fine I will stick to my virgin Cuba Libre, but thank you”
“Spoil sport” Setting up the bill Willow lead Madi out of the bar, intending to let Madi sleep off her espresso martinis from the sofa. Unfortunately Madi had other ideas, one being dancing in the car park singing “Its Raining Men” as the sky opened up pelting them with raining, soaking their clothes in seconds. Five renditions of Madi singing “Its Raining Men” while dancing like no one was watching later and she was finally ready to leave.

Heading through the exit they found themselves surrounded once more by three times the amount of bats as before instinctively Willow started firing at them while a thoroughly intoxicated Madi babbled on about fireworks leaning heavily on Willow while the swarm surrounded them.

In the darkness of swirling bats being vanquished the dim ember from the streetlight came back into sight as the swarm thinned to expose a man aiding their battle. Pulling the girls towards a near by shelter. “You girls alright?”
“Yeah, I think so… erm… thank you?”

“No worries, do you think the coast is clear?”
“Possibly sexy pants” Willow shot Madi a look before apologizing on her behalf.

“So do I get to know your names?”
“She’s Madi and I am Willow”
“Pretty, just like you, I’m J.B”
“J.B?”

“Joseph Birch, most call me J.B but I’m no stranger to being called Jo”
“Well I believe my friend and I at least owe you a drink for your valiant rescue.”
“I couldn’t”
“You could, maybe just not tonight though, I need to get madam sober first.” She nodded in Madi’s direction as she leaned harder against her shoulder.
“O.k. a drink would be lovely” He flashed her a smile as they braved leaving their hiding place to head home.

Counting Corvids Chapter Three

Chapter Three: “A Walk in the Park”

 

Madi having insisted on giving Willow a tour was dragging a very uninterested Willow through shops, pathways, short cuts and so on, no amount of caffeine would lift her from dragging her heels. No matter how hard Madi had tried she couldn’t find a positive spin to put on the area even as a truck load of guys went past yelling crude suggestions at them in their inebriation.

Willow unable to resist herself shot a small flame at the tire, popping it causing the car to come to a halt. Madi looked thoroughly displeased as she pulled a giggling Willow roughly by the arm towards the park they had met in.

Madi cautioned Willow heavily over her actions and the risk of exposure. Willow was in no mood to listen as she strolled up to the bridge.

Something about using the fire inside her had reared her more impulsive reckless mood.

The girls noticed a shadow approaching behind them hoping it was a rather repulsive looking body builder, but instead they found themselves disappointed by the sight of a Quake demon they turned to cross the bridge just as four more stood in their way as another appeared on the other side, the girls were trapped.

Worse, they were growing into an outnumbered territory that wasn’t just a problem for themselves, many more and who knows what could happen.

The Quake demon standing behind them came closer and focused his attentions on Madi while Willow began bombarding the closest Quake on the bridge pushing them back with the flames, causing a domino effect as they backed into each other as they stumbled over and the closest had fallen over the bridge falling in a fiery blaze.

The three remaining on the bridge struggled to pull themselves up while Willow turned to help Madi vanquish her Quake. The two girls teamed up on the thing blasting at him repeatedly before he exploded in a fireball.

It wasn’t over, not that easily at least. The Quake on the other side of the bridge took his opportunity and threw a boulder towards the girls catching Willow and knocking her out leaving Madi left to do something.

Madi now facing the two quakes attempting to edge closer over the bridge on her own. Their rough, dry skin sounding like the slamming waves of the ocean against a rock as they edged closer and closer.

Willows eyes slowly opened as Madi struggled to fend them off and keep them from crossing the bridge. Without thinking or realising herself, Willow had caught sight of the boulder the demon had hit her with. Without knowing or thinking she felt her arm reach towards it, the boulder rose in the air before her, instinctively she threw her arm towards the Quakes advancing and the boulder followed the path slamming into the Quakes pushing them over the edge and down into the water where they burst into a small puff of orange smoke.

The Quake on the other side of the river stared at the girls before turning to run, the girls followed after him. “I didn’t know you could do that?”

“Neither did I, keep running, we have to get him” the girls emerged on the other side of the gates and the demon was gone. “How can you do that? You’ve only just come into your powers, that’s a high level gift?”

“How am I supposed to know? Shouldn’t we be more concerned that the Quake escaped?”

“Probably, fancy a coffee?”

“What’s wrong with a decent cup of tea?”

“Nothing, if you can find one” Madi said as she directed them towards yet another dingy little diner.

The girls sat down, Madi with her coffee, Willow with her tea that quite frankly tasted like dish water, “this is one really bad cup of tea.”

“What do you expect?”

“Something that doesn’t remind me of stewed socks.”

“That’s ridiculous” Madi took Willows cup and had a taste, “God that’s foul.”

“Told you. Something doesn’t feel right, you know, that thing escaping, somethings got to be going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well don’t you find it odd? First those two Quakes then today, it doesn’t really seem like a coincidence does it now?”

“Don’t worry about it Willow.”

“Famous last words”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, come on lets go.”

Madi taking Willows lead left as she directed them back taking a short cut through an alley. Behind them a Quake appeared in the shadows following behind them. The girls turned to face him just as he went to send them flying he stopped and stared at something down the alley, the girls turned to see the shadow of a figure in the darkness, the quake bowed and disappeared.

The girls curiosity was peaked, they edged towards the shadowy figure which turned away from them and disappeared as he walked, no longer there. Stunned the girls reached the spot where it had stood, but found nothing just a dark patch of broken chippings and gravel.

Something, someone, some demon had stopped their near certain death.

 

 

Counting Corvids Chapter Two

Chapter Two: “Home Sweet Home”

 

There is darkness all around, except for a glimmer of silvery moonlight shining on the grassy slope to the eerie shadow of a circle made of stone inside are three people stood waiting. In the distance quiet waves but an echoing wind howling louder and louder, the three figures struggle to stay balanced in the darkness.

Everything stops, a blazing violet light encircles and traps the stone circle, the three figures are clear for a moment, and the light grows brighter and denser until nothing is visible with in it. The light stops, and the figures lay motionless on the ground.

*

A young woman bolts upright in her bed, at the window stands a crow, watching her quietly before it cawed, in surprise the woman whips her head around in time to see it explode in a ball of fire. In seconds she was no longer alone in the room, still shaking as her parents rushed in, in a panic. The young lady, Willow, finds no answer, even once she has prepared herself for the day. Not quite sure on a solution she resolves to do a little exploring to distract her, not knowing just how true those words were.

*

The area around her seemed nothing like the promises her parents had made. This was in no way a good or remotely trendy neighbourhood. On the surface, everything was bleak and miserable. In fact everything here seemed desperate, buildings and people alike whether it was for love or money was indistinguishable.

The local park lacked in so many ways, everything was left to its own devices, pathways, grasses, fences. Walking alone here, seemed ever so slightly other worldly, that was until Willow felt impact in her shoulder, a girl had run into her and sent her flying, the girl carried on running, her pursuers closely behind her.

Willow jumped up confused, baffled and curious rubbing her shoulder; she followed in pursuit of the girl who had managed to get herself a little trapped.

Willow without thinking tried to help, pulling one of the girls pursuers attention away. Willow couldn’t believe her eyes at the towering man who looked more like boulders in shape then human, the girl had started to try to fight back. Not quiet sure if she had done it on purpose or by accident, Willow had started blasting this creature with ball after ball of fire.

After a few attempts Willow succeeded as the thing burst into the exact same flames as the crow on her window sill, that very morning, but this time it was accompanied by an agonizing scream from the beast.

The girl and the remaining thing turned to face her, the thing disappeared into thin air as the girl stood staring at Willow.

“Hey how did you…? I mean… what are…? I mean… Hi, I’m Madison but most people call me Madi,” Madi extended her hand but Willow stared at it, “I have to go” she stammered before turning on her heels. “Wait! Wait who are you? You saved my life.”

“Willow” she through over her shoulder as she carried on walking, Madi caught up with her. “Can I at least get you a coffee to thank you, something or anything?”

Willow stopped “Only if you can tell me what just happened.” Reluctantly Madi agreed as she led Willow into a small dingy diner, sitting in a booth next to the furthest corner window.

“That thing what was it?”

“It was a Quake”

“A what?” Madi stared at Willow stunned for a moment.

“A Quake is a demon,” she studied Willows face as she spoke. “A Quake demon, is a low level demon, up to around five of them in an area are low risk threats, any more then that and they have the potential to cause some serious damage.”
“Oh, right, I see so why were they chasing you?”

“I am a Delicai, a good being, a good witch in theory, I make mistakes, I accidently caught their attention and well, that is how we got here.”

“Right I see how do you know all this stuff?”

“It’s a family thing, I’m guessing by your reaction that was your first vanquish.”

“First what? Yes, I guess it was.”

“So erm, what are you?”

“To be honest I’m not really sure, mum once said I was an Elemental, well that our heritage was, I am not so sure.”

“It makes sense, I can’t get a reading from you, good or evil. Elemental’s are essentially in no-mans-land that way.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well Elemental’s reside in purgatory for an eternity, which is the case until the ever-so-mysterious chosen one finally materializes and makes an alliance in either good or evil.”

“How cheerful” Willow’s words spoke, remaining as neutral an expression as she could manage.

“I wouldn’t worry too much it’s not your responsibility to make the alliance is it? After all, you seem to be just coming into your powers.”

Willow smiled politely across at Madi who patted her on the arm, Willows body tensed with a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes unfocused, in her mind she could see another Quake demon crashing through the Window. Willows eyes snapped open.

“I thought you were just a flame elemental but it looks like you just had a premonition, oh… wait your first? Does that mean you’re an earth one too?”

“We have to go”

“Wait why?”

Willow didn’t have time to answer, the Quake demon came crashing through the window throwing the shattered glass everywhere, and moments later Madi soared through the air hitting the back wall as Willow scrambled out of its path.

Once more with evert effort she could muster she set to work on igniting the demon repeatedly until it was consumed in fire chasing after Willow who lead it out into the empty parking lot before it finally exploded sending her flying towards a hedge. As Madi reappeared searching for Willow in the hedges among the chaos. “Wow that was some explosion huh Willow” Willow murmured from the hedge before dragging herself from the branches.

 

Counting Corvids Chapter One

Chapter One: “Here we go”

 

This story is as old as time itself, but as new as the ink I write with. This story is my life, my death and what happened next.

For my story to begin to make sense an open mind is needed. Many generations ago my family stemmed from three sisters, triplets. Daughters of a Goddess, Hecate. They were born in the exact same place as I, a stone circle on a Scottish island. I had been over a thousand years after the triplets, my great, great, great well you know where that is heading. Like their birth, my birth had an effect on the world. When we were born, all the magic in the world stopped for a short while.

The daughters of Hecate each held power over an elemental property; flames, earth and mist. These three women started a new species of magic, a new species of witch, the Elementals. There are rumours that the three founders of the line are still alive after consuming the last breath of Hecate. It is said they are the elders and guides for our magic.

It is said that as the three sisters altered the destiny of one man, the ripple caused death after death of many. Neither good nor evil claimed them damning them and by extension me into an afterlife in purgatory. Since then we have been attempting to build an alliance through generations of good karma. Of course no good deed goes unpunished. The witch hunts were brutal.

At some point the elders sent word during the trials, should a child of all three lines be born into eligibility then they shall forge the path from purgatory into a new world and afterlife. As with all ancient stories they become rumour, fairy tale and myths. And that is why I am here, standing in the same stone circle at the turning of the years, like my mother did twenty one years ago at this very moment when I was born.

The three of us are no longer alone in the circle. In this darkness is where the story starts. There was a blinding flash of violet light in the circle before the world went black. The magic had once again stopped. In the darkness three voices chorused. Of course I had no idea what they said, I was out cold. From the gist of what Dad has said that the myth or legend of a chosen one, well that is me, he was the only one managing to stay half conscious to hear. I can’t quite explain why. Anyway it seems that I am the supposed guiding light my ancestors have been waiting for. No pressure. As the sun rose on the New Year it rose on us also, around us surrounding the circle had been hundreds of magpies, they had stopped watching me, instead they glared at the single crow taking flight away from the circle.

The wings of the magpies burst into flames as they swarmed and dived at us until the wings stopped burning and the magpies themselves plumed fresh char free feathers.

I’m not sure if it was the entire event or my childhood that freaked my parents out the most. You see, the problem is I didn’t have a normal childhood, my parents couldn’t risk me going to school. I was the breaker of hundreds of years of tradition, I had been born with powers, specifically basic flame powers.

Safe to say my shooting flames made my parents jumpy. I remember feeling lonely as a child, I struggled with mastering my power, my emotions. Apparently when I was three I had a strange encounter with a magpie. I liked magpies, I always have even if it was something I shouldn’t be proud of, my parents were wary. Once I had bowed to a magpie, it bowed back and flew to my shoulder. Since then I have always thought of magpies as sweet companions despite my parent’s very clear unease. The amount of hushed whispered arguments I had heard from the stairs always swam through in the darkness.

I think the magpies at the circle sealed our fate. Mum insisted we move to a town in Texas that is filled with magic that way I could learn to master my new abilities in peace without fear of discovery, so they say. I hated the idea, but I had no choice or no way to argue.

Writing Exercises

Okay, well, honestly I find writing, regularly, purposefully a struggle. I figured that perhaps adding some writing exercises to my routine may help. Then I figured if I do start the exercises, perhaps putting them on here wouldn’t do too much harm. After all the harmless fun of weightlifting words could be amusing for not only myself but if anyone crosses the page here.

Suggestions and prompts will be welcomed within reason.

The first task or exercise is to work on openings, fast paced or memorable, so perhaps the first few chapters of something. So I will be going wild… or not. This is perhaps moderation or restriction but I have a general idea of how I want the first one to look, the construction of the character, the shortness, the pace the productivity. It is about the tests I suppose of introduction, realism in an unrealistic world.

While I am here, I have to ask, as a reader it can be easy to fall in love with a character, as a writer it can be hard, you can write a character you don’t love but you need, when it comes to the time when you kill them off, has that love grown?

Personally, I had the experience recently of writing a character who had a purpose but had he been aside of the story and not a catalyst through choices, would I have loved him no? By the time it came to working it out hashing his death, I honestly shed a few tears. Possibly the result of characters I did love being devastated and partly because he had grown from acquaintance and insignificant to the bringer of the most radical changes to the characters. Through the path that took me as a writer from looking at this character as a useful being to help where I could not, to make the circumstance that bit better or that bit worse, when it comes to the death of such a character it became more then just a love for his usefulness. Like all characters he had taken a life of his own, he lived for a period of time in my head, and will do if I choose to unwind time to before “the incident” but as you finish a story, like when a character finishes his or her own journey there is a sense of loss and morning.

There will always be that moment or that day where things just seem sadder, at the closing lines to a moment you can let it all sink in and devour you. But there will be moments that make you so happy; unexpected moments or scenes of pure inspiration, those words you have heard time and time again in the recesses of your mind making an escape. Those moments where passion and inspiration takes over and the words that you write, are not just words they are this image inside your head, the colour of the sky, the setting sun, that moment of bliss when you can feel that same rush of joy or heartache as the character, you share in them completely, dissolving from being seperated by the unseen barrier and just being one with them. That moment that wonderful moment of complete understanding, that is what grew my passion for writing, that is where it all began.

Writing to me is so much more then just telling a story, it is deeply personal, especially in “Breathing Smog” it is the most personal honest thing I have written in my life. It has been the catalyst for everything, all the writing I currently do, the passion and excitement that gets poured into writing.

But writing has also been the most damaging thing in my life; as much joy and passion and excitement it has brought, it has also brought great pain, sorrow and heartache. Without mentioning the sleepless nights to their true extent, writing has helped me endure more pain then I thought possible. It has made me relive moments of pure hell and hatred, it has plagued my sleep, encouraged my darkest ideas and created the uncontrolled imagination just before bed when everything is quiet, there are two options; one being the spark of a brilliant idea for fixing something or making something completely new, or two that there is a monster or something in the darkness that I cannot see waiting to destroy me. Sometimes I think that monster is me. Writing is consuming, it takes your soul, it destroys your search engine, because you search the strangest of things, and it destroys how you see people at times.

What is their motivation? What is it they want or want to achieve? Why are they being kind? Is this really them or a pretense? Who are they? Who am I? Who am I when I am with them? Who do I want to be? Where do I want to be? What about them? What is their journey?

The perfect moments we write in the stories never happen to us, they are the dreams of our perfect moments, some of those tiny things we wish someone would say to us. While we ruin our readers expectations, we ruin our own, we can love unrealistically and live in the same way. Our hearts yearn for the impossible because the impossible is something we don’t understand or have never had but perfection is impossible.

Through writing, I have discovered the thing I love most about real life, its imperfections, our character flaws, the things that stop us from living in a world where we are the best we can be, perfection is failure. The great love I have is the things that stop us getting what we really want in life, love, and everything else. Through writing I learnt to analyse and read characters, their flaws and what will stop them getting what they want, I have learned to look through the writers eyes at my friends, I see their flaws and they are beautiful. Their beauty comes from their flaws and their mistakes, the things that hold them back, their challenges. Although sometimes I forget this, I judge them too harshly or I live in my own head too much and expect too much, I can fail to remind myself of what is stopping them from giving into what they want or what I think they want. Because I will always want to know more. I pry into my friends lives, a lot, I want to know everything about them, their perspectives, everything literally. It is what drives them mad, and me mad, but it also what helps them understand I care, I want to know how I can help them, or just a stranger who feels the same way. I want to do everything I can to help those I love but I want to extend that and help others.

Breathing smog was more then just the story of a couple of girls life, it was more then a story with an over-active opinionated narrator, it was more then a story about a rape, to me it was a story of survival, and challenge and it repeatedly made me ask myself, “who are you?”  and “what is it you hope to achieve?” The answer could be as simple as, everyone has a struggle even if things look perfect to the outside world, or it could be infinitely complicated.

That’s the thing, with writing there is the simple motivation and the complex which branches out into every world, every tiny detail or insignificant thing a connection with ourselves and our reality translated into our faults, failings, desires.

Exploring all of this using writing exercises and prompts is going to be the challenge, its a way of determining different echos of a voice and styles and characters and adventures that we love.