Tzomisx
02-07-2005, 02:02 AM
Synop: A small time businessman dies and meets God - upon coming back to life he loses all recollection of his meeting and unknowingly has gained super-natural super powers.
Writers Notes: This one just sort of came to me in the last few hours or so - the prologue is rather "risky" with the dialogue, but this is the worst part (with swear words) in the overall piece formulating in my mind. The piece is pretty rough (there are quite a few things I'd like to change/fix/add/subtract), but because its just a prologue and the fact that its 2 AM, I'm just going to roll with it. Despite what the synop says, the overall story isnt even going to touch base on any real religion - it was sort of something Im throwing in there at the last moment... as my original idea was pretty limited, now I can carry on this character if he is well recieved. The Prologue will be in a tradition Narration but the rest is subject to change to First Person...
Prologue: Dying
“Get the **** up” he heard the scraggily voice command, all he wanted was for this personal hell to be over - without feeling another dose of pain
The 210 something pound brute of a man grew impatient and decided that he wouldn’t give Eric a chance comply, kicking him again in his ribs with the freshly polished tip of his Timberland boots. Another spurt of blood gushed out of his mouth, further tainting the sea of snow surrounding him. Eric could feel the blow, but barely this time; either he was starting to fade away or it was the ice beneath him dulling his senses.
An oily smile started to spread across the mans face, “That’s right, you ****ing ****** – you stay down.”
Eric could tell The Man was speaking, but the words inaudible as if he were fully submerged in water
The Man walked over to where his head was and in the florescent light that illuminated the back alley that night, Eric could make out the silhouette of his adversary, but barely…
End it now… I don’t deserve this
The Man inspected his handy work over one last time, then slowly began to crouch down to Eric’s level so that he could speak with him face to face one last time, just to make sure his message got through clear.
The Man lost his smile and picked Eric up by the back of his jacket, and hoisting him an inch or so off the ground. Eric could feel the soft mist of bourbon coming from The Man’s mouth as he began to speak…
“That Baby is mine, you ass. You just stay the hell away from Kiera and my house. This is why you don’t **** a real mans wife.”
Eric could hear him perfectly this time… he tried to reply but nothing would come out his mouth
She doesn’t love you… you’re not a real man and far from being human, you damned drunk. You can’t do this to people just because you are a failure…
The Man’s eyes became narrow, “I don’t even know why she would even waste her time with such a pitiful fag”
Eric then felt a warm ooze on his nose… he had been through a lot of degrading things in his life, but nothing this bad
The Man simply stood back up and walked away from the dark passage behind Muligan’s Pub - thinking all of his problems were over with
Nobody could ever find me here… this is it… I’m dying…
He couldn’t even move anymore, all he could do was stare idly at what he thought was a trash can while waiting for the darkness to fall unto his eyes to take him away…
Writers Notes: This one just sort of came to me in the last few hours or so - the prologue is rather "risky" with the dialogue, but this is the worst part (with swear words) in the overall piece formulating in my mind. The piece is pretty rough (there are quite a few things I'd like to change/fix/add/subtract), but because its just a prologue and the fact that its 2 AM, I'm just going to roll with it. Despite what the synop says, the overall story isnt even going to touch base on any real religion - it was sort of something Im throwing in there at the last moment... as my original idea was pretty limited, now I can carry on this character if he is well recieved. The Prologue will be in a tradition Narration but the rest is subject to change to First Person...
Prologue: Dying
“Get the **** up” he heard the scraggily voice command, all he wanted was for this personal hell to be over - without feeling another dose of pain
The 210 something pound brute of a man grew impatient and decided that he wouldn’t give Eric a chance comply, kicking him again in his ribs with the freshly polished tip of his Timberland boots. Another spurt of blood gushed out of his mouth, further tainting the sea of snow surrounding him. Eric could feel the blow, but barely this time; either he was starting to fade away or it was the ice beneath him dulling his senses.
An oily smile started to spread across the mans face, “That’s right, you ****ing ****** – you stay down.”
Eric could tell The Man was speaking, but the words inaudible as if he were fully submerged in water
The Man walked over to where his head was and in the florescent light that illuminated the back alley that night, Eric could make out the silhouette of his adversary, but barely…
End it now… I don’t deserve this
The Man inspected his handy work over one last time, then slowly began to crouch down to Eric’s level so that he could speak with him face to face one last time, just to make sure his message got through clear.
The Man lost his smile and picked Eric up by the back of his jacket, and hoisting him an inch or so off the ground. Eric could feel the soft mist of bourbon coming from The Man’s mouth as he began to speak…
“That Baby is mine, you ass. You just stay the hell away from Kiera and my house. This is why you don’t **** a real mans wife.”
Eric could hear him perfectly this time… he tried to reply but nothing would come out his mouth
She doesn’t love you… you’re not a real man and far from being human, you damned drunk. You can’t do this to people just because you are a failure…
The Man’s eyes became narrow, “I don’t even know why she would even waste her time with such a pitiful fag”
Eric then felt a warm ooze on his nose… he had been through a lot of degrading things in his life, but nothing this bad
The Man simply stood back up and walked away from the dark passage behind Muligan’s Pub - thinking all of his problems were over with
Nobody could ever find me here… this is it… I’m dying…
He couldn’t even move anymore, all he could do was stare idly at what he thought was a trash can while waiting for the darkness to fall unto his eyes to take him away…