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Toss around ideas and brainstorm your story.

New story

12 years ago

I'm not sure this will even be a CYOA but I started pumping it out tonight. The only story worth mentioning that I've finished was Mommy - made somewhat easier by the divergent paths - but I thought I'd throw it out here, despite the dwindling community. What do you think? Does it make you interested or fuck it?

 


Bishop stared at the breaking dawn. The sky was red and inflamed, punctuated by wisps of fluffy clouds. He took a pull off his beer. Rose was pissed at him again. She'd basically thrown him out of the apartment. They had just moved to a two bedroom duplex, a somewhat rare commodity for St. Louis, as the wall adjoining the two homes opened onto a garage. The nice thing, he thought, was that the neighbors couldn't hear them fighting.

He absently stroked his shaved head, his hand moving smoothly over the bald part on top. He'd started losing his hair when he turned 20 and he'd made the best of it. He thought about the argument and found its purpose evaded him. He wasn't what you'd call an intellectual, but he wasn't stupid either. He was just Bishop, and had been since junior high. Something about her being second choice to his friend Shawn.

He took out his pack of Camels and lit a cigarette. He pensively looked at the sky covering the back lot like a thick, crimson blanket. At least he imagined he did. Bishop often found himself wondering how he would look if people were watching him. In the midst of reverie, the strangest thing happened.

A cloud darkened in the muted dawn. Its fullness expanded, belching forth a perfect sphere, the thing hurtling towards the earth with a high-pitched whine. The sound was unbearable. Bishop instinctually covered his ears and grimaced. His yard opened on perhaps two acres of barren land, the earth mostly dry, hard-packed clay. The sphere was about 100 yards in the distance, but it looked enormous and perfectly smooth. He briefly wondered if he was hallucinating.

The thing seemed to accelerate during its descent, plunging into the parched ground with such force that it sprayed a cloud of dust into the air, making its landing completely invisible. Bishop's mouth fell open and his cigarette fell unnoticed onto the patio. He turned, meaning to go inside and tell Rose, the argument forgotten, when a horrific noise, like that of a million filthy harpies, rose up and enveloped him. The persistent sound was unbearable and he imagined that a stroke would feel exactly the same. He pressed his hands to each temple and staggered, tiny spots blacking his vision. The noise stopped and there was complete silence. No blackbirds cawing, no crickets singing, no dogs barking.

That's when he heard the footsteps. They were purposeful steps. Quiet, pragmatic steps. He could hear each step as it fell into the dry earth, as though someone had walked there before and the footfalls were only retracing what had already been. They were ploddingly coming towards him. He heard himself croak, "Who's there?"

There was no response, but the steps came faster. They slapped against the ground now and accelerated in response to his voice. The steps turned into punctuated strikes, like the thing was jumping and was maybe ten yards out. Bishop couldn't see a thing. The dust was too thick.

New story

12 years ago
Oh fuck yeah.

New story

12 years ago

Thanks man. I was trying to experiment with shorter sentences. I seem to like clauses.

New story

12 years ago
You should definitely make this into a story! It is very interesting so far!