Kem Rixen
New Member
Anywho, for the past month or so I've had a writers block, I really haven't been able to write anything at all. I think I might've broken it today, I started a new story that it's going to become much longer. It was hard to get going at first but I felt I got into the swing of things by the end. This would be the introduction, prolog, whatever you want to call it of the story. It's extremly short, but I really hit a style of writing that I like so I'm going to stick with it.
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<div align="center">Prologue</div>
There are many stories, many of which are clichés, many of which are substandard, many of which are downright awful. The sort of stories you'd find in the bargain bin of the bargain basement of the ninety nine cent store. This is one of those stories.
It all began seven days a go, for those who don't know, that's called a week. I was walking down the street when I saw something sparkle on the sidewalk. I crouched down to get a closer look, as I did a bright light blinded me. I suddenly felt a very odd sensation, the feeling of swimming in milk, but that soon passed and I saw I was in a dark room, tied to a chair.
“So you thought you could get away with it Kunsby?” said a voice angrily out of nowhere.
“I can say right now, that I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.” I replied.
“Don't play stupid with me Kunsby, you took the diamonds! Didn't you?!” said the voice, with an ever increasing tone.
“Diamonds, Kunsby, you're speaking nonsense-” I began to say before I was cut off.
“You know what I'm talking about, the diamonds from the Fourth National Bank of Bruce Street.” replied the voice in a very condescending tone this time.
“Oh, I get it now, this is all a little prank, when are the men with the video cameras going to jump out?” I said, chuckling.
“This isn't a joke! Give us back the diamonds Kunsby, you aren't going to talk your way out of this one!” it said in a quite booming voice. I opened my mouth once again to reply but the brutish arm of a man reached out and punched me in the face. I passed out...
<div align="center">Chapter 1</div>
“Davison was founded in 786 DR by Sir Bruce Shirley. The city was named after the heroic Walter Rathim Davison, the same person our country is named after. In 945 DR Old Main Street was renamed Bruce Street, and New Main Street was renamed Shirley Avenue, so that we may always remember such an important figure.” Was what I read on the old decrepit sign as I wasted away the time in the waiting room. There wasn't anything else to read so I kept rereading the sign, it wasn't particularly interesting either, very common knowledge. The presentation of the sign didn't help much either, it was gray with white text. It was only slightly more interesting than the wall, which had peeling white wallpaper. Finally a man opened the door to the right of me and called for me, “We're ready for you now Mr. Williams.” I always found it odd when I was referred to by my last name, it was such a rare occurrence.
As I stood up, I could hear the flimsy chair I was sitting in creak, I walked across the room and through the door. The room I entered was mostly empty, except for a chair near one of the corners. On top of that, the room was pretty bland, it was painted with a grayish-white color, similar to that of the poster in the previous room. The chair was a standard chair, it had four legs, a back, and two armrests. It was a faded red color so it stood out quite significantly. “Please close the door and sit down Mr. Williams.” said a disembodied voice quite calmly. I complied, as I walked to the chair I glanced around the room for a speaker or a video camera, I saw nothing. The chair didn't look all too comfortable, and it certainly wasn't, quite hard. “Well, you know why you're here Mr. Williams.” said the voice once again in the same calm tone as before.
I replied, carefully choosing my words as not to sound annoyed, even though deep down, I was. “Yes I know why I'm here, it was because I missed my daily checkout.”
“Why was it that you missed it, Mr. Williams?”
“As I said before, I was out very late last night celebrating my best friends' birthday and I overslept. It was an mistake, I'm sure it happens all the time to peopl-” I was cut off before I could finish.
“It never happens Mr. Williams, you're the first, there is a hidden motive here, and you will tell us what it is.” The voice transformed from it's calm voice at the beginning, to a hateful, angry voice. As it finished, bonds snapped around my arms, legs and neck, making it so I could no longer move. The room darkened and I heard a mechanical whirring sound to my right. I couldn't turn my head to see it, but it didn't matter, I felt a sharp pain in my neck. The bonds released and I slumped forwards in the chair, and the room became engulfed in light as it was before. The voice was quite calm again.
“Now Mr. Williams, why did you miss your daily checkout?”
I heard a voice that replied to the question, words that sounded like mine, yet I wasn't in control of what it said.
“I was tired of going to them, they seemed like a waste of time. I was tired, I set my alarm to later in the day so I could sleep later.”
There was complete silence for what seemed like minutes, but was most likely seconds. Then the voice replied quite calmly. “Thank you, Mr. Williams, you're free to go.” I had some trouble standing up at first, but I managed to walk out of the room. As I walked into the familiar waiting room I saw the same man who called me in before, “We hope to see you again very soon Mr Williams.” Then he gave me a huge evil grin, at this. I gathered what was left of my strength and dashed out of the building.
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<div align="center">Prologue</div>
There are many stories, many of which are clichés, many of which are substandard, many of which are downright awful. The sort of stories you'd find in the bargain bin of the bargain basement of the ninety nine cent store. This is one of those stories.
It all began seven days a go, for those who don't know, that's called a week. I was walking down the street when I saw something sparkle on the sidewalk. I crouched down to get a closer look, as I did a bright light blinded me. I suddenly felt a very odd sensation, the feeling of swimming in milk, but that soon passed and I saw I was in a dark room, tied to a chair.
“So you thought you could get away with it Kunsby?” said a voice angrily out of nowhere.
“I can say right now, that I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.” I replied.
“Don't play stupid with me Kunsby, you took the diamonds! Didn't you?!” said the voice, with an ever increasing tone.
“Diamonds, Kunsby, you're speaking nonsense-” I began to say before I was cut off.
“You know what I'm talking about, the diamonds from the Fourth National Bank of Bruce Street.” replied the voice in a very condescending tone this time.
“Oh, I get it now, this is all a little prank, when are the men with the video cameras going to jump out?” I said, chuckling.
“This isn't a joke! Give us back the diamonds Kunsby, you aren't going to talk your way out of this one!” it said in a quite booming voice. I opened my mouth once again to reply but the brutish arm of a man reached out and punched me in the face. I passed out...
<div align="center">Chapter 1</div>
“Davison was founded in 786 DR by Sir Bruce Shirley. The city was named after the heroic Walter Rathim Davison, the same person our country is named after. In 945 DR Old Main Street was renamed Bruce Street, and New Main Street was renamed Shirley Avenue, so that we may always remember such an important figure.” Was what I read on the old decrepit sign as I wasted away the time in the waiting room. There wasn't anything else to read so I kept rereading the sign, it wasn't particularly interesting either, very common knowledge. The presentation of the sign didn't help much either, it was gray with white text. It was only slightly more interesting than the wall, which had peeling white wallpaper. Finally a man opened the door to the right of me and called for me, “We're ready for you now Mr. Williams.” I always found it odd when I was referred to by my last name, it was such a rare occurrence.
As I stood up, I could hear the flimsy chair I was sitting in creak, I walked across the room and through the door. The room I entered was mostly empty, except for a chair near one of the corners. On top of that, the room was pretty bland, it was painted with a grayish-white color, similar to that of the poster in the previous room. The chair was a standard chair, it had four legs, a back, and two armrests. It was a faded red color so it stood out quite significantly. “Please close the door and sit down Mr. Williams.” said a disembodied voice quite calmly. I complied, as I walked to the chair I glanced around the room for a speaker or a video camera, I saw nothing. The chair didn't look all too comfortable, and it certainly wasn't, quite hard. “Well, you know why you're here Mr. Williams.” said the voice once again in the same calm tone as before.
I replied, carefully choosing my words as not to sound annoyed, even though deep down, I was. “Yes I know why I'm here, it was because I missed my daily checkout.”
“Why was it that you missed it, Mr. Williams?”
“As I said before, I was out very late last night celebrating my best friends' birthday and I overslept. It was an mistake, I'm sure it happens all the time to peopl-” I was cut off before I could finish.
“It never happens Mr. Williams, you're the first, there is a hidden motive here, and you will tell us what it is.” The voice transformed from it's calm voice at the beginning, to a hateful, angry voice. As it finished, bonds snapped around my arms, legs and neck, making it so I could no longer move. The room darkened and I heard a mechanical whirring sound to my right. I couldn't turn my head to see it, but it didn't matter, I felt a sharp pain in my neck. The bonds released and I slumped forwards in the chair, and the room became engulfed in light as it was before. The voice was quite calm again.
“Now Mr. Williams, why did you miss your daily checkout?”
I heard a voice that replied to the question, words that sounded like mine, yet I wasn't in control of what it said.
“I was tired of going to them, they seemed like a waste of time. I was tired, I set my alarm to later in the day so I could sleep later.”
There was complete silence for what seemed like minutes, but was most likely seconds. Then the voice replied quite calmly. “Thank you, Mr. Williams, you're free to go.” I had some trouble standing up at first, but I managed to walk out of the room. As I walked into the familiar waiting room I saw the same man who called me in before, “We hope to see you again very soon Mr Williams.” Then he gave me a huge evil grin, at this. I gathered what was left of my strength and dashed out of the building.
