Stuff from Creative Writing Class

[Phanomel]

Yep,
First one wasn't nearly as long as it had to be. >_<


A Letter to Anonymous
Nuru, beautiful child, you have forgotten your past. You have forgotten the strength you had as a child, and as a slave. The beasts called men had beaten you, and treated you with such callousness, but you were young and innocent. You never talked back and you took the wrath of their darkened hearts. You were so strong then, but not strong enough, dear Nuru. I can see you giving up now. You’ve changed so much since those days, and you’ve been living in fear. Fate has chosen to smite you, darling child, and the wolves have hunted you for so long. Now is your time to rest, and please, dear Nuru, know that you are safe in those delicate realms of sleep. Let them comfort you, despite the wolves outside your door, and know how precious this life is.

Many of those you knew haven’t lasted half as long, and I’m afraid that’s led you astray, to a different sort of slumber. Yet, dear Nuru, I beg of you to return, to push off the fog of that slumber, stronger than before for the wolves are vicious. They will stop at nothing, and because of them I can see your world falling to decay, and I know you can see it as well, though you won’t ever admit it. You try to throw the blame around on other things, nature perhaps, but you should be ashamed. Your life has been hard, but you could always call it your own, and you should be thankful that you’ve had another day, for it only takes a second for all of this to change.

It only takes a second for your fear to go away as you drift off to sleep, beautiful child, so find solace while you can. Take this single moment of peace, and close your eyes, for it’s time you get some rest. Be strong, dear Nuru, and know the wolves are gone and nothing here can harm you.

Do not forget, though, that the wolves and beasts that lingered outside your door for so long are unwavering, and their darkness and decay can be consuming. So, stand your ground, never walk away, and realize that there comes a time when each of us will enter a sleep from which we will never wake, and it is not something to fear, but rather a bringer of peace.


P.S. (My notes)
Nuru means “light” in Swahili, and doesn’t refer to any single individual, but rather all of the people that were able to make it through such horrible times our world has seen and still rest easy in the end. The majority of people really are just like wolves, and they just seem to be looking for reasons to hunt down other people and sink their fangs in where it hurts the most.
Thus, my regards to all those people who were hurt and made it through alive.

[Phanomel]

The Project, Arkarine


Rats and mice, dogs and cats, all rustling about and whining or squealing, and some calling out for help or in agony.

“Our advancement is not quick enough.”

That horribly clean and disinfected smell would make anyone feeling uncomfortable about themselves feel quite worse after just a few deep breaths.

“We need more radical goals.”

Clinking of glass sent a couple rats squealing. They knew what painful future awaited one of them.

“But our workers are not all joyous about us. Some do not fill their quota, and some have spoken up with doubts.”

A feeling of intense cold slipped under the skin of the rat which was largest. Freezing cold, of metal in fact, and then such a burning hot so fierce the rat could make no noise loud enough, and stayed silent, writhing in the cool steel tub in which they had placed him. There was a moment where nothing happened and all the animals in the room, or the room next to that, did not breathe, and they all heard the water rattling the pipes.

“Professor Dearring, sir, we’re just starting our experiment for Arkarine.”

Arkarine; the crippled, blind boy from a neighboring village. He was pronounced dead by a local healer after appearing at the edge of the woods with his skin half burned away.

“Very well,” The breath that passed through the pale lips of the professor smelled strongly of peppermint and something else that couldn’t be named. “I’ll join you when I’m finished here.”

The white-coated assistant scurried back to the room where the animals were still waiting.

“Benjamin, that Arkarine boy you’ve had your beady eyes on will be our big break. And no one will mind that he’s disappeared. The blind cripple is no use to his mother.”

The dark-haired man that was Benjamin Dearring narrowed his eyes, though the men following him could not see through the dark, round glasses he always wore. “Shut up Hettal, you fool. You think I wouldn’t know that? Why else would I refuse you access to his files?” Hettal knew why the Professor had denied his requests, because the Professor didn’t trust many people, least of all himself.

Dearring left the small gathering of men to their bickering and confusion, and followed through the door where the Caer, the assistant, had passed.

“Continue immediately.” Dearring ordered Daniel Caer, and his partner, Cecilia Averhartey. But in the labs under the castle here, first names were rarely remembered, so they were Caer and Averhartey, and they were Professor Dearring’s favorite apprentices.

Caer reached forward and turned the valve so the water trickled into the tub, and immediately the large rat scrambled to the far end. He knew what that water would do if it touched him now, and the professor took a secret note of how the poor creature reacted.

“More.” Dearring ordered again, and Cael opened the valve further, and the water now rushed into the steel tub.

The rat let out a sudden scream of shock that startled the animals in the next room. It squealed and writhed against the cold metal, and the water just surrounding it started to fizz and foam.

“Alright!” The Professor turned away and bent over to look at Averhartey’s screen. The rat continued convulsing long after Caer turned the water off and let it drain, and it began letting off a soft wheeze, and a rather foul smell. “End it.”

Averhartey jumped from her computer to grab the vile of liquid that would end the poor creature’s suffering. Dearring was immediately in her spot, expecting the data on the screen. “You have one number wrong, other than that you’re perfect.” Of course, she only noticed how he said you’re perfect, and not specifically her work. But Dearring barely gave himself time to finish before he began with another idea. “We’ll be getting rid of the mutts and birds.”

Caer had just disposed of the pitiable rat’s body and looked up. “Why, sir? Especially the dogs, weren’t you working with a wolf?”

“Yes, yes.” Dearring breathed, in what was either an exhausted or deeply frustrated tone. “But wolves are not the same as dogs. The three wolves stay, but the dogs are too useless and dumb. Most of the rats will be going, too. Only a few of them have the desired qualities.”

Neither of his apprentices were too sure what he meant. Although there were few hands to help him to begin with, Benjamin Dearring did not quite trust his favorite and most gifted assistants with quite everything he did. He couldn’t have complete freedom, however, as he would have loved, for he still had to report to the Queen. Dearring would have very much loved to dethrone the horrible beautiful Sala Tanariem, but it was widely known that she was not just a fierce Queen of uncanny physical strength, but she was a sorceress. The technology she provided her scientists, so they could make living weapons for her, was not found in any other place in the world. So there were rumors that she wasn’t from that world, and the gossipers were probably right for once.

But Benjamin Dearring was a dangerous man. He was dangerously genius and often cruel, though he didn’t really see his own actions as being so horrible. But that trait made the worst of torturers even worse, when they were committing cruel acts without finding themselves torturous in the least. These things made the Professor nearly insane in the eyes of the common people. All they knew was that he did cruel things and didn’t seem to feel anything about it, and that Dearring knew everything about everyone.



Let us get to the part you really want to hear. That is, how the boy, Arkarine, came to his death in such a horrible way. His single mother was convinced he was burned after falling into a bonfire the local teenagers had out in the woods. He was younger than them, and just like they do these days, the teenagers had viewed him as a nuisance and thus paid little attention to him. Not one of them noticed him being led off by a neatly dressed blonde girl, or the black and brown-haired men she led him to. Of course, these people were Averhartey, Caer, and the Professor. Averhartey had already gained the young boy’s trust, and it wasn’t hard for her to comfort him while the Professor leaned over and stuck the needle into his vein.

If you haven’t yet noticed, this particular liquid, though it had no name and never would, was something of horrible and torturous ways. Injected into the veins, is spread all over the body through the blood. Once it had time to circulate and spread, the victim could not touch or drink water from outside sources. If they weren’t given the antidote, they would either die of dehydration, or be eaten from the inside out after trying to consume any water from outside the body.

It wasn’t their intentions to just test the stuff on the boy, in fact he had nothing to do with the development of it, but they figured it would make a good cover for taking the child. Everyone knew that Dearring would be the only one working on this boy, and the Professor had let out enough information for Caer and Averhartey to figure out that this boy would be used for developing one of the strongest weapons that Dearring would create for Queen Tanariem.



“Shh. Shh. Shhhhh.” The hissing echoed in the dungeon. No, it wasn’t a dungeon, it was an ordinary hall, or at least it was once, a long time ago. Now there were no doors on the different rooms, only slabs of metal or bars, or some sort of wire mesh that would have looked strange to any outsiders.

But you’ll probably want to hear what really happened to Arkarine. He was taken back to Queen Tanariem’s castle and led up to the upper floors where the Professor’s works were carried out. It took him a full year to heal, and he barely recovered before Professor Dearring began on him. After just two sessions in a room alone with the man, Arkarine was frightened out of his wits of the Professor. Naturally, he made a break for it, and actually made it back to his home village. No one recognized him, and he searched all day without finding his mother. Kids his own age called names to the boy, or screamed in shock, or simply avoided him the best they could. Those that didn’t run away were whispered horrible things from their parents, and steered away.

“That boy’s had a curse set on him, no doubt by the Queen. Don’t go near him, dear.” He heard one of the mothers say, and all he could think of to do was run.

He didn’t understand what was wrong with him until he gazed into a barrel of water and saw such an unfamiliar and hideous face looking back.

That single day aided Professor Dearring in convincing the poor boy that his only purpose in life was to serve Dearring’s studies for the Queen. He’d go on believing that until he reached seventeen, when a very strange thing happened. Arkarine had often listened to the other creatures down the hall talking with each other, and he knew that some of them were trusted enough by the Queen and her Professor that they could roam around freely at times, but he never expected that strange girl to stop outside his room and peer in at him.

“They call you Arkarine?” She nearly whispered it, and he almost didn’t catch it. But maybe that’s because he was so distracted by her red-violet hair and matching eyes.

“Oh,” He leaned forward to hear her better, snapping out of his trance. “Sorry.. Yes. I am Arkarine..”

She struggled to form a crack in the mesh that blocked him in, but she actually did succeed, and poked her head in. Her skin was so dark, but her smile made it look like her face was glowing, in Arkarine’s eyes at least.

“What do you have that scarf on your head?” She didn’t reach out to touch it, though he could tell she was very curious. Ever since the incident in his village he had been afraid to let people see his face, and so only a few scientists had seen his face. He didn’t even know much about what became of his hair, except that it was more of a pastel tan color than blond, and it was starting to creep out between the folds of the dark cloth.

“Never mind,” The girl grabbed his hand instead, and pulled him out through the crack. “We have to get you out of here. My name is Rose by the way, Millennium Rose.”

“But wait, what’s going on?” Arkarine nearly stumbled as she heaved him to his feet. She didn’t seem very tall, but apparently she was quite strong.

“Steel and I overheard the Professor talking about what he’s doing to us all tomorrow. You, Wolf, Steel and I. We’re the strongest of his weapons,” She glanced down at her feet, “Even though I’ve been outdated.. But that’s not the point. He’s going to try and alter us in such horrible ways.”

It was obvious she wasn’t lying, but Arkarine couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. He’d never really felt like this before, but he didn’t have time to think about his feelings. A gray-haired man came trotting up to them, absolutely covored in weapons. Daggers, swords, spear tips and throwing knives, and something Arkarine recognized as a gun.

“We need to go now.” The man whispered to Rose. He had gray hair, sure, but he looked to be in his upper twenties.

Rose grabbed Arkarine’s hand again, but not so hard this time, and guided him down the hall. “I’m sorry, we’ll have to explain more to you later, but I hope you’ll trust us enough to listen to us.”

Of course he had no other choice. Arkarine obeyed their every word on the way out, and he was surprised that they made it past the guards and through the courtyard. Freedom was just through a crack in the fortress wall, and a run through the woods away.

But this most unfortunate boy never got that far. The others were much faster than he, seeing as the injury that had left him crippled in his toddler days had never healed right, and he fell far behind.

All it took was a simple root protruding up from the ground, and he found the ground moving towards his face much slower than it normally does. Either he was experiencing his fall in slow motion, as your brain will sometimes make it seem, or the ground wasn’t holding still. Which ever way you choose to believe, the sickening crunch was enough to make him faint, let alone knock him out.

.... To be continued.