Writing: Sheltmire's Stories
I love it when right as I'm about to go to sleep, writing inspiration hits me upside the head like a brick.
This evening, I downloaded music by Jon Sheltmire, and found it so inspiring that I wrote a handful of drabbles loosely based on each as I listened to a number of his songs.
These are unedited eta: edited a TINY bit now that I'm awake again, and were written in only the time span of the length of each song.
No Turning Back
She stood at the top of the hill, wind whipping her hair across her face as she looked down at the shimmering lights of walled city below. She knew the longer she stayed still the more her chances of being caught increased, but she needed one last glimpse of the prison-city she'd never thought she would escape from. Hatred swelled within her as she stared, her hand tightening around the knife at her hip. She turned away from the sight and set into a light run across the plains, not knowing what kind of dangers lie ahead of her. But anything would be better than the city she'd regrettably called home for all those years.
Rise of the Spiders
He jolted awake, his body frozen in terror. What was that sound? His eyes darted around, but were useless to him in this pitch darkness. There! He heard the sound again, louder and closer this time. A scuttling, scraping sound. What the hell was it? Slowly and as silently as possible he rose, heart hammering in his chest as the sound, now constant, came closer and closer to him. Scratching and scraping and some sort of rhythmic tapping. He readied himself to bolt for the door, but before he could move, a giant creature dropped from the ceiling, it's eight spindly legs wrapping around him as his body was encased in something hard and sticky.
The sound of his screams were swiftly muffled.
The Belly Dancer
The smell and smoke of incense filled the tent in much the same way as the jingle of belts made of coins and bells filled his ears. The dancers were exotic and beautiful, but the girl in the middle... She possessed such an dark, ethereal beauty he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Her smokey eyes teased him from above her white face veil. She moved purposefully toward him, her hips rolling elegantly and seductively. The other dancers were moving to the other men in the room as well, but he couldn't focus on anything but her. His head spun as she drew near her, the strange smell of whatever shimmering oils annointed her dark skin intoxicating him and blocking out even the thick incense. She placed her hands on his shoulders and murmured something in a tongue he didn't understand. He was drowning in her gaze, and he didn't notice when she removed the veil until her blood red lips were on his. He moaned into her mouth as she nipped his lip, and was completely lost to her when her arms went around his shoulders. Something in him suddenly felt terrified, but it was far too late to do anything now. He gave himself up to her, and didn't even scream when her beautiful razor-sharp teeth began to eat the flesh off his face.
The Garden of Delights
Fruit hung heavy from the trees branches and the scented breeze carried music on it. The very air shimmered with magic and wonder. Everything was good and right and beautiful here. A full-figured woman sat atop a small hill in the very middle, her thick, wavy hair covering her nude figure. A slender man approached her and asked something of her, but she would not listen to his words. He asked again, demanding this time, and still she refused him. Outraged, he asked a third time, and she turned to him with a serene face and a furious tone and requested he take his leave.
As he stormed off, he gestured wildly with his hand, sending his magic to burn the place to ashes. The woman just closed her eyes and smiled, then cast her hand out at him. Instead of her garden, it was he who burst into flame.
Valley of the Barbarians
A storm rumbled in the distance as they gathered around the granite slab in the middle of the dusty valley. A young boy stood in the center of the slab, naked but for the red paint adorning his body in ancient patterns, and his hair caked into thick messy strands with the same red paint. The group circled around the slab and began to chant. Thunder rumbled in the hills, closer now, and sounding like war drums. Their chanting increased. The wind howled through the valley, kicking up dust clouds, but still the chanting continued. Intricate hand gestures and dances passed down through the generations joined the chanting as the sky broke open above them and began to flood the valley with rain. At the climax of the chanting, the boy's head shot back in a scream, and a column of white light shot up from his mouth, piercing through the clouds above, and his body was engulfed in white flame.
Archimedes Death Ray
Dark clouds had been gathering in the sky for weeks now, blocking out the sun and the moon and the stars. Most knew this as a terrible omen and spent their days in prayer or preparation, doing their best to ready themselves for the worst. And some spent their days preparing for the glory they knew their Lord would bring them, sharpening their dark blades in wicked anticipation.
But elsewhere in the world, a small group of weary anti-heroes sat around a dying campfire in silence. The sun wouldn't be visible in the sky come morning, but they would know the new day's beginning, and they would pack up their belongings and run head-first into a destiny none of them had ever wanted.
Gunslinger
The clock tower in the center of town began to strike midnight, and the full moon above shone down on the dirty streets. A man in a long, white trenchcoat and a white hat that hid his face stood back to back with a girl with hair as dark and wild as the sky above them and leather clothing to match. They counted off their steps away from each other as frightened onlookers peered out windows at them. As the wind blew a cloud over the moon and the clock rang out it's twelfth chime, two gunshots went off and one body fell to the ground.
Lemme know what you guys think of them?
note to self: fix up writing journal and start posting there again
This evening, I downloaded music by Jon Sheltmire, and found it so inspiring that I wrote a handful of drabbles loosely based on each as I listened to a number of his songs.
These are unedited eta: edited a TINY bit now that I'm awake again, and were written in only the time span of the length of each song.
No Turning Back
She stood at the top of the hill, wind whipping her hair across her face as she looked down at the shimmering lights of walled city below. She knew the longer she stayed still the more her chances of being caught increased, but she needed one last glimpse of the prison-city she'd never thought she would escape from. Hatred swelled within her as she stared, her hand tightening around the knife at her hip. She turned away from the sight and set into a light run across the plains, not knowing what kind of dangers lie ahead of her. But anything would be better than the city she'd regrettably called home for all those years.
Rise of the Spiders
He jolted awake, his body frozen in terror. What was that sound? His eyes darted around, but were useless to him in this pitch darkness. There! He heard the sound again, louder and closer this time. A scuttling, scraping sound. What the hell was it? Slowly and as silently as possible he rose, heart hammering in his chest as the sound, now constant, came closer and closer to him. Scratching and scraping and some sort of rhythmic tapping. He readied himself to bolt for the door, but before he could move, a giant creature dropped from the ceiling, it's eight spindly legs wrapping around him as his body was encased in something hard and sticky.
The sound of his screams were swiftly muffled.
The Belly Dancer
The smell and smoke of incense filled the tent in much the same way as the jingle of belts made of coins and bells filled his ears. The dancers were exotic and beautiful, but the girl in the middle... She possessed such an dark, ethereal beauty he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Her smokey eyes teased him from above her white face veil. She moved purposefully toward him, her hips rolling elegantly and seductively. The other dancers were moving to the other men in the room as well, but he couldn't focus on anything but her. His head spun as she drew near her, the strange smell of whatever shimmering oils annointed her dark skin intoxicating him and blocking out even the thick incense. She placed her hands on his shoulders and murmured something in a tongue he didn't understand. He was drowning in her gaze, and he didn't notice when she removed the veil until her blood red lips were on his. He moaned into her mouth as she nipped his lip, and was completely lost to her when her arms went around his shoulders. Something in him suddenly felt terrified, but it was far too late to do anything now. He gave himself up to her, and didn't even scream when her beautiful razor-sharp teeth began to eat the flesh off his face.
The Garden of Delights
Fruit hung heavy from the trees branches and the scented breeze carried music on it. The very air shimmered with magic and wonder. Everything was good and right and beautiful here. A full-figured woman sat atop a small hill in the very middle, her thick, wavy hair covering her nude figure. A slender man approached her and asked something of her, but she would not listen to his words. He asked again, demanding this time, and still she refused him. Outraged, he asked a third time, and she turned to him with a serene face and a furious tone and requested he take his leave.
As he stormed off, he gestured wildly with his hand, sending his magic to burn the place to ashes. The woman just closed her eyes and smiled, then cast her hand out at him. Instead of her garden, it was he who burst into flame.
Valley of the Barbarians
A storm rumbled in the distance as they gathered around the granite slab in the middle of the dusty valley. A young boy stood in the center of the slab, naked but for the red paint adorning his body in ancient patterns, and his hair caked into thick messy strands with the same red paint. The group circled around the slab and began to chant. Thunder rumbled in the hills, closer now, and sounding like war drums. Their chanting increased. The wind howled through the valley, kicking up dust clouds, but still the chanting continued. Intricate hand gestures and dances passed down through the generations joined the chanting as the sky broke open above them and began to flood the valley with rain. At the climax of the chanting, the boy's head shot back in a scream, and a column of white light shot up from his mouth, piercing through the clouds above, and his body was engulfed in white flame.
Archimedes Death Ray
Dark clouds had been gathering in the sky for weeks now, blocking out the sun and the moon and the stars. Most knew this as a terrible omen and spent their days in prayer or preparation, doing their best to ready themselves for the worst. And some spent their days preparing for the glory they knew their Lord would bring them, sharpening their dark blades in wicked anticipation.
But elsewhere in the world, a small group of weary anti-heroes sat around a dying campfire in silence. The sun wouldn't be visible in the sky come morning, but they would know the new day's beginning, and they would pack up their belongings and run head-first into a destiny none of them had ever wanted.
Gunslinger
The clock tower in the center of town began to strike midnight, and the full moon above shone down on the dirty streets. A man in a long, white trenchcoat and a white hat that hid his face stood back to back with a girl with hair as dark and wild as the sky above them and leather clothing to match. They counted off their steps away from each other as frightened onlookers peered out windows at them. As the wind blew a cloud over the moon and the clock rang out it's twelfth chime, two gunshots went off and one body fell to the ground.
Lemme know what you guys think of them?
note to self: fix up writing journal and start posting there again