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Inspiring the Lost - Part Six: Inspired to Life
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Inspiring the Lost - Part Six: Inspired to Life |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration 
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Part One: /pip/Forum15/HTML/001049.html Part Two: /pip/Forum15/HTML/001061.html Part Three: /pip/Forum15/HTML/001087.html Part Four: /pip/Forum15/HTML/001116.html Part Five: /pip/Forum15/HTML/001125.html Inspiring the Lost: Part Six - Inspired to Life ©2001 C.G. Ward Coughing, now that he had something to cough up – blood – Bran eyed the wounded creature laying in much the same position as he was not a few feet away. Both wore bright gashes in their chests, traded as if they’d met in a violent market. With the back of a dirty hand, he wiped the blood away from his lips and rolled on his side. He tried to cry out, but even the sight of Mina; broken and unmoving was enough to free the constriction on his throat. The creature had smashed his windpipe. How he was still breathing, he didn’t know. What he did know, as he watched Mina, expecting her to get up at any moment, was that he had to stand himself. He had to reach the creature before it went any farther. Distantly, as if through a hazy fog, he realized that he might never know what his mother had been planning for the four of them. A moment after her tale was completed, there’d been a disturbance outside. They all had rushed to the windows to see that a wall of monsters was pouring into town. The five had backed away when a substantial group of beasts headed toward the house. Bran heard a slight moan, and rolled his eyes up and to the left. There on the ground lay Aldon. The poor boy, not much older than Bran himself was writhing in pain. From then knee down, his left leg was missing; nothing more than a memory. Bran realized the boy was losing a lot of blood, but was having a difficult time connecting his brain with his body. Nothing seem to respond, and his will to force it was fading with every beat that brought more pain to his body and despair to his heart. But one thing he’d learned – from his mother’s story of bravery, from Jonathan’s quest, Arianna’s hope, his mother’s smile – there’s more to living than quitting. He couldn’t find the logic at the moment, but his internal speech seemed to provide enough inspiration to force his legs beneath him. The sword hung heavily in his hand, heavy with blood and heavy with use. After backing away from the window, Bran’s mother had been near hysterics. It was all he and the others could do to quiet her and push her back toward the cabinet. Bran was thinking fast all the while. It was completely out of character for his mother to react like she had. But he’d had little time to mull it over. Forcing her down the stairs, and entrusting her to Johnny’s care, Bran and the other two had pushed the cabinet back into place. It slid across the hardwood floor and had thumped against the wall with a finality that seemed to remind them that they were in serious danger. Holding the silence for a brief moment, pretending everything that was happening was nothing more than a bad dream, Bran had caught his breath, had allowed himself no more than the moment before rushing the others to the back of the house. “If we have a chance at all,” he’d told them hurriedly. “It’s to get to the woods and hope we can avoid their scouts. If we split up, it shouldn’t be that bad. If by some chance we can find the men, we’ll have better luck there than alone. If one of us does find them, and the others –“ his voice had given out for a second. “And the others don’t make it, then we have to tell them where everyone is.” The other two had nodded. They were accepting him because they had nowhere else to turn. Even as he’d thought of climbing back into the cellar, Bran had reasoned that the monsters knew there were people inside. The hiding place was safe enough as long as too detailed of a search wasn’t made. By the three of them escaping through the back of the house, it might seem that all had done the same. But their time for thought had been over. With a crash like a summer storm the front door was blown in. Splinters had flown almost as far as the three of them standing in the back door, gaping at the intruders. “Go!” Bran had yelled, pushing the Mina and Aldon out the door. He was almost as frozen as they, but the dim knowledge in the back of his mind that had told him they wouldn’t move without him had prompted the action. With every breath in his body, Bran had chased after the other two. He had heard the sound of the creatures flying through the house, chasing after them. A brief glance back had shown that the creatures had accepted the ruse and weren’t even looking through the house. They had assumed that all the others had flown ahead of Bran and the two youngsters. Drag. Step. Drag. Step. Bran was next to the creature now, looking down into its fear-filled eyes. Those eyes, he noticed, were not so dissimilar from his own. They looked out through darkness much as anyone else. They showed fear, just as anyone else. Standing there, sword raised to rest limply on his shoulder, Bran wondered if those eyes were capable of showing joy. A motion drew his attention, and he saw Mina moving slightly. His heart lifted at seeing her alive. Then dropped as he realized he didn’t hear Aldon moaning anymore. Eyes filled with hatred, Bran looked down again at the monster. He felt no pity, only anger. Anger at having his life torn apart, anger at losing friends, and possibly family. Anger at the paths this day would lead others down. And with that anger, Bran simply let the sword fall from his shoulder. He no longer possessed the strength to swing it. But its own weight was sufficient to partially sever the bulbous neck of the object of his hatred. He let the sword fall from his hands and fought a battle with balance; one he felt himself in danger of losing. They had come so close. A few feet more and the three of them might have made it. Aldon had been the first to go down, his leg swept from beneath him by the screaming sword of the creature coming from the woods into the town. They’d had no idea they were heading into trouble just as much as they were running away from it. Three more charged out of the woods and Bran had met them head on, yelling at Mina to get behind him. He’d hoped that the ones that were chasing would give up in light of their other members’ stopping the group, but didn’t count on it. It was more luck than anything which had caused Bran to drop to his knees before the charging goblin and skewer it on the point of his sword. And it was inexperience that caused him to waste precious time trying to retrieve the sword. Had he had the time to think it through, he would have left it there, grabbed Mina and run into the forest. There, they might have had a chance to escape. Before he was able to pull out the sword, Mina had screamed. The surprise was enough to wrench the blade free with a sloppy noise preceding the dripping of blood on the ground. And it was the swing of turning around to see Mina falling that had caused him to both give and receive a slash to the chest. The monster had fallen on top of him, crushing his throat and rolling over to land on its back. Bran had passed out then for a moment. That might have saved his life, for when he woke, he saw the backs of several more creatures retreating from view. Apparently they had assumed he and the others dead… or at least dying. Now his only thought was to get Mina and continue on into the forest. He dropped down beside her and rolled her over. She was still breathing, but barely. No time for niceties. He slapped her. Once. Twice. Again. Eyes fluttering, she came to with a start. A single glance at Bran’s condition caused her to pale. “Bran!” He shook his head. “No time.” Keep it simple. Breathe. “Forest,” he croaked, praying that she’d understand the harsh rasping of his voice and not question. If anything else saw them… She must have heard, because next thing he knew she was helping him to stand and they were running, stumbling, for the fringe of the trees. Cautiously, they entered the darkness. Bran was sure they were making enough noise to call attention to themselves from a good distance away, but could think of no way to prevent it. They had to get away. He angled Mina toward the direction he hoped would lead to the men and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Happy now? Mina's more than introduced and has begun to play a larger part in the scheme of things.  The story's done on my part. Initially I thought it would be 6,000 words or so. Then 12,000. Well, all told before edits it went just a notch over 18,000. There are two more 'parts' following this one. As I mentioned before, I will post all the parts here. When I am done editing, I will make it available to anyone who wants it in HTML format as well as downloadable text and MS Word documents. Hope you enjoy reading. I did writing. C [This message has been edited by Christopher (edited 05-21-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 C.G. Ward - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
As always, I love your work. But this: quote: That sentence confused me. There were a couple of other spots that I felt could be tightened up, but all in all, a wonderful read!! I think this is more a novel than a story now don't you???? What are you going to do with it now? I think a publisher is in order!!  |
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Kosetsu Member
since 2001-03-10
Posts 450Alabama, USA |
This story is really coming along. I liked how this was going, however one part confused me. Where it says Bran looks over to find Aldon, and the guy's leg is gone from the knee down, it flowed too much from the previous paragraph, where you're telling what happened at the end of the last part. It sounded as if you were saying that after he saw the line of goblins heading into the town, the next thing he saw was Aldon without a leg, writhing in pain, which then complete confused when it said he was running with Bran and Mina. (i mean, how does a one-legged man run..) Anyway, despite that one flaw, I like it. -Kosetsu "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." - Shakespeare |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
Well, let's get the criticism out of the way first.. LOL, I just found two errors "He tried to cry out, but even the sight of Mina; broken and unmoving was enough to free the constriction on his throat. " Umm... Even the sight of Mina; broken and unmoving was not enough... "From then knee down, his left leg was missing; nothing more than a memory." From the knee Hey Chris.. a man with a broken windpipe has 6 minutes to live, giver or take a few.. that's how long the brain can last without oxygen. Unless Bran had a trachiectomy somewhere in the story he should be dead awfully quick. I think you need to think of a different injury, a crushed larynx or windpipe is pretty much fatal... But, other than that I like the tale. It did jump around a bit, but I didn't have any problems following what was going on. It had that disjointed, chaotic feel, just like a battle should and I liked it. I'll be waiting for the next two parts, sir "There's nowhere to set my aim |
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