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Wesley the Blue
Member
since 1999-09-02
Posts 426
Forest Lake, MN, USA

0 posted 2003-08-28 06:13 PM


This is just a first draft of the beggining of a story I hope to finnish sometime.  Ive left out names and such for legal reasons.  Enjoy and reply.


The late evening air was chilling.  The cold fall winds cut through black suits and black dresses, carrying with it an ominous feel that something terrible was lurking just over the horizon, something mysterious and elusive.  The sun had just disappeared under the horizon barely making an appearance beneath the edge of the storm clouds that threatened overhead.  The man standing at the entrance to the stone monument spoke.  “Night has fallen, and darkness spreads over everything.  The Knight has fallen and a city mourns.  Night has fallen, and fear grips our hearts.  The Knight has fallen, and shadows creep into every corner.  Night has fallen, and a people stand around their hero’s darkened tomb without a light.”

The man then extinguished the single candle he was holding and stepped aside as a contingent of pole-bearers lifted a polished wooden casket off the marble bier at the base of the steps leading up to the entrance to the tomb.  A band in the distance picked up a mournful tune as the pole-bearers made their way up the stairs.

Lining either side of the stairs were people dressed in black.  To one side stood politicians and government officials.  On the other side stood a group of people, fewer in number but much more prominent.  They all wore the same black leather uniform with a gold X on a red background belt buckle and a black leather short jacket.  They all wore the same grim expression as they watched the casket pass before them but none shed tears.  They were too hardened to let grief show through their stoic facades.  All of them had been to a dozen similar ceremonies and knew that theirs could be the next one.

At the head of the group, near the top of the stairs was a stocky, grizzled man in his early forties.  He had wild, unkempt hair and large sideburns.  The look on his face was more feral than human.  His hands were visibly clenched, the only outward sign of a barely kept torrent of emotion.  Next to him a step down was a woman of similar age.  Her hair was red and streaked with gray.  She was as tall as the grizzled man, even though she was down a step from him.  Her demeanor was more subdued, almost resigned.  Next in line was a short slender woman with chestnut hair.  She was slightly younger than the pair above her on the stairs.  Next to her was a man no larger than she was with pointed ears and blue furry skin.  He had a tail that ended in a spade shaped point.  He looked like standing straight was an unnatural position.  The last person in line stood much taller than the two closest members of the group.  His hair was long and silver colored.  His eyes were pupil-less and white, though he acted as if he had perfect vision.  His right arm was in a sling and he was grimacing in pain.

The honor guard reached the entrance to the tomb and passed between two eternal flames on either side.  As they entered a lone trumpet began sounding taps in the distance.  Everyone in attendance turned to face the entrance of the tomb.  The police officers, firemen, paramedics, and military personal all came to attention and saluted the casket.  The non-uniformed in attendance placed a hand over their hearts.  The five wearing black leather all placed their right fist over their hearts and bowed their heards, paying their last respects to a fallen comrade.

The honor guard exited the tomb and turned towards the entrance as a large marble slab slid into place, sealing off the tomb.  With a dull thud the slab came to rest.  There was a moment of still silence after the tomb closed.  Slowly the people began to filter out of the courtyard in front of the tomb or to mill about looking at the life sized statues of the other fallen heroes buried in the tomb at the top of the steps.

The statues lined the perimeter or the courtyard.  There were a number of empty pedestals for more statues to be placed on.  Beside each bronze statue was a plaque with the name of the hero as well as a list of their deeds and accomplishments.

The redhead walked up to a statue of a man wearing a similar uniform to the one she wore.  He had a visor over his eyes and one hand placed on the side of the visor near his temple.  He seemed to be gazing up and off into the distance.  She placed her hand on the chest of the statue and bowed her head.  Anyone standing close enough would have heard her say a name “Scott” as if begging the statue to come to life.

The stocky man with wild hair moved over to the statue of a bald man seated in a wheelchair.  The eyes of the statue seemed to study whoever happened to walk by.  He looked at the statue for a moment as if silently communicating with it.  He then turned and walked over to where the redhead was and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

The slightly built woman and the blue furred man wandered the courtyard slowly together.  Stopping at some of the statues for a moment before moving on.  They said nothing to each other but seemed to be content in the silence.

The tall man with silver hair did not move from his place at the bottom of the steps.  He just stood there staring at the tomb, seemingly oblivious to anything around him.  The people milling around the tomb gave the man a wide berth when they walked by almost fearing to get within arms reach.

The silver haired man closed his eyes and a single tear fell from them.  He then threw his head back and screamed.  A pair of semi-translucent, feathery wings appeared from the man’s back, wreathed in blue flame, and a silvery breastplate emblazoned with an eagle in flight covered the black leather jacket.  As the scream trailed off the man fell to his hands and knees, breathing hard with tears falling unbidden from his pale white eyes.

The sound of his cry brought everyone in the courtyard to a halt.  There was a sharp popping noise and suddenly the blue furred man and the slightly built woman were standing near the silver haired man.  The sound of metal scrapping on metal briefly filled the courtyard and the stocky man with wild hair dashed across the courtyard towards the figure on the ground.  From beside him came a torrent of flame as a large fiery bird vaulted into the sky to land next to the others.

The wild haired man looked at the others and relaxed his muscles, causing three metal claws to retract back into his hands.  “Red,” he said to the woman engulfed in the fast fading fiery bird, “get everyone rounded up, its time we got out of here.”  He walked up to the silvery haired man and lifted him up, sliding under the man’s arm for support and led him out of the courtyard with the others following closely behind.

"The usefulness of a cup is in its emptiness, for a cup that is full can hold no more."
-Roy Suenaka

© Copyright 2003 Keith W. Mullin - All Rights Reserved
merlynh
Member
since 1999-09-26
Posts 411
deer park, wa
1 posted 2003-09-13 08:27 PM


http://suenakaaikido.tripod.com/roy_y__suenaka.htm  
Is this the person you quoted?

I'll would like to see you second draft. I am curious as to what you will cut, or rewrite.

Wesley the Blue
Member
since 1999-09-02
Posts 426
Forest Lake, MN, USA
2 posted 2003-09-14 02:20 AM


Thanks for the replay, Ive kinda been buisy with school so no second draft yet.  Yeah, I imagine thats the same guy that I got my quote from, the link doesnt work for me, but Mr. Suenaka teaches Aikido so.....
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