Revelation Chapter one?
Nov 12, 2010 12:40:07 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2010 12:40:07 GMT -8
This is a thrid re-write of a novel that originally started of as Brush Blade, but after realising it sounded way to tacky, I changed the name and first plot.
It is in 1st person to a fiftenn year old teenager who has an unknown but lethal illness. This first novel is him recapping over his life and how he changed from being a rich snob to a generous and open-hearted character.
I may or may not change his name, I have had 30+ people take a survey on forums and Asgard seems to be winning, with Gabriel and some other name coming up behind.
Anyway, I'm looking for good criticism (I'm not telling you to just be nice, tell me what I could add or fix or take away, just don't be hurtfull, I'm very unstable XD) Enjoy if you will, not everyone will like it, and thats a fact!
I had always thought that my own rigorous beliefs had been challenged in the pass few weeks, with my memory being cut off whenever something weird happened, whenever I asked questions on mum. But now, here and sitting in my bed with a life support wired up to me, I am starting to question my own… cynicism of religion. My questionable naivety that these phenomenal stories could all be somehow real, but not these trendy religions, not these new adaptations of inspired stories.
My father is called Shini. It means death in Japanese. He is part Japanese, so am I. My auntie on my mothers side, Inari. She has the ears of a fox… and myself? I have golden eyes. And let me tell you, that isn’t received well by normal people. People like you. But in spite of all that, there are people (well, I wouldn’t call them people) like me, that are eager to see me dead and gone. Who knows, in the next twenty-four hours my diagnosis will be back, and I might be dieing. Dead at just barely fifteen years old. Imagine how that must feel… the terror, the anxiety, the stress. To be honest, I don’t feel it. Of course, that may just by all those shitty painkillers coursing through my body causing me to be pushed into this euphoria. I guess Inari just wanted to be kind to me, like usual, although being on a potential death bed really isn't the place to be high.
I really should be figuring out how to say good bye to my family, or...what's left of it. My auntie and my father. Then it's just me. Lonely old me. Maybe father would finally take me to my mother's grave, maybe he'd tell me just about everything I want to know finally. All I know is that the next few days are going to be hell once I recover from this drug-induced high. My apprehensive state would settle back in, consume me. This iniquity is cruel. Its worse than the thought of death itself. If I’m going to die, then kill me already. Spare me the wait. I don’t want to die in agony. I’d rather have a hole blown into my head than that.
I will just lay here, listening to my clock tick, my countdown to life. I have noticed my father becoming more and more unstable. He’s been arguing with Inari; that never happens. He’s almost suffocated me numerous times while giving me ‘supportive’ hugs. He’s been trying to tell me that everything’s going to be aright. If it was going to be alright, then I wouldn’t be wired up to a life support, would I?
I guess now is the right time for a flashback.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I was never really one to understand how to start a tale, even if it is a tale of my own life. I have to be honest, my life has been a rollercoaster for years, even before I moved to Newquay here in England. I never expected it to be so sunny if I tell the truth. In fact, it was almost as hot as Greece (my original home). I had been very sceptic of moving actually, I never liked the idea, but my father insisted on going, because he wanted me to go to a specific school in the country. I had no idea at the time just how much I needed to go there, just who ran it and why. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’ve guessed right. From everything I ever over heard, I still don’t have enough information to figure out precisely what my father and is, and what exactly I am.
My name is Asgard, by the way. Strange, I know. Just like the rest of my family… I think, anyway.
I was naïve before now, a typical teenager. I thought the entire world revolved around me, and only me. I didn’t care what anyone else thought. My father had tried hard to try and convince me I wasn’t the only thing that mattered. Of course, I never listened to him at all. Now I can say I regret it. Being selfish and crude. I never really knew what I was doing. I must have gotten under the skin of many people I meet in my younger days. I would never have even realised what kind of change I’d undergo.
This story starts six months ago, driving toward my new house on the outskirts of Newquay. I can’t really explain the events that took place that day, or even what it was exactly. They were so bizarre I cannot begin to fathom what I was getting into.
My father had transferred his Bentley GTZ over seas with us, and it was obvious why. We were a rich family, my father worked in Government issues; foreign quarrels and weaponry. Not the most attractive job, but it certainly put more than food on the table. I think that might have been why I was so uptight. I had everything I could ever want.
I was still miserable about moving, I detested it. I wanted to be back in our enormous mansion in Greece. Swimming pool, gym, games room, music studio, all of it. I never used most of it though. It was something I just wanted.
Being away from it all irritated me; I wouldn’t even talk to my own father. He was the only person there to talk to anyway, which must have been uncomfortable throughout the entire flight, not being able to talk to anyone. I was hell-bent on keeping this awkward silence up.
“Az, I know you are annoyed about moving, but I really need you here, its for your own good,” my father finally spoke, sending undue frustration into my mind. I kept silent. He could moan and whine all he wanted, I wouldn’t speak to him, not then.
“Cheer up, Asgard, there’s a beach here you know. I heard it’s one of the most famous in the UK,” he continued, clearly straining to say something of interest. Seriously, he was my dad he didn’t know just how stubborn I could be at times. It would take more than that to get me to talk. I was pissed. I really hated it here; the gray scenery as we crossed into the boarder of Cornwall. If it had been a pleasant day then it would have been a lot nicer to look at. Unfortunately it had happened to be the middle of winter and it was not very welcoming outside. Like an old play park which hadn’t been tended to for years.
Dad sighed as we sped up, nearing seventy as we headed down the motorway towards Newquay bay. The moors passed like a blanket rolling grass, two large hills in the distance a few lakes dotted around the edge of the road. It was like a desert. Nothing interesting to look at. I would have been happier shooting myself in the foot. The moors were somewhat famous around this part of England. If this was so, I would have spared myself the displeasure of seeing the other areas of this miserable country.
I could not stand to look at the moors for much longer. It was so mind-numbingly boring, how did people find this interesting?
I groaned and leaned back into the leather chair, fiddling with my seatbelt and flicking through the CD rack. I didn’t feel like music, nothing at all, which was rare for me. I slammed it back into the glove box and put my feet up on the dash board, which dad promptly scolded me for.
“Get your feet of the dash board, Asgard! I’ll have you clean it otherwise!” he snapped.
I sighed and dragged my feet of the dash board, trying not to be irritating. I began to tap on the window, I had felt like I was in purgatory. It was almost hell.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it if I’m bored!” I retaliated with a heavy dose of sarcasm. I knew dad hated me being sarcastic, it wound him up and made my day a lot more appealing. I smiled to myself, looking away from dad. I could almost see his reaction!
“Azzy, please, just realise that for once you aren’t the most important thing in the world,”
My father answered back. He was a tough cookie.
Wait… that was not how he usually reacted! He usually went berserk and started shouting at me. I guess he felt it was time he made me change; I was being out of hand most of the time. Running around and making a mess which he had to clean up. He did it without any complaints up until he decided to move. Then he went super-discipline on me and started making me do house chores and jobs. At the time it had been a nightmare. It was something I refused to do. I would not put up with it! At least that what I thought at the time. A stubborn mule who didn’t do much for others. A proper ponse.
I looked up at him and cringed. He had really changed in the past six hours.
“What are you saying? You always used to tell me I was the most precious thing you had, and now you change all of that?!” I had almost yelled, raising my voice in shock. At the time I really wasn’t a good thinker. I never listened, I did what I wanted when I wanted. It was something I had in my blood.
“Yes, I know Az, but that’s for me, for others you don’t even exist, for many you will remain unknown,” dad replied, looking on as we turned off for Newquay Bay. He slowed down, stopping at traffic lights. Damn I had always gotten impatient with those things. Flickering lights were my pet hate moreover.
I crossed my arms and looked out the window. It was much more appealing around here, more trees and more vegetation all around, although most of the trees were leafless. I had no idea how fast it went from barren boredom land to this. It would be splendid in the summer, although I tried hard not to think about it, make myself as irritated as possible to wind dad up.
I had intended to drag this out for as long as possible.
Dad gasped and pushed me to the floor, unfastening my seatbelt, “stay down!”
I grudgingly followed his orders. Something in his voice scared me, made me want to crawl and hide away. I knew I could not take a look outside. I was to scared, I didn’t know what was waiting for me. Dad never gave those kind of orders without meaning something terrible.
I heard nothing but silence as dad got out of the car. The he went the boot, unzipped something and next thing I know I hear a beautiful clicking sound; the sound of a gun being cocked. I loved that noise, but why was dad pulling out a gun?
Next thing I know there is gigantic scream, something new, something strange, something not human. Then the screams began, the sound of gunfire filled the air. I covered my ears in an attempt to drown out the horrifying sounds, the thudding footsteps, the screams the guns. I close my eyes, but it just makes things worse. I imagined the worse, I cannot recall what I was imagining, but all I knew was that it wasn’t nice.
Next thing I knew, I heard dad’s voice. He wasn’t calling, he wasn’t talking, he was screaming. I had to. I had to look, I needed to know what was going on!
I forced myself to look over the dashboard, my breath hitched in my throat. I had no idea what I was seeing, all I knew was that it wasn’t after my dad.
It had to be eight foot tall, with a hunched back a vicious spikes protruding from its shoulders, with a short Pitbull nose and a huge bulky build, four ferocious ram-like horns curling from the back of its head, razor fangs snapping together with every move, obviously a broken jaw.
Its skin was scales, dark red and brown. It looked like a demon from hell.
Were the hell was dad. I kicked open the door of the car and clambered out. I had no idea what had come over me, I just stood and ran toward the monster, unaware of what I could actually do. My heart froze, my mind went blank, I had no control, no emotion, no feeling. I didn’t even have the capacity to ask myself what was going on. I leaped toward the creature in complete silence.
Then my mind goes blank, and my memory remains empty.
When I finally open my eyes, I’m in hospital, my dad sitting beside the bed. I didn’t understand, nor did I want to. I was weak, drained, and dizzy. I had no idea what happened, all I knew was that this was the beginning of something extraordinary.
