Dean
Run
Friday 14 June 2013
Thankyou
I am getting more page views everyday, which is great. I would like to remind you that commenting on posts is not only great for me, but fantastic for you, it can generate more traffic to your blogs and if you do comment, I will look at your blog, and leave a comment. I have also started a google plus community called "Blovels" for fellow blovelers like me. Take a look and join if you want to advertise you own blog. Until next time,
Chapter 2
Just because I am bored, I will publish this. This is the last of the stuff that I had prewritten so the next chapters may take longer, but holidays are around the corner so you can expect some big installments that reveal some of the mysteries posed in the first chapter, but not too many. Hope you are enjoying this, here is the complete chapter 2. It is quite a short one.
She stared at the ceiling. She watched as the colours
swirled and disappeared, then reappeared without warning. It was like this
every night, the same dream, over and over again. She always woke a little
further on in the dream than last time. It disturbed her, the things that she
was seeing. There were people with powers getting chased by people with guns.
It was like Harry Potter crossed with GI Joe.
She could see the dark eyes of the shooters, as they shot down the
others. There was no mercy. She was forced to watch as one man shot another in
the back. She saw the blood spray out from him as he collapsed in a heap. The
shooter didn’t stop, he just moved on to the next victim as blood started to
pool around the body of the man. These
was not the dreams of a 12 year old girl, these were the dreams of a madman.
She turned over trying to get back to sleep. But no sleep came. It never did
come. So as the sun rose from the horizon, the bags were already present under
her eyes and Stella rose for another normal day. But this day was going to be
anything but normal.
I was woken by a red flashing light. The last thing I
remembered was climbing into the helicopter. I tried to stand, but stumbled and
fell back on to the bed. I rubbed my pounding head. Where was I? With the
little illumination that the light gave off, I could see four walls and a door.
I managed to get to my feet and stumbled towards the door. I tried to turn the
handle but it was locked. Why was I locked in? I had been saved from that awful
place, just to be locked up again. This cell had even less. There were four
concrete walls that were as cold as ice and a small bed in the centre of the
room. The door was made of steel, too strong to penetrate. Why? Why was I
locked up? I thought I was safe, I had gotten out. Had I somehow been captured
again? I continually turned the thoughts over in my mind, but one answer kept
coming up. What if I wasn’t being saved from that building, what if I was being
stolen? What if there was no-one that wanted to help me?
Stella was sitting at her desk when it happened. There was
no warning, the windows just smashed inwards and the door was torn off its
hinges. Everyone dropped to the floor. Armed people in khaki uniforms came in
waving guns around and checking faces. One got to her. The woman looked into
her face. “Here” she called to the others. They crowded around murmuring
“that’s her” and “she’s the one”. Her friends started crying out her name as
she was dragged kicking and screaming out the classroom door. Stella was thrown
into the back of a van. She felt something sharp pierce the skin near her neck
before she blacked out.
The girl was thrown into the cell in my second hour. She
looked scared, that’s probably how I looked. She didn’t speak for the first
hour, in fact, she was completely silent. Then the sobbing began, which then
turned into crying and then into screaming.
She was a lot younger than me, maybe 2 or 3 years and had pale skin,
beautiful blonde hair that flowed down her back and bright blue eyes. She was
sitting in the corner, near the door. Why was she here? More still, how was I
going to escape? I sat down, running through the events of the previous day.
Was it even the next day? I may only have been out for a few hours. But that
wasn’t important. Something was missing, something important. It hit me, the
hard drive was gone. I, once again, was trapped with no lead.
Chapter 1: Part C
I
looked hopelessly around the empty roof. There was no sight of any life
outside, no chance of any help. I heard a noise behind the door and turned in
time to see it burst open and at least 10 armed guards emerge. I got on my
knees and dropped the hard drive. I put my hands behind my head in defeat. It
was over. I had been caught. One of the
guards put his pistol back in his holster and retrieved a pair of
handcuffs. He went behind me and locked
my wrists together and hauled me to my feet.
I started walking towards the stairs, back down to my cell, when I felt
a large hand on my back and was shoved forward. The ground came rushing forward
and, unable to use my hands to stop my fall, my head came down onto the concrete
with a sickening thud. I head the
distant laughs of the guards, but was unable to concentrate over the throbbing
of my nose. There was a crash as the door burst open and gunshots were fired. I
wanted to roll on my back and watch what was happening but I didn’t dare move.
There were more thuds as the bodies of the guards slumped to the ground. There
was silence, then, the sound of footsteps approaching. They stopped for a
second, and then continued along with the jangling sounds of keys. I felt hands
at my wrists as the handcuffs were unlocked. I pushed myself up off the ground
and onto my feet. I looked eyes into the bright blue eyes of a soldier in a
khaki coloured uniform. He had greying
hair but was still very fit. Before I could assess him more I heard the sound
of an engine. Looked down at the ground,
but saw nothing. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see the man
pointing to the sky. I turned and realised that the noise was coming from a
chopper. As it neared, a ladder dropped
down, which looked flimsy at best. When the helicopter was hovering above the
roof the soldier moved towards it and started climbing. I had no idea who these
people were but they had just saved my life. I wiped my nose, and saw the
amount of blood that was streaming out. I needed medical attention, and whoever
these people were, they seemed to have training, and would most likely have a
medical kit on-board. I bent down and picked up the hard drive and hurried to
the ladder and started climbing. I was barely halfway up when the helicopter
started moving. I quickly finished the climb and slumped into one of the
chairs. I attached my seatbelt and held on to the hard drive, my only link to
my previous self. I hope.
Thursday 13 June 2013
Chapter 1: Part B
Not quite as long as the first one, but it is still another paragraph. Please tell me your thoughts about writing in both first and third person or whether it should be completely in third.
6:27 am
Private Brian was struggling to keep his eyes
open. He hated when he was given nightshift on a boring job. They had been
watching this location for over a month, the upper ranks were convinced that
there was something worth their valuable time. He was just about to start
packing up his equipment for the end of his shift when he saw a commotion on
the roof. He peered through his binoculars and saw a kid looking around
frantically. Brian quickly moved to his Modular Sniper Rifle and looked through
his scope. The kid looked no older than 17. He looked like he had been starved
for months and was pale. The thing that stood out the most though, was the
scared look on his face. The look was of utter terror and Brian had seen
nothing like it, not even on the faces of men who knew they were about to die.
Brian made the decision to help the boy. He grabbed his Adaptive Combat Rifle
off of the ground and started to run towards the building. He reached the
building in under a minute because of his fitness and agility training. He
stopped just outside the door. He pulled his radio from his belt and tuned into
the right channel. He pressed the button and spoke loud and clearly into the
speaker. “Private Brian, Project 6, Movement on roof, requesting helicopter,
over”. He put his radio back into his belt. He drew his pistol and entered the
room. The ground floor was a reception room. The desks were marble lined with
gold, on a varnished wood floor. The doors were the same colour as the floor,
and had a golden doorknob. The receptionist’s reaction was expected. Seeing an
armed man walk into their workplace always caused panic and fear. Brian warned them not to activate an alarm of
any sort. He ran quickly to the fire escape door and ran up. He didn’t bother
to check the rooms on the way up, he just sprinted to the top of the stairs.
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Tuesday 11 June 2013
Chapter 1 : Part A
6:12 am
I couldn’t stay any longer. I had to get out before they
came back, whoever they were. I couldn’t
do the things that they want me to do or tell them the things they want to know,
and when I remained silent they hurt me trying to get an answer. I didn’t know
anything, not even who he was. My first memory is of me getting thrown into
this cell wearing a tattered grey shirt and grey shorts. I was locked up in an
old, square cell made out of cement just below the ground. The only source of
light in the room was an old light bulb hanging from the roof that was blinking
out every few seconds. The wall to the left of the door had a bed, if it could
be called that. The bed was a solid concrete slab rising up out of the ground
and it stopped at knee height and had a paper thin mattress on top. I hadn’t
been able to sleep the first few nights that I was here. There was a constant
dripping sound from behind the wall near my bed. The air tasted foul and I
often vomited. The smell was putrid and when I first came in I thought that I
might pass out. The smell didn’t bother me now, though. I was tall for my age
and my feet hung right off the edge. I had been starved almost to death, eating
less than a dog would, and my once muscular body had started to wear away to
skin stretched tight over my bones. I had no idea how long I had been here but
I would imagine it would have been at least 2 months. But I had a plan. I was
ready. I could hear the guard snoring. The guard was a short man; he was bald
with a wrinkled face and was in his late forties. I had often heard the other
guards that walk past call him Michael but the name didn’t suit the man so I
decided to call him Barry. He didn’t seem to like that but I called him it
anyway. He had often come close to punching me but he stopped as just before he
swung. That was when I realised that they needed me alive and unharmed. I walked
up to the old, sturdy iron door and looked through the keyhole. In the little light
on the other side I could make out the guard. He was sitting on a chair with
his head leaning against the wall and his gun was on his lap. I had to be
careful; I would only get one chance. ‘Hey’ I said in a quiet voice. Was I
really ready to do this? ‘Hey’. The guard snapped out of his sleep and was on
his feet in seconds, until he realised it was me talking.
‘You’ he said in a gruff voice
‘I need to go to the bathroom’
‘Fine’ he said.
I could sense the annoyance in his voice. I
had to be careful of the words I used. If I tipped him over the edge he might
decide to lock me in my cell, and that would be the end of my plan. As he led
me to the bathroom I surveyed my surroundings, the whole complex was a maze of
cells and it would be hard to navigate through hem even with a map. The rest of
the cells looked a lot like mine but were unused. I was the only prisoner. It was a quick walk to the bathroom. The
bathroom was a sterile white and looked like it was cleaned every morning. I
walked into the small cubicle and the door was locked behind me. I could see
the guard’s feet under the door. He was standing in front of the cubicle facing
it to make sure that I didn’t escape.
Perfect, that was just how I had planned. I turned towards the toilet bowl and lifted
the lid. I was nervous now so I actually needed to pee. This was good in a way
because the guard would hear and believe there was nothing wrong, and then came
the disgusting part. I dipped my hand into the bowl and scooped the yellowed
water up. I stood there building up courage but by the time I was ready the
water had slipped through my hands. I scooped up the water again and shoved it
straight into my mouth without a thought. The taste was vile and every cell in
my brain kept telling me to spit it out but I couldn’t. I put my hand back into
the bowl and scooped up more water and shoved that into my mouth to. I repeated
this until my mouth was full, flushed the toilet and turned towards the door. I
heard a grunt from the guard that sounded like “finally”. The guard opened the
door and made me walk out. He walked
around me and turned to face me, getting ready to do a search to see if I was
holding anything I shouldn’t be. He bent over and patted me down. When he stood
up he stared at my face. I realised that this was the moment. I spat the yellow
water into his face. He doubled over and I sprinted past. I came out and ran
left, away from my cell. I had only made it a couple of steps before red lights
started flashing and a siren was being played over the loudspeakers. The guard
must have recovered and triggered and emergency alarm. I didn’t have much
time. I ran forwards and came to a
crossroad hat was on a 45 degree angle.
There was a path leading to the right went back the way I had come and
the path to the left continued forward. Without thinking I turned right. I ran
a few hundred metres and came to a stop at a dead end. I was about to turn back
when I head guards talking back at the crossroad. I jumped into a cell and ran
to the back. I ran to the back of the cell and started pounding at the bars.
These bars were more rusted than the ones in the cell I had been staying in. It
was no use. I turned towards the door
and walked out of the cell. The guards ran up and tackled me to the ground.
When the guards got off me I stood up and put my hands into the air. I fell
down and my head hit the ground hard. I seemed to be floating in nothing. No,
not floating but falling. I looked to where a thought down was and saw a vast
blue rushing towards me. The ocean, but how did I get here? I had nothing to
break the surface tension and falling from here would be like falling on a slab
of cement. I tried to scream but I couldn’t make a sound. I smashed into the
water. I know that most, if not all, of my bones should be broken but I can’t
feel any pain. I thrashed about trying to surface, but I only succeeded in
making a lot of noise. I was going to drown in the middle of the ocean. I
blinked and suddenly I was back into the prison building, right in front of a
flight of stairs. I did not question how I got back but bolted up the stairs
hoping that it would lead to an exit. I ran up one level and peeked through the
door. It was a lobby. The marble desks and gold plating made it obvious that
his captors were rich, and they liked showing off. There was a door, only 10
metres from where I stood but it was guarded. I started to think about what I
would do if I got out. I had no money, no food, no water and nowhere to stay. I
had to stay here. I had to find the stuff that I came here with because it
might jog my memory or there may be clues as to where to go next. The stairs continued up so I stated going up.
I peeked into the next room. There was
no-one in this room. I decided there was no harm in looking in here. The room
was an office. There were little cubicles with barely enough desk space to
work. Most of the cubicles were filled with photos of family and friends and as
I walked pass I stepped into a cubicle. There was an expensive computer sitting
on the desk. The screen was off but the light on the tower was flashing. I hit
the power button for the screen. It slowly came to life and displayed a Word
document. I scanned through it quickly, looking for clues on what this place
was. I finished the document with no more idea as when I started. I turned the
screen off and left the cubicle. I doubted anyone here would know that I was
even in the building, let alone why I was here. I left that floor and headed
up. The second floor was the same layout as the first and held more empty
cubicles. This continued up until the ninth floor. This seemed to be the top
level. There was a small area before a big wall cut through the room. There
were chairs at either side of the room and the same marble and gold was
present. There was also some wood incorporated into the room. There was a door
made out of wood and frosted glass with a gold-plated doorhandle. I reached out
and grabbed the handle. I pushed down and found, to my surprise, that the door
opened. I pushed inwards slowly, trying not to make a sound. I peeked in and
saw that the room was empty. I stepped in and noticed the silence. There were
no alarms going up here and it felt strange. There was an elaborate marble desk
with a high end touch-screen computer on top. I hit the power button and the
screen sprung to life. Someone had been
using this computer and logged off, but I only needed the password to get back
in. I tried “Password” and the computer unlocked. I opened up” My Computer” and
went straight to the personal files. These were the files that could only be
accessed by this computer, so I believe that this is where secrets would be
kept. I was searching through the files when I heard people running up the
stairs. I still hadn’t found anything and I was about to get caught and thrown
back into the cell. I had to leave now. I was about to run, but then I
remembered about after I got out and pulled the hard drive out. It would be a
start to finding out who I was. I run out of the room and into the stairwell.
The noises were closer now and I could hear voices. I turned and sprinted up
the stairs. I was going the wrong way! I went up and found the end of the
stairs. I burst through the door and looked around. I was standing on the roof
of a building in the middle of the desert. I was trapped.
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