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'nightmare'

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#1
Hyena.

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This is Azrael's winning entry for the Element List creative writing competition. Congratulations, Azrael!


Setting:...........................Forbidden Zone
Plot:................................Your Worst Nightmare
Narrative Device:...............Wrecked Weapon
Hero:...............................Failure Knight
Villain:..............................Blond Guys Are Evil
Character As Device:..........Evil Orphan
Characterization Device:......Guilt Complex

[Kalen is around 21 years old, by the way.]

Word count: 3,018. <--- I went a little over, I hope that's alright.

Working title: Nightmares.

~*~

A little boy was playing, running in a large meadow, wildflowers surrounded him. His hair streamed out behind him, glinting in the warm sun. Sweet laughter sprinkled the flowers as it bubbled from his mouth ricocheting through the field and beyond. A little way off, blue birds were singing in the trees. A smile spread on his young face, his pale eyes glinting happily. He skidded to a halt, bouncing on his feet he as looked around at the trees and flowers, feeling the warm sun on his face and arms. He hummed to himself before crouching down and starting to thread flowers into a chain.

~*~

Kalen woke in a cold sweat, gasping; his skin was clammy and cold to the touch. It was pitch black, he was surrounded by night; smothered in its blanket. He reached over to his sword and felt thin air, there was nothing there. Sitting up, he threw of his cover and looked around. He couldn’t see anything, not the worn wooden walls or the creaky wooden floor of the room he’d rented; he couldn’t even feel the rough mattress beneath him. He warily stood up, turning round and round, trying to glimpse something; to discern some form of light or life. Feeling dizzy he collapsed on thin air, there was so sense of direction; no up or down, no left or right; nothing. Something pulled at him; a black vertigo clawed at his heart. He screamed but no sound came out; it was lost in the nothingness. And then, he was falling.

~*~

The little boy was sitting in the field, wildflower chains surrounding him. The sun shone brightly, even though hours had passed. He hummed to himself, diligently working. There was something in the air, something different, something that didn’t belonging, a tangy sent that drove away some and drew others nearer. The boy ignored this, intent on his play. A bird squawked, turning it head this way and that, it wriggled, dislodging some loose feathers, a flare of blue and white on the pink and greens of the meadow. The bird struggled as it tried to escape from the thin rope wrapped tightly around it. The boy slowly turned his attention to the bird, a grin large on his face. A flash of scarlet appeared, soaking the wildflower chains, strengthening the metallic stench. The boy giggled with delight as he slowly cut something open; fiddling around with its insides. The birds were singing no more.

~*~

Kalen tumbled through nothing, a chill crept up his spine; another scream struggled and died in his sore throat. He was here again, here were he didn’t want to be; where he’d forbidden his waking mind to go. So instead, it haunted his dreams, lancing through his subconscious at his unprotected soul. ‘The mind is a tricky place, boy, hone it too much and you’ll cut yourself.’ Tears glistened in the corner of his pale eyes, sparkling in the impenetrable darkness. With a sudden lurch he fell faster, his hands clawed at the black surrounding him, desperate to stop the free fall but catching nothing but air. He closed his haunted eyes, resigned to his fate.

~*~

The boy whistled as his skipped down the street and through the gate to his house. Clean wildflower chains hung on his arms. Smiling he opened the front door, to be welcomed home with the smell of bread baking and meat cooking, drifting into the entrance hall from the large kitchen. Shutting the wooden door softly behind him, he tiptoed down the hall, past the wooden stairs and turned to his right; peering into the warm kitchen. His mother was roasting meat, keeping a careful eye on the stove, ready to yank the bread out at a moment’s notice. His sister was in the corner with flour in her light brown hair, she finished washing the vegetables and fruit she’d gathered from the garden and began chopping them up.

“Where have you been?” He mother asked, her attention fixed on what she was doing. How she’d known he was there he didn’t know. His sister glanced over at him and stuck her tongue out at him; he stuck his out in return.

“Playing.” He said smiling, “I brought you both a present.” He said holding up the chains, before placing them on a rectangular wooden table in the corridor. He then washed his hands and moved to help his sister. His mother smiled, he eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Where’s father?” The boy asked his sister in hushed tones.

“Still working.” She sighed slightly and the boy frowned. The backdoor then opened and a man walked in, carrying a small bouquet was in his worn hands.

“Welcome home.” His mother said, his father smiled and kissed his wife’s cheek before walking over to the sink and filled up a vase, placing the flowers in it and putting it on the wooden table.

Half a candle mark later the food was laid out on the table; scrumptious fruit and vegetables; warm, fresh bread and tender, flavoursome meat. The cheerful wildflowers sat in the centre of all the gloriousness. The happy family sat down, talking, joking and laughing together as time passed.

~*~

Kalen closed his eyes, tears streaming in full force now as he fell past and through memories. Laughter drifted over to him, the sun warmed him; He smiled. A bloodcurdling scream shot through him, chilling him like he’d been dowsed in ice water. ‘No, no, no, go away! Leave me alone, LEAVE!!!!!!!!!!!’ He screamed in his head, battering away memories which hounded him. Memories are tricky things, subjective looking pools into the past that can break a person. The good memories were worse than the bad; they were of what used to be, of how he used to be. They buried their way into his soul, trying to get him to feel again; they cut deeper because each time he thought of someone; they were dead and it was his fault. Kalen curled up in foetal position, clutching his head with clawed hands. A little blood ran down the corner of his face, he started shaking, clear tears mixing with the deep red blood.

“What’s wrong?” A young voice asked.

Kalen slowly looked up, removing his hands, there were a few small blood stained crescent marks on his face. Standing before him was a young boy. ‘What was going on? Was he mad? There never was anyone else here other than him.’

“Are you alright?” A boy with dark hair said, speaking again, his hazel eyes wary, growing larger as he took in the wretched figure.

“I..” Kalen swallowed, his throat dry, he nodded. Slowly as to not frighten the boy, he stood up, uncurling his long limbs; he looked around, he was in the rented room, the door was open and his blanket was strewed on the other side of the room, his sword was a few feet away. Ignoring the boy he walked over to it, the old floor creaking in places beneath his weight and he picked up the well used sword, feeling its reassuring weight in his hands, his heart lifted slightly.

Behind him the boy watched intently with a gaze belonging to someone much older and much wiser than a child. Slowly a smile crept onto the boys face; something about the curve of his lips, the glint in his eyes, made it sinister. Kalen turned round and the weirdness was gone, absent from the youths’ round face; a normal smile was plastered there instead.

“Is that your sword, sir?”

“Yes,” Kalen replied, finding his voice, “Why are you here?”

“Me mam owns this place, I like to watch the visitors, you learn a lot that way.” He smiled and puffed up his little chest, “Once I saved a man’s life, ‘cause of it. Me mam can’t tell me off for it now.” He paused, “You looked like you was in pain, so I said something. I wasn’t wrong, was I?” The boy whispered; worry flashing across his young face.

Kalen turned to look back at the corner he’d been curled up in, “No, you weren’t wrong.” He whispered, almost inaudibly. The little boy smiled an even wider, toothy grin; proud of himself.

“You a soldier then?” The boy asked; his gaze fixed on the man’s sword.

“I once was.” Kalen said, a slight frown appearing on his face. Thinking of the bitter memory of leaving everything he’d known after being recruited; forced into service. He looked down at his hand and half sword, the clanging of metal reached his ears along with the screams of his men dying around him. The memory of being stripped of his rank and commission played before his eyes, ‘I couldn’t save them.’ Shaking his head he turned back to the boy; whose eyes were full of awe and excitement, dreaming of being a soldier, of fighting battles and being a hero.

“What’s it like?” He asked, barely containing his excitement.

Kalen paused, what was he supposed to tell the boy? That it drove men mad, that it ripped at your soul when those you’ve trained and fought with die around you. “It’s not somewhere a little child should dream of being.” He whispered to himself. Though, he had been like that once, full of hope of adventure and excitement. His head full of tales of gallant knights and earning riches, but that was before, before what? Kalen couldn’t remember. The stories spread like wildfire, full of adventure and promise, drawing unwitting souls to battle and death, forget glory and honour.

The boy, perhaps realising he wouldn’t get an answer asked something else instead. “Pardon?” Kalen asked looking back at the boy, pulling himself away from his thoughts.

“Can I hold it?” The boy asked still gazing at the sword which was clenched tightly in Kalen’s hand, his knuckles white with tension. Kalen started, not realising his still held it, breathing slowly he uncurled his fingers and held the hilt out to the little boy. Something niggled at him and before he could draw away, the little boy reached out and touched the hilt. As quick as a flash, the sword was gone from Kalen’s grasp. Kalen straightened and looked at the little boy; his dark brown hair slowly turning a brilliant blonde and his hazel eyes lightened to a pale green, in his small hands was Kalen’s sword and companion for many years. Smiling the same weird smile as he did earlier, the sword shattered into a millions of pieces, tearing through the furniture and the room, opening it up to the expansive darkness once again. Kalen threw up his arms to protect him face. Shards embedded themselves in his arms, legs and stomach. Slowly he moved his arms down after the initial burst, looking around he saw glinting fragments sticking out of nothingness.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” He shouted, turning to the boy. Who smirked, slowly disappearing from Kalen’s view. Kalen froze, looking around; the shards of sword grew into multisided mirrors, surrounding him, memories playing inside them. A cacophony of sounds, conversations and thoughts assaulted him. Whimpering, Kalen reached up with bloody hands and covered his sensitive ears.

~*~

The boy woke up, it was the middle of the night, the sliver light of the full moon shone through his window, lighting his bedroom. Slowly he sat up, he’d heard something downstairs. Rubbing his eyes he looked around his small room; there was a bed, rug, wardrobe and some shelves, which held little nick knacks; some stones he’d collected and a few books. There was a crash downstairs. The boy paled slightly and got up, tiptoeing out his door onto the landing. All was quiet. All was dark. His breath shallow, he slowly walked along the corridor, delicately placing his feet so that he wouldn’t make a sound on the noisy floorboards. He paused outside his sisters’ room and peered inside, she never fully closed her door. He could see her figure fast asleep in bed, her back was to him, a window in front of her let in moonlight, lighting her brown hair with its feathery touch.

He smiled softly and turned away, before walking and hoping around the corner, past his parent’s room, their door was shut. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, listening for any sounds of disturbance; there was nothing. He started descending; careful of where he was placing his foot in the dark. He let out a breath near the bottom, not realising he’d been holding it and fell the rest of the way, landing at the bottom with a thundering crash. The boy groaned, and sat up, nothing felt broken, just bruised. He looked up at the stairs and saw something dripping; he must have slipped on the puddle of something. He couldn’t quiet tell what it was in the dark; it was on the last few steps and in a pool at the bottom. He looked down at himself; he was covered in it, swallowing hard, he stood up and moved into the light from a hallway window. The liquid was dark and had a slight metallic tang.

His pale eyes wide he looked around; behind him, pinned to the floor with his own blacksmith tools was his father. He moved closer, tears in his eyes and a pained look on his face before backing away, down the corridor. He bumped into the hallway table; the wildflower chains fell off, the flowers soaking up the blood his footprints left behind. He moved level with the kitchen. His eyes were fixed on his father’s body. He wrenched his eyes away, turning towards the kitchen and was greeted with the site of his mother; a smile frozen on her face as she dangled from the ceiling. The boy wailed and turned back the way he came, stumbling up the slippery stairs, running along the corridor and crashing through the doorway into his sister’s room. He ran over to her, jumping onto her bed and turned her over, her throat had been cut.

The boy cried, staring down at his sister glassy eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Breathing slowly and wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned around, blood and tears on his face, to greet nothingness.

~*~

“Murderer.” Kalen shook as the voices whispered to him, they reverberated in his head, no matter how fervently he tried to block them out; it only excited them more. “It’s your fault.” His eyes wide, his face pale Kalen repeated the words, mumbling as his did. “You’re a failure.” The words were a poison in his mind, driving away his sanity. ‘I am a failure.’ He thought to himself, ‘I let everyone down, I’m the reason they’re gone.’

“Die.” A blonde little boy whispered, his green eyes glinting.

Kalen nodded, dropping his hands from his ears. He stood on a deep purple island, surrounded by black, a light purple mist rolled around it, covering the surfaces in a thin opaque film. He walked towards the edge, hovering over the void. His eyes glassy, he gazed down at the last fall. The little boy smirked behind him as he leaned forward. Something glinted in the fog; a sparkling shard of his sword; reflected inside it was a face. The man was pale with light brown hair; he had once been handsome, but now had a haggard look around him. His eyes had large bags underneath them; they were a piercing pale blue. Kalen froze, something was wrong.

Behind him the little boy frowned, perspiration dotted his forehead; his blonde hair fell into his green eyes. “NO!” He thundered rage in his eyes as Kalen scrambled away from the verge. “HOW?”

Kalen didn’t answer his breathing heavy. “You are not me.” He whispered. Looking at the boy and a rush of memories fell over him. He was playing with wildflowers; his twin was in the distance, his blonde hair flowing around him as he charmed the birds from the trees. He was in his sister’s room again, turning around to see he brother there.

“Why.” He choked out.

His brother; Callan shrugged and looked at his sister. “They deserved it. After all, they preferred you over me.”

Kalen froze; his heart throbbed painfully in his chest. “But after everything they did for us, taking us into their home, feeding and raising us.”

Callen smirked completely unaffected, “It was quite easy, actually. More than I thought it’d be.”

Kalen flinched as Callen laid a hand on his shoulder. Smiling he described how he’d snuck down the corridor and slit his own sisters throat. Before going into their parent’s room and telling them he’d heard something downstairs. How he’d pushed his father down the stairs and then stabbed him with his tools which happened to be lying nearby. How his mother had come running downstairs at the noise and how he’d goaded her into killing herself, telling her that her family was dead, making her disgusted with the abomination she’d raised.

“STOP!” Kalen screamed his eyes blinking back tears, his throat burning.

Callen smirked, “The only thing left to decide is what to do with you little brother.” A dagger glinted in the moonlight.

~*~

Kalen jerked awake gasping, he looked around; he was back. He could feel the rough, scratchy mattress beneath him. He could see the dreary walls and slightly dusty floor. Breathing deeply, he calmed himself. He stood on shaky legs and walked over to a ceramic basin on the drawer near the doorway. He dipped his face into it, the refreshing coldness of the water shot through him; waking him up. He looked up at the old dirty mirror and wiped it with his hand; his face stared back at him. One of his eyes was a pale blue; the other had turned a crisp green. His naturally brown hair had a shock of blonde in it. He paled at the sight of his reflection. Behind him, his sword was missing.
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#2
Bimp

Bimp

    2gr8ful2beh8ful

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Could have done with a bit (lot) of editing.
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#3
Xxdeath..sorrowxX

Xxdeath..sorrowxX

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It was long but meaningfulland twoheaded guy it dosnt matter ur emo spellin dosnt matter
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#4
LindseyShea

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This is really good!!! I loved it!
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#5
dreamergirl

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I love this! Its so amazing and ignore that spelling comment. Its lovely as is.
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#6
dustin sanders

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Spoiler

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#7
Steve 

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dustin sanders: If you want to post a poem you like, wrong thread. If you want to post one of your own poems, instead of ctrl +v'ing one, post it in your own thread instead of hi-jacking one.
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