QuirkyMockingjay
New member
This is just a quick story I wrote based on an idea on my wall. It's not perfect, but it's just something I thought I'd share. Just something I typed up quickly, as the title says.
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Always.
I gripped my bow tightly, slowly turning the corner. I had no idea what enemy I'd find on the other side, all I knew was I would find an enemy. That was how it worked. They always came up the siege towers minutes after attempting to bash. They always had bows, and swords, and spears. They always came ready to kill.
I'd always meet them from afar, turning to strike down the first few archers as they ran across the path. It was always the same, my accuracy and their positions being the only variable. Sometimes though, something in the back of my mind would tell me that some of these people were friends. Yet, how was that possible? They were enemies. They came to kill. To take Gondor. How could I ever think of them as my friends?
I shook myself away from the pattern of the past and fired an arrow, it's deadly course ringing true. The person, a black clothed archer, stumbled backwards off the side, he gripped hopelessly and wildly as he fell. It had bothered me at first, all the death, but I'd gotten used to it. It was just what had to be done, the point of conquest in the games.
Wait, had I just the thought the word games? For some reason, that filled me with a sense of Déjà vu... Yet why was that? I felt an odd sense of numb detachment at that thought, struggling to remember. Then, I blinked. Of course! I'd fought before, maybe the word game was déjà vu because of that? Yeah, that had to be it...
I ran to go up the stairs for the tower. I'd get a better vantage point from there. Odd how I knew that, because I'd never shot from there before, at least in this life...
It was higher ground, I reasoned, that was the explanation. That was how I knew. I once again turned to shoot, engaging another archer. This was ordinary, I told myself, expected. There was nothing out of the ordinary with this situation.
"Nazgul!" Someone cried, and I turned. The beast, a giant dragon of sorts, flied effortlessly through the air, plucking soldiers and archers and sending them falling to their deaths.
Fell beast...
I blinked again, I was having too many delusions today. It was a Nazgul, not a fell beast. Well, it was that too, but it was a Nazgul... I fired an arrow in its direction, and watched as it turned so that it's purple eyes were facing me. It startled me, and I tripped back down the stairs, just in time to watch its talons scrape the area I'd been standing on.
"I'll get you next time." I heard a voice say. It was confusing. Had it talked to me? No. That was preposterous... It couldn't talk... Yet for some crazy reason I felt it could... Wow, I must be exhausted, how long had I been fighting?
The sky, which had been day, now was changed dark with night. Below, I heard people cheering about Grond, each ram of the wolf head sending sending splinters of wood flying. I had to shoot the trolls... Yet there was cool_co-the Nazgul to worry about. Had I just thought the Nazgul was named cool_col? I was right, I really did need rest...
Yet I didn't feel tired... Just the opposite. I felt full of energy, as if I'd just woken up. Was that odd? No... My character was elven... I mean... I was elven... I didn't need sleep... That was the explanation... I shook my head. I needed to concentrate more on fighting... They might take Gondor otherwise...
Huh, there was something about sleep... Dreams... That was it... There was something important to do with dreams...
I remembered some sort of dream...
There was a game... A player... A website... I-I was someone else... There was school... And books... And...and...
It was gone, the memory. It had simply faded from my mind. That was odd... I'd usually had a good memory... Why had that dream faded?
It didn't matter, I decided. Mordor was attacking Gondor and I had to defend. That was how it had always been done.
Always.
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Always.
I gripped my bow tightly, slowly turning the corner. I had no idea what enemy I'd find on the other side, all I knew was I would find an enemy. That was how it worked. They always came up the siege towers minutes after attempting to bash. They always had bows, and swords, and spears. They always came ready to kill.
I'd always meet them from afar, turning to strike down the first few archers as they ran across the path. It was always the same, my accuracy and their positions being the only variable. Sometimes though, something in the back of my mind would tell me that some of these people were friends. Yet, how was that possible? They were enemies. They came to kill. To take Gondor. How could I ever think of them as my friends?
I shook myself away from the pattern of the past and fired an arrow, it's deadly course ringing true. The person, a black clothed archer, stumbled backwards off the side, he gripped hopelessly and wildly as he fell. It had bothered me at first, all the death, but I'd gotten used to it. It was just what had to be done, the point of conquest in the games.
Wait, had I just the thought the word games? For some reason, that filled me with a sense of Déjà vu... Yet why was that? I felt an odd sense of numb detachment at that thought, struggling to remember. Then, I blinked. Of course! I'd fought before, maybe the word game was déjà vu because of that? Yeah, that had to be it...
I ran to go up the stairs for the tower. I'd get a better vantage point from there. Odd how I knew that, because I'd never shot from there before, at least in this life...
It was higher ground, I reasoned, that was the explanation. That was how I knew. I once again turned to shoot, engaging another archer. This was ordinary, I told myself, expected. There was nothing out of the ordinary with this situation.
"Nazgul!" Someone cried, and I turned. The beast, a giant dragon of sorts, flied effortlessly through the air, plucking soldiers and archers and sending them falling to their deaths.
Fell beast...
I blinked again, I was having too many delusions today. It was a Nazgul, not a fell beast. Well, it was that too, but it was a Nazgul... I fired an arrow in its direction, and watched as it turned so that it's purple eyes were facing me. It startled me, and I tripped back down the stairs, just in time to watch its talons scrape the area I'd been standing on.
"I'll get you next time." I heard a voice say. It was confusing. Had it talked to me? No. That was preposterous... It couldn't talk... Yet for some crazy reason I felt it could... Wow, I must be exhausted, how long had I been fighting?
The sky, which had been day, now was changed dark with night. Below, I heard people cheering about Grond, each ram of the wolf head sending sending splinters of wood flying. I had to shoot the trolls... Yet there was cool_co-the Nazgul to worry about. Had I just thought the Nazgul was named cool_col? I was right, I really did need rest...
Yet I didn't feel tired... Just the opposite. I felt full of energy, as if I'd just woken up. Was that odd? No... My character was elven... I mean... I was elven... I didn't need sleep... That was the explanation... I shook my head. I needed to concentrate more on fighting... They might take Gondor otherwise...
Huh, there was something about sleep... Dreams... That was it... There was something important to do with dreams...
I remembered some sort of dream...
There was a game... A player... A website... I-I was someone else... There was school... And books... And...and...
It was gone, the memory. It had simply faded from my mind. That was odd... I'd usually had a good memory... Why had that dream faded?
It didn't matter, I decided. Mordor was attacking Gondor and I had to defend. That was how it had always been done.
Always.
you got a LOT of free time. Or maybe you just study English 24/7. holy nazgul poo that was a good story though :thumb:
