2011-01-06 22:09![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
supreme_being81
supreme_being81 Okay, so I've delved into an original fiction. I've got a prologue, short, probably not sweet, but it's something! It's under the cut, and is rated R for language (a little swearing). The notes i have for it are under the prologue. Any thoughts, concrit etc is welcome.
The air in my office chilled, my breath misting in front of me as I breathed it out slowly. I allowed my eyes to fall, half closed and stretched out my senses. There she was, a slender thing, a girl my mother would call waifish. The smell of decay, vanilla and jasmine followed in her wake. Long blonde hair moved slightly as if pushed by an unfelt breeze, grey eyes darted from left to right as if reassuring herself that she was safe. And she was, at least, while she was here. As soon as she stepped outside, her chances went down to nearly nil.
Outside of this office, demons waited to use her essence as currency. Magicians would entrap her and use her for information collection. Zombies would try to eat her, sustenance for their life beyond death. Out there, she was vulnerable. Of course, that wouldn’t stop me from sending right back out of the door, or wall or however she bloody well came in.
“Mr. De Croissance?” Her voice sounded thin, as if it came from a distance.
“I’m De Croissance. What can I do for you, miss…?”
“Barclay. Kate Barclay. I’m……well, I’m dead. I don’t remember dying, I don’t remember anything since last Thursday and I need to know. I heard the Whispers, your name, that you could help me, so I came here.”
“The Whispers fucked up there then love, sorry, but I can’t help you.” The words came out stronger than I expected, I’ve always been a soft touch for a pretty face, and she certainly had one of those. But I’d had enough of ghosts, had enough of raking through death tales and grimy lives and dirty secrets. Enough of pain and sadness. And enough of those fucking Whispers.
Her grey eyes were sad as she breathed out a sigh and faded slowly from my sight. I leaned back in my chair, tipped my head back and closed my eyes.
I thought that would be the last I’d ever see of Kate Barclay.
I was wrong.
*****************************************************************************************************************************************
Set in an AU london where the supernatural and paranormal mingles with the natural and normal. The sub levels are inhabited by zombies, ghouls and mortal criminals and homeless and also demons of all kinds. The air is grimy, very victorian era - gaslight, carriages etc.
Whispers – other worldly mutterings from nowhre or no one visible. Ghosts and zombies and vampires can hear them, demons and magicians use ghosts to tell them what’s being whispered. Only those who have died can hear them, whispers are from those who guide the returning ones; powerful seers, dead gods, higher level demons. They could show themselves, but choose not to, unless to those truly cursed or blessed, depending on how you see it, with immense power.
De Croissance - Powerful, mysterious, some kind of humanoid being, not dead, not alive, not vampire or zombie or ghost but something unknown. Twisted view of life and the afterlife. Used to work for the Lord of the largest Vampire enclave in England as an advisor, he left when the vampire he was in love with, Lucia, was executed wrongly, the vampire lord is desperate to get him back, but he started freelancing, helping those in need until he became too jaded. Hears the whispers, has seen some of the beings, refuses to heed them anymore.
The air in my office chilled, my breath misting in front of me as I breathed it out slowly. I allowed my eyes to fall, half closed and stretched out my senses. There she was, a slender thing, a girl my mother would call waifish. The smell of decay, vanilla and jasmine followed in her wake. Long blonde hair moved slightly as if pushed by an unfelt breeze, grey eyes darted from left to right as if reassuring herself that she was safe. And she was, at least, while she was here. As soon as she stepped outside, her chances went down to nearly nil.
Outside of this office, demons waited to use her essence as currency. Magicians would entrap her and use her for information collection. Zombies would try to eat her, sustenance for their life beyond death. Out there, she was vulnerable. Of course, that wouldn’t stop me from sending right back out of the door, or wall or however she bloody well came in.
“Mr. De Croissance?” Her voice sounded thin, as if it came from a distance.
“I’m De Croissance. What can I do for you, miss…?”
“Barclay. Kate Barclay. I’m……well, I’m dead. I don’t remember dying, I don’t remember anything since last Thursday and I need to know. I heard the Whispers, your name, that you could help me, so I came here.”
“The Whispers fucked up there then love, sorry, but I can’t help you.” The words came out stronger than I expected, I’ve always been a soft touch for a pretty face, and she certainly had one of those. But I’d had enough of ghosts, had enough of raking through death tales and grimy lives and dirty secrets. Enough of pain and sadness. And enough of those fucking Whispers.
Her grey eyes were sad as she breathed out a sigh and faded slowly from my sight. I leaned back in my chair, tipped my head back and closed my eyes.
I thought that would be the last I’d ever see of Kate Barclay.
I was wrong.
*****************************************************************************************************************************************
Set in an AU london where the supernatural and paranormal mingles with the natural and normal. The sub levels are inhabited by zombies, ghouls and mortal criminals and homeless and also demons of all kinds. The air is grimy, very victorian era - gaslight, carriages etc.
Whispers – other worldly mutterings from nowhre or no one visible. Ghosts and zombies and vampires can hear them, demons and magicians use ghosts to tell them what’s being whispered. Only those who have died can hear them, whispers are from those who guide the returning ones; powerful seers, dead gods, higher level demons. They could show themselves, but choose not to, unless to those truly cursed or blessed, depending on how you see it, with immense power.
De Croissance - Powerful, mysterious, some kind of humanoid being, not dead, not alive, not vampire or zombie or ghost but something unknown. Twisted view of life and the afterlife. Used to work for the Lord of the largest Vampire enclave in England as an advisor, he left when the vampire he was in love with, Lucia, was executed wrongly, the vampire lord is desperate to get him back, but he started freelancing, helping those in need until he became too jaded. Hears the whispers, has seen some of the beings, refuses to heed them anymore.
◾ Tags:
