Wednesday 9 October 2024

#92 Decisions, Decisions...+ Short Diversions: The Woods

Happy Blog Day Everyone!


As said last week, this is the month of Short Diversions, so further down you'll find the first part (of two!) of a brand new short story. Both stories that get featured this month will share a spooky/horror theme, as per the season. Want to know what else shares in the fun of Halloween though? Who else but...


The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz

Told you that these next few issues were going to be spooky adjacent. Riz looks quite fetching as Dracula I reckon. Poor Brennan though, he's going to need that pillow fort, but I worry it's not going to be enough...


Short Diversions: The Wood Part 1

Here's the first short story of the season, and if I done it right, it should be quite fun, but this is me we're talking about here so execution may vary!

As the title suggests, this is part 1, so remember to come back next week for the concluding part!

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The Woods


1.


     Beth knew she was lost, trembling with every step she took through the forest. She looked nervously for any sign of her friends, but all that greeted her was the snapping of twigs. She’d ventured into the Longhorn Woods with her friends, wanting to hit the secret party spot. They had all heard the stories of missing hikers, unearthly howls and of things that should not be, but they also thought that’s just what they were: stories.

     “Hello?” she called out as there was movement behind her. “Is that you Ted?” she prayed for a positive response, for Ted to step out into her torchlight. There was only silence however. She kept the torch focused on the same spot for a few minutes, before quickly turning away to face the direction of another sound, one that haunted her more, as it seemed to be the giggling of a group of little girls.

     “This isn’t funny!” she shouted out, slowly, she took a few steps backwards, frantically scanning for any threats that may be approaching. The giggling stopped as soon as it started, returning the forest to an unnerving quiet. Beth put her back against a tree, edging around it, tears forming in her eyes when there came a sudden movement, and something came fluttering from on high, heading straight for her. She threw her hands up to protect her face, dropping her only source of light. From what she could tell, it was an owl that was attacking her, and she managed to swat it away, sending it back to where it had come from, and the giggling started over, this time seemingly coming from two different directions. She groped in the darkness, wanting to get away from the cursed woods as fast as she could possibly manage. Her nerves frayed beyond belief, she started mindlessly praying to whoever above was listening. A crooked branch sent her tumbling to the floor, where she started crawling, reaching out for a way to pull herself up. She wanted to call out for help once more, but she hadn’t the courage to do more than utter a mewling curse upon herself.

     Then she reached out, and grabbed someone’s boot. Beth started sobbing uncontrollably as her eyes glanced upwards, being greeted by a faceless figure in a hood. He raised his hand, and Beth screamed as best she could, knowing that this was the end….

     “CUT!” a male voice shouted out. “I do believe that’s a wrap!”

     “Thank god,” Beth sighed as she stood up, dusting herself down. Her would-be ‘attacker’ pulled back his hood.

     “Did you have to scream like that Beth?” he complained.

     “Sid, it’s the only screaming you’ll get to hear with that attitude,” Beth retorted as she took a swig from her water bottle.

     “Clive! Can you hear what she’s saying here? I’m your main star! You can’t let her speak to me like that!” 

     Clive was the aspiring director, and he wasn’t paying attention to what his actors were saying, instead, he was focusing on what footage he’d captured on his phone, his recorder of choice.

      “This is perfect,” he said loudly, pretending he was only talking to himself.

     “This weeks show is going to be our best yet, I know I say it a lot, but this is going to take us viral for sure,” he announced to everyone else. Sandra appeared from behind a tree, winding the wire up that was used for the ‘owl attack’.

     “You say that every week, for the past year in fact!” she said without looking at the director, gritting her teeth. “I swear…” 

     “You swear what?” Clive asked absentmindedly, only just realising she was speaking.

     “Nevermind…” Sandra hefted the bundle of wire up to her shoulder then stood next to Beth, the two exchanging glances before turning back to the others as Clive looked around confused.

     “Right, where’s Ted and Fern?” Clive asked. The childish giggling from before started up, getting ominous closer and closer, but no one was fazed.

     “Ted! Fern! You two idiots!” Sandra shouted.

     “We’re not them!” a male voice replied, quickly followed by the sound of someone getting punched.

     “What did I tell you not to do!” a female voice took over. “Now you’ve ruined the joke.” Fern stepped out from trees, holding a little bluetooth speaker. Ted appeared next to her, a speaker in his hand as well. The six friends had started out as their high school's Drama Society, but that didn;t last long as Clive wanted to take them online, and thus the Fear Chasers was born. In truth, they had only been operating less than a year, and the results had been abysmal, but this was where the night’s activities would come into play. Clive had hoped that their ‘investigation’ would raise interest in the channel, and send him on the way to success. If he could prove himself, awards would surely follow. The dreams of the rest of the group though, were more varied and more grounded. Beth didn’t want to be in front of a camera, she wanted to be on a stage, performing live to as many people that could be jammed into a theatre. Sandra shared that vision, but wanted to be behind the stage rather than be on it. She agreed to do the videos as long as got away without being on them. This ‘investigation’ would be a rare avoidance of that rule. Sid’s ambitions were more of the amorous side of things. Clive had recruited him because of his good looks, and that went straight to Sid’s head. Through Clive’s silly videos, Sid thought he could extend his popularity with the fairer sex, if they wanted it or not. Ted and Fern, on the other hand, were in it for the simple reason to have fun. Every action that Clive asked them to undertake, they saw as a challenge to find the best way to entertain themselves with it. Clive worked hard to bring everyone together, but only to meet his desire.

     “Look, if you two could stop messing around for a minute,” Sandra said.

     “Well, that’s it isn’t it? Sid killed Beth, that’s a wrap, and we get to go home where it’s warm,” Ted said, with Fern nodding along with him.

     “No, that was just the opening skit. Within a week, it’ll be uploaded to other social media sites on its own as advertisement,” Clive explained, despite no one asking. “The rest of tonight, you will each take a camera, and conduct your own investigation.”

     “How long do we have to be out here? I was hoping to go out tonight, maybe with some friends,” Sid said, winking at Beth.

     “At least an hour. We have to take this seriously if we want people to take us seriously.” 

     “Bullshit,” Sandra said, spitting on the ground. “You expect us to go out alone and get lost in the woods? And if we don’t get any interesting footage? What would be the point then!”

     “Then you fake it like you always do!” A new voice interrupted the proceedings, and Clive’s expression changed from calm to outraged in a moment, as he turned with a hateful gaze. He knew full well who the voice belonged to.

     “Paul ‘Fright’ Wright. What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

     “How cute, you even referred to me by my username! I must live in your head rent free!” Paul gloated, he was dressed in hiking gear, with a head mounted light, a series of cameras strapped to other parts of his body, and a large rucksack fixed on his back. While Clive and his friends were dressed casually, Paul was decked out to survive in the forest.

     “You didn’t answer my question.”

     “What do you think I’m here to do? Film another awesome episode of my successful, and sponsored, online show, FrightWright! Going where you daren’t. I mean, isn’t that why you and the rest of the amdram squad are out here?” Paul shot a cheeky grin at the rest of the group, treating all of them with disdain.

     “Are you filming right now?” Sandra asked.

     “No? I don’t think my viewers want to see you guys!”

     “That’s a shame, I thought they might get a kick out of seeing me kicking your ass!” 

     Beth giggled at her friend's outburst, and even Clive let out a smile, almost wishing that Sandra would do the deed.

     “Why the hostilities!” Paul threw his hands up in the air, almost mockingly. “Oh, is it because I’ve got the more successful show while you’re just wasting time?” 

     “Sod Sandra hitting him, I’m going to beat the crap out of him!” Sid walked up to him and went to throw a punch, but Paul dodged backwards, almost falling over as he scrambled to put more ground between them.

     “Violence? Really? Maybe I should turn the camera’s on! Bet the police would love to see that footage, especially considering what a few of you have done before!” Even when on the backfoot, Paul couldn’t help but provoke them. Beth took a step back herself, almost hiding behind Sandra, wanting to get away from any camera.

     “Go away! Tonight is the night we prove that we’re the better show! Everyone will see you for the charlatan you are!” Clive announced, raising his voice to the loudest he could get it. “No one wants you here! Go and…”

     “Go and die!” Beth completed his sentence.

     “You want me to go and die? After everything we’ve been through Beth. That hurts me, that really hurts me. Still, I can see your tense, so I’ll head off and continue my epic show. Already been out here for 24 hours! Doubt you lot would even last an hour, before your back at home, adding spooky audio in through the editor. I only use real footage for my show!” With his rant over, Paul turned and left before anyone could say anything else.

     “Next time I see that prick, I’m going to fucking murder him,” Sid said angrily. “Your taste in men is absolutely shit,” he added, turning to Beth. “That’s why you’d be better off with me.”

     Beth didn’t give a response to that, she was shaking too much. Sandra watched her carefully, and steadied her own breathing.

     “Right, Clive, you can’t expect us to go out into that forest alone knowing he’s out there.”

     “Fine,” Clive admitted. “We’ll do it in pairs. Ted, Fern. You both were being oddly quiet back there. You could have said something you know.”

     “We were too busy,” Fern admitted.

     “Too busy?” Sid spluttered. “Too busy doing what?”

     “Too busy filming!” Ted smiled with a cheesy grin. He held up his phone. “As soon as I get somewhere with a decent signal, everyone will see that ass as he is!” 

     “You two actually did something helpful and decent for once. Now that is surprising,” Sandra smiled approvingly.

     “Make sure you upload it once we’re done here. Paul can have an hour’s peace before we reveal him for what he is. Choose your partner, and get filming,” Clive demanded.


     The pairs were easy to guess, Ted and Fern stuck together, making Clive wince at the thought of the footage they were going to collect. Sid had manoeuvred himself to try and get with Beth, but Sandra got in his way, and then her and Beth went off together.

     “Guess it’s just you and me,” Sid sighed.

     “You can go alone if you want. I’m going to stay here and watch the feeds,” Clive got comfy at the base of a tree, setting himself up for an hour’s stay.

     “Sure you can survive out here by yourself?” Sid asked, mockingly.

     “I’m a director, my place is behind the camera and to make sure that everyone is doing their job. You want everyone to see your face, then it would make sense for you to get on camera,”

     “If you want to be alone, then just say it. I'd rather be in the company of a beautiful woman anyway than hang with you.” Sid turned and left after that. Each group had gone in a different direction, and all Clive could hope for, was that each encountered something to report back on. Knowing Paul was out there, he felt a new urgency to make this episode better, more important than that of his rival. Ted’s video would sink him, but that wasn’t enough. What mattered was a higher number of views.

     For the first thirty minutes or so, each camera showed the team doing their walk, either chatting with themselves, or trying to taunt whatever entity might have been lurking nearby. Clive did hear a few comments about how odd things had become, as any ambient sounds had died off, and that, considering it was a beautiful moonlit night, the darkness was almost oppressive. Having done a few events like this, Clive thought he was used to the settings but the silence was starting to get to him as well. He couldn’t figure it out though, he did his best editing work in complete silence at home. Outside though, even at this time of night, there should have been some ambient noise. It took him a few minutes to even realise that his friends had all gone quiet, till he heard Beth call out for Sandra, the two having been separated at some point, before Clive could get concerned at her absence, the two were reunited, with Sandra being a bit evasive as to what happened to her. Not caring about their personal drama, Clive tried to relax, but found he couldn’t, if anything, he got more tense, wishing for a mouse scurrying through the undergrowth, or a bird flying through the trees. A sensation of being watched crept over him, as though whatever eyes were fixated on him, were standing too close for comfort. The snapping of a twig next to him caught his attention and his eyes darted to what he perceived to be the source. Someone was there, he was sure of it. He glanced at the screen of his laptop, at where everyone else was, and none of them showed any surroundings like where he was. Fear turned to confidence, as he calmed himself and worked through all the facts. After all, hadn’t there already been an areshole in the forest, wanting to scare them senseless? With conviction welling within him, Clive stood, adjusted his jacket so as to not appear blustered, and then called out.

     “I know you’re there, Paul! I’m not afraid of your tricks!” 

     A moment passed, and there was nothing.

     “I’m not falling for it!” Clive continued, allowing his voice to get louder. “I know you’re there, and you’re trying to make me look like a wimp! You’ll wait till I’m shaking with fright and then you’ll jump out, and laugh at me, you always try to take away everything I have! My dreams, my friends! Well, you’re not getting me now! This time, I’ve won! And you can be the one who goes home crying!” 

     Still nothing. Clive’s confidence was starting to shake, splinters of it falling away with each second that the accusation fell on deaf ears.

     “You don’t get it do you! We have everything recorded, the truth behind your actions! The truth behind how little your followers actually mean to you!” If Clive had been paying attention to the screens, he would have realised that his voice had gotten so loud, that the others were starting to hear it, their muffled conversations murmuring about what was going on. Getting no reply still, and his anger surmounting, Clive clenched his fists and then took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he stepped round the tree, expecting to see Paul’s smirking face, but there was no one there, just the looming shadows of branches that seemed grasping for him under the pale moonlight. He thought back to the recent experiences, and he was positive that there had to have been someone there, and whoever it was, had to be standing at that point. He surely would have heard them if they tried to head a different direction when they were found out.

     Still pondering what was happening, he went back to the laptop that had been merrilly playing to itself, and saw that several of the streams had started glitching, artefacts appearing on the screen while others were tearing.

     “What’s going on?” Clive said to himself, his voice having plummeted in volume, and then he heard something, something unmistakable.

     It was Beth’s screaming, not in pain, but anguish, as Sandra tried desperately to calm her down. Her screen wasn’t providing much help in identifying the problem, till all the errors vanished, leaving the streams as perfect as they were when the investigation started. It was then that Clive got to share in what Beth was staring at, what made her scream.

     Framed perfect in the little window was Paul. Hanging upside down, his face twisted in agony, each limb had been removed and impaled on separate branches, with a large one erupting through his rib cage. His blood blanketed all the leaves, giving them an eerie glow under the torch light.

     No one dared say anything, as a wind started to make the corpse sway…

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Hope you all enjoyed that, but I'm going to leave it there for now. Part 2 drops next week!

Till next time....

Keep on writing!

Peter James Martin

Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble

Tuesday 1 October 2024

#91 Seasons Greetings

Happy Blog Day Everyone!


Another look back this week but for fans of Short Diversions, October is going to be your month! Before we go any further, let's check in on the first Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz of the spooky season!


The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz

Definitely better this week! I think I nail Riz’s expression in that last panel and it's a world away from the original look I drafted. This is much better. 

For the rest of the month, expect some traces of Halloween to seep in...and of course I'm going to poke at Brennan's hatred of the holiday. Plus maybe, just maybe, Riz will get some more costumes in!


September Report

One month closer to 2025 eh? Need more time for writing!

This month was practically devoted to work on the Daemon Soul sequel where I've completed two chapters. Not bad going but I am going to have to pick up the pace somewhat, as I've still got 80k words to pen. What I can say is that I finally go through the ranks of the Shadows and inadvertently made more work for myself (and my editor!) with the first Daemon Soul manuscript as a rather obvious idea fell into my mind in order to set up a scene I've not written yet! That'll teach me.. 

For the blog, you all got two new short stories.

A Moon’s Vigil: A New Drache Arm Luna short, I think it went down okay but probably wasn't self contained enough as it should have been. No appearance of the titular armour either.

Brennan in the Game: Brennan and Riz's third blog story, and I did enjoy writing this one. It's a prime candidate for a longer iteration at some point. 

If you haven't given either a read, do please check them out.

With that said, I'm trying something with Short Diversions this month, and that is two stories but each in two parts! Assuming I've got my maths right, there's 5 Wednesdays in this month, including the day this blog goes live. Perfect time to go crazy with these stories. What will they be about? Well, it is spooky season and I've got a few characters suited to it, no Brennan and Riz though, as Brennan is too busy avoiding it. Maybe next year for that pair.

That's all for this week.

Join me next week for the first part of an all new Short Diversions!

Till then,

Keep on writing!

Peter James Martin

Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble

Tuesday 24 September 2024

#90 Whoops + Short Diversions: Brennan in the Game

Happy Blog Day Everyone!

It's Short Diversions time again, and Brennan and Riz are up front and centre! Well, Brennan mostly but you'll understand why once you've read it, this format allows me to experiment a lot like this!

Before that though, let's check in on the pair's comic (mis)adventures!


The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz

It's a trope by now but I have to (again) apologise for the quality of this strip. I was under the weather when drawing this (still am at time of writing!) so this is why Brennan looks so off model here (aka the Wish/Temu version), and why the colouring is even more haphazard than usual!

The idea itself is a fun one though as I can absolutely imagine Riz doing this to himself. Also 10 strips to go before the big 100, where has the time gone!

Short Diversions: Brennan in the Game

Yes, Brennan and Riz are returning quite quickly to Short Diversions, with another idea that I've been toying with but couldn't quite justify more words than what you're getting here, at least, not currently anyway. Hands held high, I must say that this was inspired by Tron, at least in terms of general plot, sadly Brennan won't be going up against the MCP in this story.

So without further ado, I present to you this weeks Short Diversions!

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Brennan in the Game


     At first, all I remembered was that my head was hurting to hell and back. I tried to look around but my body refused to move. What I could tell from my blurred vision, was that I was somewhere bright, somewhere with very green grass and…annoying music? Of course, I couldn’t tell where this music was coming from just that it was there, and it was the kind of tune that you knew you’d be humming for days on end, and hate yourself all the same. There was a sense of familiarity with this tune. I should know it, I told myself. The question why not factoring in right now. Another thing I noticed that was both refreshing and disturbing, was the fact that I was alone, or at least, I thought I was alone. I think I was alone before, but it had taken on a new meaning, in this world of…wherever I was. 

     Wanting to explore a bit more, I took a step forward, and found the ground a little springy, like walking on a mattress. It was then that I tried to turn around…and instantly did a one eighty, facing the opposite way with nothing in between. I attempted it again only to encounter the same phenomena. I looked ahead, wanting to see any clue as to what was going on, and realised that, to my horror, it wasn’t a case of blurred vision preventing me from seeing things, it was there wasn’t anything to see as all there was ahead of me, were lines that built up to make objects that I couldn’t comprehend at this moment. It was then, when my confusion had reached its peak, did a voice break through from somewhere completely outside of my perception, and the miasma in my head instantly cleared up.

     “Gud grief dis game looks like shit now, it ain't aged as well as me!”

     It was Riz, and I was both dismayed and relieved to actually be able to remember him.

     “Hah, da main character kinda looks like Bren. Don't remember dat.”

     “It is me you stupid prick!” I shouted as loud as I could. I didn’t know what form my speech would take, if Riz would have heard it or if it would have just appeared as a speech bubble above my head.

     “Bren? Wat da heck ya doin dere?”

     “A parcel turned up in my name. I thought to check it since I knew I hadn’t ordered anything, and wanted to make sure you hadn’t. Inside was this old game console and this game with a note from a client we did a job for recently.”

     “Nd ya jus plugged it in fer a game?”

     “As if you wouldn’t have done the same thing! Anyway, all that seemed to check out, till I turned the game on and the original developer was crossed out and replaced with Gallows productions.”

     “Ohh, dat twat. He cursed da game so who eva played it got sucked in, like Tron? Crafty, gud thing I waz takin a nap at dat point. Otherwise we’d be up shit creek.”

     “Right, you’ve caught up, now get me out of here!”

     “Keep ya fukin hair on, lemme get da controller.”

     “Wait, what are you doing?”

     “Wat do ya fink I’m fukin doin? Dere’s only one way ta get ya out of dis, nd dat’s by beatin dis game!” 

     I heard the sound of distant movement, which I guessed was Riz moving around the office, wanting to find the controller that I dropped onto the floor when I was sucked into the game. Then my body jerked forward, my power to move it being ripped from me and transferred to Riz. I was not looking forward to this.

     “Found it! Now, let’s figure dis out. Is A jump again or waz it up.”

     I started jumping up and down on the spot like a lunatic, before Riz clearly started experimenting with diagonal jumps, one of which sent me crashing into those ill-defined shapes from before. The last thing I needed clarifying here, was the news that any pain I felt here, was one hundred percent real. Yay.

     “Dis is gunna be e-z p-z. I know wat I’m doin, now, let’s get dis game on!”

     True to his word, my body started moving, and I had no idea what was going on, I was ducking under lines, jumping over others, till I stopped.

     “You bored already?” I asked in dismay.

     “Nah, jus lookin ta find da enemies health on da screen, of if everythin haz one hit one kill on.”

     I really hoped it wasn’t the latter, but enemies weren’t something that I thought about before. I summarised that like everything else in this game, at least from my perspective, the enemies would look indistinguishable from all the platforms I was presumably hopping over.

     “Are there any enemies on screen now?”

     “Yup, three cutesy lookin skeleton things comin at ya ta give u a great big hug…Oh shit I didn’t see dem comin up behind!” 

     Before I could question anything, I was pushed forwards and felt an intense pain from behind me, as though I was being stabbed and crushed to death at the exact same time. My hands flashed red, and I was relieved that the game was still going. Riz made me jump into the air three consecutive times, and I could tell I was landing on something.

     “Enemies ‘re ded, fer now nd gud news, I found your health bar, it waz sorta hidden in da corner of da screen.”

     As I knew you could never have good news without bad news, I braced myself for what he was about to say next,

     “Da bad news is, dat well, ya supposed ta ‘ave five ‘arts.”

     “And how many hearts do I have right now?”

     “Two.”

     “Terrific. Absolutely terrific. You better be watching the screen now like a hawk! I’m not taking the chance that this game has continues built into it!”

     “Relax will ya? I used ta play dis nd tonnes of games like dis back in da day…Well, back in da 1980s, da 1880s waz a real heady time, I can tell ya dat for a fact!” 

     “Riz, focus! Get me the hell out of this game and back into the real world!”

     “I can only do dat by gettin ya thru it!”

     “Get on doing that then! And no more lives lost, okay!”

     “Sheesh, wat eva!” 

     I started moving again after that, jumping haphazardly around, landing on lines that looked barely there and stomping what I could only hope were the enemies that Riz spoke of.

     “Okay, time fer a runnin jump!” I heard Riz announce. I moved slightly back and then my body was propelled forward. I glanced down into the pit of nothingness. Given that I had no control over what I was doing, I prayed to whatever otherworldly being could hear me that I landed safely. In what I could describe as the longest two seconds in my life, I drifted over that chasm, my trajectory uncertain from what I could tell till I put both feet on the ground. The relief was tangible, till I heard Riz utter one word:

     “Shit.” 

     The floor I was standing on started to give way, and Riz must have been too slow on the uptake to move me, as I slid backwards into the darkness, knowing that my hearts were definitely not going to survive this. At the last second though, my right arm lifted up, and a hook with rope launched out of it. With a satisfying clang, the hook found something to dig into and I was pulled up and dropped to safety.

     “I have a hook?”

     “Ya didn’t know dat? I thought ya knew dat,” Riz answered nonchalantly.

     “I’m sorry, I can’t really have a look at myself like this, how the hell would I know I had a goddamn hook!” 

     “Well, now ya do, now hush! I’m gunna save ya ass!”

     My arm lifted again and I was flying again, well, dragged is probably more accurate as the hook shot out every three seconds it seemed, sending me up, sending me down, sending me back the way I came. The flurry of movement only seemed to subside when I landed with a thud and heard a cheery little jingle.

     “Is it over?” I asked, wanting to be on the other side of the screen again.

     “Yup, level one is dun nd dusted!” Riz boasted. “Only another nine hundred nd ninety nine levels ta go!”

     “Wait, what?”

     “Oh yeh, dis game’s got a thousand levels, nd dey get pretty extreme from dis point on, ya ‘ave ta do it all on one life as well or ya get yeeted back ta da main screen!” 

     “Did I get my hearts filled back up?”

     “Wat do u fink? It's supposed ta be a challengin game! Hence all da buzzwaws on dis level.”

     I tried to move back as far as I could but found out the hard way that it was impossible. I was shocked and sent forward again.

     “Great! Now ya only got one frickin heart left!”

     “Riz, you have to do something! One more hit and I'm history!”

     “Alrite, alrite! Keep ya hair on! I'll jus put da level select code in.”

     “You'll put the what in?”

     Riz clearly didn't have time to answer as my body started jerking. I jumped up twice, crouched twice and got dizzy as I looked from backwards to forwards, then backwards before forwards once more. To cap it all off I shot off my hook and then everything went black. I was still awake though, it was just the screen that went black.

     “Ah dere it is!” Riz declared as everything turned to the original colour scheme that I had been greeted with here. I thought I was on the first level again, and I prepared, in my head, the biggest series of insults I could hurl at Riz when some different music played and a robotic voice said:

     “You are winner! Congratulations!” 

     Before I had any more time to question things, things went black, and when I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of the TV as the game reset itself to the press start screen. I wisely unplugged it before Riz got any ideas.

     “Well, ain’t ya gunna thank me?” Riz asked, putting his paws on his hips doing a little pout.

     “Thank you?”

     “Ya welcome.”

     “Riz, when could you have put in that level select cheat?”

     “Uhh…I don’t wanna answer dat.”

     “Then answer this. Why didn’t you do that when you realised I was trapped in there!”

     “I used ta be ace at dis game! I jus wanted ta play it again!”

     “So, you put my life on the line to play a game?”

     “Yeh, pretty much. Wanna try two player mode dis time?”

     “No!”

     “Suit ya self, I’m gunna ave fun!”

     People would probably view me badly if I put him in a cage wouldn’t they…Another day in my life!

-----------------------------------------------

Well, that's all for this week! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed, despite it being brief.

Till next time,

Keep on writing!

Peter James Martin

Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble

Wednesday 18 September 2024

#89 Riz...The D.M? Part IV + Update

Happy Blog Day Everyone!

Just offering an update today, nothing too fancy but you do get the final installment of Riz's Dungeon Master exploits (I think I could have kept going with that idea!)

Speaking of that pair...


The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz


Here it is, the final part of this particular saga (how many times have I said that now!). Riz as a Dungeon Master has been a great source of material, but all good things must come to an end. With Halloween on the horizon, I've been thinking about trying a four part story for the spooky season, but we'll see what comes of it, as I have more success with spontaneous stories than anything planned.

Forgot to mention it last week, but part 3 of this series actually started life as a #vss365 tweet from twitter, originally being posted back in August. The idea was too good to pass up, especially considering what theme I'm playing with! There's been a few that I considering using for the comic since it's inception but this was the first, and probably not the last.

Update

So what have I been working on recently? Daemon Soul 2 of course! Titled Daemon Soul: Avalon (yes, the same Avalon as in Avalon Tales, Isabelle is coming folks!), and it's currently up to chapter 6, but storywise it's very early days, so things could, and probably will, change before the editor gers a look at it. Most of the returning characters from the first story have been reintroduced (with one notable exception waiting for the right moment...no it isn't Gabriel I'm talking about). A host of new characters have also been unleashed, and I can't wait for you to meet them all.

The first story has now been edited up to Chapter 7, and I'm excited by all the changes so far. The editor has done a stellar job with it, and though I've had to say goodbye to several sections, it's been worth it as the pace has been tightened.

I still haven't touched Brennan and Riz yet but with the spooky month approaching, I may be eyeing up then as the perfect time to get the books relaunched. Would be even better if I could get Volume 3 out as well but, what will be, will be. Keep an eye out for new links appearing for the books!

Lastly, I've yet to break ground on next week's short story for the blog (they seem to come around so fast!) but I do have an idea...if it's a good one is a different matter! All I can say is, it's another Brennan and Riz tale, and one that I may re-adapt later on down the line as a bigger short story, assuming I can hit what I'm aiming at.

That's all I got to say for now!

Till next time,

Keep on writing!

Peter James Martin

Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and the Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble






Wednesday 11 September 2024

#88 Riz...The D.M? Part III + Short Diversions: A Moon's Vigil

Happy Blog Day Everyone!

It's time for Short Diversions once again, and I'm going back to an old story idea for this one...Well, one that has featured in few previous blogs!

Before that though, let's see what's going on in the Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz!

The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz



Here's the third part of Riz's Dungeon Master adventure! I think next week should be the end of their session, where maybe Riz will encounter the true D&D players arch-nemesis...Scheduling conflicts! Or not, we'll see what happens!

As usual, I feel the need to apologise about the quality of the Comic, not necessarily the drawing side but my method of getting it on here. Some days my attempts to make it look like the paper copy work, other times...they don't, like today's blue example. If I had the money and space for a scanner...or a good laptop to do these digitally. C'est la vie.

Short Diversions: A Moon's Vigil

Today's Short Diversions is set in my often forgotten Drache Arm Luna storyline (as featured in the blog here, here, here and here)

There isn't a lot to say about this one other than what I said in a previous entry other than that the main gimmick in these stories is tha pendants that allow their wearer to summon a set of armour based around what Clan they belong too. There is no such transformation in this piece though, as it didn't really have a purpose. No doubt I'll write a more action orientated short featuring these characters at some point!

Please read and enjoy!

-----

A Moon’s Vigil


     Noire was starving, he couldn’t remember the last full meal he’d eaten, aside from what the good folk in the trader’s convoy had shared with him, since then he’d sparingly taken bites from the provisions he brought with him. What seemed to make his hunger worse, was looking up at his destination. Across the meadow, was the foot of the Crucible Mountain range, the tallest peak being Moon’s Vigil, said to be the closest point to the Moon on the entire continent. Noire didn’t know if the last part was true, but he looked up in awe all the same.


     It had taken him a week to reach this point from the Clan Halls, having gotten lost in the silent forest. It was only supposed to have been two days at most. He’d lamented his choice to go that route all the while, but he was here now, and that meant he had to focus on the next step, getting up the mountain itself, and doing so before the full moon faded away. For those in the Lunar Clan, a vigil at the Crucible Mountains was one of the best ways to get close spiritually with the Lunar Drache, the patron dragon of the Clan. The full moon heightened the experience. Normally, it was often the older members who undertook this, wanting to further the bonds they’re nurtured over a lifetime of service to the Clan, and by extension, to the Lunar Drache, whose spirit they wished to honour. While not unheard of for someone of Noire’s age, it wasn’t exactly common. For his part, Noire was a fresh recruit practically, having only gotten his pendant, the proof of his membership within the Clan within the last year. The eighteen year old had served the best he could but recent events had made him question things, and he saw this pilgrimage as a way to answer them, even if it had to come from himself. 

     No one had tried to stop him, on the contrary, they offered all the help and support they could, giving him advice on the best paths to take and what he should pack. How much of this he took on board varied depending on at which point he was paying attention. His mind was still very much preoccupied on events leading up to his decision, and some memories from before then which haunted his memories.


     Wanting some comfort, he took out his lunar pendant from the pocket he was keeping it in, though he did miss its presence from around his neck. He held it up by the chain so that it dangled in front of the sun, glinting in its radiance. It had been said that in each pendant, placed perfectly in the centre of each one, was one of the Lunar Drache’s scales, and it was these that reacted to the light of the full moon. This made perfect sense to Noire, given that it was the pendant that allowed for their wearers to gain access to the Lunar Drache Arm in the first place. It was for that reason the pilgrimage forbade its use unless dire circumstances called for it, but given that the mountain was largely a lifeless place, it was seldom needed. Placing the pendant back where it’d been, and after a moment to catch his breath, he started his ascent.


     The first part of the journey wasn’t too taxing for him, and allowed for some scenic views as he started to climb higher and higher into the sky, allowing the canopy of the silent forest to expand before him. He even imagined he saw the smoke rising from the trader’s convoy, where they had established a temporary encampment. He followed the trail the best he could, and was grateful for the rest stops everyone before him had crafted from the mountain itself, especially when the first storm hit and he was forced to bunker down. 


     As it raged outside, he took his blanket and wrapped himself up with it, the scent reminded him of home, and of the night he first met her.


     He had been trying to sleep then, as well, through a violent storm, when there had been a commotion outside the family home. Creeping to the window and carefully opening the shutters, he spotted a carriage that had overturned, and a young red haired girl trying to climb out. Throwing caution to the wind, young Noire went to her aid, albeit the best aid a eight year old could give. His actions had alerted his parents who hadn’t heard the initial crash. They rushed out as Noire was helping the girl out. Noire remembered that she looked a bit weird, her ears longer than he’d ever see, coming to a point almost. Her eyes as well, a colour he’d never seen before, a shimmering purple. She’d been travelling with a couple of guards who had been incapacitated due to the incident. Noire handed the girl his blanket, so she could put it around herself, but no sooner had he done so, another carriage pulled up. Two men came out, wearing Lunar Clan pendants, but they were dressed so ornately, Noire could only stare. He’d seen many Clan members during the meetings he’d been forced to attend with his father and met someone from practically every rank, but these men were something else. Wasting no time, they whisked the girl away, leaving the blanket on the ground.


     Morning came, and the storm had subsided, but unlike the cloud free skies from the day before, a grey sky loomed overhead. A sky like this only said one thing, that more storms were on the way. Noire gathered his things, and set off again, wanting to focus on the tasks ahead, so that he could be done faster, but his progress was slower, as the trail narrowed, and he was forced to make some perilous crossing due to the weather. He was getting close to the next peak when he looked back up again, hoping to see some patch of clear sky, that he might be able to work out the time more clearly, but was denied such a simple request. Instead, he had to gauge from the amount of light, which was already difficult, and not getting any easier. By the time it came to stop for the night, the next storm had already broken, with a stronger ferocity than the last. He was already exhausted from the climb, but had a fight in getting his shelter set up, but he managed it, and collapsed onto the blanket. The answers he was seeking had better be worth all this, he told himself, and then said nothing more, as sleep swiftly overtook him.


     His dreams were of her. 

     Of scant times they encountered one another after their first meeting. Each one ending as quickly as they seemed to start, and each one a few years after the first. No matter what they were supposed to be doing at that moment, they were able to find each other, as though some invisible rope had been tied between their hearts. It was during these that he finally learned her name, Clara Lian. To end these occasions, the different looking Lunar Clan would escort her away, back to what she was supposed to be doing, leaving Noire alone with feelings that he’d never could quite articulate. He never forgot the way she smiled at him every time their eyes locked again, though he knew it was just foreshadowing his social skills locking up, never being able to say much in her presence, out of a perceived fear of rejection.


     When he woke up the next morning, those images had lingered in his mind, and he felt content, embarrassed at how’d acted back then, but content all the same. The early morning light had given rise to what lurked on the horizon, as more storms were brewing, ones that looked bigger and far more threatening then what he’d already experienced the days previous. This, coupled with the fact that this was to be the hardest part of his journey, drained the happiness away from him. Still, he’d come this far, he couldn’t give up now. He prepared himself, and started climbing again, taking the utmost care, as he did.


     The massive storm broke out around midday, or least, as far as he could tell. Rain pelted him as if a hundred archers were using him as target practice. The wet conditions turned what was already difficult, into an almost impossible challenge, but still, slowly, he continued. There were moments where he thought he was going to slip, and fall to his death, and had it been his younger days, he would have fled back down the mountain the fastest he could. The thought of her persisted in his head though, the girl who he was forbidden from finding. That judgement was handed down to him after a previous meeting half a year ago. Had her guards noticed the way they would always find each other perhaps? Or was it simply a case of them belonging to two different worlds. Either way, the elders had spared no harshness in explaining to him that he was never to see her again, nor track her down. Not knowing what he was feeling, he could have only described it as being crushed, as though part of him had been locked away, leaving a void that nothing could fill. He despaired, but went on with his work. He had been officially inducted into the ranks of the Lunar Clan at this point, so was kept busy enough with different duties that he had to attend to.


     Climbing up the mountain though, Noire didn’t dare look up, just in case seeing how far he still had to climb proved to be too devastating, but there was a bright side. The weather, that seemed so unrelenting a short while before, was easing. The rain became nothing more than a little spraying, and the howling wind that had once tried to pull him straight from the cliff face, turned into a gentle breeze, till even both of them stopped completely. Faced with complete silence, aside from the movements of the rocks he dislodged in his travels, Noire found it eerie. He had become accustomed to the darkness but had believed it to have been the storm’s doing, but with that now passed, it became clear that night had fallen. After another twenty minutes, he finally reached the plateau that was on top of the mountain. He hauled himself up, and stood in one of the places so special to the Lunar Clan. This was Vigil’s Point, or at least, the original one. A copy had been made at the base of the mountain, for those who either lacked the skills to, or simply didn’t want to, climb the peaks. No one really knows who built the site, the expert craftsmanship on display with the shrine offering little clues as to who could have hauled all their tools needed to make such a thing, up the perilous trail. There were three benches, surrounding what looked like a font, where a small amount of water resided, acting like a perfect mirror. In it, Noire saw the gleaming full moon that appeared from behind a cloud. He looked up, and couldn’t help but gaze at its beauty, as it hung in the now clear sky. Noire believed that if he reached up, he could pluck it from its place. He took a seat and looked up, spending some time taking in the sights. Now, with all of the trials behind him, Noire breathed a sigh of relief.


     Without any prompting, he was reminded of a conversation he had with Clara, the very last time they had met. He hadn’t been looking for her, despite his heart telling him he should have been, instead, she had found him, noting that his orders certainly didn’t prevent that. The pair talked and he finally got some answers. Despite always being curious about her ears, he’d never spoken about it, but she divulged the information willingly to him, an openness that she never possessed before. She was a member of the Tel’geit, or blessed ones in the old language. The Tel’geit were often said to have been those who looked after the gods, and that was when Noire recounted his own encounter with one of the Drache Gotts, the three most powerful dragons whose existence kept the world in harmony. With this, they shared another bond, and they were as close as ever before. Sadly, he never got to explain his feelings to her as once more, her guards hurried her away, and from her own mouth, she tearfully admitted that might have been the last time they could be together. That meeting had been a month ago, and the turmoil in his heart had been the catalyst to embark on this quest.


     He was still no further forward with an answer, the indecision carving it’s way to his heart. He wanted the courage to do what he believed was right, but the different sides to him warred over it. The loyalty to his Clan, the loyalty to his family’s beliefs and then lastly, the loyalty to his own word. At the height of this inner battle, that was when he noticed the shadow on the moon. To his naked eye, it was faint, barely visible over a glimmer, but curiosity led him to look in the font, and there, he saw it with clarity. The shadow had taken on the shape of a dragon, flying over the moon’s surface. Its white scales shone with the radiance of the moon, and even though it was so far away, there was the blue glint from its eyes, and Noire knew that he was being observed. To prove this point, it stopped in the middle of the moon, spreading its wings across the surface. Noire stared in shock at the sight, as even though hundreds made the pilgrimage every year, no one ever described direct contact with the Lunar Drache, a creature said to be lost to legend the same as all over Drache’s, afterall, that’s why the pendant was said to contain a scale. Remembering about the pendant at that exact moment, Noire took it out his pocket, and held it up to the Luna Drache, and it started glowing a brilliant blue. The shadow on the moon grew more pronounced as a result, allowing it to be seen more easily without the font. Then, all of a sudden, the pendant’s glow changed, becoming more golden in hue, like the light from the sun was passed from the moon to the pendant that dangled in Noire’s hand, its power growing ever stronger. A voice inside his mind spoke simply and decisively, helping him to settle on what should have been his answer all along. The voice said:

     “Go to her.” 

    Wanting to give all relevance to the reason his Clan existed, Noire bowed to its judgement, and the apparition on the moon seemed to reciprocate before fading from view.


     Noire stood silently, allowing everything that had just happened to work its way through his head. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he had never felt better. He felt stronger, more sure of himself, and to that end, he put his pendant to his chest, and made a vow. A vow that promised to find Clara, no matter what became of it. He would rest now, but as soon as dawn broke, he would fly down the mountain, rules or no rules, and he would return, to find Clara and to admit everything he should have done in their earlier meetings.


     Tomorrow would begin a new stage in his life, and that of the entire world… 


-----

Well  that end this week.

Have a good one folks.

Till next time,

...keep on writing!


Peter James Martin


Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir 

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble

Wednesday 4 September 2024

#87 Riz...The DM? Part II

Happy Blog Day Everyone!


As its the first blog of a new month, it's time to look at my writing over August, so this will be a quick update this time! Before all that, let's see what Riz is getting up to!

 

The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz



Guessing Brennan choose the wrong choice there! What other mayhem will Riz unleash as the D&D game continues? We'll have to find out next week!


August Report


So August has come and gone, a lot faster than I would have liked! Writing wise, I wax only working on one story (with little bits of Daemon Soul here and there as the editor needed). That one story I worked on though? It was my submission for Malarkey's 4! Yes, my Will'o the Wisp story is finally done and submitted. It did come down to the wire, as it never wanted to end, or so it seemed. Got a lot to say about this one m, but I'll wait till the collection is out before I share anything. It was good to get another tab closed on my Google documents. With that said...

Blog storywise, we've faired better:

Fractured Shadows: A Daemon Soul story that focuses on Void, as well as newcomer, Malakai. Giving Void a new person to hate as well as sharing a look at the enigmatic Shadows.

The Blue Scarf of Whitby: The blogs second Brennan and Riz story. Following on from the Ghost Lights of Thornaby. This based the story in Whitby, around a small bit of folklore from the area.

That'll be it for all for now! We'll have to see what September brings, won't we?

Till next time...

Keep on writing!

Peter James Martin

Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble



Wednesday 28 August 2024

#86 Riz the D.M. + Short Diversions: The Blue Scarf of Whitby

Happy Blog Day Everyone!

It's short story time once again, and Brennan and Riz are returning for another short look into their crazy world! We've also got their comic shenanigans to deal with, so let's start there!

The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz

Note the "I" in the title? Yeah this is going to be a multipart thread...Yes, I am aware of what I said a few weeks ago but at the same time, I couldn't pass it up. This will be either three or four parts, depends on how many jokes I can squeeze out of it. Technically this will be the second time I've done a Dungeons and Dragons related story thread, with the first being part of my pandemic blues story.

Short Diversions: The Blue Scarf of Whitby

Here's Brennan and Riz's 2nd appearance within Short Diversions and I've plucked another tale from the master list of ideas. I had been saving it for a longer piece but couldn't quite fit it into anything at the moment. I may expand on it later (add more characters, flesh things out more etc...) but at least it'll be done in some form or another.

The folklore behind this piece isn't long, being about a paragraph in length, but I'm not going to talk about that now, as that'll spoil things! 

Please enjoy the following tale.

----------

The Blue Scarf of Whitby


“Gawd! I’m bored!” Riz yelled, causing me to punch my pocket. It was the tenth time he’d complained as such and that was nine times too many. We were in Whitby, for a job that never materialised. I didn’t see any sense in heading back too soon so went for a wander around the shops. Riz objected of course, wanting me back in the office and searching for a job that would actually pay. In truth, his attitude was making me want to stay longer.

“A few more shops,” I whispered, joining the large crowd of people watching as the bridge opened up, with boats passing through.gracefully. I had eyes on going up to the abbey, and actually enjoying some time up there where I wouldn’t be fighting for my life. I’m owed that much, aren't I?

“Oh, come on! Ya mite blame me fer da job screw up, but let’s jus go home already!” Riz continued to plead, but I continued to ignore him. A nice day was meant to be enjoyed. Our little jaunt brought me to a little curiosity shop nestled snugly down one of the side alleys off the main road. Little was the right word it turned out, as the shop was tiny, barely big enough for three people, which was lucky as it was only me and the cashier there. Sensing it was quiet, Riz poked his head out of my pocket, giving the place a good sniff.

“Dis place smells odd,” he said as he started directing his nose all around the shop. The cashier hadn’t noticed yet, so I plonked Riz down on a low shelf to keep it that way.

“Right, I’m going to have a look around, don’t touch anything and stay out of sight. I’ll just be a minute.” As you can already guess, these were famous last words for me. With new found freedom, Riz darted off amidst the bricker brack, giving everything the once over. Now the cashier seemed to notice me:

“Why, hello there!” he said with unexpected quirkiness. “Come for anything in particular today?”

“I’m just browsing thanks,” I replied. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wasn’t in much of a mood for small talk. My response seemed to be a challenge to the cashier as he doubled down on his attempt to make conversation.

“Oh, you look like someone who has the world on his back, maybe you could do with some calming stones? Got them just last week,” he pointed to a statue of a buddha next to me, it’s outstretched palm holding two jade circular stones that glinted in the sunlight beautifully.

“No thanks, last time I tried anything like that, they were ground down to powder in a few days.”

“Very stressful life then?”

“You have no idea.” 

“Hmm…I have other treasures you might be interested in.” There it was, the word that I wished had never been uttered. I didn’t need to see Riz to know that he would’ve heard it, a grin creeping across his face the whole time.

“Treasures? You mean, sentimental right? Nothing properly valuable?” I tried to discreetly look around for the rat, hoping that his never ending quest for treasure wouldn’t lead to any breakages that I would have to pay for.

“Of both kinds, depending on your point of view. Like that blue scarf up there, hanging on that doll.”

I cast my eyes up to where the cashier was directing me, and saw the scarf. It was a dark blue with an attached brooch. From what I could tell, it seemed to have gold stitchings running down its length and it did look like it would make a pretty gift for Valarie, if she cared about such things.

“Got quite the story about that scarf, I find that the more history an item has, the more valuable and precious it becomes. When it was first made, by the hands of some talented seamstress no doubt, it was one of many, but now? Now it’s practically one of a kind! A string of owners, strange circumstances surrounding each one as well…”

If the guy was wanting to get me more interested, he succeeded, that damn cocktail of strange circumstances. This was my undoing as I became distracted, and as such, didn’t notice a rat making his way up to the scarf. God knows what drew him to it, though it was probably the jewel in the brooch that was bigger than his head, and the gold stitchings.

“What do you mean by strange circumstances?” I inquired, oblivious to what was happening just next to me.

“Interested in it now are you? I must warn you, you should never wear it…” the cashier leaned in, probably thinking he was going to get a sale.

Before he could explain more though, we both turned our heads at the sound of a crash, as the dummy that once bore the scarf came crashing down.

“What on earth?” the cashier gasped. “Where’s the scarf?”

I noticed the scarf trailing out of the door, and before it disappeared, I caught a glimpse of the rat wearing it.

“A rat took the scarf,” I pointed at the door.

“The little thief! It has to be paid for first!” the cashier shook his fist.

“What happens if someone wears it? I asked quickly.

“What?”

“You said that I should never wear it, so what happens if someone does wear it?”

“Everyone who has worn it, has thrown themselves off Whitby Cliffs near the whale’s jawbone. Will probably be lost forever when the rat chucks itself off,” the cashier mused sadly. “One of my best talking pieces that was.”

“I’m going to get it back!” I shouted, and a second later, I was out on the street. Knowing where Riz’s final destination was to be gave me a slight advantage as I didn’t have to waste time looking for him straight away. I just had to get up there first. As I ran over the bridge, I overheard snippets of conversations, each one talking about the rat running off with a scarf, and how oddly it was walking, as if it was drunk. This was my second advantage, as it meant he was impaired by some process. I had a chance to save him, and I was taking it.


Once I was across the bridge I looked up to where I needed to be, and allowed my eyes to drift downward to the ground, wanting to see if I could snatch a sight of the scarf that was running away. Took me a moment for my focus to solidify as I Riz scurrying along, people giving him a wide berth. I held back from shouting out, it wouldn’t have done much aside from make me look like a crazy person. Then again, I was chasing a scarf wearing rat through the crowded streets of Whitby, so guess it was too late for that. I duly went after the rat again excusing my way past people as the crowds got inexplicably thicker. The next time I caught a glimpse of Riz, it was as he turned the corner of the road, and started uphill. I wasn’t that far behind him now. I was feeling pretty lucky that my job involved me regularly running around so much. I broke free out of the crowd and made up the hill, getting a few odd looks for my troubles. My progress was worth it though, as unlike before, Riz was firmly in my sights, and I was gaining on him, inch by inch. It was good timing, as ahead of me, I spotted the jawbones. I pushed myself more and more, till I had my best shot. I leapt with my arm outstretched. At first, I thought it had been in vain, as Riz seemed to speed up, his little rat legs getting some kind of boost. This led to him escaping my fingers, what doesn’t though, is the scarf itself, and I pulled it as hard as I could. I felt a resistance, as if the scarf itself wasn’t wanting to be parted from Riz, but between the rat’s forward movement and me, it wouldn’t last.

The scarf escaped Riz’s grasp and it sent him flying near the cliff’s edge while I held it at arm’s length, remembering that I shouldn’t wear it. Oddly, I thought I heard a woman’s voice, like a far off call. I couldn’t make out fully what she was saying but there was a  temptation there, to put the scarf on for myself, and maybe then, I could hear what she was saying, what she wanted to tell me. Before I knew it, I had retracted my arm, bringing the scarf close to my neck, my fingers running over the brooch, and I was about to put it on, till a pair of sharp teeth sank into my leg.

“Dat waz fer almost knockin me off da bloody cliff ya frickin twat! Be more careful next time ya twazzock!”

That sharp jolt of pain was enough to bring me out of the trance, the woman’s voice retreating back into the scarf.

“Oh…OH! What the hell did you bite me for!” I shouted, trying to kick the rat off my leg.

“I’m fukin not repeatin maself. Nd put dat stupid scarf down, or ya gunna take a long walk off a short cliff!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Dat gawdamn scarf is wat I’m talkin bout! Keep it at arms length! Sum clever dick put a curse on it!”

“A curse?”

“Aye, an old one at dat, must be at least two hundred years old, maybe a teensy bit olda.”

“Why would anyone curse a scarf?”

“Petty revenge? I mean, all my crap is cursed so if neone takes it den dey’re gunna ave a bad time.”

“Alice takes your stuff all the time.”

“Well, she’s different! We’re gettin off topic neway…Dis scarf is cursed, wear it, nd ya die.” 

“Guess that’s why the shop keeper had it on such a high shelf.”

“He could ave fukin put a sign up sayin it waz cursed!”

“You wouldn’t have listened anyway!” I started walking back down the hill, the scarf as far away as I could manage, but even then, I was still feeling a tug at my consciousness, an urge to wear it.

“How embarrassin, u breath a wurd of dis ta neone, nd I’m gunna bite ya sumwhere a hundred times worse next time, ya hear me?” Riz wagged his little finger at me, and then crawled into my pocket, having had enough of being a public spectacle for one day. 


A short while later, I had returned the scarf to the shop, not bothering to hand it to the cashier directly, I placed it back on the mannequin that had fallen, and then put it back to its position on the shelf. The cashier didn’t say a word to me as I did this, just watching and waiting with the eagerness of a child wanting to hear their favourite story.

“Well?” he finally asked as I turned to him.

“Well? Well what?” I returned the question, unsure of what he was asking me.

“What happened? Were you too late to save the rodent?”

“Unfortunately not.” I got bitten on my side for that comment.

“Ah, so the scarf wasn’t able to grow its tally? Maybe I should buy a glass box for it,” the cashier mused as he looked up at the scarf that simply sat there. “It’s funny isn’t it, how something so mundane can affect things more important than itself. It just sits there, as the world moves around it, yet things keep happening all the same. Maybe a bit like you?” the shop keeper said, turning to me with a raised eyebrow. Even Riz stopped what he was doing in my pocket to take notice of that.

“And what do you mean by that!” I stressed the last part and took a step back, but the cashier just gave a jovial laugh.

“I meant no harm, it’s just an observation, one that might be true of many people around here. We all affect things in our little ways, even if it’s not noticeable at first. No reason to get defensive!” 

“Right…” I replied, still suspicious.

“Oh well, I’m going to close up early today, so if you don’t mind leaving so I can get cleaned up,” the cashier smiled gently.

“We should be going anyway,” I said heading out of the door. “However, you need to be careful with that Scarf. Lock it up, keep it out of sight, whatever. Just, make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Don’t worry Mr Brennan, I’ll make sure it won’t hurt anyone else, and do tell Riz that blue isn’t his colour! You two always keep me amused!”

“How did-” I couldn’t finish the sentence before I found myself outside the shop, the door locked tight.

“Who waz dat guy!” Riz asked, sticking his head out of my pocket.

I didn’t have an answer for him, how could I? I doubted that this would be the last time we’d see that cashier, however, I just had to hope that he was on our side…


----------

So, the folklore for this one starts with a man giving his lady love a Scarf that he, uhh, "acquired" it (he was a pirate), in a hotel on top of cliffs in Whitby. The woman admires its luxurious nature and never questions how the man got it. Then, while looking in the mirror, she starts screaming and runs out of the building, and straight off the cliff. It was said that she was driven insane by the scarfs previous owners last moments, a way to get even beyond the grave.

As you can see, there's not a lot to it really which meant I was going to add a lot to fit it into a short story...Which proved difficult at first, hence why I languished turning it into a proper short. 

There was one element that only really got added to the end of the story, and it should be clear what (or should I say, who) that is. Yes, originally I was going to avoid the cliche of the cashier having some sort of knowledge of what was really going on, other than knowing a little about the legend, but words have a way of going in the direction they want to go, and thus, a new character is born. Of course, being in a blog only story doesn't mean much, so, I'll have to work on him further, identify who he really is, and then we'll see where we end up, exciting times right?

That's it for now, join me next week where I take a look at everything I written in August.

Till then,,,

Keep on writing!

Peter James Martin

Quick Links

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and Rat

The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir

Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble