Forsaken Progeny - Part 1, Draft 2, Revision 1
Getting thoughts from your head to the page can be a daunting task, and getting them from the page to the public can be even harder still. It is a fight that can be won, lost, and yet never entirely end. Filled with nuances, edge cases, excuses, results, and everything in between, it is a universe of its own qualities.
I have fought in such a universe for a few years now, with successes and failures a plenty. In pursuit of continuing that fight, it’s time to post some more writing, after such a long time not writing. Here I present Forsaken Progeny, part one draft two revision one, for your reading pleasure.
In my attempts to challenge my writing ability, as well as force myself to be better through repeated work, I have elected to focus upon a supernaturally based slice of life high school setting. Mostly because I hate slice of life and wanted to see if I could force myself to write in something similar to it.
Forsaken Progeny - Part 1, Draft 2, Revision 1
Many people would be hard pressed to have a better state of mind. It was pure bliss. Erhard laid back, his body felt as though it were being caressed by the gentle kisses of a thousand angels. Sweet peaceful music gently floated into his ears. Erhard wished that it would never end. But end it did.
The alarm clock ripped Erhard from his pleasant dreams with a harsh blast of reality. He sat bolt upright, his eyes still closed. Displeased at being parted from his sleep, Erhard grumbled and swung a hand at the alarm clock. He succeeded in silencing the alarm clock. As well as propelling it across the room.
The smooth black box of the alarm clock smacked against the far wall and slumped to the floor. Erhard was fully awake now, rampant concern that he might have to buy a new alarm clock, again, waking him from his tired stupor. He leapt from his bed and rushed over to the metal box. He picked it up and looked it over, the black metal covering sporting a few new dents from its flight. The digital display on the front spelled out “5:45 AM” in bright red letters.
Erhard let out a sigh of relief. He had woken up earlier as opposed to later, so there was that. He shrugged and returned the alarm clock to his bedside table. Erhard glanced around his bedroom. It was a relatively small room and quite spartan in appearance. There were no posters or anything to cover up the grey walls and the faded brown of the carpet did little to draw the eye. His twin bed and bedside table were the only other real pieces in the room. Yet they did not even seem to fit. The thought of remodeling popped into Erhard’s head, but he figured he think about that later. He had to get ready for the day.
Erhard stumbled into the bathroom. He must have prayed extra hard last night, because his shower was actually warm and comfortable for once. Erhard basked in the glory of the watery embrace for a few minutes longer than necessary. With a pang of remorse, Erhard got out of the shower and headed over to the mirror.
Erhard scrutinized his hair. Well, the hair on the front of his face because he was bald elsewhere on his head. The top of his head shown rather well in the mirror, the beard however was quite too scraggily and put him only one step away from a hobo. With a pair of scissors in his hand, Erhard made quick work of the misplaced hairs. Content that his face rug was socially acceptable, he sized himself up in the mirror.
A muscular man leered back at him. He stood at a tall six feet flat, a polished shiny dome, and a wooly beard that stretched from ear to ear. The man’s face and features were hard, as if someone had forged them on the anvil of a warrior and then beaten it a few times more for good measure. Unlike his beard, his chest was clean and utterly devoid of hair. Long black tattoos of chains and prayers inscribed in Latin crisscrossed his barrel chest. They were all arranged about a heavy iron lock jutting from his flesh, sitting directly overtop his heart. Erhard locked his eyes with the man’s own piercing greys.
He struck a body builder’s pose and flexed at the man. The mirror-man rose to the challenge and copied his posture exactly. Their thick muscles and chiseled abs bulged with strength. Erhard flexed again, harder this time. Not to be bested, the mirror-man matched his effort. Their respective slabs of toned flesh and corded muscle pulsed in unison. Anyone would be hard-pressed to find such muscular eye candy individuals anywhere else; they were truly paragons of the human form.
If you keep beating off like that, you are liable to break something.
Erhard leapt in surprise. In his motion, his knee joined with the sink in unceremonious matrimony, only to suffer a devastating divorce a split second later. The chucks of countertop rebounded off the mirror and sprayed all over the rest of the sink.
Erhard’s roommate, no, his mental tenant had finally decided to wake up. His absence would explain the pleasant, albeit brief, dream this morning.
“Verek,” Erhard hissed, “must you always startle me with undue commentary?”
Verek’s voice, thick and rich like a tempting molasses, rang with some laughter.
Only when it humors me or achieves some end, my dear Erhard. Now we can finally get rid of that bland sink and get something more fashionable. Something more suited for the both of us. I was thinking something in crimson, maybe anointed in virgin blood?
Erhard could never get Verek to behave nor ask for anything politely. He always had to manipulate to get what he wanted.
Always on about shifting me from my ways? It’s quite tragic really. We have tried for hundreds of years to taint each other Erhard, I have tried to dethrone your self-righteous ways and you attempt to divorce me from what comes so naturally. One millennia gone with nothing to show for it. Perhaps two will be our lucky number. It could be a play almost, I can see it now…
As usual, Verek’s thoughts and tone were of a self-absorbed, self-important, and egotistical individual. Erhard had encountered only a few demons in his travels, but he them quite intimately, if Verek was not evidence enough. So far as he understood it, Verek’s attitude was characteristic of upper echelons of their blasphemous society. Lucky him.
Trying to remove me from my position Erhard? Ruminating on the past, and torturing you with it, is my vocation dearest. But, reveling in the past will have to wait; we do not want to be late.
Erhard tensed up a bit and peeked out of the bathroom. His alarm clock read 6:45 am. Verek was right. If he spent too much more time doddling he would be late for work. And if he was late, he would never hear the end of it from his homeroom class. Erhard nodded and wrapped up his business in the bathroom.
While he was doing so though, he could not shake a creeping suspicion. It was a very rare occasion when Verek was helpful. The few times in the past that he had been helpful, the end result had always lead to something awful. Verek had a nasty ability to perceive the future in a way only his fiendish mind could comprehend.
Oh stop you, you are making me blush…
Raising a hand to his forehead, Erhard groaned. All these years of Verek’s commentary and it never ceased to displease him. Erhard snatched up some clean clothes next to his bed and rushed downstairs. His home was a quaint little two story building, with just enough space to accommodate his purposes but small enough to feel cramped. The joined bedroom and bathroom were the only two rooms on the second floor, with a small kitchenette and living room taking up the first floor. The spartan theme pursued throughout the entirety of the whole house.
Erhard stopped by his ever trusty coffee machine. Despite how relentless he used the damn thing, it always got him going in the morning time and time again. It was probably the most reliable entity in his life, including many of the people he knew. The pot still sported some of the brown caffeine fuel that he needed. Erhard could deal with day-old coffee.
Popping open the fridge, Erhard surveyed his breakfast options. Just like the rest of the house though, it was entirely too empty. There was a half jug of milk sitting at the back with a few condiments sitting unused and untouched inside the door.
Still thinking of sticking to that faith fueled diet my holy one? I sincerely hope that we acquire something more savor in the future. I do not think that we can starve and die, but I do not want to test that.
Heedless of Verek’s comment, Erhard seized the milk and quickly applied it to some stale cereal from the cupboard. As he was putting the cereal back in the cupboard however, Erhard noticed a little package next to the box. It was nicely wrapped and diminutive little thing. Contained within its clear plastic sheen was a little loaf of homemade bread. It had been a gift from the newest addition to the teaching staff. She had been ever so friendly towards everyone she met and strove to be the nicest person in every given room.
No matter how hard he tried though, Erhard could not remember her name. He could remember her face though. In a word, she was beautiful. A little on the small side, but they say the best things come in small packages. Erhard’s groggy mind felt clearer when he thought about her. Thinking about her smile made all the other troubles of life seem to melt away. Then, in proper form, Verek ruined the moment.
Such innocent little thoughts belie your true lust Erhard! I know your true desires for that woman and I must say Erhard, what you would do to her puts coitus between Succubi and Incubi to shame!
Erhard’s hard features twisted with his displeasure. He only wished that he could reach Verek’s neck and crush it. Erhard snatched up the bread and headed for the door. He did a quick onceover, and everything was in place. He wore a dress shirt complete with matching pants and tie. He even had his best belt on. Lastly, he slipped his black shoes on and quickly made for the car.
I can say that I am quite excited Erhard. This year promises to be quite an entertaining one at that. I look forward to watching you act as the damned shepherd for these forsaken children, to bring them to an apathetic salvation.
Erhard simply shook his head at Verek’s vague comment. With a twist of his key, his worn Buick stirred to life and off to school they went.
Reliqui High School, Room 107
As per the norm, Elise was bored. But this no regular boredom, this was a new level of complete apathy and contempt for her. The first day of school had to start and she already did not care for it in the slightest. She sat at the back of the room and played with a few of the pencils on her desk. A contemptuous flick sent one rolling up it and gravity pulled it back down. She tried flicking a couple pencils at time, hoping that the conflict of so many literary devices would spark a literary conflict. They simply rolled together in defiance however. Elise let out a disappointed sigh.
She looked up at the clock, its hands spelling out 7:29 am. Only a minute had passed since she had checked it last. She smacked her head into the desk with a groan of exasperation. Even the dull pain was boring.
Elise looked around the classroom in search of something else to take her attention. Homeroom was in Mr. Kappel’s room, one of the school’s many eccentric teachers. He taught history of all kinds, from ancient to modern, but he really loved the around the medieval ages. That, and the crusades. Namely the first one. The room reeked of it. The walls were covered in pictures, duplicates and original commissions, of holy knights and climactic battles. He even had a number of old candles littered around his desk and the tables at the edges of the room. Parallel to his love of the past, the supplies in his room were suitably archaic. The chairs were made from old wood and were somewhat uncomfortable to sit in and the front of the room sported a long black board.
No matter how hard Elise tried though, the archaic nature of the room could not hold her attention. She tried to ponder taking an interest in actually pursuing her studies this year, to stave off the boredom. But thinking about thinking to make an effort was too tiring, and existential, so Elise stopped. She looked at the few other kids in the room instead. There were about ten other students messing around in the room, babbling about the day to come or the latest gossip. Elise let another apathetic sigh. She perked up a little bit as the school bells chimed to note the start of the school day. Elise straightened and looked around. Mr. Kappel was not in the room. That was unlike him. Mr. Kappel led a pretty strict life inside and outside the classroom. She felt elated. The boredom gave way to a plethora of ideas on how to make Mr. Kappel never forget this day. Jokes and nicknames and all the nasty things she could think of.
Elise smirked as smugly as she could. She would not let him hear the end of this one. Slowly breathing in and out, she readied herself to make the best announcement of the day. She puffed up chest and was about to belt out a certain choice of words when Mr. Kappel’s massive form slipped in through the door. Elise almost gagged as her words hesitated in her throat. Mr. Kappel looked up at the clock and let a sigh of relief. He quickly made his way across the room to his desk in the back corner. He snatched up a TV remote and pressed a few of the buttons.
“Alright kids,” growled Mr. Kappel in his deep tones, “morning announcements are on. Be quiet and pay attention. ”
Everyone at Reliqui High knew to listen to Mr. Kappel, because he was not someone you wanted to have be angry at you. So the dull roar of conversation quickly died down. The TV mounted above the door buzzed to live and the morning’s announcements swirled into focus. Mr. Kappel sat down at his desk and began scrawling something out on his desk. Elise returned to her bored state. She did not care for the morning announcements, especially the stupid antics the office usually pushed through them. Again and again she sighed with nothing to occupy her for the next ten minutes.
Then a thought came to her, a way to cure the boredom. It was something that she knew she was not supposed to, especially at school. But she really needed something to do. Plus it would only be a problem if she got caught. She took a breath and began to concentrate. Closing her eyes, it was not long before she could hear them.
The sounds were like those of a radio, one that was just a little bit out of tune. With her eyes closed, Elise could see these clouds of thought like halos of flies above people’s heads. She cast her focus about the room, tuning into these clouds of thought. Her first target, a quiet kid by the name of Johnson, did not have much going on. It almost sounded like elevator music. Elise scoffed quietly, and moved onto her next target. Owena on the other hand was positively buzzing. Her cloud was lively; it was full of angry thoughts about her most recent ex-boyfriend, the ninth poor abused young man targeted by her, the latest gossip, shallow thoughts, and so on. It was fun listening to her drivel, but it felt like the bass and volume were far too high. Elise moved on to listening to Geralt, and she immediately regretted it.
His head was full of just raw thoughts. Elise could not figure out if he was thinking about fighting, fucking, or both. It was a wall of sensual sounds, piercing cries, and heavy movements. Elise shrank back from Geralt’s cloud, unsure if to feel aroused or repulsed. Elise withdrew her mental reach for a moment. She shook her head, trying to shake out that last image. She would have to remember to find an excuse to slap Geralt one of these days.
After a moment, Elise was back on the prowl for thoughts to listen to. She thought about tapping into another of classmates again. She was a little hesitant though. Listening into thoughts was a little taxing and she did not want to probe for lame thoughts about things she already knew about. Things she did not care about. Then another thought came to her, almost like someone had poked her with it.
Why not probe Mr. Kappel’s head? There could be no telling what goes on inside of his head. She might even be able to find out what gave him such a rough personality. So Elise turned her attention to Mr. Kappel and reached into his cloud of thoughts. It sounded like she had just tuned into a lecture. To her relief though, the speaker’s voice was smooth like molasses and a pleasure to listen to.
…The last few years involved a few very fast sieges and brutal battles. Oh, to see those great places at that time; Antioch, Arqah, and of course the Holy City itself. Knight Templar Erhard never got to see the siege finished however. On June 12th 1099, the 5th night of the siege, heathen raiders attacked under the cover of darkness. During which they managed to kill and capture a few of the Knights Templar, Erhard amongst them.
In their dark methods, the heathens saw a way to destroy the Knights and lift the siege. They would harness a dark power and turn it into a weapon of sorts. But in order to assume control over this power, they would have to bind into a vessel. A vessel of flesh and bone motivated by an indomitable will. The captured knights would serve as such vessels. In their night raid on the Knights Templar they had managed to capture seven knights, counting Erhard.
Taking the knights into the back alleys of Jerusalem, they bound the Knights in heavy chain and snuck them out onto a boat in the middle of the Dead Sea. There they would enact their ritual and save their city from the besieging Knights. They would have to wait until the following night, June 13th – the 6th day of the siege, in order to have the ritual act as intended.
They were not to succeed however. In the early hours of the morning of the 13th, Erhard was visited by the Archangel Azrael, master of death and retribution. Erhard knew that his end was near, but he begged for aid from Azrael. He refused to be weapon of the heathens to be used against his devout brethren. At length, he told Azrael of his past exploits and of the ones that he would never achieve. Azrael listened to Erhard and his staunch refusal to accept his fate. When Erhard was finished, Azrael sat quietly for a time, before responding with “You are a truly selfless and devoted son of our father, Erhard. I will tell you how you can break free of these heathens and rebuke their heresy.”
Azrael instructed Erhard to bite his tongue and paint a mark in blood with his tongue on himself before the heathens could enact the ritual. He ensured Erhard that when he was so marked, the ritual would fail and he would be able to deal with the heathens. When the time came, Erhard did as he was told and bit his tongue and make the marks as Azrael had shown him.
The ritual worked, but in the way the heathens had intended. Erhard was flooded with a wave of power and killed all the heathens before him. It was only after they were all dead that Erhard realized that in his frenzy, he had also killed his other captured his other brothers and set the boat aflame.
I like to call that the day I moved in. Did you get all that kid?
What do you mean “what?” Did you get that all or not?
Elise sat baffled. She had never had someone’s thoughts comment on her presence before. Then another voice popped into the thought cloud, this time one that was rather gruff and all too familiar.
Verek, who are you talking to?
Just one of your naughty students. Little girls should not poke around in other people’s thoughts, even if they are invited.
Elise snapped her eyes open and looked at Mr. Kappel. Mr. Kappel stared back at her, his eyes hard. She tried to say. Mr. Kappel just raised a finger to his lips and let out a long shhh sound. He mouthed “see me after class.”
