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Tuesday, 24 November 2015

Wattpad Page

Watt pad?  That one!

Okay, I feel better now.  Had to get that out.

I made a Wattpad page about 6 months ago, when I wrote the first chapter of Downfall.  It didn't get any views so I just stuck with this page that already has an audience.  I've heard good things about it since then though and so I'm going to keep this page as my blog and for random writing and just link to new stories as I post them over there.

I also found a cool public domain photo which I used as a cover for the book.  Click the image below to visit my Wattpad page!

Wattpad - Downfall

Monday, 23 November 2015

Downfall Chapter 3

The light drizzle did little to wash away the blood and vomit from his clothes.  The small alley was unlit except for the night sky and was as good a place as any to catch his breath and gather his thoughts.  Jake knelt in the grass and dry retched violently.  In his mind he’d seen all kinds of horrors, but in his 8 years he had only seen the least of them for real.  And had committed none, of note.

One of his many unexplained talents was being able to extract the truth from someone, however hard they thought themselves to be.  He’d never tried it before, but had no doubt of his ability. 

The senator was involved in so much more than even Jake knew.  Drugs were just the beginning, and were just to finance his less mainstream hobbies.  It took a lot to extract all the information from him, leaving little more than a husk of a person, his confessions extracted, along with whatever humanity he may have had left.  When he was finally permitted to die, it was mercy.

But that was all.  The senator was greedy, he was evil, he was responsible for deaths and unspeakable suffering and didn’t seem to have a redeeming feature to him.  But he knew nothing.  Not a single answer he was looking for, just more crimes leading to more crimes, and no answers.

When you know you’re insane, it is hard to know the right thing to do.  Not knowing would be so much easier, he could just be whatever he was and let God or the Devil or the courts and shrinks sort him out.  But he couldn’t hide the truth from himself, he was insane, maybe even evil, but he didn’t want to be either, perhaps that was his one redeeming feature?  Perhaps the only difference between him and the senator was that he knew he was wrong.

He realised he was crying, face buried in his hands and promptly stopped.  Children cry and he was a child, but who was there to listen or care?  Who would understand if they were?  He knew he gave up his childhood when he started on this path, and there was no turning back and going home now.  He couldn’t just run home to his parents, say sorry for running off and go back to normal life like nothing had happened, not after what he’d done.  He certainly couldn’t run around playing with his friends while the voices screamed at him that he will kill them all.  Death was the only freedom.

Ringing filled his head.  He’d done all he could for the world.  Despite everything, despite the voices, the hatred, the insanity, he wanted to help.  Now he had done the best he could.  A person like him couldn’t really help others, he could only help by hurting, it’s what he was good at, it was what he did.  He rid the world of some darkness that no one else dared approach, and now he would help the world again, by ridding it of himself.  One more dangerous murderer gone.

So many more dangerous murderers alive.  No one else knows what he now knows.  All useless information.  Useless to him, but how many lives could he save if he went on just a little bit longer? Let everyone know what he found out in the last moments of the senator’s life?  Was he so selfish that he’d throw all that away just to save himself a few more days’ suffering? 

If he lived a few more days, would he lose all control and bring about more suffering than he could prevent?  He was too dangerous to live…

A murderer either way.  He was lying on his back cackling with laughter now.  If he died, countless will suffer and die at the hands of others.  If he lived, who can say what suffering will be caused by his own hands?  It was beautiful.  The voices sang to him, “There is only death,” and he only laughed in reply.

Jake drew his gun again and held it to the side of his head, a wave of sorrow washed over him for an instant and he held it down before he could break into tears again.  He looked at the bloodstained ground around him and took a deep breath, at last it would all be over, the torment would end. 

It was his duty to protect others.  It was the only thing he knew for certain.  Protect them from himself, if needed.  Protect them from himself, and allow them to be tortured and killed by others?  He was a coward.  The voices had always told him that.  He only wanted to save himself from what he might do, and was willing to sacrifice anyone to ease his own mind. No.

Anger welled up inside him as he finally rose to his feet, gun still held against his head.  He wasn’t going to blame others for his weakness, he wasn’t going to let it be someone else’s fault.  He knew what was needed to save countless lives, if he turned away, he killed them.  If he lived, he might kill many more himself.  But he was not a coward.  If people were going to suffer and die, he wouldn’t let others take the blame.  It would be by his hand, or not at all.  It was his responsibility.

His mind cleared and his finger relaxed on the trigger.  The ringing got louder, like it was coming from all around him now.  Sirens.  Police! 

He was too close, he was supposed to be a long, long way from here where he could never be connected to this, to protect his friends and family.  Not a few hundred meters down the block, covered in his victim’s blood.  “Idiot!”  The voices chorused the word in his head.  He got up and ran, he remembered where to go now, where no one could catch him.  He only hoped he didn’t leave his escape too long.

Sunday, 22 November 2015

Downfall Chapter 2

The room was almost undefinable to the human eye.  The walls, the ceiling and floor were all near perfectly transparent.  It was as if they were crystal or diamond, but the floor was soft and warm, the walls solid and clear, the ceiling vaulted high and shining with an ethereal brightness.  Everything had a slight variation in colour, almost imperceptible.  The furniture appeared strewn about almost randomly, made of strange combinations of materials that made no apparent sense together.  The only things recognisable were a computer console and some hand written documents strewn on what must have been intended as an office table.

To Myla, the room was beautiful, to her every colour was distinct, every material complemented every other with cascades of colour and textures forming perfect gradients.  It was also practical.  No one could see inside, it was only transparent one way.  And most who entered the room had such poor perception they couldn’t walk 10 steps without falling in a heap.  Security and aesthetics in one.  Anything less would be undignified.

Standing a hand below six feet tall, with dark brown hair in a braid to her waist and green eyes, she wore a pristine white gown with sleeves covering her arms and the dress splitting down from her waist to her knees, revealing equally white skin tight pants.  Every inch of the fabric seemed to glow ever so slightly.  Imposing at the best of times, it was often said in hushed tones that she could kill with a glance.  Fortunately no one knew just how true that was.

The man standing at her door, awaiting her invitation in was clearly dangerous, even to her.  In his black, full body Guardian’s armour he stood near 8 feet tall and could readily take apart an entire space station single handedly.  The material that made up the room was her best hope of escape.  He would assume it easily destructible.  It was not.  If he wasn’t careful he could kill himself trying to shoot her through a wall or table, and he had no reason to think he need be that careful.

She stood at the largest wall of the room, looking out at the stars and the planet in the distance below and beckoned subtly with her hand, causing the door to open and admit the Guardian.

He walked in without a word right up to stand a comfortable distance from where she stood.  Most would have taken a good minute to navigate that far into the room, perhaps his visor offered better vision than she realised.  He beckoned and the door shut behind him.

“Why are you here?” Her expression and voice were entirely matter of fact, she could tell the man in the armor was angry, but not more than that.  Until she knew more, that was the best she could do.  “Your dead husband,” he paused a moment, gauging her reaction - there was none - “Tell me why he is dead.”

“Why ask me now?  He is dead because somehow a Guardian and a squadron of fighters couldn’t hold off an Outsiders attack 50 years ago.  I would have thought by now at least the Guardians would have worked out what went wrong, even if they didn’t make it known.”  She showed just the appropriate amount of offense one should show on such a touchy subject.  No one controls her emotions but her.  But this was the one topic she’d hoped he wasn’t here for, he suspects what she’s been up to.

Anger now showed through in his voice, “I’m asking you because a petty group of Outsiders does not defeat a Guardian led squadron and because in those almost 50 years a lady of your influence and alleged love for your husband has failed to make a point of that fact.”

Surely he didn’t think she was involved, imbecile.  If that was it, this would be easy.  Indignation now, “I most certainly made a point of it, I spent two years demanding the matter be looked into, and had the Emperor personally assure me…” He cut her off.  “You may have convinced everyone else that you simply stepped back and accepted his death on the word of the Emperor, but I didn’t and I know for a fact you didn’t either.”

For the first time since she heard of her husband’s death, Myla was shocked, her mouth hung open for a moment and she had to contain a gasp.  What just happened couldn’t happen.  Had never happened, must never happen!  A Guardian just told her he didn’t accept the word of the Emperor.  If anyone ever found out, they would both be killed, along with everyone who knew why, and probably everyone who knew them, just to be safe.

Her voice was weak and breathless, “What are you doing?”

“My loyalty is to the Eternal Empire and my duty is to ensure its future.  Only a Guardian could have enabled him to be killed and only the Emperor could have covered it up.  If the Emperor can no longer be trusted, there is no future.”

“You can’t say such things!  A Guardian or the Emperor would never do such things!  You’re insane!”  He wasn’t, he knew, he was trying to trap her, she was a fool, he set her off balance.  Hopefully she acted horrified enough.

The Guardian removed his helmet, revealing his face.  Myla wondered if anyone had seen the face of a Guardian in her entire lifetime.  There was no law that set any penalty against a Guardian, they were above reproach, but this… He was helpless now, without full armor on, she knew she could kill him effortlessly, before he could react.  She could do it with impunity now, he exposed himself, if she killed him in self-defence he’d be written off as an impostor and that would be that.

“I don’t care for you, your dead husband or his philosophical nonsense.  I’ve gone as far as I can without help, and you are the only other one I know who is searching for the truth.  You want the truth for your own reasons.  I want the truth to save this great Empire and all its people from corruption and death.  You don’t trust me, but you won’t get any further on your own either.  If you trust me and I am lying, you will suffer and die.  If you don’t trust me, you will spend the rest of your life achieving nothing, and then probably suffer and die.  Make your choice.”

Now she knew.  He was angry at himself for having no choice but to risk coming to her.  What he said wasn’t entirely true, she was getting further on her own, but he clearly thought she was just in it to avenge her husband.  All they ever wanted was to protect and help their people, all people.  They were both willing to die, but not for nothing.  This man was willing to sacrifice everything for the good of the Empire, the people of the Empire, not just the Emperor.

Myla looked directly at him and for the first time showed him a genuine emotion in a small wry smile.  “We need to find a better place to talk.”