Learning curve

Apologies for lack of entries been hectic with work health yadda yadda...however I have just begun a creative writing course I am hoping that it will help me become a more rounded writer and help me to write more fluently (instead of the stop start way I currently do!)

Bash

The Child

Been awhile since an update....here is an excerpt from another of my "limbo shards" short stories

The Child

He had ran, mainly because he was terrified of the men in their dark suits and dark glasses. He had had no choice he watched them as they killed his father and his mother had pushed him forwards shouting “run!! Just run!!” so he had. Then the pain hit him like a punch in the side of the head and everything had gone black. When he opened his eyes everything had gone white…brilliant white however he noticed that it didn’t sting his eyes odd he thought. He felt the side of his head and his hand came away sticky he looked at his fingers. Blood oozed between his fingers the crimson seemed to stain the clinical whiteness that surrounded him. His head hurt he tried to stand and his head swam sinking to his knees he vomited violently regurgitating his lunch of fish fingers and the custard he had for dessert. The vomit was a brilliant yellow on the white sand. He sank back to his haunches panting vomit smell in his nostrils and drying on his t-shirt. He began to cry tears sliding down his cheeks mingling with dried blood and vomit and splatting on the white sand below. Huge wracking sobs shook his body as his small frame his brown hair covered in blood on the left side of his head cracked as new blood started to ooze from the wound below due to the pressure in his head. Slowly after what seemed like forever he finally began to stop he had nothing left he was spent he curled up into a ball and slept hugging his legs up under him his pyjama bottoms covered in fine white sand and he slept how only the young can when they are spent. He awoke a few hours’ later head pounding, mouth dry and stomach cramping he tried getting to his feet. This time he succeeded a wave of nausea hit him but it passed and he stood there looking around him for the first time. Endless white all around him no sun no clouds just white. It stretched out before him like god himself had duluxed the world because colour was too much hassle and would have clashed with the furniture anyway. He had never been in scouts, an ill fated trip to the boys brigade was as close as he had come to that sort of thing and that had ended when he had got thrown down hard by one of the older boys playing wwf (he had been hulk Hogan but he wanted to be the undertaker) his mom hadn’t let him go back then. His mom where was she? He didn’t know he started to well up again but his stomach decided to remind him that crying was not going to feed him. He gulped down air to strangle the sobs. He decided that any direction was a start so he began walking forward.  

The Doctor Is In

I first came along Doctor who as a 7 year old watching sylvester Mcoy take on daleks with ace by his side.
It was a very long time before i got bitten by the bug again. 2005 and there was a new doctor for the first time in almost a decade. However first time round it didn't grab me, nothing to do with the show itself more to do with my current obsession (my then girlfriend) however she would eventually fade away but the Doctor would remain..waiting. Last year thanks to a certain TV company (no name dropping) I got the bug again I watched every episode on demand of the Tenth doctors run and i was hooked. I had some serious catching up to do but i did it easily flying through the Amy Pond years and beyond. Since i started writing on and off again a few ideas bounce round my skull but very rarely about characters that i haven't thought up.
The Doctor however...well he is there again...waiting.

Here is a brief synopsis of a story I'm starting to put together involving The Doctor.

Doctor Who and Saracens End:

During the time war, time lords held strategic points in different systems. The eleventh Doctor and his companions Amy Pond and Rory have answered a centuries old distress call from one of them on a moon called Saracens End. Fearing a Dalek trap the Doctor locks Amy and Rory in the T.A.R.D.I.S and heads off to investigate. Finding the distress beacon and scanning the records the Doctor finds that its much worse than a dalek trap, a weapon had been used on the base, a biological weapon Taylor made for use on time lords. Infected the Doctor makes it back to the T.A.R.D.I.S determined to find a cure before its too late. you see the virus dose not just kill a time lord it makes them degenerate through every regeneration until they no longer exist, now Amy and Rory are in a race against time to save the Doctor they are going to need help, fortunately the T.A.R.D.I.S knows just where to get it...

A taste of my novel

Chapter 1

Last Train Home

“But there’s still tomorrow forget the sorrow and I can be on the last train home..”

The rain drummed on the window.  Joe stared blankly ahead listening to his music and regarding the  blackened skies outside. Trying in vain to get comfortable in the little space allowed in the train carriages seats, a throb in his lower back promised of the pain that would be there upon waking the next day.  Only two other passengers were on board the train carriage.  An elderly gentleman sitting in a bent L shape just opposite of Joe.  It seemed to Joe that he had a hungry look in his ruhmey and cataract scarred eyes.  Like an old lion waiting to be fed.  The other was a tall dishevelled looking man with lank and greasy hair covering his face, his filthy clothes gave off a horrible stench that smelt like a mixture of urine and rotting flesh.  Joe thought that this was a homeless person (or a crack head nowadays it was hard to tell) who had grabbed the last night train, knowing that there weren’t many checks (if any, Joe always brought a ticket but it was rarely checked between stations)  Joe turned to the window countryside went past the darkness seemed to stretch outwards from the train itself.  The rain was coming heavier now the machine gun like drops seemed to be falling in time with the drumbeat of music on Joe’s headphones.  As much as Joe hated leaving Helena back in Manchester he still liked the train rides home, they gave him a sense of peace.  He could relax (well as much as the space allowed someone of Joes lanky frame anyway) listen to his music and think about her.  Trips up to see her had become less frequent as the months dragged on the need for her to do uni work , Joe also had to work at the club and it seemed the later in the year it got the busier it became. The tannoy with its broken speakers and tinny sounding voice, burst into life to tell all passengers at Birmingham new street will be the last stop on the journey and not to forget their belongings.  Joe watched as the train began to pull into the station. Joe closed the book he had been attempting to read during the journey. Got up and put his book into his backpack.  He made his way down the carriage to the doors, noticing as he did so that the homeless man seems to be staring at the old man with a strange look on his face.  He stepped off the train on to the platform, this late at night most of the platforms were empty, he liked it like this as opposed to the furious hustle and bustle that took place during the day.  Joe was not fond of crowds, they made him feel hemmed in and clumsy, always fearing he would bump someone. He started  up the stairs towards the main entrance,  glancing back he saw the old man shuffling towards the escalator by the side of the stairs and just behind him the looming shape of the homeless man (or crack head) walk slowly to the bottom of the staircase. Joe continued upward and came out in the main corridor that linked all the platforms. The bright fluorescent lighting gave the appearance of daytime however the shops and eateries that would normally be serving over priced under cooked foodstuffs and magazines were all closed

She

She danced and sang all of the night away

with me at the end of days

we danced together just me and her

the lights surround us bright and dangerous

we danced through time leaving no trail

she was so beautiful silhouetted in the lights

her eyes lit with joy my hands on her sides

we danced together once and for all time

for what seemed like forever she was all mine

the end came suddenly and with an absence of sound

she was gone and im alone in silence now

but I remember the dance and it gets me through

because somewhere she's dancing and smiling

and that gets me through.

The caretaker

The Caretaker

Limbo  Is not as devoid and desolate as it may sound. It was once said that all roads lead to Rome...well all dimensional rifts lead to limbo...eventually. Limbo sits at the nexus of all of the multi-verse. Rifts open up every now and again and deposit the contents from some random universe into the nothingness of limbo. This is how the caretaker came to be there. He does not remember how he came to be there (and that is a different tale for another time). Time does funny things inside limbo and it affects his memories but he does remember the sensation of falling and a blinding light. The caretaker (or that’s what he calls himself his old name is a mystery to him) keeps limbo tidy not too difficult when you remember that it’s basically an infinite white nothingness.  However now and again objects large and small fall through rifts and into the white wilderness of limbo.
 Like the house. The house was old. Not so old as to be falling apart but it had the feel of an older building iron radiators lower door frames and a kitchen that wouldn’t be out of place in a quaint cottage. Cast iron stove with a pile of logs waiting to be used to boil the kettle or cook some food. The old wooden staircase creaked as he moved on it. The Living room stacked from floor to ceiling with knickknacks, statues and allsorts that the caretaker had found liked and brought home (he was kind of like a magpie except he picked up most crap even if it wasn’t shiny) He sat in it now, one gnarly fur covered hand caressing an old picture frame, strange he hadn’t touched it in years (or was that days?) He vaguely remembers when he first found the house and the picture.
 Years ago (or was it months he was not sure) He had been wandering the great white. That day had been quite eventful he had found a strange machine with wings like a bird. It had come through one of the rifts its pilot a female human had died either on impact or more likely due to the shock of passing through the rift. Humans were fragile like that he thought they seemed to brake easily. Where was he…? Oh yes the day he found the house. He felt like he had been walking for a very long time (or not at all) after the strange craft when he saw it on the horizon a huge rift opened. Bigger than any he had seen before, and out it came sliding almost gently onto the ground.
  The caretaker had just stared at it wondering how something as solid as a house had fallen through a rift. The outside appeared to be undamaged from its journey. The square windows with their white painted frames were all intact as was its moss green front door with a silver character unknown to him, it gave the impression that the building had a sad face and a green mouth with one silver tooth. He approached it cautiously. Examining the door he saw that it was ajar slightly. Mustering his courage he pushed it gently and it swung slowly backwards. The hallway was deserted however. All the pictures had fallen to the floor and were lying there coated in a film of plaster dust. A wooden hat stand was smashed across the stairs coats spilled on to the floor like black and green pools of water. “hello?” he called out not knowing if he would receive an answer. None was forthcoming. Un-shouldering his pack he placed it gently on the floor next to the front door. Walking towards the first open door he heard a crunching sound. Looking down he had trodden on a picture he bent down and picked it up. Shaking off the loose glass he studied the picture. Two small human boys grinned back at him they were either side of a table and appeared to be drawing or writing. He sighed and placed it carefully on the floor leaning against the wall. He made his way into the first room.
 The devastation in here was much worse, most of the furnishings were broken and there was glass everywhere. Some of the things looked salvageable but he wanted to explore further before he started poking through the debris. He headed back out into the hallway and started towards the next open door. This turned out to be the kitchen, In here was not so bad as the other room many of the cupboards had spilled their contents all over the floor but nothing looked too badly damaged. He bent down and looked at some of the cylindrical objects that were scattered around…one had a picture of tomatoes on another a picture of a fish. There were words printed on them but he could not read the strange language. Taking a small knife from his tunic pocket he stabbed into the can with the picture of a fish on. Juice shot out it smelled salty continuing to work the knife up and down he managed to saw the top off the can glistening fish flakes were in there covered in what remained of the salt water. He gingerly popped a small chunk in his mouth. It tasted really salty but not un pleasant he smiled as he sat down and finished the rest. After he finished, he looked round the rest of the room.
 The room was painted yellow here and there on the walls there were drawings, obviously done by a child some were quite good others were hastily drawn and were more scribbles than anything else. He moved around the room looking in the cupboards and draws for anything that could be of use. In one draw he found many eating implements as well as lots of different size screws and nails, putting them in his pack he decided to explore upstairs. Heading out into the hallway he climbed the stairs which creaked loudly in protest. At the top there were three doors the one opposite him he recognised as the bathroom its large white tub and tiled walls, however he was at a loss as to why there was a white chair with a hole in the people that lived here must have been uncomfortable sitting on that he imagined. He nosed around looking at the sponges and the soaps, opened up the small cabinet on the wall which was filled with many different bottles all brown in colour with white labels in that writing he could not understand.
Closing the cabinet he moved onto the next room, this room was decorated more than any of the other rooms it had blue walls and frilly curtains hung at the window. More picture frames lay on the floor…except for one it was of a human boy it hung on the wall opposite the bed, He stared at it, it was one of the boys from the picture downstairs, his green eyes stared out from under a mop of brown hair he was smiling in the picture and next to his mouth there was a little red mark like he had cut his face or picked a spot. This must be the boy’s home he thought so this would be the room of his parents. As he moved round the room he felt like he was being watched he kept turning round to look at the picture of the boy his eyes seemed to follow him round the room.
 He sighed and turned the picture around to face the wall, even so he still felt the eyes on him while he looked through the wardrobes. No good in there clothes made for humans wouldn’t fit him well but maybe he could fashion himself something out of several items. In the corner of the room was a large mirror he strolled over to it. His reflection stared back at him, his grey woollen tunic did indeed look as though it had seen better days as did the head band that tied back his long blue grey ears. He twitched his whiskers and the reflection did the same he smiled showing of his white teeth and four large incisors, he winked one of his large brown eyes he still got it all right…shame that none of his race were here to appreciate it, especially the females. He scooped up some likely looking fabrics and threw them on the bed, he would come back to them later he decided. Leaving the room he turned int the last of the rooms, this must have been the Childs room the walls were adorned with pictures of a strange machine that was blue and had a smiling grey face, the same motif was on the bed cloths that were on the small bed in the centre of the room. There was a large yellow box at the end of the bed full of toys and a small bookshelf on the wall which held a few slim books and some larger thicker ones.
There was a picture on the bedside table, picking it up there the boy was in the middle green eyes shining a big grin on his face wearing a t-shirt with the grey faced machine on. Either side of him were two adult humans probably his parents. The female had dark curly hair and wore large glasses she was dressed in a dark top and jeans she was holding a small sapling. The man appeared to be losing his hair which gave him the look of someone trying to grow a Mohawk without having to shave the sides; he was dressed in a green jumper and was holding a spade in one hand. He replaced the picture where he had found it and began to make his way back to the other room.
The building shook violently snapping him out of his reprieve, a rift was opening close to the house, a big one by the feel of it. The caretaker put down the picture frame and strode out into the hallway, new paintings adorned the walls now and the repaired coat stand stood next to the door, another big shockwave rocked the house and it fell onto the floor. He picked it up and removed his coat a long brown duster that he had found on another poor unfortunate who fell through a rift. Who or what would today bring he wondered. He sprang out the front door and looked up the black grey crack in the sky had appeared which heralded the rift opening, strange they had not opened up by here since the house arrived years ago (or months you never could tell). The noise began a loud thrumming noise which set his teeth on edge, the electricity swirled round the building vortex striking the ground by the house. It seemed to him at that moment that it was like fingers reaching out trying to find a purchase. Suddenly the centre of the vortex turned a deep purple and something came tumbling out it hit the ground and rolled. He ran over to it. It was a body he sighed and rolled it over. It was a body all right a human male blood had soaked through his clothes and one side of his face had a huge gash from his temple to his jaw. The caretaker was used to bodies they turned up a lot more recently, This one was different though….this one was breathing.

Places to go...

Hey guys

Last post I covered a lil on what some of the characters are like, today's post is as it says about the places...

Club e-den: Is Joe's work place and a fictional bar/nightclub in sunny Birmingham. Owned by Murry it caters to the alternative culture in brum offering theme nights and a few...unexpected guests. Meeting place of Joe,Dan and Helena when they aren't all working. It has an in house DJ set on Friday and Saturday night and has a special drinks shelf for some of the regulars in the VIP section out back.

Terra: Is what you would probably call hell daemons live here its mostly a vast wasteland desert but a few city's are spotted around some of the natural oasis's. Its leader is the Immortal Lucifer the fallen angel of legend other wise known as Satan. He likes reality Tv, Simon Cowell and long walks past the rivers of sulphur.

Haven: Is exactly what it says its heaven home of the angels and occasionally the big man himself. Its a lot like the cloud city of bespin but with less storm troopers...

Limbo: one of the dimensions filled with nothing and endless amount of grey and is kept "clean" by the caretaker.

The station: Is a crossing point that links the three "main" dimensional planes of Earth,Terra and Haven.

Mal's Books and antique store: A dusty shop in brum that sells old relics and books. the store owner is a tad unusual.Joe gets old comics from him.

That's It for today just wanted to list a few places hope everyone is good.

Bash