Dragon's Short Stories

[J.O.N ((Dragonwing))]

I'm doing a writing course at uni, so I going to have quite a few 500 stories and maybe a 1500 by the end of it. Decided I'll put them up here so you guys can glance at them and review them if you so desire.

Dream
The premise for this one was to write a story about a recent dream. Not much to say about this one, I felt I did a better job with descriptions then I usually do:

It felt like I was slipping back through the waves of some vast ocean. The water held no characteristics; no texture, taste, smell or temperature, I just knew that it was water. Tossed about by waves that echoed with oppressive silence. I struggled and thrashed about trying to escape it. It surrounded me and filled my mouth and nostrils, I panicked against the idea of drowning. I fought hard to keep the water from getting into my lungs, but every passing moment was agony, desperation for oxygen became an overwhelming need. Finally, I opened my mouth and gasped, expecting to be sucking in water. Instead I was greeted with fresh, lifesaving air. It exhilarated me and I could finally open my eyes.

I was floating above the ground, high enough to see the curvature of the Earth. Beneath me was rolling green hills, snow-capped mountains, and thin azure snakes that represented rivers winding amongst it all. I leant forward and I began to descend, the air rushing past my ears. It was like I was falling through a deep pool, the air thick enough that I was almost buoyant. There was still no feeling of hot or cold, but once again I knew that I was content, even as I drifted past the snow blasted tops of the peaks. Eventually I found myself touching down amongst the soft grass atop one of the hills.

Looking around, the scene had changed during my descent. The hills had become more cluttered with large boulders jutting out of the ground and the occasional oak tree stretching up with its large brown branches. Reaching out, I pressed my palm against one of the trunks of a mighty tree and felt the bark rough and solid. I began to walk down the hill, looking around for anything to tell me where I was. Even with a clear blue sky and lack of shade, I didn't feel hot and even after walking for some time I felt no exhaustion. Yet when I dipped my bare feet into one of the surging rivers, I could tell it was icy cold and refreshing like mint.

I followed the river downstream, watching as it began to take on a character of its own. Willow trees, reaching down to brush at the surface with their vibrant leafy tendrils. Rocks tossed about in the riverbed, their colour left dark from the spray of the water. I began to stumble over roots and sharp pebbles, my bare feet unhurt, as if they were unaware that they should be. I pushed on towards some unknown destination, content in my meandering. Even as the willows began to crowd in on me and the river, blotting out the bright but Sun less sky, I saw the beginnings of some light at the end of the tunnel. Pushing aside sharp and clawing branches, wading through repugnant stagnant pools I remained oblivious to the creation of the creeping swamp. The branches finally gave way and with an excited rush I fell into the warming light.

Cards
This one I had to write a story and make a causal connection between these three events, in any order: A structure collapses, a feather falls to the ground, and someone or something speaks for the first time. I liked this story, but I feel that the ending could be improved if I had Peter mess up his turn because he was distracted by the feather.

Cards were a favourite past time for Alex and Peter. Today they were sitting in Peter's lounge room, the afternoon light shining a deep golden yellow through the window beside them and the room had a warm and homely atmosphere. Between the two men was a simple wooden coffee table and they both sat in cosy love chairs, facing off against one another. Behind Peter sat a rainbow feathered parrot, roosting quietly as it watched them play.

“You take this stuff too seriously,” Peter moaned, looking at Alex as he carefully placed a pair of playing cards atop a half constructed house of cards. Alex's face was a deadpan mask of concentration, his remarkably green eyes focused intently on his hands.

There was no response from Alex. Just a sigh of relief when he removed his hands and the cards stayed still. The warm light of the afternoon reflecting off the white surface of the cards like lights on a stage.

Peter leant forward and picked up two more cards, holding them gently with his finger tips. He could feel their smooth texture daring his fingers to slip. They were close to completing the house and he wasn't going to give Alex the satisfaction of screwing it up. For a relatively quiet man, Alex could be insufferable with his smugness. Glancing up at him, Peter saw Alex watching him with a faint smile.

“Oh, shut up!”

With held breath he placed the cards and shakily removed his hands. A bead of sweat rolled down Peter's chin and he let out his own relieving exhale. Alex mocked a clapping motion and Peter stuck his finger up at him. There was a loud squawk behind Peter and the parrot looked down at the two men with a beady eye.

“Well done! Well done!” It cried out repetitively.

Peter threw up his hands.

“Oh yes! Everyone laugh at the victim!”
Turning to the parrot, Peter yelled and it settled back down, that didn't stop a few feathers being sent floating into the air.

“Fucking parrot! I'll make a roast out of you one day...”

Turning back to look at Alex, he watched as his friend carefully moved his two cards into place. They were only two more turns away from finally finishing and Peter was getting paranoid that it would be him who made a mistake. Alex was like some sort of house of cards savant as far as Peter was concerned and it always got on his nerves.

Managing to place the cards without any problems, Alex glanced back up with a huge grin on his face. He loved to push Peters buttons and was daring him to comment. Peter wasn't watching. Looking at Peter he caught the other man’s gaze and followed it up to a falling feather. He let out a soft cough and Peter looked back at him with surprise.

“My turn, huh?” Peter said with a phony groan.

Peter picked up the cards once more and weighed them in his hands. A meaningless act and it was clear to Alex that Peter was stalling. He gestured his hand for the other man to hurry up but Peter just glared at him. With shaking hands, Peter moved the cards in to position. Ignoring the look of sadistic excitement on Alex's face, Peter held the cards upright against one another and began to remove his fingers.

Both men held their breath for a moment. The air stilled and drops of Peter's sweat fell on to the tabletop. There was a shift between the cards and with a soft flutter, the cards collapsed setting off a chain reaction that brought the entire structure down.

Letting out a burst of uncontrollable laughter, Alex rolled his head back and grabbed at his stomach. He managed to catch the angry and intensely disappointed face of Peter and gasped out a response between fits of giggles.

“You get to clean up again.”

Rave
This story was inspired by Pete's amazing Autumn Came. It got good feedback from people in my writing class however they mentioned that the POV of Emily would probably be better then Ryan. I feel it would also be much better as a longer piece.

The air was charged with an impulsive energy given off from the dance floor. Lasers cut through the psuedo-smoke that coiled through the air and it made Ryan’s eyes hurt as the light rammed spikes into his corneas. Trance rave music pounding at his ear drums as the stench of sweat and acrid smoke clawed into his nostrils. Everything seemed to beat like an overdosed heart.

If it wasn't a chance to see Emily with her inhabitation let loose, he would never have come to the rave. Hundreds of perspiring bodies rubbed and ground against one another, some intentionally, others swept away in the almost feral crowd. Not one person looked alike, what little clothes people wore was designed to stand out and add to the sensory overload of the rave. Glow-sticks attached to skirts or fluorescent paint splatted across naked skin. Ryan found his senses assailed by a siege of sound and smell.

There was a tug at his sleeve and Ryan looked down at a pixie. It was Emily.

“-!”

It was obvious that she was trying to say something, but any sound that escaped her lips was swept away in the insanity. Ryan noted that Emily's face was painted like many others in the glowing makeup. It gave her an ethereal visage and her diluted pupils added to the otherworldly appearance. Dragging him by his arm, she pulled him behind her as she led him away from the crush and booming music. Her candy cane coloured hair bouncing behind her in a ponytail.

Following behind, he couldn't keep his eyes off Emily's costume. She had a skirt with the glow-sticks tied to it that left behind lines of light like fireflies. On her back she had a pair of silvery fake fairy wings strapped to a corset that barely kept her modest. What he found most surprising was her platform boots, he had never seen her wear heels.

“Can you hear me now?” Emily's voice shouted over the heavy repetitive base. It was faint but still understandable.

She had dragged him to a small hallway some distance from the dance floor. It probably led to the toilets. The occasional party-goer barged past them; either to relive themselves of all the alcohol that had drunk, or their sanity with what ever drug they had on them. Ignoring them, Emily pushed herself up close against him and he nervously swallowed a lump in his throat as he felt her sweaty and warm body pressed up against him.

“I'm glad you came, I was scared you would chicken out.”

Her mouth was close to his ear and he could smell the fruity drinks she had been drinking. He also picked up the scent of her perfume, the only part of her that seemed familiar to him. He didn't have time to reply, instead she grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the living madness that the night had created. He could do nothing but follow along enchanted by his pixie.

[J.O.N ((Dragonwing))]

Rave (revised)

This is the extended and revised version of Rave that I submitted for my writing class.

The air was charged with an impulsive energy from the dance floor. Lasers cut through the psuedo-smoke that coiled through the air and it made Ryan’s eyes hurt as the light rammed spikes into his corneas. Trance music pounding at his ear drums as sweat and smoke clawed into his nostrils.

Everything beat like an overdosed heart.

If it wasn't a chance to see Emily without any inhibitions, he would never have come. Hundreds of perspiring bodies rubbed and ground against one another, some intentionally, others swept away in the almost feral crowd. Not one person looked alike, what little clothes people wore was designed to stand out and add to the sensory overload of the rave. His black polo shirt and jeans stood out stark amongst the glow-sticks attached to skirts or fluorescent paint splatted across naked skin.

There was a tug at his sleeve and Ryan looked down at a pixie. It was Emily.

It was obvious that she was trying to say something, but any sound that escaped her lips was swept away in the insanity. Ryan noted that Emily's face was painted like many others with the glowing makeup. It gave her an ethereal glow and her diluted pupils added to the otherworldly appearance. Dragging him by his arm, she pulled him behind her as she led him away from the crush and the booming music. Her candy cane coloured hair bouncing behind her in a ponytail.

Following behind, he couldn't keep his eyes off Emily's costume. She had a skirt with the glow-sticks tied to it that left behind lines of light like fireflies. On her back, bouncing as she moved, were a pair of silvery fake fairy wings strapped to a corset that barely kept her modest. What he found most surprising was her platform boots.

He had never seen her wear heels.

“Can you hear me now?” Emily's voice shouted over the heavy repetitive bass. It was faint but still understandable.

She had dragged him to a small hallway some distance from the dance floor. It probably led to the toilets. The occasional party-goer barged past them; either to relieve themselves of all the alcohol or throw away their sanity with drugs. Ryan could not comprehend how the shy Emily from class would voluntarily come to a place like this. Ignoring them, Emily pushed herself up close against him and he nervously swallowed a lump in his throat as he felt her sweaty and warm body pressed up into his.

“I'm glad you came, I was scared you would chicken out.”

Her mouth was close to his face and he could smell the fruity drinks she had been drinking. Clasped around her delicate neck was the silver heart locket she always wore, the only thing that seemed familiar to him. He didn't have time to reply, instead she grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the living madness that the night had created.

He could do nothing but follow along enchanted by his pixie.

Pulled in to the madness of the rave, His mind tumbled as he was shoved back and forth between bodies of indeterminate shapes. The smell was much worse as he was pushed up against the sweating and crazed dancers. If it wasn't for Emily's small hand that gripped his wrist like a vice, he would have been swept away and lost in the delirium. Tumbling along behind her like a balloon left to the mercy of the wind, he was amazed by how she could find a small space of calm within the crowd.

“Dance with me!” She mouthed, once again her voice was lost in the music.

He didn't have much choice. Pressing her body up to him, he was keenly aware of the curves of her body and the smell of her body odour, a mix of sweat, alcohol and the faint hint of her perfume. He had no idea what he was doing, but Emily quickly took the lead and began to gyrate her body against his.

Her hands were held up into the air, the lasers lighting her face up in technicolour.

It was impossible to resist her grin and wide eyes and Ryan began to move his body along with hers, a smile splitting his normally sour expression. Soon he was lost along with everyone else and the beat of the music drove out every errant thought except his intense focus on Emily and the way she moved.

He had no idea how long they danced together. It felt like hours. All the songs that the DJ played sounded the same to Ryan and all he could do was try and keep pace with the way Emily spun and jumped in time to the monotone beat.

It was all too much.

Reaching out he clasped Emily's hand and she twirled to look at him, concern finally wiping away her expression of ecstasy. She seemed to realise the situation immediately, noting the beads of sweat running from his forehead and his haggard expression.

Once again she guided him through the throng of dancers. He stumbled a couple of times bumping into the occasional person. It didn't matter through, they seemed to move with the interruption as if it was just part of the dancing.

Emily pulled them to the bar. It was almost as crowded as the dance floor but with out the same intensity. With all the tables taken, she took him to a section of wall where he could sit on the floor without the fear of being trampled. The moment he collapsed, any feeling he had in his legs vanished and he was left helpless; panting for breath in the thick smog filled air. Emily gave him a worried look and hurried off to the bar.

He did not see where she went.

A wave of nausea overwhelmed him and anxiety began to creep in, without Emily he was at the mercy of the rave. People became strange shadows that blurred and coalesced around him and the smell had began to make him feel sick as it wafted up off from the dance floor.

Why did she leave?

Where did she go?

Was she coming back?

The thoughts swirled about in his jacked up brain. He felt as helpless as some child left abandoned in a shopping mall. Lost and without anyone that he knew or could trust. A drunken party-goer stumbled into him and almost tripped. Looking down at him she let out a loud laugh and slapped at his knee. He flinched away. Everyone was far too touchy and Ryan was worried he would become a target for some drunk.

The anxiety kept getting worse and he felt faint and dizzy. The smoke filled air of the building clung to his skin and it felt like it was way to hot to breathe. He tried to stand up but his legs were still weak and with a sense of dread he realised he couldn't remember where the exit was.

At school, Emily was the one that was easily lost. She was usually too timid to talk to other people and sometimes Ryan would get a text in class asking him for directions to a lecture hall. He had never thought the roles would be reversed. Now he was the one that couldn't summon the courage to ask for help from the strange people around him.

By the time Emily returned with a glass of water, she found him eyes wide and sweating.

Rushing to his side she clasped his shoulder and shook him until he turned to look at her. Seeing her calmed him and allowed him to focus on someone familiar, even if they had fairy wings. Taking the water he began to sip at it and Emily knelt down beside him.

“Why didn't you say you were tired?” Emily's voice was as concerned as she looked.

Ryan could just shake his head and cough down a mouthful of water.

“You were having so much fun, I wanted to keep up” he managed to croak loud enough for her to hear.

Emily swiftly brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, an obvious tell that she was laughing.

Before Ryan could say anything she dove forward and hugged him. For the third time that night he found himself in direct and intimate contact with Emily, the noise of the music and crowd drowned out by a rushing sound in his ears. He hesitantly began to bring his own arms up and felt her push herself further into him. He was acutely aware of her shoulders smooth skin as he clasped her with his hands.

“I'm so sorry for making you do all this, I guess it's not for everyone.” Her apology trailed off as she talked a bit too fast.

“It's fine, maybe next time we could just see a movie or something?”

Emily pulled back and looked him in the eyes and nodded.

“Thank you.”