Two Halves: chapter 1

as per request am I continuing the series.

He sat in his small three-room apartment. Steam rose outside his window. The pane fogged up slowly, as the whips of vapor played around the metal framed glass. He sat on his bed. He felt dirty, like an intruder in his own skin. He was constantly scratching at some unknowable itch. Like a snake he wanted to rip the skin to pieces, to do away with the corruption of his outwards shell.

 

Snakes only shed when they have grown to large for their previous form. He thought about this a long while. Now only occasionally reaching towards his face to rub his nose of batter his ear with his nails. Did this mean something? He wondered. The silence in the flat gave no solace.

 

Maybe this did mean something. Maybe now was the time. Suddenly a spurt of energy jolted through his body. A spark of imagination had gripped his senses. Maybe now was time to see her! He bolted from the room. In his rush he tripped over the accumulated trash in his kitchen. His kitchen had become covered in the various wrapping of the insta-bars and meal packets from the pantry whose doors still stood half open from his previous raids. In the great arc he took towards the floor. He fell with his arms flailing in an effort to catch something. He did catch something.

 

His hand grasped a picture frame as he fell. It gripped it tightly and brought it down with him. He sat on the cold floor. The building had been poorly constructed. Out of one of those new TeraFlex boxes. Just lines of metal girders and slabs of concrete filled those retched crates. Now they were everywhere, and every building carried their distinct color. Gray the color of progress. He snorted at his own little joke. It wasn’t progress. Not in the slightest. They were falling backwards as a society as life became far too simple. Simple jobs, simple choices, simple life, and an even simpler death.

 

He looked at the picture he and lunged at as he had fallen. It was a picture of her, of Abigail. His fingers slowly tightened around the frame. His knuckles began to turn white at his own shame. He had been too rash, running now would kill them both, or worse. He had to be careful. He would need some help first. He would need supplies. And for god’s sake where would he find a decent summoning circle except from him!

 

He got up and brushed himself off. Then he calmly walked back towards his room and dressed properly. If he had left in that rush he would have departed in his under things. Hardly presentable, he thought as he straightened his tie. It was the blood red one. He always wore it on important days. And by god he was going to make today an important day.

 

He was going to have to enlist help if he even stood a chance against the auditors. He was going to have to pull together an army from these slums. He needed supporters, and the only people who know what was going on were under his control. Luckily he had something that he wanted. Something he just couldn’t pass up. He laughed as he lowered the file into his brief case.

 

He closed the case and with a complicated series of clicks adjusted the various locks that covered its surface. Nothing standard here, he reflected. None of the fancy blocks of leather that everyone else carried. This was a real safe, with real purposes. He patted the side and dragged his fingers across the matted leather. Various small holes had been worn into the side over the years he had had it. It was like an old soldier, broken and bruised. With his nose not quite pointing the right direction, but he was far better at winning than the new recruits. He got the job done. Quickly and efficiently, while the new boys were still trying to buckle their boots.

 

He opened the door slowly, and looked around each corner in case of a theft ambush. Couldn’t be too careful in this part of town, he reminded himself. Someone in the next block over had been killed when he had tried to stop them taking his precious belonging. Had they been as precious as his life? Probably not, but nonetheless he was gone now. His body had probably already been transferred to the blast furnaces. His ash made into compost for the fields.

 

He walked downstairs, and through the lobby. A guard was dosing in a chair near the entrance. His coffee slowly cooling next to him, it looked like one of the new synthetic ones. Not as good as the real thing, but far cheaper. They said they synthesized the best aspects of coffee and concentrated them into a drink, but really they had only learned that people drank anything brown with a satisfactory caffeine content.

 

He reached the exit and leaned forward to input his retina code. Like it really mattered, he mused. Each and every frame had been broken through; in the night the gangs invaded the lobby and scrawled their unintelligible signs on every surface. The rooms were in lock down by then. They became small fortresses for each family to hide in. A turtle retreating into its shell, and like a turtle it couldn’t live without its shell. The outside world was a cruel place, but a necessary one.

 

He simply inputted his scan because attempting to traverse the smashed panes was a frightful prospect. The edges of the glass protruded at odd angels and were likely the gouge the inattentive. He pushed the door open and walked out into the street. Neon signs glared at him angrily from adjacent shops. Advertising their various merchandise in the most annoying and unnecessary ways they could imagine. He looked up and down the street, disgusted that not a single decent magic shop occupied the buildings. Nothing but minor imps and the occasional lesser fiend here. Not a single artifact, and not a power rune in the bunch.

 

He turned and walked towards old town. A district that had no need for neon, with incense wafting from every building. It was a place of real magic. He needed to see Ole’ Ernie, the head of the crying saints. It was time to get Abigail.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

if you catch any grammar mistake would you mind informing about them in your comment. If it isn't to much trouble.

EDIT: I just want to let yall know. I am not editing old stuff. I will do the editing process at the end and will probably rewrite the entire first 10-15k words of the book. My writing has improved so much I can hardly recongnize it.

Reviews

[Manda]

oh! awesome!

[Darruesh Eetraydes]

Hmmm I'm not sure whats going on, but I'm curious to find out

[deeps]

Very detailed write here and loads of imagery.
This is very well written. Enjoyable read.

[Domenic Luciani]

Same thing going on here with the detail. Its good and well written, but it really weighs down the pace of the story.
The character's movements and actions seem to jump around a bit and arent very realistic..
The story seems a bit shaky and confusing as well, but thats not to say that it won't clarify later on, which it probably will.
"old solider"
"class" I think should be "glass"
I may have missed one or two errors, but someone else, or you will eventually pick up on them.
kepp going though, story has potential.

[Tanece Brooks]

Interesting. You are very descriptive and I like that. I can't wait for you to type more. I want to know more, and you have caught my interest. Keep up the good work, and I am looking forward to another chapter.