The wind flew through his hair as the eerie chants became faster and faster. He chewed the dried root and revelled in the feeling of weightlessness. The screech of a battle cry signalled the beginning of the procession and they rose as one into the sky.
The wails of the Bean Sidhe rose up from the riverbanks to greet them, their bloody clothes forgotten for the moment. The night was full of the ghostly sounds of the immortals on the prowl. Never did he feel as powerful as when he was leading a procession through their lands.
A scout screamed, a human fool enough to leave the safety of his village had been spotted. There was always one. Tyrae concentrated long enough to find the prey: an elderly man cowering as he ran down the track looking for safety. He would not find it until morning, if he survived. With a smile, Tyrae lead the procession downwards, getting just close enough to drag the man in the whirlwind of their wake. The mortal screams mixed in with the screeches and chants, an evil chorus of sound that filled Tyrae with exhilaration.
No stealth, no sneaking: for the night they ruled the land without challenge, even the Seelie Court cowered in their hill and waited for the night to be over. His rule, tonight, was absolute; his power immense.
Then he saw the light. A beckoning blue glow as unearthly as anything this night. It hovered outside the low house of one of the mortals. Tyrae grinned and swooped toward it: a new spirit to torment. His jaws ground down on the dried root, his muscles rippled like wild animals under his skin, his joyous war-cry echoed through the night. He couldn't resist it -- faster, faster, fas--
VFFTZPTFHUH!!!!
The O'Halloran Bugtrocutioner II. Zaps even the most unseelie of pests. Only 12.99 at all good hardware stores.
Opening: Sylvia.....Continuation: ril
14 comments:
Unchosen continuations:
His penis tiny. No one saw it at night, too dark, too shadowed, too small. But by day, the Banshees giggled and shreiked at his endowment.
Night is my only salvation he thought. Hight, dark night, hiding night, the eternal balckness wiping out his shame. At night, the Bean Sidhe accepted his tongue, his fingers his fumbling itty-bitty manhood in their screaming, frenzied orgasms. By day, they abused him mercilessly.
--Dave
Tyrae raised his clinched fist in triumph. "No mortal will queue up ahead an immortal when Harry Potter hits the shelves this time."
--Bill Highsmith
No one - not even that cowardly conductor - was going to keep the Bean Sidhe Choir and Marching Band from winning the state competition this year.
--freddie
Tyrae looked again at his comrades and underlings. Yorie stood with his long ears rigid as stillettos. Mopin's back feet were still covered in the blood of the old mortal. And all were willing to kill and to die at the smallest thump from him. First, they would kill the mortals, then the GreenBean Sidhe, and finally all who stood in the way of the Burrow.
He was Tyrae Lapin, and from this night unto the black mask of eternity, this world would be known as:
The Land of the Flying Death Bunnies.
(Special nod to bunnygirl.)
--Pacatrue
Dipping low, Tyrae caught the sweet scent and saw the eerie green glow coming from a glen near the riverbank. With a Sound and a Fury signifying every evil that had ever been, the procession swirled and settled like mist on the glen where busy elves hurried within neon-lit passages that connected one hollowed-out tree to another. The evil chorus of sound lulled momentarily as the procession consumed the freshly baked cookies, along with a few Keabler Elves. The screaming, chanting whirling procession arose in discord and headed overland to fields full of lowing dairy cows waiting to be milked.
--ME
“This is the place!” He stopped outside a low building and the procession jostled to a halt behind him. Tyrae kicked open the door and strode inside. The inn fell silent. Had they believed they would be safe here? “Come on boys! Let’s help these fine fellows mourn their loss!” Tyrae’s men streamed in as the landlord poured dark ale from a trembling pitcher.
Tyrae took another piece of root from his pocket and began to chew; he was invincible. “Dobbsie.” He slapped one of his men across the back of the head. “Your shout.”
Dobbsie stepped toward the bar as the chanting began again:
You can stick your fucking Euro up your arse,
You can stick your fucking Euro up your arse,
We’re gonna pay in pounds ‘til we’re sick of buying rounds,
Coz En-ger-land has won the cup!
--ril
"Damn your souls," he hissed; a serpent not cast out. Tyrae grinned. He shouted a great whooping cry of exhiliration. He shouted, "Damn your joy! Damn your leprechauns and your green ale and your inflatable four leaf clovers. Damn your souls to purgatory if you're fool enough to stay out for the Saint Patrick's Night parade..."
--ril
"Danny!" screamed Michelle, her plastic princess tiara quivering. "You heard what Mom said. Get back here!"
"Let him go," said Lina, twirling her wand. "It'll be more fun trick-or- treating without him."
--Khazar-khum
"How long will the whirling dirvishes be in town?" the elderly man asked.
"One night only. Take it or leave it," he said.
"We'll take it. Two tickets, please."
He tore two tickets from the strip. Being in control filled him with exhilaration. He wielded his power with strength and confidence.
--Church Lady
With a whoop, he punched the air; his followers cheered. The famous battle song of the clan began to play.
The music stopped.
"It's our mam." Tyrae looked at his younger brother who was pointing at his cellphone. "She wants youse home."
"Jeez, man. Tell 'er we're busy. I'll be home later." Tyrae looked at the other men and rolled his eyes.
"She says, Now. She wants to know who took da's licorice."
"Annoying cow." His eyes scanned the road. "Where'd he go? Anyone see where the old bloke went?"
"She heard that. You're frikking dead when you get home."
His face stayed proud, but behind his eyes something faltered. The banshee wailed in the distance.
--anonymous
When I read this I wondered who or what Tyrae was. There isn't much that tells me that in the opening other than Tyrae {he/she/it} is hunting {?} an elderly man with a bunch of banshees. So I'm already unsympathetic to Tyrae.
Paragraph 3:
Why does Tyrae have to concentrate long enough to find the prey, when a scout has already spotted it? What's the point of a scout if not to lead them to the prey?
Change the comma after morning to a dash and italicize "if."
Change "With a smile" to something stronger. "With a shriek," perhaps, or "With a hungry grin."
Change "mixed in" to "merged" and delete "evil."
You might delete "The screech of" in paragraph 1.
I liked the substance, though it seems this is a regular occurrence; and thus it's not clear whether this event has anything to do with the plot, or is just introducing the world.
The continuation was really funny.
As to the original, I was confused. I could like it but spent a lot of time wondering what was happening. If you clarify some points, I'd probably read on.
Why not name who the "he" is and tell us thaat they are a clan of the unseelie or banshees or whatever up front? I was a bit confused reading this without that information.
The "they" in the first paragraph was a bit of a suprise because I thought he was alone until then.
In the second pargraph - whose bloody clothes? Thiers?
The Unseelie's ride through the world is a common premise and I don't see enough of a hook to take this story above the norm. Are you starting in the best place?
I love that first paragraph. I think it is really strong. The second paragraph is also excellent except I don't know who the Bean Sidhe is (funny name) and who the immortals are. Is Tyrae a Bean or an immortal? My assumption is that he is an immortal but then these are his lands, right? Then why is he in battle on his own lands against what looks like a settlement of mortals? Maybe all these are answered in the next few paragraphs but I guess the idea of who and what he is shouldn't be so confusing up front.
I really like that 3rd paragraph and I love the image of the old man getting dragged into their wake. Very cool. THe last sentence is a bit of overkill given all that came but not knowing what comes next, maybe it works.
Overall, I really liked this alot.
Is Tyrae the "he" of the first couple of paragraphs, or are we dealing with two creatures? Why not give the name in the first place, to reduce the confusion?
First sentence of the second paragraph, "their" bloody clothes -- the Bean Sidhe's clothes, or the procession's, whoever they are? And at the end of the paragraph, "their" lands -- the Bean Sidhe, the immortals, or the procession?
On a deeper level, I'm not sure what's going on here except some bad spirits on a rampage.
The continuation is perfect.
Hi Sylvia,
I agree with ello - your first paragraph is very stong and leads me to want to know more.
I'd change the word "became" to "came" in the first sentence just because its sounds better to me - no big deal.
Because I had to Google Bean Sidhe, Seelie Court (and Tyrae, too, just in case the name held significance)- that may mean I'm not part of the target audience for this - but I liked it.
And the continuations were all good. The "chosen one" was so funnyn and so well-written, I could picture it as I read along.
While I like beginning with version of the wild hunt, the piece seems full of non-sequiturs and odd bits of interspersed "telling."
HA! Ril, you kill me!
Author, I've read enough fairy tales (both Disney-esque and Anderson-esque, both complete fiction and based on old legend) to know what you're doing here. My only concern is how you'll make it different from every other dark fairy tale out there.
I immediately thought Raymond Feist as I read this. In a way, that's good. But he also had a pretty good version of the Dark Hunt in his Faerie Tale, I'd want to see what's new before I read much further.
Then again, anyone who hasn't steeped much in fairy tales would probably be enthralled.
LOL, Paca! You're thinking sort of a cross between Watership Down and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, I take it?
I thought this NB was full of atmosphere (eerie) and tension. I liked the writing style and while I am not a fan of dark fantasy, this opening was intriguing enuf for me to want to read on. It also made me want to write a cont. but the chosen one was terrific and also ril's, HAHA! I wasn't confused and followed the progression of the procession eagerly. Very strong "voice" of the narrator. Also mind EE's comments!
*happy dance*
EE's commenting! Whew, takes the pressure off the rest of us, eh?
Pacatrue:
(Special nod to bunnygirl.)
Bunnygirl:
LOL, Paca [gush, gush, gush]
Puh-leeze. Just get a room, would ya?
A couple of comma splices made for some clunky sentences. Otherwise nicely atmospheric.
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