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Hard Copy

November 15, 2017 Leave a comment

He sat at the little desk, focused on his hand as though he could look through it. The bandage wrapping around his palm was red to the knot and he wondered if the bleeding would stop this time. The last time he had drawn his blood, the little cut had bled for over three days.

The paper was almost clean. Two words dried in the middle of it. Wasted space did not matter.

He had used his magic to make the world in his image. The cost be damned, he had forced the world to bend to his will. For him, the expression ‘written in blood’ was real.

The child remade him.

He lowered his head, tears leaking down his cheeks. Broken of both body and soul, he was out of currency.

Some prices were too expensive to be paid.

One last breath whispered across the page. The passing of the air drying the words, “She lived,” to the page.

****

I wanted to point out that I have updated my links to include the PRINT copy of my book. Forever is now available in paperback from Amazon.

 

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Categories: Book, Horror, Writing

Car Bomb

March 23, 2016 Leave a comment

George stumbled down the hall, one hand on the wall and the other holding his stomach. With every step, his feet drug a little more.

“I’m not going to make it,” he mumbled.

The explosion rocked the hallway, and George thought the building might be coming down on top of him. Pain erupted in his guts like a volcano, burning and tearing at his consciousness. He felt his pulse hammer in his temples as he struggled to take another step.

***

“Don’t you think you might be a little dramatic in that description?”

Martin turned to look at his wife, Carla, and gave her a sheepish grin. “Dramatic is what sells stories.”

“Really? Drama about having the flu and not making it to the bathroom from the couch?”

Martin felt his face heat up from his blush. “This is supposed to be a crime story where the hero got shot in the gut.”

She nodded, looking at him with a skeptical smirk. “Right. Sure. And the fact that you had a little case of the flu last week has nothing to do with that description?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay Mr. Writer,” she said, a devious grin spreading across her delicate face. “Then what exploded in the hallway?”

Martin turned back to the screen and frowned. “Uhhhh. Car bomb?”

She laughed as she left her husbands office.

Vacation

September 17, 2015 Leave a comment

I want to start by apologizing for this not going up yesterday. There were issues.

On to the point. I will be on a three week vacation. Since this is a writing exercise to keep me writing regularly and to keep me trying new things, I have decided to wait until I get back to continue the story. Writing ahead and posting the content isn’t exactly keeping with the point of this. I will see you all again in October.

L. E. White

Categories: vacation, Writing

A request for help please

June 22, 2015 4 comments

I need to ask for a little assistance from any of you that will share your opinion. I am looking for recommendations of leading men in classic literature who were great romantics and lovers. I am working on a new story and I want the leading lady to have an infatuation with these classic characters. The problem is that I don’t know these stories for that element.

I know that romance as a genre provides a lot of different things, but I am looking for the famous literature. As an example, if I wanted to find a character who had a cunning, and unparalleled mind, I could mention Sherlock Holmes.

So, what leading characters, in what books, do you recommend as scorching lovers, even if the story doesn’t describe the encounter in detail? My characters imagination can do the work, but I need the names to drop as fodder for her imagination.

If you could please help, then thank you in advance. Feel free to comment or message me. However you feel comfortable answering.

L. E. White

Categories: Writing

Drip

June 17, 2015 2 comments

Short blurb of good news. I have received an acceptance. My mental asylum story, Rorschach, has been accepted by Sirens Call Publications for an upcoming anthology. I am signing the contract as soon as I finish typing this post.

L. E. White

Drip

I heard the soft thump as another drop fell to the floor. It hit the tile, just to the right of my shoe, and I wondered if it would be easy to clean up. I didn’t know. I had never made a mess like this before.

To be honest, I had never really been the one to clean up. That was what she did. I would hammer and saw and paint and fix. She was always the one who cleaned up.

The next tiny splat brought me back to the present. It brought me back to the demolished couch, the broken table and the pieces of drapes and blankets.

“Bad dog.” I whispered the word. I couldn’t yell around the lump in my throat.

Drool dripped from his jaws again, but this time, it landed on my shoe.

UserFriendly Strip Archive – May 09, 2014

June 2, 2015 Leave a comment

I started reading user friendly during lunch before writing. Currently, my WIP is a Lovecraftian tale. This strip is perfect, because it is correct. Us great old ones have to stick together.

UserFriendly Strip Comments.

Something wrong with that horse

I don’t know why, but I seem to be in some sort of funk. Two weeks ago, the story I wrote was just sad. I realize that there is a time to write something tear jerking, but I don’t know who would want to read it.

So last week, when it started to shape up that way again, I scrapped my story and wrote a new one.

This week, I wrote a tear jerker of an old yeller variety and shelved it before writing the blurb below. I don’t know why everything is coming out sad. Some psychiatrist somewhere probably does, but I refuse to pay to find out.

Who reads sad and depressing? I may have found my niche if I can find an audience.

Oh well, I decided to post something else. I just don’t think people want to read sad. If you think I am wrong, let me know.

Today’s story is another attempt to get out of the rut with a bang. I hope you enjoy it.

L. E. White

Shield

Josh rolled to the left, around the door frame, a second before the shotgun knocked the window out. The glass flew across the room, sharp edges cutting holes in the bags of white powder that sat on the little table.

Josh tried to keep going left, but he slammed his thigh into a table and fell on top of it. His leg went numb, but when the next blast knocked a hole in the wall a little ways in front of him, Josh guessed that tripping had saved his life.

For a few more seconds.

The pan on the next table was filled with crystals, just like the other eleven pans.

Too bad none of these had drugs in them.

When the shooter kicked the door open and peeked inside, Josh was hobbling towards the exit. The guy laughed and Josh heard the shotgun click as his attacker pumped it.

Josh grabbed the pan and turned back to face the door. He held it up in front of him like a shield, praying that the crystals wouldn’t be mistaken for drugs.

The man took aim, and Josh tried to smile as he thought about taking the building with him.

New Serial – D.O.M.R.A.D.

February 11, 2015 2 comments

Hi,

I have just finished the third short story of the year and am working on editing a submission for an anthology. The next thing I am going to be writing is my first screen play, which will spin off of the latest story. Busy writing times.

At the same time, I keep trying to produce a new flash story here. Normally, these are just a little snippet of whatever the voices in my head decided to talk about on the morning I decide to write. That is why they are seldom related.

Today though, I intend to write a serial.

I have written other serials and posted them on here, but it wasn’t intentional. There have been three, but only one of those was supposed to be a serial. The others had someone out there leave a comment asking to know what else happened.

This time, I am using it as research.

While I am editing and re-writing as a script, I still have ideas popping up. The most recent of which was a cursed meat fork that turns whatever it stabs into a carnivorous version of itself.

Believe it or not, that is the seed that is feeding this serial. It won’t be in this story, but the meat fork of animation has a place in another story and I believe it might be novel length. That means that I have a little world building to work on.

This serial is going to set up for the meat fork story. Some of the characters and most of the locations will be involved. I don’t think this pre-writing will ever manage to be a publishable story on its own, but I still need to get the ideas down. At least this way, it can serve dual purpose. I hope you enjoy this.

L. E. White

D.O.M.R.A.D

01

The door opened and everyone got out of the elevator. All four students stepped into the lobby and moved to form a semi-circle around a woman in a navy blue pant suit.

Sam glanced around the room, but it was bland, with old, uncomfortable looking chairs and a little coffee tables between every other pair. A coffeepot and a vending machine stood in the corner beside a single door.

“Hello,” she said. “My name is Haley and I will be your tour guide today.” She looked like she was somewhere in her sixties, but her voice was still strong. She was almost as tall as Sam, but he couldn’t see if she was wearing heels or flats. There weren’t very many women that looked him in the eye at six foot three, so he figured she was wearing heels.

Sam looked her over, trying to get a feeling for his guide. She was clean and professional looking, but there was a small bulge in her jacket that he thought was a gun. She might have been some sort of federal agent, but he wasn’t sure.

“Now then, I know you are all anxious to get started, but we need a little bit of information on you first. Could you all please take a seat? I need you to fill out a couple of forms before we start the tour.”

The kids all took their seats, and Haley gave each of them a clip board with a sheet of paper on it. The top of the form had “D.O.M.R.A.D.” printed in thick black letters. Below it, were the words, “To Protect and Learn.”

After the group handed their forms back in, Haley smiled and looked around the group. “Welcome,” she said. “When you started school, you were given many tests, and in some of these tests you showed aptitude and potential in specific fields. You were monitored and tested throughout the years, and continued to demonstrate the qualities that we desire. Because of that, you have been invited here so that we might discuss your futures.”

Sam glanced around the group to see their reactions. The other two guys both looked bored. The black guy was slouched back with his arms crossed over the number on his jersey. He was looking at Haley, but he wasn’t watching her. He twitched a little, and Sam thought he was playing basketball in his head.

The other guy, who was dressed in black and had eyeliner on, was also slouched back. The difference was in his eyes. He was focused on Haley, and his lips moved as he repeated what she had just said to himself.

The girl in the group sat up straight and had her hands folded in her lap. She was dressed like she was going to church and she seemed to be paying attention. She glanced around the others too, and she paused when she made caught Sam looking at her. She didn’t smile or nod, she just noticed and waited a second before looking away.

“This facility is dedicated to the research and development of technologies that have yet to be defined by modern methods. You must understand that everything you are about to see and hear is classified. You will not be allowed to discuss any of this with anyone else. Are there any questions before we begin?”

The black guy sat up and leaned forward. “Yeah, what does D.O.M.R.A.D. stand for?”

The other three sat forward and Haley smiled. “The Department Of Magical Research and Development.”

Sam felt his mouth fall open. He glanced around, and saw that all four of them looked the same.

“I realize that answer will have sparked a lot of other questions,” Haley said. “But I can’t answer them. You will end up having almost everything about D.O.M.R.A.D. answered during the tour. Do you have any questions that are not specifically about the organization?”

The three guys shook their heads no, but the girl raised her hand. “Your letter asked us to pack for two nights but we haven’t gone to a hotel yet. Where are we staying?”

Haley smiled. “You will be staying here on the campus. We have dorms and you will each be in a room.”

They all sat quiet and Haley nodded. “Good. Let’s get started.” She walked to the door and opened it, motioning for them to go through. “Welcome to Fort Benjamin Franklin.”

Cell

January 28, 2015 8 comments

Hello everyone,

So far, so good. I have managed to write something new every day but one this month. I have managed to hit my minimum word goal each week. I have a new story that is about to go to editing and another that is going to need to be edited before I can submit it. All in all, this is a positive writing year.

I have also entered my first contest. I submitted three poems to a contest on meditation, quiet and silence. As soon as I get results, one way or the other, I will let you know.

I am still submitting my novel to agents and seeking representation. Wish me luck.

L. E. White

Cell

I watched the gray bars of the old cell move into place, sealing me into this box with one tiny gap to let the light in. I see the animals in their cages, and they look at me like I am their next meal.

They have no idea.

The judge didn’t need much time to decide what to do, three dead in what he described as the most horrific scene in his career. I would be going to trial for murder.

All eyewitness testimony was thrown out. Nobody that wasn’t there believes we were any more than a bunch of stoned hippies. They believe that the rednecks came there to cause trouble, but they don’t believe that I was in the right to kill them.

Even though they can’t explain how I killed them.

The sound of the door locking is followed by the disappearance of other sounds. The hum of the electricity for the lights fades. The crisp clacking of the guard’s heels gets softer as they walk away. I hear the click of their door shut and the block is quiet.

For about five minutes.

Then other sounds start. There is the creaking of metal springs and the panting breath of exertion. There are grunts of pain and satisfaction, sighs of pleasure and release. The worst part is the sound of muffled words, voices pleading into pillows for this to end. I hear skin hitting skin, and I can hear gagging, like someone forcing themselves to throw up.

I begin to shake when I hear the bedsprings behind me.

“You and I are gonna come to an understanding.” The voice is deep and rough. I can tell it is from a point that is above my head, which means he is taller. “If you don’t want to be raped. If you don’t want to be beaten into submission. If you don’t want me to whore your little white ass out to anyone who wants a go at it, then you are going to do your best to make me a happy man. Do you understand me?”

I hear him shift his feet to widen his stance. “I asked you a question bitch.”

I turn around, making a slow circle on my heel. I start at his shoes, and let my eyes work their way up to his head. He outweighs me by at least fifty pounds. He is more than four inches taller.

That won’t matter.

“You will leave me alone, or I will tear you into pieces. You decide which.”

He looks into my eyes, and the muscles in his jaw clench. “Fine then boy. You are going to regret that.”

I frown and look at the beefy hand that he is curling into a fist. “Probably, but not as much as you will.”

I don’t know if I could have dodged the punch. Even if I could have, I don’t think it would have mattered. He would have thrown punches until one hit me. I know nothing else would happen until I get hit. So I don’t even try.

He is strong, and I feel my cheek bone crack when he hits me. I fly backward, smashing into the bars and splitting my scalp. The floor rushes up to meet me, and I see him step closer.

Then it starts. The red hot flash of pain in my face triggers a string of explosions down my spine. My body tenses, the muscles seizing so hard that I hear other bones crack. I break into pieces. I should be in agony from the broken bones, but the stabbing pain in my chest as my heart stops is worse.

He is leaning down to grab me and drag me up, when I make eye contact with him. He sees the differences. First in my eyes, then the skin that is breaking and splitting as bone and muscle below it moves around. He stumbles backward, all of the confidence replaced by fear. He knows he won’t touch me again. Before I lose consciousness, I see that he realizes he won’t touch anything or anyone else, ever again.

We both scream. His is a primal reaction to what he sees, mine is a primal reaction to the pain.

Then I black out.

I wake up strapped to a hospital bed. I am in the infirmary, and I don’t remember a thing.

Beside me is another bed. A sheet with large red blotches covers a couple of lumps that don’t look like they used to be a man.

I feel the tear slide out of my eye. It burns as it makes its way down to the pillow below my head. That is all I have left; nothing else. Just the burning of tears making tracks on my skin as I wait for my world to come to an end.

I will be alone for the rest of my days. Missing her, hating them, and wishing I could remember what happened.

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com

January 23, 2015 Leave a comment

There are times I do this when I am writing.

 

Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strip on GoComics.com.

Categories: Links, web comic, Writing