Part 1: My first written stuff from last night. Rough and unedited.

 

                                         

Maruk

It was raining heavily again. It always rained in this city. The water seeped into everything. No matter where you were you could smell the rust. Narsis was filled with the stench corroded iron. You could never get rid of it.

I wrapped my long-coat tightly around me as I stepped into the torrent. She would be exiting the finance office now.

She was walking along the street alone. A scarf of red silk wrapped around her face to protect her from the rain. She was tall and muscular, standing well over six feet tall. That scarf was worth more than I earned in a year. I broke in a smile; I didn’t do this for the money.

Without thinking I slipped into her walking pattern, mirroring her steps. With the roaring sound of the rain it was unnecessary. There was no way she was going to hear me. People told me I was a natural.

The wrist-blades slid into my hands. I pressed my thumbs along the blades, enjoying the bite against my skin. My pace increased as the scarf grew larger. Her boots giving a faint clang against the iron street. Mistresses lined their boots with metal for kicking subordinates. I was no longer a subordinate. My heartbeat was still steady, my gaze focused on the red scarf around her neck. She was blooded at B-purity. My highest profile mark yet. I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a slight shiver of excitement that crawled up my arms like a lizard.

Her walking pace had increased. Suddenly feeling a lurch of panic, I realized that she would soon be around the corner, out of the rain and too near her car for me to do anything quietly.

I broke into a run. Trusting in the roaring sound of the rain I sped along towards her, keeping my body low and compact. My wrist-blades sung out to their full length. Reaching her in a few jagged instants, I sprang in the air and swung my arms in a circle, blades arcing around to envelop her scarfed neck, aiming to open up her throat in one motion.

Man, I can be really stupid sometimes.

I felt a metal boot pound into my ribcage with the force of a jackhammer. I tumbled onto the ground in a crumpled heap. My face banging and sliding against the iron surface of the street. I was briefly aware of that terrible taste of rust mixed with blood in my mouth. I tried to move and felt sharp pain, probably something very broken.

Lydia Savar laughed a full throaty laugh amidst the gale of wind and rain. It carried like a song along the street, mocking my previous efforts to silence it. My vision was blurry with pain. All I could feel was water falling on my face. I heard the metallic clang of her slow, measured footsteps coming nearer. My hands gripped my wrist-blades so hard blood started to run down my wrists and along my arms.

Everything slowed down. My pain was still there; my body a broken heap, but it no longer controlled me. My mind felt again the clarity I had when I was stalking her, when I was in control. My pain was just another obstacle. My breathing, once gasping and uneven became smooth and steady. My vision cleared. I saw Lydia walking into view, looming above me, impossibly tall. Her scarf was loose, blowing red trails in the wind. I looked at her; her cold blue eyes looked at mine. I realized for the first time just how beautiful she really was. A cruel beauty. We held each other’s gaze for a moment, the rain falling unheard around me.

Her boot rose as if in slow motion, its destination; my head. All my energy was coiled. I had no fear, no pain left in me. As the boot descended towards my skull I jerked my head out of the way with an inch to spare. The boot screamed against the ground, ringing in my ears. I swung to my feet, trusting my broken body to support me for a few moments. As she whipped around, her fist swung at my chest with years of trained accuracy. I stood and waited, there was no way I could dodge her blow, it was far too fast.

I never planned to dodge it. Grinning manically I gripped onto her shoulders as tightly as I could.

As her fist smashed into my chest. I heard some of my ribs crack. Using the momentum of her strike my body swung up into the air, my wrist-blades smoothly jutting into her neck from either side with incredible force. I heard her gargle as she clutched her neck. She gave me one last desperate look of surprise. Her beautiful blue eyes were alive for one final moment.

Then we both collapsed, our bodies like abandoned dolls. As my consciousness rapidly retreated I was aware of the rain beating relentlessly on my body, the stench of corroded iron and blood in my nostrils. Really, it all smelled the same.

It always rained in this city.

Character sketch: Maruk

Maruk. The main character of the novel. Maruk is a man who comes from the repressed lower class most men come from in the world. He has 'liberated' himself in some fashion by becoming an assassin for a figure only known as the Driver. He hunts down and kills targets supplied by the Driver. By doing so he believes he will help bring down the oppressive system the Royal control.


The Driver saw something in Maruk that made him special, something that makes him uniquely talented for his work. Maruk is damaged in his own way, and struggles to feel real emotions, or any sort of emotion, deeply. This makes him a natural at killing people, since he can do so without remorse.


Maruk likes to fight with concealed spring-loaded wristblades. He is also highly socially adept, but everything he does is not genuine. He is a chameleon, adapting to survive but not very assertive of his own core personality.  


However, for all his dispassion, Maruk is an idealist. He dreams of a better world, where people are treated equally, a place where life makes more sense.

I started writing last night

I've decided to dedicate my spare time to writing. My current aim is to get my first book published. I just started last night, but I'm going to be writing every day, and updating what I write on this blog.

My name is Richard West. I'm twenty four and I've always loved books, fantasy, writing, myth and science fiction. I work in a bookstore, which is kind of cool. I am currently studying Drama and English, without much of a purpose to my life besides getting a job and focusing on interesting stuff in my spare time. That used to be computer games, but I feel that's become a creative hole I throw all my energy into. I think by throwing all my energy into writing I'll get something out of it, something tangible. This writing is in the end, for myself, I'm not trying to make money. But if a few people like the material (especially the edited, polished final copy) that would be great.

Its a world well established in my mind. Narsis. I had a very detailed dream/nightmare about it and it sort of grew in my mind after that, like cancer. The details of the world and how it works are very clear in my mind. What I need to do now is create a story that can actually interest people and also explain enough of my world that it intrigues, but not that it confuses them completely or feels over-explained/overwrought.I have a bad habit I think, of over-describing things and overwriting. I  also need to be less 'on the nose'.

Some woman in Narsis might look a bit like this.

I will share with you what I write on a daily basis. No matter how bad or good it is I will pound my way through the story and just force myself to write, not that I don't love writing, but sometimes you hit walls.

I'm not trying to be famous or anything, but I do want to improve as a writer. So feel free to say whatever you want about it, you can be as nasty or nice as you want. I'll talk about my daily difficulties in writing, and what I am learning and discovering as I go along.  

If you have any requests of any kind of what you want me to add to the blog you are welcome. I'm a pretty open-minded guy, and am willing to try out any strange and wonderful idea you might have. I also have a camera, but no naked pictures! 

This photo captures the feeling of the city Narsis.