Creative Writing: The Spirit World

Lavelle said. “Maeve is pretty tough, after all she’s managed to survive with Kev and I as older brothers.” Lavelle’s older brother Ruaire said with a

One always asks, why does one kill? For love, for money, for power…and sometimes because the devil was hissing in your ear, kissing your neck, willing you on. He’d spoke of wrong doings, and trespasses, ones that could not be forgiven. So Cain had taken destiny into his hands, millenia ago he was going to find himself wrapped up in the embrace of hell, of Satan, and the Pit.

“After defeating the Cyclops Polyphemus, my men grew exhausted. They grew thirsty from rowing under the beating hot sun. Sweat dripped down their heads and the ship’s deck grew moist from the mix of the salty, seawater and sweat. We stopped by on a nearby island.

You used to think the philosophy 'you only live one' is the most ridiculous excuse for justifying everything you've ever heard of - if you're meant to be reckless and live as fast as you can, 'there's a million and one ways to die' sounds much nicer. Explore them. Investigate them. Enjoy them. Cherish everyone of them, especially that split second between when you lean back in your chair and it hangs midway in air so close the the ground that the only thing you can think of is 'that is it.'

“That is why I left court. I did not become a Devine too only aid the rich and powerful. I became one, to help the people,” the dark hair man proclaims.

Richard awakened with a sudden halt. His nose was immediately harassed by a number of unknown smells. Had they arrived? Was this it?

I am going to stress that to you over and over again until it becomes the same as breathing.

“How does that translate onto the battlefield?” asked Joan. “I’m sorry if that’s too forward, but I’m curious.”

“Why are you telling us this, what do you want from us?” Asked Jace rather hastily.

Siir’ack raised a single digit into the air. Air flowed from his finger, covering his own ear canals and forming an invisible bubble elsewhere; to the passive observer, nothing at all was happening.

"Beca c'mon, there's no need to be embarrassed. I'm hot. Girls can't resist me, and that I'm your roomate's boyfriend, that puts a bit of a edge if you want me. But I am not going to cheat on Maddy with you Becs."

“Hey, what are you two doing here?” a robust voice from the driver side called out.

“YOUAREGOINGTOHAVETOBEQUIET,” I cut him short, reiterating the last part of my sentence in a desperate attempt to get it across before he could interrupt again. I scowl, and as I try to stand up to meet the boy, something tugs me back down. He’s stepping on my sweatshirt. “Can you please move your foot?” Silence. No response. “Can you please,” I growl through gritted teeth, “move your foot.”

“You’re kidding me right?” I answered a little nervous. They just laughed. “Right!?” I added.

The platform dominated the small briefing room, with short rows of ageing white tables and grey plastic chairs surrounding it. As he looked ahead, Tom smiled at the oversized Erratech logo emblazoned on the wall. The gleaming surface glared in contrast to the fading decor.