01 Feb 2007
While not an Ogre story, I was interested in writing a tidbit of a story. I plan to use this as the opening chapter of a story I'm planning. Main plot details of the story are being fleshed out, but here's the intro.
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Robert barreled down the cell block hall, stumbling forward on his left leg. Turning, his right foot skid, his ankle bucking freely. He desperately thrust his hands forward and finds purchase on a segment of rusted metal a moist, grimy pipe protruding from the wall. He draws in ragged breaths as he hold himself up. Grimly, he glances down to his right leg, then cries out and looks away. The wound was worse than he imagined. The lower leg of his orange prison jumpsuit was sheared away, exposing shreds of ragged flesh. His calf was almost entirely gone skin and muscle easily cleaved to bone, along with half his ankle butchered away. He groaned as he felt blood flowing from his body already it had gathered in a pool beneath his feet. His breaths grew shorter as his-
Snuff.
Robert whipped around, his pulse skyrocketing. Frantically his eyes swept through the darkness. He knew what he had heard. IT was coming again. Robert was merely wounded IT had come to-
Snuff. Snuff.
Robert cried out as a pair of misty eyes pierced the gloom, the space below them clouded by a beasts breath.
He threw himself from the pipe, hobbling at the greatest speed he could. Get away. Hide. Before it attacks again. Flailing through the dank passageway, his adrenaline surged as he heard a deep thump. IT was coming. Hysterical, Robert bolted from the noise, his arms waving wildly. The sound came again crying now, knowing what hunted him, he hobbled forward. The musty smell of sweat and despair clouded the air of the prison as blood spattered from his nose.
Please not me Oh, God, not not me Sobbing, frantically weaving through the passage, N-no not now please GOD! Accidentally throwing his right foot forward, his limb buckled beneath his weight. Robert thundered to the floor, slamming face-first onto the slab of grimy concrete. He lay there, sobbing, thick crimson blood streaming from his nose onto the clammy ground beneath him. He attempted to move his mauled foot, and pierced the still air with a pitiless scream. It was impossible to lift himself.
Thump. No n-no please nuh not me Thump. God Lord, save me s-save
Robert could feel his consciousness slipping away. He registered a final thump, followed by a great heaving noise that of a mammoth beast launching itself into the air to pounce. The thundering rumble of a beast the coppery scent of blood - the flash of massive claws and Robert knew no more.
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Comments? Criticism? Let fly.
Vincenti
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Robert barreled down the cell block hall, stumbling forward on his left leg. Turning, his right foot skid, his ankle bucking freely. He desperately thrust his hands forward and finds purchase on a segment of rusted metal a moist, grimy pipe protruding from the wall. He draws in ragged breaths as he hold himself up. Grimly, he glances down to his right leg, then cries out and looks away. The wound was worse than he imagined. The lower leg of his orange prison jumpsuit was sheared away, exposing shreds of ragged flesh. His calf was almost entirely gone skin and muscle easily cleaved to bone, along with half his ankle butchered away. He groaned as he felt blood flowing from his body already it had gathered in a pool beneath his feet. His breaths grew shorter as his-
Snuff.
Robert whipped around, his pulse skyrocketing. Frantically his eyes swept through the darkness. He knew what he had heard. IT was coming again. Robert was merely wounded IT had come to-
Snuff. Snuff.
Robert cried out as a pair of misty eyes pierced the gloom, the space below them clouded by a beasts breath.
He threw himself from the pipe, hobbling at the greatest speed he could. Get away. Hide. Before it attacks again. Flailing through the dank passageway, his adrenaline surged as he heard a deep thump. IT was coming. Hysterical, Robert bolted from the noise, his arms waving wildly. The sound came again crying now, knowing what hunted him, he hobbled forward. The musty smell of sweat and despair clouded the air of the prison as blood spattered from his nose.
Please not me Oh, God, not not me Sobbing, frantically weaving through the passage, N-no not now please GOD! Accidentally throwing his right foot forward, his limb buckled beneath his weight. Robert thundered to the floor, slamming face-first onto the slab of grimy concrete. He lay there, sobbing, thick crimson blood streaming from his nose onto the clammy ground beneath him. He attempted to move his mauled foot, and pierced the still air with a pitiless scream. It was impossible to lift himself.
Thump. No n-no please nuh not me Thump. God Lord, save me s-save
Robert could feel his consciousness slipping away. He registered a final thump, followed by a great heaving noise that of a mammoth beast launching itself into the air to pounce. The thundering rumble of a beast the coppery scent of blood - the flash of massive claws and Robert knew no more.
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Comments? Criticism? Let fly.
Vincenti
Quote from: machina on Dec 28, 2006, 02:27:16 PM
Ogres have a few good points. In summary, I like them because they make me sexy.