[Day 13 of 365]:
The words are still coming in pieces. And they are coming slower. But at least they keep coming. As I write, the storyline seems to change. I look back on my old outline and I know I have to redo it. I know that many of the scenes don’t make sense anymore. They are wasted baggage that I’ve got to toss. But it’s hard to let go of my first thoughts. They were shiny and new and I’m afraid that I won’t get something better.
But this challenge is all about working with my fears and anxiety. Writing isn’t easy and writing every day is hard on the both my schedule and time spent with my loved ones. But every day that I post, I can feel how essential it is for my spirit. Tomorrow is another chance for it to fly.
Writing Prompt: Let one of your characters prove that chivalry isn’t dead.
Marcus was accelerating. The headlights barreling down the wet road illuminated his path but not his mind. He had not realized how power hungry Marie really was until now. Until he saw her throw the unconscious Renee/Sera into that car.
He had just turned the corner. It had taken a minute to recognize Marie in the rain, but Renee’s form was unmistakable, unconscious or not. He gunned the engine, aimed his car at the Benz, and hit the gas. A second before the collision, he turned the wheel to the right and side swiped them. Black paint embedded in his powder white Audi. The black Benz slide off the road and into the concrete wall at 45 miles an hour.
He pumped the breaks to slow his own dangerous curve and skidded to a stop just short of the sidewalk. Swinging around, the Benz right front end was steaming.
Marcus ran toward the Benz. The driver was slumped onto the steering wheel. Her face pillowed by the white airbag. A mixture of blood and white powder caked the back of her seat. The rotting earth smell of the dead succubus was unmistakable.
He popped open the back door and saw Marie curled around her seat belt, cradling her left arm. Sera was laying, still unconscious, across Marie’s feet. She had slid down off the seat and been protected from the second impact by the back of the driver seat.
As Marcus pulled Sera from the car, Marie started to open her eyes and swing her head from side to side. She saw Marcus and tried to undo her seatbelt. screaming as she moved her broken arm. “You son of a bitch!”
Marcus swept Sera into his arms and ran toward his car. He felt the prickling of Marie’s attack just as he dropped Sera into the passenger seat. The powerful blast of elemental metal threw him across her lap. He turned and saw a storm of small rocks and shards of glass streaking through the downpour at him.
Marcus used the alchemist’s power to gathered the pelting rain in to into a shield around the Audi. He slammed the passenger door and crawled over into the driver seat. Throwing the key into the ignition and trying not to gun the engine. He thanked ever German he knew for over-engineering this damn car and sped away. The water barrier dropped and he heard rocks slam through the back window. He pushed Sera’s head down, ducked and turned the first corner he came to.
***
“Sera! God Sera, please wake up” Marcus passed the revive capsule under her nose again. He had bandaged a small cut above her eye, but hadn’t taken her to the hospital. Her skin was pale from shock but her heartbeat felt strong under his fingertips. Finally she blinked.
“Mmm.” Sera licked her lips but couldn’t seem to form any words yet. She raised her hands to her head. “My… head. Where….?”
Marcus sighed and put a healing tincture of fresh dragon’s herb and green tea in her hands. “Drink. This should help a lot.”
Sera grimmaced but swallowed. She took a deep breath but kept blinking her eyes. “It tastes like rust. God, I feel like a mac truck hit me. What happened?” She finished the glass of brownish liquid and took a deep breath.
Marcus took a deep breath “I hit you with the Audi.”
“You did what?” Sera’s voice cracked with the sudden use. She placed her palm on her forehead and spoke much quieter “What did you do?”
“I rammed Marie’s BMW with the Audi. You were in it.”
Sera’s eyes snapped open with recollection. She tried to sit up but quickly reconsidered. “Fuck. What’s the matter with you people?”
Marcus refilled her cup with steaming genmaicha tea and poured a cup for himself. Sera realized she was laying on his couch. “That,” said Marcus, “is going to take a minute. I’d better make up some crumpets.”
“Fuck the crumpets. Start talking or I’m getting out of here, walking or crawling.” Marcus sat on the coffee table and took a sip of his tea.
“You’ve got the sight, so you already have an idea of what we are, what you are. I think Marie was after you to get to me. She wants to join our powers and take the Seat of Metal from her Cousin. “
“She didn’t say anything about the Seat of Metal. Whatever the hell that is. She told me you’re trying to get revenge against an ‘alchemist’ who had killed your fiance. I’m not really inclined to believe either of you right now,“ Sera closed her eyes. Her skin started to flush with color from the nearby fire and she took another swallow of green tea. Whatever was in it was helping.
“Great. What else did she tell you before drugging and kidnapping you?” Marcus stood up and stepped away from the fire.
“She said the alchemist started a fire. She said you couldn’t save your fiance. She said you needed my help.” Marcus looked back at Sera.
“Marie was right.” He pulled out an old photo album “I do need your help. But first, I need your trust. Because I think you already know the story I’m about to tell you.” Sera shivered in spite of the crackling flames and slowly sat up on the couch. Marcus sat down next to her, picked up a worn photo album and opened easily to the middle.
Sera saw herself, smiling in black and white. Her arms were wrapped around a slightly younger Marcus showing a sparkling engagment ring on her right finger. “You’re name was Renee.” Marcus said. “I gave you the glass rose as an engagement gift.”
Sera touched the rose at her neck and inhaled as if she’d been drowning. Her eyes fluttered from left to right as the memorries flooded back to her. The memories weren’t hers, but it felt like she’d put on a new coat. They smothered her history, her childhood, and overlayed her life up until her mother’s death. Then nothing.
The air came rushing out of her lungs and as she lifted her hand to Marcus’s chin. Her fingers trailed along his jaw and over his lips. “Renee is dead, Marcus.” Tears spilled from his eyes and dropped onto the back of her hand. “But she never stopped loving you. The alchemist couldn’t take that from her, so he killed her.”
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Do you believe in chivalry? Does it have a useful place in modern story telling? |
Comments, links to your writing prompt results, and lurkers are always welcome.
