Storyslinger's Written Works

[Storyslinger]

the storm

The Coming of Age

Dreams

A Tale for the Heart




Taleslinging

Shortly, meaning after i get my scanner and computer hooked up right, I will beging posting stories. I feel it's time to live up to my name. Feed back is encouraged.

[Mike Beck]

i look forward to reading them.

sling away.

[Storyslinger]

Thankee-sai

[Matt]

Can't wait to read the stuff

[Storyslinger]

Thankee-sai

[Letti]

*sits down and waits patiently*

[Storyslinger]

My computer is still acting up, it my be a longer wait than i expexted

[Letti]

My computer is still acting up, it my be a longer wait than i expexted

[Storyslinger]

Sorry

[Letti]

We are patient. We can wait.
Even if it's hard.

[Storyslinger]

I thank you, i wouldn't want to forget the face of my father

[Letti]

I thank you, i wouldn't want to forget the face of my father

Thank God that's not so easy.

[Storyslinger]

One of the later stories I plan to post involes something along those lines

[Storyslinger]

Come my friends
Take a seat around the fire and I'll show a world you can only imagine in you dreams

[Storyslinger]

The Storm
The night was hot, and tempers were high. A strong, summer storm system had just rattled the countryside. Lightning flashed and thunder crack, and winds gusted without relent. The tavern was now filled with men that had been driven out of the field’s hours before. They now sat around tables drinking beer and playing cards. There was an ill mood on the air.
There had already been three fights this night. In this small part of the country, three was a high number. All these fight had been provoked, and finished, by one man. His mane was Kent. Kent was a man of humongous stature and the largest man in town by far. In his eyes, he ran this town. Those who chose to disobey his self-appointed rule would face his wrath.
Kent stood up from the table he had been playing. Luck had been on his side all night. Though he always had the lowest hand, everyone folded for fear of his anger. He slowly moved about the tables and made his way to the bar. Leaning with his back against the counter, he surveyed ‘his bar’. The bartender, Mike, drew him a beer and slid it down the length of the bar. Kent caught it neatly in his giant hand and raised the mug to his mouth. The mug was emptied at a single go. He slammed the mug back onto the bar and moved back to his table. The night went on.
Near 1:00, a man cloaked in a hooded robe entered through the bat-winged doors. Even with the room well lit, no light would penetrate the shadow over his face. The room, which had been loud and wild with men, men full to the top with beer, fell silent. All eyes were drawn to the hooded figure.
The man, if that’s what he was, walked down the bar and took a stool near the end. The bartender made his way to the end of the room and asked what he’d be drinking. The man motioned for Mike to draw in close.
“Give me your best whisky, three if it pleases ya,” and after a pause, “or if it don’t.”
His voice seemed distant and it echoed through Mike’s mind. He nodded nervously and made his way to the back room, where he grabbed the bottle of Star. Before returning, he grabbed three fine crystal glasses and set them on a tray.
He entered back in the bar and set the Star and the crystal on the bar. Shaking, he poured the drinks and laid them before the hooded man. Then, he hurried off to clean some glasses, glasses which appeared spot free.
Picking up one of the glasses, he warmed it between his hands before knocking it back, neat as could be. He did the same for the remaining two glasses. He then sat in silence.
As all this occurred, not a word was spoken. The bar had gone entirely silent. Silence wasn’t what this bar needed. All it did was add to the filling of foreboding.
Kent was outraged. It angered him, to the point of explosion, to see someone strike such fear into these people; someone who wasn’t him. He flung his chair out from underneath him and stormed up to the bar. Lightning flashed, and the storm raged on.
“Who do you think you are stranger?! This is my town and I demand you answer me! NOW!” Kent’s voice had already been raised, but his last word had thundered.
The stranger continued to sit in silence and acted as if he’d never heard him. That was all it took. No one ever ignored Kent. He grabbed the man with his huge hands and spun him around tell they were face to face. His hands moved from the man’s shoulders to the hood and threw it back. As all of this happened, Kent blocked the man from the view of all those there. Had this not been, the night may have ended very differently.
What Kent saw in that face I cannot tell you and wouldn’t even if I could. I can tell you that the tavern filled with wind and noise. Over all the commotion, a foul voice emerged.
“Ha, ha! It’s your time Kent! Prepare for the ultimate doom!”
Kent fell to the floor in a lifeless hump. Beside him, the hooded figure also collapsed. The robes were piled atop each other like they had never contained anything to begin with. Everyone rushed to Kent, but as they drew close, they saw he was beyond their help. Kent, who had had a dark complexion all his life, had gone pale. His body was still, but most striking of all were his eyes. They seemed far off, maybe showing the hell his soul was forever bond to.
The bar cleared shortly after that. No one ever spoke of what had happened that night. No one wanted to relive the night Kent had faced off with the dark man, and lost.

[Steve]

I liked it. It was decently written, and I loved the last line. I fuckin' loved it.

Bring on more!

[Letti]

The way you write is really nice.
It's... so rich.

I hope to read some more from you in the near future.

[Matt]

Very good stuff man, enjoyable to read.

[Storyslinger]

:bows head and smiles:
Thank You

[Letti]

We thank you!

[Letti]

You would make us happy with another piece of your works.

[Jean]

hear, hear

[Letti]

Storyslinger! See?
Jean has posted... and that's something!

[Storyslinger]

I plan to have the next story up hopefully by tonight

[Letti]