The exercise:
Let us do some more continuations. Just pick up the story where the last person left off and do what you will with it for a little while.
We had Kat's parents down for dinner tonight, and then afterward we had a Skype chat with Kat's brother and his family. Our niece was definitely the star of that little show.
Mine:
The crowd gathered in the town square to hear the speech, huddling in clusters of friends and family for warmth. The only sounds to be heard were created by shifting feet on the hard packed snow. The result was similar to the discontented groans the people didn't dare allow escape from their throats.
The soldiers patrolling the perimeter of the square were watching far too closely for such foolishness to emerge.
Minutes crawled by like an advancing glacier, but still the royal balcony remained empty. Their overlord enjoyed making his subjects wait.
As the sun sank wearily toward the horizon, murmurs began to spread through the townsfolk. Then the soldiers started exchanging nervous glances and gripping their weapons a little tighter. The same question tumbled through every frost-bitten mind.
4 comments:
Sounds like a very pleasant evening then!
Hmm, this is an intriguing scene you've given us to continue; the vocal snow, the military presence – it's all a little scary, isn't it?
Continuation
It was a little boy who cried first; tired, cold and hungry after a long day standing in the cold, waiting for King Morris, he started to grizzle. His mother was on him immediately, hugging him to her and pressing his face into her coat, trying to silence his cries. Even as she held him, praying she'd been fast enough, she heard the crump of leather boot on snow and knew that she hadn't been. A gloved hand seized her shoulder, pulling her roughly round to face the guard. His face was stricken but his eyes were cold; if he didn't do his job then he would suffer the same fate as the little boy. King Morris was implacable.
The boy was pulled from her arms, and she sank to her knees, unable to feel the cold of the snow for the chill in her heart, knowing that to cry out was to join her son.
The guard carried the boy at arm's length even though his shoulders burned with pain in doing so, aware that if he didn't he'd not be able to make himself do this. The boy was placed at the edge of the square, clearly visible to everyone, and the guard drew his gun, praying himself that his hand wouldn't shake. The boy stared at him, mute now, uncomprehending.
Continuation is marvelous fun. Marc awesome start, so many possibilities. Greg such a creepy twist. I tried to do something unexpected. This was the first thing that came to my mind and so in the spirit of sharing and diversity enjoy
Contiuation:
It seemed every person in the crowd held their breath for mere heartbeats, then his voice broke the silent beat, “You have been naughty my children.”
Terror filled the faces of the crowd members. The gun and the boy were shaking now. King Morris crouched over the balcony.
“Look what your sins have done to me. The gods of decreed in the time before time, that for the blessings of good and evil, the king would reflect the hearts of his people. Either a monster to scourge evil or a man blessed to heal them. What lies in your hearts that could begin the transformation? Repent now, or force the guard to kill the child.”
The king was a twisted, hideous mixture of a man and a dragon. His tattered clothing had been shredded by his expanding body, wings, and a tail. Scattered black scales glittered all over him like a rash, while red horns and red spikes erupted from his head and down his back to his tail. His eyes were now the color of blood and slitted like a snakes.
“CONFESS! Confess now, or the child dies.”
Fire made his mouth glow as he spoke and smoke trailed out of his nostrils. It was the boy’s mother who spoke first.
"Our only sin was to believe in you!" she screamed, charging the balcony. The crowd followed her, snatching weapons from the stunned soldiers. They swarmed the balcony, climbing over each other to reach their overlord. They turned the bayonets on the mutating dragon, stabbing and stabbing until it was a raw pile lying on the balcony floor. All was quiet. The little boy, forgotten at the edge of the plaza, began to cry again. His mother crawled away from the dead dragon and went to him, wiping blood from her face with the snow. Scooping up her son, she held him aloft and cried, "This is the one to lead us now! We shall be led by the innocent!" And the crowd and the soldiers knelt in obeisance.
Greg - fantastic follow up; you really ramped up the tension nicely.
Aaron - loved the description of the king, and you stopped at the perfect spot.
Morganna - I think we actually managed to finish a continuation for once! That's awesome :D
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