In honor of the upcoming Halloween, I’m going to share something truly terrifying, something I’ve only ever shared with one other person; my first story. It is one of the most repulsive, horrific, embarrassing, cringe-worthy, awful, incoherent pieces of trash you may ever have the misfortune to read. If you wish to keep from scarring yourself, turn back now. But if you hate it so much, why are you sharing it? Because. It’s important.
It shows how much I’ve developed as a writer since August 1st, 2016. And I hope that some, preferably all, of you will read it and go, My writing’s so much better than that! and be encouraged from knowing that THAT’S where I started.
Now, a bit of an explanation. I used the app Werdsmith to write this little gremlin. I do NOT recommend the app. Primarily because it doesn’t let you italicize on the free version! Which is why all the inner thoughts are done…..in all caps. Why I thought that was a good idea, I’ll never know.
Disclaimer; I honestly have NO idea why I chose this as the premise for my first novel. It was such a bad idea.
So here’s my greatest shame and milestone marker; complete with all the marks I made and zero editing at all.
Short Revenge Story
Summary: A young man, formerly known as Daniel West, is cast out from his town for simply being who he is. Broken in heart and body he takes the easiest path, hatred, and begins an epic journey to find the Revengers. But on his way to find this group of murderers he makes some unexpected friends.
The sack was jerked roughly off head. A man’s leering face met his eyes.
“So, this is scum that’s caused all this racket. What’s your name boy.”
“D-David West.” His throat burned as he coughed out the words.
“Sir,” said the man who was holding him. “This is the son of Daniel West, the warrior who killed the great Warjak.” The guard spoke of him with a hint of awe on his voice.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll just have to let him go then.” His voice dripped with scorn. ” You idiot!” He yelled “I don’t care if his father was a god! He will be punished! He is guilty of one of the most heinous crimes!” The man stopped to catch his breath. Then in a calmer tone he ordered “Call everyone to the town square, we will give them an example of what happens when you break my laws.” The guard holding him acknowledged the man and dragged David out of the room.
He wasn’t quite sure how he had escaped, or if he was any better off staggering around the woods than he had been in the town. The one thing he was sure of however, was that he was never going back there again. THEY HATE ME, he thought, THEY’RE DEAD SET AGAINST ME AND ALL OF MY KIND. WHAT DID I EVEN DO? WHY DID I EVEN TRY TO LIVE WITH THEM, TO LIVE A NORMAL LIFE? These thoughts chased each other round his head as he continued walking.
He normally dreaded the full moon, but as he looked at the moon now, he couldn’t wait until the next one came. NEXT FULL MOON I WILL START ANEW. I WILL NO LONGER RESTRAIN MYSELF. NEXT FULL MOON EVERYTHING WILL CHANGE, THE TOWNSPEOPLE WILL WISH THEY HAD NEVER EVEN SET EYES ON ME. And in that moment of pure hatred something inside of him died. He would have wished the heavens to rain fire and brimstone upon the town and it’s inhabitants, for it to be razed to the ground or destroyed in an earthquake; had it not been for one person. DON’T THINK ABOUT HER! SHE’S NEVER EVEN SPOKEN TO YOU! WHY SHOULD YOU CARE FOR HER? He berated himself like this hours.
As he continued he painful way part of an old poem ran through his head,
Ripped from his family, his heart torn in half
The young man set out to slaughter
But none of this would ere’ have happened
Where it not for the baker’s daughter.
The poem was an old one, about a young man who was betrayed by a baker’s daughter. The daughter had told his enemies some crucial information that had led to his family’s death. At the end he sets out to kill his enemies and all their acquaintances.
HOW IRONIC, HIS PREDICAMENT IS SO MUCH LIKE MINE. As he continued a new thought struck him. If he was cutting himself off from the town, then he was not going to keep a name that had been used and spat upon there.
Ripped from his family, his heart torn in half
RIPPED…….TORN IN HALF………. RIP TORN. YES, THATS PERFECT. He stopped and let out a hair-raising howl then yelled,
“I am no longer David West. I am now Rip Torn, a name that will one day strike fear into the hearts of all men!”
Revenge was harder than it seemed. I NEED TO THINK THIS THROUGH, I CAN’T BE RASH. ONE WRONG MOVE AND I’M DEAD. IF ONLY I HAD SOMEONE TO HELP ME, SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T CARE WHO THEY’RE KILLING. Yes killing, he had decided that this was the only option. But this was something he had long considered; his earliest memories were of being bullied by the older children at the orphanage. No one stood up for him. No one protected him. No one befriended him. OLD TIMOTHY DOESN’T COUNT. THE ONLY REASON HE EVEN LOOKED AT ME WAS BECAUSE MY FATHER SAVED HIS LIFE he thought bitterly. Old Timothy was the retired coachman who smuggled the former David (Now Rip) out of the town every full moon. Rip hadn’t started shifting until he was thirteen, it was then that his murky past was revealed to him. He remembered the conversation with Old Timothy very clearly.
It was a cold, crisp autumn night. The moon lit up the streets and was reflected off the windows, and water troughs.
“Now boy,” Timothy had said. “You’re probably wondering why I took you on a walk tonight. Well, I’m not going to mince my words; you’re a werewolf, so we’re your parents. The only reason I’m here is to take you into the woods so that you don’t go moon mad and start killing everyone in sight. And I’m only doing this because your father saved my life once. I might as well tell you the way your parents died too. You mother died giving birth to you, and your father made himself some powerful enemies. His enemies hired a group of Revengers to do him in. Obviously, they succeeded. He died when you were three.” It was then that they arrived at the city gates. “Now crawl under that gap in the gate, and follow the stream North. Eventually, you will see a large hill sided with rocks, at the base of the rocks there’s a deep crack, crawl inside that and wait until morning to come out.” When the Old Timothy paused Rip had started to ask one of his many questions. “No!” Timothy had growled. “No questions! Now go before I turn you in to the authorities.” He did as was told. Rip spent many miserable nights in that cave. For the first three years he remembered nothing once he entered the cave, he seemed to black out every time he shifted. When he woke his hands and arms would be scraped and cut, there would be claw marks and tufts of fur surrounding the cave entrance. It took him awhile to figure out why. WHEN I SHIFT, I’M TOO BIG TO GET OUT OF THE CAVE. BUT WHEN I SHIFT, I TRY TO GET OUT. The thought had scared him at first. It was when he was taking his monthly walk out to the cave that he had an idea that would change everything.
Yeah, so, there it is. I can hardly bare to think about it. Hopefully my sharing this accomplished its intended purpose and didn’t make you want to avoid me like the plague.