Sunday, April 28, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 14: History

Last week the General dragged Casey back to the present. This week she's sitting in his office, getting her bearing, as he's talking to two soldiers, about heaven knows what, but she suspects that it's got something to do with her. The soldiers bolt as soon as they can, practically racing each other to the elevator.


I'm not the lying type, so I won't start doing it now; it can be creepy sixty feet below ground. The halls may be well lit but knowing that one foundational crack or well dropped bomb could send the earth crashing down on us was far from comforting. Also a contribution to creep factor were the rumors that flew around about what we actually did down here. 

Some said that we studied aliens. Others said that we were engineering a super virus. Neither were really that far from the truth, but I wasn't about to be the one to spill those beans. I wasn't stupid, and my contract prohibited it. Breaching that wasn't on my to-do list; I'd seen what had happened to the last asshat who had made that mistake.


Click here to be taken to the Weekend Writing Warrior site where you will find the works of many fabulous writers.

Thanks for stopping by this weekend. Your feedback is always appreciated :)



Sunday, April 21, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained: Episode 13 - Back In Body #WeWriWa

It's that time of week again!

Lets be honest. I'm still pretty much out. I haven't REALLY been using the arm - as per doctor's orders - but it's getting a little silly. The other night at work (yup, still working with one arm in a sling) I filled out a packet of paperwork with my left hand. It looked like a seven year old had written all my information on the form. A seven year who can stay between the lines and spell everything correctly. I was pretty impressed with myself. Boo-yah!!

I found this awesmazing (my twelve year old niece deserves credit for introducing me to this word) app in the Apple Store that converts my speech to text, and, because I NEED to be writing somehow, I caved and decided to try it out. My poor left hand needs a break sometimes.

I "wrote" the following eight sentences (and the entire chapter I pulled this excerpt from) by talking to an app on an iPad. It turned out okay as long as I stopped immediately and corrected words like "dissertation" into the much more appropriate "disembodied". The app clearly needs me to talk to it more. At some point I may post an uncorrected version of something just so we can all have a chuckle. Maybe on Monday. Everyone needs a laugh on a Monday. It's Monday. 'Nuf said.


I tried to shake my head, which didn't work well since I was so disembodied.

"Michael," she jerked his head up by ramming her crop under his jaw.

"Yes?" His voice was husky, tone matching hers.

I sat quietly in the background and watched the scene unfold before me, as morbid as a train wreck. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the beautiful woman whom he called Mare and her absolute hatred for this man I loved; whose empty, naked body was currently lying on a gurney in my labs, waiting for me.

She was whipping his groin with her crop, furious that he wasn't responding to the pain that she was trying so hard to cause.

I felt the memory tear, as though a yard of fabric was being torn off the ream, and I was back in the hallway with the General crouched on the floor beside me.


Thanks for stopping by this week and leaving your feedback!

Check out the awesmazing wewriwa talent by following this link.



Sunday, April 14, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 12: Strangle Hold

Hello Sunday!

I've been slow on getting around to everyone and responding to comments. I will catch up this week.

Awesomely, I'm still not allowed to use the hand that writes the words, and my exams are next week, so I'm feeling pretty unproductive. I have, however, been using a dictation program, so all is not lost. I'm just more the type who needs to be writing while I write. Talking while I write doesn't really cut it for me. And, I'll be honest, I feel like a circus side show when I start talking to myself and I know there are people within a one floor radius who may be able to hear me. But I am getting there. (For those wondering - still not sure what happened so now I'm waiting on the orthopedic surgeon to get back too me about the eyeball sized mass(es) that we found in my elbow joint during the ultrasound. Woot woot!)

Enough about that drama, though, this is about the story!


Mare turned to the three men and pointed too the door. "Your presence is no longer required."

"We'll just be outside, yell if you need us."

She had already focused her attention back to Michael. "That won't be necessary, will it baby?"

He smiled in his crooked way, which enraged her. She dropped the whip and wrapped her hands around his throat.

"I'll kill you, Lieutenant, but not before you tell me where your maker is."


Read the works of the wonderful wewriwa participants by clicking here.

Thanks for stopping by!


Sunday, April 7, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 11: Unmasked #WeWriWa

It's that time of week again (And thank Gods, it's April!)

After the injury from hell I still haven't written anything new - writing with my left hand has been reserved for school stuff, because equations are hard to type - so this week carries on (again) from where last week left off.


Michael has been delivered to the doctor - Casey - on his military base, exsanguinated. While trying to determine how to reverse the effects of being drained, Casey ends up seeing how Michael got to be in his current condition, by taking a trip through his memory files.

Did I mention that these guys are mutant soldiers?


There was something about her that made his spine tingle, and it wasn't until she whipped him below the belt with her riding crop that I figured out what was causing his 'discomfort'.

His body was still programmed to destroy her, and his reaction proved it.

I felt the pain blossom in his head as the whip connected with his most vulnerable area.

His rage never faltered and seemed to create a bubble around the nerves, because that should have hurt like a bitch -- but it didn't even phase Michael.

"Mare," he muttered, his eyes locked on her. "It's been a while."

She laughed and slapped his cheek with her whip. "It has been, hasn't it?"


Check out the other wewriwa posts for this week by following this link.

Thanks for stopping by!