I'm writing a story that is going to be a wee bit different. It is going to take place in an alternate world, yet the world is going to be this earth... Writing it as if Earth is a fantasy world and God has a different name in this as well. I think it may be a very controversial thing but, hey! I don't normally write to be socially acceptable so here is what the story shall be about:
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| In a world very much like ours, and yet very much different, there is a war between dark and light. Fighting back to back with quite the peculiar bunch, a group of guardians, healers, and prophets, chosen by The Sacred Alchemist Himself to be the guiding lights to the Truth. These strangers were known as the Bright Ones. Fighting against the Dark Forces and renegade guardian cults and freeing their slaves from bondage. So, our story begins with one young warrior-in-training, Caedmon Moor. When Caedmon meets Serenity-Abigael Sparrow, a girl who is not as she seems, something about her draws him closer to her in his curiosity and empathy. A past that she daren't tell a soul seems to be hidden in her dark colours and long coats. While everyone sees her as the strong and brave one, Serenity is secretly seeking for something worth believing in and pleading and praying hard for Aurdeum to help her to truly have courage. |
I've also been making awesome art and writing things and posting them on my wattpad, lately! Take a look at those? So, yeah... I do not have much to write about but I do want to say I'll be writing Steam Alice again... Here's what I wrote July 2013:
Dedicated to my Mad Hatter Misplaced-Twin Brother, Eli, for his 20th birthday, with the promise of a part two very soon.
I scribbled in a notebook with a swift hand, as my script danced across the page in a semi cursive/printed way. The pencil began picking up speed and my hand began trembling violently, when a firm yet gentle toughened hand was placed upon it.
“You’re trembling, Alice,” whispered a man’s voice in a lilting brogue.
I looked up, nobody was there then I looked back down at my hand, nothing... He keeps visiting for only seconds.
I’ve been taking myself to therapy, psych wards, and doctors. They drug me with antipsychotics... I sighed, deeply. They’re still not working! The Mad Hatter, with his sheathed cutlass at his side, ginger wiry curls and beard, a pistol shoved in his belt and a deep green top hat adorning his head. His steampunk-styled green-tinted goggles topped on his hat and green khaki trench coat, flapping past a corner always brought the idea of some mad Scotsman/pirate hybrid.
I went back to scribbling in my notebook. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck rose at the sounds of hustling footsteps down the darkened hallway. I turned my head to look out of my doorway into pitch black hall. Then, standing up, I glanced back at my alarm clock, 3:37 AM. Hissing profanities at the outlandish hour, I breathed, “Bloody hell, who would be up at this time?”
I went to investigate, my bare feet padding into the darkness. Attempting to switch the light on, to no avail. The darkness still pressed in. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a silhouette speed past me. Fully alert now, I clenched my fists, tightly. Soundlessly, I peered around the corner, to hear an ominous growl, but all I could see were shadows. Whispers beckoned me closer. A shadow without an occupant? I crept closer when the hall light sparked and flashed. It revealed a beast turning its head towards me, abruptly and growling deeply. Raven black coarse fur and a wolf-like muzzle, dripping with blood. Rearing its ugly head, it charged at me, knocking me backwards onto the floor I threw my arms over my head to make a feeble attempt at blocking its attack. Looming over me, claws outstretched, and fangs bared then it roared in pain to the ceiling.
As it roared, there was an ear-splitting BANG and a high-pitched scream. The beast turned and ran into the darkness, vanishing from existence. A tall man held his smoking pistol and blew into it. His ginger whiskers were stained in blood, wiry curls in a flyaway tangle. It was strange to see him without his hat.
“Have you, by any chance seen me hat?” his voice rasped in his fine brogue.
I blinked and shook my head, in shock, gaping at him, “Hatter?”
“Aye, without my hat....” Hatter grinned wryly, he turned to look to his left, noticing his blood-stained hat, buried into the wall, he started with an excited cry and yanked it out, dusting it off, and topping it on his head.
I stared at Hatter for the longest time, with my mouth ajar. He grinned, madly at me, as I stared, traumatized by his presence
After a long silence, he frowned at me and asked “What have they done to you, lil’ Alice?”
I continued to gape.
He stuffed his pistol in his belt and strode towards me. Extending a battered and blood-stained hand to me, he offered to help me up. I stared at it, quizzically then, hesitantly grasped it, and he lifted me up to my feet.
“You are needed in Underland, Alice.” his voice, steady and firm, whispered to me, as he took a stronger grip on my hand. And before I could resist, something yanked me by my navel and the hallway disappeared, casting me into what seemed to be a never-ending rabbit hole, filled with floating armchairs, rockers, grandfather clocks, dinner tables, and even a pocket watch. The both of us plummeted down into darkness, until I was unconscious.
So yeah... be crossing your fingers folks! And may you be blessed beyond belief! Peace be unto you all....
May fair winds follow you and the Author guide you!
--Arianna Persephone Scriptsmith
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