Writing My story: The Lone Wanderer.

[EMU]

This is a work in progress story. I would appreciate any comments, be they negative, positive, constructive criticsm or anything of the sort. I have written this is the last couple of days. I hope you enjoy it. :D



?The Lone Wanderer?

(I would just like to note that this story has absolutely no relevance to real places and/or people. All places, characters, events and so forth are completely fictional and in no way are meant to represent anything in the real world. This is a complete work of fiction.
This story will contain themes and scenes of an adult nature, including drug use, sex, insanity and graphic violence. This is not for people that may have their sensitivities hurt by such things. I am not saying that this story is exceptionally profound or profane, that it simply a warning for people that may be offended by such things. If you are under the age of eighteen (18), I suggest strongly that you don?t read this story. I can?t stop you, but that is basically a ?cover my ***?, so that if you go insane and kill people because of this, you can?t sue me.)


Nobody knew where the wanderer came from. He was certainly not from any of the surrounding towns. Some speculated that he had come in on a bus; others claim that he had hitchhiked in with some truckie. One thing though is for sure, he was different from the rest of the town?s population, and that made him alien in their eyes.

But that is getting ahead of myself. If I?m going to tell my story effectively, you must know whom I am. My name is? Well, my name is not important. All that needs to be known is that I am going to fill you in on the most extraordinary event that has ever occurred in my life. This tale is not the kind where aliens visit our earth, neither is it one of superhuman powers or acts of daring and bravery. This is the tale of emotion so profound it will disturb you to your core. It delves into the human psyche and whether you make it back out again is up to you?

It was a humid day in the far northern reaches of the small town of Red Kernel. The town?s exact geographical position does not exist anymore. It is not listed on any maps or GPS devices currently in use. It was a small, backwards town, with a population of around two and a half thousand citizens. The area surrounding the town was divided by conflicting geographical terrain. In the south of the town, there was an extinct volcano that had long ago died. The rich volcanic soil produced from it though, had both cultivated a rich and lush rain forest, and created a desert in the region north of the town. It is accepted that the volcano had erupted in the late Cretaceous period with such force that it had blown itself up, sealing a large portion of the then higher water level from the sea inland. Over time, the water had sifted down through the soil, and left a permanent layer of salt on top of the dirt in the northern area. This had been the catalyst for the creation of the ?Devil?s Pan? desert, as the locals preferred to refer to it. The town itself was situated at the foot of a hill, one in a series that formed the ring of the now extinct volcano. The name had been given to the area when it was found that rubies were abundant amongst the red soil of the igneous hills. Hence, ?Red Kernel?, was deemed by the fossickers, of the time, as an appropriate name.

But for now, let us concern our thoughts with the first known citing of the lone wanderer. He was first spotted walking along the main strip of the town, often jokingly referred to as the CBD by locals, by some of the town?s shopkeepers.

Business was unusually slow for that time of year. Usually the families heading south on holidays from the big city, some three and a half hours drive north of Red Kernel, would stop for lunch, and sometimes the night. But this year had been particularly slow, due to the new bypass that had finished its construction in the winter of the same year. For this reason, the shopkeepers always kept a keen eye out for any potential customers.

The stranger just continued to pass them by, neither glancing one way or the other, with his large canvas bag hanging down over his back, its one strap tenaciously hanging onto the shoulder upon which it was firmly gripping.
He was at least six foot tall, with long faded blue jeans, almost stylishly ripped and frayed in places, however, closer inspection would have revealed other that these were not carefully placed fashion statements. Small traces of dirt, oil and what looked suspiciously like old dried out blood smears adorned the hips of them, undoubtedly where he wiped his hands to clean them.

He wore a dark black leather trench coat, despite the humidity of the season, and showed no trace of sweat from either physical exertion, or the temperature. His long black hair was held in place at the back of his head with a long thin strip of leather that had been tied carefully into knot. His dark eyebrows blended well with his light tan that covered his exposed body. His eyes were piercing green, ones that seemed to flash and shine violently when they got doused in light of the sun. An average sized nose protruded from the centre, and a pair of thin, tight, blood red lips adorned the lower half of his face. His cheekbones were high and his chin jutted out slightly causing his face to look slightly long, and a tight angry scar pulled at his face over one eye. This gave the final impression that he was one tough mother****er.

I doubt you have ever seen a meaner looking hombre walk the way he did. He took long, purposeful steps in a regal manner that bespoke a certain air of sinister power within him. While he was only about six foot one at the most, his broad shoulders and energy filled walk gave him an air of supremacy over all others. ****, even the local pubs bouncer, ?Tiny?, made sure that he walked around him. Whether this was purely a farce was proven the first time that they met.

Tiny was ever one for a chance to fight. At six feet seven and one hundred and fifty kilo?s, there wasn?t a person in Red Kernel that would dare to **** around with him, and he knew it.


So when the stranger was passing down the centre of the main strip, which was already over crowded with fruit stalls, café tables, light posts and signs, Tiny decided to have a bit of fun. He had already started drinking, even though it was only two in the afternoon,
So when he saw the stranger walking his way, he shifted his massive bulk off of the public bench that he had been seated on, and made his way towards the stranger in a perfectly practiced motion that he had perfected many a year ago. He walked carefully towards him, whilst giving the false impression that he was trying to avoid a fruit stall. His movements where as graceful and well timed as a ballet dancer, and when the stranger came into range he acted.

He shifted his weight to his left hand side and in a swift motion, attempted to push the newcomer into a group of empty fruit boxes. However, the stranger simply dodged the main force of the blow and continued to make his way forward.
Tiny was angered that he had escaped his trap, and turned swiftly around to face the back of the stranger. His arm leapt out and grabbed tightly onto the wanderers shoulder in a vice like grip.
?Oi! Watch where the **** ya going! Ya ****in' ****** cunt!? Yelled out Tiny, his voice slightly slurred from the six-pack of beer he had previously consumed. Tiny flecks of spittle made their way out of his mouth and floated on the wind back up into his face, enraging him more. He was fully prepared to beat the crap out of this slick arse ******, and leave him for dead.

The stranger spun around suddenly, catching Tiny off guard. He grabbed at Tiny?s massive paw like hand and twisted it around in a quick circle, effectively flicking his antagonist?s arm out wide, leaving him open. His fist shot out quickly, like a striking serpent into Tiny?s neck, crushing his windpipe and forcing his jugulars to bulge out to the side to make room for the inclusion of his hand. It was retracted just as quickly, to be followed, by a swift upper cut into Tiny?s gut, just above his bowel, forcing the behemoth to buckle over in pain as he desperately clawed at his own face in his need to draw breathe. Spots began to form in swelling clusters before his eyes. He had never felt such pain before, and as he slipped into the depths of unconsciousness, he thought he heard laughter?


In the time that it took Tiny to figure out what he intended to do to the newcomer in his drunken stupidity, to the point where he had been knocked unconscious; a substantial gathering of onlookers, had gathered around as close to the scene of the deed as they deemed safe.

They all knew that when Tiny started drinking, there was a very good chance that he was going to get into a fight with some random person. Although they didn?t want to be the hapless victim, a lot of them still found some kind of blood lust like joy in viewing the primal act of strength, and when it had become apparent who his selected target for mutilation had been, they had gathered like a group of jackals, waiting to feed on the endorphin rush that they received when they watched Tiny?s ministrations.

They ranged from bums to business people, yet all of them were united in there complete awe that this strange person that had invaded their private world had reduced Tiny to a mere quivering mound of body mass that emitted sharp shrill gasps for breathe at irregular intervals.

A cold, hard stare. A brief, glancing look; of pity and hatred. That was all the gathered audience received before the interloper turned his back to them, and with a swift turn, and some billowing of his trench coat in the early afternoon breeze, he left them laughing openly to himself, or perhaps to another, in a deep and low voice that chilled the congregation to the bone. It was not all together menacing, more of a taunting sound that seemed to openly display of disdain for the people and Tiny, as if he knew, at a glance, that he could control, break and manipulate every one of them; individually, collectively and in both a physical and mental way. It was enough to make some of the weaker ones turn and run in fear, while others checked themselves before taking part in such a cowardly retreat, yet hastened as much as their dignity allowed. No body stayed behind, nobody called out for help, and Tiny remained on the street. Nobody knows whom it was that called for the ambulance to remove him from the gutter, perhaps the gossip spread to their station and they took action themselves, but it was dark before help arrived.

[Sara]

[size=1]It's an okay story, but i thin it would be more effective told a different way..maybe by some guy who lives in the town. The narration seems really pompous at times, and that takes away from it.[/size]

[EMU]

Well, later on in the story you will find out that it really is a person from the town who is narrating, and that is the very reason why it is so pompous. sorry i have not got to that stage yet, and i know that you couldn't possibly know that based on whats there. But that is what is going to happen. :)

[Guest SuperMaxSonic]

It's brilliant! Me want more! I love it. Do some more!
(Urge to go insane and kill rising...)

[Red]

[color=002E55]EMU, you can't force people or expect them as some obligatory thing to reply in your post. It's freedom of choice as to whether someone replies or not. Do not then go and break the rules by double posting, and complaining that people aren't replying.

People will tell you if they want to.[/color]

[conpiracymonki]

[b][size=1]
I really like your writing style. Partly because it's like mine, only using longer words, and drawing everything out in detail, lol.

And the storyline seems pretty good too.
The speaking sounds horribly UK-slang English to me too o.o'[/b]

Wouldn't a shot on the neck like that kill someone though?
*shrug*[/size]

[EMU]

Well, if it sounds slightly english, then i should be ashamed. lol.

It is meant to be australian slang. We really do talk like that. (sometimes :P)

I've got a question too, why are all of the profanities in asterisks? I realise that lil kids might be reading, but this is the first forum that i have come across that makes it mandatory.

Plus i did put a warning at the top, just incase someone is reading it when they shouldn't. meh, well, it doesn't really matter i guess. I will try and use less so that the story makes more sense. ;)

And no, punching someone that hard in the neck woul not kill them instantly. It may crush their windpipe and cause them to suffocate, but i doubt that it would be instantanious. Any doctors or nurses about the place here? they should know.

Sorry bout the duble post red. consider it gone. ;)

[Sara]

[size=1]OB has an automatic censoring system...certain words are starred out. There've been discussions about it in the past...somewhere in the suggestions forum[/size]

[EMU]

cool, thanks. New part sometime next week, maybe even on Sunday. Depends :)

[Guest SuperMaxSonic]

You respond to my story, I'll respond to yours.

[EMU]

heh, hey.... look at that... I forgot to add to my story. sorry. :(

There has been a lot happening in my life right now, a death in the family, lots of school work, getting over a really bad virus and stuff like that. I will *try* (and emphasise try), to get the next part of the story up in the next couple weeks. Certainly not this one, as this is when my exams are. :(

Sorry if this is dissappointing to anyone. Hopefully I can manage to keep doing it. :)