Eve

Now I'm 40, still in LA, have a ten year old, and come Halloween you can see Leatherface, prequel to the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, written by moi.

Tank - that's sooooooooooo awesome!!

Destiny - I had no idea we used to share a state. I bet Seattle is awesome, though! I hope you plan to teach your kids ALL OF THE ROCKET SCIENCE.

....since I found Nightly.Net. I've only recent returned, by my Gods, most of the original members are still here and active. I find myself incredibly nostalgic being back.

What I'd love to do is ask all you awesome people a question that might take you down memory lane;

What was it like back when you first found Nightly.net?

How does that compare to where you are now? I see avatars with kids and babies in them. Frak me, 15 years!

Anyhow... 15 years ago I was 13 and just discovered the awesomeness of Star Wars. I found Star Wars Chicks (GIRLS like Star Wars too?!) which eventually led me here. I fancied myself a Padawan learner and was mentored by Gin Skywalker!

I wrote silly and serious stories with the usual suspects and loved every second of it.

Fast forward to now... 28 years old, College Graduate, Sr. Business Analyst with a medium sized telecommunications company, but still writing my novels and finally self-publishing after getting 6 or so viable books written. I bought a house in 2012, had a girlfriend, discovered girlfriend was crazy, was single again... I travel often for work. I discovered DragonCon in 2011 and have had the BEST drunken nerdy times every year since.

I discovered I make a bad ass Starbuck lookalike.... (http://i.imgur.com/t1rt3.jpg), gotten addicted to Reddit, Supernatural and Night Vale.

I never stopped being a nerd, even if there were lulls.

But that's enough about ME. I want to know about everyone ELSE! Tell me about THEN and NOW.

Must be surreal to see your work on Amazon. And welcome back, stranger!

It is, in fact, surreal! And thanks. I'm glad to be back.

 

Thanks Mara! Long time no see (totes my fault) - so glad you're still here! How've you been??

I have been good! Still writing. This one book is taking forever but hopefully it'll be finished this year!

 

Oh awesome! What's this book about?

Thanks Cashmere! Not only is there a Kindle version, there's a Kindle version in like 15 different countries.

Thanks Mara! Long time no see (totes my fault) - so glad you're still here! How've you been??

Not your thing?

I can pace myself provided the episodes don't end on cliffhangers. Cliffhangers are why I finished Battlestar Galactica in 2 weeks on Netflix.......

They're going to release all the episodes at once again. Does anyone else's productivity tank during these times?

Any OitNB fans here??

I feel like this more of a Public Service Announcement than anything else - Poets of the Fall are AMAZING. They're a Finnish band with some of the most beautiful English lyrics I've ever heard. Here are a few of my favorites from them:

War:

Given and Denied:

Change:

I'm really interested to hear what others think after giving those (and any others) a listen!

Dearest Book Club,

It has been a really, really long time. I know because I had to email the admins to get my user information rescued from a long since used email account.

I wanted to stop by and check the place out - I am THRILLED to see this place is still kicking. In addition to my curiosity regarding the liviness of Nightly.net, I wanted to share with you an accomplishment that was many years in the making.

Many of you here might remember my manic NaNoWriMo sprints. Well, this year, I finally got one of those novels published -

http://amzn.com/1508461368 | http://www.somenerdgirl.com | https://www.facebook.com/somenerdgirl

It's called Children of the Fallen, and it's a contemporary fantasy novel about fallen angels and their unwitting offspring.

I wanted to share this with all of you for a few reasons;

1. You're all obviously avid readers and thought you might enjoy reading something from an author who grew up here.
2. I grew up here! Figuratively and literally. I was able to express my creativity freely and I know for a fact it helped me grow into the writer I am today.

I'm really excited about this development and I wanted to share with some of my oldest internet friends!

Thanks Copper! The time shifts were a big part of the disorientation I wanted the reader to feel. Also is a kind of throwback to non linear time.

Sorry I haven't been very responsive, guys. Damn summer classes are eating my soul. o_O

Thanks, creamtuff!

And don't feel bad about missing the vampire bit at first. I'm sure those who caught it highly suspected due to the fact almost everything I write involves at least one vampire...

I'm glad you liked the disjointed nature of this piece. I really wanted to capture the incomprehensiveness of... well, possible after life.

The guy is/was a vampire. The girl wasn't. My first response to the question was more like, "Er, I'm not sure if the girl is." Because sometimes, when I write, I honestly don't know. But I'd say if she was, there'd be a lot more biting/blood lust going on. This is pure revenge with the aid of magic.

Yea, it can definitely be overused (LOST comes to mind...), SD. But sometimes, it works fairly well as a good exposition technique.

I'm glad you enjoyed it.

I am curious about one thing. Not saying it was the wrong choice, because I don't think it was, I'm just curious why you did it. Why is the first segment out of chronological order? To set the mood properly?

Yep, it sure was. I needed that feeling of desperation/confusion/eternal damnation going on. Then I introduced the context. I figured that way you could both hate and feel bad for the 'victim.'

Yep. All those things and more.

Mostly, it was just fun to write. And of course it's more like a 'snippit' than an actual story.

This story is comprised of nothing but villains, in one way or another. It's a bit abstract, but I hope everyone can still enjoy it, and with limited nightmares, too!

*~*~*

I’m in hell. I wasn’t sure, not at first but now I know.

What I don’t know is why I’m here.

I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is. But it is most assuredly a physical place. It has a door, walls, a floor, a roof but no windows. No light. I’m naked, I’m in pain – I’m in hell.

I hear the door creak open and cringe immediately. My skin is dry from countless days without nourishment. I shield my eyes from the light behind the door, the feeling of it on my skin enough to intensify my pain. Without meaning to, I start to cry. I’ve given up questioning my captor. She never answers, except with her cruel laughter and the phrase, “You know.”

I know nothing of my previous life. My memory extends to this room – appearing here in a blaze of horror, never leaving, never knowing what’s beyond, except the light. The painful, terrifying light.

Her wrath begins almost immediately. She leaves the door open, knowing the light hurts me. She beats me until she’s too tired to continue. Sometimes methodically, sometimes, like now, without reason or ritual. Her breathing would be labored by the time she’d leave, her body exhausted from beating mine. Imprints of her painful heeled shoes would appear all over my body, barely visible to me until my eyes readjusted to the forgiving darkness. I was grateful this time, as I fought to regain breath even as my broken ribs burned and struggled to repair themselves for the countless time. These beatings are tolerable compared to the methodical, drawn out sessions.

Sometimes she brings in chains. I don’t understand why – I’ve never tried to resist, or escape. I’m too frightened of her, and the light, to try. I’ve begged for death before, but not anymore. She’s promised it to me, but I fear I can no longer speak. I’m starting to lose my understanding for words, for meaning in anything. I’m in hell.

***

“I never believed in divine retribution, until now.” Those were her last words to me. I was stupid enough to laugh in her face, brazen then, even with her gun pressed to the temple of my head. I didn’t believe her – I didn’t believe she could kill me. Even those people you’ve hurt the most are afraid to hurt you in the end – the possibility of revenge, of punishment is too fresh in their minds.

That is, if you trained them correctly.

And I had – this one was my pet project. I’d chosen her when I could have chosen any other, and the ungrateful bitch was holding a gun to my head. And so, I laughed. “Give me the gun and I may reconsider the severity of your punishment, pet.” I told her, my body shifting to take it from her, not intending to wait for her answer.

I didn’t even hear the shot fire. My energy, my lifesource, my soul – whatever you wish to call it, left my body at once and without hesitation. It was black for just a moment – a comforting darkness compared to the blazing light that engulfed me next. Not just white light, that’s a myth. All light – not something you could ever hope to comprehend in a physical body.

Despite the shock, it was an amazingly liberating feeling. Disorienting, terrifying, but pleasant. Gradually you’ll start to feel your thoughts unload, drifting slowly away from you. You start to forget almost right away. I imagine it’s possible, after a long enough time to forget forever.

I wouldn’t know.

Just as suddenly as the light had appeared, it began to fade, an uncomfortable but familiar feeling overcoming my consciousness. I was returning to where I’d come from, if I wanted to or not.

The faster the light faded, the more I remembered, the more emotions returned to me – I was being revived. Elation is what I felt first. The bitch would have to answer for her disobedience after all. I felt something of a grin, my body tingling at the sensation of being returned to physicality.

Cold water is what I’d felt first. Ice cold on my naked body. Something was wrong.

My eyes shot open and I gasped for air, my heart beating rapidly against my chest. My very human and mortal chest. I looked down, my skin a healthy tan it was not before. I began to shake; this was not my body. This was not my life.

“Welcome back.” Her voice washed over me like a second bucket of cold water. My eyes tried to focus, blurry at first. The room was dark, with a sliver of light pushing through the door on the opposite wall. “As it turns out,” She told me and when she paused, her knee caught me in the jaw, knocking my head back, cracking against the wall I was propped up against. “Killing you once just wasn’t satisfying enough.”

Blood pooled in my mouth before I felt the sting in my tongue. I’d nearly severed it with the blow to my chin and spat blood onto my chest, unable to lean forward to expel it on the floor. I moaned and slumped forward, against chains.

“What… have you,” I slurred around blood and pain, “Done?”

“A thousand deaths wouldn’t begin to account for what you deserve.” She continued, ignoring my question, or possibly she didn’t understand my obscured words.

She left after I sat in a small pool of, for once, my blood and not hers.

The next time I saw her, my body had begun the slow process of healing. My mind was clearer and I’d begun to harbor ideas of escape. I knew her, and I knew how to control her.

I tried giving her orders first.

She laughed and spit in my face.

I’d lost control.

My eyes could finally focus now. I squinted into the darkness, making out her form as she paced the room. I could make out the scars I’d given her, and smiled.

“Does it hurt?” I asked her, eyes half closed as I leaned my head back, the smallest of smiles tugging on my lips.

“Don’t talk.” She told me. The knife she held in her hand caught the light from the door and winked gleefully at me.

“Your scars – they still hurt, don’t they? When it’s cold, especially.” I ran a tongue over the dried blood on my upper lip. “Or does it hurt more that you’ve become me?”

She didn’t answer verbally. Instead, she paced angrily over to me, my features still smug with a small victory of digging under her skin. She took a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, promptly slitting my throat.

The next time I came back, she put me in a female body.

It was almost enough to feel guilt for what I had done to her.

Almost.

I pulled my legs close to my body, too frail to fight, and she knew it. No need to bind me she decided, as I was paralyzed by the humiliating pain. I couldn’t look at her, “How many others are you going to kill?” I asked her bitterly and through helpless tears. The female body is an unstoppable force, and I could barely keep myself from heaving.

“Their souls are in a better place.” She insisted. “Unlike yours,” she reminded. “I own yours.” She spoke the words like she was licking the last of her most beloved chocolate cake from her fingertips, reveling in the sweet taste.

Soon, she grew tired of my crying and left me alone. By time she’d returned, I’d starved to death, my soul in the awful limbo she’d created specifically for me.

My memory of her, of myself faded each time she returned me to this earthly plane. With panic in my voice, I confessed this to her. She called me a liar, a clever trick but one that would not work on her.

I can’t remember her name now. My body is male, small. Barely past puberty. I struggle to remember myself each night, and struggle to forget every time the door is open and the light washes over me.

I’m in hell.

“Why?” I plead, begging at her feet for explanation, too reserved to beg for reprieve.

“You know.” She says, and when I persist, she screams it at me, over and over again. I begin to think she is punishing me for not knowing.

“I’m sorry!” I blurt through tears and my body continues to shake even as she stops her assault. To my surprise, she leaves without a word. I think I catch a glimpse of her stunned features, but later convince myself I was imagining it. She returns later with the first drink she’s ever offered me.

It’s poisoned.

Each time I hope is the last time. My memory is gone, but for this place. I know I am here for a reason; what reason only she knows. She may tell me some day. I pray for it. I’ve accepted the cycle, I only look for understanding now.

I would tell her, but I can’t speak.

Not this time.

Next time I may not remember.

I try to find a way to tell her. I clutch her ankles, silently pleading.

She presents me with paper and a writing utensil. I hold it with shaky hands and stare down at the crisp sheet. I begin to cry.

I no longer know how to write, or read.

The pencil drops and I hold my face, a shell of a human.

And now, now she is gone and I have the darkness. Almost, I realize when I feel well enough to sit up. A sliver of light from beyond the door is visible through the gap at the bottom. I’ve come to associate the light with her – appearing only when she does. But now she is gone, and somehow it remains.

Carefully, tentatively, I inch towards the door, my body unable to stand, so I crawl. I put my nose the gap, breathing in fresh air for the first time in my entire life. Carefully, I hold my fingers to the light. They’re bloody, and misshapen, but they’re mine. For the first time, I begin to wonder what is beyond the door.

I reach up, my gnarled fingers clutching the knob. I only know how to open it from watching her, but even now I fumble with the handle, making it slick with my blood. After long, tense moments, I hear a click and a creak and fight the panic associated with the noise.

Once I’ve calmed down, I push the door open, my body shaking with fear and excitement. The light is intense, but I’m expecting it and shield my eyes until they can adjust. At first it seems as if beyond the door is nothing but a field of white nothingness, seamless and never ending. I watch through the slits of my fingers, feeling my heart pump wildly. It hurts everywhere, and suddenly I understand that I’m dying. I panic and tumble frantically into the white void, dropping away from the dark room, falling uncontrollably.

Awareness returns to me so intensely it is like being shot all over again. My body feels like it’s on fire, and I know, were my heart beating, it would probably burst again from the internal bleeding.

“My name? Lucey, but all my friends call me Luce.” The girl spoke and held out a hand, her smile paralyzing beautiful and charismatic.

I stare at her, eyes drifting to her neck, noticing immediately the absence of a deep scar. One I’d given to her myself.

I feel her agitation before she lets it filter into her eyes. I try hard not to gape, trying to understand. I feel sick, my body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. I know at once where we are, where I am. The smell of coffee is thick in the air, the lingering scent of smoke of my last cigarette is still clinging to my jacket.

I look at her one last time. Her hand has dropped, she looks offended.

I turn and leave, despite her protests.

The next day, I end my life.

Free at last.

Yeah, kill my muse while you're at it. I need her for Nano and dammit, I'm finally on schedule just past 30K.

 

Oh, I'm supposed to be lurking... dammit...

Oh, so YOU'RE the one they talked about in regards to NaNo!

My muse wishes for me to tell you that he says hi to your muse.

And also -- GOOD LUCK!

I think our next contest should take place in Wal-Mart. Yep.

Dude... what happened to your SN? o_O

And one thing for the people who knew Charlie was gonna get offed; how did you know?

Nightly contest theme of the week: DEATH, LOTS OF DEATH.

I actually really liked this. The style was unique and it is WAY harder to write dialect than perfect English.

If there ever is a second part I would love to read it.

Certainly. It's something I'm already interested in doing and if people want to read it -- awesome!

I've actually never realized the parallel there, so well done for first seeing it and then illustrating it so well. I really liked it.

I was wondering if this would be like a first-time thing for anyone. I'm really glad to hear that it is, because I think it's an important parallel that is often missed or ignored.

The original plan was for him to tell the story of his inspiration, then tell how it partially led him to question his own creator. But I felt like a) the stories would end up being far too similar and thusly repetitive and b) I assumed everyone was waytoo familiar with the Adam and Eve story for me to make it interesting. Those additions would have doubled the length and I honestly didn't want to bore anyone.

The inferences Luce makes I feel are strong and leave the reader somewhat conflicted depending on where their beliefs are now.

Alas, mayhap one day there will be a second half to this story.

Correction....relationship. It's just the one that makes me insane.

Was it the first one? The first one will always f*ck you up. For a long time. Like for life.

I kind of liked it better that way. o_O

I did too! I'm changing it BACK!

*snickers* You go, girl!