Squirrel's Shorts

10/5/09

Well, I'll set it up for right now, and lay out my plans. For this, my plan is to pit two (maybe more later) of my characters (combat characters, mind you) against each other in a battle in order to practice my writing skills in a way entertaining to me. The characters will be any two, such as Keev and Shadowmoon, or Keev and Leera. The winner will either be my favorite...or whoever is just plain better than the other. I may repeat battles with a different winner.

The battles are fake, they have nothing to do with any story.

Essentially that's it...but I think it'll be a fun way to exercise my writing skills (weak as they are...)

So yeah...write good. (Yes, I know it should be "write well", that was the joke.)

10/26/10

Wow, almost a whole year! Cool...well, I'll revisit it now. Changed the title of the item, changed the purpose. It's just a place to put up the few shorts I have for possible reviewing and reading.

Keev vs Shadowmoon

Keev cautiously walked forward in the dense, dark forest wary of any and every sound and movement. Each could be the last sound that he ever heard if he wasn't careful. Each tree branch he brushed past felt like an arm urging him to go back the way he came but he knew that that was impossible. He couldn't go back. He wouldn't.

He had heard from some of the scouts there was a hostile presence nearby, and a powerful one at that. It had taken the lives of thirty two good men, and burned twelve supply wagons. It needed to be dealt with immediately, and as the best warrior in Zepora Keev was the natural choice. Keev was only happy to eliminate such a threat from the face of Zepora.

His short brown hair and roughly bearded, adolescent face were unkempt and dirty. Though he was just a boy of seventeen, he was indeed the best swordsman and warrior in Zepora. Because of his great skill, the city-state's army had requested him to join. Keev jumped at the opportunity, not out of the desire for glory, but out of a desire to defend innocent lives.

Out of the darkness came a familiar noise to Keev: the crack of a twig on the ground. Normally, it signaled an instantaneous battle, but tonight it did not. Keev was sure it was his target, but it did not charge him. He didn't know what it was plotting, and that unnerved him. Once again, he wasn't in control, and he desperately wanted--no, needed to get back in.

Keev placed his hand on the hilt of his broadsword. As he unsheathed it the metal made a grating sound, like an animal growling in anticipation of a fight. When it left the sheath it rang, as a declaration to the forest that it had been released, and would soon impose its dominance. He held it high above his head, completing his stance, and he waited for the opportunity to let the sword down hard on his foe.

Three sharp objects whistled through the air at Keev who, with speed as lightning, sliced them to the ground. He quickly ascertained the direction they had flown from and charged full forced through the foliage.

That proved to be a mistake. As he burst through a large bush as tall as he was, he was instantly met with a large number of very sharp wooden sticks that had been stuck in the ground. It took all his power and balance not to run into them full force, but he could not escape a few cuts and scratches.

He heard a faint sound off to his right. Listening hard, he recognized them as light footfalls, punctuated with snapping twigs on the ground. He pursued them, cautious of another trap.

More projectiles flew, and Keev twirled his blade in front of him, knocked them harmlessly to the ground. As he gained ground on the footsteps he could partially see the black, tattered, and torn cloak of his target. The pursuer and pursuee seemed to be coming to a final, climactic end.

The cloaked figure emerged from the forest into a clearing speckled with tree stumps, closely followed by Keev. When Keev was two arm-length's away the figure whipped around and performed a spin kick that struck Keev in the hand, knocking his weapon into the air. It seemed to hang for a minute before finally slamming into one of the tree stumps.

Keev flipped backwards, landing in a hand-to-hand combat stance and examined his opponent.

The figure grabbed its hood and threw it onto his back. The man had no need for secrecy now. This was the final showdown between them.

"It's funny," the man said. "We are both major factors for either side of this war, and we've never met before. Then you barge into my territory without introducing yourself. Quite rude, don't you think?"

"Shadowmoon." Keev growled. "It was only a matter of time..."

Shadowmoon laughed. He flapped his draconian wings and cracked his neck, flexing his arms in preparation for the ensuing duel. His shoulder-length, black-as-night hair whipped over his face, which held an evil grin that flashed his fangs. Claws slowly grew from his fingernails. His pupils flattened into cat-like slits. He crouched low, in his own battle stance, placing one hand on the ground, and the other behind him.

"It seems," He began slowly. "that I have the advantage. You are without your weapon, out of your comfort zone. I, on the other hand...claw...well, you understand."

"If you say so!" Keev roared, and he dashed towards Shadowmoon. Unprepared, Shadowmoon lept into the air with the power of his wings to dodge Keev's powerful fist.

Keev took the opportunity to attempt to regain his sword. Shadowmoon, hovering in the air above, grabbed a single glass ball from his cloak and tossed it into Keevs path. When it broke on the ground, it exploded in a cloud of gas that caused Keev to gag and lose balance. Keev retreated and tried to regain his footing but Shadowmoon dove down and kicked him in the jaw, forcing him to the ground.

Shadowmoon pulled up, flew about ten feet away, then landed to catch his breath. While he wasn't out of shape at all, his smaller wings required him to expend more energy to keep his mass in the air.

Keev, stumbling to his feet, faced Shadowmoon, but inched towards his sword. If Shadowmoon acted, Keev would react, but his main goal was to retrieve his weapon. While he wasn't powerless without it, he was no match for shadowmoon with only his fists.

Shadowmoon saw this and, desperate to keep his advantage, took to the air again raining down knives. Keev caught one by the handle, rolled to the left and returned it. Shadowmoon barrel-rolled then proceeded tossing more knives to the ground.

The two were in a stalemate. Keev could not get at Shadowmoon in the air, and Shadowmoon could not hit the extremely agile Keev on the ground. And during each wave back and forth they were drawing nearer and nearer to the broadsword in the stump. Finally, they were close enough, and Keev made a mad rush for his weapon, followed by Shadowmoon.

They both grabbed the hilt of the blade, and began a tug-of-war. Circling around the stump, they both pulled at the sword. Within seconds Keev gained the advantage. His hand had grabbed the hilt properly; his thumb towards the blade. Shadowmoon had grabbed it backward, and this was just enough of an advantage for Keev to overtake Shadowmoon and throw him from the sword. Landing on his feet, Shadowmoon looked up to see a blood-curdling sight.

Keev pointed the sword at Shadowmoon with a storm to his back. The gray and black clouds swirled and twisted chaotically in the sky, and lightning illuminated the scene.

"Now," Keev stated, "You shall face justice!"

Shadowmoon pulled two daggers from his cloak just in time to block a devastating overhead swing from Keev. He rolled backwards and Keev stayed on him slicing, hacking, and slashing. Shadowmoon could barely deflect the attacks.

A simple tree stump proved to be a catalyst to the epic duel as Shadowmoon tripped on one and fell on his back. Keev swung down at his foe, who blocked once more, but Keev did not relent. He pressed forward to the ground, giving all his strength into the push. Shadowmoon pushed back. When Keev could push no more he put his boot to the blade adding more strength.

The tug-of-war for the blade had now been reversed, each pushing the blade towards each other. The world seemed to quiet, watching with baited breath as the two fought in the final battle.

When it seemed as though they might both be stuck there forever, Shadowmoon pulled his blades apart and quickly stabbed Keev in the chest. Keev's sword chopped into Shadowmoon, slicing into him and ending his life.

Keev tottered on his legs for a few moments longer. He saw his blood trickle down Shadowmoon's daggers. He looked in horror as they moved with him, stuck inside him as he walked away from his opponent's body. Injuries had been inflicted on him before but never this lethal. The blood just didn't stop. It just kept spluttering and running out.

He fell on his rear and he saw his life. His friends...his family...his country. He had served them all in his short life the best way he could. He had lived each day as if it were sacred. He had no regrets.

As he lied down on his back, he could hear the muffled sounds of armor. Behind him knights entered the clearing, accompanied by mages. The mages would attempt to heal him, but Keev didn't know what they could do. They gathered around him as the world faded to white.

Author's Notes

Well, I know what some of you might be saying. "Keev and Shadowmoon? Shouldn't that be like a climactic ending to your character arena? A 'final battle between good and evil' of sorts?" Well, I thought of that while writing it and my answer is: It seems like a good starting point to me. If I waited until the very end to do Keev and Shadowmoon I'd never get it done. Besides, I'll always be coming up with new characters.

I start to think, though. The battles aren't the main focus of any story unless they're a T.V show or movie. The main focus of a story is, well, the story. The battles are climactic focal points in which someone might live, die, a side may lose or win, or some dramatic change to the story takes place. Knowing this, I think that maybe these little excerpts might probably be boring to read without the proper introduction and attachment to the characters. You haven't had time to meet and bond to them. However, I'll only know that when you let me know. Please let me know.

Oh yeah, the winner. Well, there was no winner. I like Keev and Shadowmoon equally.

Although, since it was mostly open combat, Keev would've totally won. He's built for that. Shadowmoon was just being spiteful at the end there. Jerk. Ah well.

Talon's assassination

The night air was cool, and wet with fog. Talon's nostrils felt like they were drinking rather than breathing, but he enjoyed it. It felt cleansing, and it sharpened his focus. He relied on his ears, as the fog shrouded his vision, yet he heard everything: his cloak scraping on itself, his knives softly clinking in his pouch, and the sea assaulting the cliff in the distance.

On this cliff sat a luxurious mansion. A white gate surrounded the perimeter, even along the cliff, insinuating the property owner's justified paranoia. He knew someone was coming, but he did not expect Talon. Nobody ever did...

He could not see the mansion on this foggy night, but he had memorized the layout the layout. He had watched people pass in and out of the building for days on end. He'd even been inside, on one occasion, posing as a courier. That had been a particularly useful venture, for Talon now knew the general location of the master bedroom, where his mark lay sleeping.

Talon made his way to where the cliff edge and the fence met, and sidled alongside it towards the back of the property, above the sea. Twice he had to avoid guard patrols by lowering himself and hanging precariously off of the precipice, but his grip was strong and confident. Finally, when he reached the area he knew was directly behind the house, he waited for the patrol to file past him once more like clockwork, and climbed swiftly over the fence, taking care to clear the needle-sharp points on top of it.

He charged the mansion's wall before more guards appeared and began scaling the wall immediately after it materialized through the fog. With all the grace of a cat he glided up the building up the building, grabbing handholds and using footholds that were invisible to the untrained eye. When he finally reached a window, the ground beneath him disappeared in the fog, suspending him in a void. All that existed was him, and the wall.

The window was locked, but it proved to be a temporary impedance. He extended the hidden dagger affixed to his forearm and broke the lock. He quietly slipped inside and closed the window, entering the new, stagnant air of the mansion.

Talon realized he was inside a hall he had not seen before. He had to guess which direction his target was, and walked in the direction, but was stopped dead in his tracks by voices moving his way. Thinking quickly, he climbed behind a lush tapestry, the kind corrupt aristocrats could not bear to live without.

Two men walked past him, speaking slowly and calmly. Obviously, Talon had not been noticed. They felt safe, and secure. He still had his opportunity.

He left the tapestry as the voices disappeared past him, and made his way through the un-scouted part of the building. He had to backtrack many times, but eventually he happened upon a very large, very ornate door. Talon could tell from his target's obvious egotistical attitude, that this was the master bedchamber. He slipped inside as silently as the night breeze.

He was immediately aware that he had bumped into an armored guard. Before the man could make a sound, Talon sank a forearm blade into his stomach, through a chink in his armor. He used the other blade to slice the man's throat, preventing any and all sound from being emitted. The fresh corpse slumped to the floor.

Talon glided through through the master bedroom like a wraith. His blades extended the length of his arms. His hood erased his face from existence. His robe-like cloak shrouded his legs, seemingly replacing them, like he was hovering rather than walking. This creature did not appear to be human. No, it was something else...a demon of the darkness, of death...and it's hunger was not yet appeased. Its meal lay before him in blissful, ignorant slumber.

The target was a repugnant man. His bulbous, rotund form lay flat on the bed like a jellyfish on the beach, a lump of quivering flesh. His hoarse breathing whistled through his crooked, yellow teeth. Even more repugnant than his appearance was the way he had treated the people of his land, and the many lives he had "voted" out of existence. Innocent lives.

Talon knew that it was never up to one man to determine life or death. However, he had a rebellion behind him. It was their will, along with his, that he was enacting.

"Rest in peace," Talon whispered as he sank a blade into the beast's heart. "I bear you no ill-will. May your judgment be fair, unbiased, and just in the next life."

The last, horrible breath of the corrupt official was forever etched into talon's conscience.

________________

Hunger

Jesse looked over at Miranda and smiled. He enjoyed her company on his walks, when she decided to come with him. He liked being alone, but he enjoyed being with her even more.

The night air was cold, which is how he liked it. She was wearing a coat, but Jesse couldn't stand the heat. He settled for his jacket, simply because Miranda insisted.

On this particular night, though, he wished she hadn't come. He realized this too late, while they were halfway out, and he couldn't exactly leave her without being suspicious, so he decided to push through, and try to resist the hunger.

"So, you're doing well in college?"

Miranda's question tore Jesse out of his head.

"Yeah, it's going all right. Calculus still sucks, but that's to be expected." He laughed. "But it's necessary, if I want to get my degree in Computer Science."

Miranda shook her head.

"I still can't believe you would be going to computer sciences!" She laughed, too.

Jesse was never figured for the computer type. He spent one or two hours a day on the internet, like any other teen, but he was an athlete.

His toned muscles and lean body spoke for themselves, he was a man of action. Everyone had him pegged as a jock.

"Well, it's always been a latent passion of mine." he explained. "But I've never had enough opportunity to explore it. Besides, the money is good, and there's always a demand for an IT guy." Miranda nodded.

They walked a bit in silence, which was excruciating for Jesse. He caught himself, too many times, looking at Miranda hungrily.

Her smooth skin...her petite, yet curvaceous...

He bit his cheek hard.

Miranda could tell something was wrong when his breath suddenly became more erratic.

"Are...you okay?" She asked, worried.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm ok. We should, uh..." He paused, eyes clenched shut. "We should go home. Now. Your place, first."

"Oh, come on now, you don't have to walk me--"

"Your. Place. First."

Miranda was taken aback by his straight-forwardness, and his obstinance. He was off, but he was getting his way.

"All right. It's just around the block, then..."

Too long. He thought. I have to leave now. I'll say goodbye to her, and...

He didn't say goodbye. He didn't leave.

He wanted...to be with her. His mind told itself it was because he cared about her...and that was his excuse.

No, not until...no, I'll walk her to her house...then home. Immediately.

His excuse was that he was watching out for her, or trying to be with her for as long as he could.

He wasn't even fooling himself.

He started scheming...planning...savoring the thoughts...

CRACK!

"What was that?" Miranda asked, startled.

"I shink..." He cleared his throat. "I think a cat must have knocked something over. They do that, every now and again, hah."

His fangs burst through his jaw. His claws snapped into place, replacing his fingers. The hunger was too great.

NO! He screamed in his head. Leave, now! Before it's too late!

"Miranda, you can walk home from here, right? I just...I need to be alone right now."

"Something eating you?"

"Umm...yes, haha." He laughed at her unknowingly ironic statement. "I just need time, and space. Thank you for walking with me."

"Ok...well, can I get a good night hug?"

Oh God, please, help me! He prayed silently. Now, of all nights?

"Umm...you don't want to do that, I've got major BO. Can I get a rain check?"

"Dohhh, come on now. I smell you, you really went heavy on the Axe there, buddy." She laughed, as if nothing was wrong.

"Well...all right."

Hesitantly, he reached out his arms...and she pulled in close, and tight.

"I'm just so worried about you..." She began. "I know something's making you uncomfortable, and I just want you to know I'm here for you. If I can help, at all, just ask and I'll do it."

He didn't hear a word she said. He was doing his utmost to resist his hunger...his devastating hunger...

She continued, "You're my best friend, and I love you. Always know that."

She smelled so nice...her fruity perfume drove his nostrils wild...but below it was the smell of her blood. Her essence. The hair on the back of his neck raised...and grew. His hind feet--his feet started to morph, and his claws burst through his tennis shoes. He briefly hoped that she wouldn't notice...then started to hope that she would...and that she'd scream.

"You're wonderfully deli--wonderful." He corrected himself. He bit his tongue, which began to hurt more as his canines became more...canine.

"Not as wonderful as you are." She said, teary-eyed.

I can't...oh, God, please make her stop. He prayed again. Take this temptation from me!

"Thank you..." He said. "I'll...I'll be fine...just go to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning."

"All right...if you're sure. Good night, Jesse."

She tried to pull away, but he didn't let go.

"Umm...you, uhh...you're kinda holding me a bit tight."

His eyes were bloodshot, as they morphed. This signaled the inevitable morphing of the brain. He'd stayed out too long. He knew this would happen.

Her skin...smooth...soft...warm...alive. Her flesh called to him. It was meant for him. It was made for him. He wanted it...he wanted it now.

"Jesse!" She yelled. "You're hurting me!"

He snapped back, disoriented.

"Oh, umm...sorry. You're just...you're amazing...now go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow, it's late, and I really have to go to bed."

"All right...until tomorrow, then...good night, Jesse."

"Good night, Mirry."

She turned and walked inside her house. Jesse took a deep breath, and walked towards his own home...chewing on the necklace he had taken from her. It still held her scent. It was good enough.