Shirmere the Unclean. A small bit of something I whipped up. - Writers Forum

Dragonscales · 12-15-2005, 08:30 AM

This is a portion of a short story I am currently writing and I wanted to know what you think. It is only a rough draft at the moment so the exact wording isn't set in stone yet (I am 100% open to any suggestions regarding this as well as general thoughts, etc, though). Enjoy!

A shrill call breaks the still of night, frightening a nearby slumbering bird. The distinctly human voice awakens Shirmere the Unclean from his deep slumber within the bowels of the earthen tomb he calls home. Slowly and methodically, he stirs his body into action, wrenching himself upright. His grotesque head lolls from side to side as he tries to get bearing on where the noise originated, while milky hued eyes scan the hovel in which he dwells. The filth encrusted earthen walls of the den seem to pulsate with malicious life, great bulbous worms squirm out of holes as various beetles and insects scuttle back and forth. Cockroaches, devil's coachmen and all manner of miniature life thrives in the filthy residence. Shirmere knows why they prefer the squalid living quarters he inhabits and the fettered, vile stench which clings to the inner sanctum over the pure, fresh and unencompassing air above. The sickly sweet scent of decaying flesh and rotting cadavers is what brings the endless stream of visitors to shirmere's dwelling. All around the nightmarish abode lie dozens of corpses in various states of dismemberment. Limbs that were roughly hewn off and tossed aside in rapturous glee litter the dirty room. Disemboweled torsos lie amidst the chaotic disarray, their entrails spewed out onto the floor in a sticky, gruesome mess while severed heads slowly exude thick, syrupy liquids from deep within their craniums. Bodies line the walls, propped up into position like antiquated, Egyptian statues, their souless eyes remaining vigilant over the vile acts committed around them.

At one end of the room against a wall lies a heavy wooden table, it's thick surface marred with deep scratches and gruesome stains from the countless horrific rituals committed upon it. The tabletop is constantly cluttered with an assortment of odds and ends, utensils and other things Shirmere picks up on his nightly wanderings. Knives, bonesaws, pliers and other garish tools lie waiting to commit wicked deeds inside an open, rusty tin box, their blades long since dullened and their well kept lustre faded and replaced with a copious layer of crimson decay. Broken watch parts and dirty lockets lie scattered throughout the old, yellowed newspapers, dusty wallets and cracked eyeglasses which make up the staple contents of the table. Each item eminates an aura of loneliness and dispair, the untold horrors of the owner's demise etched painfully upon their tarnished surfaces. The table is, for all it's intents and purposes, a shrine to the dead while the trinkets retained from the victims are the last vestiges of an empty echo of existence long since quenched. Shimere licks his cracked, twisted lips feverishly and emmits a low, garbled hissing chuckle as he scans the tabletop, casually tossing things aside in his search. He reaches into the toolbox and ferrets around for a few moments before pulling from it's depths an old, stained hammer. Dozens of long dead eyes cast stonelike gazes on the hammer as shimere's face beams into a contorted smile, his dead flesh pulled taut across disfigured bones like a canvas laid out to prime. Haunting scenes flash before his sunken eyes as he runs his decayed fingers along the handle, relishing in the memory of the countless deeds he and his old friend have commited together. A further muffled voice carried by the wind to his lair snaps Shimere from his reverie and with a lurch, he turns and heads for the stone steps leading to the air above.

Transponderous · 12-15-2005, 01:52 PM

Very gruesome visuals there, DScales. What kind of sicko are you? (joking) This is pretty good just as a little imagery sample. You have a story, plot this leads into? If so please post more.

Just a few pointers/nit-picks:

the earthen tome he calls home

A tome is a book, did you mean tomb?

Slowly, yet methodically,

This doesn't seem right. Slowly and methodically have very similar meanings, so yet, which implies contrast doesn't work well.

It may be just me, but the part with the hammer seems a little to drawn out. But, heck I wish I loved my job that much.

Chinaren · 12-18-2005, 02:05 AM

Like it! Like it! more please!

Dragonscales · 12-24-2005, 12:03 AM

Thanks for pointing out the indiscrepancies there transponderous, I missed them when I was proofreading, all fixed now.

As for the hammer part, I wanted to emphasise that it had been used for various nefarious deeds before, as well as draw attention to Shirmere's obvious attatchment to it.

Plot-wise, I want to keep it in the same vein as alot of H.P Lovecraft's short stories but take it one step further in regards to the darker side of things. I have a basic outline in my head atm but nothing set in concrete. I won't post anything here yet as I'll add more as I write it.

Chinaren · 12-24-2005, 07:10 AM

Quote:

I have a basic outline in my head atm but nothing set in concrete

If you like ideas for your story try the www.cityfif.com site. I write most of my stuff on there, 'cos you can get a lot of feedback and input from the readers.

Anyway, come on, next chapter!