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Jorm Arcturus
July 10th, 2014, 09:28 AM
Thus, the world ends. Enjoy.


The air was cold, unseasonably, and the wind gusted through the crumbling pillars and palisades that extended as far as the eye could see. There seemed to be whispers on that wind, quiet, disquieting whispers. Whispers that begged to be heard, but by the same token, were refused, out of fear.
The sky was a dismal grey, and the rain fell softly, a steady beat. The desolate buildings and streets silently pleaded for someone to fill them, to give them purpose. The air hung, heavy. No one would ever live here again. Not even the animals would come here.
The wind gusted harder, and dust blew from the buildings to be mixed in the rain, and the streets ran with mud and water. In reality, rain had been falling here nonstop for millennia, a last effort to cleanse the city of that which infected it. But to no avail. Something lingered here, and it was far too resilient to be washed away by rain. Something kept the buildings from toppling, kept the entire city from being erased from the land. And it was stirring.
A rippling sigh blew through the streets, and the rain diminished slightly, and in contrast, the sky grew darker, as if more rain wished to fall, but could not. Again, a swelling sigh, and the rain lessened to scattered drops, too sparse to be rain anymore. Then a quiet groan, and the city trembled with its power.
The rain stopped completely.
The sky darkened to artificial night, and tension built until the air nearly crackled with it. The buildings stood, witnesses to something so ancient, so malevolent, that not even the earth could hold it forever.
The city quivered, shook. The ground split all around, and the earth groaned with pain. Then, unbelievably, the city rose. Buildings crashed against each other, yet stood firm to their foundations, and the streets buckled and twisted, but not one cobblestone fell. And underneath it all, something stood. Its powerful, thick legs flexed and strained, and its maw gaped as it took its first breath in thousands of years, the sound of it a tornado. Its eyes burned, and foul vapors drifted from them.
I have returned, roared Apocalyton, and the world shuddered.

DannyMullen
July 10th, 2014, 06:19 PM
I'm curious: are you going to add to this?

Jorm Arcturus
July 10th, 2014, 08:21 PM
Many thanks for the comment, good sir. It's not necessarily a priority, but, to answer your question, yes.

qwertyportne
July 13th, 2014, 08:43 PM
Good, because I love end-of-the-world stories and look forward to reading more of yours. A few things I would change but will put them on hold until you post the next, what, chapter?

Jorm Arcturus
July 16th, 2014, 02:29 AM
Indeed! I will adding to this soon, assuredly.

Vain Vanir
July 17th, 2014, 10:35 AM
Looks ok but something that struck me was that the story felt rather, chopped up. To me it was like [text]STOP![text]STOP! rather than a continuing flow in the text. It might of course have been your intention but regardless its how it felt to me and I personally didn't really like it.

I may be picky but some words struck me as a odd, on the first page its "unseasonable" but I don't have a freaking clue about what would be seasonable at this moment. Is it winter and its even colder than it should or is it summer? And to become as dark as "artificial night", what's the difference in darkness between artificial and natural night?

Hope it helps somewhat.

Mickd
July 18th, 2014, 02:05 AM
I like where you are going with this, and I think it flows nicely.

rogerblingham
July 19th, 2014, 08:35 AM
It is too short and too quick to make out. I think you can do some elaboration and extend this story.

Jorm Arcturus
August 13th, 2014, 10:05 PM
Very good suggestions all. I will be incorporating them into the next section, coming very soon.

Sc0pe
August 15th, 2014, 09:27 PM
I really like how you explained the setting. I cant really find anything that felt off to me but I hope you continue this.

MizzouRam
September 14th, 2014, 02:26 AM
The air was cold, unseasonably, and the wind gusted through the crumbling pillars and palisades that extended as far as the eye could see. There seemed to be whispers on that wind, quiet, disquieting whispers.
("quiet, disquieting" really threw me off here, seem contradictory)

Whispers that begged to be heard, but by the same token, were refused, out of fear.
The sky was a dismal grey, and the rain fell softly, a steady beat. The desolate buildings and streets silently pleaded for someone to fill them, to give them purpose. The air hung, heavy. No one would ever live here again. Not even the animals would come here.
(You could probably tighten this up a bit. Using here two time in quick order kind of throws me off)

The wind gusted harder, and dust blew from the buildings to be mixed in the rain, and the streets ran with mud and water. In reality, rain had been falling here nonstop for millennia, a last effort to cleanse the city of that which infected it. But to no avail. Something lingered here, and it was far too resilient to be washed away by rain. Something kept the buildings from toppling, kept the entire city from being erased from the land. And it was stirring.

(Okay, the first time I read this I thought about the erosion the comes with a millennium worth of rain fall would entail, but then I reread it and recognized you do point to some supernatural presense. That could either mean I missed it the first time because I have ADD or it means you could explore that more. Probably a little bit of both.)

A rippling sigh blew through the streets, and the rain diminished slightly, and in contrast, the sky grew darker, as if more rain wished to fall, but could not (I don't get this "as if" comparison). Again, a swelling sigh, and the rain lessened to scattered drops, too sparse to be rain anymore. Then a quiet groan, and the city trembled with its power.
The rain stopped completely.

The sky darkened to artificial night, and tension built until the air nearly crackled with it (show me the tension, don't tell me about it). The buildings stood, witnesses to something so ancient, so malevolent, that not even the earth could hold it forever.
The city quivered, shook. The ground split all around, and the earth groaned with pain. Then, unbelievably, the city rose. Buildings crashed against each other, yet stood firm to their foundations, and the streets buckled and twisted, but not one cobblestone fell. And underneath it all, something stood. Its powerful, thick legs flexed and strained, and its maw gaped as it took its first breath in thousands of years, the sound of it a tornado. Its eyes burned, and foul vapors drifted from them. (Try "Its eyes burned, foul vapors drifting from them.")
“I have returned,” roared Apocalyton, and the world shuddered.

Hope this helps. It's a good beginning to a story, but definitely not one in and of itself.