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VAMPIRE EROTIC THRILLER
CHAPTER 1
Jaq opened his eyes to a man holding a stake to his heart. Grabbing the shaft, he shoved it away from his body, thankful that vampires no longer slept in coffins. If he had been sleeping in a coffin, the stake would have bounded off the hardwood sides and into his body.
Jaq sprung from the bed before his assailant could recover. A sound from behind told Jaq there was someone else in the room. He turned and grabbed the woman’s arm flinging her forward into a wall so he could keep an eye on them both.
Jaq wasn’t surprised when the woman grabbed a cross from her pocket. Stepping forward, he swatted it from her hand and slapped her across the face. “Idiot,” he said before dissipating into the shadows and leaving his would-be killers alone in the eighteenth-century Victorian mansion. His Indianapolis haven was no longer safe. It was fine. He had a room permanently booked at the Terre Haute House in Terra Haute, Indiana.
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From what I can tell, this is a mosiac essay. Do I remeber what that is? Nope. Did I write it for a master's level English class about10 years ago? Yep. is it any good? Hell if I know. I can't even remember what a mosiac is...
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This is another tidbit that was probably written between 1995 and 1998. While I would consider this to be pure and utter crap compared to what I write today, sometimes we need to understand the developmental process. The overall theme is something I still use today. Make it dark. Make it disturbing. This qualifies as both. But this is also quantifiably terrible, and it also qualifies as poetry, which I wouldn't write today. In my writing process, especially when I was younger, I wrote poetry to make sense of my own thoughts. These types of things were written when I couldn't string two words together. I do not read or write poetry today because if I wrote it due to being unable to write..... well, uhhh . . yeah. That's the long and short.
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I think I wrote this in 1995 or 1996. I am fairly certain this was an English assignment in high school. I'm also pretty sure I got an "A". Imagine turning this in today. You or your kid would probably be shoved off to the nearest psychologist. However, I am not posting this because I think it's good. I'm posting this to let you know that we all start somewhere.
This is unedited and uncorrected from the text that was in the notebook, which means it's not perfect (in fact upon skimming this, it has developmental errors out the ass), and not the stories I churn out today, but you as you can see, I was fucked in the head even back then.
Just wanna be your fucked-up author!
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THE FIELD
Over the hills and through the woods to grandmother’s house... Okay, not really, Officer Locke thought. He shined his flashlight on a pair of dingy wader boots. The man had been dead less than 24 hours. No blood. No weapon. No trauma. Just dead.
“What do you think?” Officer Smith asked as the CSI’s roped off the area.
“It’s fucked.” Locke said.
“Man looks asleep.”
“Yeah. For eternity. God rest his soul.” Locke gazed at the starless sky.
“Coroner’s on the way.” Smith said.
“Dr. Black?” Locke asked.
“Yeah. Him.”