The Lost Welshman
This is my new story. Its based on me, and is not the usual fantasy crap that I write. Please tell me what you think, its not finished btw.
The Lost Welshman
The time was march 16th 2012, 18.53pm, and the 24 year old Alex Morris was on his way home from his work as a graphics designer. He was in his car, talking to himself as usual, ‘Well that was a productive days work’ he said as he looked at the papers in the passenger seat with just a few scribbles on. There was a huge crash of thunder through the sky, and soon rain began to fall; light at first but it soon began to hammer down on the windows of the car. ‘Typical British weather’ Alex moaned as the automatic windscreen wipers came on. Alex was on a main road, speeding slightly as he always did. There was suddenly a huge orange glow from over the horizon, so Alex sped up to see what had happened.
A car crash. There had been a head on collision between a truck and very old car, a Citroen Saxo. The police were swarming around the flames, stopping people from entering the circle they made around the accident. Alex noticed a man dressed in all black, with no hands showing and with a hood on. He stepped straight passed the police without them noticing him. The figure then turned to Alex and then back to the car, which it then stood by. With a flash of lightning the figure had gone and a police officer stood up, and shook his head at the other police. The truck driver went white and then turned to be sick on the side of the road. Alex felt cold, and he drove on slowly.
Car crashes were very rare in this time, most cars were fitted with protective boosting jets, that pushed the car away from any sort of collision when something entered a sensor area, commonly nicknamed as a force field. The jets were not visible until the point of boosting. The Citroen Saxo was too old to have this function fitted, and the truck to heavy. Alex wasn’t shaken up because of the crash, or the fact that someone had died, he felt used to death, he had dealt with it all his life. He was shaken up because of the figure that he saw. He didn't usually see things, but he did have strange dreams, so just dismissed it after a while of thinking. He soon pulled up to his house, got out of the car and locked it as he rushed over to the house in the rain. He looked up onto the roof and noticed his TV signal boosting satellite was knocked over, so he couldn’t watch the rugby match that his friends were coming over to watch. Alex moaned as he paused to look at it, then he entered the warmth of his house.
Alex looked at his watch, 20.21, ‘crap, they’ll be here soon’ He said as he decided to go and fix the satellite now while the lightning had stopped. He went into the garage and picked up a ladder. He opened the garage door which soon became bombarded with rain. Alex climbed onto the roof of the house and went to pick up the satellite but slipped. He quickly caught onto the top of the roof and pulled himself to his feet. He then positioned the satellite to its correct position. ‘Done’ he said in relief. He then noticed his friends car entering the village, he could see everywhere in the small village from the roof. His friend Jason was driving with Granville in the front seat and David in the back. Jason was crazy when it came to driving, although he was good at it. Alex waved, although he knew they wouldn’t see him. Alex turned around to find the ladder but a huge bolt of lightning shot from the sky and into his back garden, making him slip. Alex rolled down the roof and his neck made a crack as it slammed against the floor.
Alex couldn't move, his eyes were fixed open, and couldn't move. He could only think, wonder what was happening. The black sky lit up, into a bright white as a bolt of lightning cracked through the sky. It froze, everything seemed to stay still. The sky was white, and the bolt of lightning was still. Soon a black figure stood above him. ‘Hello there’ it said, in a hollow, but somewhat friendly voice. The figure was the same that was at the car crash. Alex still couldn’t move, ‘Don’t worry, you’re not paralyzed, you’re just dead’. Alex didn’t feel surprised. ‘So if you’ll just stand up and follow me.’ Everything began to move again, and suddenly a car smashed into the figure, flipping it over the roof of the car and into the ground, when it soon burst into flame and disappeared. Alex stood up. ‘I’m dead’ He said to himself. He then turned back to look at his body, it wasn’t there. He paused, wondering if it should be there or not, he then tried walking through a wall, nothing happened, except for the fact that he walked into a wall. Alex looked back to where the figure last lay, and he saw a piece of paper, which seemed to fly around until it found itself in Alex’s hand. It said:
‘To the beholder,
As you’ve probably guessed I, Death, am dead.
Its kind of ironic I know, but don’t worry, I
needed retirement. I'm not sure what the rules
are so you’ll have to wait until tomorrow so I
can sort something out. If I was in the middle of
‘Reaping’ you while this happened I’m sorry,
you’re not dead yet. Don’t worry though. Now
you are one of ‘the awoken’ what ever that is,
‘So I'm not dead?’ Alex thought, ‘Cool’ The he welcomed his guests and they all stepped into the dryness of the house.
The Lost Welshman
The next day Alex woke up, feeling great. As if he could do anything. He had no idea how close he was to the truth. He got changed into his casual clothes as it was Sunday, and sorted out his hair quickly in his wardrobe mirror. It was a very bright day, the sunlight lit up the room as Alex opened the curtains. They a warm breeze blew into the room as he opened the window. ‘I can’t believe I fell off the roof and passed out. Ah well’ Alex said to himself as he stared out of his window at the back garden. He then walked to his bedroom door. He stopped as he felt a piece of paper in his pocket, he pulled it out and noticed one word ‘Death’ and realized it wasn't a dream. He felt light headed. Then he slowly opened his bedroom door. A bright light made him cover his eyes, but he soon adjusted. It was a large white room. Alex stepped in and heard the sound of footsteps down a corridor. Then a door opened, and there stood the figure he saw the night before, ‘hi Death’ Alex said jokingly.
‘Hello Welshman’ Death replied as he flicked through a pile of papers, ‘Have a seat’ he said as he pointed behind Alex. Alex turned and saw a table with two chairs either side that wasn’t there before. He sat down and spoke, ‘Where am I?’ Alex asked. Death laughed quietly to himself, ‘where am I?’ he said mockingly, ‘I'm lost, I'm the lost Welshman.’ He laughed again, ‘ So lost Welshman, you haven’t figured it out. Since your friend decided to kill me I'm stuck here in the afterlife. You on the other hand are let free. I don’t know how the system works but I’ve got an eternity of retirement so I’m ok with it.’
‘What do you mean let free?’ Alex asked
‘I mean you’re not like normal humans anymore, you are one of the awoken.’ Alex had a confused stare on his face. Death sighed, ‘A Reaper! Like I was!
‘Oh, so I have to ‘reap’ all the dead people in the world’
‘No. You get a lot of money but there are a few other people doing reaping, not officially mind you. You just handle the odd case or two in a month. Too easy if you ask me. In my day…’ Alex began to think about being Death and then interrupted,
‘So I’m Death then?’ He asked
‘Yeah, but you’re gonna have to have a new name, you can’t say, I’m Alex The Reaper. You need a cool name, like The Grim Reaper, or the Angel of Death. But those are taken, they were the first. Oh and you can’t have my name.’
‘The Ferryman,’ Death sighed again, ‘Children these days.’
‘How about…..The Lost Welshman?’
‘Yeah, that could work for you. I have to go now, you’ll get your reaping
equipment in the post and then you can have today off.’
A Black flash brought Alex back to his house. He felt excited. Suddenly he heard the post arrive. He looked down the spiraling staircase and decided to try something, and he launched himself over the banister and although he hurtled to the floor he landed softly on the ground. ‘Cool’ he said to himself.
Nice story i deffintley like it how you brought a bit of star warsie into it and deffintley death sound's like me :eek: what i am the Grim Reaper but anyway nice stroy not long enough though :mad:
well, it's a great story, though the sentences tend to get long, and thereby, confusing. you might work on that;) for the rest, superb!:thumbsup:
Ok Here is a bit more, Although I think I got carried away:
Alex stepped towards the door and opened it. On the floor was a large cardboard box with no writing or anything. Alex picked it up, it was very light, and then took it into the kitchen and lay it on the table. He then went back for the rest of the post and closed the door. ‘All junk mail’ he said as he threw them in the bin. ‘Now what’s in this box’ Alex said as he opened it. As soon as the box was open a bright white light shot out of it. Followed by a deep, cryptic voice, ‘The lost Welshman, you have been awoken. You must take the souls of the few chosen people into the administration. More will become clear as you reap the first. In this box are your personalized weapons, The Swords of Lost and The Twins, apparently Scythes are not ‘hip’ anymore. Enjoy! ’ The Light faded and Alex looked into the box.
Inside the box were two swords, almost Identical to each other. They both had average sized silver blades that were slightly curved and very reflective. The handles of the swords were different, one had a black handle with gold rings; about three of them down the handle. The other had a gold handle with black rings. Alex picked up the swords, and began to practice. It came so easily to him, although he had never even seen a sword in real life. He placed the swords on the table and reached into the box, wondering what the voice meant by ‘The Twins’. Alex grabbed two objects, both very cold. He pulled them out, they were two pistols. They looked the same except for the writing on the side. They were mainly black, not normal gun black, this was very shiny black. And then there were gold bits down the barrels, on the triggers, and on all of the sights. The writing was in gold on both guns one said ‘Slayer’ and the other said ‘Reaper’, the names didn’t mean anything they just made them sound cool.
The box wasn’t empty yet, there was still a long black robe inside, and what looked like holders for the swords and holsters for the guns, there was also some ammo for the guns. ‘This is scary’ Alex said to himself, ‘I go from my everyday life to this, and I’m not worried about the fact that everything has changed, I'm not Alex Morris anymore but that doesn’t bother me, I am The Lost Welshman, a Reaper’ With that said he realized to himself that he was talking to himself so he left the house to meet his friends.
So The Lost Welshman was out of his house, not worrying about anything, feeling invincible, but always looking both ways before crossing the road. He left his quiet village and stepped onto a main road and suddenly realized that he was given weapons for a purpose. He always thought the infamous scythe was used to kill the people who had died. But why was he given so much weaponry for dealing with dead people. He became weary of his surroundings, and began to walk on. Lost crossed to road and began walking next to a hedge from someone's front garden. There was a faint whisper, it was a piercing deep voice. Lost walked on, he heard something from the other side of the hedge, so leaned to listen closer. ‘so you have been awoken, you wont survive the night’ the voice said. Lost’s eyes lit up, and he found one of the swords in his hand, although he had no idea how it got there; he left the weapons in the house. There was a rustling in the hedge and Lost clenched his hands, now noticing he had both swords. Something shot out of the hedge and Lost span around to attack, but it was just a bird. He relaxed and turned around, and in front of him stood a tall black, shadowlike figure. ‘Just because you are death doesn’t mean you control the dead. We control the dead, no doubt you know of the war. If you take people then the pathetic army you belong to grows more powerful. We cannot let that happen. We are what people fear in death, we feed on the evil of this world. We are Hell’
Lost slashed the shadow with a sword, cutting off its head. There was a horrible wail as the creature fell to the ground. Then its body glided back into the shadow of the hedge while the head stared up with its red eyes, before turning into black smoke and fading away. ‘What the crap was that!’ Lost said as he tried to catch his breath. He walked backwards and tripped as he came to the edge of the pavement. Then he quickly jumped to his feet before his head was crushed by the wheel of a car. Lost went to scratch his head and realized he had a hood on, he had the robe on. That explained why the car didn’t attempt to stop. Lost decided to figure out what he could and couldn’t do. He ran across the road when it was clear and jumped, he seemed to glide through the air until he reached the bottom of the long road. ‘That was fun’ he said, and a girl turned around and asked ’What was fun?’
‘You can see me?’ Lost questioned,
‘...Yeah, weirdo’ The girl said as she turned and walked off. Lost checked and he was back in his normal clothes. He wondered what the hell was happening, he didn't know how to find out, apart from the fact that he had to kill someone. But he didn’t know who.
ohh, it keeps getting better!
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