Hello my wonderful pals! How are you all today? Good? Glad to hear it!
Today’s blog post is a little special as it’s yet another one of my Creative Writing stories for an upcoming assessment (this time being a draft) – following the lovely feedback I received from many kind people from good friends to new blog fans – I’m so grateful for your support. So, here’s another treat for you all – or a nightmare – it depends if you like my writing…
Anyway, the theme this time was ‘conflict’ so here’s a little story for you all – not as quirky as ‘Chords’ but hopefully just as enjoyable!
You probably just want me to share with you the story, right? Well, here you go then you impatient lot, enjoy!
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The Final Exit
An original story by Harry Rickard
*CHING!*
“Oh god.” I thought. “How’d I get into this mess?”
I jumped to the side as the giant serrated blade crashed down to the ground once again. The sword came down again and missed me by inches as I aimlessly rolled across the war ground as the weapon violently thrashed the ground once more.
I grabbed my puny blade from the ground – pulled on my even punier helmet and stumbled towards the giant man grasping the death-trap in his mighty fists.
I ducked suddenly as the colossal weapon hurtled towards me – this man was thirsty for blood. My blood.
I ducked and darted around the vast arena – my opponent thundering after me – his hooves penetrating the ground beneath him with every forceful thud. He let out a mighty roar and as he did so, I felt myself quivering – fixed to the ground, unable to move in fear.
“Man up!” I told myself in exasperation, “You’ve trained months and months for this moment – now hold that blade with pride and destroy that foul beast.”
I clenched my sword and stared angrily at my opponent who was now hurtling towards me like a loose cannonball. His eyes were filled with cold fire as he roared once more. This man was insane; to take him on was stupid! And yet here I was. Oh god, I am a fool.
I closed my eyes and hoped it would all be over quickly – there I was, fixed to a spot which was soon to have my blood spilled over it.
This was it, my last performance – the final exit. Oh, and what a way to die – being completely lacerated by a murderous sword-wielding madman.
I opened my eyes briefly and as I did so, I suddenly felt an applause of wind fill the arena – my hair danced with the breeze and suddenly loud noises came from above. Thunder. Dark grey billowing clouds with jagged weapons to accompany it.
As crashes came from above and rumbles overflowed the ground we stood on, painted with the blood of the once-living – I felt a new form of anger erupt inside me. I let out a mighty roar as the lightning crashed into the ground violently. The rain began to tumble and sprayed my reddened face. My opponent suddenly stopped in shock as the lightning bolts smashed into the dirt that lay around him – I saw my chance and hurtled towards him, my eyes full of murder and my blade waiting to meet its contact.
I pounced into the air and as I did, the storm suddenly died out as a sea of grass looked upon me – I swung back my sword and thrashed it forward – the weapon hurtled towards my opponent – straight into his skull.
The sword smacked him violently on the head as he let out a massive cry of defeat. I had won! My opponent who I once feared was dead and I was triumphant. I looked down upon him, lifeless on the ground – his blood spilled across the dirt beneath him. Then the storms came again – this time louder, the thunder clapped and my opponent awoke from his never-ending sleep and then arose the rest of the fallen – we all dropped our swords and bowed as the theatre was filled with the sounds of hearty applause.
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And that’s that! I hope you enjoyed it – if you did, why not leave a comment about your thoughts, like the post and follow for hopefully more creative writing pieces!
But until then, bye chaps!
- Harry Rickard
