Coresspondance
BadKarma
The Advanced Literature monsters burned my house and gave me a 7 Join Date: 2002-11-12 Member: 8260Members
The Advanced Literature monsters burned my house and gave me a 7 Join Date: 2002-11-12 Member: 8260Members
As the title suggests, this will be a series of letters. I borrowed heavily from a short story, cookie for whoever figures out what it is.
The following is a series of letters from Charles Stewart to Edward Weizak.
Dear Bones,
My journey has begun. I have set out on the request of Quohasset Shipping to go to the Ariadne Arm and investigate the lack of communication from the transports there. I know, I know, you dont approve of this but I can assure you, im in good hands. My assistant, James Calhoun, is a stalwart companion. He knows about my recent sickness and is prepared to attend to me if need be.
The ship that we are going to investigate is the <i>Iroquios</i>. The Iroquois is a super-freighter, one of the first to be made. It is not yet obsolete but it is well on it's way. So Bones, don't worry yourself, im in good health and there havnt been any sign of the fever for months. Give my regards to Margarethe.
Yours truly,
Charles
The others will be longer, just introducing the main characters.
The following is a series of letters from Charles Stewart to Edward Weizak.
Dear Bones,
My journey has begun. I have set out on the request of Quohasset Shipping to go to the Ariadne Arm and investigate the lack of communication from the transports there. I know, I know, you dont approve of this but I can assure you, im in good hands. My assistant, James Calhoun, is a stalwart companion. He knows about my recent sickness and is prepared to attend to me if need be.
The ship that we are going to investigate is the <i>Iroquios</i>. The Iroquois is a super-freighter, one of the first to be made. It is not yet obsolete but it is well on it's way. So Bones, don't worry yourself, im in good health and there havnt been any sign of the fever for months. Give my regards to Margarethe.
Yours truly,
Charles
The others will be longer, just introducing the main characters.
Comments
...
spare meh the cookie!!!!!!oneone
BadKarma you always have the best syntaxes for your stories
no cookie for me
I'll tell you what story it is at the end.
BONES JONES AHAHAHAHAHAH
: |
I'm far to easily ammused
So, you could have gotten this from anywhere <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->
Still, it is indeed a good syntax (me hopes that discribes setting of the text...)
let's have more of this <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->
I see you changed your sig to 1.05
^__^
Dear Bones,
I'm sorry to hear about Margarethe, I do hope she recovers soon. From my experiences, the disease is powerful but brief. Keep the faith.
On a more pleasant note, I will oblige you and describe my vessel. This particular ship is very lavish, so much so in fact I almost felt guilty taking the vessel and the payment! On the outside it is not streamlined like the newer ships you see but there is no need for that, it was built in space and was made to stay there. While the outside is not very impressive, it is the inside where the luxury is. I belive the creators of the ship modeled it after any number of 19th century mansions. To my amazement the walls and furniture is real wood! And through the wonders of technology, it has been made to look old, antique, giving the ship a very homey, worn in feel.
We are approching the Arm quickly, we should be there in about 3 days. Oddly, we have not encountered any other vessels but the ships this far on the edge have been known to change routes. James has been agitated but I keep telling him it's just being this far from home.
Yours truly,
Charles
*rubs hands*
then the real stuff of "oh. my. god." start. can't wait...twitiching...
*twitch*
/me slowly backs away from delta
I bought a pack of cookies in the window, so there <!--emo&:p--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/tounge.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='tounge.gif'><!--endemo-->
It's my birthday, yayness!
karma won't mind me hijacking his thread to say happy birthday <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->
will he? <!--emo&:D--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif'><!--endemo-->
We have arrived! God, it is magnificent! You never see ships like these close to home, their too big, they'd clog the lines! One thing I never told you about the Iroquois, it is so large that it was divided into differant sectors or "towns". There are seven, each independant of the other, totally self-suffincent. The one where we'll dock is called "Jerusalem's Lot".
James has become increasingly agitated because of the lack of other ships. It has become a little extraordinary, but still, there are no more than one-thousand ships in the arm at one time.
Tomorrow, myself and James will board the Iroquois. Myself I am not worried but I am sure you still have some anixiety. I am glad Margarethe is on the road to recovery, I send you both my love.
Yours Truly,
Charles
Big hint in this one, if you havnt figured it out by now, you probably wont.
I have some unsetteling news Bones. When we docked with the Iroquois, we had to use a small supply of nanos to power the airlock. This wasnt unexpected. The air supply was fouled by the passing of time so James and I had to wear masks.
If there is one word to describe Jerusalem's Lot, it would be still. The town was still. It was a town. Buildings, roads, trees, looking like a town. The sectors were all far away from the industrialised areas of the ship. Here is where the old and very young would live.
It was horrible. It was a horrible stillness. There was no destruction. There were no signs of piracy or terrorism. Nothing was out of place.
We entered first a simple house. The front door wasnt locked. We entered ready for anything, perhaps even the pirates themselves. Nothing. It was like a family was interuppted during dinner. There were places set at a table. There was a pot of some unknown liquid on the stove.
We soon left the house and quickly noticed the building that dominated the town. It was a church. Large, not very lavish, a typical Baptist church. We mounted the steps.
"Don't, Mr Stewart. We should go back, there is no need for this."
I ignored James and continued. James, faithful companion, followed me. I grasped the old style handle and opened the door. A stench hit us. A stench of rot. Bones, have you ever walked in a forest during the fall after a heavy rain? You know that smell, that smell of rotten foliage? That was the smell. It was that smell mixed with death and age. Jame's head involuntarily whipped to the side, seeking clean air. We continued in.
The church was an abomination. Some madman had been in here. It was ransacked. The pews were in a corner, piled. The stained glass windows in the back of the church were shattered. And the travesty of travesties, the large, ornate gold cross hanging on the back wall was hung [I]upside down[I]. The sign of the devils mass. What insanity had taken place here?
"God" I said.
"There is no God here, Mr. Stewart." Said James.
We left the church. We did not run but I would be lying if I said we took our time.
Bones, I am shaken to my soul. But I swear to remain here until the wherabouts of the crew or the identity of the perpatrators has come to light.
Charles.
...
creepy. so, is this about the Kharaa or satanists/anarchists? <!--emo&:p--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/tounge.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='tounge.gif'><!--endemo--> j/k good stuff
karma you are creepy!
good work, meh wants somemore
Dear Bones,
More unhappy news, Bones. Yesterday, a ship passed us. Not a freighter, it looked like a simple waystation. We hailed it but didn't get a response. It was damaged and we easily gained on it. We docked with it and I went in alone, leaving James to tend the ship.
When I entered, I was immeidiatly met with a man holding some sort of gun. He wasn't pointing it at me but still, it was there. Also, it was quite obvious the man was drunk.
"What has happened here?"
A blank stare from the stranger.
"Sir?"
He spoke up.
"Where are you coming from?"
"Sir?"
"WHERE?"
"Earth"
"No you idiot, what ship."
"Well, we came from Earth in the ship that is now docked with you. We docked with the Iroquois fir-"
Immeidiatly a long string of shots were fired at me. I believe that if it wern't for the whiskey he held in his left hand, i'd be dead now.
I retreated quickly, ducking behind corners until I reached the airlock. Out of ammunition, the man threw his weapon at the closing door.
Bones! You have no idea how frustrating it is to be labelled pariah for no obvious reason! You'd think if the man knew about the goings on in the Iroquois, he'd want to help!
Also, since our encounter with the Iroquois, our ship seems to have developed a bad case of rats. Very large by the sounds.
Yours truly,
Charles
thats awesome
lets have some more!
doing a story in the format of letters is actually a good idea
God what horrors. I know now that this letter probably wont reach you, <i>they</i> deystroyed our communications. But I am ahead of myself.
Bones, in my last letter, I said that we had been hearing noises in the walls. Bones, they were, are, not rats as I and James once thought. When I was writing the last letter, James was exploring the ship a little and found himself in the library. Shortly after completing the letter, he called on the intercom, saying it was urgent. I wasted no time getting there but when I did I found nothing out of the ordinary. James said he had heard things in the walls. He said they were not the usual noises, these noises were urgent, like something clawing against the wall, something trying to get out, to get at him.
James was clearly distressed. We soon set upon figuring a plan of action against the <i>rats</i>. We both figured that if they were anywhere for certain, it'd be in the engine room. With us we took 2 bright flashlights and the crowbar I used to open the hatch to the engine room. I decended first, pointing the light about, seeing nothing in particular. But then there was something, something, <i>not right</i>. Something hazy, ill defined, as if someone had drew a sillouette in the air. Suddenly, it moved. It moved and I was moved to mortal fear. It was hideous, Bones. It was like a dog, but misshapen, crude, as if God had made it out of the leftover clay when he made the world. James screamed. I threw the crowbar at it and I think I stunned it. We ran to the hatch and I can tell we barely made it, I could tell it was breathing on the backs of my legs when James slammed the hatch shut.
James has since welded it firmly shut, reasurring me that nothing could open that hatch now. But Bones the noises, there everywhere, all the time, I see things Bones I dont think I dont thin-
The writing ends abruptly here. The following is an excerpt from the pocket diary of James Calhoun.
Mr.Stewart has taken back to the fever. He is bedridden, with no signs of recovery. It was the encounter with the creature in the engine room, it made him relapse back into the sickness. I must go summon aid but the damned thing has fouled the engines. Mr. Stewart was also halluncinating before he passed out, he had the notion that they deystroyed out communications but one of the Iroquois overhangs broke our dish, leaving us with no way of signalling help. I would go in one of the shuttle's but I fear to leave him alone, alone with the noises in the walls. They only start when your alone. They can tell.
Thats a tall order to fill, you could have a bunch of TSA guys show up to investigate....
I really don't know
you did a great job conveying the fear that they felt
He left. I know why, I hold no grudge. How long was I asleep? But I know now what to do. I must return to that horrible place, I must return to Jerusalem's Lot. I must Do this because I know that all of this lies in that descecrated church.
The following is an excerpt from the pocket diary of James Calhoun.
Oh no. I was too late. He's left back for the Iroquois. Maybe I am not too late. He must still be with the fever. God, I know that I have to follow him.
It's short but the next entries are the last ones.
keep up the good work, and here's hoping your characters go mad...