Posts Tagged ‘Excerpt’

I will not be posting much of my story here. especially since people tend to take things and claim them as their own. However I did want to share some of the early work of my fantasy creation. A small excerpt of the main character, Sai, encountering an odd occurrence in a nightmare world. all the works below are my own and the rights held by me 🙂 the author. I have not done any editing and there are surely mistakes. This is an absolutely rough first draft. Enjoy




Sai finished another row of the palpa field and unhitched the oxen from their hard task. He began to lead them back towards the homestead and the shelter that housed the work animals. The sun already seemed to be making its decent towards the west and the Sun’s rest mountains. It hung at it’s apex for just a bit before heading back towards the darkness of the horizon that was to come. The chill was out of the air and the work in the fields had brought a sweat to his brow. Sai wiped at it as he finished leading the cattle into their pens in the shelter. He leaned against the doorway that lead into the yard and looked towards the road that lead into town. His pap would be back soon and surely his mam would be making a hearty lunch to steady them against the work to finish the day. As he looked the song of the wind began to dull him again. The sound was so sweet and so barely there that to focus on it was to hear less. Not actively listening he thought he could hear a voice to the melody. The spots of light began to play at the sides of his vision again .

Furiously shaking his head he dug the palms of his hands into his eyes until spots and stars appeared. He blinked into the light of the day and wondered if he was losing his mind. He put his gloves in his back pocket and left the shelter behind walking towards the main house of the homestead. Off towards the right there was a small bunk house that was occupied by the hands that stayed on year round at the farm. There were a handful that had such positions. Someone to help with the animals and some to work in the press house. They were all rather good men and they liked to give Sai a hard time as well, but mostly for some good natured fun. Some of them were coming back from their duties, grabbing a quick bit of food to tide them over before the dinner his mam and the house marm would have prepared for each night. They had one large common room in the house that had a huge oak table. Come dinner it would always be laden with enough to fill the stomachs of the hands and the Serik family. In all aspects the whole group was a family and Enoch made sure they all knew that. It was a good reason why some of the hands had been around all of Sai’s life. Some of them had surely been around in the time of Sai’s grandfather, back when the ranch was his and Enoch was Sai’s age.

Some of them nodded at Sai as he made his way towards the house. Lunch in the great house was reserved for the family only. It was really the only time that they could eat together and alone. . Breakfast was always a quick affair, some hard bread and butter and off to the fields to get as much work in as possible in the fleeting daylight. As he reached the steps onto the large porch that circled the house the melody began to grow in his ears. The dull sweetness took his mind and he saw one of the spots of light come right in front of his face. a soft voice called out against the melody. “Be Still” the two words said and at that Sai collapsed into darkness.

A buzz flowed through his thoughts as he opened his eyes. He was standing but he did not remember getting to his feet. The world around him was devoid of colors. That was not entirely true. Faint lines and whisps seemed to flow from object to object. Light strands of gold gossamer thread flowed and hung in the air. They wound and past through the trees, the grass and all that was. Sai looked around in detached wonder. He held his hands up in front of his eyes and gazed at the golden threads that emanated from his fingers and connected the landscape around him. The flow of the threads passed through him and as it did he could feel the warmth and vibration, a tingle that traced his body. The hands in front of him though were somehow different, not his own. He looked at them again and with detached effort let them fall to his side. Moving now he was walking in a clearing, the muted colors around him eerie. The once vibrant autumnal colors gone into varying shades of gray. Sai gazed into the woods that circled the clearing. His vision could not see past the first few trees. Deep infinite blackness saturated beyond. The seemed to move around him instead of him through it. The clearing center was now behind and the line of trees closer and closer. The golden threads seemed to spark and shimmer more and more clearly as the darkness approached. He willed his hand to come up and feel their warmth again but it would not listen. A drumming began to fill the silence, a lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. His heart beat pounding forcefully in his chest and head. The pain of it so intense thoughts of death came to him. Let go. He wanted to just collapse right there in the clearing the the black forest came closer greeting him with its cold outstretched limbs.

The flowing threads disappeared, the woods claimed him, claimed his vision and the clearing ceased to be. The beat of his heart was unbearable now, the pain so great he would cry out if he could. Blackness filled his eyes but his mind sense the world moving around him. creatures filled his mind. Black beasts that melted into the night. The world began to close in. The phantoms circling about closer and closer. Claustrophobia, panic.

A light broke through the darkness, It was of pure white. The light that twinkle from the stars of the night sky. The light came closer and barely larger. Its glow an inviting break in the abyss that was his world. The light came closer and Sai could make out a tiny creature. It looked like something that the old men of the village would tell of in their stories, myths. A sprite. Sai desperately wanted to say hello. However his mouth would not work. He tried to feel his tongue but it was not there. The creature came right up to his eye, so close that any closer it would have been a blurry spot. It looked at him and smiled. If he had to say anything it was a she. Her image a pure white body with a furry glow where arms would have been. She had the palest skin that he had ever seen, white with specks of gold that seemed to be jewels adorning her cheeks and legs. Her smile was reassuring and mischievious at the same time.

“Be Still” her only words to him and in a blink she was gone, the world was rushing up around him, still blackness. With greater and greater speed. The blackness, the phantoms and the beasts of nothing flew up around him. Sai began to scream silently in his head. Nothings lurched for him, touching, clawing. His body began to twist and tumble. Mumbling grew into a roar filling his ears. Jolting, shaking. “ Sai…..” A faint calling through the noise “Sai” He called for vision, he pleaded for light. He begged to be released from the nightmare that wanted to devour him “SAI!”   


by Dan Bahr





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(unedited, don’t care about errors)

The old man began to stir in the chair he was now prisoner too. The sentry sat in front of him and a little off to the side into the darkness beyond the light of the overhead bulb that lit the area near the beam. Sentry sat still and quiet, just watching as awareness began to creep into the old man’s eyes. He shook his head apparently trying to clear the haze from the hit he had taken earlier. He had been out for nearly an hour, no doubt he had already sustained a concussion. The doctor began to blink and look around the room, his head bobbing and swaying slightly in the slowly returning consciousness. Sam coughed a few times and winced at the pressure it applied to the wound on his head.

“How nice of you to finally wake up, such a rude host to stay asleep for so long.” Sentry said from the shadows and the doctor immediately turned towards the sound of the voice. His vision was no doubt still blurry as he blinked hard trying to clear his eyes.

“Who are you?” Sam coughed again, wincing “What are you doing in my house and why do you have me tied up down here.”

“You sure ask a lot of questions being the one who is tied up with nowhere to go. Don’t think you can set the tone of things.” Sentry rose from the shrouded chair and stepped into the light. He was an imposing figure, dressed all in black. Black pants that looked suited to someone in special ops. A black jacket, full of pockets and zippers covered his torso, it looked like something a pilot would wear, maybe just a little different. He had on his black sunglasses, horned rimmed, his hair slicked back tight and neat. He still had his black leather gloves on and a pair of black combat boots. Even wearing them he still made no noise as he he approached the prisoner and knelt down before him. “I will be the one asking the questions here Doctor Samuel Greggory.” He reached a gloved hand to the bounds mans chin and squeezed it firmly. “Do you understand that?” Sam spat in the mans face, a smear hung against his sunglasses. “Now that was a mistake.” Sentry patted sam’s cheek mockingly and stood up.

“Screw you… Let me out of here” Sam began to struggle against his bindings but failed to make any headway. The dark figure took off his glasses and withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket to clean them, and then his face. How disgusting he thought as he replaced the glasses and went to the old end table that housed his tools. Sam began to shout and yell at the top of his lungs. The noise echoed around the basement. Sentry picked up the straight edge razor blade that was on the table and held it up to the light. Sam instantly froze, staring at the item as it glinted in the light. Its clean stainless steel surface shining brightly.

“Do you really think that anyone is going to hear you down here? I don’t think so.” He shook his head and looked at the tool in his hand and then back at the tied up man. “If I were you I would save your strength. You are going to need it.” Sam’s eyes grew big as the captor stepped towards him. Realization filled the spaces that were not held to terror.

“You!..you are the one that shot LC!” He tried to struggle against the tape and bindings again but it was as futile as the first attempt.

“Ahh, so you know about that. Maybe this will go a little easier than I thought, but that really isn’t any fun. I like to have to work for it a bit. What has Mr Everrett told you his recent endeavors?” He began to reach the blade out towards the man’s face. He grabbed his hair with his other hand and held on tight so that the man could not thrash his head about.

“He hasn’t told me anything. What do you want? I haven’t done anything!” Sam yelled looking at the man, his eyes flitting back and forth to the blade.

Sentry pulled his head back “Not good enough Mr Greggory” The blade sliced across the man’s cheek causing a gaping wound. Crimson blood instantly began to flow from the slice. The man screamed. This time with more gusto than he had before. Sentry turned and grabbed the cotton rag from the table and shoved it forcefully into the man’s mouth. HE mumbled and cried from behind it, gurgled noises tried to make their way out.

The captor began to circle around the old man. Sam’s eyes were trying to pop their way out of his head, the terror that filled them was a little joy to the man as he circled around the chair, like a bird of prey circling what was to be its next meal. This was much easier than any conflict in nature though. There was no chance that his target was going to find a way out of this one. The trap was already closed tightly around the poor prey.

“If you want this to be as easy as it can be you will tell me everything that I need to know.” The man in black stopped in front of sam and in a slow methodical motion reached his armed hand towards the man. Sam’s eyes remained transfixed on the blade. Sentry held it in front of his face, tormenting him. In a quick motion he sliced across the man’s forehead opening a new wound that soon bled into the prisoners eyes. Gurgled pleas came from behind the cotton cloth. Sam’s face was now a mix of crimson red and ashen white. All the color drained from the unbloodied flesh, or what was left of it. Sentry brought his other hand in quickly to the man’s stomach and punched hum forcefully. Sam began to struggle to breath. Sentry went to the table and placed the razor blade down and picked up the hammer that was sitting neatly on its top. He walked over and tore the gag from sam’s mouth as he struggled to breath. He gasped, sucking in air through ragged lungs. He coughed and choked as he tried to find his voice. “Now if you scream again the rag goes back in, and you might not be able to breathe. You don’t want that now do you?” He asked with a menacing smile on his face. Sam shook his head and looked down at the hammer in the mysterious man’s hands.

“What do you want?” Sam, slowly began to catch his breath, the gasps grew less forceful. The dark clad man stepped forward, dragging the small coffee table behind him. The sound it made as it scraped against the concrete floor was similar to nails on a chalkboard. Psychological warfare was something that Sentry enjoyed, not as much as actual physical warfare, but it was all part of the bigger picture. He placed the table in front of sam and pulled his bound hands to it. He held his wrists there with one hand and held the hammer out at his side.

“I want you to tell me the truth. I want you to tell me everything that you know about LC Everett…. You lie and you pay. If you satisfy me, I may just make this quick.” He slammed the hammer down against the older man’s hand. The sound of fingers breaking from the force could be heard. Sam screamed and then cut the noise out quickly, too afraid to anger the man. His fingers were a mangled mess of twisted flesh and bone. He sobbed, his tears mixing with the blood that stained his face. “Now that I have your attention we can continue”


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Being that I am hopped up on cold meds and caffeine to counteract the drowsy effects I have no idea if what I am writing is any good. I don’t plan on rereading anything till the month is up though, so I may be pleasantly surprised or horrified.

Yesterday I was off, which was a blessing for two reasons. First I was able to get a head start on my writing for NaNoWriMo. I put in more than 9000 words which is roughly a little more than five days of writing. This is great because I never know when life is going to get in the way, even though that thought is funny if you know my life and how little comprises of its daily tasks. Second I am sick as a dog so it was nice to be off. Unfortunately I am just as sick today and have to go back out into the working world. I am sure that it will prove to be a long day of blowing my nose between helping customers. I would call in if I could but I don’t think they would appreciate that.

Regarding my story I am happy with where things are going write now. The characters are taking shape and my direction is changing as I go. I am enjoying writing about the private detective in my story. This is the kind of thing I have never really done before. MY writing in the past has always been in the sci fi and fantasy genre, sometimes even horror in short story form. It is fun to be creative in a different way. I was told though that mysteries can be difficult especially the way that I right, which is making a lot of it up as I go. I am sure there will be some trying times, hopefully though I will be able to work through them.

Anyways below I have included an excerpt from the story so far where the private detective is revealed. Let me know what you think.


Private Detectives Location


The office sat in the middle of a rundown strip mall just off of the highway. Half of the stores were shuddered up, signs of a small town bending under the weight of an economy that could no longer support it. Only two other businesses were left in business inside of its cookie cutter store front space. One of them was a used book store specializing in four for a dollar specials and where no real gems could be found or were already picked through and sold for much greater profit online. The second of the three occupied spaces held a cramped asian market that held all sorts of oddities and aromas that could not be deciphered, nor did many really want to know what they really were. The third little shop held an office. Nothing special about it. Plate glass out front read LC Everett PI. He was a rare breed in these woods. A detective trying to make his own way and not officed in a larger city. He would work there of course but drew the line at having to reside there. Everett enjoyed the slower pace of this area and was just fine with the slow business as long as he could always pay the bills, which was most months that is. The front room held two chairs and a receptionist desk that was never manned. The two chairs supposedly for if he ever had more than one client in at a time. Lc could not remember if that had ever actually happened. In the back office LC made his home among the file cabinets that held his years of work. Mostly spouses trying to catch their cheating significant others. And most of the time their hunches were dead on. He did not enjoy that part of the job. Confirming to individuals that there marriage truly was over and it was time to hire a lawyer instead of a private dick. There were good moments though, which were few and far between, and then there was the grey area that filled everywhere else.

LC was upper middle aged. Balding and big in stature. Not out of shape by any means but the kind of country big that one would find on the farm. In his youth he was the town hero. Football star in highschool. Promise and all that until an injury ended his playing days and he decided to take up law enforcement. He was a good cop. Honest and tenacious when it came to finding the truth. Many times at the cost of the law that he felt shielded criminals far too much. He left, on who’s terms he never says and started his own path to finding the truth where he would have the leeway and freedom to use the means necessary. He had regrets about the past, but those are just it, the past, now he deals in other peoples pasts.

Before him scattered on the desk were a few files. These files were not of the typical types that he saw come through his office. There were two names on the files. Each of them a case of a missing loved one. In each case there was no evidence of foul play and in each case the police never opened an investigation. These two cases were his hobby. The things he worked on during his own time. Cases that occupied him as a puzzle he could not solve. He was preparing for his weekly update. It was a task he felt obligated to complete even though he knew that it was not necessary. He looked over the first file and dialed the number having committed it to memory. He cleared his throat as the line rang. On the other end an elderly woman picked up the phone.

“Mrs. Harris?” he waited for her reply knowing already that it was the 70 year old woman he had spoken with weekly for almost two years now. “Yes Mrs Harris, its LC Everett…. Yes Mrs Harris” Her voice was distant and quiet as she spoke “No Mrs Harris, unfortunately I don’t have any good news. I have not found anything new yet…. I am sorry” She paused on the line and for a moment no one spoke “I will keep working to find your son mrs harris…” He looked at the picture of the 46 year old scientist. He looked like any average decent person. Missing for two years now and no new information. “Mrs Harris you do not need to worry about sending me any payment. We talked about this already” He paused to let her say she insisted. “If you want to send me anything send me some of that cranberry bread I love so much. We will call it even then…. Alright Mrs Harris. Have a good night”

With that he hung up the phone and set the picture back on the desk. He rubbed his fist into his eyes trying to relax away some of the strain. Not having the answers was the toughest part of the job. Not knowing, when knowing was what he did. He had spent thousands of his own money on these cases and could he say he was any closer? He sighed and picked up the second folder. “Angela Beal” This was a call that he would not have to make again. He was too late for this one. LC picked up the news paper on the far end of his desk and flipped it open. He set it down flat and looked in his desk. Rummaging for an item until he found what he was after. Withdrawing a pair of scissors he began to cut into the paper. Methodically he clipped out a small article the size of a common coupon. On it was the picture of a man. He found a pin and stood up walking over to the cork board on the far end of the room across from his desk. He pushed the pinned article into the board and stood there reading the obituary for the fifth time that day. The picture was that of Thomas Beal, loving husband of Angela Beal. The obit failed to state it but LC new the facts. Thomas Beal was found in his garage by a neighbor with his car running. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning. LC was too late for him. He failed Thomas and Angela too. He vowed to continue his search for answers.

He shook his head and grabbed his wool jacket off of the rack by the door as he headed from his office and locked the door. He had to touch base with the facts again. Or try to start from the beginning. It was a good thing he never married because if he was any wife would obviously think he was out cheating and would soon have another PI out investigating him. All they would find would be a man obsessed with his job and answers. This was his life, and it was his passion. At the moment he did not need anything else, except maybe for some black coffee, the kind of stuff that would raise the hairs on your neck. He knew just the place and smiled as he got into his dinged up Cadillac. It wasn’t pretty but atleast it was roomy and reliable. That was what he needed. He started the car and quickly pointed it in the direction of the Route 42 café.

He drove along the back roads and side streets, taking his time, taking in the surroundings. As always watching and observing. He loved the lifeblood of small towns and cities. They were always alive if not on as big a scale as the big cities, but here you could more easily pick out the character that completed the city as a whole. Every place this size had a living breathing life of its own. He could always feel its pulse and knew exactly where to get the most current information if you knew how to weed out the facts from the gossip. In LC’s mind gossip always had some truth in it. That is what would make it juicy.

(works copyright of the blog owner)

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