Writer's Block

They all looked at each other, puzzled.
"Maybe check that thing over to the left?", said Sophie. "It looks interesting."
"It's pink - that's why it looks interesting to you. And what good would looking at it do? It won't change what we see - what's he going to do? Walk closer and say that yes, it is indeed pink?"
"Well, why don't you suggest something, Bob? You've been bloody useless so far!"
Treguard ahem-ed loudly and made a cutting gesture to the camera.
"Life Force is weak, dungeoneers. And the shoggoth is not far behind you."
"I think we should try blowing the horn again, to see if a wall collapses so we can escape."
"Oh, a horn solution again, Dave - that's been your suggestion to every room since we got it. Maybe a wall will collapse, or maybe it'll frighten away the goblin, or perhaps it'll shake free a key trapped somewhere we can't reach"
Treguard noticed that the figure in the helmet had started absent-mindedly scratching himself, and signalled the producer that enough was enough.
"Make haste, dungeoneers...no, it is too late - the shoggoth arrives!"
"What's happening?" said the forgotten figure in the helmet, "I hear something large approaching"
Then the screen was suddenly covered by a large, vaguely-humanoid mass...the Life Force vanished in an instant, and just as the screen went out they heard a terrible scream.
"Ooh, nasty." said Treguard.
"Is that it? Five minutes of sodding gameplay after waiting five months?!"
"Your quest was short, dungeoneers, but eventful."
"Bollocks to that - let's have another try. I'll be in the helmet this time."
"I'm afraid it's time for you to leave, Sophie. Try entering again next season, though. Security will show you out."
They all glared at Treguard in silent fury, then sullenly walked to the exit. As they left, Sophie kicked Treguard hard in a tender area.
"Ooh, nasty." said Bob, sarcastically.

for those who missed out :Knightmare

"Cheese."
Aldernak was pacing up and down the hallway, rubbing his chin and mumbling under his breath.
"Cheese, cheese, cheese."
Sophie watched him warily, wondering if he'd finally lost the last of his marbles. They'd shared a flat for nearly ten years now, and each year he got somehow more eccentric. Some of it - like sorting the fridge alphabetically - was harmless enough. But his insistence that only his 25-year-old toaster could produce edible crumpets had led to a couple of nasty fires. Needless to say, the toaster itself had emerged from them as the lone surviving appliance.
And now this...whatever it was. She couldn't imagine what was going through his mind, but doubted it was heading to some world-changing wisdom. No, the odds were much higher that he thought he was a hungry mouse, which made her yellow dress a touch unfortunate. Who knew Tom & Jerry could have such an influence on a 43-year-old man?
"I've got it! Sophie, Sophie!"
She jumped, then walked slowly towards him, frying pan clutched tight behind her back.
"I've been thinking, if we move this chest of drawers into the bathroom, and this table into our bedroom, we can get another fridge in here."
"Er...why?"
"For the guests! Remember last week when we ran out of Brie and Sue was so disappointed? We'll have a cheese fridge! Nothing but cheese, high quality cheese, any kind they might need!".
She studied his face for a moment to see if he was serious, then improved the view with a well-aimed frying pan.
When he woke up in hospital two hours later, the first thing he saw was a toaster plugged in to the wall nearby...

"Ready! Aim! Fire!"

The shots rang out, and Aldernak slumped against the post. A few feet away from him, Sophie gritted her teeth and awaited her turn.
Then, as the rifles took aim, a voice yelled.

"Cut! CUT!!!"

The director stomped angrily onto the set for the umpteenth time.

"That was all wrong! What the hell's the matter with you people today?! Tom, why is Aldernak still breathing after he's been shot? I can see your chest going up and down, up and down. And Cate - brush your teeth! I can see something small and green stuck to them, and I don't want Sophie's dying speech marred by an errant speck of spinach."

He turned towards the firing squad.

"As for you lot – you useless maggots! Only two of you even pulled the damn trigger! And don't think I didn't notice that one of you said 'Bang!'. Where on earth did we get you people? No, don't answer that - I'm not sure I actually want to know. Incidentally, it's conventional to aim AT the target, not somewhere about six feet above its head. Now...pay attention."

He gestured furiously at Tom to get out of the way, and took his place in front of the post.

"Ok, let's run through how this works. First, the words. At 'Ready', the rifles should be held vertically. At 'Aim', they will point at me in one smooth motion. At 'Fire', you pull the triggers, at which point I will pretend to be dead. The eagle-eyed among you will notice that this does not include conspicuous chest movement. The less aware of you, like our dear friend Tom, had better learn fast."

"Er, the gu-"

"I don't remember asking you to speak. Get ready."

"Bu-"

"One more word and you'll be cleaning out Tom's bathtub. Ok?"

A terrified nod.

"Good. Everyone, take your places. And....go!"

"Ready!"

"Aim!"

"Much better!" said the director.

"Fire!"

Five bullets thudded into the director. He looked stunned for a moment, then gently collapsed on the ground. They all gathered around him.

"Well, you did try and warn him. It's not your fault he hadn't read the script properly. Or the notes on the props."

"Live ammo on a set. No wonder you were hyperventilating after every take, Tom."

"Ah yes, that reminds me...hand me one of those rifles."

"Here you go. Er...where are you going?"

"I'm just curious about how carefully my agent read the script. I'm thinking of re-enacting a scene..."

The Dread Lord Aldernak leaned slightly forward on his throne and glared balefully down at the snivelling servant.

"Is that it?! Just 5000?!"
"Er...yes, Your Unspeakableness."
"Over 10 months of work, and only a measly 5000 souls trapped?"
"But...Your Horribleness...we weren't expecting anywhere near that many."
"I remember different."
"Look, it's all written down in the project objectives, see here on pa-"

There was a sudden blur, then a loud burp. Aldernak grinned evilly at the remaining servants, who shrank back and tried not to meet his eye.

"You! You'll do."

A huge arm shot out and grabbed one of them, lifting the terrified creature up to face height.

"I'm sure you're thrilled at this opportunity to serve your master."
"Y-y-y-y-y-yes, Your Balefulness."
"I want MORE souls, many more."
"Of course, Your Wickedness."
"So...."
"Er...more traps, Your Vileness. Better traps, with better bait. And...and...we'll bring people to them as well!"
"Acceptable...for now. I think a million souls is an appropriate new target, don't you?"

The servant's eyes grew wide.

"Er...er...by when, Your Maleficence?"
"Shall we say six months?"

Huge, blood-red eyes bored into those of the servant.

"Eek! Er...I mean, yes, Your Foulness."
"Now go!"

He released his grip. The new project coordinator fell awkwardly to the ground, scrambled to his feet and dashed off to do his master's bidding. Aldernak watched him leave, smiling maliciously. It wouldn't be long now...


this is my little way of saying : 5000 visitors at last!

Ridiculous.
Utterly ridiculous.
Aldernak glared furiously at the screen one more time, then stood up and began pacing around the room, coffee in hand.
Why was this happening to him? Why now? All these years of ideas appearing from nowhere, and now he had nothing?
No, that wasn't quite true. He had a dozen ideas, all of them now converted into unfinished pieces. On each of them the initial spark of inspiration had fizzled out after a few sentences. Right now one stared out mockingly at him from the screen, daring him to continue.
He needed something new, something a little different. He stopped pacing for a moment and quickly scanned the room, seeking something to spark an idea such as an unusually-shaped shadow or a misread book title. Nothing happened.
Then his gaze was drawn by the flickering lamp-post outside, down to the young woman waiting beneath it, and his world stopped.
She was...breathtaking – he couldn't take his eyes off her. The way the light caught her hair just right, the quiet smile he could see playing on her face, even just the way she stood – perfection.
For a while he stood there motionless, just staring out of the window. Then a car pulled up, she got in, and a moment later she was gone. A moment later Aldernak shook himself free of the spell, and stared down at his cold coffee. He felt different somehow, more alive, as if a light had suddenly shone inside him.
What’s more, he felt like writing again. He had a sudden compulsion to write a story about an angel...

This one feels a bit aimless to me... But I'm hoping to do another one pretty quickly

I stand naked before them, looking down at their smug faces. It had taken months to get this far, but after one last security check this was the final hurdle.

"So, Aldernak, what makes you perfect to be the King's personal attendant?".
"I was bred for it, sir. My parents raised me with this single goal, and I've been training for it all my life".
"The same can be said of hundreds of candidates - what sets you apart?"

I need to play this right.

"My research".
"Your research?! What kind of answer is that?".
"My research...into each of you".

That they didn't like. Now it's their turn to squirm.

"Isn't it weird how the higher up the ladder you get, the darker people's secrets are? And you're both right near the top. Aren't you, Lucius and Postano?".
"What the...how did you know our names?".
"Does it matter, compared to what else I know? I bet the King would be interested in what really happened to his first wife".
"His wife died in a hunting accident".
"Of course she did. Strange how all her companions that day are now dead...".
"Well, these things hap-"
"Except ONE!"

They seem a little shocked...can't imagine why...now for the carrot.

"So...here's my suggestion. You two will right now sign all the papers and recommend me for the job as the King's attendant. After I've been accepted by the King, I'll tell you who escaped and where they are, and you can...clean up any loose ends"

They look briefly at each other, then Lucius speaks.

"We accept. We hope you enjoy a long service with the King".

Damn fool...he'll kill me as soon as he has what he wants. Not that he'll have chance to...

The completed documents now in hand, I stride past the final set of guards and into the Emperor's chambers. There he is at last, partially obscured by a huge array of electronic devices and documents.

He sees me.

"And you are?"
"Aldernak, Your Highness. I will be your new personal attendant, if you deem me acceptable".
"I see..."

He rises from his chair and walks towards me, studying me intently.

"Papers, recommendations?"
"Here, Your Highness".

He reaches for them, and I strike, moving like lightning and biting him on the hand. Before he can cry out, the poison acts and he's dead before he hits the ground.

I focus intently on the body and force the change...now there are two Kings in the chamber. I hurriedly change clothes, then incinerate the body with his concealed lasgun.

Now for the fun bit. Let's try out the voice.

"Guards! Guards!"

Some running feet and four guards appear.

"This supposed attendant just attempted to kill me! Find those two traitors, Lucius and Postano, and have them executed within the hour for letting this would-be murderer through!"

This is going to be fun...

Drifting…
Stuck in a little lifeboat in the middle of the Atlantic with only a wet border collie for company. It wasn’t quite how Aldernak had imagined his cruise turning out, but the moment he’d seen Sideways Sam’s name on the passenger list it was obvious that things probably weren’t going to go well.

Of course, he hadn’t expected things to take quite this turn of events. While the plan had been to try and avoid Sam on what was an extremely large ship, he hadn’t expected that Sam would actually be there looking for him. Being woken at 3am by a bucket of icy water quickly corrected this misconception. Five expletive-filled minutes after that, he’d found himself gagged and being marched at gunpoint to a quiet area outside, where two of the largest men he’d ever seen were waiting with a menacing-looking trunk.
Fortunately, it appeared that it was just Sam’s luggage. Unfortunately, Sam’s luggage included some non-standard holiday additions, such as knuckledusters and an unpleasant-looking machete. He’d donned the knuckledusters and pummelled Aldernak for a few minutes. Then he’d taken the machete, cut away most of Aldernak’s pyjamas and added a few bloody cuts to the arms and legs. Then he’d spoken. “Bye, Aldernak. Put him in the boat, boys”. There had been a sound behind him and then a sharp pain in the head.

That had been several hours ago and his head still hurt. The blindfold was long gone and the cuts had stopped bleeding, but that was the only good news. He had no food or shelter, there wasn’t a ship in sight and a storm was coming. It seemed that he had nothing to do but wait for death or rescue, ideally the second. He lay back and tried to relax, but his mind refused to move away from the one thing that had been puzzling him since he’d regained consciousness.

“Where did the dog come from?”

It was only Garsun's will that kept him going.
Only the sheer bloody-mindedness that had kept him alive while the others perished. While they had screamed their last in that chamber of nightmares, he clung to the last shreds of his sanity even as his body was mutilated.
Finally he’d been declared dead and thrown with the bodies of his comrades into a charnel pit. Bad mistake. He’d forced himself out of that pit, stacking bodies as high as possible and then climbing to safety. Step by painful step he’d climbed those treacherous stairs, aware that any fall would probably kill him, aware that at any moment he might come across the one who had tortured him so. But at last he had reached the top and emerged into the open air, blinking furiously in the daylight.
That had been countless hours ago. All he knew was where to go, back to the place where he and his companions had been caught. One foot in front of the other, every step saw him nearer to his foe.
As the full moon first appeared through the clouds, he finally spotted his destination. Ahead lay a small stone church, seemingly intact except for a half-collapsed roof. A flickering light came from the windows. Garsun struggled towards them and peered cautiously in.
He was there! That cursed monster Aldernak was there! He was hunched over the altar, peering at a book and muttering darkly to himself. He looked somehow...diminished. The huge black cloak that earlier was so full of menace now hung limply on a skeletal figure, and the deadly staff lay seemingly abandoned on the floor a few steps behind Aldernak.
It was now or never. Garsun cautiously made his way to the front of the church and opened the doors. Aldernak stood with his back to him about 50 feet away, unheeding.
Garsun took a few cautious steps forwards. No reaction. Another few, and another and another. He was only a couple of metres away. Suddenly Aldernak started coughing, great painful-sounding coughs which nearly bent him double.
Garsun knelt down and picked a large piece of fallen masonry. Then, just as Aldernak finally stopped coughing and began to turn towards him, Garsun sprang the last few feet and brought the stone down on his foe's head. Aldernak fell to the floor dead, his skull caved in.
At last Garsun could relax. He sank to his knees beside the body, and at that moment he spotted the staff again, almost within reach. So much power in that staff...
He moved towards it and touched it tentatively. Then he froze, as the staff burst into life and energy surged into him. He could feel it burning him from the inside-out, but he couldn't pull back. The staff moved towards him on its own, and before he knew what was happening he was holding it tightly in his hand. As he watched, dark veins erupted on his hand and spread like wildfire all over him. The pain was unbearable, and as the darkness spread to his eyeballs he blacked out.

When he awoke it was daylight again. The pain was gone, but the black veins remained. As did the staff, seemingly permanently clasped in his right hand. He stood up...and there was a voice.
"Good, you survived. Very fortunate for me, no waiting this time. The last one chose a most inconvenient place to die - twenty years I waited before Gremorio showed up. Or Aldernak as you knew him."
"What...are...you?"
"Just a hungry spirit. Name of Aldernak. Now, enough talk, I need souls. While I'm getting souls, you get to live, probably. You'll still die in time, like the last one. No doubt you'll nurture some hope of escape like all your predecessors. Anyway, there's a lovely little village about 10 miles away. Let's get going..."