Implementor Volgathras Posted April 3, 2013 Implementor Report Share Posted April 3, 2013 This is part of Mali's Collection Fiction Writting Posts, titled 'The Cellar Boys.' ________________________________________________________________ I am going to begin a story here with the intent of co-authoring a story with the FL community. I start with a paragraph and whomever posts next takes it a step farther, and so on and so forth. There are no rules except that there must be story continuity. ********************************************************************* The Cellar Boys Bryce punched the kid again, this time harder, but not hard enough to ruin the fun of it. "Come on Brat, pick it up!" "Yeah... pick it up, if it means that much to you" chimed in another of the pack. The kid reached for the picture of his mother, framed now in cracked wood and broken glass on the lawn before the dorms of South Miskatonic Preparatory School. Someones boot... he could not tell if it was Bryce's this time, came down hard on his fingers. He thought he could feel a bone snap, but the flash of pain was numbed by adrenaline. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Volgathras: I whole-heartedly endorse this idea. Only post if you're adding to the story(ies)! ********************************************************* Tears can unbidden to his eyes. He knew what it meant if the other boys saw them, but they were indifferent to his fears. "Look at him, cryin' for his momma," the thin one said. He ran a hand through greased-back hair. "She ain't here to wipe your *** no more, kid." The three older children sniggered to themselves in self-satisfaction. Gripping fingers tore up grass and dirt in search of the ruined picture frame, curling around the splintered edge and pulling it close. He pressed the aged photo to his chest and curled in to a ball. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Mali: The smell of vulnerability and blood seemed to excite the boys even more. Their jeering became faster and higher, like the yipping of coyotes on the hunt. Bryce look from one boy to the next thoughtfully, considering their next move. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Cephirus: As they approached, ready to pounce on Bryce, the large hands of Headmaster Korin enveloped two of the boys heads and spun them 'round. "I thought I told you boys to git yer arses down into the kitchen and help Marian with the cleaning." Stammering for words, the boys glanced at each other and left Bryce and the headmaster in an instant. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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