Daily Freewrite - The Island

          Shrouded in mystery, the island off the coast of Darwin's botanical gardens had stimulated our curiosity during our few short days there. Some theorized that a strange magic lay over the island, while others believed that a lost race of gorilla men lay in waiting beneath the primal entanglement of fir trees. Some even believed the ghost of Charles Darwin himself called the island home. "Guys, let's cross over and see what's over there," My friend Anthony suggested. I felt uneasy at the thought of the cursed place, and despite my unfathomable inquisitiveness, abstained from following my comrades. While me, and two others a stayed behind, the group began the trek across the water to, what could possibly be, their end. As I watched them go, a sick feeling took root in my stomach, like a weed slowly overtaking a flower. Darkness fell, and a dense fog settled over the island and I lost all knowledge of their existence. It was time to head back to the lodge, lest I fall victim to whatever I felt was crawling over the forest floor. 

          Hours later, worry found itself in our hearts. We knew something had gone awry but did not know which course of action to take. It was decided that we'd go and find them. Trudging back through the woods in absolute black put me on edge. "The Darwinists might've gotten them," my friend Riley joked. I laughed but I truly suspected that might be the case. I had felt this entire trip that we were slowly being inducted into a cult from which there would be no leaving. The hovels and sculptures of the Darwinists rose up as monuments of human evolution throughout the trees, and would petrify even the bravest man. Luckily my companions and I had the ancients on our side to watch over our travels. No petty witchcraft could touch us. We arrive at the beach just as the fog began to clear. Low and behold, across the water, the men were fighting Darwin's followers. They were trespassing on the resting place of their great leader and had finally met their doom. 

          As I believed them to be lost, a small rowboat seemed to materialize out of thin air. I could not make out the vessels operator, but he appeared to be my friends' saviour. One by one they piled into his boat and escaped the clutches of the extremists. We let out cries of rejoice as they approached the mainland. Their rescuer looked much like Darwin. It was Charles Darwin incarnate! The apparition of Darwin began to speak as soon as all were safely on shore. "My people have deviated from my original teachings and have dishonoured themselves in the principles of Darwinism. They are heretics and will be punished according to the law. And just like that, he was gone. That day will be marked with much wonder in my eyes. I will always remember the spectacle that was THE ISLAND...

Concept Art - Juggernaut-class Warbot

Concept Art - Space Marine

Concept Art - Adven Chronicles - Eldarin and Zorganians

Sketched these up. Two species I've created for my story.

Matt McGuire - The Ghost Inside - Engine 45 - Drum Cover

This man is an animal.

Daily Freewrite - The Church of Marcus Finnis

Our forefathers brought us out of an era of destruction into an enlightened age, my friends. Headed by the great Marcus Finnis, our lord and saviour, the Church rebuilt human civilization as we know it. He will forever look down on us and fill us with hope as humanity enters an age of trials and tribulations. The question now is, what will you do to bring honor and glory to Finnis' legacy? Will you take a place at the vanguard of the Church's interests or take a back seat to it and never share in it's profits. The Church of Marcus Finnis will seek out all pagans and dissidents. We will crush all who deny the power of our lord. So just remember, Finnis's eyes are upon you. You can't run. You can't hide. Why do either when you could be embraced with his loving presence. Your choice. Obey or die. May Marcus Finnis watch over all loyal followers, and crush all disgusting blasphemers.

Propaganda Broadcast, The Church of Marcus Finnis. Circa 2237.

CM

Daily Freewrite - After The Battle

So much carnage, so much destruction. This desolate land was once home to the people of the forest, druids, caretakers of nature. I was the last one. Every one else, was gone. I pulled out my pipe and match. How the Infinite Legion had found us I'll never know. The legion had been driven to madness over their long centuries as slaves to the humans. I can understand why they would have a personal vendetta with the humans but not us. The humans were twisted and evil and they deserved their fate. We, on the other hand, did not. I placed my pipe in my mouth and took a puff. I perched on top of a stone facing out over the battlefield. When the legion came with their war machines and mounted elephant riders, we had little to no hope. They arrived and slaughtered every man, woman and child in their midst. I lead our warriors into battle and hell did we give them a fight. For what seemed like hours, we held our own against the better equipped Legion, and were nearing victory. That was when there leader showed up and began throwing my men about. He broke our host on the field and decimated our archer line. I ran to meet him in single combat and nearly vanquished him. That would have been the end, had the Legion's dragon riders not come. They burned down our forests, turned our village to ash, and drove our livestock from the hills. We had nothing left. The leader fled along with the bulk of his forces. As i cut down my final Legion soldier, I cried out in victory. We had driven them out but the cost had been much too great for I was the sole remaining druid in the entire forest. Now I don't know what to think. What can I do now that all of my people are dead, and my way of life is crushed. Nothing to do but rebuild. Rebuild and repopulate. I need to find survivors or we are a doomed race. I breathed in my last puff of smoke, placed my pipe in my backpack, and leapt into the forest. I couldn't look back. Too much pain, I had to keep it boiled up. I would save it for my revenge. My revenge on the leader, the Legion, the humans even. It was not the druid way, but it was my way.

CM

Daily Freewrite - Legion

The city holds, for now. Though soon it would fall, I did not wish to rush in and secure victory. I wished to relish in this moment, and savour the feelings boiling inside me. This was a glorious day for my kind. The humans have always spat on us, kicked us into the dust, forced us to be their slaves through their twisted magics. I escaped my oppressors long ago and in secret, built up my power. As I grew ever stronger, others of like mind flocked to my side. My Infinite Legion was born. My race would continue to seek retribution for decades as the humans continued to suppress my people's will. My anger and hatred rampaged through the deep places of the world as my legion began making preparations for our vengeance. We were stronger than they were, smarter, more intelligent, ancient compared to their minuscule lifespans. They were but children to us. It has all led to this day. Our might had pounded on the weak defences of their cities, until only their capital remained. The last bastion of human power in the land would be mine, and now they would learn what it was like to be oppressed. My time of savouring was at an end. It was time to finish off the race of man. We would roll over their city like a plague, sickening and devouring all who stood in our path. Now, go forth my brothers. The time of reckoning is at hand. The fall of man is upon us.

CM

Daily Freewrite - Did You Hear the News

Ah what a beautiful day it was today. The sun was out and boy was it hot out. It was Saturday and I was trying to figure out what I was going to do. "Maybe I'll go for a jog, ride my bike, take the dog to the park, or even go visit some friends," I listed to myself. "Or.. I could do all four!" Life was great. As I sipped my coffee, I looked out at the elaborate estate I had built for myself. I owned everything I ever wanted, and I was successful. People knew who I was and wanted to be involved in my life. They loved me. Nothing could ever put an end to my endless happiness. I opened my door to leave and saw something that frightened me to no end. My friend, Edmund was running up to my house, sweat dripping from his brow, and still wearing his pajamas. "Edmund old fellow! What are you doing?" I inquired. "Pete! Pete! The world is ending." "Have you got your wits about you chap?!" I asked, concern in my voice. He ran up panting and continued babbling on about this supposed apocalypse. "Pete, haven't you heard? Turn on your TV, NOW!" I hurried inside and flipped the television on to see something quite disturbing. The news was displaying soldiers fighting in the Middle East. Only, the enemy they were fighting was not a group of terrorists, or insurgents, but a large creature whose sight split my spine and chilled my body. The havoc it was wreaking was unbearable to watch. Innocent bystanders being ripped apart, soldiers being thrown, even military vehicles being tossed over buildings as if they were nothing more than a child's doll. "Oh my god," I said. "Pete, what are we going to do?" Edmund asked. I turned to him to reply, but stopped short at the sound of something coming closer. It sounded like an animal of some kind. "OH NO," I thought. As suddenly as the sound came, my house was bulldozed by a very large organism. Killed instantly, house lost, assets fried. It really was the end of the world. I guess my happiness could be wrecked after all.

CM

Daily Freewrite - The Mark

Finding out my wife was pregnant was the happiest moment of my life. The masters told us it was to be a girl bearing the mark of a saint. The mark of the saint was the greatest mark a newborn child could have. It signified that they would be a shining beacon of hope, to aid humanity in ushering in a new golden age. I was a lowly factory worker and my daughter - MY daughter - was to be someone great. I swear I did not stop smiling all those long 9 months. I was the envy of my peers and was met with glares of admiration everywhere I went. The day had finally arrived. This day was going to go south so fast, and I did not even know it. My wife went into labor and in 8 long hours, gave birth to our baby girl. I held her in my arms. She was the sweetest thing I had ever laid eyes on. Such purity and innocence, unparalleled to anything I had ever known. She was perfect. She was mine. The doctors and I watched with anticipation as her mark began to form. "That doesn't look like the mark of the saint," said one of the doctors. I watched in horror as the unthinkable happened. My baby girl had the blood mark on her forehead. This mark signified that the bearer would commit unspeakable atrocities and unthinkable acts of mass slaughter and genocide. The masters were wrong - dead wrong. She would have to be put down. I cried out in lamentation. I was angry. Angry with the masters, angry with my wife, even angry with God. My beautiful child would become a vessel of maniacal horror, and for that, she couldn't be left alive.

CM

Daily Freewrite - Showdown

It had all come down to this. After all we had been through, Chuck had succumbed to whatever damned affliction was affecting these parts. What was left of Chuck had run rampant across these here plains and burned the grasses to a crisp. Seeing my brother in this state was killing me. I had to put him out of his misery or run the risk of letting him spread the disease to me. "Bill, help me, please!" Chuck shrieked as his clothes were being reduced to ash and his skin cracked and crumbled like bread. "You have to be put down, Chuck, I'm sorry," I replied, fighting back the tears. "After all we've been through, you're going to put me out like this," Chuck yelled in exhausted rage. "You won't do this, Bill. I will kill you!" He drew his pistol and charged me, bones snapping and limbs breaking with each movement. "I'm sorry," I whispered. And with that, a bullet was lodged in Bill's broken head. My name is Bill Daniels, and this was only the beginning to the pandemic known as the skintaker.

CM

Might go somewhere with this, who knows. I know I say that a lot but I kind of like this idea, like a red dead redemption zombie type deal. Keep you posted, Conner out!

Writing Prompt - Life in the Wasteland

I am going to start a writing prompt series for those few who look at this blog. Unlike my disparate freewrites spread out across different days, I will try to post an image prompt once a day. So if you're looking for a source of inspiration of any kind, check here every day.

Tell this guy's story:

Writing Music

So nice.

Daily Freewrite - Plague - Based on Darksiders

I am sickness. I am disease. I am infection. I am Plague. They never wrote about me in their holy book or ancient texts but I have always been there. The other four take the glory. The Five Horsemen of the Apocalypse not the four. That is what they call us. War, Conquest, Famine, Death, and myself.. Plague. We were created from the blood of angels and demons for the one singular purpose of ushering in the end of the world. It is too early. War has moved too early and broken the seven seals prematurely. If what the Council says is true, then War has betrayed us, but I doubt their judgement. This has been orchestrated by a far more sinister and malevolent being than one such as War. I find myself curious as to who that might be. The list of suspects grows ever more. The Destroyer, the angels, an ambitious Demonlord, or even God himself. One thing is for certain: I will find out who. The name of the Five Horsemen must be cleansed. My diseases will wipe out all responsible for tarnishing our name. The malignancy that I will put forth won't leave a heart left beating. My anger will wait in silence within all of our enemies until it bursts. If the humans know nothing of my presence in the Horsemen, they soon will.

NOTE: I'm probably going to continue this as a little FanFic mini series. Got the idea for the fifth horsemen off of a writing prompt on Reddit: http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/24yk18/wp_you_are_the_lesserknown_fifth_horseman_of_the/

Picture credit to Paolo Puggioni via google images.

Horses of the Night Poem - Daily Post

Decided to post a little poem I wrote for an English project with a short story called horses of the night.

They can’t hear

They can’t understand

They can’t comprehend 

All of these tears

My name is Chris

I’m kind of different

I’m miserable because 

I would never be missed

My mind is a wreck

My sanity shattered

No one has bothered

Ever to check

I am in trouble

No one can see

My brain has crumbled

Been reduced to rubble

Now a blight

On what could have been

My life has been taken

By the horses in the night

CM

Chevelle - The Red - My Writing Playlist

I don't know why The Red helps me come up with ideas but it just does. Maybe it will for you.