Dead Again.

Good morning, good morning! I do hope you've been enjoying all the silly little things I've been posting so far! I know I'm having fun sharing them with you.

No backstory for this one, really. These characters may or may not be from my WIP novel Always for Eternity. My muse couldn't make up its mind. But they're fun to play with anyway.

The prompt for this story is: You stumble across an article online detailing a brutal murder. There are pictures of the victim. It's you.

Front Page News -- an original story by Julie Lynn Thorpe (C) 2016

     I stumbled from the bedroom with a groan. I stretched as I made my way through the hall to the living room where my housemate sat, staring at her computer with a frown on her face. I tilted my head as I folded myself into a chair.
     “Something the matter, Mika?”
     Her head shot up and she glared at me. “You haven’t seen the headlines this morning yet, have you?”
     I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Of course not. I just got up, why? Has some horrible thing befallen us all?”
     “Just your brutal murder,” she quipped, spinning the laptop to face me. “You’re front page news in fact.”
     I shared her frown. I gathered the electronic device and set in my lap, scrolling down the page as the cover story did, in fact, detail the gruesome murder of a man fitting my exact description. The photograph they’d taken was a little harder to study – most of it had been blurred in a pitiful attempt to pretend the death wasn’t as violent as they said.
     “That’s you, Vik,” Mika said. “The photo isn’t great, but that’s you. You died last night and yet here you are, in our living room as if nothing’s even happened.”
     “Immortal,” I murmured, studying the details again. She knew that it was something we shared. But it did pose a bit of a problem in the digital age where everything hit the media faster than a person could blink.
     “What are you going to do about it?”
     “Nothing.”
     “Bullshit.”
     I looked up and frowned harder. She was giving me that lovely you’re an idiot if you think you can keep this hidden look. I rolled my eyes and returned to the laptop, looking for other news articles that had covered the same story.
     “Are you going to try the old ‘I have a twin brother’ thing again?” Mika asked. I could feel her gaze on me. “Because that’s not going to work if there’s not a body at the morgue and you know it.”
     I let the insult slip past as I stood and returned the device to her. I wandered back to my room, wondering if I’d returned late last night and crawled into bed or the shower first. There were bloodstains on the floor near the window leading to a pile of ruined clothing on the floor. A quick glance at the bedsheets told me that I had, luckily, remembered to shower before sliding into clean clothing and into bed.
     “So what do you suggest I tell the kind officers who will no doubt find my appearance rather startling?” Turning, I found the young woman standing in my doorway. “After all, I can only do so much with dirty linens. The blood trail leading to my window? The blood in my room? I might as well be considered the murderer as well, Mika. What would you have me tell them?”
     She blinked as she took in the room, heading to the window to make sure there was a blood trail leading to my room. Of course, there would be, I had managed to make quite a mess of my floorboards, why wouldn’t there be a trail to my room?
     “The truth?”
     “You don’t sound very certain of that fact, my dear.”
     “That’s because it’ll make things so much harder on the lot of us, you idiot!” Her tone was snappish, but I couldn’t blame her. “What the hell even happened to you last night?”
     I shrugged, unable to remember much beyond visiting a bar and chatting up a seemingly nice young man. He did seem like a bit of a strange fellow, but I allowed him to buy me a drink anyway.
     “You were drugged at a bar and he killed you.” Mika shook her head in disbelief. “Christ, Vik. One of these days that might actually kill you.”
     “Hardly,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s far more likely that I’ll find my death in the hands of another immortal rather than some strange mortal offering me a bit to drink and dragging me off to my ‘death’. Someone like you, my darling.”
     Mika raised an eyebrow and a ghost of a smile graced her lips briefly. “Well, I’d be the first and most obvious choice after all. Who better than your own housemate, the very one you’ve been living with for centuries?”
     “Precisely.”
     “Well, Vik, you’d better think of something to tell those cops. They’ll be looking for you shortly, I assume. After all, you’re missing from the morgue and you've got a blood trail to your room. Surely they’ve got some questions they’d like answers to. And you better have them.”
     I nodded and made my way back to the living room. “Of course, Mika. Have no worries. And, of course, it’ll be better than the truth.”
     I curled up in my seat again and sipped on my morning coffee. I would come up with a grand story in the end, should they come to my door. But until then, I would just enjoy my morning as I usually did and wait for the next century turn.

I'm a sucker for comments and critics. Let me know what you think down in the comment section below! Thank you for reading!

(If you find you have a desire to share this elsewhere, PLEASE PLEASE let me know first. I have shared it in a couple of places, so I know it's out there already, but for the love of all that is holy, ASK ME to share this. I'll probably give it the okay, but I'd like to know where you're sharing it and if you're going to give me proper credit for it. It is my work after all. Thanks! :3 )

Smile, My Friend, for Death has Come to Visit

So, I made a promise to myself that I would share the good and the bad. And I'm not ovely fond of this particular story, but a promise is a promise. Ugh. Please forgive me in advance. The prompt for this was: "We go to war with a smile on our face because we are friends of Death himself."

Bit of backstory-ish on the main character - one Victor Ragnorock. He's not "my" character per say, but a friend of mine has offered him up to me so often to use in my stories (especially Always for Eternity), so I am quite fond of him and don't mind using him for my "personal gain" (read as: emotional abuse, personal slave, etc. Love Victor anyhow).

He's a lovely character, Victor, one with a wide range of backstories for me to use. However, he is a soldier first and foremost in all of my stories, and in my friend's stories as well. So, this is how he's portrayed most often. War, soldiers, etc. - these are things that I can draw out this particular character.

Smile, We're Friends of Death -- an original work by Julie Lynn Thorpe (C) 2016

     The new boots were nervous as they stared at the veterans who wore smiles and laughed, never mind the fact that a war was happening just outside of the perimeter of tents and vehicles. One even took to frowning as she stared at a few of the older men who were laughing particularly hard at a joke someone had said.
     “Why are they laughing?” She hissed as she glared at them. “Don’t they know there’s a war going on outside?”
     Victor rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder to prevent the inevitable movement forward. He raised an eyebrow as she turned that crystal blue glare on him, but he smirked anyway. She could be intimidating, in her own way, but it wouldn’t do any good out here.
     “Take it easy, new boots,” He raised his voice to be heard to the entire group of new cadets – Only ten? Why didn’t they send more? – “Yes, we are very well aware of the war not too far away from our only little paradise. Trust me, we’d love nothing more than to forget about it, but—.”
     Gunfire echoed from outside the thin walls and for a moment, the whole battalion tensed, waiting to be called into action. When it ceased, a collective inaudible sigh filled the room before the laughter and general merriment resumed.
     “But that’s life, kiddos.” Victor shrugged, motioning the new recruits to follow him through the maze of tents and temporary buildings.
     This wasn’t an assigned job, leading them around and instructing them on where everything was, but it made it easier. Things ran here extremely well and the sooner the new boots understood as much as they could, the better off everyone would be.
     The last place on their “tour” was the infirmary, the one place everyone tended to avoid if they could, even the doctors. He paused a few feet inside the door as the small group gathered around. The frowns they’d lost as they’d wandered returned and a few even looked a bit green. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
     “You’ve seen how we act during our down time,” Victor’s voice was soft, almost gentle now. “How we laugh and play and pretend that the war is something that doesn’t exist beyond the four walls of our shelter.
     “I don’t know what anyone’s told you about going to war with a smile. Yes, it’s a gruesome, bloody, horrible place to be where everyone you loves dies or goes home broken in more ways than you can count.”
     Haunted looks stared back at him and a few of the new boots paled. Feet shuffled and a young man whimpered. Victor turned his gaze to the blue-eyed recruit and smirked humorlessly.
     “We got to war with a smile on our faces because we are friends of Death himself. We do the work that he cannot and in return, we are rewarded with moments of peace where we can laugh and pretend nothing is wrong.
     “We are nothing but the reapers of this world, new boots, smile while you can.”
     He dismissed them and most scurried away, out of the infirmary, possibly off to find their own bolt holes within the compound. Only the woman who’d been angry before now stood before him.
     “How can you still smile even knowing that you’re nothing more than a pawn for Death?” Her voice mirrored his, though he couldn’t be sure if was on purpose. She did seem far more frightened than angry, and at this point, it was to be expected.
     “Because I’m still breathing, recruit. Because one day, Death will come for me too and I, personally, will welcome him with open arms.” Victor chuckled, patting her shoulder. “Best learn to love him, kid. Sometimes, he’s the only friend you’ll get in a place like this.”
     He left her standing there, wandering off to his own bed. She’d understand in time, they all would. Victor chuckled as he shook his head.
     “Much more than a friend you are, Death, old buddy,” he sighed, flopping on his bed with a sigh. “Friend, teacher, lover… They’ll understand one day.”

I'm a sucker for comments and critics. Let me know what you think down in the comment section below! Thank you for reading!

(If you find you have a desire to share this elsewhere, PLEASE PLEASE let me know first. I have shared it in a couple of places, so I know it's out there already, but for the love of all that is holy, ASK ME to share this. I'll probably give it the okay, but I'd like to know where you're sharing it and if you're going to give me proper credit for it. It is my work after all. Thanks! :3 )

30 Day Challenge - Day 18

Day 18: Your beliefs.

Okay, give me a broad topic to ramble/rant about. Sure. Oh boy.

I'm pretty sure I've already done enough about my religious beliefs (Day 4 if you want to reread) though I do have to say this has changed a bit... I believe in a higher power, but I'm not certain it's a "Christian" God. Or if it's not more than one God... I don't know anymore. It's complicated and I'd rather not go there.

I'm actually sort of at a loss for this one. What do you want me to say? Bullets on what I believe?

• I believe that standardized testing is stupid and useless.
• I believe that college should be cheaper, if not free.
• I believe that a college degree should be worth something, but it's not anymore. So many of us have one now, they're almost as good as not having one.

I mean, I could go on and on in that fashion. But I'm not sure if that's what the prompt wants me to do or... I'm not really feeling this one, so I'll just add more to the list below.

• I believe mental illnesses should be taken more seriously and not looked at as something that we should just "get over".
• I believe people should think more about who they're voting for when it comes to presidential candidates. At least more than the surface value... (No, I won't go too far into this.)
• I believe people who are on food stamps should actually need it - same for child support - and use it for it's intended purpose. (Also something I'm not willing to go too far into for a simple blog.)
• I believe that our government could use a lot of work.
• I believe that I am not good at a lot of things, no matter how much people tell me I'm good at something.
• I believe that I write but no one reads. Makes me wonder why I bother.

I think this is meant to be a deeper subject and perhaps I'll try it again when I can fathom it's meaning. Until then... Have whatever this was.

Grey not Gray

So, when I was writing this, I vaguely remembered that I have this GIANT list of writing prompts. Okay, giant is perhaps a bit much, but that hardly matters. It's called 100 Themes Writing Challenge. It's still a huge work in progress, but it's full of fun stuff.

This week's story isn't really based on a "prompt" per say, but rather a fun little ficlet I found on Pinterest (because I find nearly 100% of my prompts there). The link to this can be found here, as a photo, (please, PLEASE, PLEASE let me know if this disappears, I can link it from another source).

The work below, titled "Shades of Grey" has ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with that blasted book series. It was number 34 on the list of 100 (as can be found above), so please don't bother with those sorts of jokes. Besides, this is actually rather sad and a bit depressing. I killed John (sorta).

Shades of Grey - An original work by Julie Lynn Thorpe (C) 2016

     The sky was grey. The clouds were grey. His bloody Belstaff was grey. The man standing next to him was grey, or rather his clothing and hair were grey. The damn stone was grey. It was as if the colour was stolen from the world and it made him sick. He could only pray it didn’t bleed into his mind palace.

     “Lestrade,” he murmured, his deep voice soft with confusion. “What is this?”

     The DI looked over at the tall man huddled in his coat briefly before looking back at the stone in front of them. He sighed and ran a hand through his ever-greying hair. Sherlock now wore the same look that John had when the taller man…

     “He waited every day for you, Sherlock,” Lestrade huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his feet uneasily.

     “It,” The consulting detective paused, sounding choked. “It says John Holmes on the stone. Why?”

     Lestrade laughed.

     It sounded dead.

     It felt dead.

     He felt empty.

     “He loved you, Sherlock. He really did.”

     “Why haven’t you changed your name?”

     Lestrade blinked, reeling slightly from the change of topic. “What?”

     Sherlock’s multifaceted gaze flicked over him. “You and my brother,” another strangled sound. “Sentiment, Lestrade. Surely you two have done something about it now.”

     “That doesn’t matter,” Lestrade hissed. “John is what matters right now, you idiot! And he’s gone.”

     “Obvious!”

     The word shattered the silence, yet pulled in more, something worse than silence.

     “Mycroft did this, Sherlock, changed his name as he was…” Lestrade broke off, dropping his gaze to his shoes. “He signed the paperwork, you two are, were legally wed for a bit.”

     Sherlock whimpered.

     Lestrade said nothing.

     “I can’t hear anything,” he muttered after a moment. “The noise in my head is silent and there’s so much damn grey everywhere.”

     The DI had no reply to that. What do you tell the man who clearly couldn’t see that the man in front of him was utterly smitten with him?

     Nothing.

     “I’m, uh,” Lestrade sighed. “I’m going to visit your brother. You’ll, you’ll be alright here?”

     “I’m fine. It’s fine,” Sherlock huffed, waving at hand at the older man. A clear dismissal. “I just… A few moments, alone, yes.”

     He stood, listening as Lestrade was driven away by one of Mycroft’s minions, leaving him in silence and utterly alone as he stared at the name on the stone. Underneath his birthday and day of death was etched a few lines of sentiment.

     John Watson was beloved by many, loved by few, and cared for only one. He saved many lives while he was alive and we’ll miss him when he’s gone. May God bless his soul.

     “John,” Sherlock shuddered, dropping to his knees. “Damn it, John… Why couldn’t you wait a few more days? I was coming home, John, I was coming home…”

     He stayed that way for hours, hand pressed against the name, letting tears flow freely from his cheeks as the world became grey. Who was he without his blogger?

     The sky had no answer, nor did the stone. And, as he had feared, even the walls of his mind palace had become grey to match the world around him.

     “Goodbye, John…”

I'm a sucker for comments and critics. Let me know what you think down in the comment section below! Thank you for reading!

(If you find you have a desire to share this elsewhere, PLEASE PLEASE let me know first. I have shared it in a couple of places, so I know it's out there already, but for the love of all that is holy, ASK ME to share this. I'll probably give it the okay, but I'd like to know where you're sharing it and if you're going to give me proper credit for it. It is my work after all. Thanks! :3 )

A Sorry Vampire (Sort of)

This week is another full original from me, a sort of 'what if' excerpt from the eternally in progress novel I'm writing called Always for Eternity. One of these days I'll get around to finishing it and stop rewriting it. Making progress on that front, a little, at least.

The prompt for this lovely little piece of work was: Write a scene that begins with "I have nothing to apologize for." So, of course, I thought of my own character, Josiah, who isn't fond of apologizing for things, let alone things that may or may not have been his fault.

Piss Poor Apologies - An original story by Julie Lynn Thorpe (C) 2016

     “I have nothing to apologize for!”
      She blinked at him, surprise flashing across her face before it settled into something darker. He returned her gaze, hands fisted at his side as he tried to keep his anger contained.
     “Nothing to apologize for?” She hissed. “What about fucking up my entire life, hmm? This all started because of you, you idiot!”
     Silence stretched before them for several moments. The Vampire raised his lip in a snarl, debating on whether or not the consequences of his actions would be worth her death. Her actual death, not some mix where she stands on the same edge between worlds as he did.
     “My fault? You think that my bite was what caused your infernal wolf to just show up?” He barked a humorless laugh. “No, my dear. That would have happened anyway, it was simply a matter of time. Sped it up, perhaps, but did not cause this.”
     “Maybe,” she replied. “But I might have been able to live a normal life. One that did not involve you and the two idiots who have been chasing me since the dawn of creation!”
     “Hey!” Victor’s voice rose up from behind her, but she chose to ignore it. Nothing he said would change the fact that they’d been doing to this same old song and dance for far too long. Even he would admit he might have enjoyed a century or two off.
     “No,” The Vampire smirked darkly. “That’s not how it works. Your soul, spirit guide, whatever the hell you’d like to call it, showed up and your fate was sealed, Michaele! The moment you laid eyes on him, you were doomed.”
     “Only because I’d gone home after you’d bitten me!”
     “Shut up, both of you!” Victor glared at both the man and woman. “You don’t know anything, either of you. Yes, Josiah could have started all of this with a simple bite, set the whole damn thing into motion, but we don’t know that. Ioten could have shown up later or maybe even never, but we don’t know that. We don’t know anything at this point. It’s too late to argue what might have been or what could have happened. It’s done.”
     “Hakuna Matata?”
     “Not now, Matthias!” Michaele and Victor spun to yell at the younger man who, despite the angry looks he was receiving, looked quite pleased with himself.
     Josiah snorted. “I get that reference.”
     “Oh, shut up!” Michaele snapped. “Just leave. If you won’t apologize, then I don’t want to see your sorry ass around here anymore. Leave and stay gone.”
     “I have nothing to apologize for!” Josiah hissed but spun on his heel. “But fine, you want me gone, I’ll go. However, this will not be the last you see of me!”
     They watched him leave for several moments before the silence was invaded by Matthias’s soft laughter. Michaele and Victor turned to glare at him again, torn between confusion and anger.
     “If he was a villain in a story, he’d say that. Of course, he would because that’s what they all say when they’re in a mood and don’t think they’re wrong,” the younger man laughed. “Gods, what an idiot! It’s lines like that that bring men like him to their knees!”
     “Oh, shut up, Matti,” Victor groaned.
     Michaele rolled her eyes. “It’s true, though, you’ll have to admit.”
     “Not going there,” Victor huffed. “Nope.”
     Matthias laughed harder, clutching his sides. Victor rolled his eyes. Michaele huffed. This hadn’t gone to plan at all, but it was something. It wasn’t, after all, the last time they’d see him. That was true, perhaps too true.
     “Fucking idiots,” she muttered, turning away. “The lot of you.”

I'm a sucker for comments and critics. Let me know what you think down in the comment section below! Thank you for reading!

(If you find you have a desire to share this elsewhere, PLEASE PLEASE let me know first. I have shared it in a couple of places, so I know it's out there already, but for the love of all that is holy, ASK ME to share this. I'll probably give it the okay, but I'd like to know where you're sharing it and if you're going to give me proper credit for it. It is my work after all. Thanks! :3 )