Very Rough Draft for Prologue and 1st Ch. of a novel I'm working on.

These are the roughest of bones for a story I have planned out. The chapter ends abruptly. The story works in a way that by the end, what began as a messy room ends up very organized, through plenty of shuddering twists, with all questions answered plausibly. I'm currently up to chapter 7 but am only sharing it with close friends and family. If you like this tell me; I'll appreciate your opinion.

The 12



Prologue-

The feeling of confusion and disorientation had become familiar these last few years and yet again the sense of disorder enveloped him.

Ray stood before the towering ediface of what he had heard Them mockingly refer to as Their Olympus. That gargantuan monstrosity they had traveled here from time and again to reign chaos upon human history and wash the minds of the masses with their viral lies of godliness. It had changed. What was once rock and petrification had, with the vanishing population been replaced with vein, flesh and blood. It DID apear to be a mountain once. When they laid claim to be gods of us all. Now the truth burned furiously beneath his brow as he reminded himself of what The Stone had shown him. They laughed at our entire race. Crippling our progress and stunting history tens of thousands of years over. It was an assault upon the very nature of existence. What was worse, they found humor in this.

"Time to bring the hammer down" Ray thought to himself. Indeed, the thought of this final victory brought a smile to his parched and bleeding lips. There were a documented mere thousands of humans left at this point. There would be only hundreds in mere months. It was already over though. He'd been shown how to end this. If ever there was a blasphemy that deserved justice and punishment it was these Things that had preyed on humanity in joy for eons upon eons. So as the now familiar feeling of confusion and displacement washed over him, and the doors of 'Olympus' that were not doors but also ceilings and terraces and ten sided rooms upon rooms enveloped him and invited him into Their realm, he spoke the words aloud.

"Time to bring the fucking hammer down"



Chapter 1 :They who come from the skies:

3 years earlier. Dec. 30th

I. Orange County. CA

Ray woke up at 7 o'clock with the alarms ringing inside his room and inside his skull. His arm had already reflexively flung to the left, slapping his palm against the sleep button until he could find the motor skills to click the alarm function to 'off'. He went to the bathroom in a hung over stuper, vomited into the toilet and brushed his teeth. He then went to his closet to pick out his clothing, quickly returned to the bathroom, threw up and brushed his teeth again. Good, he was fully awake now. He took a swig from the tequila bottle on the dresser to kill off his headache, grabbed his keys and went out the door, down the steps of his apartment and into his car.

He was furious. They had made it into a politicalized, media spectacle of sympathy toward the mentaly ill. This sicko, Jacob Watts, who'd killed his own children and claimed it was an act of God had begged for his attention since the trial began. Of course, he refused. He'd just finished his novel that had ranked number one in the new york times best seller list, had gone to book signings, and now this imbecile was trying to leach off him by feigning delusions that they had to meet. Raymond Hawford was not one to feed the delusions of psychopaths and had his INTEGRETY to keep! Above all things he wanted to keep his work legitamate and now the fucking courts were forcing him to meet with this prick.

So on this beautiful day that he would have rather spent at home, drafting his next book, now was spent in traffic on the way to the clinic to meet with Mr. God Told Me To Kill My Family No. 300,967. He was going to call this guy Abraham, hopefully get a rise out of him. God damn it what a fucking bust.

When he finally arrived at the facility he was in no mood for pleasantries. The stark white washed hospital was a comfort though. No emortion. No overly stimulating distractions to confuse him in his hangover. "Just lead me to him and lets get this bullshit over with". He repeated the phrase to everyone whom greeted him. He wasn't supposed to be working today. A total Clerks scenerio from hell. "Ray you gotta know something" Mont, his best office buddy interrupted his stampede to room 2611 with a pat on the shoulder.

"What's that?" He was so god damned bored already. This Watts freak was ruining his afternoon. What else was there to know?

"A few of the staff have spoken to this guy already and ..." Mont looked pale.

"What is it?" Come on, he tought. Go ahead and tell me you smell alchohal on me.

"I.." He hesitated. He never hesitated. Part of why Ray liked this kid was that he had nerves of steal. "I guess you'll see. He's.." Again? ".. nobody can remember what he sounds like. I don't know how else to put it. He asks for you, and thats all we know. It's hard to explain. When we play back recordings of sessions his voice doesn't show up."

Mont had a good sense of humor, Ray knew this, but he could tell the kid was serious.

"What do you mean you don't know what he sounds like? He spoke in trial, you have those transcriptions"

"We have the written recordings of what he said but it was a closed camera trial. Sure enough, none of the witnesses can recognize him by speech. Most of us didn't even notice at first. It was kind of 'huh' type thing that nobody mentioned untill they reviewed some meetings with him on the security cameras here. People talk to him but on film he's not talking back."

Confusion.

He'd felt it this morning as well. A sense of dread had been trickling through his mind these past few weeks and it was potent today. In the back of his mind. The feeling that something was wrong. Like the onset of a heart attack, a feeling of dread and doom filled him this morning. Confusing him. And now he was confused again. Ray shook it loose.

"Just lead me to him and lets get this bullshit over with"

Room 2611. Ray entered, turned and closed the door. He then turns to Watts, the patient lunatic annoyance sat in a chair in a loose hospital gown, staring serenely out the window.

"So what do you want, Abra-"

"Dr. Raymond Hawford." Watts interrupted. Ray heard him. He swore he heard him, but it was like wind blowing. Impossible to duplicate. Like running water sometimes sounds like conversation. He heard him, but it wasn't a voice at all.

"Yeah, I'm here Mr. Prophet, how's god been?" Ray mocked him but the mockery was beginning to be a weak attempt to hide his unease.

"You will bear witness Dr. Hawford" Watts spoke in that strange voice that was forgotten as soon as the words were heard.

It was only now that Watts turned his gaze from the window to face him and something about the gesture made Ray's steel nerves jump. His heart actually skipped a beat.

"You will bear witness to our arrival"

Ray turned to leave the room, he'd had enough. Unfortunately, when he turned to face the door, confusion and a growing sense of dread was all he found. What he saw made his throat clench and his heart drop to his knees.


II. Africa


Dr. Case stood over the well. Years of seeking and finding and losing and finding again had led him, finally to what he had been searching for. The Stone. By god have mercy it was here.

After much convincing and pleading with the local tribesman he had persuaded them to show him this. His age had much to do with it. They had a respect for the elderly and at a ripe and rather spry for the age of 87, he'd been led to what he sought. They warned him that the cost of this meeting with The Stone could cause him great harm but they also understood the phrase "I've lived a long life and have little left to fear".

So he was lowered into the well. Excitement bloomed in his belly and his pulse raced. A meeting with The Stone! Finaly.

Then, the unexpected. He couldn't recall his name.

What was this? Where was he? Why was it so dark? What was he seeing in the dark? The pitch black?

"It's darker than the darkness" he thought.

The stelagmite stood before him. He was at the bottom of the well but somehow that's all he knew. That he was here with The Stone. That was all. Images blinded him. Visions of people and places and terrible things. All nameless.
The poor man welled with tears of mourning. He wept for knowlege that he was a person once. He wept that he once held form. He wept that he would never have it again. Then, before The Stone, he fell asleep and had no memory to create his dreams.

III. Orange County. CA

A creeping sense of shock washed over Raymond not so much for what he saw, but for what was missing. The door he had entered through less than ten minutes ago had no handle. There was a door, a latch, hinges but no handle. He pawed a bit at the seems of the door, doubting his sight, hoping he could peel the passage open, but to no avail. What was happening here?

Ray turned around and Watts was standing in the middle of the room. Ray didn't hear him move and gasped with suprise.

"You will bear witness to our arrival Dr. Hawford"

"What is this, what did you to to the... my god you're bleeding"

A bright spot of red began to grow and spread from Watt's crotch. It quickly spread down his legs to the right and left and spread much too quickly onto the floor. "Nurse!" Ray screamed at the door, trying to get somebody's attention.

"Bear witness to legacy. The blood is ours. It is all ours" Watts opens his gown and Raymond hears a yell that becomes a scream and it takes him an entire half second to recognize his own voice as the source.

Below Watt's torso were no legs, no hips. Below his belly was nothing but a gushing waterfall of bright crimson oxygenated plasma. It poured across the floor in gallons and crept toward him like thick magma.

"Blood is ours. Bear witness." Watts spoke yet did not.

Ray turned white with terror and then his mind reached the breaking point. As he saw hands much too large to be the hands of men reach up from the pooling blood and heads nearly all teeth and eyes emerge shortly after, he fell unconcious or at least could not permit himself to remember anything there after.

IV. New York

Douglas Kreede stood peering down upon the populace. His eyes bleak and unfocused. His dollars sitting in a safe, in a bank, in many many wallets. He'd just finished dishonering his wedding vows for the third time this week with the newest receptionist and that was two times less with two less women than he was accostumed to. He'd been feeling low as of late, a creeping sensation of worry had weakened him.

His dreams every night this week had been of the same thing. He would stand here, gazing out the window when thousands upon thousands of angels came swooping down from the sky, armed with sword, shield and armor they would swarm the meandering ants below him and begin to kill them all. At first it was the best dream he'd ever had. The implecations of such a scenario would be quite beneficial to a man in his business; but every night? Very strange.

"Why don't you just leave her" the corporate whore inquired.

He sighed. It was this way some times. The cunts wanted his money and thought they could pussy hug him into leaving his wife and letting them take his money. He'd have to fire this one.

He reminded her, "I told you, we stay together for the kids. This is as far as it goes"

"Well what if she found out?" the short sighted slut proposed.

He was wrong about firing this one. He'd have to have her killed. It wouldn't be the eighth time.

He turned and glared at her and she returned his glare. Then she screamed. Douglas chuckled, then she pointed behind him. Douglas turned and looked out the window, the entire horizon was filled with wings and armor. He couldn't believe his eyes. He smiled.

Then, as his dream swept down upon the worthless, shuffling droves below, he wept with joy.

V. California, Orange County

Ray, Mort and 2 security staff stood in front of the monitors in the security office. Each of them intently focused on what they'd already watched twice on the monitor. It was rather anticlimactic.

On the monitor Ray entered the room, closed the door behind him and said "So what do you want, Abra-" paused, then said ""Yeah, I'm here Mr. Prophet, how's god been?". There is a pause, the patient turns to face him and Raymond collapses, hard, onto the floor, followed by a short moment before security comes in and retreives him.

"Maybe he slipped you something somehow, like on the inside door handle. Left some kind of LSD or sedative." Mort suggested.

"We'll have the door analyzed. What did you see in there?" security guy 1 asked.

Ray was damned if he would try to explain it. It was too crazy and there was no point. It didn't happen. Didn't matter. Was he losing his mind? He'd felt strange lately. That dread feeling in the back of his mind no matter what he was doing or thinking. The feeling of confusion and disorientation that followed him everywhere. Maybe he'd get checked out.

"Maybe it's delerium" Mort suggested. Ray winced. "You've been drinking again, Ray. That's nothing new to us but I'm just saying that maybe it's starting to catch up with-"

There was a crashing sound in the hallway.

"What was that?" Security guy 2 changed cameras. What they saw for a moment almost startled Ray to laughter and then all hell broke loose.

On the monitors, the hallways outside were filled with feathers and blood. Screams of the interns were mingled with a sound that was like an entire hurricane being pushed through a narrow alleyway. Then something of great strength slammed against the door. Again, and the wood splintered. Again, and the entrance exploded inward. White feathers swarmed into the room, Ray ducked and heard screams of the security gaurds fill the room. He kept low and a body dropped to his left, it was a gaurd. He couldn't tell which one because the head was missing. Blood gushed from the neck. To his right Mort was ducking next to him. Feathers everywhere, why feathers? Mort pointed to Ray's left and made a pistol with his hand and Ray reached over to take the gaurds gun before rushing out of the room.

Mort and Ray turned left and then around to face the doorway. Ray covered the entrance with the gunand backed up 30 yards but when the thing exited the room they both froze.

What stood before them appeared to be an 8 foot tall giant of a man with skin that was dark blood red, it's muscles rippled beneath its skin, and claws at the ends of it's hands and feet. For it's head there were many teeth like machete blades and one giant eye below a sloped brow and a bald head. High cheekbones rose above it's teeth. The most prominent features were it's large white wings that were folded neatly behind it's back. It faced them for a moment, squinted it's eye in a glare, opened it's jaws nearly a foot wide and let loose the hurricane howl they had heard earlier. Then it opened it's wings as wide as the hallway would allow and with clawed hands outstretched began to charge.

Ray opened fire. The thing was 20 yards from them and closing fast. Ray fired round after round into the beast but it didn't seem effected. They were toast. 8 yards and closing ray fired two more rounds at the beast and it lept at them, fell but 2 feet short, onto it's stomache and fell still.

Mort was pale and sweating. Ray fell to his knees with the pistol gripped in both hands, staring at the dead monster that had appeared with no warning. Then he looked around. Bodies littered the hallway. Old friends and associates, torn to peices. He stared at the giant creature again, it's single dead eye stared back. It's wings fell disheveled over it's muscular torso and legs. Then he dropped the gun, placed his hands on the floor shoulder width apart, faced downward and in an instinctual attempt to purge himself of the madness that had just torn his world to peices, vomited profusely.

------

The 12 watched silently from thier haven in the skies. It was the same here as well. Instill in the weak a sense of dread and assault them with the monsters of their prophecies. Soon the spiritual leaders of the world would be shouting hither and yon of apacolypse, doomsday and punishment for the sins of men. Then, in a short time the weaklings would freely be offering themselves up to Them. The cattle would offer their very life blood as willing sacrifices for belief of a free ticket to heaven.

They smiled, the blood of last harvest had become coagulated and their skin had become scabbous, making them lethargic and hazey. It would be good to feel young again and continue their journey. Then the irony hit them again and together they laughed in rauchous unison, black tears streamed from their eyes, joy filled their ancient hearts and the thought of hunger and rot left them for this short while. It really was too much fun and far too unbelievably humorous.

-------

The thing within Jacob Watts dove through the window and began to run. It had already begun and he had much to do. First he'd travel east, where The Stone had provided him with a more suitable vessel. The mind of this one was sick and he regretted picking it based mearly on it's confidence. The damn mind was deranged and that derangement had impaired his attempt to communicate with Ray. The one to the east, however, was so open and usefull it practicaly screamed for him.

Then he would travel back towards this continent's east coast to meeet with the one given dreams of this day and finish what had to be done with him. Then he'd have to find Ray again. So long as Ray stayed alive and didn't submit to the 12 all would work out in the end. And it was very unlikely that Ray could submit to anything even if he wanted to.

There was still time but not much. All hope was already lost long ago, but if he could stop them here maybe he could help these beings rebuild. It was a slim chance, The 12 had been at this for a long time and were clever clever clever. What else was there to do though? Nothing. Ray could help, the thing within Jacob Watts knew this. Ray could help in ways nobody nobody else could. He just had to show him how simple it was and how he related to it all.

...

A review from my myspace site.

Had the chance to read the rough draft of 'The 12'. Read it on Saturday a couple times and sat with it to marinade over it for a while. The macabre atmosphere was articulated nicely. The realism and modern context was handled in a somewhat surrealist manner which I enjoyed very much. The character introduction and development was strong. The plot and story line was captivating. The religious overtones were not exactly my cup of tea, however it was not preaching to the reader so much and so I did not really mind (it did not take me out of the story). The prologue and the first chapter tied into each other fittingly. All in all it left me wanting to read more. Good job! I am by no means an established literary critic but those are my two cents.

-D

[HumanePain]

I enjoyed reading this, the imagery and style reminded me of The Satanic Verses; surreal as your other critic mentioned. I couldn't stop reading it, you hook the reader right from the start, very important! I think you are on to something here, good luck with it and please share more when you feel ready!

That's friggin awesome. I only shared any of this with my family so far so there was that doubt in my mind that they may be bias. I'm glad to see that other people enjoy it. I'm currently writing out the 8th chapter and should be done with the whole thing by sometime early next year.

A friend of mine wants to review and do some editing then I'll be ready to work on getting it published. Wish me luck!

200+ views and only one review? It's okay to dislike my personality and enjoy my work. HumanePain was honest. Let his confidence rub off on you.

[JCC]

I don't like your tone. The narration will say things like 'Good, he was fully awake now.' It might not be what you intended, but it sounds like your narrator is passing judgment on the actions of the characters or something, and while that could be tying into a plot you've got later down the line, it's pretty irritating.

The whole New York segment annoys me. Two characters materialise out of the blue, a couple of lines of dialogue and suddenly one murders the other. There's been no character progression, what am I meant to feel about it? I don't think he's a bastard, I've only known this corporate whore character for one or two lines, so I'm not really passing judgment on him, but I don't think he's cool either. It just seems pretty ridiculous. It reads a little like a screenplay converted into prose, it's a television-style character introduction, it doesn't translate well and even television would expand on it to give us something to care about.

I feel like you use dialogue far too much and too little description, and that the dialogue you do use can be fairly heinous; "What is this, what did you to to the... my god you're bleeding". That's an awful piece of dialogue, cut it. There are a couple more in there, but this one stands out.

Don't use caps to emphasize something. ALLCAPS is for the lazy writer who doesn't know how to communicate to us that we should see the emphasis or importance of something.

You've got spelling mistakes that really need sorting out.

Don't get disheartened though, I'm telling you all this because I think you can take it and because I think you can write something awesome, I don't waste all this time on just anybody.

[a morbid curiosity]

JCC makes some valid points, but I really liked it actually. I'd disagree about it having too much dialogue. For me, what you really need to work on is evading the cliches. And your use of exclamation marks.

This is all good advice. I agree with a lot of this.

[Hades]

Only read the first few paragraphs, am in a hurry and will read later, but from what i can tell it's not as offputting as JCC made it sound. It is ... admirable that you have not wasted an eternity of useless words on long descriptions, and the story sounded kind of cool, it better have something to do with unnatural forces later on! Not just another... Da Vinci Code or such.
Ah, this paragraph....

"He was furious. They had made it into a politicalized, media spectacle of sympathy toward the mentaly ill. This sicko, Jacob Watts, who'd killed his own children and claimed it was an act of God had begged for his attention since the trial began. Of course, he refused. He'd just finished his novel that had ranked number one in the new york times best seller list, had gone to book signings, and now this imbecile was trying to leach off him by feigning delusions that they had to meet. Raymond Hawford was not one to feed the delusions of psychopaths and had his INTEGRETY to keep! Above all things he wanted to keep his work legitamate and now the fucking courts were forcing him to meet with this prick."

Sounds like you wrote it in 5 mins, very rushed and ... just sounds off, lol. Another important thing - know when to swear. There were a couple of clichés in there but nothing too serious. Other than that, you've got my attention.

I, too, think you're an annoying bastard, but i can appreciate that you seem to have an interesting story going on here... dammit, why do i mostly meet writers that are bastards xD i kind of hope that someday, something big happens to you that will make you more like... i don't know, Jesse Custer.
With that said, good luck on your novel... give Hades some nice entertainment someday.

All of us writers are obnoxious opinionated drunks at heart.

I appreciate the review. Yes it was written rather quickly and then spell checked with very few changes or additions. A lot of the rushed-ness of it is smoothed out a little more in the later copy.

There are unnatural forces at work. Where they come from is covered. Where their power stems from and how it connects with our reality. It all comes together pretty tightly packaged in the end and a lot of what seems to not make sense early on ends up having it's sources. Hopefully I'll be done by the end of next year and can share it.

[Hades]

True, though some more than others, and still it does not mean they are the better writers if you ask me, heh..*cough*Hemingway*cough*

When you're finished, i will be a man and admit i'll quite like to read it :P

[Underwater Ophelia]

Thoughts are italicized, not in quotes.

200+ views and only one review? It's okay to dislike my personality and enjoy my work. HumanePain was honest. Let his confidence rub off on you.

Don't think it actually had anything to do with your personality. Hell the two poetry threads i started got over 380 looks and three comments combined. Two from HumanePain. i like to think i'm liked here...

...then again maybe i'm not...fuck...shit...

...or maybe they just suck. lol

Hmm...anyway, i read the first part when you posted it. Thought it was cool. i was in the midst of other things and posting a reply slipped my mind.

[Hades]

Haha, reason why most people don't reply is because of the overwhelming GIANT BLOCK OF TEXT you offer. Not enough time, can't bother, too lazy, or maybe they do hate you that much there there tekajo, i'm sure that's the case for your poems too... i can read them! Link??