I decided today to fulfill one of my bucket list items: finish writing a novel. What was meant to be a short novella, is going to be a 50,000 word+ novel. Maybe that’s still a novella? I’m not sure what classifies a novel. Anyway, I’ve joined NaNoWriMo to write 50,000 words in a month so by the end of November, I should have a steaming pile of shit of a novel. Albeit a novel, and my first, but a completed novel.
If anyone would like a sneak preview, you can view some chapters or short chapter excerpts, as I am not sure how I am going to separate the chapters yet, here: Rides to Practice
If you read that, thank you, if not, maybe enjoy this semi-horror story right here:
As the boy crawled toward his inevitable demise, the mangled hand of the creature ebbed closer and closer to the boy’s unsuspecting neck. The gnarled nails first grazed, then dug into the pristine, young flesh of the male so quickly that he scarcely had chance to yell for help before his vocal chords were ripped from his throat. Gore splattered the pavement as the claws continued to tear at the neck of the teenager until it was certain that there wasn’t life left. The creature tossed the body over his shoulder and gently hopped the 20 feet in the air with the lifeless boy slung over his shoulder. Landing upon the roof of a nearby building with the ease of a ballerina, the creature flounced from top to top until he reached the center of the city. The creature glided down upon his wing-like appendages until he reached a lair whereupon he tossed the body. The boy landed with a thud upon some other dried bones picked clean from another night of food scouring. The boy’s jet-black hair fell over his thin-framed face, a look a horror upon his beautiful, golden eyes; staring into eternity. The creature admired the boy’s beauty, from his almond-shaped eyes that harbored that beautiful iris, to the perfect, petite frame with nearly no meat on it. This boy was perfect. This boy was not meant to only eat. No, no. This boy was meant to become.
The creature abhorred his own appearance. From his grizzly, rankled face to his blistering feet. This was his punishment from Circe. This boy was certainly a work of her own hand. Consuming him must bring him some beauty once more. If not, walking in his skin would bring him the satisfaction he desired. The ease with which the creature chewed through the bone and slipped into the boy’s skin can be admired, but not without horror. With the boy’s guise upon him all of the creature’s ugliness was covered. His continuous bubbling reality of puss and the constant bleeding that erupted from the open wounds on his back. The creature was pleased when he looked down at his arms to see the clear, hairless skin of the young Adonis upon his own flesh and was eager to look upon himself in the mirror. When the creature went to look upon himself in the mirror he saw nothing of the boy but only himself through the boy’s skin for as the creature gazed upon himself, Circe caused the skin to melt leaving behind only more pain and suffering for the creature. The creature bloomed two solid tears before bursting the mirror over his head and slitting what was once his neck and ending his life. If only for the end of the evening, for he would be born again in the morning.