31 May 2023, Week 3: Overcoming obstacles

WARNING: The following chapters have descriptions of giant spiders, evil robots, and evil robots being destroyed. Viewer description is advised. CHAPTER ELEVEN: DARKNESS FALLS “Let me out. Let me ouuut!” Wailed Wilbur, slightly muffled inside the tree. The tree had made a cage of sorts around him, and all he could see was pitch black. A nearby voice began cackling its head off. It was very robotic and stiff, and made Wilbur shiver. Mustering up all his courage, Wilbur yelled, “Show yourself!” The branches parted slightly with a creak, and light streamed into Wilbur’s little room. A horrible, metal skeleton with wires crisscrossing all over it poked its head through one of the cracks and leered at Wilbur. It twitched and gave sparks randomly, as if it was malfunctioning and completely unstable. “I didn’t realise that capturing you would be so easy.” It said monotonously without moving its mouth. Wilbur lurched back and started trying to wriggle through the gaps of the tree-cage. He succeeded. The metal skeleton watched Wilbur run away and sighed. “What a shame. I was hoping more of a challenge. But no, you are just a pathetic, grotty child.” It made a ...

** Note - week 2 writing task also included here, as this wasn't uploaded last fortnight. CHAPTER 2 THE WORLD OF PANTYLOONY It was nothing like I had ever seen. I was confronted with a wide, open space that looked like it went on forever. It was coloured a deep amethyst and a brilliant shade of aquamarine. All the bushes and trees were shaped like irregular dodecagons. (That’s a twelve-sided shape, by the way.) Well, I think they were bushes. I couldn’t be sure. I could hear a LOT of crashing, honking and banging and could smell the smell of burnt undies. I suddenly let out a huge scream of fear: AARRGGHH!! A huge tabby cat had confronted me, its sharp, yellow eyes fixated on my face. I immediately recognised the feral animal: It was Fatty, the school’s cat. “N…nice Fatty…” I whispered nervously. “There’s no need to be scared, mate!” said a voice that sounded a lot like it was coming from Fatty. I was absolutely stunned. The school cat COULD TALK??!! 6F, the class next to mine was looking after him this week. I walked past him every 2 ½ hours! HOW THE HECK DID I NOT KNOW THAT HE COULD TALK????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fatty was a large, tabby cat with bright ...

Week 3: Overcoming Obstacles How beautiful it all was, so majestic, so magical. Until they passed the bend in the road. The forest was cut, the grass was dead, the little town had a rolling head. Ancria was in no better shape than Mothdroth. Further along the dismal road, laced with rot and filth, Barg and the scribe came to the river Armanthir. The rushing water had carved itself into the earth, 500 metres down to a sharp, wet doom. There used to be a bridge. The bridge was no more. "Ohh m - my," stuttered the scribe, "Ancria has seen better daays," "What's wrong?" said Barg. "Even th -the bridge has fallen," The scribe didn't say any more. They took a path along the river, always wary of the fall, high jagged stone peaks shadowing them all. Then a claw. A great beast with claws the length of mountains and teeth as jagged as the cold, hard rocks of the river lashed out at them from the shadows. It jumped the craggly old scribe and barely missed his fragile head with a fatal blow. Barg slashed at the terror with his sword, and the beast backed off a little. He picked up the scribe and ran, ran as fast as he had ever run before, away from the monster of the ...

They had been wandering through the desert for what seemed like an eternity. Even the melancholy keening of the wind had blown itself out and was nothing but a lamenting sigh. Umbrielle struggled to keep her attention focused. Anything could be a threat, but the endless sharp rocks and beige sand made it difficult to focus. After what might as well have been a thousand years in their eternal, interminable wandering, a dark shape resolved itself on the horizon. As it came into view, her eyes and brain struggled to come to terms with what she was seeing. Surely, surely, there was no way something so huge could be… “The Claudian Wall,” TItus murmured. It was so tall, it seemed to touch the heavens. It was so wide, Umbrielle couldn’t see the end of it in either direction. It seemed almost insurmountable. Appius froze. “It isn’t Iunius third, is it?” “I think it is,” his brother replied, “why?” “Because… that was the day Papa wanted all the wall guards withdrawn to the northern frontier.” Titus cursed. “Who will unlock the gate for us then?” “I will,” Umbrielle replied. “But you see, only our father has the key.” Titus pointed out. Umbrielle rolled her eyes and pulled ...

Do not come after me. Because death awaits you in this world. The nib of the pen scratched against the parchment as I spent my last moments at the writing desk. “Quintalline, stop fretting!” The little glass man had been pacing the shelves for days after the news of my awaiting end. “Your new master will be just as good! So long you do your job properly!” Quintalline grumbled over his shoulder as he climbed up the desk to scatter some sand onto the fresh ink. “They definitely won’t feed me enough!" With a mutter he settled into sleep, his glass joints clicking with a crystalline ring. I stretched my arms and relished the last night I would have. Steadily, I creased the letter into a small crane and whispered a few words under my breath. A tear began to appear in the air, the seams ripping to create a portal. “I hope you get this in time.” With my last wishes said, I gently pushed the crane into the wormhole and waited for my end. She waited. She waited every single day for him to come back. To hear the sound of the doorbell ringing. To see the large stack of books he always took back for her. To feel his embrace again. But he didn’t come. Cora picked on others. She ...

The sharp blinding light searing through my house. A pale figure grabbing, twisting and a scream. The water hit my skin like bullets as I sat all alone in the rain on my seventh birthday. The slam of the door still lingered in the air, the echo filling the room. Through the small circular window, I admired the picturesque view of the sea. The lighthouse stood at the edge of the rocks, faded red and white painted onto the cylindrical building. The small beam of light shining from the light house reflected off the water. I turned my back onto the view too hurt to look at the sight. My room was on the highest floor making it freezing in winter. The drafts howled against the slate roof, and at night the wind hollered against the closed shutters. My window was the smallest of all of them in the shop. The pensmith workshop had wide double-glass windows that showed a beautiful view of all the Christmas stalls. Coloured lights were twined all over the street lamps and people were getting ready for Christmas by making fruit cakes, treacle puddings and hams. The workshop was the one place I wasn't allowed in but of course, I didn't care about that. On the morning of Christmas ...

I glanced at a nearby bush as slowly its color began to fade away from its leaves. In the blink of an eye, it had turned a dull shade of gray. “Who’s doing this? And what do I have to do with it?” I grumbled. “An evil witch has been gathering ‘color draining balls’ that can get rid of any color it touches. Even Kippies. And Sparkle Land controls all the color on Earth. So if the color in Sparkle Land is gone, all the color on Earth would be gone too! I’d be pretty devastated if I were you.” Bella explained. Before I could answer her a strange figure appeared out of nowhere! Two pointy horns sprouted out of its head along its scaly skin bearing sharp claws on the tip of its fingers! Reaching into its bag it yanked out a smoking black ball and threw it at a tree. Immediately, it had turned a horrifying shade of black! I realised that those must have been the ‘color draining balls’ Bella was talking about. These balls could make lots of Kippies sad. I mean, I don’t care! Do I? “Um… Bella, who is that?” I asked. “That's the witch’s assistant, Morbumconnoritcallifrajour.” Bella replied. “What? How do you say it?” I whined. Bella repeated it exactly as it was. Bella motioned ...

Week 2: Through the Door Ashley wasn’t sure what to do so she sat down looked at Chris. “What are you doing in my realm if you can have whatever you want in yours?” Ashley said, breaking the silence. “I came to find someone who could help me.” Chris looked up at her with big eyes. “Help you with what?” Ashley said. “I’m trying to save our realms.” Chris responded, hoping that Ashley would offer to help. “From what?” Ashley sounded irritated. “From my world destroying both of them!” Chris, for the first time, was annoyed with Ashley. He started to wonder whether Ashley was suited to join him on his quest. He wondered if anyone on Earth would even be interested. ‘Haven’t you noticed your planet deteriorating!’ he screamed inside his head however he proceeded with patience.“Everyone from my planet keeps on creating good and nice things which means slowly your planet is getting worse and worse. Eventually Earth will be uninhabitable.” Chris was looking very serious. “Will you help me?” Ashley’s eyes widened. “I think I need a minute.” She walked slowly away past the door and into the dense forest, then sat against an old oak tree and thought. “If I go, my parents will come ...

Week 2: Through the Door The scribe stumbled over the jagged rocks to colossal crack in the towering gate. “Millennia have worn thiss placce down,” he croaked, stumbling through the crack. Calling it a crack doesn’t do it justice, it was the size of a large cave system, so massive it could fit an army. The gate hadn’t stopped intruders in centuries. Barg followed. Once the pair made it to the other side, chaos ensued. A confusing rush of clanging metal and flickering fire, lighting up the great tunnel with a dazzling light that blinds. Shouting, crashing and urgent footsteps echoed through the empty mountain. The great guards of almighty Ancria fled, the stench of Barg assaulting they’re terrorised nostrils. Archer windows, blockades and towers emptied in the blink of an eye. They walked. At first there was some light, some sound, something to ground them. But as the last guards, deeper in the tunnel, fled, it was just Barg, the scribe, and the dark. Time was meaningless, space incomprehensible. Days were years and weeks were hours, the dark ever unforgiving. If you lost your sense of direction you would be sent back to the start. After a day, a month, maybe even a ...

‘We’re here,’ he said. ‘The Mines of Mildiana. Dwarf kingdom.’ They were staring at a gaping hole in the cliff they had been headed for. It looked like a crack in the skin of rock. A chasm. ‘Well,’ what are you waiting for?’ Arkenstein said. ‘Come on, let’s go!’ Declan shook himself out of his stupor, and followed Arkenstein into the fissure. Arkenstein lit a lantern, and walked through the small passageway behind the fissure. Declan followed him. Soon, they started seeing bones. Entire Snakehead skeletons, stuck between axes, dead in pits, Even suffocated in sand. Declan started feeling like they weren’t exactly wanted here. As they passed a particularly grisly scene with two decomposing Snakeheads stuck between pillars of rock, Arkenstein stopped again. ‘No more Snakeheads,’ Arkenstein said. ‘Get ready for traps.’ They walked slowly forward, Arkenstein looking forward at the ground, at the walls, at the ceiling. Then, he stopped. ‘Pit. Right in front of us. Too wide to jump,’ he said. ‘What will we do?’ Declan asked. Then he quickly added, ‘idiot.’ ‘Well, traps are made to be fallen into,’ Arkenstein shrugged. ‘I think the Dwarves want us to starve to death, more’s ...