UMWP #1 Planet of the Apes- New World Order

Its January and it's time for me to drop my first Unique Monthly Writing Project, for the blog. Now these will be monthly post that contain a short story, a portion of a short story or perhaps just a writing project idea. Totally open to critiquing and feedback. It's pretty much the equivalent of a rapper releasing a freestyle in an attempt to keep you interested until he releases a fully completed album. This is basically an exercises to keep my writing sharp and allow you to follow along as my writing style develops and advances.

 This first UMWP I'll admit is cheating in a number of ways, first off it's not a freestyle, I wrote it perhaps 2 years ago, second it's fan fic, or more precisely it's spin off fiction. It's set in the Planet of the Apes Universe, only a few thousand generations apart from any of the movies. Bottom line is I'm a big POA fan and decided to drop a character of my own into the world just to see how either of us would fare. Read it, enjoy it and let's say if I get enough request via the comments, I'll write and release Episode 2.

Enjoy!

Lefty

P.S.- I've also posted this same short story on a writer's community website called http://www.inkpop.com/, let's see how it does.


POA- New World Order

Episode 1: Sweat, Blood and Tears



I woke up with the distinctively irritating feeling of sand in my mouth. Sand and blood, the two formed a horrible combination when mixed, and also an overwhelming feeling of nausea when you had no idea where either of them had come from. I managed to pull myself up to my feet. At a complete lost for where I was, or how I had gotten there, I did the only thing I could think to do, and begin to walk toward the setting sun.

From the inside all deserts look the same. My mind scrambled trying to remember or recall, which one I currently in. The Sahara, the Mojave, the Gobi; was I dropped out of a plane, did I escape from some remote facility, did I just randomly pop out of the sand? I had no history, no memories, nothing. Amnesia in the truest sense, and it sucked. Then again I couldn't even faithfully call it amnesia, as far as I knew 20 minutes ago I didn't even exist. To have amnesia you have to at least have a past, you just don’t remember what it is, but when you've just popped up out of the sand, you don’t have a past. You’re just there.

I checked my person for equipment or even clues as to my identity. Heavy duty standard issue work pants, made from a chemically treated fabric, a cotton polyester blend, tough enough to offer me ample protection from the elements without stifling or restricting my movement. They were apparently designed for such conditions. How I knew this, I had no idea. Perhaps I was a tailor in a past life, either way the pockets were empty and I was still, in a word, clueless. I was wearing a matching jacket made from the same technologically advanced material, and though the heat beamed, I zipped up the jacket. Protection from the sun and sand was more important than a little sweat.

My feet sank deep into the shifting sand with every step. I stumbled, I’m not afraid to admit, over dune after dune with no particular destination in mind.

After walking for what seemed like hours, I could see, what I assumed to be, a group of crudely constructed buildings in the far distance. My excitement grew as the buildings turned out to be actual solid objects and not simply symptoms of my oncoming madness from the extended exposure to the sweltering heat and complete lack of water. I picked up my speed and by the time the falling sun begin to touch the horizon; I was closing in on what looked to be some type of abandoned village in the middle of nowhere. The collision of the Sun and Earth turned the world a brilliant color orange, setting the tone for the ominous showdown that was about to in sue.

By the time I hit the empty village the unbearable heat had done a complete 180 degree turn and had suddenly become mind numbingly cold, the only feeling of consistency was my unwavering thirst, that, and the translucent orange tint that covered everything visible to the naked eye as the sun sank deeper behind the strange planet’s distant curving peak. I entered the ghost town in a frenzy. I stumbled clumsily through the dirt and grit of the small plot of civilization that someone, at some point in time, had probably considered a town. The scene was indeed desolate, to say the least. The air smelled heavily of abandonment, the buildings and city structures showed multiple signs of neglect. It seemed to not have been populated by a living soul in years, perhaps decades, there was no real way for me to know, but in my current state, It was safe to say I didn’t care. Banging on the first door I came across, I began frantically calling out for help and begging some unseen Samaritan for water. Though in my heart, I knew I truly expected no one to answer my call. More than anything I believe I was screaming only to say, once I died, that I did indeed fight desperately for my own survival. Sad I know.

I reached for the door handle of a small shabby hovel of wood and stone, only to find it tightly locked. This surprised me, and against my better judgment a small glimmer of hope sparked from deep within my stomach. If someone thought to lock the door than that meant that that same someone had to be inside. I pressed my face against the smooth wood, it was warm! I heard the sound of shuffling feet on the other side, someone was there!

“Hey!” My voice cracked and trembled as my throat screamed for some type of moisture. “Is anybody there?! I-I was out in the desert; I just need some water, maybe something to eat! I-I-I can pay! Please, I have money!” I lied. I reached into my pockets to find nothing but lint, my main goal was to get that door open, the details, I figured, could be worked out after I avoided dying of thirst, hunger or hypothermia.

I begin to bang even harder. My life depended on it. “Hey! Open this door, are you going to let me freaking die out here! I’m asking you for help”

“Please,” a soft whimper came from the other side of the closed door. “Please go away, we can’t help you.”

“Is someone there?” the sound of another voice calmed by frantic pounding and yelling, it wasn’t until hearing the comfort of another sentient life form that I realized how lonely and afraid I had been, and now, how absolutely crazy I must have sounded. “Please, please, please I understand. I just need some water. I woke up in the desert alone, I’ve been walking for hours, just some water please that’s all I ask then I’ll leave you alone.”

The voice on the other side went quite, the shuffling stopped. Perhaps a few seconds passed without a single sound from the other side of the door. I begin to wonder if I had imagined the shuffling, imagined the voice, I begin to panic, the feeling of dread and loneliness begin to set back in. The only thing worst then dying of thirst and starvation in the middle of nowhere is going insane before dying of thirst and starvation in the middle of nowhere. I began beating on the door again, determined to make the phantom voice appear once again. “Hey! Hey!” I screamed as loud as my voice would allow. “Are you still in there?”

“Please,” the phantom voice returned even softer than before “You have to be quiet, if I give you water do you promise to leave”



“Yes” I responded without hesitation. Hell, at that point I would have agreed to anything, anything for the promise of water and to keep the voice from disappearing again. “I’ll leave, I promise just please, please give me some water.”

“Sister, no!” another voice from behind emerged.

“Be quiet, if he keeps banging and screaming he’ll attract them for sure, this is the only way.”

It wasn’t until I heard the other voice, which sounded distinctly like that of a young boy, that I was able to fully appreciate the gentleness and femininity of the phantom voice. It was a soothing and mellow sound, and for a moment I allowed its rhythmic melody to dance in my mind, focusing more on its beauty, as oppose to the actual words. As it turns out I should have been a lot more focused on the “them” and finding out exactly why they were so hell bent on not “attracting” their attention. Regretfully now I admit, I did not.

Once again the shuffling stopped. The locks on the door began to unlatch themselves, slowly the door crept open, I breathed a sigh of relief, followed quickly and swiftly by a gasp of complete and utter horror.

The door opened slightly only to reveal an Ape standing behind it, slightly peeking out from around the edge of the door. And then, right before I could even let out a girlish scream of absolute terror, it spoke.

“Well, what are you waiting for come in!” She spoke in a horsed whisper. She? It was her, the phantom voice was the ape girl. The room began to spin, maybe it was the sudden drop in temperature, the lack of water, whatever extenuating circumstance that brought me to the twilight zone, but my fragile mind had reached its breaking point, and right before my mind passed into absolute oblivion, I managed to choke out the words

“You’re a monkey.” And with that I begin a face first descent into the hard cold wooden floor of the doorway, and passed out before I hit the ground.

To Be Continued…

It's a New Day! 2012

It's a new year, which means new opportunities , new goals and a whole heap of work to do, both new and old.

Personally I'm excited about it. I have my current project to finish, and then I have two more waiting in the wings to get started, not to mention the long hard road of publishing my currently un finished project.

Whew! Even just thinking about the task ahead is overwhelming, but nothing worth accomplishing is ever easy. (what would be the fun in that.) Nope, it won't be the easy route for me this year, setting some ambitious goals for myself.

First up, finish my current writing project (currently on chapter 19 of a projected 32) by April, and then move into the publishing phase.

Second, immediately upon finishing project 1, start project 2 and finish it by December 2012, (before the world ends) and then submit that to the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Writers Competition.

Third, maintain and grow this blog by posting a unique writing short at least once a month. Aside from that I have a life outside of writing to maintain, like a wife, a job, something else that I have still yet to mention in specifics (Mhuahahahahahahaha) and a lot of Call of Duty Mordern Warefare 3 to play (I'm prestige 1 1, class 25) All in all, it's looking like a good year ahead!

Till next time,

Lefty

P.S. what are some of your writing goals for 2012? Feel free to post them in the comment section.