Outtake time again

Nope, not what you’re thinking. Nah, real outtake. As in, that sucks ass and it needs to get chucked.

I’m rewriting my nano novel… I don’t even wanna talk about it really ;) It’s late, and I’m sure I’ve done it before, but anyway, the first scene is going… basically for the reason that I’m rewriting in 1st person, and it was written in 3rd, but from a character that won’t have a POV in the new version. But, possibly because I’m a hoarder, and a documenter, I’m shoving it here.


Warmth first. The gentle warmth of the earth as it cradled her. The rich scent of the soil, and the sounds of the tiny creatures living there. Another sound, an intermittent muted roar that she could not register as familiar.

And there was something else. The thing that had awoken her. Feeling. Pain, sorrow, the deep emotion that had called to her. The one who had roused her was nearby, and following instinct alone, she moved to find that being.

She flexed her fingers, her toes, slowly stretching, lengthening her limbs as she unfurled her body from the foetal position. More sounds, the scraping of bone against bone, the soft tearing of decayed cloth.

Opening her eyes, she saw nothing. No light entered her cramped resting place, but she was not alarmed. She thrust one arm directly upward, pushing aside the crumbling shards of wood as she used her hands and feet to dig her way out. Bone crunched beneath her feet and she spared a thought for the man that she had slept beside for she knew not how many years. She could not recall a name, and it did not bother her. There was no feeling there, no emotion, no connection.

Lifting herself easily to the surface, she crawled out of the earth, her fingernails caked with filth and the rotted rags that was all that remained of her clothing falling in strips from her body.

Feeling pressure at her ribs, she poked her fingers through the remnants of fabric that still clung to her. One by one she drew the ancient whalebones out of their crumbling channels and dropped them back down into the narrow tunnel. And then her eyes rested on the large stone monument in front of her. There was the name she did not remember, but she did not linger on that. Only the last year listed. Eighteen Ninety Six. She remembered that. The year she had woken and then slept again, the two events only months apart.

She remembered, but she did not feel. She closed her eyes and let her senses drift, looking for the one who had woken her. All she could feel was that one, the one with the vital and strong emotion. She wanted to go, follow, but she had slept for so long. She lacked vitality.

For the first time she noticed her surroundings. Crumbling graves amongst trees, gently rolling earth and winding paths. She stepped out from under the trees that hung over her grave into an opening and gasped. So much light, garish light in bright colours, and attached to so many buildings, some very large, so tall that she wondered if those who had made them were not trying to reach heaven.

She drifted towards the light, and registered the confusing roaring again, getting louder as she moved closer to the edge of the trees. And then she stepped out from the cover of the trees and saw the source of the sound. More lights, shining out of large noisy machines moving past her at a great speed. She stepped backwards involuntarily, not afraid, but shocked. She wondered how long she had slept, that man had come so far. She wanted to explore, discover.

But she was hungry, and so let her instincts guide her.

There was a girl. Alone and far from the light that seemed so strange in the night.

Innocent human eyes widened in shock as she appeared before the girl, eyes ringed with black in a face whitened with powder. “Jeez,” said the girl, “what happened to you?”

Her fingers picked at the disintegrating fabric that barely covered her form as she appraised the clothing of the human girl. The garment reminded her of the days that men dwelt within stone walls, and she smiled in pleasure. She could feel the life emanating from the warm body, and she reached out for the life, the energy, murmuring words of comfort as she took it.

Yes, it sucks ass, hence gone. Yes, I’m aware whalebone in corsets isn’t the kind of stuff you can pull out, nor is it really bone. I knew this before I wrote it ;)


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