About This Idea:
Satan’s Alley (Which is definitely not the final title), is my second most recent idea, coming to me from a horrific nightmare that I had one random night a few months ago. I wasn’t looking to work on any new ideas, but the intense feeling this one gave me was too strong to ignore.
The idea quickly grew out of control, developing into plans for a whole fictional world with it’s own lore, and even a language, which I am as of now, 600 words into creating!
Blurb!
A lonely village with a history of tragedy, who’s inhabitants are plagued by eerie events, comes to the attention of Jeneri, a warrior woman who wanders the land with a trusty steed, and a pet goat. What starts out as a small job turns into a weighty responsibility, and soon Jeneri finds her own fate has become tied to this cursed town.
Genre!
I’d say this one is definitely a dark Fantasy and Adventure, with a hint of drama in there too. I would love to say there’s Horror in the story at times too, but I’m nervous to declare that, in case I can’t pull it off!
Musical Inspiration!
Here is the Playlist (Link) for this story!
The themes for the main characters are ‘Just Wanna Be Loved’ by Yves V & Cat Dealers, and ‘Loved You First’ by Krimsonn & Chris Burke feat. JUJ
Language Progress!
As of now, my word count for the language is:
600!
Excerpt!
I actually do have an excerpt for this one, which happens to be the opening scene of the story!
“I’m afraid.”
The whisper could barely be heard over the thunderous fire. Her toes curled around the edge of the hot stone step as she stared down at the violent flames that rampaged around the pit below.
“I’m afraid.”
She turned around to face the man behind her, her statement more resolute this time.
From his spot in the unlit archway, only a sliver of skin could be seen under his robe. He stepped forward, till the fire illuminated his soft face, as his hand crept towards her pregnant stomach. His fingers traced circles along the bump, brushing gently over the fabric that covered her.
She gazed at his eyes, hoping to make contact with them, but it was no use. His stare was focused down at the unborn child, unwavering.
“I’m afraid.”
She tried, one last time.
The moment the murmur reached his ears, before he could hear any more, his hands hardened. His fingers moved from tender, to stiff, stone cold on her body.
He pushed, hard.
She made no noise until she landed, an echoing crack, that repeated in her head, audible over the flames that suffocated her as she lay.
When the echo subsided, the pain replaced it. She wanted to thrash, to flail and writhe the agony away, but the fall had robbed her of movement.
As the man watched on, fingers twitching at his sides, all there was left to do, was scream.
The Worlds Worst Writer (Maybe) 