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tell me whatcha think - they aren't fan fics or anyth but sum plots just might sound familiar...


It had been days since he had been left behind. The sun blazed high up in the azure sky, roasting every single being in the desert. There was nothing but a pristine, undulating blanket of sand as far as the eye could see. Not a single plant, not a single drop of water, not a single footprint.
His thirst had overpowered everything in him – his thoughts, his mind and his body. He stumbled along, searching desperately for water. He was not aware of the fact that he was talking to himself, but it did not really matter – all that really came out of his mouth was a string of unintelligible, incoherent words. Ha was nothing but a living corpse, driven by its unbearable thirst, stumbling across the sand. When the heat became too much for him to bear, he let his body fall onto the sand and lay there, letting his mind go blank and his body go limp.

After what seemed like an eternity, he turned his head towards his right, away from the glaring sun. The heat wave was distorting the sand dunes around him, making it seem as if they were moving in a non-existent wind. Then, in the far distance, something caught his eye.

Realisation dawned slowly in his eyes as his mind sluggishly registered what it was – a pool of water, smack in the middle of the nothingness of the desert!!

He ran his dry tongue over his parched lips, wincing at the raspy sound produced. Then, bracing himself, he dug his fingers into the fine sand and painstakingly dragged his body towards the water, towards salvation. The puddle seemed to move further away with every inch he moved, making his desire to feel it’s cool trickle down his hot throat heighten to a delirious pitch. His movements became even more frenzied as he neared the puddle.

Then, for a heart-stopping moment, the puddle disappeared from his view. The man stared at the spot with incredible disbelief. His eyes widened and his face blanched with utmost horror as reality struck him – it had been a mirage!!

Anger spread throughout his body like a cold liquid, numbing his senses. An uncontrollable scream of outrage tore out of him, piercing the heavy stupor of the desert atmosphere. He had been tricked!!! There had been no water, no salvation, nothing!! The realisation had wrung out every single drop of hop in him. He gave up and lay on the sand, defeated. There was nothing left for him to do anymore, nothing left for him. He slowly closed his eyes.

Two days later, the search party arrived. They had been searching for the man who had gotten left behind for more than a week, combing the desert land inch by inch. They had found him too late. He lay spread-eagled, baked from the heat of the sun, skin shrivelled from the combination o the heat and the lack of water.

“Severe dehydration.” sighed one of the rescue workers, shaking his head with regret.

Review: the flow of your words are beautiful, i can see it all clearly. since i didn't know who this man is, i just pictured drew fuller playing him...*giggles* although it's sad image. good work!

that was great!!!!

*bows* thank you!! i prefer to keep some of my characters with no names
ive got a few more coming up soon...i'm kinda trying to get some published in a compilation so i need opinions....

here's one entitled Cats.


She crouched low, holding onto the wall for support, and tried her best to blend in with the night’s shadows. Her shirt was drenched with perspiration, and her clothes were slashed open in numerous places. Angry red gashes could be seen in these openings, and they were still fresh. The bite on the arm throbbed with pain. She tried to breathe as softly as she could, but she was pretty sure they could sniff her out with their acute sense of smell anyway.

They – the cats. She had been stuck with them in that nuclear plant for three whole, agonising days. The radiation from the plant had done something to them over the years – they had mutated, somehow. These cats were not like the adorable ones in her neighbourhood. They were vicious, with yellow eyes and razor sharp teeth. Most of their fur had dropped off then, making the girl shudder with repulsion whenever she saw them.

She knew that the cats would come for her sooner or later. There was an exit in the next room, leading out if the plant, out of the cats’ sanctuary. For some reason, they could not get out of the plant and stay alive – she figured it must have had something to do with the air.

She crawled her way to the door leading to that room, taking cover behind a desk. Then, she saw them. They prowled stealthily out from the shadows, like a pack of lionesses closing in on their prey. Their yellow eyes where gleaming menacingly, and their lips were pulled back in sneers, revealing their jagged teeth. She was trapped.

Her first instinct was to run away from the door. The sane, calm part of her told her that it would be of no use, that was what the cats where banking on. For that way, she would be back to square one – and the cats would have won once again. She was no match to these cats in terms of weapons – they had their claws and teeth, she, nothing. These cats had to be outwitted, they had to be taken by surprise. There was only one thing to do. She grit her teeth with grim determination and stood up slowly, deliberately, facing the door.

The cats stood at attention, muscles tense, backs arched, ready to drive her away from the door. Then, simultaneously, they charged. And the girl sprinted –right towards the cats.

The element of surprise was on her side –the cats staggered back, hesitating for just a few moments, giving her the opening she so desperately needed. She bolted for the door.

Some cats regained their senses and attacked her, tearing at every inch of the skin on her legs, mauling her ferociously. She kept going. The door to freedom was but a few meters away. She put on a final spurt of speed, shaking a cat off her arm. And with that final surge of energy, she flew all the way towards the door – and through it.

She was free!!! Exhilaration took over terror and determination, and she slumped heavily onto the floor with exhaustion. The cats were yowling and shrieking with indignation at their prey’s escape. The looked absolutely helpless from the other side if the door. They could not harm her in anyway anymore. She was free!!!!!

good but kinda wierd... but only the plot was wierd of course

i dunno where the plot came frm tho and it's cinsidered quite mild compared to some others ive written

lol... you should post the others

I had been told the house was haunted, and a few people had confirmed it but me and my friends didn't care, we were going to get to the bottom of it. Literally the bottom, the large house, had two floors, and a basement, and an attic. We had been told that the floors and attic had been searched, but the basement was the worst, no one could stay down there, they were frightened our of their minds. A couple we had visited at the mental hospital had actually lived there for a few weeks, but went crazy. So me and my buds decided what the hell, lets go what's going down at this crazy house.

"So, Wes," my closest friend Zack said, "What do you think?"
I stopped, we had walked down winding dirt road, and now we confronted with the monstrous house.
"Well," I grinned, looked the house over, and turned back to face all my friends, "I think we should all just stay together, and get to the basement and check out whats down there, no need to linger about. Besides," I looked back at Zack, his half-eyed gaze, he was waiting for something sarcastic to come out of my mouth, "If we die, we'll be in good company."
That seemed to lighten the mood. Zack stayed beside me as we marched up the six steps to the porch. There were two windows on each side of the rather small door, when compared to the rest of the house. My friend Don ran up to my other side, "Sorry, guys, I had to convince my girlfriend that I wasn't really going to a strip club."
"Its alright man," we shook hands, "Glad you could make it though."
"Here we go," I reached for doorknob, and turned back to check our numbers.
Zack was on my right, Don on my left, Jason, Ben and CJ all cousins, were directly behind me. The door creaked open, as I stepped in, the moldy dusty smell nearly overwhelmed me, but it was tolerable after a few seconds, I stepped into the large "greeting room", as I was told it had been called. The house was huge, but not really a mansion.
"Booo, he, he he hahahaha," Don howled, trying to be scary, and funny at the same time, it worked, the rest of us cracked a small laugh. It was getting dark, I pulled my small, yet powerful flashlight out. I flicked it on and turned to the right, Zack was already inspecting the floor.
"Whatcha got over there, Z?"
"Well, I noticed this hole," he was shining his flashlight down into small hole in the floor, "And if we could see the basement from here, I thought it would help, give us a sneak peek, you know?"
I had noticed Don turning to the doorway on the left, and heard him as he said "Guys, come look at this!"
His voice echoed through empty house, and the rest hurried over. He was shining his light into an upper corner.
"Watch," He whispered, he moved the light away, and form appeared to fill up the corner, the rest of our lights gave enough light, but it wasn't direct. Then he moved his beam back toward the corner, and there was nothing there.
"That's strange," but it wasn't anything to get my nerves going. I stepped closer to the window, looking up at the corner, "Turn your lights off."
Everyone did so, wanting to see what I had up my sleeve, I pulled a ball of string out of one of my cargo pockets. From dimming light outside everyone could still see what I was doing. I tossed up at the darkened form in the corner. I timed it so that as the ball hit the corner I would shine my light there. I timed it very well, as the ball hit the wall, I shined my light at it. The ball appeared to stick in the corner of the walls and ceiling.
"And that is even more strange," I said.

Good job!

that's good!!!
and ok i'll post the rest - but ive gotta think abt the one i called "Pain" tho that was reaallyy disturbing i must hv sumth wrong wif me to be capable of somin up with those kinda plot

Oh goody...

oook...here's another one...i dun quite think i did a gd job on it tho...in fact i think this one kinda sucks - prob one of the worse ones ive written....so here goes...

The train was hurtling along at full speed. Chaos had erupted within its carriages. I stood at the entrance of the first carriage in silence.

“What do you mean, the brakes have been disconnected? What have you done? Are you trying to get us all killed?!” a man roared at me. I hung my head. It was no use explaining to them that the brakes had nothing to do with me. I did not know who had done it either. It was a mystery. However, something had to be done – there were at least a hundred civilians on board, and as the head, their lives were all in my hands!! I pondered, wrecking my brain for an answer. I came up with nothing.

Slowly, I looked up, catching Claire’s gaze. She knew what had to be done. Her eyes widened slowly, with horror, as she realised what I was thinking of.

“No you can’t!! There must be another way!! It’s too dangerous – we’re going too fast!!!” she protested wildly. I held her gaze resolutely. Nothing was going to change my mind – a hundred lives were at stake!! Finally, she gave in.

“Climb up the last carriage. The lid is on the roof. You’ll have to cut the red and yellow cables with pliers” she said quietly, handing me a pair of heavyweight pliers. I took them silently and started walking away. “Please – be careful!!” she called out after me, a note of urgency in her voice.

At the last carriage, I opened the door leading to the end of the train. The sight of the scenery flying by took me by surprise, and for a moment, my determination faltered. I knew I had to go on with it, however. A hundred lives where at stake – including children’s lives!!!

I gripped the wall of the carriage, pliers jammed in my mouth, and hung on for a moment, plucking up every drop of courage I had. Then, I started the endless climb upwards.

The wind was gushing about my ears, making an almost eerie howling noise. It took a tremendous amount of effort to move against it.

Just as I was about to reach the second ring from the top, I slipped.

For one agonising moment, I was sure death was inevitable. My heart pounded within my chest, and I let out a cry of despair. Mo, I could NOT die!!!!

Then, due to pure reflex, I reached out for something to grab on to. My right hand hooked onto a rung lower down the ladder. Thank goodness!! I hung there, filled with relief and immense gratitude, while the trees and plants flew by and the wind tore at my shirt and hair. After I had regained my composure, I resumed my climb.

At the last rung, I used every bit of strength I had and pulled myself over the edge. I slithered along the roof to the lid, slowly, deliberately. I was definitely not keen on taking a wrong step or losing my footing! For at this point of time, the train was crossing a particularly long bridge – stretched across a torrential river!

At long last, I reached the lid. I wrenched it open, cut the wires with all my might, and immediately clung on for dear life. The train let out a deafening screech and came to an abrupt stop, its wheels smoking slightly from the huge amount of friction. I was thrown forward at the impact, but my firm hold ensured my safety.

I took a moment to catch my breath. From inside the train, I could hear screams of joy and absolute relief erupting at an alarming volume. The full realisation of what I had done hit me. My face lit up in a huge smile. I stood up of the roof and let out an ear-piercing scream of triumph – I HAD SUCCEEDED!!!!

heck its not that bad! i've definitely read worse, but it gives what could be a boring scene plenty of action! which is a definitely plus!

thank you!!

good stories bloomi ....*sigh* you'll never read that comment, will you

i did
i realise ive been neglecting this thread!!!
*mental note* - put up a new story by tonight"

this one's called "Pain" and ive NO idea why the plot appeared in my mind...it's kinda sick.... but it flowed nevertheless and forced itself to be written. ........

It had been days since his rations had run out. He lay there, under the oppressive heat of the sun, too weak to move. His ankle pulsated with undying pain, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind.

He could barely remember his name. His life as a lawyer, with a loving wife and an adorable daughter, was a mere memory, quickly fading away. All he knew was the insufferable pain, the agony in his ankle, his stomach, his head, all over him.

There were no animals on the island. None that he had seen, anyway. He had survived, so far, on food from the wreckage. The storm had tossed him and his boat mercilessly onto the rocks surrounding the island, shattering both the boat and his ankle. For a whole day he had lain there, unable to move. His ankle had swollen to twice its size. Finally, pangs of hunger had driven him into rummaging the wreckage for food. Each time he had put some weight on his pulverised ankle, it had roared out in anguish. Still, he had needed the food. He had grit his teeth and bore it as much as he could. Even bandaging the ankle with his shirt had not helped him much.

The rations were not enough though. They had lasted just for a short while. Fortunately, the stream he had found had quenched his thirst and kept him from dehydrating.

He heard a screech on his left side and painfully turned his head in its direction. At first, he thought he was hallucinating. Then, as the bird screeched again and cocked its head curiously in his direction, he knew, it was real. Saliva dribbled down his chin as he half-crawled, half-dragged himself towards his next meal. The bird, taking notice of this, flew back a few feet. “NO!” his mind shrieked. He could not afford to let his food get away! Ignoring his body’s outraged protests, he stood up and began to run unsteadily after it. The bird took to his wings and led him in a wild goose chase, staying just out of his reach, taunting him, taking a fiendish delight in making his body suffer. He gave up after a while, and crumpled onto the ground, defeated. He went through a sudden spasm of searing stomach cramps, and wished for death, which, of course, would not come. Just then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw hope.

It came in the form of a cave. A small, rocky cave, in the middle of nowhere. Shelter! Painstakingly, he used his hands to drag his body into the cave.

His mind slowly registered the contents of the cave. There was a rank, putrid smell hanging in the musty air. With slow astonishment, his mind registered rusty tin cans strewn around the rocky ground. Right at the end of the cave, propped up against the wall, he saw, with utmost horror, a skeleton, clothed in rags which had not completely disintegrated yet. Flies were circling it, and the ground around it was stained with something, which looked horribly like blood. A Swiss Army knife lay on its bony palm, its blade encrusted with blood. There was something carved on the wall next to the skeleton. The man slowly got up to read it, wincing at the sudden jab of pain which coursed through his body. His eyes opened wide with terror as he read that one word – “Kamikaze”.

He slumped onto the ground, feeling helpless. He was going to end up like that too, he realised. Dead. He needed food, he’d moved to far from the stream and he could not bear the excruciating pain in his ankle anymore. His head throbbed from the heat and his stomach was on fire. He needed food, or he would definitely face death.

The man noticed a cut on his palm, with blood oozing out of the wound. Out of habit, he started sucking on it. The blood had a warm, coppery taste he had never noticed before. Pretty soon, he was not sucking the wound just to stop the flow of blood. He was actually enjoying the taste……

Something clicked in his mind. He slowly looked at the penknife in the skeleton’s hand. His mind and body were at war.

“Do it,” his mind said, “you have to live somehow. There’s no other way.! You need food! If you ever get rescued, they can fix you up – the medical world is full of miracles!”

“No!!” his body cried, “please, I can’t take it anymore! The pain, oh please, the agony!”

His mind won in the end - it always did. He painfully reached out for the knife. Slowly, he slid it into his left thigh. The world exploded in red-hot pain as warm blood spurted over his hand and onto the floor. “Kamikaze”, he whispered hoarsely. Bracing himself, he sliced off another piece from his thigh. The pain intensified, reaching such a delirious pitch that he retched. Then, he looked at the piece in his bloodstained hands.

“Do it,” his mind said, “look, it’s just a piece of chicken, it’s just a piece of succulent chicken, don’t think about it, just do it.”

A wave of nausea splashed over him, but he willed it down. It’s just chicken, just chicken, he thought. As he slowly closed his eyes and brought the piece up to his mouth.

You sick pervert you

This is my made up story I wrote

"Nobody cares about me, Mister Bunny," Willow moaned, flopping onto Xander's folded up hide-a-bed. She gave the stuffed rabbit hanging by its neck from a rope off of the lamp a baleful look. "I might as well be a member of the Donner Party. At least then I'd have been eaten. And eating someone else is a sign of caring. Just look at Spike! He eats those he cares about."

The redhead looked over at the blond vampire kneeling half-clothed on the floor next to the orange, comfy recliner. Empty bottles of McEwan's Scotch Ale were scattered around him. She watched as he carefully added another bottle to the tower he was building.

"What'cha doing?" Willow asked.

"Aye, missy, wot does it look like I be doin'?" Spike replied, sounding like Groundskeeper Willie from the Simpson's. "I'm buildin' a bleedin' castle."

"Um, Spike, weren't you British a few minutes ago?" she said.

"Aye."

Willow flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "I have the weirdest friends."

"And who be sayin' that I's yer friend, missy?" Spike said.

"**** you, Spike."

Spike's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Psheah, right," Willow snorted. "I may be inebro- inmebe- inenimenieminiemo, but I'm not that drunk."

The blond vampire crawled across the floor and up over her on the couch. He leered down at her. "You sure about that, ducks?" he purred.

"I'd rather be tortured by the Spanish Inquisition," she replied. "They could dress me in evil plaid pants and make me join the cast of Passions-"

"Hey, I like that show!"

"-and beat me repeatedly with a frying pan," she continued. "And even then I still wouldn't have... you know... with you!" She put her hands on his chest and heaved him off of her. He fell onto the floor with a thud.

"Ow."

"Serves you right, you big weenie," Willow said.

Spike sat up and glared at her. She smirked. He slid into game face and exclaimed, "'Death awaits you with nasty, big, pointy teeth!'"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Willow screamed, causing Spike to cover his ears, as she jumped up from the couch. She bolted for the basement door leading outside. "'RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!'"

With a gleeful, fang-filled grin, Spike shot to his feet and gave chase. "I'm going to get you, Willow!"

"Never!"

The two burst out of Xander's back yard, running full speed. Willow crashed into the hedge bush and bounced back, landing on her butt on the hard ground. Spike skid to a halt beside her, pointed, and started laughing. Willow stuck her tongue out at him.

"Is that another invitation, luv?" Spike asked, waggling his brows.

"Spike, you'd have to look exactly like Trent Reznor in those leather pants for me to even consider kissing you," Willow replied.

Spike stuck out his lower lip in a pout after his face reverted back to its smooth, handsome planes. He stalked over to the hedge bush as Willow got to her feet.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm takin' a pisser," he answered.

"Spike, you're a vampire," Willow pointed out. "You don't need to pee."

Spike turned around. "Oh. Right," he said. He frowned at the redhead. "What's wrong?"

Willow stood staring at him, her mouth in a perfect 'o', a red flush staining her cheeks. Spike looked down and saw that he was flashing her his bits. He grinned lasciviously. "Like what you see, pet?"

"Those African Swallows sure have their work cut out for them," Willow said in a breathy voice.

"Eh?"

"You've got some mighty big coconuts there, Spike."

Then she pounced on him.

*****

Xander and Anya walked up the driveway of his house, a second bag of rented Monty Python videos in hand in order to continue the small, drinking party in his basement.

"Xander, is your bush suppose to be doing that?" Anya asked, pointing at the shaking hedge.

"The only time a bush shakes like that is when there's people UFO by it," Xander replied. "Or it's some nasty Hellmouth bush monster that's planning to eat us when our backs are turned."

They exchanged a glance, then hurried towards the house. Once safely behind locked doors, Anya asked, "Xander, what's a 'People UFO?'"

"'People Unabashedly ****ing Outside.'"

Heres another


You brought me all the way out here just to look at a crypt?"

Spike rolled his eyes, wishing for one, just one vampire friend who could appreciate this. "It's not just a crypt," he explained patiently, "it's my new digs. What do you think? Some potted plants, a few throw pillows..."

"Spike." Willow shook her head and gave the tall blonde a crooked smile. "It's a place where dead people are laying in tombs. There's not much you could do that would make it look homey to me."

"You're being narrow-minded." Now he was getting irritated. He'd been so caught up in the idea of finally getting out of Xander's basement that he hadn't really considered the asthetics of his new habitat, simply that it would be big enough for him to sleep in. "Use your imagination, Red. Think evil, like me. It's dark, it's cold, it's forbidding..."

"It's a big marble block." Willow cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you were looking into places with electricity and stuff so that you could refrigerate your...food."

Spike smirked as the young woman tripped over the mention of his feeding habits, then promptly returned to his regularly scheduled annoyance. "I don't even know why I'm asking you," he gave her a disgusted roll of his dark eyes, "you're just a silly slayer wanna-be with no boyfriend and an oddly layered haircut."

For a moment, Willow was taken aback, stung. Then she remembered who was doing the talking. "And you're so much better off?" she asked, eyes wide with incredulity. "Mr. I Can't Bite Any Living Creature So I Sulk All Day and Watch Soap Operas?"

Spike opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off.

"May I remind you that I'm the one who's always sticking up for you, always taking your side, always sneaking you cookies? If it wasn't for me, the others would have let you stake yourself by now, you big baby."

"Ha!" Spike stiffened and gave the witch his most haughty stare. "You'd like to think that you're my savior, wouldn't you, Red? Well, in case you failed to notice, I have tried several times to bite you. Several times in a row, in fact. If it weren't for those Army assholes, you'd be calling me Master by now, you little twit!"

"Twit?" Willow was now well and truly seething. "At least I do some good around here. You're entirely worthless. All you can do is wail on demons and ***** about not being able to kill people! I'm the one who convinced Buffy not to stake you, you know." Actually, that wasn't quite true, but she'd be damned if she'd let him get the better of her.

"Well, thank you so much, Saint Willow." Spike's pulse was nearing normal, which in vampire terms was somehwere close to cardiac arrest. For the first time in months, he was feeling something besides suicidal. What he was feeling he couldn't exactly put his finger on, but whatever it was, he was enjoying it. "You know, Buffy's G.I. boyfriend and his little cronies almost unloaded a submachine gun into your sorry ass, but I stopped them. What have you got to say to that, Oh Immaculate One?"

"Immaculate?" Willow's fists were curled into tight balls at her sides. "I'm not some simpering little girl, you know. I may not be the Slayer, but I go up against rampaging demons and vampire armies too. I don't even want to think about how many times I've come close to dying."

"Well, alert the media." Spike spread his arms wide and addressed the empty cemetary. "Everybody rejoice, Willow's still alive! She's ****ing indestructible, ladies and gentleman! She certainly doesn't need me to help her out of near-fatal situations, because she's got it all figured out!"

"You'd think," Willow hissed, "that someone as old as you would be just a little more mature."

"Ouch." Spike put a hand to his chest, as though he'd been shot. "That one went right for the heart, didn't it? Buffy should just let you at the baddies with your razor-sharp wit. That'd teach 'em to mess with the forces of good!"

"I can't believe that I went out of my way to be nice to you!" Willow wailed. "This whole semester has been torture for me, what with Oz leaving and everyone else finding their true love, and yet you stand here and make fun of me like...like it's high school all over again." Willow's lower lip began to tremble and she bit it, hard. There was no way she was going to cry in front of Spike. No way. She was all cried out, by God.

Spike hesitated. Usually he delighted in getting in a few good hits against the Slayer and her little friends, but if Red started bawling all over the place, he had the horrible feeling that he wouldn't enjoy it at all. What had happened to him? Whatever the Initiative had implanted in him was obviously affecting his mental functions as well as his physical ones.

"Look," he shifted awkwardly and shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his duster. "I know that the others gave you shit about the whole wolf thing." He kept his eyes fixed on his boots. Maybe it would be better if he had at least one of the Slayer's brats on his side. "I know...ugh. I know how it feels to be bereaved of your love. When Dru wouldn't come back to me I thought I was going to cave in, you know? Just crumble to the ground and never be able to stand up again. And then I took Harm, because I thought that if I had someone, 'lighter' I guess is the word, then I wouldn't have to be alone, and I wouldn't have to worry about getting in so deep. But it sucked anyway. She drove me absolutely batty. And then I get neutered and can't even bite anyone, and I'm suddenly hanging around my sworn enemies, and everybody loathes me..." he looked up at her, surprised to see that she wasn't laughing at him, but rather watching him silently, brow furrowed in thought.

"You were the only one who treated me like I wasn't some burden. When I went looking for the Slayer and found you...well, I offered you a choice, but truth be told, Red, I wasn't going to give you one. Killing you was never in the plan. I always kind of liked you. You're an odd one...but in an interesting way. After nearly two centuries, most people just blend into one big oblivious human machine, bumbling around like a merry idiot. But you always seem to know exactly what's happening. And when I couldn't bite you, couldn't turn you...I was so ****ing angry I thought I was going to breathe fire. Not just because I couldn't drain you, but because I couldn't...have you."

She said nothing, but her luminous eyes were huge.

"And now I feel like the biggest goddamned pansy that ever walked the earth."

Willow smiled and stifled a giggle, but Spike didn't find anything about it humorous. In fact, this was quickly becoming revelatory in a way he wasn't prepared to deal with. She wasn't his type at all, for Christ's sake. "Sure," he grumbled, "laugh at me. You should. I'm just a bloody clown at this point, anyway. If any other vampires were around to see this, they'd stake me on the spot."

Willow didn't know how to process any of what he'd just said to her, but she was sure now that it wasn't just her soft heart that had always been willing to support Spike. "You don't...", her own voice, thick with emotion, surprised her. "You can't know how what you said makes me feel. I don't know how it makes me feel. You're a vampire and you're, you know, handsome and sexy and all black leathery. You could have anyone. The thought that you even considered making me a vampire is unbelieveable. I always thought I was so lucky to have Oz, but in the back of my mind I always thought that the reason he liked me was because he was strange, and I was strange. We fit. But no normal person...or non-person...would ever want me. So thank you. And...I kind of like you too. Even though you're a total jackass."

Spike smiled widely, suddenly dazzlingly happy and only slightly alarmed at his dazzling happiness. "So you...think I'm handsome do you?"

Willow blushed from neck to hairline. "I'm leaving." She turned and began walking away.

"The leather does it for you, does it?" He called after her. "I knew it all along!"

"Screw you," she retorted, but to his ears it sounded like a gentle melody. Dru had left him, Oz had left her...and no one gave a second thought to either of them. He had a feeling that everything was changing, that the stars were aligning his way again.

"So," he hollered as her form began to dissolve into the distance. "Pick you up at eight?"

*End*

Like them???

you touched my heart!!
because....
I LOVE VAMPIRES!!!!!!!!!!!!

Really

Those were cool stories. I liked them all. So to both of you I say thank you for making up cool stories.

i'd be one myself if only Lestat wld appear in front of me
thanks man

OMG ME TO I'D TOTTALY WONNA BE A VAMPIRE!!!!!!!!!!

woohoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
another fellow vampire!!!
looks like it's time to revive the coven again

bloomilicious I luved yours so much.
Exspecially the first one. How you gracefully described every word. It didn't paint a picture in my head it painted a beatifull cartoon in it. I only hope to be able to write like that in time.
A question. How many times do you go over the same peice of work to REedit it and how long do you think your average piece takes.

oh my...i'm so flattered blushing
thank you so much!you've totally made my day hug

hmm...let's see...when i write?i don't usually come up with a plot for really short stories like these,and i usually end up editing at most twice...you know, trying to find the perfect words and all to fit into the whole fabric...
and for short stories...i usually write when insiration strikes,and at those moments i can go pretty fast - i'm usually done with an almost completed version within 1 hr for such short stories....but other times i can even take twice the amount of time....

but when it come to much longer works,the process is a li'l different.short stories i write when things strike me.longer works develop in my mind 1st and i might edit them many times....

but with both types,i edit til i get the feeling that the work is polished and completed,so the rough figures i gave you are like averages

are you an aspiring writer too?

I made a vampire thing in the off topic called ~vampires unnite`

i'm a founding member of the KMC coven so.

oooo

aaahhh i must update this!i've written more but they're kinda stuck in my room somewhere.


new ones will be up by next week!