Jack Allsopp

 

Fiction Short Story Starts

 

Story #1

Refreshing ice cold water dripped down Jason’s focused face. Water that attempted to cloud his vision was enfeebled by the pure determination that was channeled to getting through this section of rapids. With each stroke of his paddle, water was carved around the hull that protected him from the unforgiving currents of the Penobscot river. Each stroke got him farther from his past and closer to a uncertain future. As the water’s calmed, Jasoned was privileged to gaze upon the kingdom he had entered. Giants ruled these parts, they stretched up and down the river bank and as far as the eye could see. Hidden creatures looked on upon the stranger from their shroud of foliage, not used to an invasion of their nearly untouched domain. The stranger was alone, but had a gash across his forehead that seemed to unphase him.

 

The stranger made his way an eddy and pulled his kayaked up onto the bank. He pulled what little supplies he had from the stern of his boat. He reached into his dry bag to check that his essentials were undamped by the river’s journey. 2 drops of blood dropped down from the stream of blood that had canvased his forehead and onto this tip of his nose and landed on his pocket knife. He closed the bag, and reached up to feel the gash that he reluctantly wanted to believe was there. It had all happened so fast, and the stinging feeling from his forehead had felt like something that could be ignored till he was safely out the water. Looking up and down the river, only glistening summer water filled his vision. He let out a yelp up and down the river but was replied with only the sounds of distant birds and wind rustling through the great pines that seemed to consume where he had stranded himself.

 

Story #2

 

The rustling grows louder outside my tent, it had woken me up but the sleepy state of me brushed it off as wind. It had slowly gotten closer and louder as the minutes strained by. The direction of the sound kept moving all around, as if we were being circled. I was now petrified to make a sound. Sam was in the tent adjacent to mine, I had no idea if he had been woken up by the sound as well, but there was no indication of him being awake at all.

 

10 minutes of silence go by. Complete silence, no wind, no small creatures of the night making their sounds. Silence. Suddenly, “Caw caw” goes one crow, then another, then another, the volume increases 10 fold as what sounded like an army of crow start calling out their terrible screech. The temperature began to significantly drop, and like a the water going from hot to cold in the shower, a wave of shock began to take me over me. My loneliness took over my fear and I called out to Sam.

When I received no response in the midst of being drowned out by the screeching of the crows. I began to shake with a icy fear. The tent that normally felt like a safe haven, felt like the most vulnerable place to be with the paper thin walls and metal poles that. I reachup from my sleeping bag and grasp the zipper of the tent flap. I hesitate with fear and call out for sam, this time with a cracked voice and noticeable terror, almost crying for help.

 

Story #3

A white room, so white it nearly blinds you. There are no windows, no doors, no smells. They walls feel like glass and the corners are curved inward, but everything beams this super white allows nothing to hide. There are no shadows. White cloths, I am wearing a white shirt, and white pants. There is nowhere to hide, but hide from what? There are no cameras in this room, and no indication that I am being watched. This is all I know. Oh I did forget one thing, when I wake up there is a single plate of food that consists of a four by four by four chunk of meat, 2 pieces of broccoli, a slice of white bread, with the crusts cut off, a glass of water, approximately 12 fluid announces in a shiny metal cup. I am not given any utensils.

 

After I finish the food and drink the water, I wake up and everything is gone. I do not taste the food in my mouth, none is stuck in my teeth. I have no account for time. Time is simply now, and then. I am touched and been in every corner of this room. Examined every inch. Screamed in that corner. Sobbed in that other one. I sometimes smile in that other one. That other one is rarely used. I do not use one corner. I have no rhyme or reason for it. I just do not use it. I spend my time sitting. I have no memory of who I am, I do not know who I am. I honestly am not sure If what this is, is life, so some cruel nightmare where time is irrelevant. One thing keeps me wondering though, why I never have to use the bathroom. I eat the food, but I am never aware that it leaves my body.

 

Story #1 Revision

Story #1 Very rough draft

Refreshing ice cold water dripped down Jason’s focused face. Water that attempted to cloud his vision was enfeebled by the pure determination that was channeled to getting through this section of rapids. With each stroke of his paddle, water was carved around the hull that protected him from the unforgiving currents of the Penobscot river. Each stroke got him farther from his past and closer to a uncertain future. As the water’s calmed, Jason was privileged to gaze upon the kingdom he had entered. Giants ruled these parts, they stretched up and down the river bank and as far as the eye could see. Hidden creatures looked on upon the stranger from their shroud of foliage, not used to an invasion of their nearly untouched domain. The stranger was alone, but had a gash across his forehead that seemed to unphase him.

 

Jason made his way an eddy and pulled his kayaked up onto the bank. He pulled what little supplies he had from the stern of his boat. He reached into his dry bag to check that his essentials were undamped by the river’s journey. 2 drops of blood dropped down from the stream of blood that had canvased his forehead and onto this tip of his nose and landed on his pocket knife. He closed the bag, and reached up to feel the gash that he reluctantly wanted to believe was there. It had all happened so fast, and the stinging feeling from his forehead had felt like something that could be ignored till he was safely out the water. Looking up and down the river, only glistening summer water filled his vision. He let out a yelp up and down the river but was replied with only the sounds of distant birds and wind rustling through the great pines that seemed to consume where he had stranded himself.

 

With none of his buddies in sight, he decided the next best decision would be to stay where he was. He pulled his gear and kayak more inland off the bank and sat on his kayak. Rummaging through his dry bag he found his first aid kit and pulled out gause. He began to wipe away blood but soon realized how bad the gash was. He sat up and walked a few steps to the bank to see his reflection. As he leaned over more drops of blood fell from his face and hit the water. Making little droplet noises Jason watch the blood expand in the water, disrupting his reflection. The gash appeared an inch long and looked deep. A feeling of dread washed over him as he realized the gravity of his situation. This was no injury to ignore and he knew it, this called for stitches and serious medical attention. Attention he knew he would have to go without. Splashing some cool water in his face he cleaned the wound as best as he could, making the water below him turn a dark red. Going back to his kit he began to wrap the wound on his head. He knew the wrap wasn’t going to last long but he had to make due with what he had.

Canvassing the area he collected wood for a fire. He found a little clearance in the dense woods to make what small little excuse for a camp would be. As he proceeded to gathering kindling the ache and pain from his poorly attended to wound started to tear into pain on his forehead, making it hard focus. The pain began to drain on his stamina and he knew he needed to rest. Using what strength he had left he gathered some stone from the bank and made a small fire pit, lit his kindling with a match, and had a small fire burning away. Over the next few hours Jason repeated a cycle of tending the fire and periodically checking up river for any sign of his friends. As the sun began to set,  the pain coming from the gash in his head became increasingly unbearable. The blood had now soaked through the gauze wrapped around his head and he only had enough left for one more wrap around. As darkness set in, the noises of the deep wilderness became the only familiar sensation for him. He laid resting against his kayak, the fire providing mild warmth a few feet away, and stared up at the stars. In that moment he grasped the gravity of what could happen if he did not receive help anytime soon. He knew he had lost a lot of blood, and he knew his friends were doing everything in their power to come find him, he tried to keep the fire as big as he could without it cautioning danger but the energy to find more wood was lost on him due to his body fighting to deal with the gash across his forehead. Staring up at those stars, Jason knew after all these years of taking it the next level and pushing himself to go beyond his convert zone, that this may be the world telling him enough is enough, and that’s it’s time to rest now.

 

Story Start #4

 

Darkness doesn’t quite describe it. Eerie dark blue surrounds me in all directions. I feel nothing but my heartbeat in this endless abyss.

Bubbles float up in front of me creating that familiar sound

I’m floating, unaware of all sense of direction. I know I am not alone, but the thought of being alone is equally as scary

The constant unshakable grip of fear has me entranced. Here am I not the dominant species. I am prey. I am humbled, humbled with fear that I do not have control of what happens.

Bubbles rise again

“Come in Brody”

Static

I knew I should have listened to him. I wanted adventure. I wanted adrenaline flowing through my veins. I got it alright. Adventure, adrenaline, but at what cost.

He is dead. Swallowed by the deep. In the jaws of whatever lurks around me.

I take another breath. Bubbles float up towards the invisible surface

           No one ever tells you what it’s like to feel complete fear. Fear that grips the whole of your mind and body. Fear that won’t let your mind go. It controls you. You become fears bitch.

           There is no reason to fear the dark. It’s simply what you see that happens to be nothing. You fear the unknown, and darkness is the mask it wears.

Breath

The worst part is I can feel it. Its presence. The way the water around me moves, it dances it’s terrible dance.

I know i’m being watched. I feel it in my bones. Closer. Closer. I am completely vulnerable.

Breath

My depthometer is broken. But I know I am deep, 50 meters plus. I cannot swim up fast. I’ll get the bends. I am still making my slow acent to the surface. My flashlight is dead. My air is low.

It swoops by me. Fast. Faster than you would imagine. I turn, look up and down. Do this but it feels useless. I see the same thing in all directions. That haunting darkness of the deep.

Breath.

I kick my legs a little faster.

Breath.

The water swirls around me. It’s coming.

Breath.

Faster I kick. But I know I have to stop. No point of getting away from it if I dead befoer the surface anyways.

Breath. Breath. Breath. More bubbles. Less air.

Pain rips into my ankle. Violently sharp teeth tear at my flesh, bloodying the water.

Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath.

I kick at the source of the pain with my other leg but I feel myself being dragged deeper. The already icy water becoming even more deadly.

Breath. Breath. Breath. Bubbles float to the surface.

I do know what is happening. I am screaming to the void. Pain strangles my thoughts and suffocates my body. There is no light to grasp, or hope to hold on too. Only sinking terror.

Story Start Draft #1 2/16

 

Darkness doesn’t quite describe it. Eerie dark blue surrounds me in all directions. I feel nothing but my heartbeat, beating fast and heavy,  in this endless abyss.

Bubbles float up in front of me creating that familiar sound

I’m floating, unaware of all sense of direction. I know I am not alone, but the thought of being alone is equally as scary.

The constant unshakable grip of fear has me entranced. Here am I not the dominant species, I am prey and the realization of that is terrifying. I am  humbled with the fear that I do not have control of what happens, I am in another world down here.

Bubbles rise again

“Come in Brody,” I call out into the comms with desperation. I pause, 5 seconds, 10 seconds,15 seconds.

Static.

We had survived a few hours in a tiny air pocket that was created when our boat sank. We had one set of scuba gear accessible from the where we were. I made the decision to leave the safety of the air pocket, to try and reach the surface. Now realizing, the depth we were at wasn’t the only thing we had to survive.

I knew I should have listened to him. I wanted adventure. I wanted adrenaline flowing through my veins. I got it alright. Adventure, adrenaline, but at what cost.

James is dead. Swallowed by the deep. In the jaws of whatever lurks around me.

I take another breath. Bubbles float up towards the invisible surface

           No one ever tells you what it’s like to feel complete fear. Fear that grips the whole of your mind and body. Fear that won’t let your mind go. It controls you. You become fears bitch.

           My mother always me that there was no reason to fear the dark. Darkness cannot hurt you she would say. I believed that all my life, until now, when I realized that we, as humans, fear the unknown, and darkness is the mask it wears.

Breath.

The worst part is I can feel it. Its presence. The way the water around me swirls and dances, toying with my fear and anxiety. I know I’m being watched. I feel it in my bones. Closer. Closer. The presence grows like an unavoidable pain that I will have inevitably happen. I am completely vulnerable.

Breath

My depthometer is broken. But I know I am deep, fiftly meters plus. I cannot swim up fast. I’ll get the bends. I am still making my slow ascent to the surface. My flashlight is dead. My air is starting to get low.

It swoops by me. Fast. Faster than you would imagine. I turn, look up and down. Do this but it feels useless. I see the same thing in all directions. That haunting darkness of the deep.

Breath.

I kick my legs a little faster.

Breath.

The water swirls around me. It’s coming.

Breath.

Faster I kick. But I know I have to stop. No point of getting away from it if I dead before the surface anyways.

Breath. Breath. Breath. More bubbles. Less air.

Pain rips into my ankle. Violently sharp teeth tear at my flesh, bloodying the water.

Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath.

I kick at the source of the pain with my other leg but I feel myself being dragged deeper. The already icy water becoming even more deadly.

Breath. Breath. Breath. Bubbles float to the surface.

I do not know what is happening. I am screaming to the void. Pain strangles my thoughts and suffocates my body. There is no light to grasp, or hope to hold on too. Only sinking terror.

Deeper I’m being dragged, I keep trying to kick at the source of the pain but whatever has me is not letting up.

I tilt my head back to equalize the pressure. The pain is now unbearable as I feel the razor sharp teeth dig deeper into my ankle. Still I cannot see the creature that controls my fate.

I kick as hard as a can with my free leg, mustering all the strength I have left.

After one final kick its jaws open and I’m momentarily free.

I scream out to no one in anguish and hopelessness.

Sharp pain pulses from my ankle as torn flesh seeps more blood into the water.  

I am not ready to die. I want to live. Oh god I want to live. I don’t want to die. I’m not ready.

Drifting aimlessly now in darkness and suffering, my consuming fear has taken over. I start to reluctantly accept my  my fate, floating in this hell of another world.

I don’t have any idea where to swim to, the sunken wreck of our ship was where we had spent the past couple hours trying survive in the air pocket that had been created in the kitchen of yacht.

The next few minutes are spent in  complete silence apart from my decreasing breaths trying to calm myself down. I feel lifeless, just floating in a void. I check my air again, I have about 10 minutes left. I never wondered what it would feel like to know exactly when your going to die. 10 minutes seems like an awfully short time.

My last 10, instead of saying goodbye to all my loved ones and my beautiful fiance, will be spent here, floating, in the constant state of paranoia.

My sense of humor appears to not be lost though, as a give myself a small chuckle at the thought of being an astronaut, floating through space, a space pirate, though pretty shitty one at that.

There is a change in the motion of the water, ever so slight, that it silences my humor.

A light appears.

The little glimmer of hope shined towards me.

I swim towards it, the pain from my leg becoming unbearable.

I yell over the comms, “HEY HEYYY, IM HERE, IM OVER HERE, PLEASE,” the words leave my mouth with heavy desperation. I check my air. I have 6 minutes left.

The light grows closer. My addrenline seems to be my saving grace as I turn pain into strength, kicking as much as I can towards hope.

A silhouette barely comes into view, yet that was enough to make me sigh with some relief.

I made it back to the wreck. I follow the light into the break in the hull where the air pocket is held. James is still alive.