Ch. VII - Through the Eyes of ReminiscenceCatching sight of herself in the mirror, she started to vomit.
What is happening...
She never noticed the black, formless shadow appearing next to her until she heard the eyelids slide up violently, and rough hands reached out and pulled her out of the grey mist into darkness.
What is this... I have seen this before... it is so familiar and yet so different...
Something large and shapeless, flowing like a blood-covered sky, swam past and circled around her. Orbs of light blinked in and out of existence as a Voice echoed within her skull.
Give it to me! It is mine!
Her eyes danced from side to side, her head was splitting, sweat was dripping down her neck and face, everything was hot and cold, everything hurt with a screaming pain, but she couldn't seem to make her mouth move to do it.
GIVE IT TO ME OR SHE WILL KILL US BOTH!!
For a moment Paul didn't know where he was, who he was and what he was. He wasn't even s
A Man Reborn"Go."A Man Reborn1 year ago in Writing More Like This
Somewhere, Lysanna clawed at the shards of mirror, using the last of her strength to send the message. The words came to Tal'shen as needling pain, piercing her mind. "Forget them," her mother said. "Go now and do as I've created you to do!"
Tal'shen felt her mother die. It did not matter. There was no feeling of attachment; only the drive to carry out her purpose. Growing still, her monstrous form filled the room. She shot two massive tentacles upwards, rending a large hole in the ceiling. Outside, she blinked in the fog. London, that was the name of this city, wasn't it? A good a place as any to begin.
Inside, Maya coughed back the bits of dust and plaster. "Paul," she breathed, wincing at the mass of flesh Tal'shen had left in her wake. She went to him, gasping at his flayed carcass, nothing more than quivering bits of meat and bone. She closed her eyes. One chance.
A Shower and a Change"Ah, damn. God damn."A Shower and a Change1 year ago in Writing More Like This
The stain was small, no larger than a coin. It fell near his right hip, nestled in the dip between crotch and thigh. Still, it was nauseating. Paul stripped off the trousers and walked to the sink, hoping the sliver of hotel soap would take out the spot.
He began running the hot water and paused, staring at the vomit. Resisting the urge to gag, he grazed his fingers over the stain. It was purely liquid and slick like dish soap, but the sickly brown could only be vomit. He slowly raised his hand to his face and sniffed his fingers. Nothing. It seemed, for a moment, odorless. But no, he suddenly caught a faint scent of metal. Like a cup full of coins. Or a bloodied nose.
"Shit!" A stream of blood ran down his nostrils, over his lip and down his chin. Paul dropped the trousers to the bathroom floor and watched the b
We are Progeny"Breathe. . . " was the first word he had heard when the disjoint world came to a formless solitude, a blank existence. The voice was deep, inhuman but neutral, and though he would not trust it given the turn of events, he was grateful to have felt nothing rather then pain when he rose to his feet to see it; the source of the voice.We are Progeny1 year ago in Writing More Like This
"Who are you?!" Paul demanded with mistrust. The figure mirrored his looks with the exception of it being a dark silhouette.
"We are Progeny; the outcome of how you choose to end this."
"How I should choose?!" He snapped, throwing an angered point of accusation. "You've done nothing but throw me in nightmares! What CHOICE do I have to look forward to?!"
"Symbiosis." It answered.
How could that be a choice?! But then again, Maya and Lysanna explained differently. Perhaps this one was different.
"We have seen the events; the wars of your kind. They are preserved in your DNA. The process of conquest will be of no variance for the assailants who proclaim peace
[Odyssey Epilogue] Apocalyptic AscentFree at last[Odyssey Epilogue] Apocalyptic Ascent1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
I can let loose
Wholly unfettered by him
I've got sights to mar
Places to wreck, and
People to kill
So hide your children
and lock your doors
For my adventure begins...
Reflectivedepthless eyesReflective10 months ago in Poetry More Like This
seeing what you can’t and you
never know they’re their
living what you won’t and you
can’t see how fair they are
even though your reflexive eyes
have seen the end
of the curve, wrapping around
to start all over again
you’re startled, overwhelmed
wondering how you’ve been so blind
JourneysPaul:Journeys1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
It was an interview.
Opportunities, they said,
I thought, Women.
London will have women,
And one will find me.
They have found me, filled me, emptied me,
Did I pass?
I am in the dark, dry and strange
And my children, most, are dead.
I will not swim again
in warm seas.
We walk in two worlds.
Our colleagues are afraid and silent.
We sleep badly,
We hold onto our knife,
We dream of teeth
The Redhaired Man:
Why are they staring?
I bought my ticket
I am ill (where am I?)
Leave me alone (help me!)
Get out of me (you are killing me)
(We are dying)
Out of that bony cradle
into the cold
Hot blood beats like the sea
in small creatures
Let me suckle
and become whole
Eternal WinterSuffering in eternal flamesEternal Winter1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
I walk the path of sorrows
Dark is my enduring winter
Lost within a heathen land
I am to the darkness bound
Wandering... Never found
Transcendental DarknessThey transcend timeTranscendental Darkness1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
The viruses en vita
Explosions of color
Deep dank darkness
Hell descending down
Violent virulent colors
Spines, horns, claws
Black, blood, ending
They will never leave us
The madness and seizures
They deceived us
And now they are here
The pentacle of poison
A pentagram of stillness
It all ends here
[Odyssey Interlude] In Too DeepPaul could feel it inside[Odyssey Interlude] In Too Deep1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
The enigma in him
Crawling under his skin
Creeping into his dreams
Spreading a c r o s s his being
It's IN him.
Stop it! he shouts.
Get out! he SCREAMS.
But it's too late.
It is HIM!
Odyssey Propulsion 5We have decided to extend the writing deadline for the last chapter to December 31 and we're expanding the Word count to 800 words for our final chapter! Artists will then have two full weeks to illustrate our final chapter - meaning artwork for Chapter 8 will be due by January 14, 2013. Any Animations/films and poetry deadlines are now extended until Jan 14! We will then unleash, I mean publish, this tale of Paul’s very unexpected journey!Odyssey Propulsion 51 year ago in DeviantART Announcements More Like This
The final battle to block Tal’shen’s launch of the takeover of Earth. Paul, from whose own body Tal’shen, the gelatinous beaked tentacled monster, was gestated and born. Paul says he knows how to destroy the creature. And who better than he, he being half “mother” of the monster.
So now 800 words, give or take, is the space we have to wind up our story, a story that has expanded and mutated like the first bit of subway vomit that was Paul’s ticket into what has now swollen to Lovecraf
To become somethingHe kept screaming, despite knowing it was a fruitless effort of clinging to life, to his humanity. Paul’s mind was clouded by Tal’Shen’s thoughts, leaving little room for his own. He fought back, rebelling against the parasite, but it was useless, for Tal’Shen was stronger.To become something1 year ago in Writing More Like This
He then realized survival was out of reach...
He oddly felt comforted by this thought. Accepting the fact that death was a better option than becoming an empty shell under the command of another, he released his mind from Tal’Shen, falling into oblivion...
If this was dying, he thought, it isn’t bad.
The pain disappeared...memories returned. His name was Paul and somehow...he was alive. Where he was, he didn't know, but he had to be “somewhere” if he was aware of his existence. It was a surreal feeling...being nothing yet existing somewhere in the pressing darkness...
An orb appeared, its surface swirling with different colors. It pulsated feebly, its light weak.
A bloody coincidence.London was calling, but her once sensuous voice failed to tempt Paul. An angry migraine pounded in time with the lazy bass of a stereo located somewhere in the hostel, and not for the first time Paul cursed the wafer thin films of plaster that passed as walls. He could have afforded a better place he should have but Paul had hoped to reignite his love affair with London by returning to the place where it all started. Unfortunately, somehow in the last thirteen years, this once fair succubus of a city had transformed into a sleazy page six call girl. It was with a deep sense of irony Paul realised that, despite its cold welcome, London had still managed to get his pants off.A bloody coincidence.1 year ago in Writing More Like This
Having discovered the patch of vomit left by the redheaded man, Paul had quickly stripped off the offending item of clothing. At first he had considered washing his trousers, but in the end he had simply thrown them out. No matter how thoroughly the trousers were scrubbed, Paul knew they wou
Chapter I (?)Things are not as simple as they always seemChapter I (?)1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
A dot, a spot, so easily it seems to just clean
If light only knew what it was truly shinning upon
the beginning, the end a not so welcomed dawn
and may that dawn bring the unexpected
an experience, a lesson that all things are connected
Outside InLook at the beautyOutside In10 months ago in Poetry More Like This
There is shit everywhere, every
breath drags it into me.
There is beauty all around
The ground under my feet is poisoned
I look up, and the sky is dying.
I see what you cannot
We avert our eyes, our
sighs we bottle up inside.
So much potential, so much
A shell of protection,
we’re so close to breaking apart.
You ignore your treasure,
this precious world, a shining
reflection of infinite possibilities—
you don’t deserve it
and you won’t miss
what you never noticed
Day in, die out
it’s all the same.
No one knows my name,
I’ve grown OK with that.
Life should make sense by now
instead, it drags me down.
A way in, that’s all I ask—
a path to your world, a
chance to taste neglected wonders
I wander through life,
it’s what we do when we don’t dream.
A seam to rip apart;
I’ll tear through you
Something has entered me
You may not make it
Outraywhat’s mine is mineOutray10 months ago in Poetry More Like This
to twist or unwind
I know what I hold dear
the end is near
if you had your way
each night you’d erase the next day
the price you had to pay
was far too high,
you ripped apart the sky
no explanation why
other than wanting to play God
you needed no encouraging nod
my ally was odd
even to you, yet she
also betrayed me
I can finally see
the truth you tried to hide
I saw once I died
so I turned the tide
you are out of time
what’s mine is mine
Odyssey II: Ballad For The HeroOdyssey II: Ballad For The HeroOdyssey II: Ballad For The Hero10 months ago in Poetry More Like This
It came down to this.
This was the end, everything was amiss.
How could something so inhuman know so much about this world?
Floating to the scene, what did all this mean?
Had he overcome all that stood in his way, despite the fact that he had no say?
This was no different. Puffs of red mist fell to the ground as quickly as sound.
Embryos disintegrating on contact, it wouldn't be long before complete impact.
The rift spun open, the vacuum was potent.
As quickly as it begun, the battle had been won.
But the odyssey was not over, there was more to be found, more to fight, more to evolve. Yet another problem to solve.
So the odyssey lives on, for more and more tales to be based upon.
ResurgenceMelodic hues pulsate with urgencyResurgence10 months ago in Poetry More Like This
Copulating his flesh to begin anew
Two beings unite, bound by the Progeny
Human spirit strengthens the bond
Unnatural magic tempts the soul
Man and Beast, their auras respond
Only in the end, will he find resurgency
And restore peace to the world that has become askew
A Subtle Shift in CourseA subtle shift in courseA Subtle Shift in Course1 year ago in Poetry More Like This
That seemed quite insubstantial at first
Has given way, till you're far off path
And lost in a distant trance
What seemed inconsequential at the start
Has now made your life slowly fall apart
As you watch it crumble and crumple in your hands
You feel yourself loose your grip, and go mad
A certain paranoia sinks through the weary haze
You desperately try and slip away
As it grows into an uncontrollable panic
And you begin to grow drastic
And as the fear begins to grow
A soft voice in your head begins to echo
What did you do to deserve such a fate?
But put it out of mind, because it's too late
You're surly going to die by the hand
That you didn't see, didn't expect, and
The one you weren't afraid of
Brought this nightmare to life
And all of this came to roust
From a subtle shift in course
Odyssey II: That Which Can Be ImaginedOdyssey II: That Which Can Be ImaginedOdyssey II: That Which Can Be Imagined5 months ago in Art Features More Like This
Final Thoughts from Clive Barker
Odyssey. I can think of no better word to describe the journey that took place these past few months.
With the prologue, “They’re Mad, They Are,” I began work on a vessel that was not yet ready for sea. And on that holed ship, together we embarked over open waters towards an unknown destination.
What I then witnessed both touched and humbled me. You, the mighty crew of the HMS Ody
Odyssey II Submission: Chapter OneCHAPTER ONE: WORLD'S ENDOdyssey II Submission: Chapter One1 year ago in Writing More Like This
God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December. J.M. Barrie
The young redhaired woman was admiring herself in a full-length mirror. The vintage dress she was modeling reflected her fondness for the antique. She still laughed to think of how as a teenager she'd wandered from Victoria Station all the way down to the World's End area of the King's Road, somehow naively thinking that some glittering remnant of a 1960s storefront would magically appear.
A casual observer might have placed her in her late 20s or early 30s, with a sly smile that suggested a rare intelligence bubbling just below the surface. It was there to note or no; most did not and would discover that they'd badly misjudged her abilities. There were countless fresh-faced office boys who, upon attempting to engage her in some local gossip or office smut, found themselves galloping away with their tails (or other parts) between
Odyssey II with Clive BarkerFAQOdyssey II with Clive Barker1 year ago in DeviantART Announcements More Like This
Collaborate, Publish, Write & Illustrate
*CliveBarker starts us off with the Prologue for Odyssey II and selects the submissions for the final books. The ultimate creative challenge to produce the ultimate deviantART book.
All Guided with the Spectral Hand of Clive Barker.
Every Friday Lit submissions for the current chapter close - Chosen chapter revealed
Odyssey Propulsion 4Artists, Writers, Poets. Through artistry and words command and focus this intense narrative for the final two chapters of our story to be published next year. Best selling author *CliveBarker will continue to guide us through the final passages and incredible visuals as we head toward the end of our story. Join the Collaboration!Odyssey Propulsion 41 year ago in DeviantART Announcements More Like This
Is Paul’s final scream the sound of his soul being released?
Can he have an existence outside of his corporeal being, outside “nothingness?”
Or is this spectral plane the only reality to the trusted – the only viewing platform offering a truly objective view?
ONLY TWO(!!!) chapters left, and still we don’t know the possible parameters of the alien invasion. Obviously, in chapter 7, being the penultimate piece of storytelling, all consequences and secret alignments of forces must be revealed. And the set-up for the gut-grating, mind-mulching clim
Odyssey Propulsion 7Odyssey Propulsion 710 months ago in DeviantART Announcements More Like This
Odyssey Propulsion 7
He who birthed the strange tale into our world with a spurt of kaleidoscopic intergalactic vomit has now decided its end. *CliveBarker has chosen his favorite Chapter Eight to bring the multi-imagined Hydra-headed beast of a story to the end. All that remains is Chapter Eight illustration submissions remaining open for the next two weeks. And with the perfect visual, Odyssey II: Propulsion will become another hallmark in deviantART history.
So many writers and artists from around the world contributed amazing gifts of their wildest imaginations, collaborating with each other and offering suggestions and encouragement to
Odyssey Propulsion 6Odyssey Propulsion 61 year ago in DeviantART Announcements More Like This
Odyssey Propulsion 6
We want to especially thank an elite core of Odyssey II writers:
Those deviants truly embodying the spirit of the project by continuing to create and submit next chapters – no matter the story’s refusal to go along with their proposed direction. The zeitgeist is a powerful force, but the artist must know when to sail against the been-there-done-that. And our writers, artists and poets have been doing that week after week. So many artists and writers continue to send in wonderful material week after week.
We have decided to extend the writing deadline for the last chapter to December 31 and we're