So, I don't know if I told of one of my recent ideas. When I was younger, I wrote about two girls who one day, when they were playing their computer, were sucked into the game. Now, the story was never finished, and actually was quiet bad. (hey, I was young!)
The basic premise, though, wasn't that bad, so I thought I would rewrite. It's drastically different from the original, though it still contains two girls and one crazy computer.
I thought that I would post the first chapter here...
I winced as I heard my name, the intensity and proximity propelled me to groan, and I buried my head under my pillow.
“Maeve! I’m stuck!”
My covers were cruelly thrown off, and I curled up in a ball, protesting the sudden cold.
“Maeve, wake up already!”
Next to go was the pillow that was sheltering my eyes from the harsh light. It was torn away, and at this injustice I decided I had had enough.
“Kyla,” I growled, sitting up and glaring at my sister.
At this ungodly hour in the morning it was extremely disconcerting to glare at my sister; it was like glaring into a mirror.
“Kyla, what in the world could possess you to be so,” I struggled to find the word, my mind still muddled with sleep. “Awake!”
“Maeve, it’s nine o’clock,” she pointed out, her eyes wide.
“Kyla, it is Saturday,” I exclaimed, falling back on my bed, and covering my head with my arms.
“Come on, get up! I’m stuck-”
“What?” I peered up at her, confused.
“That game you introduced me to?” she said, tapping her foot.” Remember?”
“No,” I lied, closing my eyes again.
“I’m stuck, and you will get no sleep until you help me.” Kyla knew that she had won, and her tone held a victory ring.
“I hate you.” With as much dignity as I could possibly muster this early, I rose and with one last glare at my sister, I sat down at the computer desk.
“Well, thank you,” Kyla said, as if I had not been coerced but rather by my own free came to help her.
“Why did I ever give you this game?” I lamented, as I viewed the computer screen.
“Because you are my sister and you love me?” Kyla suggested, leaning over my shoulder to see the screen.
“Ha,” I said shortly. “Okay, what’s the problem?”
“Well, I’ve battled all through this temple thing, and now I ready to go into the boss of all bosses’ room and well, battle the boss, but the problem is-”
“The door is locked, and you have to solve the code to get in,” I finished her sentence, frowning as I considered the situation, absently clicking my fingernails against the mouse.
“I’ve completed half of the little riddle, but I can not get the second half-”
“And you found that more important than my sleep?” I irritably interrupted her.
“Maeve, I’ve been working on this for at least one hour-”
“Do you sleep?”
“Yes, I do, but I don’t waste the morning away like you,” she said curtly. “Can you finish it?”
“Well I don’t know, I just woke up,” I grumbled, my eyes scanning the screen, finding a way to solve the riddle. The riddle was not an overly hard one, but then again, I always had a knack for solving riddles, one particular trait that I did not share with my twin.
“It’s a really good game, I’m glad that your friend showed it to you,” Kyla said as I started the finish the riddle.
Aside from the lack of sleep issue, I was glad that my friend had pointed the game out. We were both in a store, and I was lamenting the fact that I had nothing to give to Kyla for her birthday-well technically for our birthday. The friend pointed to a popular fantasy video game, the type that my eyes had instinctively passed over. Lucky for me, it was a hit.
I opened my mouth to tell Kyla that I had almost finished the riddle, but my words were cut off by a large vibrating sound.
“What the crap is that?” I cried, annoyed.
“I don’t know,” Kyla replied evenly, as if the sound didn’t matter.
“Kyla, it sounds like it’s coming from the computer,” I told her, trying to get some sort of reaction from her. The vibrating sound increased in volume until the low buzz shook the desk.
“Zut, what is that?”
I rolled my eyes. Trust my sister to cuss in French.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good,” I said, slowly pushing the chair away from the desk. The brown wood bounced with the vibration. Pens fell off, clattering on the wooden floor.
“What did you do to it?” Kyla cried, as the image on the screen became distorted.
“I didn’t do anything!” I cried back. “I just woke up! Don’t blame me! I didn’t do anything to the stupid computer.”
The vibrating noise was starting to change frequency into a lower pitch, and the desk’s shaking slowed down.
“Good, it’s over.” Kyla breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, with one large ripping sound, everything went black.
“Maeve? Maeve, wake up.” Someone was shaking my shoulder, and for a minute I was confused.
It must have been a dream, I realized. Granted, a very vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless.
“What?” I mumbled, wanting to sleep for just a bit longer.
“Maeve, wake up.” My sister’s voice held a frantic note to it that I had never heard before.
“What, Kyla?” I asked bringing my head up to look at her.
“What the-” I was unable to find a fitting word, though my mind did run through a good many four letter ones to fill in the blank. My eyes scanned the large room, getting wider, as if to help me process what I was seeing. The floor that I stood on was stone, or at least, it appeared to be stone, the rough material inlaid with some swirling pattern. My eyes slowly pulled up from the floor, viewing the wide chamber. In the middle was a perfectly circular pool, and the water in it was still, reflecting the darkness above like a mirror. The room itself was circular as well, and the little lighting hid the ceiling from view. Little lantern type devices were attached everything three or four feet along the wall, which confirmed my suspicion that the room was circular. Along the pool, acting like some sort of barrier, were columns, majestically rising their dark fingers dissolving into the black above us.
“Kyla, what in the world-”
“I didn’t do anything,” she broke in before I could formally accuse her.
“You didn’t? Then who did?” I exclaimed.
“I don’t know! If I was immature, I would throw your comment back, and proclaim foolishly that you did it. That is pointless though, as if you did,” she paused, throwing her hands out for emphasis, “this, I think that you would not be here.”
Her implied insult, the insinuation that I was being immature in accusing her, was enough to add fuel to my anger, but I bit back my snappy reply. Hard as it was, I didn’t think that fighting would help anything.
“Okay, so, let’s start at the beginning,” I said, taking a deep breath before coughing from the smoke. Glaring at the lantern that was fixed to the wall next to me, my concentration was broken when I realized that I felt heavier than normal. Looking down, I let out a startled yelp. Gone were my fuzzy pajama bottoms, replaced by some dark pants. The fabric, which felt thicker than blue jeans, was fit tight against my upper legs, and disappeared into my dark brown boots. On my left side hung a sword, the hilt protruding from a brown scabbard that was covering with abstract blue designs. The sword hung on a leather belt of sorts. Along the leather belt, which was a few inches wide, hung various pouches, making me feel more like a carpenter than a swordsman. Pushing my arms out in front of me, I saw that I was wearing a dark brown tunic, which was tucked into my belt. The tunic’s sleeves were cut off at the shoulders, and under it I was wearing a black long sleeved shirt.
My eyes jumped to my sister, and saw that she wore an identical outfit.
Oh boy, I thought sourly. Perfect. My identical twin and I are wearing the exact same thing. This was exactly what I avoided ever since I was little. A lot of twins like to dress alike, but I was not one of them.
“Oh, that makes sense.” My sister’s voice was pleasantly surprised, and her emotion was so different from mine that for a second I was at a loss for words.
“What the heck are you talking about? How could you sound so, so-” I exclaimed, trying to think of the right word. “Not panicking! We are in different freaking clothes! I have a, a sword on my side. Doesn’t that creep you out in the least?”
Her green eyes stared back at me, wide and unassuming, a quizzical look in them as if wondering what my sudden outburst was about.
“Well yes, it is a bit disturbing,” she said evenly. “But it’s only logical.”
“Logical?” I echoed, not believing my hearing.
She rolled her eyes, impatient that I didn’t understand. “Maeve, look around. Ring a bell?”
I slowly viewed the chamber again. There was one thing that I had missed in my initial shock. On the opposite side of the pool lit by two torches on either side was a large, circular inset, the stone a light grey. My eyes flittered over the other small details. Leading down to the pool, on all sides, were grey stone steps, with black designs painted upon them. The columns were a dark, dark red. The ceiling was still clouded in darkness. The lantern next to me was hissing. There was nothing that I could see that explained where we were.
“Sorry Kyla, but there are no bells ringing,” I said. My anger and disbelief were beginning to dissipate, and I felt a little shell shocked. It was just so real; I could feel the stone beneath my boots, I could feel the heat coming from the lantern to my right. I knew if I reached out, I could run my hand over the rough stone of the column.
“Well, it makes sense. After all, you did not play that often,” Kyla mused.
“Explain yourself,” I said shortly. If I didn’t, she could go on for hours, her runic and cryptic sentences doing nothing but making me angry.
“Maeve, this, well this is,” her hands wind milled about as searched for the right words. “This is, Haven.”
“Haven?” I repeated dumbly, wondering briefly if Kyla had hit her head.
“Yes, you know-”
“No.” My voice was soft, but it was enough to stop my sister. I thought back to that day in the store. There had been so many computer games; I was at a loss to find one that she would like. I never was one for fantasy games, not like Kyla. I was contemplating just picking up a gift card, until my friend pointed to one. It looked just like the next one, a glossy cover showing some young man dressed oddly with a sword in one hand. Its’ name had been in raised, white large print, spelling out the name of this particular fantasy game.
The name had been Haven.