Beneath Black Blood

Beneath Black Blood- Chapter 3


How does time pass?

Without hesitation or regret,

Brief or long.

Time waits for no man,

How we perceive life is how we perceive time,

Fun is fast, sad is slow.

———-Alexia Barrett, 2017 (Author)——-

Chapter 3-  Irony

As I slept deeper than the dead I felt healthy, alive. All that pain that was there before was gone. So I opened my eyes to the world; but there was darkness and a bump, a rocking sound?  The darkness was complete, there was no light, it wrapped around me from all sides, slowly suffocating me.   

What was that noise? Bump, bump, bump. Bump, bump, bump. There it was again. Where was it coming from? Wait. Where was I? I remember drifting off while staring at the sky, but that was it. As I thought this I raised my hands above my head to feel my surroundings. My hands almost immediately came in contact with a roof.

As I felt around, I became certain I was in some-kind of box thing.

I gently pushed the nailed lid that was above my head, but it didn’t budge. Frustrated, I tried again, pushing harder this time.

The lid groaned like a banshee on the lake, and then literally went flying off its hinges. I gasped, half in awe of my own strength, the other half of me because of the blinding light that filled my eyes and the box I was in.

When I sat up, I took note of my surroundings. I was in a dreary chamber, no not a chamber a morgue, that’s walls of cold grey metal sent shivers through the room; sitting inside a coffin.

I had died? There were other coffins laid around on the marble floor waiting to be buried. There were bodies on shelves, draws with name tags on them, and a gigantic incinerator; an incinerator that my coffin was in a line waiting to be thrown into.

I could have been burned. I stood up then. All rational thinking aside, I just wanted to get out of there, out of this pathetic box.

My coffin was made of poorly cut oak wood, with a question mark as my title. It made me feel slightly miffed off, seeing it. How could they think I was dead?  I mean at least put some effort in before you decide to bury someone. As I looked down in disdain I saw a mirror hidden among the wall, discarded, and found myself looking at the reflection.

I was slim yet toned, my skin was very pale, paler then the snow or that girl’s icy grin. My hair was the same colour  although it had red streaks, but I quickly realised they were blood stains. My blood? My eyes, in my opinion were my most defining feature, like black pools.

Moving on, they had dressed me in a white shabby oversized funeral suit, now they were really taking the mick. Huh, oh well, it didn’t really matter. The fact was, I was in a dangerous place, sitting in a morgue run by weird people, and I didn’t remember anything prior to waking in the ice. Forget the funeral decorations; there were better things to worry about. Well I had some sketchy memories and emotions that flashed with images representing the same things. But it was all messed up, I didn’t even know my own age.

However I knew one thing that turned my frown upside down, and that was my name. Mex Cillian. For some reason it had clanged in my head, and I had known it to be mine. See everything solved, although there was the question of why. Why was I in a pool of my own blood, a second from death? Why was I still alive? Who are my helpers? Of course the more I mused, the more I knew I wouldn’t find the answer.

And then, bump, bump, bump. There was that pesky sound again. It was the shaking of my ‘coffin’; not only my coffin but everyone’s. They were all reacting to the vibrations coming from the ground. Beneath my feet and the marble floor, almost harmonious vibrations, that was barely noticeable. Barely making any difference, as it was quieter than the falling of dust. Yet it was louder than anything, it rang clearer than all the sounds in my head. How had I not noticed; it lifted and fell like symmetrical waves and shaped in a way that matched the rhythm of my heart. It felt so natural, where was it coming from?

I looked around but saw nothing that could be a possible cause in the room. But  luckily discovered a door, (okay I probably would of inevitably found the door anyway- but blame luck.) the door was as morbid as the room, it had a big cross on it with a skull- how cliché- and at the bottom a joke which the author probably thought was amusing but only their mother would laugh at. It went something like ‘if dead don’t leave the room, if alive leave through the exit.’

No I was wrong, even their mother would doubt their child.

Just sad, but strangely appropriate considering my own conditions- and I was pretty sure I was alive, key factors to prove this are,

  • I can feel my breath on my palm
  • I have a reflection
  • I’m wearing clothes
  • I don’t see my body lying anywhere
  • Also I’m warm and look perfectly healthy.

All these facts were obvious as day, though the points made me question why they were going to burn me, though strangely I did feel like death before. So much so that I would of burned me. But why am I here now feeling like a new born baby.

Stop thinking, that’s what I should do, if I keep thinking about it I might actually just die. I’ll find the answer eventually, if I believe that I will be okay.

Firstly I needed to get out of these cheesy old clothes.

A big closet was in the room, and as I opened it in simple curiosity, as if a sign sent by somebody, I found clothes. It dawned on me then that they must be funeral clothes for presenting the deceased. I felt like scum as I stole those clothes, but it didn’t matter. I needed clothes, for some reason this suit felt sticky, it itched and clung to my body even though it was big and loose, also the colour clashed with my skin and hair. Which was a vain thought- I know- but it was true

I looked through the clothes; there were general old things, like frocks from the last century maybe. Now that I thought about it; I didn’t even know the date or the time. My memories which I still had were from different years, completely                     

Different eras even. Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh, what am I going to do? I feel lost, empty even; with confusing memories and almost no motivation. Why did I even care about clothes? Maybe I should just crawl back into that coffin.

But what was I saying; there is hope and a way. I didn’t have either however, but I am certain, I am going to get through this. Even if I had to wing-it and see what happens. I had a feeling that whatever was thrown at me I wasn’t going to die from it. I couldn’t perhaps; and from how widely spread my messed up memories were. I believed I’d lived a lot longer than any normal person; no even longer than that. So I was going to be fine.

As I took off the awful suit I was wearing, I found what made it so uncomfortable, what made me feel slightly sick. My own blood, the suit was covered in it. As if as well as putting it on me, they had used it as a towel to clean me up and then dumped it. I doubted that that was the case though, more likely this was afterwards. I had a feeling that while I was in my coffin I had done this. Another mystery but anyway, I then hid the suit inside my coffin.

From the clothes I chose, the most simple clothes I could find were the denim jeans and a black ‘I am dead’ shirt with a leather army jacket.

Hopefully this looked right, even if it didn’t I wouldn’t of changed. I wasn’t bothered enough, plus something had snagged my interest. When I had first noticed the personal drawers each coffin had, my mind had only drifted on that fact. I was thinking of looking inside but it would have been wrong, literally beyond an invasion of privacy. What I hadn’t noticed though, until just recently was that I had my own drawer. It had the crudely carved question mark and everything.

For some reason I didn’t want to look inside. However I wanted to know what total strangers would leave to remember me by.

With caution, I strode towards the draw. I pulled it open slowly, ready for whatever. But my suspicions dropped when I saw the file inside. I sighed, and thought that I might as well open it. I gathered the crisp card file in my hands. It was as light as I expected it to be. And opened it, thinking I would find some document. However I fell back in disgust and morbid fascination.

The file hadn’t contained documents but pictures; pictures of me on the frozen wasteland, pictures of me on the trolley, pictures of me dead. Dead.

I nearly crumpled those images, my body the definition of mess. My head was so scratched up and bloody (like it had been bashed in), my hair so matted with that blood that I couldn’t even identify myself. I had inch deep gashes all over my anatomy, my arms and legs seemed heavily burnt, and a bone (maybe a rib or two) was sticking out of my chest.  

I remembered that boy who had tried to look over me. Why had he? Only a glance would have told him I didn’t have long. You didn’t have to be a doctor.

With that thought in mind, I slid the gruesome pictures into the file and dumped it into the drawer and shut it. I didn’t have a goal but I felt a weird sense of determination. It was now time to leave this room.

I opened the door and looked out with apprehension to find no one. The corridor I emerged into was brightly lit and the vinyl walls it had, added to the effect of a sunny space. It was a lot more positive then the dreary room I had been in.

The corridor was long and either left or right sides were both turning corners to a different place. I randomly picked right and edged along the corridor, my hands scraping the smooth wall and my bare feet shuffling along. Following the vibrations that shook the ground like a trail of golden string. As I went along though I felt my muscles instinctively tense. I began to develop the feeling of being watched. I sharply looked up, my eyes wandering, not seeing anything but then they zeroed in. A camera, how dumb was I? I should have known there would be cameras; well there was no point creeping along now. So I began walking as lf I had always been there, as if I owned the place, but a sinking feeling in my gut told me it was a bit late. I knew I had been watched too long, and staring at the camera originally may have already given the game away. I turned a bend, only to see another camera staring at me; this time felt different though. I was seeing the camera, no; my eyes were going beyond it.  


Inside a dark room illuminated in red, was a security system, as if being the camera, no being in the room. I viewed the fat man, my eyes shifting positions like a panning video. Looking at the big room, observing the occupant with the label ‘Barney’ on his jump-suit; drinking coffee while watching the monitor for camera one-thousand-eight-hundred-and-nine. He spat the coffee out in watery torrent when he saw me, and instantly took a phone which was on the side. Yep I was doomed.

I didn’t quite understand what I had done, or how I was doing it. But it felt natural, normal for me anyway. Something I had done before, my mind still a part of me but it felt like my soul was detached. As I thought this I lost concentration and my mind reeled back. My head physically snapping back with the shock, I shook; as it took a while for me to get back to my senses. This was my chance, a few precious seconds to escape.

While the man was on the phone I sprinted. Get away from all the cameras, but each one had a different person watching.  Run, it was the only way to escape Beep, beep, and beep “intruder alert…..Intruder alert”

Great, just great, really this was the last thing I wanted.

I panicked; I really didn’t know what to do, I just didn’t want them to find me. I couldn’t help recalling that girl named Liz, and the methods she wanted to try on me. If I was captured then I was more than likely going to have an unpleasant encounter with her. I was more than hoping that the nice boy would find me, and well just help. But I can’t rely on others. Something told me I had issues in the past with trust.

I turned left, then right, right and left through the corridor that didn’t seem to end. Meanwhile being harassed, harassed by the sounds, the enemy, coming towards me in every direction I went. My ears were sensitive somehow, sensitive to every noise.

Eventually I ended up at a cross roads, the sound of the creeping soldiers like cockroaches crawling in my mind, coming from each direction. I wanted to be swallowed whole by the ground just to get away. But then some primal instinct told me to hurt them, anger them for causing me distress. To destroy, destroy? Destroy; destroy them, to stop them in their search. Although all I can do is run, but for some reason I couldn’t run anymore, the panic inside me leaving me petrified as it grew more and more.

Why, why, why?

I couldn’t think, my brain in turmoil, my body not paying attention to my commands.

As I stood I noticed it again, I could still here those vibrations that moved beneath my feet still. It synched with my heart, resonated with it in fact. Even as my beats per minute increased tenfold. It shook and I shook, it rose with my panic as I began to feel faint. The vibrations were louder now, like throbbing in my head. Slammed, I slammed against the wall, my knees buckling from the weight in my mind. Pounding with the graceful melody of an archangel’s flute, its insightful tune

Making me feel fallen, blurring the world in my eyes.

At that point the soldiers came, it was the same characters in black, I couldn’t see them clearly but I could tell. There were more than before coming from each direction. I could feel their minds getting ready to fight but they faltered, halting in their tracks when the saw me. All this chaos and alarms for one boy, they thought. Wait, I could hear their thoughts, pressing down on me like a writhing mass. The thought, their minds,

‘Who is this boy?’

‘Why is he here?’

‘What’s he doing here?’

‘Is he alright?’

All these questions came at once. I could see in their minds eye. Their perspective of me on the ground shaking. My hair tousled and my eyes flashing. The light in my eyes were gone and they were bewitchingly dark, going uniquely red rimmed at odd moments. I was scaring the soldiers, (I was scaring myself), and they began to retreat backwards. Except for the leader, she was there, again, again standing with that boy. They held their ground, although it was obvious they were freaked, their minds telling me what lurked behind the bravery.

Only one person wasn’t struck with fear, it was that Liz girl, and her mind was truly terrifying, she was apart from the rest. And beheld proud thoughts tainted with the sick realization of the torture she was planning for me, methods. She had that disturbing smile again. I was tasting fear.

All I could see was her and her smile, her and that warped grin, her and her evil, making me panic harder than I thought was possible. And when I reached breaking point, then an anomaly occurred, the lights implanted on the ceiling began to flicker and creak like an old man. The vibrant walls peeled back and greyed, turning into depression that sliced your heart. The bright corridor was now a grim area.  Filled with stale air pushing into another corridor like a spreading disease.

And only then did my mind calm. I knew what to do… what I was going to do. 

Hello it’s Alexia! Getting exciting isn’t it 🙂

Thank you for visiting Lexi’s Story Zone.





Beneath Black Blood

Beneath Black Blood- Chapter 2


Only one colour, but not one size;

Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies;

Present in sun, but not in rain;

Doing no harm and feeling no pain.

——DR, Ernest Drake, 1912————

Chapter 2- Without Memory

You know when you wake up, suddenly without a thought in the world, not remembering anything whilst enjoying the bliss of your dream. And then a second later the alarm bells start ringing in your head, and you begin to wonder. Who am I?

Usually you wake up and rub away any tiredness; usually you get on with your life. Well I wish I could say the same for me. No matter how many times I tried, when I woke up. In a place- which was an obvious far cry from a bed- I knew instantly that from then on I would be thinking. Who am I?

At first I was just aware, aware of my surroundings.

I wasn’t asleep, nor was I awake, it was like I was observing.

I was in a place covered in ice; snow fell down heavily masking the mysteries in the distance. I felt like I was in pain, but it was like an afterthought. I was hurting but I felt nothing.

All I can really say was that my thoughts were barely making sense to myself.

I didn’t know my situation but I knew I had been abandoned, brittle, bitter, and breaking, my broken body staring at the magenta night with stars above.

The night sky looked down like a doting friend with loving eyes; benign, yet cold and absolutely transfixing. It was overwhelming, like a double edged sword rather than a setting, a place which would kill you as you fell in love for it.

‘The first and last thing I may see.’

My mind continued to drift, thinking on one subject while dabbling in another. For example, have you ever noticed how you can think on one thing but be thinking of twenty different things at the same time without realising it. Or how strange it is when your attention is caught by something insignificant like ant. That was how I felt, a tranquil peace where I could be anything or think anything. I wanted it to last forever, in this carelessness which felt alien to me. I knew what was what, what was strange and what was not. Nothing made any sense but I didn’t want sense. I wish you could feel what I felt then.

Through wind rain and greater blizzards, as night turned to day then day turned to night. I have no idea how long I lay there, in absolute peace.

But peace is brief, just like silence, it will break. And eventually my peace shattered. You wish that disturbance would disappear, shut up, and be silent. You don’t know how much I wished that.

I emerged into the real world.

The real world

I felt tears leaking down my cheeks.

The real world isn’t much different from the world I was in before, though before I was only half conscious, now I was properly awake. The pain I had noticed before was suddenly raking all over my body and above all of that some girl was yelling next to me- and not the nice kind of yelling.

It had been screaming that had stunned me into focus “Aaaaaaaaah” again and again.

Shut up, I wanted to cry, but no sound came from my throat. Make it stop, that was all I wanted, the ringing was killing my head, I felt as if I would explode. Spontaneously combust into flames; but as much as I wanted the sound to stop I was too weak to do anything about it. So frail, that all I could do was lie on the cold ground.

I heard hurried footsteps coming my way, they sounded muffled through the snow, but I could feel the beat and rhythm of the steps inside my head. As if the ground shook with them and my body resonated with that tingling, the irregular beat like an army approaching me.1,2,3,4,……..Maybe 29 or 30 people, but why? I couldn’t care less though, that gnawing numb I had felt before, was slowly leaving me and turning into more burning pain. That sent a tingle from deep within. It was like my body was fighting for release and losing the war. The pain just increased my irritation, first the piercing screams and now this. What next, why do I deserve this?

“Stop screaming”,

A stern voice had broken through the cries, and the grateful silence that ensued became my salvation.

“Liz what is it? Are you okay? Your panic button was pressed over fifty times….. It’s not safe out here, what’s wrong? Are there enemies around?”

A guy, maybe in his early twenties , I wasn’t sure. Came running from the crowd of 29- or more-who were slowly approaching my line of sight.

The girl yelling was caucasian, had startling green eyes, and her head was thickly hooded; her lithe frame padded to warmly protect against the biting cold.

Her expression however, was not as warm, it drew me in though. It was a look of horror, shock, disgust, and glee all mixed together. Unlike anything the look gave fear to my own heart, especially because of her smile. What a disturbing smirk was wrapped on her face, even as she had screamed; that ugly smirk seemed to take over her head. Her creepy smile didn’t falter until the boy rushed over distracting her from me.

The boy was dressed inside the same wrapped clothing- although his were of black leather and more refined. He ran up to that girl, and cupped her face in his hands- completely ignoring me.

“Are you okay? Please talk, what’s wrong?”  He asked, but she just shrugged him off. Making his eyes glimmer with an emotion I failed to recognise as he turned away from her, and only then, did his pestering questions stop.

“Oh” was all he said, he had- diligently I might add- finally spotted me. The cause for commotion, I wasn’t sure what I looked like, I barely remembered my name, forget appearance. But I must have seemed pretty disgusting. Probably even worse then I felt, because the looks they both gave me made me feel like a lab rat in an experiment.

He stared at me with a face that slowly coloured pale green to match the colour of his eyes, like he was going to be sick. His eyes were the same as the girl’s except duller, less emotional, lime instead of a dark green pit. Despite this they looked strangely similar, well apart from the fact that his face was obviously more kind and honest.

Ha, they almost made me want to laugh. These people, these circumstances, literally everything was just so funny           

Yet not in the slightest.

“Oh my god” the boy whispered,”

He put his hand to his mouth as if to stop himself spewing or something.

“I’ve seen bodies before.” He murmured “but this, this is something else, and it’s still breathing.”

Whoa, being referred to as an ‘it’ didn’t exactly make me feel better, but he must have been exaggerating, I felt bad but not that bad.

As he stood there uselessly, the group caught up. They were clad in a warriors attire, all dressed in black leathers, same as the boy, although not as immaculate. Carrying varied weaponry, from knives, broad swords and katanas to guns. Straight to heavy machinery and a bazooka for crying out loud; of every shape and size, which also matched the group. As they seemed from all across the world from different ethnic backgrounds.

An Asian woman emerged from them- she was the obvious leader- she appeared strong and well-toned. A cold discipline and a struggled life were represented in the hardness of her eyes. If I had been thinking straight at the time, I would have considered her attractive as well as beautiful on first sight. However I was not entirely conscious- as you know-and my eyes missed her voluptuously curled blonde hair and uniquely tanned skin, or the beauty in her curved figure. All I noticed was the fact that she was the first person to make an actual sensible sentence.

“What are you just lazing about for?” she said as she pushed to the centre where I, the cause for commotion lay. She barely glanced at me, and instead of making the standard reaction which consisted of standing there dumbfounded like all the rest. She hardly blinked and carried on talking like this was an everyday thing.

“You act like you’ve never seen a body before. The eyes are still shifting slightly, he or she’s got time, get it on the trolleys and take it back to base.” she commanded, when no one stirred she continued in a bored monotone, as if repeating a line.

“Who it is and where it is from can come later. When we find someone in trouble we save them, even if we can’t help someone, we can at least give them a proper burial. Unless you all have a problem with that.” she paused and looked around, as if challenging anyone who opposed her, it wasn’t surprising that there was no opposition. The glint in her eyes told you that whether friend or foe, go against her, you die.

There was a long uncomfortable silence.

“Very well, get a move on then.” The words seeming to make the tension in the air dissolve, but a second later…

“Wait” the girl named Liz had turned her eyes towards the leader; there was an obvious viscous look on her face,

“What if it’s a spy, or a threat, I should use my methods on it” she said it with that sick smile on her face again and I didn’t like the way she twisted those syllables on ‘methods.’ It crept up my already cold body, thrilling me with strange emotions.

“We can deal with that later, there is no need for your methods” The leader spat the word. “Take a hard look at this; I doubt you could cause more pain even if you tried. I don’t trust you Liz, and if you’re interested in this than I definitely won’t let you have it”     
The girl, who I guessed was named Liz, stared at her in undisguised hatred. And for a moment it felt so tense it was like two lionesses in their prime getting ready to face off. But then strangely they both nodded in silent agreement. And as if on cue; people began to move. The other enforcement’s sending signals- analysing the area I lay in or beginning to set up some sort of trolley for me.

The boy next to Liz heavily sighed in relief; he had become anxious ever since she opened her mouth. It seemed as if he wasn’t the only one- my eyes flitted between the numerous people- everyone exhaled with relief.

When my eyes shifted back to the leader, I saw her shaking her head, the words “he doesn’t look like he’ll last longer” travelled to my ears.

Oh, so I was going to die then, at that moment all I wanted was the pain to stop, if death was the way out, let it be.

The boy however gave the leader a desperate going on to needy look- like he could help me. She stood rigid but allowed him to push past her. He slowly hopped to my side and steadily bended to his knees to gaze at me.

He stared at me in apprehension for a while, as if I would die right there and then. However I didn’t, just glared at him. His fingers began to gingerly rip open my jacket (which I hadn’t been aware I was wearing.)

“Christ.”, he muttered again, as he examined my wound or wounds it felt like. Appraising my body in surgical way, eyes scanning for hope maybe or to discover whether I was female or male and finding nothing; which was kind of disconcerting if you know what I mean.

The boy put on a forced smile,

“Hey now, don’t worry. You’re probably in a lot of pain right.” he had no idea, “But we’re here to help you, I’ve seen too many people die in this damn world. And I sure as hell won’t let another one.  So hold on a little longer, don’t go to that shining light in the sky”

What was that? Had he attempted some retarded joke to make me smile? Why is he reassuring me? It’s not gonna help, but he continued his senseless babble. Even when they lowered me on the makeshift trolley-which looked more like a hybrid of metal and dodgy fabric patches- he kept talking to distract my mind. Although it didn’t stop me seeing the blood, the blood on me, the blood I had laid in; my bruised skin as they dragged me forward. The metal on the trolley was also reflective, but I didn’t look at it, I didn’t want to know what I looked like.

And as they pulled me to a destination unknown, the ice stars and magenta sky passed mournfully overhead. I wanted to yell at my kidnapping saviours, to halt, to stop them taking me away from my peace. But I couldn’t, I didn’t have the strength. So I once again disappeared, disappeared into the murky depths of my mind.

All the while in the shadows, a seething creature watched us.

Beneath Black Blood

Beneath Black Blood – Chapter 1 (Start of part 1)

Chapter 1- Ramblings & making a mortal enemy

People don’t believe in what they deny, everything improbable is impossible and thus make-believe. Yet what is make-believe and what is real, our view on reality depends on how we perceive it. And the way we perceive the world is different depending on ourselves. There is more than one world; there is more to space and time, more than anything we can perceive or hope to understand. That is existence.


“Thank you.” She seductively whispers into my ear, like a temptress. But her eyes are cold; she emits an aura of melancholy. She wants the game to go on, the cat and mouse duo to continue their act. But I  won’t let her, I’ll never let her win, that is why I’m giving myself to her, giving her my soul, giving her my memories. Letting her sink in comfort, letting her relax as she believes that I’ve lost, letting her think she’s won. 

She leads me into a shadowed room; there is no light, a burning darkness that is so bright it blinds me. Robbing me of all sensation in my limbs, taking me to a place of eternal rest; a place she wants me to never escape. And as that door closes, the last thing I see is her eyes, those fallen eyes, those dead eyes. Then there is nothing.

There is no time, there is no space, and I am floating in nothing.

 I wait.

Because patience is a virtue, because I know how this is going to play out.

I destroy her cell of nothing; I blew her paradise sky high, the bombs going off everywhere.  And as it explodes and consumes everything, even me. I was happy, because I was the one who won.



Beneath Black Blood

Beneath Black blood- Prologue

Death feels the same emotions each day and each night. Death cries, death sighs, relieved. Relieved that the weight of life disappears at its mere blink. Though death is weighed with a burden.

“He’ll never let me go.”

The burden of debt.

We live to lie, lie to love and love to die.

The potential everything has. To decline, or to continue? Going around the same cycle of living, lying, loving, and eventually dying.

Each turn that we take, each decision- no matter how menial is made- can change our fates. Everything gives way to a new opportunity. Decision is key, it can make a man powerful or weak. It can change worlds, shape society.

Decisions define humanity.

But decision is derived from outcomes, the result of an event, and a single thing- no matter how small; which can shape that decision.

Decisions create the chained web of fate which connects us all in the end. Ultimately one choice can change your destiny and the destiny of others.

Every event is connected, the same way we are connected. 

One day I became aware of this connection, and I’ve been watching it ever since.

Watching it whilst it watches me.

Endlessly as decades became centuries and centuries millennia.

 I am everything yet nothing, human yet not. I’m one of gods little creatures.

I’m riddled with secrets.


This is the Prologue of a novel I started writing nearly 4 years ago. I’m uploading all its chapters. It’s quite an exciting story 🙂 So stay tuned

And Thank You for visiting Lexi’s Story Zone


Sinking- Chapter two

I’d travelled to Habsburg Spain, in that time it was an archaic yet necessary land for our great Empire, making sure not to be caught in a devils web, or walk into a lunatic’s murder spree, and I most definitely avoided their police or inquisitors. I am, or was, a man with sense whom prided his life.

Somehow, someway, I bartered onto a ship. They had a vacancy for a writer to scrawl the Captain’s memoirs. Captain Francisco Vázquez de Coronado, whom was on an expedition to find the mythical seven cities of gold. Damn gold.

It was a strike of luck, or un-luck as they call it perhaps. Or maybe Satan’s little demons were having a picnic with fate. Whichever I suppose doesn’t matter.

I’d ended up on a ship. A revolutionary modern monster of mighty sails. It was a Spanish Nao, utilising a high rounded stern, an aft castle, forecastle, bows sprit at the stem. Square rigged on the foremast and the main mast, latent rigged on the mizenmast. Most impressive.Personally. I’d rather of travelled a Nave, one of the stronger Spanish ships. But you get what you get, I presume. Apparently no matter the vessel the trip was equally disgusting. Horrific. With less than a chance of never touching land again.


Enough, enough, enough. I apologise for the disturbance but I need to disrupt this pleasant explanation. My enemy is coming closer. Warning shots. They’re closing in from all sides. Taunting me are they, is this fun for them? Godspeed, I must run.

I won’t let you have it, I won’t let you. With this I can get her back. I must I must, you can’t stop me. I won’t let you stop me.

I now understand the flawless gazelle that quails at human pursuers. Trapped, no way of turning back only forward. But what if there was no forward, what if there was only end. I see before me, my dear, only end.

Only an expanse of water, from what we had called, the Colorado River. At the summit. This body flowing down somewhere, probably into that Canyon, that abyss. The flow is too powerful, there is no way I can swim, there is no boat that would survive her wrath.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no….This can’t be happening, it can’t. Don’t tell me I’ll die here. Here. Oh god why here? In this defiling barbaric place. A new world, a new start, a new hope. Dumb. Stupid….bullshit. If you’re going to lie about such things, least make the lie closer to the truth. Maybe more believable. This is a savage land with savage people.

No. Not the tribesman or natives. I mean us, we’re savage.

I saw it. I saw them do it. Kill them…kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, and kill again. So creatively almost admirable how filthy they are. This isn’t our world. It wasn’t meant for us. We’re invaders spreading sickness of the body, mind, and soul. I wish killing was all I’d seen. I won’t. I can’t think of the other horrors.

I feel sick.

I feel hopeless.

They’ll put my head on a plateau and use it to feed the crows that follow them into the endless day.

I wish I’d had the strength to stop them, I wonder if anyone will know or even care about their actions.

Hello, it’s Alexia again. 🙂 I’ve been revising for my English exam all day, haha wish me luck! I already have most chapters for sinking written, and since I’ll likely be more swamped with exams next week it’s better that I post chapter two now in case I forget.



Sinking – Chapter one

Peeking over the hills was warm light that like the soft innocence in a new born child’s eye, was the sunrise. Endearing. A calling from the heavens or as common folk say, ‘a better place’. That was the sunrise. Breaking. My shattering darkness dissipating at her touch that was the sunrise. BAMM! The opening shot of a new hunt. My hunt. That was the sunrise.

In the wake of a new day there was the pattering, then even closer thudding of clasped, quality, leather boots on crisp autumn leaves. I heard it. Yes it was close causing the surprised rustle of startled animals, the eruption of migrating birds fleeing from their perches. I saw it. The breeze, with his elegant movements attracting the trees, they sensually move to his whims. His confidence, so great, he dare to caress the hard cheeks of a troubled man… such as myself. I felt it. The fear that is birthed from the elusive nature of a new day, perspiring sweat, rolling from my forehead into parched lips. I could taste it. The feeling that any time remaining for me, was slowly coming to an end. I sense it.

Hopefully, my senses are wrong.

I must hurry now, no rest for the unfortunate or wicked, as a saying goes. Unlike nature I don’t have the pleasure of playing around.

They’re coming….

closer -closer- and even closer…

Why is this happening? How did this begin? Is what you should be wondering, as I have no one else to tell I’ll take up a margin of your limited time to explain.

1539.A year that the existential desire to escape gained the better of me. And I went along with Desire’s whims with no question, like some do.

Well, we all make mistakes.

I was, maybe I still am, a Scholar, no cowboy, never the buccaneering type. I’d gone through my life in the pursuit of knowledge, looking in a straight line never back. I quite admired my convictions.

Look where that got me.  FOOL…

Why had I done it? I’d followed the unnerving wonder of rumours similar to the foolish children that followed the pied piper. Never returning. Will I never return?

Damnation, it was all the fault of the new world.

An extraordinary land with obscure treasures, unlike any that man could imagine. Unlike any they said. It aggravated me, I prided myself on the vastness of my imagination, my aptitude as one of the few learned individuals in a world such as today.

I had to go. Such a paragon! How could I not challenge! I had to abandon everything, leave what I barely had left. Empty rooms, empty cot, a full bank… a full cemetery.

It wasn’t anything special.

Maybe I was running from Mr Misery, it isn’t Adventures fault, we should leave the poor lad alone. I shouldn’t turn to Desire, it’s not like he can help tempting people. It’s a job like any other in the working world. Only I am to blame.

Alas as a Scholar I had to tempt what other lesser learned men would be too cautious to touch. As a coward, fleeing was my speciality…

Hello!!! It’s Alexia. This is the First Chapter of a short story I wrote. It is titled Sinking. It is about a Man that wanders a long way from home and gets himself into a lot of trouble when he takes what doesn’t belong to him. And in the process of fleeing he meets a demon.

I’ll update this story every Friday, stay tuned!!!