I loved that excerpt, would love to read more. How far are you into that?
Here's an excerpt on something I'm currently working on. More specifically, it's a chapter, one I just finished.
XIV
Where... am I? My eyes finally opened, albeit in such a tepid fashion that it must have lasted an ill gotten eternity. Am... I finally dead? Her words were like a blade through my streak, so much in ultimate affliction that I had been decimated by mere morphemes alone.Poetic justice. There was a blank void before me, my mind going a-blank. I tried to move, but I could do nothing but witness inevitability. I can't move. "Become one with me!" her metallic voice had rumbled. I tried to silence the words, but I had quickly forgotten that I couldn't place my hands over my ears. My hands, my entire frame, my own will with a lack of autonomy; it was all in vain. "Abandon all hope. Submit to the thread of destiny" her shrewd diction had annotated. Her voice, no matter how much I despised it; her beauty, her radiance, she must have been of the beatitudes, but her tone had been Luciferian. I had originally mistaken her to be of the Seraphim, but she was a messenger of death, but for me.
My death, mine alone. She had come to undo any and all discretion on my part. Destiny she called it. I wanted it to end. I can't take this anymore. For all I knew, I could have been experiencing an out-of-body experience. However, the euphoric fright in experiencing such is that one knew it wasn't real. I would always wake up from a dream long remembered. One need only beat the sands of time, watch the sand quickly sift to the bottom before the nightmarish charade finally took its bow; the performance finally having ended. But that was not so. I couldn't get up, not on my own accord. I'm... I'm not dreaming.
This... it has to be dream. It must be. I still tried to deny fate, fate had been what she had called it. Denying always made life easier. If I even had one at this point. I still remember her voice, that demoniac chill still running throughout, my very essence of being now compounded beyond all comprehensibility. "What you desire is not palpable. Everything you've told yourself, Everything you've made yourself out to be; You, and everything You've lived is nothing more than an ill-gotten figment of a delusion having gone far longer than expected" her metallic, torpid inflection thundered like a train that kept a-running. Even now, the walls of this damnable prison still boomed her murmur. Her voice. How could such cruel designation be from within her? That radiant, blue hair of the arctic, those carmine pupils enamoring me before all envision of her took its bow. It echoed once more. I'm a fraud.
A mere pawn on the chess board that had been engineered, all movement predicted, for what could have been the beginning of all frame of time as I knew. Mine anyway. "You are like me. But you are not like me. I have no name, a blank slate with nothing to ever be inscribed; I am the orifice that need be fulfilled by a name. An identity". Yes, now I remember. That's when she extended her hand, her pupils dilated and I saw the spiral, the eye of the tornado, and all free will subject to its ultimate tenacity.It pulled me in, I could do nothing as I witness all . My life froze before my very eyes; all essence shattered.Then I woke up. As reminiscence of a prior moment ended, momentum commenced.
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