Hello everyone, and welcome back to another “Commentaries”! And I have absolutely nothing to talk/rant about. Which is nothing new. Half of time, this blog is just whatever I want to talk about. But, as of today’s writing…I have NOTHING. So, instead, I want to share something with you all. I have dabbled at creating fiction before, but I haven’t done so in a very long time. Until recently. I found a page on Tumblr, Writing Prompts, and they had one that I absolutely wanted to try out. So, below, is the first little bit of the story that I was writing. It’s probably not that good, but, it is what it is I suppose. Enjoy!
“In an effort to ward off Death and live forever, you have created a safe room filled with all kind of talismans, good luck charms, and magic circles. It doesn’t work: The Reaper found you anyway and you die just the same. Only, now neither of you can seem to get out past all the wards.”
The house is dark. Quiet. Still. Way, way too still. The doorway is cool, as is the rest of the house on this snow-fallen December night. One could smell the hint of the frosty air underneath the familiar scents of the house. But, there’s something…else. Something sinister. Something…deadly. Nothing will harm me here though. Deep within the confines of my basement is my safe room. That is where I spend all my time, and where I plan to spend all of it, for all eternity. I’m afraid of death. I don’t want to cross over to the other side. So, I holed up in my basement, locked away in a den that I’ve modified. Heating, plumbing, food and water storage, I have it all. All the amenities one needs to be a hermit, and three steps up from living in a cave.
Every window is locked and sealed; every exterior door barricaded, except one. Once a week, I have to step outside to pick up my supplies. Ordered online, delivered next door, and brought over by my next door neighbor’s family. This is the only time I have to step outside. Ever. Otherwise, I only have to leave my safe room once a day to check to make sure that the doors and windows are sealed. Some might call it unnecessary; some might say it’s not enough. But, I think it’s just the right amount. It’s just a small amount of movement to take a chance with. Anything helps the ol’ circulation.
The safe room is a pretty standard one-room apartment, with the bathroom partitioned off. It’s plain, dull, and perfect for what I need it for: a safe haven. For you see, I fear death. I’m afraid to die. Ironically, I want to see the world. But, I’m too paranoid to travel further than the porch. Before I stopped going out, I would see this tall, cloaked figure standing off a ways from the crowd; features obscured by the dark hood pulled over their face. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. It was three years ago at the time, and I would only notice this figure on occasion. But, the sightings increased in frequency, until it was almost daily. Then, a year ago, I had my first personal encounter.
That’s where I left off. I do plan on making more progress. Until next time, I am the Baumeister, and I have been, obediently yours.