Alybrylla
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- Posted: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 18:40:37 +0000
I have a story idea that I've been sitting on for some time, but every time I consider it, all I can see is a comic. And that sucks for me becaus I'm a terrible artist.
So, I ask that if you have even a remote idea on how to draw a comic, please post an example of your work and check out my excerpt. If you like my story and I like your art, lets see how well we work together. =)
Screams echoed through a candle-lit hall, followed by a man’s deep laugh. Far underground, in the basement of a wicked manor, the man knew no one would hear the young woman’s cries for help. The only other ears the scream would reach belonged to the prisoners who were incapable of helping her, being trapped behind bars, wrapped in chains, or too feeble to help even themselves.
“Please!” the woman finally begged, “Please let me go!”
“Pathetic,” the man answered with an amused smirk. “After the fight you put up on the way down here, I expected you to last longer before begging for your life.”
Despite the man’s mocking words, his voice was smooth and almost gentle. The woman seemed to relax slightly at his voice, even knowing he was going to torture her. She knew there was little she could do about it, with her hands shackled tightly above her on the harsh stone wall. But she wasn’t giving up.
“I won’t tell you anything. Torturing me will be pointless. I doubt your precious master will be happy if you lose any of my blood,” she said boldly. “He’ll want me all for himself.”
“Our rules here in Cryler are much different from others you’ve probably heard of. You’re right that it would be a waste to torture you… in the conventional ways,” he said, “But we won’t address that just yet.”
His eyes studied the young woman, whose beauty was enough to have caught his attention that afternoon in a tavern. Very few of the women in town could match her tall stature, and where most townswomen were plain with blonde or brunette hair, this woman had fair skin with fiery-red curls. These features alone would set her above the crowd, but they weren’t what made her desirable to the Cryler family.
“So what are you waiting for?” she asked, scowling at him as he looked her over.
“I figured it would be nice to have a chat first,” he said, and the woman couldn’t tell if he was joking. “I just wanted to make a few things clear with you. You say you won’t tell me anything, but you don’t understand the full circumstances of your situation. That’s understandable considering you haven’t been in Cryler for long.”
As he spoke, his hand hovered over a table of horrifying instruments. The majority was used for piercing skin in unpleasant places, but he didn’t select any of those.
“You see, my “master”, as you put it, is a collector of sorts. You probably believe that the minute I smell your blood, I won’t be able to control myself, and you won’t have to suffer for long. Unfortunately for you, I am capable of restraining myself. I am also able to avoid spilling a single drop of your blood,” he paused as he allowed his words to sink in, waiting for her expression to change.
When there was no notable difference in her scowl, he continued. “If there is anything you’d like to tell me now, by all means, feel free to speak.”
“And if I tell you nothing?” she asked. While her expression was hard and defiant, the tone of her voice suggested fear, and the man knew he would break her in no time.
He lifted his empty hand to her cheek; her skin was soft and deceivingly youthful. It was her eyes that revealed the truth of her years; eyes that revealed her as not entirely human.
“You will suffer,” he put as much sympathy in his voice as he could muster, and he could see by her confused expression that she was falling for the façade. “If you give us the information we ask for, your time here can be made bearable. You can be treated like a guest, instead of a prisoner.”
His words seemed genuine, but then his tone changed and his expression became grim. “Deny us, and you will know the full meaning of pain.”
Then he saw full fear on her face, exactly as he had hoped for. He saw her strength waiver, her hope fail. He was able to hold back his amusement as he waited, wanting to see how long she would allow herself to be so vulnerable. He knew the longer it lasted, the easier she would be to break. Finally, after only a few seconds, the moment ended and she masked her fear with a glare. Now he allowed himself to smile; this was going to be fun.
I promise the whole story won't be so dark and depressing.
So, I ask that if you have even a remote idea on how to draw a comic, please post an example of your work and check out my excerpt. If you like my story and I like your art, lets see how well we work together. =)
Screams echoed through a candle-lit hall, followed by a man’s deep laugh. Far underground, in the basement of a wicked manor, the man knew no one would hear the young woman’s cries for help. The only other ears the scream would reach belonged to the prisoners who were incapable of helping her, being trapped behind bars, wrapped in chains, or too feeble to help even themselves.
“Please!” the woman finally begged, “Please let me go!”
“Pathetic,” the man answered with an amused smirk. “After the fight you put up on the way down here, I expected you to last longer before begging for your life.”
Despite the man’s mocking words, his voice was smooth and almost gentle. The woman seemed to relax slightly at his voice, even knowing he was going to torture her. She knew there was little she could do about it, with her hands shackled tightly above her on the harsh stone wall. But she wasn’t giving up.
“I won’t tell you anything. Torturing me will be pointless. I doubt your precious master will be happy if you lose any of my blood,” she said boldly. “He’ll want me all for himself.”
“Our rules here in Cryler are much different from others you’ve probably heard of. You’re right that it would be a waste to torture you… in the conventional ways,” he said, “But we won’t address that just yet.”
His eyes studied the young woman, whose beauty was enough to have caught his attention that afternoon in a tavern. Very few of the women in town could match her tall stature, and where most townswomen were plain with blonde or brunette hair, this woman had fair skin with fiery-red curls. These features alone would set her above the crowd, but they weren’t what made her desirable to the Cryler family.
“So what are you waiting for?” she asked, scowling at him as he looked her over.
“I figured it would be nice to have a chat first,” he said, and the woman couldn’t tell if he was joking. “I just wanted to make a few things clear with you. You say you won’t tell me anything, but you don’t understand the full circumstances of your situation. That’s understandable considering you haven’t been in Cryler for long.”
As he spoke, his hand hovered over a table of horrifying instruments. The majority was used for piercing skin in unpleasant places, but he didn’t select any of those.
“You see, my “master”, as you put it, is a collector of sorts. You probably believe that the minute I smell your blood, I won’t be able to control myself, and you won’t have to suffer for long. Unfortunately for you, I am capable of restraining myself. I am also able to avoid spilling a single drop of your blood,” he paused as he allowed his words to sink in, waiting for her expression to change.
When there was no notable difference in her scowl, he continued. “If there is anything you’d like to tell me now, by all means, feel free to speak.”
“And if I tell you nothing?” she asked. While her expression was hard and defiant, the tone of her voice suggested fear, and the man knew he would break her in no time.
He lifted his empty hand to her cheek; her skin was soft and deceivingly youthful. It was her eyes that revealed the truth of her years; eyes that revealed her as not entirely human.
“You will suffer,” he put as much sympathy in his voice as he could muster, and he could see by her confused expression that she was falling for the façade. “If you give us the information we ask for, your time here can be made bearable. You can be treated like a guest, instead of a prisoner.”
His words seemed genuine, but then his tone changed and his expression became grim. “Deny us, and you will know the full meaning of pain.”
Then he saw full fear on her face, exactly as he had hoped for. He saw her strength waiver, her hope fail. He was able to hold back his amusement as he waited, wanting to see how long she would allow herself to be so vulnerable. He knew the longer it lasted, the easier she would be to break. Finally, after only a few seconds, the moment ended and she masked her fear with a glare. Now he allowed himself to smile; this was going to be fun.
I promise the whole story won't be so dark and depressing.
