Might as well post my writings here, hope somebody enjoys.

This is my first real shot at a first person perspective. If anyone has any suggestions, please tell me, since I'd love to improve at this writing style.

Samson and the Spider

Groaning from the pain in my skull, I opened my eyes and blinked, groggily. It took a few seconds for me to realise that I was upside down. Give me a break, you’d be kinda woozy too if you’d been knocked out, then come to suspended from the ceiling by your ankles. My hands were tied behind my back too. I automatically tried to shrink and get out of the bonds, but it seemed that my wings had been torn off as well, so my magic wasn’t worth shit. Perfect. Fucking perfect. I didn’t recognise my surroundings, but I was in some room with no windows, and pipes and things coming out of the walls and ceiling. My antennae twitched nervously, it didn’t seem a nice place to be held captive.

“Oh, how pleasant of you to join us.” came a soft, friendly voice from behind me.

I tried to spin around, but all that accomplished was me spinning around and getting even more dizzy. I gave up, and hung limply. The man who’d spoken slowly walked around to look down on me, a smirk on his black and white face. Even though I was very disorientated, and he was standing on the floor while I hung from the ceiling, I’d recognise that gaudy jacket and black and white body anyday.

Shit. HIM.

“I’m awfully sorry about your current position, it must be rather uncomfortable. I suppose it’s a small consolation that you’ll be out of it soon enough, eh, my boy?” chuckled the monster in a sinister British accent, patting me on the cheek. Creepy fucker. Hope he catches cancer.

“Uh... Yeah, I am kiiiinda getting a headache... Any chance you could tie me the right way up? I don’t wanna hurl on your floor or anything like that...” I giggled nervously, trying to sound a lot more lighthearted than I felt.

“Oh, I’m afraid not. You see, I’m really not all that fond of the taste of Fairy blood, it’s far too sweet. So I’m going to cut your throat in a few minutes so it comes out. I really am sorry, it’s not the way to go that I’d choose, but I’d get sick otherwise. I do hope you understand.” he said, smiling down at me with ugly-ass teeth that would make a Great White jealous, and a tone that could be used for discussing the weather.

I tried hard to stay calm. I was sure he could hear my heart going crazy. Forcing a smile on my face, I tried reasoning with him. “Ha! You’re a riot. But come on man, you can do better than me! I mean, I’m all stringy and stuff, probably. How about you let me go and I’ll bring you back some nice, juicy humans? Or nekos, or whatever you want.” I said, trying not to look at his lower body, which looked even more freaky from my upside-down position.

The monster smirked, looking ever-so-slightly more cruel than usual. “Silly boy, you think this is about food? I’m perfectly capable of catching my own lunch, though thank you for the offer anyway. No, the reason I chose you is because you injured me rather grievously three weeks ago. I trust you know what I am talking about?” he said quietly, his freaky face very close to mine.

I gulped. I knew exactly what the crazy fuck was rambling about. A few weeks ago, he’d offed another faerie from my group, and then had the nerve to casually march right through the middle of the forest with the corpse, seeming to be completely oblivious to ten angry faeries surrounding him. We hadn’t attacked him at first. He seemed so confident, he HAD to have a trick up his sleeve. None of us had wanted to find out exactly what it was, but a couple of the girls had started nagging me to test him.

“Come on ya wuss, look at him! He’s bluffing. Go tap him on the head, I dare ya.” said Celeste, her pink wings fluttering nervously.

“Yeah, don’t be such a baby, Samson! We’re right here, what could possibly happen?” coaxed another girl.

I stared miserably down at the drider and his gory prize. I was pretty near the bottom of the pecking order in the group, so naturally it was me who had to hunt for food the most, distract the tonorian that was trying to kill us all, and now, I had to fly down and confront the creepfuck who’d just murdered one of our lot. Or of course, I could do the wussy thing and stay hidden, but then I’d have even less than zero chance of scoring with Celeste.

“Oh all right, if no-one ELSE is gonna do it, I suppose I’ll just have to...” I said dramatically and loudly, hoping that all the group could see how tough I was going to be. I flew out of the trees, hovering high over the drider’s head. I didn’t think he could see me. Perfect.

I flew as close behind him as I could, until I was just a metre or two away from him. I looked down at my boots, which I’d stolen from a snack the other day. They had metal caps. Just the right thing for kicking ugly spiders in the head.

Letting out a loud war-cry, I booted the guy in the back of the head, immediately flying way out of his reach and laughing in a mix of terror and amusement. Turing back, I watched his reaction, which wiped the grin off my face. He hadn’t fallen over, wasn’t clutching his skull, nothing. He’d just frozen. Then, very slowly, he turned around, looking up at me and meeting my eyes.

“Samson, wasn’t it? I’ll be seeing you later.” he said, giving a slight bow, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he turned around and walked away, as though nothing had happened. You have to admit, he was a cool customer. I hadn’t really thought about him since then, at least till he popped out of nowhere while I was out hunting, and tapped me on the head. Then I’d woken up tied to the ceiling.

“Sooo... the only reason you caught me and tied me up was cause I kinda kicked you in the head? Come on man, it was only a joke! You know that, right?” I said, forcing a smile on my face and meeting his eyes, which wasn’t easy from how I’d been tied up. I’d just noticed that his freakish smile never seemed to leave his face, even when he seemed pissed, like now. Somehow, that was a lot more disturbing than if he’d been snarling at me.

The drider chuckled, ruffling my hair. From anyone else, that could have been seen as friendly, but coming from him, it felt more like molestation. I tried not to shudder.

“Well, I do need to eat, you know. You wouldn’t want me to starve, would you? Oh, that reminds me...” he said, taking a nasty-looking knife out from one of his pockets. “I’d advise you to relax your neck muscles, otherwise I’ll be sawing away at them, and it’ll take twice as long.” He said, pressing the cold blade against my throat.

Not surprisingly, I freaked. “GODDAMNIT YOU SADISTIC FUCK, LEMME GO! OH GOD, HELP ME, PLEASE, ANYONE HELP ME...” I screamed until my lungs hurt, thrashing desperately in the hopes that someone would hear me. The drider seemed unfazed, merely standing back and watching until I fell still, gasping for breath. I glared up at him, actual tears in my eyes. He smiled down at me.

“P-please man, I’m really, REALLY sorry. C-come on, I don’t wanna die...” I whimpered, long past the point of caring about my image, if there was any chance I could make the bastard feel a little pity.

“Of course you don’t. No-one does.” he said calmly, leaning down and holding the knife dangerously close to my neck again. I decided to have a shot at talking to him, cause then maybe I could distract him from slicing my fucking neck open. For a while, at least.

“N-no-one? But what about those, y’know, emo kids? They always whine about how they want to die and stuff...” I said weakly. His eyes narrowed. Oh fuck, shit I said something wrong...

“Emo? Is that what they’re called? Argh, I know exactly what you mean. Covered in piercings, horribly dyed hair, and appalling clothes... Honestly, one of the pests came down here the other day and followed me around, asking me to ‘End the pointlessness that was their life.’ And I swear, the SECOND I took my knife out, it had an abrupt change of heart and started blubbering. Argh, the state of youth today... We never had people like that in a few years ago...” he ranted, waving his knife around in irritation.

Well... I thought that was a good start. Listening to the old geezer complain about stuff was better than him killing me, at least. “R-really? Yeah, I’m sure things were better back then. I kinda wish I was born back then, most people my own age annoy me.” I said, lying through my teeth. Old stuff and old people suck ass.

The creepfuck rambled on and on about boring crap for about ten minutes. I just smiled and nodded. You have to admit, I think I was doing pretty well. I mean, sure, I wasn’t listening to him, but at least I hadn’t passed out from the blood going to my head, or something. Suddenly, he asked me a question.

“Your name... It’s Samuel, or Samson, isn’t it?” he asked, tilting my chin to make me look at him.

“Yeah, Samson. Oh, sorry, I forgot to ask you yours.” I said, having figured out that he seemed to approve of good manners. Waste of bloody time, in my opinion.

“Oh, I’m called the Butcher. I don’t much like it though, it’s a silly, generic nickname I didn’t pick myself. Please, call me Mr. B.” He said, holding my chin in one hand and picking up his knife with the other.

Shit. Shit. Not this again.

“C-come on! I told you I was real sorry about that stuff before, and I promise I won’t do it again! Pleaaase don’t do that!” I yelped, thrashing around again.

The monster, Mr. B, sighed, actually sounding weary, and not as smug as usual. “Hush now Samson, don’t make this any harder on both of us. I’m actually feeling rather bad about this, you know.”

The knife pressed against my skin. He started to move his hand, I felt the blade dig into me, drawing blood...

Then there was a knock at the door.

“OWWWW! ARGH! DAMNIT!” I yelled, more in shock and fear than pain. The cut wasn’t deep, but man, it stung. Mr. B looked at the door and lowered the knife, apparently rather put-out at being interrupted. He got up and walked towards the door, grumbling.

I watched as he walked to the door, hoping against hope that it was someone to rescue me. If there was any justice in the world, they’d also tie the creepy fucker up and wave knives in HIS face. See how he likes it.

My face fell when he opened the door, and a short, middle-aged human woman was there, less than half the drider’s height. Not exactly the rescuer I was imagining. Mr. B didn’t seem surprised to see her.

“Ah Damsel. You know, I have asked you before not to interrupt me when I’m in the middle of things...” he grumbled, nodding towards poor little me. The woman looked at me, disapproval in her eyes.

“Ach, are ye playin’ wit’ yer food? Again? Ah told ye tae stop that, the screams get on me nerves.” she said, not seeming at all frightened of the flesh-eating spider monster. He grumbled something unintelligible.

“Ah, don’ be like that. Ah heard some news, ‘Parrently there’s a sweet little drider hunter hangin aroond the woods just ootside a’ town. Ah thought ye might like tae go show him how ye treat his kind.” she said in a thick accent I couldn’t identify, a smirk on her face.

Huh. Apparently Mr. B had a pet human who gathered information for him. The more you know.

“Oh, is that so? Thank you dear, that sounds rather fun. I suppose I’d better go get ready.” smiled Mr. B, sounding genuinely pleased. He patted her on the shoulder, and she left, nodding a goodbye to him. He walked over to me, seeming in a bit of a hurry. I trembled, unsure of what the prick was going to do to me now. He patted me on the back, looking cheerful.

“Well, good news, Samson! It looks like I’ve found someone to replace you. I’m really very pleased about this, as I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?” he said, fiddling with the ropes round my ankles.

“Y-yeah! Completely! Thank you, sir!” I babbled, giving a yelp as I started to fall. Thankfully he caught my foot in time to stop my head getting smooshed into the ground. Thanks, Mr. B. If only you hadn’t knocked me out, kidnapped me and scared the shit out of me, I’d be grateful.

“Well, run along now. And no kicking me in the head again, please.” said Mr. B sternly, putting be back on my feet. I swayed dizzily, the blood going back out of my head.

“Uh... thanks a lot, Mr. B. I won’t kick ya in the head again, sure.” I said, walking unsteadily towards the door. Mr. B nodded in a pleased way.
“The exit is the third door on the right, that way.” He said, pointing. “Well, I must be off now. Stay out of trouble.” he said cheerfully, before hurrying off somewhere else.

I stumbled along the way he’d told me, slowly calming down. Heh, I’d beaten the big freak at his own game, hadn’t I? He’d been no match for MY tactics. Swaggering a bit, I finally reached the door he’d pointed me towards, and opened it. Ah- it lead outside. Sweet, sweet freedom! Now all I needed to do was survive a day or two till my wings grew back, and I’d be back to my group of faeries with a hell of a story to tell them.

As I walked out the door, I noticed a small pot-plant next to it. Ah, Mr. B likes plants, does he? As I left, I sniggered and threw the pot at the wall, smashing it. Heh heh heh. I sure showed him.



THE MORAL OF THE STORY: Peer pressure is a very bad thing. Also, Mr. B is a creeper.

Hehe, I like Samson and Mr. B. They have a certain style that you just don't see much of round these parts. I love how nothing actually happened in the story, but it was fun to follow anyway.


......... Sillysausage?

Why do I have a feeling Dlausactor is partly to blame for this?

K, will upload this as I finish segments of it, then it'll go on DA

Samson's bad day part one

Samson wasn't having a good day. Yesterday, he'd been kidnapped by a creepy cannibal, and nearly chopped up and made into sausages, and today he was sitting in a rotten tree stump getting his ass soaked with mould while he waited for his ripped wings to heal.

He really, really didn't like spiders. He was certain of that now, with a big fat one making a web connected to one of his antennae. Whole fucking spider race was out to get him. At least, that's what it felt like.

Moving the spider off his head very carefully, he took a peek outside. It had stopped raining at least, but the ground was all muddy, and it was a little colder than usual. He didn't really want to move out of the (relative) safety and dryness of his hidey-hole, but if he waited till it dried out then all of the bigger, nasty things that would take a bite of him would be more likely to be out and about too.

So, sighing sullenly, our hero crawled out the rotten tree and set out, looking nervously around and over his shoulder at every opportunity.

Although Samson was a faerie, generally one of the top predators, his currently ruined wings were no use for flying or magic. It didn't help that he wasn't the best at magic either, with his attempts to shrink things often not working at all, or worse, horribly backfiring. He just didn't seem to be very lucky.

Keeping an eye out for hungry insects or other dangers, the fairy hurried along. Gradually he began to recognize some of the landmarks around him, and started to calm down... at least, he calmed down a little. Letting your guard down too much in Felarya wasn't a good idea. Besides, he was still a long way from home yet.

Samson was usually used to flying, so had never learned to pay much attention to the ground. So, when something suddenly nipped him on the toe, he let out a piercing shriek of surprise and leapt about a metre into the air before landing on his arse.

Scrabbling at the ground with all four hands to push himself up, he stared at what had bitten him... and relaxed, somewhat. At least they didn't look too intimidating.

Glaring fiercely at him, about a metre away, were five ant-creatures, the tallest of them nearly seven centimetres.

"Halt, intruder! State your name and business!" snapped the tallest ant-thing.

I really enjoyed these. Mr.B and Samson are very fun characters to follow i stories. Great work^^

Dang that's some of the best stuff I've ever read! I love it!

Finally got a round to reading this. I'm glad I did, it's written well and has good content. I especially like the first one, you do well in first person.