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Story Xeno's Literature


Welcome to Xeno's Literature, a place where you can enjoy (hopefully) and criticize my works.
Hopefully there will be many more pieces to come, each better than the last.
For a while, don't expect great pieces, as I'm an unskilled author, and not the most creative soul. However, I do hope you enjoy what I can come up with.

As for the first entry, it's nothing more than a snippet. A concept, maybe. If it ever takes form and becomes a full piece, I've decided to call it "14 Days."
Day 1 begin.

Jessie was walking down the street, covered in rain. She pulled her hood over her head, and began to speed up as she approached her apartment. It was late night, and the only ones left on the street were beggars and drug dealers, both of which Jessie avoided.

As she was about to enter her apartment building, a man walked out. He wore a black suit, and had a mask covering his eyes. He began running away, and shoved Jessie to the side as he passed her.

“What’s his deal?” she thought as she stepped in her building.

“Hey, do you know that man, Jessie?” Robert, the landlord, asked. “I’ve never seen him in my life, but he seemed to be in a hurry.” She replied. Robert nodded and waved, a confused look on his face.

As Jessie arrived in her room, she dropped her backpack and looked at the mirror. She was a young looking girl, no older than 17, with long, dark brown hair and a tanned face, free of flaws. She was a skinny girl, and not very tall either. Many considered her beautiful, yet she herself thought of many others as more deserving of that title.

After turning away from the mirror, Jessie noticed something on her sofa. It was a small box, made of metal, locked with a keypad.

“Now what the hell is this? I didn’t leave this here.” she thought, looking closer to examine the lock.

She noticed a number etched into the side of the box, 14, followed by 7, and then by 21. She tried these in the lock, to no avail. She then tried a different order, again with no luck. Finally, she tried inputting 7,21,14. The lock opened.

As she opened the box, a wave of cold air escapes that gives her goosebumps. When she looked inside, there was a pistol, and a note.

The note was torn, and had a red stain, presumably blood, lining the tear. It read: Jessie, take this, and prepare yourself to use it. You will need it in the days to come. On July 1st, go to the…

The stains covered the rest of the note, making it illegible.

“Well, this is great. A pistol and a note covered in blood with nothing to do about it. Who left this here… and why? I suppose practicing with this pistol couldn’t hurt.”

Jessie locked the box again, and hid it under her bed. She decided that it was time for sleep, not gunplay. As she lied down, she remembered the strange man. Could he have left it here? she wondered. After a while of thinking, she dozed off.

Day 1 end.

Second entry. It's not a continuation to the last story, however, I believe this is told much better, and is an improvement in terms of general writing skill compared to the first entry.
Xel had just finished his daily routine; Snatching wallets, fleeing from angry shopkeepers, and selling off stolen goods. His final stop for the day, The Black Cat. An underground tavern and inn, home sweet home for the thieves and scum of Marlheim.

“Welcome back, Xel. How were pickings today?” The bartend asked as he scraped a dirty mug clean.

Xel shrugged. “Nobody at town square, markets empty. Not much gain.”

As Xel arrived in his quarters, he threw off his robes, exposing a large scar crossing his waist. He stared at it, remembering how he was cut by a merchant when he had just begun his career as a thief. He was unskilled at the time, lacking finesse and cunning. Now, he was truly a master thief, fancy on his feet and an excellent shadow.

He usually kept beauteous trinkets that nobody would buy to display. During his organization process, an old pair of gloves etched with a strange symbol caught his eye.

As he grabbed them, he felt dried leather and dust throughout. Sliding the gloves on felt smooth and comfortable as if they were made for him. They felt more and more comfortable as he adjusted his hands to them. Xel decided to leave them on as he slept.

Overnight, the symbol began glowing and the gloves became tighter and tighter. Xel’s hands began to clench up on their own as the symbol grew brighter, until they locked in a fist. The light had woken him up after shining violently in his face.

He felt his hands go numb as blood could no longer circulate through, his arms turning a bright red. His vision began to fade. Shortly after, he had passed out.

When Xel awoke, the gloves had regained their comfort. He was sprawled out on an old mattress that was covered in filth and flattened. He tried to stand, but to no avail, as his legs were bind by chains to a rusty fence. Instead, he attempted pulling the gloves off, again with no success. They seemed to be stuck to his hands.

He struggled. No luck.

He shouted out, “Who the hell brought me here?! You bastard, better show yer face!” His only return was his own echo.

After what seemed like an eternity, a silhouette of a man appeared above Xel. He was holding a knife to Xel’s chest. He leaned down, revealing his face.

Xel’s expression went from pure rage to horror as he saw himself staring down at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late. The knife was thoroughly lodged in his heart.

Xel woke up.

That was all a dream? No, that can’t be. It felt too real. He thought.

He noticed the gloves on his hands still. The symbol began to glow, and a dark fog spread throughout his room. The last remaining visible object was a mirror. Xel walked over, and rest his palm on the surface of the mirror.

The symbol began to glow again. The fog had cleared, revealing the Xel was now in an old ruin. Behind him was a pedestal with a neatly folded outfit on top. A dark grey hood on robes with black bandoliers, and a pair of old black leather gaiters. On the robes was the same symbol as on the gloves. He tried them on, finding another perfect fit.

Xel finally looked carefully at the symbol. It was a dark red circle with triangular shapes surrounding it, resembling a cog. Inside was what appeared to be chains, with a small X in the center.

He stared at it for a moment, and when he looked away, he was back in his room, in front of the mirror. The fog hadn’t cleared yet. The symbol now was fading, rather than glowing, and seemingly absorbed the fog.

When it cleared, another silhouette was rifling through Xel’s drawers, frantically searching for something.

Xel knocked on the wall once, startling the silhouette. They began to turn around, revealing a face. Xel was relieved to not see his own, but rather a young girl.

She wore a hood, her light brown hair falling over her chest. Her clothes were entirely black and blended well with the shadows.

She was huddled against the wall, frightened and worried, a nervous expression covering her face. Xel noticed the same symbol on the girl’s clothes.

“Girl. Who are you?” He asked.

Before she could answer, the symbol on her cloak began to glow, and she was gone.

Feedback and criticism are much obliged. :dryadgrin:
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Empress of Light
Good work, but Here's some advice:

You have to get the reader interested in the story by the FIRST sentence, alot of books do this so you'd actually read them. I really wasn't too interested but I had to keep reading anyways.

I usually just make it interesting by throwing the reader into the action as soon as possible.

Page 1:

Page 2:


Actually you needn't give much a :red: about the format because this is literature on a gaming forums, except when one has a :red:pile of text. I think the current spacing and alignment is easy for the eyes and splendid.


Part two should be coming tonight..? Provided I'm not still sick or feel good enough to write.

EDIT: It'll be coming sometime this week.
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Part two should be coming tonight..? Provided I'm not still sick or feel good enough to write.

EDIT: It'll be coming sometime this week.
I am apparently a huge liar, and I apologize.

I think I have a schedule for these now.
Every two weeks, on the weekend, I'll try to get out two bits of literature. Meaning, tonight, and tomorrow, most likely.


Swagmaster is at it again, folks.

Great thing you made here b0ss!

Also, Kill la Kill reference confirmed?
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