The Thread: Our Darkest Hour
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I’ve been involved with Lit.org for several months now, and the one thing that has always impressed me about this site is its community-like atmosphere. It really is a special thing. One that we should not take for granted.
That said. This story, and hopefully the many collections that will follow, is going to use the above-mentioned atmosphere in a way that is unique to this site. Its success or failure depends on the involvement of each member, so I hope that every one of us will participate.
Okay, so what is it? Below you will read a few short paragraphs, which are the beginnings of a story. I have purposely kept it short and vague.
Why? You ask.
Because that is where you come in. From this point on, I would like different writers to add short, interesting installments. These passages will be added in the “comments” box to create one continuous story.
Does that sound intriguing?
I hope so. We have many new writers floating around here and it’s a great chance for them to strut your stuff. And as for the old timers, let’s show these young bucks what a lit.org-er can do.
Just a few rules for us to play by:
1. If you’re interested in writing the next section, please come to the forum named, “The Thread,” and leave a note. This is to avoid having two or more writers working on the same section. You could say something like, “I’m gonna do the part after Beckett Grey.”
2. Keep you sections to fewer than 500 words. I’d like many people to be able to participate, and this should enable it.
3. End your section with the characters on the verge of an “event.” This will make it easier for the next writer to pick up where you left off.
4. Follow the characteristics that have been established for characters. If in one section “Johnny” has blonde hair, then he should still have blonde hair in your part too.
5. Do not post comments in the comments box. That space is for the continuation of the story. If you wish to leave comments, please do so at the forum.
6. Above all else, have fun, be creative and get involved.
Thank you. Now on with the story.
Our Darkest Hour
He stumbles across the rocky terrain that is as dry as his throat. Beneath his feet, the bones of his fallen friends and foes create a crunching sound similar to crisp, fall leaves.
Still, he pushes himself forward. He must reach the doorway to the last human sanctuary. It is just ahead. He can see it through the blood that drips into his eyes. He had fought too hard and learned too much to simply let the information pass into the dust of a decomposing brain when he is so close.
Afterall, that is why he had left in the first place, to search for knowledge, answers, and hope. Though he isn’t sure if he found any one of those things, maybe can pass on something useful.
Or so he dreams.
As he takes the final steps to the dented and bruised door, he feels a sense of satisfaction. He has beaten them, those nameless things, even if he dies before the next morning. Despite their best efforts, he has done something that no human has in quite some time. He had left the barricades and wandered the Earth. And most importantly, he made it back alive.
He raises his bloodied and bruised arm, and bangs it against the heavy steel door, while he thinks, “Hurry, I have much to tell you.”
If you have no questions or fears about your abilities, then you will learn nothing from your mistakes and know nothing about your limitations.