ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
A haunting screech echoed through the town. We stopped chiselling the meteorite.
"The Lulls are here," I said.
Paul collected our things. He rubbed his hand across his stubble. He murmured, "Then we better hurry." It may have been 2:47 PM but if Lulls were nearby, we weren't going to risk our lives. Paul asked, "Have we got enough?"
I inspected the bag; there wasn't much inside. After a moment, I replied, "It'll do."
"Good," he said as he lifted the rucksack. "Let's move." We left the meteor site and headed to Paul's car which was across the road. Paul and I were neighbours, back when things were normal. I used to go round his, drink a couple of beers as we watched the footie. Now Paul was a man of few words. Heck, I think anyone would be if they lost a wife and a child through the sickness.
A couple of months ago, a meteor fell on Earth. Luckily, nobody was hurt. At first. They came from the rock, two or three of them, looking like will-o'-wisps. They were floating around town, watching us go about our lives. And then people got ill, saying and doing crazy things before they died. We didn't know it back then but the Lulls were feeding from us, getting stronger and slowly taking us over.
As the meteors hit Earth, Lulls became increasingly more aggressive in their feeding habits. The meteors were their transport. Lulls are like parasites, draining every drip of sanity and soul that they can lap up from humans. Lulls are weaker during the day, stuck in the form of their victims. The sunlight doesn't stop them from coming out of their hovel, though. Lulls enjoy playing mind games with their food. The ghosts taunt, cry and scream in pain because they know it'll drive you to insanity. They can be killed if in human form but after it's done, it feels like you've damned your soul to hell. I should know.
At night, Lulls are deadly. Able to shift forms instantaneously, they move like smoke. One moment, you think you're safe. But then long, claw-like hands are pressed against your throat. You can smell it, hear it, but you can't see the creature that lurks in your nightmares. Its cold breath hits your cheek as it reveals its true form. The jaws open wide; an abyss lined with razor sharp teeth. Death will sink its teeth into you, biting every inch of flesh, before the Lull wears your skin. They can even access every thought, every memory, that belonged to you.
We got in the car and buckled ourselves in. A small number of us were hiding out in the local hospital. We figured that as long as there were no shadows, we would be able to fight back against the Lulls.
Paul jerked. He was pale, shaking uncontrollably. And I saw why.
I didn't take my eyes of the Lulls that were in front of us. "Paul," I said, "They're not real, Paul." His wife and kid were standing there, holding each other's hands. Their mouths and white gowns were covered in blood. God, these Lulls were sick. "Paul!"
In the corner of my eye, Paul looked at me. He closed his eyes and sagged in the seat. With a shaky breath, Paul said, "I know. They're not real. Lulls, that's all they are."
Paul started the car.
The girl looked up to the older Lull. "Sing me a song, Mummy." As Paul was putting the car into gear, he tensed. He knew what was coming.
Staring at Paul while petting the girl's blonde hair, the ghost of Paul's wife sang, "Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall and down will come baby, cradle and all."
Paul put down the handbrake and put his foot on the gas. He stared into the interior mirror as we passed the ghosts.
He said, "Don't say anything."
I ignored him. "They were Lulls, Paul. Those things weren't your family."
"How do we know?"
I opened my mouth, then promptly closed it. That was the problem with this war; we didn't know.
"The Lulls are here," I said.
Paul collected our things. He rubbed his hand across his stubble. He murmured, "Then we better hurry." It may have been 2:47 PM but if Lulls were nearby, we weren't going to risk our lives. Paul asked, "Have we got enough?"
I inspected the bag; there wasn't much inside. After a moment, I replied, "It'll do."
"Good," he said as he lifted the rucksack. "Let's move." We left the meteor site and headed to Paul's car which was across the road. Paul and I were neighbours, back when things were normal. I used to go round his, drink a couple of beers as we watched the footie. Now Paul was a man of few words. Heck, I think anyone would be if they lost a wife and a child through the sickness.
A couple of months ago, a meteor fell on Earth. Luckily, nobody was hurt. At first. They came from the rock, two or three of them, looking like will-o'-wisps. They were floating around town, watching us go about our lives. And then people got ill, saying and doing crazy things before they died. We didn't know it back then but the Lulls were feeding from us, getting stronger and slowly taking us over.
As the meteors hit Earth, Lulls became increasingly more aggressive in their feeding habits. The meteors were their transport. Lulls are like parasites, draining every drip of sanity and soul that they can lap up from humans. Lulls are weaker during the day, stuck in the form of their victims. The sunlight doesn't stop them from coming out of their hovel, though. Lulls enjoy playing mind games with their food. The ghosts taunt, cry and scream in pain because they know it'll drive you to insanity. They can be killed if in human form but after it's done, it feels like you've damned your soul to hell. I should know.
At night, Lulls are deadly. Able to shift forms instantaneously, they move like smoke. One moment, you think you're safe. But then long, claw-like hands are pressed against your throat. You can smell it, hear it, but you can't see the creature that lurks in your nightmares. Its cold breath hits your cheek as it reveals its true form. The jaws open wide; an abyss lined with razor sharp teeth. Death will sink its teeth into you, biting every inch of flesh, before the Lull wears your skin. They can even access every thought, every memory, that belonged to you.
We got in the car and buckled ourselves in. A small number of us were hiding out in the local hospital. We figured that as long as there were no shadows, we would be able to fight back against the Lulls.
Paul jerked. He was pale, shaking uncontrollably. And I saw why.
I didn't take my eyes of the Lulls that were in front of us. "Paul," I said, "They're not real, Paul." His wife and kid were standing there, holding each other's hands. Their mouths and white gowns were covered in blood. God, these Lulls were sick. "Paul!"
In the corner of my eye, Paul looked at me. He closed his eyes and sagged in the seat. With a shaky breath, Paul said, "I know. They're not real. Lulls, that's all they are."
Paul started the car.
The girl looked up to the older Lull. "Sing me a song, Mummy." As Paul was putting the car into gear, he tensed. He knew what was coming.
Staring at Paul while petting the girl's blonde hair, the ghost of Paul's wife sang, "Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall and down will come baby, cradle and all."
Paul put down the handbrake and put his foot on the gas. He stared into the interior mirror as we passed the ghosts.
He said, "Don't say anything."
I ignored him. "They were Lulls, Paul. Those things weren't your family."
"How do we know?"
I opened my mouth, then promptly closed it. That was the problem with this war; we didn't know.
Literature
Untold Stories- The Unsinkable Ship: Prologue
-6:43 AM, April 10th, 1912- Southampton, England
Nicholas Thatcher woke up extra early today. He gasped, waking up immediately. He sat up in his hotel bed, looking at the clock. Smiling, he got out of bed, careful not to wake Sofia (his sister) who was sleeping next to him. He went bare foot on the wooden floor, past the bed his mom and Amber (his other sister, twin of Sofia) were sleeping in. The 11 year old kneeled in the wooden chair that was pushed up to the high window so he could look out.
Their hotel in Southampton overlooked the White Star Line's Pier. Nick could see it from their floor of the hotel, just barely. In that ocean dock
Literature
Journey's End
Journey’s End
including The Jade Gates and Our Secret Harbor
The needed provisions gathered
The loading has began
Until finally all is finished
The sails are hoisted,
In readiness for the voyage
As we begin the adventure of a lifetime.
Casting off from our home port
Not know when we shall return
Looking back at the shoreline
As it slowly fades into the horizon
Leaving only the vastness of the sea
To be seen in every direction.
Sailing on through sun and storm
Watching whales breech the surface
And dolphins ride in our wake
A promising of good fortune to come
Then running into the doldrums
We drifted on the currents for days upon d
Literature
Winter in Arville (An AC:Wild World Journal)
Winter has hit Arville. Chevre and I have become the best buds.
Hugh, Baabara and Roald are in some sorta love triangle, as evidenced by some letter deliveries I had to do for those lazy bastards. I hope Lobo eats Baabara, she's kind of a bitch. I still haven't paid off my first loan. Nook is a dick. I don't have a dresser to put gifts from the villagers in. Nook still doesn't have a shovel at his store. I really need to get started on the fossils in the museum. I've been collecting fish at a slow pace, I can't find any bugs because it's..I don't know....WINTER?! Ugh, and the only fish I've been catching are squids and sea bass since the sea
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
This is a username request in which I write something that's inspired by the deviant's username. In this case it's Luminols. I hope you like it! (Don't worry, I don't think of you as part of an alien race that's bent on taking over the world. I really don't, I swear!)
Upon seeing the username, my first thought was of the word "luminary". From there, I thought about a fight between good and evil while incorporating the "light" and "dark" aspects into the story, both literally and metaphorically.
Looking at the username, key words kept jumping out at me e.g. lullabies, normal and darkness. I made the name "Lull's" out of the username and thought it a perfect name for creatures that can lure people with mimicry of the dead.
I think it does need editing and perhaps expanding on some ideas mentioned. I would like to flesh out the characters if at all possible. It was challenging to write, particularly the ending, but I'm happy with the concept.
Word count: 705 words.
Upon seeing the username, my first thought was of the word "luminary". From there, I thought about a fight between good and evil while incorporating the "light" and "dark" aspects into the story, both literally and metaphorically.
Looking at the username, key words kept jumping out at me e.g. lullabies, normal and darkness. I made the name "Lull's" out of the username and thought it a perfect name for creatures that can lure people with mimicry of the dead.
I think it does need editing and perhaps expanding on some ideas mentioned. I would like to flesh out the characters if at all possible. It was challenging to write, particularly the ending, but I'm happy with the concept.
Word count: 705 words.
Comments5
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Very entertaining story! You are very skilled at creating levels of suspense and mystery that makes a great page-turner.