Last November I submitted a 400-word piece of fiction to the Odyssey II Project organized by the one and only Clive Barker. My submission for Chapter 4 was not selected but it was fun to write and something I want to share with you. From the official deviantART site: “Clive Barker starts us off with the Prologue for Odyssey II and selects the submissions for the final books. The ultimate creative challenge to produce the ultimate deviantART book.” The artwork and film created for the Odyssey II Project was selected in the same manner as the literature. This is an example of how technology could change the way we create and enjoy storytelling. How do you see the entertainment landscape changing?
Seek and Destroy, by J. Thorn
“She found it!” Maya’s voice rattled off the walls of the van, and her words burrowed like a cold blade inside Paul’s head.
“Are you sure?” The question came from behind the wheel, where rain forced a stuttering wiper across the windshield.
Maya gasped and shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. She grasped Paul’s leg and glared at him to silence his emerging questions as she slid the tip of a stained dagger into the fabric of his pants, careful not to pierce the pulsing flesh beneath.
“Lysanna’s searching. I need another syringe,” she said.
A hand appeared out of the darkness from the passenger seat, presenting a syringe with a single drop of liquid on the tip. Maya grabbed it and plunged the needle into Paul’s thigh. He felt another wave of nausea as the van rumbled over London’s cobblestone streets.
“Let me out,” Paul whispered, his eyes fluttering.
“I’d cut your heart out before I did that.”
“Please, I’m going to be sick.”
“You’re going to be dead if you don’t shut up right now.”
Paul let his head drop, striking the steel floor. The odor of stale cigarettes and engine oil made the bile rise higher in his throat.
Maya sighed and nodded towards the phantom voice coming from the front of the van. “Call ahead, Shawn. Make sure they’re ready. And somebody had better be triangulating her location.”
He could no longer contain the greasy sensation in his stomach. Paul turned his head sideways and vomited. The liquid pooled on the floor, brown and smelling like bitter copper.
The van came to a stop, and the door slid open to reveal two profiles silhouetted by street lights, which infused the rain with a dreadful yellow color. The men reached out and grabbed Paul’s arms while Maya stared at the puddle of vomit. She saw a flash of color, a hint of electrified rust pulsing with life.
“He’s approaching capacity,” she shouted towards the commotion. The van door had been left open and bare to the storm’s chill. “Strap him down, for God’s sake!”
Shawn stepped to the side door and extended his hand to Maya. She glared at him, brushing aside his assistance as her black leather boots struck the slick pavement. The rain came harder, trying to keep her from what had to be done.
“They’ve found her,” said Shawn.
Maya nodded, reaching for the worn handle of her dagger.