THE CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE THE WORKS OF AN ORIGINAL FICTION.
Rated M for Mature
Appropriate for readers 18 and over. May contain extreme violence, sexual themes, nudity, or profanity.
THE DARK WRITER- CHAPTER 1
Jeff Thompson was hard at work, typing words into the screen at his desktop computer. He wrote so many fan-fiction stories in order to spark some interest in the readers. As he typed the words, he thought of a time when he wrote his first novel, “As Time Goes By” and been published to the public. It wasn't considered as one of the best-seller list, since readers found out there were certain mistakes, which have been made in his novel. He expected some good reviews from the critics on certain websites, especially when he writes most of his stories at the fan-fiction site, where potential writers bring their own work and expect the goodness, coming out from it. After his first novel was published, Jeff got mixed reviews and most of them, were likely the angry readers when they felt their time has been wasted. He tried to ignore the fact that his work had not been widely accepted by the readers. He did try his best and it took him months to finish writing his first novel. Now, he felt like he had to practice more writing so that one day, he could write a better novel, which the readers would gladly accept, his work.
It was still dark at night, when Jeff realized the time was 11:00 pm by looking at it from the grandfather clock. He looked away and concentrated working on his latest fan-fiction, “The Iron Man.” So far, he was on his thirteenth chapter, expecting some good comments from the readers or other users on the fan-fiction site. He didn't mind the lack of comments, since he knew that readers have better things to do in life besides taking the time and read someone’s story, either the reader was bored with the story or didn't have anything much else to say. It didn't matter. But whenever Jeff comes back to the website and logs into his account, he finds that some comments, which he didn't like. He was fine when reminded of the mistakes that he had to fix them later on. But the only thing was missing that there weren't any good things that might describe his writing skills. He found some of the comments that almost made him unnerve. But he wouldn't think like that, since he knew what the readers are telling him to improve his writing. He looked at his latest chapter of “The Iron Man” and read three comments, so far, which had been posted.
“Your writing is clunky.”
“There are a lot of grammar errors.”
“There are some missing words.”
He wanted to reply those comments back, but felt it was unnecessary to do so. Every time, the amounts of work, which he had written so far, had been the same comments, the same as always. He also made a heated argument with one of the readers, saying that he had only made some minor errors. Jeff did understand what the reader had said to him, but also only wanted the appreciation of how much he had his work done.
One of his maids came to see that Jeff Thompson still locked his almost tired eyes at the computer screen. The maid was beautiful, so beautiful that she had those feisty black eyes of a cat, her red lips has been touched like a smear mark and her legs were shown naked even without wearing a strip stocking. Her black hair was short, yet it was covered with a small cap at the top of her head. She wore the similar Victorian- clothing attire as the other maids. She was Japanese who goes by the name, Yumiko Tanakawa. Jeff Thompson hired Yumiko to be her maid, so that she could perform her duties at his big mansion. He also hired a single butler, just to see things that his house stayed intact, perfect, and the maids were doing the jobs that they were expected to do. In reality, Jeff was a rich man, yet his parents have died and left him a vast fortune. There were other maids as well. But most of the maids weren't like Yumiko. She had that sweet kind, tender smile on her face that made Jeff comfortable and easy to deal with.
With his vast fortune on his hands, he decided that one day he could do something with his life like writing novels. He hoped that he could be like those best writers out there, the great master, story-teller of all, Stephen King, including other writers, Anne Rice, Dan Brown, George R.R. Martin and such others. Their works truly admired him to become the next generation of writers.
Yumiko saw what Jeff was doing at the moment. She always supported him, even though Jeff’s work gets slammed by the readers or been rejected by the critics as the days went by. Yumiko came closer to John, wondering if Jeff wanted something that could boost him to become fully awake.
“Sir,” Yumiko said. “Would you like something to drink?”
Jeff Thompson barely listened to her. He only stared at those comments; the fire almost unleashed in his eyes, wanting to slap those comments back. But no, he couldn't do it again just like he had a heavy argument with the reader last time. That rage wouldn't help him. It will only make things worse. By just sitting here alone, writing the words that came out from his head, day by day and night by night, would only make him more tired than ever before. How long, he had wondered to stay in his study room, waiting and hoping that his work would finally get accepted by the readers.
He breathed a heavy sigh and finally noticed Yumiko’s beauty. She had that perfect look like any maid that he got so far.
“Hi, Yumiko...”Jeff said, sounding tired. “I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there.” He smiled at the beautiful maid, not trying to be tempted by the looks of her true beauty. She only stood there as a model, which Jeff had seen before, the fashion shows, the magazine covers, and movies. It was like Yumiko had just entered out of the photo shoot, waiting to see how things that he had been doing so far. Not far enough that Jeff would say. He also never wanted to think about it.
“It’s okay, sir,” Yumiko said. “I'm sorry to disturb you as well.” Yumiko knows the rules that the household owners were meant not to be disturbed. Jeff Thompson was a busy man, after all.
“That’s all right,” Jeff said, smiling at the beautiful mad. “It’s getting late. I guess it looks like I have to go and take a nap.” He looked at the time on the clock, deciding it was time to turn away from his work for a while and continue the next day or night. “You can go and rest now.”
“Yes, sir,” Yumiko said, as she bowed her head and raised it back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Yumiko,” Jeff said. Yumiko left his study room alone, when Jeff stared at those comments on his story. He logged out of his account, closed the website and turned off his computer. The air felt cold as he forgot to close his windows beside the table, which he used to sit, staring at his computer. He wanted some fresh air to think clearly, so that he can continue writing his work. He got up from the seat, walked away from his study room, and then went upstairs to go and sleep in his bedroom.
When he reached his bedroom, he saw something that caught his eye. He had pictures of himself, the younger days and of his late parents. They smiled each other like those happy days, passing away till the end of time. He held a framed picture up, thinking back the time that he shared his love with them. He and his parents came from England and arrived at New York City to settle a new life and a new job. His father used to work in London as a software designer at the company called the Digital Makers, Ltd. His father worked his way up until he got a transfer to the United States at the same company. His wife didn't mind the new change as she was still happy for him. Later, he was promoted to become the next C.E.O. of the same company that he always worked for.
His mother was a well-known doctor as she though it weren't a transfer. She told her staff, several good-byes and hoped to find the same job in the United States. It was a new life for them and for the once, little Jeff who is standing now, staring at his lovely parents. But everything changed for him, the day that his parents died. He had no idea it would happen, the time on his eighteenth birthday.
He put the picture back on the table. Before he went to bed, he saw himself in the mirror. He knew that he was tired, the almost sweat that came down from his forehead, as if the burning heat filled his lungs. He was a young man, almost like any person out there, whom he had studied and worked with. He was in his 30s, his hair was light bond, and the eyes were like those of a blue bird, flying the sky. He wore a white shirt and small shorts as if the heat was lighting up his big mansion. He had that handsome look on his face, yet some beautiful women didn't notice him.
He walked away from the mirror, stepped on the bed without covering the blankets over his body. He slept deeply, so quiet that nobody would come to his bedroom and disturb him. He can still feel the heat wave, passing through his body. There was sweat, which still came drooling down to the bottom of his neck. Then, a fire erupted around his bed. He didn't wake up, but he can sense the heat without looking at it. He finally opened his eyes and saw a shadowy figure standing, gazing at him. The figure was shaped like a woman and her eyes were red like an angry fire coursing through his veins, ready to pump the blood out. He knows that this was only a dream, but the first dream that he ever had in his life.
TO BE CONTINUED IN THE DARK WRITER- CHAPTER 2.
What’s this? Fire emanating from his bedroom? Is it a dream? Who is this woman with the red eyes? Watch out for the next chapter of “The Dark Writer.”
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