Onvoy

R Smith H.

Description

A tale of a world at the brink of falling apart being abruptly thrust into a new beginning - life changes forever. Our hero finds a mysterious and powerful sword, something that amplifies his own emotions immensely, engaging them into physical manifests of a devastating heat that scorches everything, even himself. With so much hate, loss and sorrow on his shoulders, our hero must contain himself and not let go of his emotions lest they become too much and send what's left of his world crumbling to ashes. Life might never be the same again but that doesn't mean it's the end - only an opportunity. An opportunity for what? That is the decision of the holder. Where others not know what to do, feeling lost and hopeless, our hero has a purpose - to learn more about this mysterious power and sword which has entered his life, find his family and take back the apocalypse no matter the pain.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 mai 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781398404168
• Langue: English

Extrait

O nvoy: A T ale of P ain
H. R. Smith
Austin Macauley Publishers
2021-05-28
Onvoy: A Tale of Pain About the Author Copyright Information © Acknowledgement Chapter 1: The First Seed Chapter 2: Reality’s Touch Chapter 3: Reality’s Release Chapter 4: Finding Me Chapter 5: Get Phil Back in Time Chapter 6: Your Sight Chapter 7: Inherit the Heat Chapter 8: A Painful Sight Chapter 9: New Home Chapter 10: Limit Breaker Chapter 11: Echoing Heart Chapter 12: A New Day, a New Dawn
About the Author
H. R. Smith in his younger years was a creative and unusual individual that would always try to put a smile on people’s face no matter what he faced himself. He experienced a lot of hardship during his teenage years, which helped him find inspiration in this style of writing. His mind would often plague him with unruly thoughts, though instead of surrendering to them, he decided that these thoughts and ideas would be the foundations for the tale told today.
Copyright Information ©
H. R. Smith (2021)
The right of H. R. Smith to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398409217 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398409224 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781398404168 (ePub e-book)
ISBN 9781398409231 (Audiobook)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2021)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgement
I would like to thanks Hayley Smith who checked over the book for me as well as advising me on ways to add more to the book.
Also, I would like to thank a channel on YouTube called TeamFourStar. Their content gave me some inspiration to certain directions I took and how to implement comedy while maintaining a gritty and surreal environment.
Chapter 1 The First Seed
Anger is an overwhelming feeling often hard to ignore; it gives you a surge, a rush of energy, almost impossible to contain. Anger provides you with the power to push yourself harder, to hurt others; anger is neither good nor bad; it’s an emotion…just an emotion…
The middle of a silent, peaceful night until… “Dad…Daaaaaaad, wake up.”
Markus opens his eyes hazily. “What…” He sits up squinting, his eyes struggling to, or unwilling to, focus in the darkness. Looking around him, he is unsure why he has been rudely awakened. “Connor? What’s wrong, Connor?” Markus croaks in a perplexed, disapproving tone. Markus strains to focus and makes out Connor’s silhouette ahead of him. He appears to be jittery, on the edge, continuously looking behind him for something before turning back to Markus.
“Dad, I think there’s someone downstairs. I heard something, and I had a look from the top of the stairs. There was a person…a man, I think, and he’s just ranting on about something.” Connor’s voice is a high, scared whisper.
Markus, whose attention is peaked, is wide awake and climbing out of bed, hastily getting into his trousers. The adrenalin kicking in heightens all his senses and his ear is pricked to the distant mumblings he can hear from downstairs. Gently, he leans over, taking the mobile phone from the bedside table, and looks at his wife; he gently wakes her up with a whisper, “Hey, Sarah, someone’s downstairs; call the police; you stay here with Connor while I have a look.” Sarah sits up quickly; like Markus, she struggles to focus on his words.
“What? What’s wrong?” she croaks. Markus repeats the instructions and Sarah recoils, then grabs the phone, frantically pressing the buttons to get help. In her panic, the buttons must have been incorrect as the tone just dies; hastily, she tries again, glancing upwards at Markus’ diminishing shadow, her hands shaking.
Slowly as to not alert his presence to the person downstairs, Markus creeps along the skirting board edge so that the stair boards do not creek. With very deliberate steps, he creeps down one by one, psyching himself to confront the person making the weird noises downstairs. As he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he hesitates, scared of the unknown, adrenalin pumping through his chest. He takes a deep breath and just as he conquers the fear and starts to move forward, the noise stops. Momentarily, Markus is thrown off guard, questioning if he is actually awake. He peers into the darkness, straining to focus on the shapes ahead, but he sees no one there. Is this a dream, is he sleepwalking or has Connor just imagined this? He cannot see anyone in the shadows and relaxes ever so slightly, his shoulders drop and he lets his guard drop.
Exploring around the rooms, Markus sees no one and hears no one, feeling slightly more relaxed and calmer. Markus starts to flick on the lights to make a more thorough check in the room and again, no one is there but as Markus heads back to the stairs, flicking off all the lights as he goes, he sees a shadow at the bottom of the stairs cascaded from someone at the top. Markus looks oddly at the shadow for a second and assumes it can only be Connor at the top of the stairs, so Markus yells out, “Connor! No one’s down here!” The shadowy figure does not move and hearing no response, Markus sighs to himself and sets off up the stairs, this time making heavy noises as he stomps on the stairs.
As Markus reaches the top, he doesn’t see Connor but is surprised and a bit shocked to see a man hunched over, mumbling to himself, next to the bedroom door. Now back on his guard, figuring that the man hasn’t noticed him for some reason, Markus slowly tries to look around for something…a weapon, even a cushion for defence, but is not able to see anything.
Markus turns back to the man again slowly; however, the man is no longer looking away and is facing Markus, looking very feral and with glass shards in his face and body, ready to pounce at any minute. Markus is horrified, unsure to attack or not; the man uses this opportunity and charges at Markus, screaming, strangely enough, “Help…HELP!” in a desperate manner as if Markus is the one attacking him.
Markus defends himself against the man, pushing with one hand at the man’s throat and another to his shoulder as he claws away at Markus’ arms. Markus tries to push the man off, enduring countless scratches to his forearms, when out of nowhere Connor appears behind the man with a pillow, making Markus question his son’s thinking, but with a mighty whack, Connor slaps the man to the side, knocking him off Markus.
In the brief time, he asks Connor, “A pillow? Really?”
To which Connor retorts, “I couldn’t find anything else.” Markus looks at Connor with a questionable look, but the man gets back up; this time, turning to Connor and looking slightly pissed off from being whacked in the face with a pillow, as if it’s a girls’ slumber party; he gets ready to attack Connor.
Wasting no time as the man leaps at Connor, Markus grabs onto the man’s throat, choking him by the neck with one hand. As the man tries to claw at Markus, Markus successfully manages to trap one of the feral man’s arms between Markus’s own, still holding onto the neck; with his other hand, Markus tightly grips the man’s other arm, stretching it far behind his head. Markus exclaims, “You need to calm the fuck down, mate!”
But the man squeals, “Help, help, help,” desperately. He slips his head down, biting Markus, now pissing Markus off. Markus tosses the man aside forcefully into the bathroom and he smacks his head on the toilet, causing an explosion of shattered ceramic as the man’s head passes through the ceramic bowl.
Markus is shocked with wide eyes, not meaning to do that much damage and starts to think, Oh shit, I just killed a guy! When he looks back at Connor, he sees his son shocked and horrified but Connor shouts, “Dad!” Pointing back at the bathroom as the man climbs back up, groaning, “Heeeeeeeeelp.”
Markus, thinking quickly, slams the bathroom door, holding it tight and shouting to Connor, “Find something to block it!”
Connor questions, “It opens inwards though.”
Markus, thinking what he is going to do, suddenly hears a loud smash, and is confused as to what has happened. Markus chooses to prepare and fight to subdue the man. He rams the door open, ready to attack, but the man has gone and a smashed bathroom window remains. “Fuck!” Markus exclaims.
Fearfully, Markus heads back into his bedroom to greet his wife as Connor hastily follows anxiously. “Did you get through to the police?” Markus asks gently yet desperately.
Sarah, startled, looks up at Markus. “No. I couldn’t get through…” She stops midway through as her eyes drift towards Markus’s battle scars still fresh with blood, noticing the bleeding cuts on Markus’s arms; she sympathetically leaps out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the floor to wrap up the wounds and restrict the blood leaking out; she says demandingly, “We are getting you to a hospital; that needs to be checked out.”
Markus casually brushes off the blood seeping through the makeshift bandage, stating profoundly, “They’ll heal.”
Impressed, Sarah looks at him dead in the eye and says sternly, “For all we know, that guy could have had his fingers up his ass when no one was looking; you can get an infection! We are going.”
Markus is standing like a little boy