Post by B. on Oct 13, 2012 16:32:05 GMT -5
It was an ordinary Saturday, and I was lying on my sofa, alone. Titanic was on TV, and the idea for the fic was thus conceived.
It is somewhat crappy and obnoxious, but I'm just going to go to bed without any regrets about posting this. I hope. Oh, and I apologise if I offend anyone.
---
Prologue
For ten long years the man had dedicated his life to finding a priceless necklace, which was today worth more than the hope diamond. He stood on the deck of the ship, watching as his men hoisted up a safe from the darkest depths of the ocean. They had recovered it from a shipwreck which had been discovered a while back.
After opening the safe, his men searched inside for the necklace, only to find that it wasn’t there. A heavy disappointment shrouded the air; they had spent months preparing for this, only to come up empty handed. The man hung his head in his hands, devastated at his wasted efforts.
He bent down to examine the contents of the safe, and pulled out a sketchy drawing, of a beautiful, young woman. Upon examining it he realised in disbelief that she was wearing the very necklace she was searching for- there was hope yet! After a moment, realisation dawned. He knew this woman, from pictures in one of the old threads on a dead forum he would lurk around on.
All the 667ers were supposed to be dead- they had died decades ago, in 2012 aboard the very ship the man had just lifted the safe from….although there was word that some of them were still alive.
Back in the cabin, he logged onto 667 Dark Avenue, once a lively forum, but now just a shell of how things used to be. The user box at the very bottom was empty, said he was the only guest in the past 24 hours. He clicked on the achieves and read through a few very old threads, researching the woman in the picture. Eventually he found her contact details.
It was a long shot, he thought to himself, as he dialled the number. He waited, drumming his fingers as he listened to the other line. Just when he had been about to give up, to his amazement he heard the woman’s voice answer.
“Hello, are you Linda Rhaldeen?”
At the other end of the phone, the woman’s eyes widened. She had not been called that for many years, although it was a name she would still answer to, hard anyone been around to call her that.
“Hello, who is this?” she asked, after some hesitation.
“I have been researching a priceless nec-” he changed his mind, not wanted to appear selfish. “Ship. A priceless, er, ship. And I have reason to believe you might know about it. It was named ‘667.’”
Linda gasped.
“How did you know the woman in the drawing was me?”
“How did you know I found that drawing?”
“It’s in the story- erm, I’m psychic. I’m just a psychic old lady. Was I naked in the drawing, young man?”
The man sighed. “No. The author didn’t want to offend you.”
“What?”
“I mean, back your bags, I need to talk to you.”
“Why?” Linda grumbled, “Can’t you just talk on the telephone.”
“I’m sorry, it has to happen to give this story some bulk.”
Linda sighed, and hung up.
After a montage of oceans, trees, and various other parts of America, Linda arrived at her destination, clutching her hairless cat with a moustache named Bryan (the cat not the moustache).
She greeted the man, who shook hands with her, and led her inside, which was where she begun to tell the story of 667, which will hopefully be epic enough to hold your attention past this prologue.
---
Expect chapter one tomorrow. Or something like that, anyway.
It is somewhat crappy and obnoxious, but I'm just going to go to bed without any regrets about posting this. I hope. Oh, and I apologise if I offend anyone.
---
Prologue
For ten long years the man had dedicated his life to finding a priceless necklace, which was today worth more than the hope diamond. He stood on the deck of the ship, watching as his men hoisted up a safe from the darkest depths of the ocean. They had recovered it from a shipwreck which had been discovered a while back.
After opening the safe, his men searched inside for the necklace, only to find that it wasn’t there. A heavy disappointment shrouded the air; they had spent months preparing for this, only to come up empty handed. The man hung his head in his hands, devastated at his wasted efforts.
He bent down to examine the contents of the safe, and pulled out a sketchy drawing, of a beautiful, young woman. Upon examining it he realised in disbelief that she was wearing the very necklace she was searching for- there was hope yet! After a moment, realisation dawned. He knew this woman, from pictures in one of the old threads on a dead forum he would lurk around on.
All the 667ers were supposed to be dead- they had died decades ago, in 2012 aboard the very ship the man had just lifted the safe from….although there was word that some of them were still alive.
Back in the cabin, he logged onto 667 Dark Avenue, once a lively forum, but now just a shell of how things used to be. The user box at the very bottom was empty, said he was the only guest in the past 24 hours. He clicked on the achieves and read through a few very old threads, researching the woman in the picture. Eventually he found her contact details.
It was a long shot, he thought to himself, as he dialled the number. He waited, drumming his fingers as he listened to the other line. Just when he had been about to give up, to his amazement he heard the woman’s voice answer.
“Hello, are you Linda Rhaldeen?”
At the other end of the phone, the woman’s eyes widened. She had not been called that for many years, although it was a name she would still answer to, hard anyone been around to call her that.
“Hello, who is this?” she asked, after some hesitation.
“I have been researching a priceless nec-” he changed his mind, not wanted to appear selfish. “Ship. A priceless, er, ship. And I have reason to believe you might know about it. It was named ‘667.’”
Linda gasped.
“How did you know the woman in the drawing was me?”
“How did you know I found that drawing?”
“It’s in the story- erm, I’m psychic. I’m just a psychic old lady. Was I naked in the drawing, young man?”
The man sighed. “No. The author didn’t want to offend you.”
“What?”
“I mean, back your bags, I need to talk to you.”
“Why?” Linda grumbled, “Can’t you just talk on the telephone.”
“I’m sorry, it has to happen to give this story some bulk.”
Linda sighed, and hung up.
After a montage of oceans, trees, and various other parts of America, Linda arrived at her destination, clutching her hairless cat with a moustache named Bryan (the cat not the moustache).
She greeted the man, who shook hands with her, and led her inside, which was where she begun to tell the story of 667, which will hopefully be epic enough to hold your attention past this prologue.
---
Expect chapter one tomorrow. Or something like that, anyway.