Oh yes, you read that right! The dreaded word demon had struck again!
Just this morning I was roused awake by its scathing claws, as I was pulled from the world of dreams. I was destined to be a slave until I met the demands it gave me. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to find a way to chase this beast from my world of safety. I found nothing worthy of such a demon and there was nothing else within my power to do, other than write for all my sins. I was burned and whipped for my reluctance. Then I was tormented with hot searing chains while being tied to the stake. Only when I begged for mercy did he stop and give his demands once more. I fought for every inch of what I could do, of how much blood I could spill this night, but he was having none of it. I could not barter with the demon.
What were his demands you ask? Well, I will tell you, and perhaps you can avoid the very fate I endured.
It was demanded that my word count of my current work in progress should be no less than 13,000 words by the turn of midnight leading into the 5th of November. Oh remember remember the 5th of November – the burning man has risen again and this time, he will not fail in blowing things up! Well that’s what he told me. I typed when I could, and rested when I couldn’t. But the quicker the day past, the more I was falling behind. With 2,500 words left to write, there was only 1 hour and 30 minutes left on the clock. I panicked! Fear flooded ever orifice that my body possessed as the demon leered over my shoulder – a reminder of what he would do. His drooling saliva hung from the side of his rancid mouth, and then the foulest thing happened, it separated from him and landed on my shoulder! Oh how it burned, and reeked of foul things that had long since passed their sell by dates. Quite frankly it was simply putrid, and he could do nothing but snigger at my reaction.
At this, the final insult that I could handle, I raised my sword in defiance – the mightiest weapon that I could bear was within my reach and I was no longer scared. I allowed the pen to do the fighting and it battled endlessly until it could go on no more. The life ebbed from my trusty friend as it gave its life to save me. When it could manage no more, it fell to the side and gave the last drop of bleeding ink that remained within the body and then it could give no more. It was done. Life was over and I was ready to hand my soul to his for failing to reach his demands this very night. I held my hands out and waited for his chains, but they did not fall. And then I noticed it. The count it was…. 13,023 and the time stood at 00:00. That pen gave its life for my sanity and I have lived to tell the tale.
Okay, maybe I’m being a little melodramatic when I say that. But that demon did certainly raise its ugly head and it’s lurking around this very moment. It’s coming for you, the writer in the night. Nowhere is safe, not even in daylight!
Happy Writing people!
Through Fire The Pen Arose 