Original Short stories and the like

Casanova

I'm nothing but a beast
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Well it seems while I was away my old thread was archived...oh well. Such is the way of an active forum.

Any-who, here I will post any short stories or anything else that I've scribbled down and deem worthy of other people's criticism. All of my work is original, I'm not a plagiariser.

So first up is a short adaptation of the movie The Last Samurai. I wrote this myself, search if you like, you won't find anything else similar anywhere. People who have seen the movie will find this familiar as I've converted about 30 seconds of the movie into a short, creative and original excerpt.

I hope you all like it and please don't be shy about dishing out severe criticism, as long as it's constructive, of course.

Finally, this is a pretty long adaptation, so for your sake I will post it in parts, and after a few replies by you (if any) I'll post the next part. Here is Part One, Enjoy. :)

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The horizon blazed brightest orange as the warm sun glanced over the sea's end. The water shimmered and sparkled like a great cloak of silver and birds chirruped contentedly as they swept past the beautiful cherry blossom trees that scattered the sloping plains of the Tokyo countryside. A warm and frequent breeze added to the overly tranquil setting. A man sat cross legged under a tall oak that overlooked the sea, his tanned skin contrasted highly with his pearly white robes, his bald head reflected the glaring gaze of the new sun and his rugged features were scrunched in concentration. His name was Katsumoto.<o:p></o:p>
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He sat completely still, clearing his mind of all thought, casting his feelings into oblivion in a bid to induce deep inner peace. He liked meditating here with the birds who whistled sweet melodies to one another over the buzz of the insects and the sound of the wind as it rustled it's way through the tall grass. However, his long nights spent here were becoming even longer of late, not that he minded but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to clear his mind with the people's loyalty to the samurai slowly ebbing away, the thought tugged at his conscious like a rude splinter in the back of his mind, a constant reminder. Each day brought news of another village that was visited and inevitably overthrown by foreigners or another woodland area burnt down to make way for train tracks or military barracks. The country was decaying, or so Katsumoto thought. Japan's infatuation with Western ways was to be the samurai's downfall.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p> </o:p>
At last his mind cleared. The fog of uncertainty, grief and stress that plagued his mind these past months cleared and his body became loose. He exhaled deeply and felt a veil of seemingly infinite calm descend over his conscious; his vision blurred slightly before his inner eye opened wide and surveyed a wide and deep sparkling plain of endless white. He felt his feet land soundlessly on ground that softened to the touch of his bare and calloused feet. He scrutinised the scene slowly, taking in the overwhelming sense of peace swathed him.<o:p></o:p>
 
Since it's only a short story and incomplete story, it's natural that it hadn't captured my interest, I guess. Though, I was getting pretty into it in the last paragraph, as it seemed like you'd let up on some advanced vocabulariez, actually letting me have a chance to understand some of the stuff you're saying without asking google wut it means. :wacky:

I encourage continuation. :monster:
 
As you wish. I'm glad you liked it, Dez.

So here's the next part...

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Then Katsumoto felt his inner eye blink - dazed. He staggered backwards and his feet started to tingle, the sensation spread quickly to his abdominal region and then further to his finger tips and scalp where it lingered briefly until his mind became numb and the vibrant landscape dissolved in front of him to be replaced by a foggy and cramped woodland area.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p> </o:p>
This has never happened before!<o:p></o:p>
<o:p> </o:p>
Tall trees reached high until their peeks were obscured by a thick fog that swamped the area. The ground was littered with broken branches and rifles, crude battle masks and severed limbs. The smell of blood was fresh. A battle had been lost here. No, not a battle. Signs of struggle were limited and tracks in the dirt only trailed in one direction. This was an undisputable massacre.<o:p></o:p>
<o:p> </o:p>
Katsumoto had no sword with him. If this was a trick - a plot to assassinate Katsumoto - then he was easy prey now, surely he would be picked off at any moment. He could not take that chance. He ran through the fog, hurtling himself over logs and limbs as he went, he ran and ran but the miasma seemed to get thicker and thicker until his immediate surroundings became indistinguishable. He stopped in a wide clearing to catch his breath, surely he had put some distance between him and anyone that may have pursued. This was truly peculiar, Katsumoto thought, what is this place? Why am I here? As he groped at a stitch that reached deep in his side a great and ferocious roar sounded nearby that seemed to cut through the fog and reverberate about the trees, getting louder and louder as it went.<o:p></o:p>
 
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