Announcing.... NaNoWriMo 2012!

This story came out of nowhere, and I have no idea where it's going from here. I have the second half of chapter 2 written as well, bringing me up to a word count of 2,588 as of the publishing of this post. I will probably write more tonight so I am ahead for the weekend.

Anyway. I stole a character name from last year's NaNo, but he is not the same person whatsoever. I am incredibly proud of this story already, and I hope others may come to enjoy it as much as I am so far. Here's the introduction and the first chapter. Enjoy!

Intro

It would not have been a big deal at all to just tell Kale he should have left a long time ago, but Corten couldn’t bring himself to do it. When the others in the group suggested going to the darkroom, Kale obviously didn’t know what he was getting into. It was too late, anyway, and Kale was going to be a part of this eventually. He may as well start to understand.

The rest of the world kept spinning while Corten and the rest of the group walked down the short hallway that had been recently covered with a large tarp from top to bottom, including the ceiling and floor. They stepped in silence, leaving room for the crinkling plastic to drag with their reluctant feet. Turning the only corner, all five of the unfamiliar men stepped aside, narrowing the path of the hallway, and looked to Kale. Kale looked to Corten with a wide but suspicious gaze, and Corten nodded forward. He then led the way to the door and opened it inward to reveal a darkness Kale had never before experienced. It was not just void of light, but of happiness and sound as well. Without a word or breath, Kale passed through the doorway and was immediately engulfed in the darkness. Only a foot or two within the room, he could no longer see the men or the hallway he remembered leaving behind. He could only see the unending, unsympathetic darkness.

Chapter One

Kale stepped a little too quickly into the room and looked around. There were six men present, one of them being Corten, the only familiar face in the small crowd. It was a small room, almost like a closet. There was hardly space to get up and down from your seat. Cards were spread around the table, but they were not the normal playing cards you would see at a basement poker game, and this was not a basement. The men all lifted their heads in unison when Kale entered the room. None spoke, but Corten rose from his seat to offer it to Kale. Kale sat down cautiously.

Corten's hands found Kale's shoulders and squeezed them lightly. They had only met a few days before, but Kale was suddenly a part of this basement closet poker game. Deciding whether this was a good idea or not was no longer an option. He was here. He was seated. And his only exit was blocked off by a man only slightly older and very unfamiliar. None of the men looked at him after Corten stood up. They were focused on the cards. Kale thought one might have moved without being touched, but he blew it off as a stray breath someone took.

The man to his right grabbed a blue card from across the table and held it up, as if to show it off to the group. The man it had previously been in front of nodded, and glanced at Kale before standing next to Corten. It was intimidating, this unknown man hovering over him, but Corten's hands were still rested on his shoulders. The man holding the blue card turned to Kale, also.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked.

"Am I supposed to? You asked if I wanted to see the darkroom; I said yes." Kale answered.

"Why did you want to?"

"I don't know. What should I have said?"

"You answer a lot of questions with questions."

"Well, maybe I want answers."

"If you want answers, you must ask much better questions, youngling." Corten chimed in, placing his hands back by his sides and walking around what little of the table he could. "But because I sympathize with the youth, I believe we should answer some of the questions he has asked." Corten addressed the rest of the group.

"Why am I a youth? You're only 20 yourself." Kale stated.

Corten did not answer his question. Instead he asked, "Why are you all so resistant to him? He knows nothing, yet you treat him as an enemy. He walks into this hellhole blindly, probably having suspicions of its possible dangers, and you disrespect his willingness?"

"They haven't said anything..."

"Quiet. This may concern you, but it is not your matter to question. Enya was right. You need to resist your desire to know, and let us teach you." So Enya was his name. At least one of the men was opened up a little more. That left four, but four was a number Kale didn't have any large desire to deal with at the moment.

"Just one more thing."

"No."

"But I--"

"I said NO." Kale had risen from his seat and Corten was now towering over him with a hand around the collar of his shirt. "You are NOT to ask any more questions. I apologize for my sudden brashness, but you need to remain quiet now. Trust me." Kale was instantly reluctant to trust the unfamiliar man and had opened his mouth to speak, but closed it after glancing into Corten's eyes. They seemed to be filled with white fire.

He let go of Kale and straightened his shirt, then stepped away. Kale was immobile for a short moment's time. Corten opened the door and stepped out into the endless darkroom. Kale wondered how they could see in that horrible black fluff. It gave off such a tingled feeling as he walked through it that he wondered if it was just darkness, or something more. Definitely something more, he thought. There was an emptiness in the room after the door closed behind Corten, and all the men returned their gazes to Kale. Enya spoke again, startling Kale.

"So. We got off on the wrong foot. As you may have picked up, I am Enya. I am a presenter. You'll know what that means soon enough."

"And I'm Kenton, the lefty." Everyone laughed. "Okay, that's my nickname. I am a backwood. Same thing Enya said--you'll understand soon."

"I will be called Blake, for the time being. However, I tend not to have a name to most… people. And I won’t even bother telling you what I am right now. I add the common disclaimer of my friends.”

“This makes absolutely no s—” Kale began.

“AND I AM ROTHDRAK, SUN OF ENYA,” another one of the dark-haired men said with a deep, booming voice.

“Wait, how are you his son? You don’t look older than 25.” Kale observed.

“Not his son, youngling. His sun.” Kenton said, motioning toward the ceiling. “Like, the one in the sky.”

“That makes even less sense.”

“I can imagine,” Enya stated. “But you will understand. I promise you that. And please ignore Roth. He gets excited when we do introductions. It doesn’t happen often.”

“Whatever you say. Please continue. I don’t believe I’ve met…” Kale looked over toward the man sitting calmly on the opposite side of the table.

“Alexander,” the blond man offered. “Do not call me Alex. I don’t mean for that to sound like a threat, but it may as well be. It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Yours as well.” There was a time of silence where the men looked awkwardly between each other and the ground. Corten chose that moment to reenter the space, jolting every occupant from their thoughts.

“Are we all ready now to proceed?” Corten asked. There was a murmured consensus, and Corten held the door open for the men as they shuffled one at a time into the darkroom. As Kale hesitantly approached the opening, Corten grabbed his upper arm and held him in place. That white fire had long disappeared, and he had a look of understanding. Corten seemed to almost smile as he nodded his head and led Kale into the room.

The darkness was almost familiar now. Perhaps it was the recency of his last visit to the room, but it was unnerving for Kale. He felt attached to the place since meeting the men who seemed to be its only inhabitants—can they be called that?

The light returned as Corten released Kale back into the hallway. None of the other five men were there. Kale wondered if they had left or if they remained in the darkroom to take care of some poker-esque card-related business. His question was answered as he turned the corner and saw them standing in a close group and talking to one another by the door at the other end of the hall. They did not stop speaking as Kale approached, but the tones of their voices changed and their browlines flattened out and they stood up straighter. They looked as if they were avoiding suspicion of a drug deal. Kale was not sure he was prepared to hear what they were saying in the first place, so he disregarded the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Wait one moment before you depart.” Kale heard Corten’s voice from behind him and stopped to turn around. He nodded once, and Corten disappeared again, back into the darkroom, Kale assumed. When he again approached the group of men, Kale was not sure how to greet them. They were not friends. He barely remembered their names. Enya, Alexander-doesn’t-like-to-be-called-Alex, Roth-I’m-a-fiery-ball-of-gas, Kensomthing, and mister-I-have-no-name-Blake, he recounted in his head as he glanced from one to the other.

They had all looked so similar at first observation while sitting around the table. But now, Kale could see the pin-width black tattoo-looking lines under Blake’s hair, the extra wrinkles around Enya’s eyes, and the smallness of Alexander’s nose. Alexander was also the only blond one of the group—Kale had noticed that immediately. The other four men had dark heads of hair, some with brownish tints in places and others pure jet-black. They were all so similar at a glance, and they all seemed perfectly content to ignore Kale as he observed their actions. He was sure he would know these men longer than a day, or they would not have bothered to introduce themselves and offer such assurances of his future understanding. He had almost begun to pick up on their conversation when Corten snuck up behind him and placed his hands back on Kale’s shoulders.

“Are you ready to go? I can take you back to your building.” Corten offered. Kale had forgotten that he was not the one who drove to the mysterious building and would have had significant trouble returning home.

“Sure. Thank you.” Corten opened the door, and Kale walked out onto the metal staircase where a warm breeze accosted his hair. He stomped unceremoniously down the two flights of stairs as if holding back all of his energy while inside the building. Reaching the alley, he let Corten walk slightly in front of him, leading the way to his car.

“You know, this is going to be a grand ol’ time once we get you used to things. There won’t be any more slouching around hallways or darkrooms. I know you’ll learn to enjoy it all.” Corten smiled as he walked to the driver’s side of the car. “And who knows—maybe you’ll find one of your own someday. I mean, I’m sure you will.”

Kale was sure he had no idea what Corten meant, but he replied confidently, “Yeah, I’m sure. It’ll be fun.” He sighed as he sat down and sank into the black leather upholstery.

Corten looked at him and smiled again before turning on the car and pulling away from the curb. There were no words exchanged as Kale was dropped off at the entrance to his apartment building, and as soon as he reached his room, he kicked off his shoes and dropped down onto the bed to sleep.