WIP (Writing in Progress)

Welcome to my WIP page. Here you will find bits and pieces of some of my works. Some of it is “raw” and “un-edited” so take it as you may. but if you take the time to read it please leave me some feedback.

31 March 2016

A couple of chapters from another “Austin Jones Novel” – currently untitled

Possible Titles - The Pit, The Beings or Inescapable

About 4,700 words

He should be dead, he knew that much, the fall alone should have killed him, the guard he was still tied to was certainly dead. The impact crushed the air from his lungs and left him fighting for breath. He grunted at the stabbing pain in his side, a pain which suggested he might have cracked a rib or two, but he dismissed it. Pain was something he'd learnt to control; it was the bone that protruded through his right thigh that was high on his list of priorities right now.

He’d been trained or rather programmed to resist pain since he was young, they all were, but right now he knew he’d have to move fast before the carnivores in this so-called bottomless pit arrived.

His name was Aquila, a name he’d been given by his stargazing parents in reference to some constellation lying across the Milky Way, apparently it’s also Latin for “Eagle” or so he’d been told. He’d been born a free human 25 years ago, that was until life forms from an unknown world shattered the peaceful existence on earth in an invasion of the planet 13 years earlier. Aquila was now a minion, a fledgling under the murderous regime of life forms they called the beings, his parents were murdered in front of him when he was just 12 years old, and an act to which he vowed vengeance.

Since his capture during the invasion and subsequent civil war he’d been beaten and incarcerated into numerous institutions as an orphan brat and brought up with the vicious beings regime. Part of the indoctrination program the beings imposed on the interned humans was to endure untold pain and suffering for prolonged periods, including sleep deprivation, tolerance was believed to make one apparently superior, it was designed to at least intimidate the resistance movement or any humans that still defied the domination of the beings.

The beings had the unique ability to change their appearance and initially they took on the human form to deceive real humans during the early attacks, it was a strategy they found to be very effective, much to the determent of many human lives. It was not really known what the natural appearance of the beings actually was as they constantly changed from one form to another. Following the success of the human deception ploy, the beings maintained the human form long after the war; it became a physiological war of mind games. But it was not discovered until much later that the human appearance of the beings was not only more suitable to them as a deception ploy but it was downright critical to their survival on earth as opposed to their alien world. Despite being successful it wasn’t long before real humans were able to spot the difference, it was something about the eyes and the indifference to normal human behavior. In whatever life form they took on they were unable to maintain eye contact for too long, particularly with each over, which made them easier to spot. This was counteracted by an order to keep the head bowed and avoid eye contact with a superior, but the real humans were not fooled for long. They also appeared to lack the ability to smell and humor was something they just did not understand or display.

Fortunately there were humans who would not just roll over and be dominated and they held a great dislike to the oppressors and were as determined as ever to resist these invaders, but they had to be smart and learn how to outwit them even if it meant their own deaths. The resistance had begun.

When Aquila turned 18, he, like all minions interned within the camp was forced into the minion army where they were taught and brainwashed into believing the resistance was illegal and unjust. They were taught military tactics and given the training and techniques to combat the resistance and to survive in foreign environments, the latter included a series of torture related exercises which were meant to continue their program to resist pain and prevent reprogramming in the event they were captured in a raid. Their local commanders were other captured humans who were just as cruel as their own captors, at times the lines of the training blurred as to who had taken them prisoner as the ability to tolerate torture was at times unbearable even from their own kind. Some became so in tune with pain they became cold-blooded killers. There were also those that did not or could not survive such training, but Aquila and many more reveled in it without losing control and soon earned the praise of their masters. One of the first tasks on recruitment or drafting into the minion military was a tour of duty at the execution pit where they were forced to carry out the sentences’ served on those less fortunate, mostly their own kind. Outwardly Aquila would appear as a keen recruit eager to learn the ways of their captors, but over the years he’d secretly use every ounce of his newly acquired knowledge in acts against these oppressors. The idea that he could thwart a plan of a supposedly superior race appealed to him and on one raid into a apparently outlawed human region, they were to ambush a large number of rebel humans on their return to their camp, he left a sign on the trail and the humans were alerted to their presence and took an alternate path, never to be seen again. Unfortunately their furious and distrusting masters discovered the sign, and although it was claimed to be just a carelessly dropped item on the trail, they were all awarded twenty lashes and denied food for days. He considered it worthwhile when he found out later that there had possibly been more than 200 free humans in that encampment and apparently they never returned to it. Another time found him in thick bush scouting out in front of a patrol and on rounding a thick hedge he walked face to face into a free human, both men froze on the spot, he was just as surprised when neither he nor the other man wanted to attack or call a warning. The stranger wore clothing much like his own, roughly sewn leathers made of animal skins with moccasin type footwear, they were both bare-chested and deeply tanned except the stranger wore a red armband entwined with strips of animal skins around each elbow. They were both aged in their very early twenties and spoke briefly about how they came to be there, he learnt the free humans knew of allies on the inside, that someone had actually been helping them in their bid for freedom and they had been seeking a way to get word to them. The chance meeting was disrupted shortly after when the remainder of his minion troop blundered towards his location.

‘Hey, you see anything over this way?’ They called out to him.

‘No.’ ‘Nothing at all.’ He lied as he moved back towards their direction. The stranger lay at his feet, barely out of sight. The stranger asked for his name, to which he quickly replied in a whisper.

‘Aquila, my name is Aquila, but call me eagle.’

The stranger gave a quizzical look to the man he’d just met, but then the man who’d said his nickname was Eagle had gone, leading his comrades away from where he hid.

Aquila knew he was taking a chance using his real name it could have been a trap, but then he also used the nickname Eagle, because of the strong dominance the eagle represents, he thought, but more so because of the link to his name and he believed the beings wouldn’t know the significance of the representation. Anyway he figured it was out now and he’d have to stick to it now. The thoughts of how he could aid his countrymen filled his thought for the remainder of the day, so much so that it earned him an earful of abuse and a whack across the back of the head with the butt of a spear on a couple of occasions that afternoon.

‘Wake up stupid, keep a lookout for the enemy.’ A comrade roared at him.

He knew he owed no allegiance to these, things, or the stupid humans that had been brainwashed to their cause. But he wasn’t stupid either although he also knew his luck would eventually run out and he’d be caught and began to trust no one, for the art of deception to work it had to be that way, especially after he learnt survivors from numerous failed rebellions were punished by death by their own kind. He remembered the carrying out of punishment or executions was also done by the newest recruits and was part of the indoctrination lessons with two aims; firstly it was a way of blooding the new recruits into the minion army and secondly as a cruel display of the consequences served for disloyalty.

It had been years now, since the beings besieged his settlement with superior firepower, sheer numbers and cruel trickery. Since then they had systematically taken over the entire planet, murdering millions of humans in the process. All humans in captivity were called minions, regardless of status within their own organisation. Considering his ability to hide his real feelings he sometimes slipped up and on more than one occasion he managed to piss the authorities off no end with his carefree attitude and his apparent lack of respect for the beings authority or his ideas on how social injustices being forced onto society was a sign of oppression. He was well liked by his peers and had been warned many a time to keep his voice down lest he bring the wrath of the beings down on all of them. Outright defiance against the beings was the same as acting in a violent way towards them, they didn’t care if the humans killed each other. But a crime against the beings was a crime against the state warranted an immediate sentence, punishable by death, either by crucifixion or being thrown into the fearsome never-ending pit. The pit of death was just that, a death pit, it was a smooth sided circular pit about ten metres in diameter and was apparently bottomless. It had been named as such because the screams and wails of those cast within it appeared to be endless and no-one ever returned from the pit.

Aquila now stood before the pit of death. He had stood there as he had many a time in the past; he had been a fearsome warrior with the blood of many on his hands as an executioner at this very pit, he’d been tasked here many years before as a junior guard at the pit soon after his induction into the minion military. For a whole month at this pit he’ been forced to cast his own kind into and to inflict pain and suffering on others, at least the casting of his own kind into the pit was a quick death for them. He hated the crucifixions, the screams and moans for food or water for days on end will haunt his mind forever. He had hated himself for doing it but self preservation forced him endure it.

He remembered his time at the execution station well, he witnessed many atrocities, but he learnt quickly the way to act as a guard. He saw many of his fellow guards, all new, who were caught unaware and were dragged screaming into the pit with the very person they were tasked to throw in, and he also saw others cut their bonds too early and the accused managed to escape, which would earn the guard an immediate death sentence. He particularly remembered the first time he was tasked to throw someone in the pit, as usual the guards would draw straws and he was paired with another equally new recruit who’d also drawn a short straw.

The supposedly guilty man, although huge, was wild with fear and as the order was given to carry out the sentence the condemned man threw himself onto the ground and clawed at the earth to prevent the inevitable. Most of the guards had seen this ploy before and been ready to cut their bonds and throw the man to his death. This time the other guard must have either been a fool or was unsettled by the display of grovelling and was a little slower than he was and as the condemned was tossed into the pit he discovered much too late that he was still tied to the man and was subsequently dragged screaming to his own death along with the condemned man, ever since Aquila ensured he was wary and quick with the blade.

Aquila now stood before the pit of death once more, although this time he wasn’t a guard. He now stood in the same place as a condemned man himself, a decorated veteran of numerous campaigns, he still wore the finest animal skin clothing of a warrior and his feet were adored with only the best leather sandals, an animal skin armband that bore a knotted red cloth above his right elbow. His eagle breastplate still shone, his attire showed he had once been held in high regard for he was well fed and was not tortured like many others.

The minds of those with too much power in their hands is hard to understand, they see anyone as a threat, and so, someone way up the chain of command saw him for what he really was and wanted him gone. No-one wanted to carry out the task, but outright refusal only meant death for them also. Aquila had been treated with at least some respect and for this he was grateful. The order had been given and had to be obeyed as their word was law.

Aquila stood there and contemplated not only his own fate but that of those currently tied to him. He looked back at his friends and comrades briefly for he knew many among them would have gladly have taken his place. He switched his gaze to that of pure contempt to those in control of the proceedings, the traitorous butchers were no better than the beings themselves, who were just lifeless forms, he knew they too had their superiors but he still hated them.

Like an almighty warrior he rolled his shoulders and flexed his muscles, testing the bonds that secured him to each guard, he found them not only tight about his wrists but also slightly longer than they used to be when he was a guard; maybe they’d learnt something he thought. He sensed their apprehension and eagerness as their eyes darted back and forth, obviously this pair had drawn the really short straws. A drum roll was played in the background, another new addition he thought. The drum roll reached a crescendo and then stopped and the order to carry out the sentence commenced, it had hardly left the lips of the speaker when without hesitation Aquila took them all by surprise and stepped briskly towards the edge of the pit, it was so quick it left the guards dragging their feet and fighting to remain upright. They reached for their knives, but they were uneasy, knowing the consequences of cutting loose too early and they now stalked him hesitantly. Because he wasn’t really retaliating or fighting them directly they thought he’d accepted his fate and was ready to die, they realized too late just how wrong they were.

They stepped in close, the guard on his right pulled the bond on his side tight, he withdrew his knife and with an upward motion cut free the lashing that bound them together, but he failed to notice the other guard had stepped in closer and the extra length of the bonds had given Aquila the freedom to move. As the guard cut the bonds Aquila struck and before anybody knew what had happened, he’d rotated his arm following the same direction as the guard, but behind and inside, clamping a strong hand over the wrist which held the knife, he continued the momentum and ultimately drove the blade deep into the guard’s throat. He pushed him away and the guard fell silently into the pit. It was a standard maneuver taught and practiced until perfection, but he knew these new guards would not have been taught that yet. The second guard quickly recovered, he was larger than his unfortunate comrade, but now he came at him, his face seething, eyes full of rage, seeking revenge for his comrade; he was still reluctant to cut the bindings until he was sure he could throw the accused into the pit. The crowd bellowed both obscenities and approval at the display like the bygone days of the gladiators, the non-humans merely watched with semi interest at the proceedings.

Although the guard had size for an advantage, he was young and had no experience as an executioner, the accused however had many years experience in the minion military and had worked as an execution guard himself at the pit more times than he’d care to remember. The circle of the crowd moved in closer, hemming them into an even tighter circle, he knew his chance to escape had now long gone and he shouted out that if he was going to be thrown into the pit then he’d take as many of them as he could. The crowd was wild with hatred and a number of fights broke out spilling into the center and within arms reach of the accused and the guard, they all erupted in raucous laughter when a few onlookers disappeared screaming into the pit. Another traitorous man also became a victim of the pit when he tried to knock Aquila into the pit only to find he was then pushed back by Aquila’s comrades and finally into the pit bringing a great roar from the crowd.

Although he didn’t succeed in his attempt to push Aquila in, it did give cause for Aquila to take his eyes off the other guard momentarily, a moment the guard seized and launched himself at his adversary with his knife held high which whistled to within a whisker of Aquila’s throat, he felt the sting of the blade. He instinctively grabbed for his throat expecting a great gash and blood and finding very little, he then stepped in behind the guard and with his foot added to the guard’s momentum towards the pit. The Guards face was aghast with fear when he realized he was going over the edge, the bond between them stretched to full length and the guard slid over the edge and out of sight and he screamed in pain as his foot was impaled on the first of many bamboo spikes, despite his agony his momentum was halted momentarily and he was only being held in place now by Aquila on one end of the rope and his impaled foot at the other end. Aquila had braced himself to take the guard’s weight and to stop himself being dragged into the pit by the heavier man. When the movement towards the pit had stopped suddenly and he heard the man screaming in pain, he gathered the bonds and stepped closer to see what had impeded the guards decent and he saw the spike through the man’s foot. He soon realized the predicament he was now in if he were to let the man fall, but if he were to break the bonds he would be able to let the man fall free and hopefully escape in the following melee. Without a knife in reach Aquila moved quickly and his sudden movements back and forth along the hard edge of the pit brought screams of agony from within the pit and the crowd realized his intent was to wear the bonds along the edge of the pit, to the point of breaking. The crowd crept forward, closing in on Aquila, not wanting miss how it all ended, they were more than twenty men deep all around the pit, the pushing and shoving from behind sent three or four more unfortunates into the pit and then suddenly it was all over. The crowds moved back from the pit and all that could be heard was the pitiful screams of the falling men.

The beings and their butcherous supporters were searching frantically for sign that a rescue attempt had been made and had the entire area sealed off and searched, even the secret followers of Aquila made feeble attempts to look stern at the thought of an escape, although many were concerned they’d been left out of the plan, if there was one.

Next chapter

At the base of the pit, among those who'd recently fallen victim to it, sat a survivor, the condemned warrior, he’d not only survived the fall into the so-called never-ending pit of death, but he was also keen to find a way to get out, even if it was just to tell them they’ll have to consider a change in the name for their precious pit, but that would have to wait for now, he thought.

It seemed that over the centuries the pit has been slowly filling up with not only the bones of the unfortunate, but all the crap anyone wanted to get rid of. He found the dead guard who fell still tied to him and the other fresh bodies at the bottom of the pit acted like a cushion to break his fall. He was virtually uninjured, well except the searing pain in his side and the small matter of the bone that was protruding through his leg.

The smell in the pit was awful, but the stench of death often was. The smell of blood, his blood too, reached his senses and reminded him that the carnivores’ senses would be even keener and would even now be on their way. The area beneath him moved ever so slightly, but enough to make his skin crawl.

‘Damm cleaner bugs’. He said out loud.

Cleaner bugs were carnivorous bugs that devoured just about anything; they were about the size of a small lobster, definitely in the crustaceans group of arthropods, they were almost the land equivalent to the piranha of the waterways. They were ugly and absolutely terrifying creatures. The bugs were not native to this planet, they also came with the other ugly beasts and as they were superb land dwellers as well as water creatures, the beasts introduced them many years ago to help dispose of the garbage that any civilisation ultimately creates, however, like most introduced species they went feral and their unreliability was discovered too late even for the beasts themselves. They were initially used to help clean up the battlefields during the wars with the beasts. The cleaner bugs developed a particular liking to human flesh, although they were not prejudiced against the beasts and ultimately ate them too. The bugs ate basically anything and eventually they were not overly bothered if the host was alive or dead, which was unfortunate for some. The only control measure was to keep them in deep pits to act as live garbage disposals, but it was known that they also inhabited the remote wild lands also.

He knew the smell of fresh blood and the vibrations from his movement on the bones in the pit would have the bugs heading up from below, and if he didn’t get clear soon the bugs would no doubt clean him up too. He thought it was his lucky day for he found that the bone protruding through his leg was not his own, merely a random bone from a previous unfortunate occupier of the pit. With gritted teeth and a swift downward jerk, the bone was withdrawn and immediately speared into the soft earthen wall of the pit and hammered home with another large bone. To stem the bleeding from his leg he tore strips from the clothing of one of the bodies that surrounded him. He then grabbed a sharp bone and began to saw the bond that held him to the dead guard. His next task was to collect other broken bones and repeat the process of ramming them into the earthen wall of the pit to the left of the first one, his intent was to repeat the pattern and start a makeshift shelf for himself to seek refuge on from the bugs, but then it occurred to him that he could possibly build some sort of makeshift staircase in the wall. He set a few more into the wall higher than the others and as far as he could reach and he began to scale his improvised steps in an attempt to get beyond the reach of the dreaded bugs.

He’d no sooner cleared the bones at the base of the pit when the first of the bugs appeared in search for the source of the blood. Within minutes the pit was boiling with them, the ferocious bugs piled up higher and higher, no doubt furious at being denied a meal from him as they made short work of the dead guard and the others who fell into their lair. The noise they made was terrifying and the man that clung precariously from the wall was certain they would topple him from his perch and send him to a horrible, but no doubt quick death.

He was a strong and healthy man in his mid twenties, the training he’d been subjected to would hold him in good stead, the fall into the pit and subsequent scramble to escape the bugs had sapped his strength, but not his will. His side ached with fury and he was sure he’d cracked a rib. It took great effort but he slowly climbed upwards towards the seemingly never ending circle of light above him. He needed to reach into his reserves as it took an extreme effort to continually reach down to remove the lowest makeshift step and hammer it into a higher position. The higher he climbed the harder the wall of the pit became and if he was to complete his escape, he’d need to conserve his strength. As he rested, his mind wandered to the final minutes before he was cast into the pit. He‘d been charged with inciting discontent within the community after numerous incidents where he either questioned or ignored authority, subsequently he was found guilty long before he’d got anywhere near a trial.

After what seemed like an eternity he finally reached the lowest of the bamboo spikes, although some held the rotting remains of someone less fortunate they aided his climb to the rim. Luck was still with him as only a short time later he discovered the body of the first guard who he’d sent into the pit, he’d been impaled on a spike through the chest, the knife still embedded deep within his throat. With the aid of the newly acquired knife and the spikes, his climbing speed was certainly aided and an hour later he’d reached the final few feet to the rim of the pit. The sun was setting and although he knew the torches would have been lit before nightfall he also knew the pit area was usually deserted at sundown. His senses were heightened and although he was exhausted he had to restrain himself from just leaping out in case someone had remained at the pit. He poked his head up to find it was all clear and he quickly slipped away into the shadows.