Faded Memories

Wed to the Night – Demo released!

Frore — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 22:45:11 +0000

For more information please visit www.forgotten-memories.com

Forgotten Memories – Visual Novels

Frore — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 21:52:07 +0000

A short update to inform the people that Faded Memories has evolved into Forgotten Memories. Instead of short stories, the focus will be on visual novels for your entertainment. There are no completed works as of yet, however a demo for the debut novel ‘Wed to the Night’ will be available in the upcoming weeks. You can visit the new site at:

www.forgotten-memories.com

Thanks for reading!

Faded Memories

Frore — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 22:14:06 +0000

As explained in the Reason page, Faded Memories was originally started to assist as an aid to writing in its many forms. Over the last two and a half months, I’ve produced works that total over 30,000 words, over a variety of subjects, foundations and inspirations.

However, as much as I’d like to continue this for longer, my ability to create such varied and original works over a long span of time is actually starting to run dry. Now, while you might think it isn’t that hard to write a few hundred words on a random original piece of work, over time it becomes a significant drain on other literacy aspects.

There is very little motive to concentrate on something bigger, like a novel/novella, because my mind is constantly flitting back and forth between a more long term plan and a short term. Not to mention, the creativity drain from both isn’t productive in the slightest.

That said, I’ll be taking an X long break from Faded Memories for a while, and in the meantime I will be working on a Visual Novel idea I have, based on the Choose your own Adventure premise. I will update here, and possibly continue these works, when it is complete.

Thanks for reading.

[072] Reincarnation

Frore — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 20:16:17 +0000

She could hear shouting, screaming. Ahead of her, an angry crowd approached, waving bats and wielding guns and knives. Frightened, she turned and ran down the long and narrow alleyway presented to her. Her feet splashed in murky, dank puddles as she tried to escape the mob that was chasing. She didn’t know why they were after her, but she could sense the need and the urgency for them to capture her, and so she ran.
It wasn’t long before her frail form started to burn, the muscles aching and her chest heaving for much-needed air. Turning to glance behind her, she watched as they began to gain, swarming down the alley like a tidal wave of bodies.
Her gaze darting around as she ran, looking for a hiding place or a door or ladder to escape, she found none, only the continuing alley that seemed to stretch for miles into the unknown. Panic started to set in when their voices got louder as they closed in. She turned once again to look at the mob chasing her and lost her footing. Slipping in a puddle she fell forward and landed hard on the concrete ground.
They were upon her.
Masses of hands, each pulling and tearing, trying to grab a hold of her. Feet, kicking and stomping down, preventing her from getting up or crawling away, a never-ending rain of blows. The wind was knocked from her, and she could only watch as they lifted her high up and set upon her with triumphant vigour. She screamed.
Suddenly, she found herself alone, in a small dark room. The grey concrete walls were dull and uninviting. The only thing of note was the desk in front of her, and the monitor on top of that. It was blank. She looked for an on switch when she heard the voice.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
She tried to turn, but was stuck in the chair, gazing forward. She found herself replying automatically.
“The same goes for you.”
“No, it doesn’t. There is a certain level of trust in all relationships. You have just thrown away your trust.”
“I want out.”
“So you steal information that you think will keep you safe from us, while you run.”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“Neither.”
Kim gasped as she felt something cold and hard being placed on the nape of her neck, pushing roughly into the back of her head.
“I will give you your wish, however. You will be out.” the voice said quietly and pulled the trigger.

[071] Cage

Frore — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 19:41:37 +0000

It was late when Kimberly finally got home, and she slid her key into the bronze lock and twisted gently, pushing the oaken door open slowly so as to not disturb whoever was inside. Silently, she moved into the dark hall and placed her holdall on the floor, turning to close the door and lock it. It was sad, she thought, that trapping yourself into your own home brought a sense of inescapability rather than the loving protection it should.
Gathering her bag, she left the lights off and tip-toed down the hall towards the stairs. As she passed the lounge, she could see her mother slumped in the corner of the old leather settee. An empty bottle of liquor was on the floor beside her feet, and she groaned and shifted in the chair. In front of her the television had been left on, and now all that it showed was the crackling static that danced around the dark room like it did on the screen. Creeping in, Kim turned the television off and left, pulling the door almost closed as she did. She hoped she’d not have to encounter her father as she traversed the rest of the house in the dim light. Work had been tiring, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with such a meeting.
When she slowly climbed the stairs and reached the safe haven of her bedroom, she allowed herself a sigh. Even something as small as checking her parents’ bedroom to see if her father was in the house was too much for her tonight, as she was well aware that anything could bring his anger out. Dropping her bag to the floor she walked over to her dresser and sat on the small chair in front of it. The reflection of a tired and weary girl smiled back at her forlornly, and she began to take the clips out of her long brown hair, causing it to fall in ringlets over her face and shoulders. Satisfied that they were all out, she opened the top drawer and produced a small packet of wet wipes. Taking one she begun to remove the layers of foundation and blush off her face. As the day’s makeup was cleaned away, the flowered colours of a bruised eye and cheek were slowly revealed. Tears sprung to her eyes as her hand touched the tender flesh, not yet healed and still sensitive. The cleaning done, she smiled at herself again, a small reassuring smile. It wasn’t effective at cheering her mood.

[070] Abduction

Frore — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 20:51:58 +0000

Charlie was annoyed. He’d been sitting in the passenger side of the van for almost two hours now. The winter chill had crept through the van, and he could feel his lower body start to numb and fall asleep in the hard, leather-backed seat. Next to him, Dingo had reclined the chair so he could lean back and stretch out, his dark eyes scanning the view from the windscreen.
In front of them lay a deserted street. It was coming up to midnight, and the temperature had dropped throughout the day. It seemed nobody wanted to brave the bitter cold that swept through the streets, and stayed indoors with the comfort of the heating and big blankets.
Dingo nudged Charlie, gaining his attention, and pointed to the far end of the road, where the street rounded and looped into a small cul-de-sac. At the end were three figures, huddled together and moving swiftly into the biting wind. Charlie nodded, and they both stepped out of the van.
“Excuse me?” He called, walking over to the group. They looked his way, but didn’t stop. “Hey, hey,” he tried again, this time moving in front of them, barring the path.
“Get out of the way, creep,” one of the girls shot. He raised his hands up defensively,
“Listen, my van has broken down,” he pointed to the old white vehicle with Dingo standing next to it. “Any chance one of you has a phone I can borrow?”
They eyed him suspiciously.
“No. Sorry,” the previous girl said again in a blunt tone.
“Come on, it’s freezing out here and I live miles away,” Charlie pleaded. “Look, I’ll give you the number to the breakdown company, you dial it, okay?”
The girl seemed happy with this compromise, and fished in her bag for her phone. Not saying anything, her two friends shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep the cold at bay.
“What’s the num…?” She started, but never finished.
Dingo had moved his large frame silently behind the lead girl and clamped a cloth around her face. Her eyes open wide from the shock and then rolled up into her head as she passed out from the fumes. Before the others could react, Dingo and Charlie seized them, giving them the same treatment. All three girls dropped without a sound.
Happy with the outcome, they picked up the lifeless bodies and carried them to the van. Within a few minutes, they were all loaded inside and Dingo had started the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving off into the night.

[069] Storm

Frore — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 20:40:22 +0000

The clear, azure-blue sky was slowly filled with clouds. At first it was one or two, wisps that looked like vapour-trails from passing aircraft, though it soon grew. Larger, puffy white clouds that resembled various objects moved along in their place and began to take up more room, joining together like a fluffy merger of bubbles.
As the sun sank below the horizon, the edges of the clouds were lit up with a brilliant flare of colours ranging from the lightest of whites to the deepest of purples. Through the light show, the clouds began to change colour themselves. The innocent, pure, white crumbled into a gun-metal grey. Nor did they stop there, proceeding until they looked laden with rain and violence, waiting for the signal to unleash their carried loads down onto the ground beneath.
Within them, a charge sparked and the entire mass found itself glowing with a new-found power. Minutes later, it gave a low, rumbling roar followed by the crack of a God’s whip.
On the surface below, people who hadn’t yet sought shelter began to renew and double their efforts after hearing the warning from above. It was only a brief warning, as seconds later waves and waves of heavy rain began to lash downwards with all their might. Encouraged by the wind that helped drive them downwards, each drop homed in on a specific target and shattered against it, coating their destination with their wet payload.
High up, lights flashed once again, this time multiple charges sending multiple shockwaves across the body of the newly created entity. Again this was followed by the sound of a roaring groan and cracking split as the heavens tore themselves open.
The storm had arrived.

[068] Death

Frore — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 21:08:39 +0000

‘Go on,’ breathed Silver silently, her body tense as she leant over.
Tark went to turn the card and hesitated, resting his hand on the desk, nearby.
‘What’s wrong with you, man?’ Silver hissed.
He chucked. ‘Silver, I was twenty-three years of age when I started reading. I’m now forty-six and only two people have made it this far. I doubt I’ll see another in my lifetime. Let me have this moment.
She nodded. He smiled and turned over the card. It was a skull. Death.
Silence filled the office as both occupants stared at the card in shock. Tark’s hands began to shake and he sat back, clasping them, trying to keep some measure of control over them. His eyes locked on the fated card of death. It had finally come out. After over twenty years and hundreds of attempts, it had reared its immortal head for the first time.
‘It came out,’ gasped Silver, pushing herself to her feet and holding onto the desk to help steady herself. She stared at Tark. ‘Check the gun!’
Tark grabbed the revolver and released the chamber, it slid open. The final bullet, the one that should have fired, hadn’t. Snapping the chamber shut, Tark aimed the gun at the target and squeezed the trigger, smoothly dissipating the shock of the recoil through his aged arm. The round landed dead centre. He placed the smoking gun on the desk, and sat back, tears in his eyes.
‘It came true, Silver, it really did…’ he spoke, his voice hoarse.
‘What… What does it mean?’ she asked her eyes wide and her body no less tense.
Tark smiled. ‘He’s going to die.’

[067] Selection

Frore — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 17:02:58 +0000

‘It’s been a while since someone passed your test, Tark. I think maybe you’re getting soft,’ said a voice from the shadows.
‘Maybe,’ he replied, and turned to watch the slender figure emerge from the darkness. ‘You weren’t worried?’
‘About what?’ the woman replied, removing black shawl from her face, revealing her dark ebony skin.
‘Being shot.’
‘Please. In all these years, I’ve only ever been shot once,’ she said. ‘And it was non-lethal, so it doesn’t count’
‘It was for him, Silver.’
‘Aye, that it was,’ she replied, remembering the scene well. A candidate had shot wildly, hitting her in the shoulder. Tark had killed the participant instantly. ‘Anyway, it’s my job to stop them from killing you, remember. The last round always makes them nervous.’
She slipped her own gun into a holster on her hip, and sat opposite the middle-aged man, putting her feet up on the corner of the desk. ‘How’d he do?’
Tark shrugged. ‘Let’s see.’
He reached forward and turned over the first card the youth had chosen. A faded picture of a head was shown, with the word ‘Understanding’ in black script beneath it.
‘One down,’ breathed Silver. Tark gave her an unimpressed look.
‘It’s not hard to misunderstand something about a gun, is it? You point and shoot, killing what you shot at. Just because he examined it doesn’t make him special.’
‘Yeah yeah, get on with it old man, or I’ll get greyer than you,’ she cut back playfully.
He flipped over the second card. It showed a crosshair. Tark sighed. The crosshair was a mark of accuracy. Despite missing the first shot, the shooter was confident in hitting what he intended. He flipped the third, which showed the evolution from ape to man. Adaptation. Only a handful of people had gotten this far before.
Silver had taken her feet off the desk now, and sat in earnest, watching the final two cards. She glanced at Tark, who returned the look.
Tark’s hand reached for the fourth card, and he flipped it quickly. The picture was blank, but the word beneath read ‘Conscience‘. He gasped. Four out of five.
Only two such people had reached this stage before. Both had failed the last. Those were deaths he had regretted, as the people were good people, strong in heart and mind. Just unlucky. There was only one card left.

[066] Sacrifice

Frore — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 14:37:18 +0000

The young man’s heart skipped a beat. Shoot himself? He took a deep breath, and tried not to show the shock on his face. He had been asked to shoot himself. Not through any emotion, just calm talking. There was no malice or hatred there. Was he really expected to kill himself? They both knew the chamber contained a live round, he had loaded it himself.
Slowly, to cover up his hand’s minor tremors, he raised the revolver to the side of his head, and pressed the still-warm barrel to his temple. He closed his eyes. He saw Tina there, staring at him, and guilt overcame him.
She had been kidnapped three days ago from their home. Lake was out working, and when he arrived back, the house was ruined and all that was left was a note with a figure on it for the girl. A large sum, one he could not even hope to earn in his lifetime. Desperation filled him, and he tried for loans. None were accepted, so he went into the darker parts of town. Parts where even cocaine and women were considered hard currency. Here he heard about Tark. A man that would give you one thing you wanted, in return for a small test with few rules. No one knew anymore about this mysterious offer, and now Lake knew why. They were all dead. How could he look after the child he swore to raise if he was dead? Opening his eyes, Lake felt a tear stream from one. His face reddened, blushing at the embarrassment. Tark’s face hadn’t changed. Lake pulled the trigger.
The sound of the click echoed into his mind.
He stayed there for a few seconds, confused. He didn’t realise Tark had started talking.
‘Thank you for your time, Lake. The money you asked for will be deposited to your account, and you will be escorted home.’
Lake looked down at Tark’s outstretched hand. His mind caught up. He wanted the revolver. Shakily, he gave it back to the older man, and nodded his thanks.
Tark watched the young man hand over the gun shakily, and nod. His eyes followed him as he turned and left the office, and he could hear the voices beyond. His eyes lowered themselves to the five cards on the desk, face down and untouched.