Just something ive been writing in my spare time.....

The observer

Killer of clowns
Jul 6, 2007
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I dont know if this is the write place to put it, so mods, feel free to move.

A while back, I had this cool Idea for a book I call Soul of the Demon. Its about 6 kids in modern day New York, who have demons inside them. The premise is that the Slayers, a fanatical religous group of Demon hunters, have created a biological bomb, killing every non-hosted Demon on the planet. Heres the first part, please dont rip me off!

"Demons have no souls.
Thats what I thought to myself as I looked steadily into the eyes of my would be killer. I could hear Vulpes talking to me, telling me to break his neck. But I couldn't. I just looked at his eyes, filled with fear, as he stared back into my errie red ones.I bit my lip, and shut Vulpes out of my thoughts. Then broke his neck."

Just wanted to know what you guys think.
Keep going...

Right now it's just a paragraph and I can't really get a gauge on how you're doing.
Nice start, please keep going :)
Ok, heres around the 1st page from the beggining

Demons have no souls.
That’s what I thought to myself as I held my would-be-killer by the neck. I could hear Vulpes in my thoughts, telling me to break his neck. But I couldn’t. I just kept staring at his eyes, filled with fear, staring back at my eerie red ones. I bit my lip, and shut Vulpes out of my thoughts. Then I broke the slayers neck. He didn’t do much. He let out a small grunt of pain, and the light faded from his eyes. I dropped him, and watched as the light in the blue jewel imbedded in his sword disappeared. Then it disintegrated, the life-force keeping it alive gone. With a small snarl, I summoned up fire, and watched it engulf the lifeless corpse. Then I stopped drawing energy from Vulpes, and my eyes faded from red to their normal green. Then I stepped back into the flowing traffic of New York City, and listened to Vulpes, the incarnation of evil holed up somewhere inside my brain. Fun, fun, fun.
Are you listening now?
Unfortunately………… yeah. I replied.
So that’s 25. It's time.
Look, no offense, but I don’t really care about you're "master plan" I just want to keep living the way I have for the last 6 years.
Oh, OK, I didn’t know that you liked to run like a scared kindergartener every time a slayer pops up around the neighborhood. Ouch. I'll admit it, that remark stung a little. But I couldn’t let him see that, so I replied casually.
Yeah, I got a little bit paranoid after assassination attempt #7.
Wasn't that the suicide squirrel-bots?
My point exactly. Yeah, um, suicide squirrel-bots. Long story, you don’t want to know.
Look, I am a Demon. I really don’t care what you think about this. You have to do it. You have to get on the offensive. Stop running. Fight back.
I hate it when he's right, but sometimes I can swallow my pride.
Where do I start?

Just a few minuets later, I was cruising down some street in New York, it didn’t really matter which one.
Are you sure ones here? I thought to Vulpes.
Yes .It's the girl at two o'clock, with the light blue knapsack.
Roger, I replied, and scooted stealthily in behind her. She was pretty, but in a small sort of way, and wasn’t really worth a second glance. Which, guess, is a bonus when evading Slayers. She had pretty, kind of girl-next-door cute kind of features, and I light brownish hair border lining on red, which concealed a barely noticeable pattern to it.
Cat? I asked Vulpes.
Could be, he replied. Cats are a common enough form. It could be any furred animal though. You see, Demons influence their Hosts appearances. It could range from hardly noticeable, like on mystery girl here, to painfully obvious. I had seen both plenty of times. For example, I have a shock of rapidly growing hair the same shade of brown as my Demons coat. I waited for about ten minuets, following her down a few streets, Vulpes cloaking himself so her Demon couldn’t sense me. Then she stepped into a back alley, not unlike the one where the unfortunate Slayer had passed away earlier. After we entered, she whirled around, hearing my footsteps, there was murder in her eyes, a look I recognized easily.
"Wait, Wait!" I practically shouted, lifting up my empty hands. I was hoping that I could talk to her, and she wouldn’t attack. Long story short? She attacked me.
sorry if its hard to read the mental communication part. I had that in italliacts, but...

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