Samuel Whittaker
Bio
Stories (8/0)
Purgation
The adrenaline of a choice. What should go? How quickly? It is as if my blood is the very accelerant that will inflame this blaze into an inferno. I am a diviner, a member of a forgotten, holy order, who is graced with a special insight into the possibilities of this world. But since it is still so far from this vision, I must rectify the situation and be an instrument of change. I play such a sweet, melodious tune, like a pianist whose every keystroke is more profound than the last. I, however, never leave my fingerprints behind on my masterpieces; that is quite unprofessional. I prefer for people to only construe that I am present because of my work.
By Samuel Whittaker2 years ago in Fiction
Ice Angel
The solid surface beneath me became a cold, dark mouth of death that swallowed me so fast I only had a chance to take half a breath. In an instant, I was enveloped by a pair of freezing arms which squeezed with such force that my chest felt as if it had an anvil dropped on it. Every muscle in my body felt the shock of the frozen water, but none of them moved in response. I was a lifeless marionette cut from my strings, slowly slipping further and further away from the world of memory and love…
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction
Trampling the White Snake
I woke to a discourteous bucket of cold water being splashed into my face. I sputtered and took a recovering breath, only to inhale a mouthful of soggy burlap. The momentary sensation of suffocation jarred me for a moment, but I relaxed just as quickly. I must not appear the least bit fazed. These people were experts, they knew how to manipulate fear and extract what they wanted from even the most hardened and seasoned operative. I was neither of those, this being only my second mission, so I had to keep my cool and mental toughness. Too many lives were at risk if I didn’t.
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction
Vanishing Act
The city streetlights were just coming on as Adam left the Italian restaurant on Fifth Street, a small hole-in-the-wall eatery, known as “Papa Giovanni’s”, having just filled his stomach with a delicious and calorie-rich lasagna. The orange-gray colors of dusk were rapidly giving way to the impending night. A fresh rainfall coated the streets and sidewalk, reflecting the pale luminescence of the lamps in an eerie and yet oddly comforting way. A faint drizzle still remained, which prevented Adam from turning his walk back to his apartment in a leisurely stroll. Instead, he turned up the hood on his tattered, black rain jacket, which honestly did very little to prevent him from getting wet, and kept a swift, dignified pace.
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction
The Founding of the World and the Creation of Akanía
Long before recorded time nothing was that exists as it does now. The entire world of being was contained in only one thing: darkness. The darkness of the sky could not be distinguished from the darkness of the sea. All appeared as one. Nothing dwelled in the world. However, there did exist two uncreated and unchanging beings. One dwelt above the darkness of the sky, the other dwelt below the darkness of the sea. They were brothers. The one above the sky was called Cellístus and the one below the sea was known as Marrístus. They coexisted but never involved themselves in each other’s affairs.
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction
The Fire Within
6 YEARS. I survey our campsite, taking stock of all that we have brought. Tent, kayak, sleeping bags, a variety of packaged foods, and most importantly, matches to start the campfire. I have waited for years for this trip. Dad always said I was too young, but now that I am six he can’t say that anymore. My brother was six when he went on his first trip, so now I have finally earned the right. My mom was hesitant to let me come of course. She said I am far too young to go kayaking in “that dangerous river”, which is really no more than a big creek. I, however, have very little interest in water. In fact, I hate it. Water makes you cold, wet, and gives you hypothermia. What I want is something quite different.
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction
I Am Left
They told us that the earth was dying. Humanity had so greedily plundered mother nature of her resources that soon there would be nothing left but dust and ash. They told us though that they had a solution, a means to save the earth and its inhabitants from choking themselves to death. In our fear we listened. They called themselves the Alliance for the Preservation of Earth and Humanity. No one quite remembers from where they came but it only took them months to have the ears of every major world power around the globe. They said they had conclusive evidence that if the population growth of the world continued on its current catastrophic trajectory, the world’s resources would be 95% depleted in less than 150 years. No one thought to question them. We hung on to their every, hypnotic word like a bunch of pathetic marionettes, letting them reprogram our very thoughts as if we were mindless robots. Though in a sense most of us had become almost robotic, devoid of emotions and compassion, driven solely by an animalistic instinct for survival. To kill or to be killed.
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction