1. When you receive the Blog Award of DOOM your task is to post a short selection of your writing, 100-300 words, in which your favorite character suffers a horrible fate. It can be your favorite character from your own writing or from something you've read, it can be from a finished manuscript, a WIP or something you just made up on the spot. Your choice, but it has to be full of DOOM!
2. Pass it on to one other blogger and let them know their DOOM has come.
3. Remember that the person who passed the award on to you also received it as well. Go back to their post to read and comment on their writing sample. Make sure to thank them for sending the DOOM your way.
4. Whenever you use the word DOOM in your post, you must capitalize the whole thing.
As such, I will tap Nate Wilson who seems like a ridiculously nice fellow. Let us see his dark side. I'll also give a nod to Jennifer Hillier whose debut thriller CREEP releases July 5th.
As for my own offering of DOOM! I have picked an excerpt from an epilogue that originally appeared at the end of my dystopian sf manuscript, JEHOVAH'S HITLIST. It did not make the final cut (a pun!), but I will most likely post it as a short story here on the site. See after the jump for...DOOM!!!!
(Also, for some context, this scene features quadruplet brothers all of whom are named Joe.)
The water wasn't stopping. It was rising and fast. Seated on the ground, it already came up to their bellies.
“What do we do?” Joe3 screamed.
“Climb.” Joe1 pointed at a ledge above them. They scanned the wall for handholds but there weren't any to be found.
“On me,” Joe1 said. They used to play this game when none of them was tall enough to jump to the fire escape ladder on their own. Joe2 hopped on Joe1's shoulders. It was hard to keep their balance with the water pounding against them, harder still when Joe3 climbed up to stand on Joe2's shoulders.
“I got it!” Joe3 called back down.
“What about Joe?” Joe2 asked of his youngest brother.
“I'll hand him up once you got yerselves a perch,” Joe1 said. Their youngest brother by a few hours sat between his legs, unconscious and bleeding.
Joe3 found himself a stable spot and hung upside down. He grabbed Joe2 by the wrists and hauled him up. Then he flipped upside down, Joe3 taking him by the ankles. They hung down and reached. The water was over Joe4's head now, up to Joe1 chest even though he was standing.
Joe1 fought hard to pull his brother up out of the water, the current trying to suck him under completely and wash him away down the street. Joe4's head broke the water. He coughed violently, confused but conscious.
“I don't need no bath, Anna,” he insisted, slapping at Joe1.
Joe1 wrapped his arms around him and threw him upward inch by inch until he was almost sitting on his shoulders. He was high enough Joe2 could grab his shirt and hoist him up.
By the time they got Joe4 situated so he wouldn't knock himself off again, the water was up to Joe1's shoulders.
“Yer turn,” Joe2 shouted, hanging upside down again.
“I cain't! The water's too strong!” Joe1 did his best to hold onto the wall, but the water still roared through the crack in the wall, washing everything away.
“You got to!” Joe2 yelled.
“You got to! You said you was gonna teach me how t'whistle. I cain't whistle!”
The water rose up over Joe1's head, turning any response into bubbles.
“Joe!” his brothers screamed, but his head never reappeared.
Joe2 kicked at Joe3's hands until Joe3 dropped him. He dove into the water after his brother. He never came up from the water. Joe3 jumped in shortly after.
Joe4 lay on the precipice of the building, bleeding and confused. He watched his brothers drown. He did not cry when the water rose past the second floor, when it lapped at his face, or when it eventually overtook him. He did not try to run.
He had always done everything with his brothers.