And so it begins

Thus far I have received only one Internet vote and two in-person verbal votes for which story I should write. At the moment, "In the Shadow of the Sun" is ahead by 1 vote. If this makes you unhappy, please voice your opinion on my last post. On the other hand, if this darker story intrigues you, please let me know you feel that way by voting as well. I'll keep listening for votes for another week (October ends next Tuesday), but then I start my marathon writing endeavor. For now, enjoy some disjointed samples from the story ("In the Shadow of the Sun") that I want to test out before I actually put them to use.

The sun was warm in an empty sky of clear blue, suggesting the fog Martin now saw in the valley was an impossibility. It was an inky black mist that seemed to cling the ground and flow, though not downhill but upwards. Hugging the bases of trees and moving in unnatural ways away from the stream bed hidden beneath it.

A small reddish bird flew down from a branch towards the fog and let out a shrill chirp as it disappeared into the fog. Martin could have sworn the fog reached out to grab the bird as it flew overhead, but he dismissed the thought from his head as quickly as it had risen.

Martin slowly scanned the area around his blind, confirming once more that he was utterly alone on the hill. He flicked the safety on his rifle and, after carefully covering the eyepiece on his scope, slung the rifle behind his back and took out his sidearm. The artificial bush he had erected had covered him for three days; a short while and an eternity at the same time. Four soldiers had met their end while Martin had occupied this hill, a number he would not soon forget. Rather than tempt his fate to the same end, he quickly gathered the rest of his field equipment and looked hastily at his topo map. Thinking for only a moment, he started to walk Southeast, the direction of his next nest, leaving the mysterious black haze in the valley below him.