The writer's story (bxb)

Chapter 1

  I sit down behind my typewriter, after not having written in some time when my old typewriter broke down. I've always preferred working with these old writing gear as it seems to give the story something 'extra', a bit more authenticity. Something you don't get when you write on a computer.

My fingers are aching to type the words running around in my head, and I'm grinning from ear to ear as I think about what kinds of adventures my hero will experience. Which quests he has to conquer, and which damsels he will save. But I already know where he'll start his journey. Heroes need a sidekick after all...

He rides past a village as a strong burning scent reaches him. Cries of help reach his ears next. He doesn't hesitate for a moment and sends his horse towards the steadily growing sound of panicked voices in the distance.

While I'm writing, the words start dancing in front of my eyes. I close them for a moment, rubbing them, and as I look back at the paper everything seems normal again. I chuckle and shake my head, thinking I just imagined it to happen before I continue writing again.

Eventually, he finds himself at a small farmhouse which is burning up fast. A group of people has already gathered around it, staring in awe and shock. As a scream sounds from inside the house they all seem to stare at the door, too scared of getting hurt themselves to do anything to save the person trapped inside.

He looks around at the spectators, rolling his eyes. "Weaklings," he mutters as he jumps off his horse and runs over to the house, pulling the door open and covering his face with his arm as little embers are blown towards him. Taking a deep breath, he walks inside.

Staring at the page, the words start jumbling together again, though this time it doesn't stop when I rub my eyes. I reach out for the paper to take it out, convinced that the problem lies with the ink or something, though as I grab the piece of paper a bright flash blinds me and I quickly close my eyes.

***

I wake up to the smell of something burning. Coughing, I open my eyes which immediately start to burn and tear up because of all the smoke in the room. The unbearable heat is what hits me next, I'm sure it wasn't this hot mere seconds ago.

I slowly work myself up on my hands and knees, putting my arm over my mouth and using my shirt to breathe in something other than smoke. "What happened here?" I ask myself as I look around, though I can hardly see anything but smoke and a certain red glow coming from all around me. My eyes widen as I suddenly realize what's going on.

"Fire!" I call out, crawling over to where I remember the door should be while trying not to breathe in too much of the smoke.

Eventually, I get to the wall, but I can't seem to find the door while the smoke is getting thicker and thicker. It's getting harder to breathe and my skin is starting to blister from the heat alone.

I take a deep breath and call out for someone, anyone to come and help, though I'm sure it's hopeless. I live in a neighborhood where a lot of houses are up for sale, and most of the neighbors I do have, have been retired for quite some time.

By now, it's getting harder and harder to stay awake and my breathing comes out in slight hitches. This is it, I realize, I'm going to die from smoke inhalation before being burned to a crisp.

Just as my eyelids start drooping, I hear something slam and it takes a moment for me to realize that it's a door hitting a wall. Someone's coming for me after all!

I gather all my strength and call out again, coughing afterward.

From the corner of my eyes, I can see a figure walking up to me. They crouch down in front of me before picking me up and carefully making their way back outside. For some reason, it seems like we're taking a different route out of the building as I usually have to take, but I don't pay much attention to it as I'm busier with trying not to breathe in too much smoke.

Once we're outside, my savior carries me away from the house, which I now realize doesn't look anything like my own house. I open my mouth to ask where I am, but all that comes out are coughs.

I'm put down and my savior first turns around to the villagers gathered around the burning building, telling them all what to do before walking over to a horse and grabbing something out of one of its bags after which he crouches down next to me again.

"Here, drink something before you try to speak," a deep, sexy, male voice tells me. I look up to study my savior, his skin darkened by many days living outside under the bright sun, his deep brown hair tangled. His clothes surprise me though, they look like something out of a history book. He's wearing a white tunic over which he wears a leather jacket. Under that, he's wearing a light-brown, linen pair of pants.

As I look up at his face again I can't help but stare at his vibrant, green eyes. After a moment of staring, they meet my blue eyes and I can't help but look away, ashamed that he caught me while I was obviously checking him out. Truth is that he seems familiar somehow, though I have no idea where I know him from.

Instead of saying anything about it though, he just holds out the waterskin for me to take. Only when I reach up to grab it, do I see that I'm not wearing what I was wearing earlier. I look down to see that I'm wearing a tunic not unlike his, though mine is more of a beige color, which is blackened by the smoke, and slightly burned around the edges. Under it, I'm wearing black, woolen pants.

Taking the waterskin, I quickly put it to my mouth and drink until the taste of soot is gone. I then run a hand through my dirty-blond hair and look back at the guy. "Who are you?" I ask, my voice still slightly raspy as I hand the waterskin back.

The guy sends me a charming smile as he takes a gulp as well. "My name's Nathaniel, but you can call me Nathan," he says, holding out his hand for me to grab, though all I can do is stare at him. "This is usually when you tell me your name," he chuckles when I haven't said anything after a few minutes.

"I-I'm Alexander, I mean, Alex," I blurt out, still looking at the guy, suddenly realizing why he looks so familiar. I haven't just seen him before, I made him up. He looks exactly like the main character from my newest book, better yet, I think he is my character. But that can't be the case, can it?