It's more than just extracts, by the way

I've moved back up to Sheffield for the next three and a half months, for more animation fun and fancy free frolics. And things have been pretty productive: playing Tekken 6, watching films and doing absolutely nothing else. I wrote a couple of reviews, but they won't be up on the public internet for three days. Here's some I prepaired earlier

My first class of the semester is on Monday and it starts at 9, which automatically makes it my least favourite class of the course. Ho hum. Till then I'll keep writing up bits of Dial M for Mephistopheles 2 till I run out of ideas. I should really put the first one up on the internet. Here's another random extract:


A godless place. That’s what the world had become. A godless place is dangerous. Nothing can live in a godless world, especially not anyone born from the Devil. The Antichrist shivered, and tried to cover himself with a blanket, but the cold wasn’t outside. It came from inside and every second it was destroying another part of him. Armageddon shouldn’t have happened. There should have been a warning, and rapture ... everything. But there wasn’t. One second there was life, the next there was nothing. Where had everyone gone? Surely they hadn’t been taken into heaven, or dragged into Hell. There hadn’t even been a show. No riders, or monsters or angels. He wanted to hit something, but he felt tired and cold. He sat in his small broken church, and tried to pray. But he knew it was pointless.

There was a noise behind him. Footsteps on the stone floors, possibly heels. He turned around slowly, aching in every bone. A female voice spoke. The Antichrist had never heard the voice before, but somehow it seemed so familiar, like he knew it from birth. “Hello,” she said. “Who are you?” he said the hazy figure in front of him. He couldn’t tell if his eyes weren’t working properly if she was like that. The blurry figure moved towards him. She might have been wearing a tight red dress, but it seemed to flow behind her like smoke. He couldn’t see her face properly. She spoke again. “My, my, how you look terrible, my son.” Every word was enunciated perfectly, with a voice so sharp it could stab through armour.   “...What?” The Antichrist couldn’t hear very well. Then something dawned on him. “I ... I know you. You were in ... my dreams.” The female form in the tight red dress stood next to the Antichrist, now. She crouched down, so she was at the same level as he. He could finally see her face now, although he couldn’t put a single word to describe it. She looked into his eyes. “Oh, my, now that’s very flattering, Chris,” she said. There seemed to be no implied tone in her voice. She spoke, or maybe she was just planting words into his mind. “Chris ... you know ... my name? You know me, don’t you?” “Of course I know you, dear. You would think that the only person you’ve seen since you ... since you massacred everyone would be just a human? You think you are, love, but you’re so much more.” “I didn’t kill anyone!” Chris screamed. Or rather, he tried to scream. He only choked the words out. “But you did. You did all of this, you know. All your fault. There’s retribution at some point in the line, you know. Suffer for your sins. But we’re not up to that.” Chris could barely think. He was shivering still, but somehow the presence of the woman made him a bit warmer. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Just tell me what you want.” “I want you, dear. You need to finish what you started.” Then it dawned on Chris. “You ... you killed her! In my dream! You did it, you caused all of this!” He tried to lunge towards her, but she vanished and reappeared five inches further left. Chris fell on his stomach, lying on the stone ground. He made an attempt to get back into his sitting position. “Dear boy, that’s not called for. Now you need to stop messing around. I have more things to do.” She stood up, and beckoned him to do the same. “Come on, you’ll feel so much better with me.”


And then more shit happens