Writers Block

"I have no stories in me"

That, and so many other similar lines filled the Archers page. It was bullshit. Endless amount of coffee wasted for no work.

It was 2am here, his little apartment pitch black besides his screen, the top corner streaming his Netflix. Background sound while he thought about writing.

Come on man" He whispered to himself, knowing how crazy he seemed. "Think. Think John Connolly, Koontz, hell even think Stephen King."

Archer scanned his desk hoping to find a sliver of inspiration, a gleam of hope. My eyes settled on his mug.

Killer Coffee?

"I'm going to bed"

He woke the next morning, the world just as gray as the day before. Drab.

He grabbed a pair of jeans and headed for the fresh air.

His housemate, Nathan, was already outside. Half a smoke down

"Sup?"

"Sup"

And nothing else was said as Archer rolled his own smoke. His fingers weren't awake enough, fumbling the paper as he tried to smooth it over.

"Having fun over there?" Nathan asked.

"Grand time" He replied. Nathan knew the deal.

The smoke lit, the sun not too bright, Archer could finally relax a bit. He had even slept stressed, right on his shoulder. He wasn't old, but he was definitely feeling it.

"You look like shit" Nathan piped up with, finally cocky enough now Archer had a smoke.

"It's not too early to hit you man, just remember that" Archer replied, a half-smile under his smoke so Nathan knew he only half meant it.

"That's always your excuse" Nathan said, knowing it was a good way to get a stress ball thrown at him.

Nathan left him alone to grieve his abilities, the thrill of smoking was dying off now that his parents didn't stop him. Right now, the only thing killing him was this story and he loved it.

Death, robes and all, stalks a man through purgatory. Never letting him die, never letting him live.

Sure, his elevator pitch needed work, but the story should be writing itself.

It had horror, comedy and even a little love thrown in for all the people too insecure to buy romance.

He finished his smoke, ready to procrastinate for a few hours, coffee was needed.

Lucky for Archer, his favourite coffee shop lay on the corner of his street. Coffee hub, not an original name, just good coffee.

"The usual" the server, Becky didn't ask as she handed him one of the larger cups.

"You're too good to me" He replied, a dramatic but sincere hand over his heart.

"You tip well" A coy smile on her face as she motioned to the jar. Archer knew she didn't always expect him to, but he liked doing it.

"Feel like keeping me company?" She asked. "Just till other customers come"

Archer looked around the quaint, but full cafe. "Yeah, and none of these customers do it for you?"

He waved his hand towards the crowd. Almost like magic, a little old lady appeared, making her way up to counter and ordering one coffee

Archer couldn't help himself, leaning over her way "I loved you in titanic by the way"

The lady's face turned to disgust, like he had just spit down her throat. Her mouth opened to say something, but he was ready.

"Chill Grandma, I meant Kate Winslet" 

Becky came back with the drink, the woman muttering to herself as she hobbled back to her table.

"What did you say to her?

"Told her I was a big fan of her work"

"Who is she?"

"No idea"

As much as he wanted to stay, the pages didn't fill themselves. So, he promised he would be back in a few hours.

Nathan was out by the time Archer got back, probably for the best. He needed complete silence.

"I have no more stories" that was his start.

He kept pushing through the writer’s block, each word pulled from him like a molar.

Eventually there sat a full page of writing. His main character, was hopeless. Years spent living alone making him bitter, Archer made a point to mention he had no pictures on his walls. People didn't like him.

But that was just one page, and so many to go. First he needed food, his munchies gone unheard for too long.

A sandwich sounded so good right now. Mustard and Aioli atop homemade pickles and pulled pork. If he wasn't a shitty writer, he could have been a great chef. But why make it easy on himself.

He needed to get at least five pages done today, just enough for a start. He couldn't put it off any more

Nathan strolled through the front door "you busy?"

"Nah"

The kitchen carried the evidence of Archers lunch. Something his housemate seemed to take notice of.

"Sorry"

Nate brushed this off. "Right. So, I went to see Eddie today"

"Eddie with the hot older sister, Eddie?"

"Yes, Eddie with the hot older sister, Eddie" He confirmed for him. "Anyway, I wanted to..."

"Did you say hi for me?" Archer cut in.

"Did I... what?

"To Eddies hot older sister"

"She wasn't there, sorry mate"

"That's all good, you tried. So, Eddie?"

"Right. Eddie. Long story short, I got us these."

He held out his hands, a little baggie between his fingers. Two pills

They were purple, in a shade he had never seen before.

It didn’t exactly take too long to get him convinced, all Nathan had to say was “for the writing” and he was already swallowing one.

They put him in front of the computer and waited, and waited, and it was beautiful.

He couldn’t stop the words once he started. A beautiful river of story started flowing out of him, words taken from angels above him, painting the scenes aa perfectly pictured in his mind.

He told the story of Death, a monster confined to stalk the earth, hunting for souls to be judged. His home, purgatory, was the sorting grounds of hell and heaven. But sometimes souls escaped the sorting, and it was Deaths job to deal with them.

So, the hunt for Adam Falks soul began.

“I love it” Nathans face didn’t lie, the finished first draft in his hands. He liked to print the stories out, made them feel real.

“Even the leg part” Archer asked, not wanting to believe his friend.

“Oath. Best part”

“Yeah well, I figured death has a scythe, gotta use it at some point”

“So, what’s next?” His housemate asked him, a greedy look om his face.

“What do you mean? That’s it” Shocked even he wanted more.

“So, we don’t know if death gets him?”

“Yeah”

“Nah, rewrite it”

“Screw you”

Archer knew he was right, but the ending was the hardest part to write. How could he finish this beautiful story that taken him so long to even be able to start? This was his 5^th rewrite

He had left Adam being hunted in purgatory, one legged and searching for Chloe, the soul who had set him free.

Death was coming, and he was close.

Adam could hear him through the trees, a terrifyingly low rumble seemed to follow the monster. He had made homemade crutches, using them to hobble from tree line to tree line. He heard the swish of cloak as he lunged for the tree, hiding from deaths sight.

Archer leaned back, his hands rubbing his eyes. He knew something the audience didn’t. Death was playing with them.

Adam tried to follow Chloe’s tracks, the only tracking experience he had was watching lord of the rings, but still he pushed on. He had to find her. She might know a way back home.

Night was falling, even in limbo. He didn’t know how to make a fire. He knew he should be worried about his leg, but honestly, he kind of just kept forgetting. Not that it didn’t hurt, it was killing him. It just didn’t feel physical.

Archer had missed Becky at work, but he couldn’t stop now. It was dark here too

“Hey mate” Nathan called, emerging from the entrance of his darkened room. A hideous brown dressing gown on. “Don’t make fun, your mum got it for me”

“sure, thing Dumbledore”

“Shut up, did you rewrite it yet”

“yup. I’m thinking Chloe left clues for Adam, pieces of shirt or obvious markers. Tracks her to a lake.”

“I like it”

And with that, Nathan retreated to his room, the sound of his gown on the floor no longer around to annoy Archer anymore, he wrote on.

“What do we do? Adam asked her, huddled close to her fire, doing anything he could to stay warm.

“I don’t think there is anything we CAN do, not with that out there” she jerked her thumb behind her where the low grumble could be heard, moving around them.

“There’s gotta be something”

“There is one way”

“Anything”

She looked at him before she took her foot and stomped out her fire.

“What are you doing?” he hissed at her, but she didn’t respond. Only stared. Adam watched her slowly rise upward, floating above him. Her back to the trees, the rumbling growing closer the higher she rose.

Deaths hood poked out of the trees, a gigantic creature the same height as Chloe’s body. It got close to her, her face shielding its from Adams eyes. Her skin was pale, her eyes dead.

Slack jawed, it spoke through her mouth, a mixture of her voice and something deeper, darker.

“Hello Adam”

That was the end the story deserved.

“Yo Nathan” He called out, too excited to care about the time “It’s done”

“Hell yeah” his roommate came bounding out of the room again “just let me go get some beers and I’ll read it”

Archer finished up some touches as his friend prepared the drinks.

“Man, what was in those pills and can you hook me up more my man?”

There was silence for a moment, then it started. A low rumble.

A voice cut through the room, three voices at once.

“What pills Archer?”

The end.