For those not in the know, The Odyssey Project is the ultimate in collaborative events. CliveBarker started us off with a Prologue and has been selecting submissions for the chapters. If you're a writer, an artist, a poet, a filmaker - this project is for you!
The writing prompt for Chapter 4 has just been released and I can't wait to see where writers will take it:
The invasion like no other is on, and we are witness with players whose unique perspectives and goals open up a world of possibilities. This invasion is viral, like other plagues of our times, but the virus is sentient and Paul battles to free his body not just of a deadly encroaching poison but possession by a growing evolving parasite of unknown origin. Does he presently bear within his own body his “son” – or his cannibalistic assassin? His only ally, a savage young woman named Maya who is ostensibly warring against the secret viral invasion, may be suffering possession, perhaps unknown even to herself. And the possessing intelligence may be the “sister” of the alien being whose spawn now grows inside Paul, a spawn she would for unknown reason seek to destroy (anonymously).
Chapter Four demands plotting and propulsion! Who are these sisters and do they come from, with one launching a viral invasion against humanity and one, perhaps, fighting her? Is Maya possessed or still in control of her full faculties – just what these are and whom she works for not yet revealed to us. And what of Paul’s untenable mental and physical situation? He occupies that space from which mad seers, monsters and heroes are born (and sacrificed). The wildest elements have been whipped into our Storytellers’ cauldron. Now let’s crank our thinking brains to turbo-puree and cook up something palatable to most discerning of connoisseurs of mystery and imagination.
ODYSSEY II IS ON. And it takes up in sheer propulsion and creativity where the kaleidoscopic narrative of Odyssey I climactically shattered so enjoyably at midnight of this last New Year’s Eve past! The call has gone out to deviantART deviants and other writers, poets, artists and short filmmakers to take the helm of the this rapidly spinning just barely under control story and, with benefit of their artist’s eyes and creative souls, bring together one magnificent tale from a worldwide team of collaborators.
Short Filmmakers, now is your time to get started, we're almost halfway in, will you create a trailer? a short animation? I am waiting with baited breath! How will the story unfold? Artists, keep those amazing pieces coming and we're still looking for the Poems that will appear in the beginning, middle and end of the story.
It's not too late to get involved and join Odyssey II with Clive Barker!!
If you have any questions about the project, I'll be happy to answer them just leave them in the comments below or feel free to note me.
Check out the following to see how the story is progressing:
A Shower and a Change"Ah, damn. God damn."
The stain was small, no larger than a coin. It fell near his right hip, nestled in the dip between crotch and thigh. Still, it was nauseating. Paul stripped off the trousers and walked to the sink, hoping the sliver of hotel soap would take out the spot.
He began running the hot water and paused, staring at the vomit. Resisting the urge to gag, he grazed his fingers over the stain. It was purely liquid and slick like dish soap, but the sickly brown could only be vomit. He slowly raised his hand to his face and sniffed his fingers. Nothing. It seemed, for a moment, odorless. But no, he suddenly caught a faint scent of metal. Like a cup full of coins. Or a bloodied nose.
"Shit!" A stream of blood ran down his nostrils, over his lip and down his chin. Paul dropped the trousers to the bathroom floor and watched the b
The Host With the MostPaul staggered out into the early morning fog like a drunkard.
He hunched into the raised lapels of this too-thin jacket and wandered away from the hotel, disoriented, shivering--panic gnawing at his gut like a cannibal. "I need help," he thought, "but where?" The nearest hospital was the obvious answer, but the thought of what the doctors would do filled his mind with images of hospital beds with straps, extended isolation with no answers and needles piercing his flesh.
The mass on his thigh was growing--that was certain. Paul could feel it writhing and pushing against his flesh as he walked. Lost in his fears, he never noticed the black, windowless van pull up next to him until he heard the van door slide back violently, and rough hands reached out and pulled him out of the grey London mist into darkness.
He awoke with a headache, disoriented. His eyes would not focus and he began to panic, his heart pounding in his ch
Skin Glowing From WithinLysanna felt a sudden change in her breathing, and knew than that something had happened to her Progeny. Though the organism was still very small, she shared a psychic link with it that would remain as it transferred from host to host. When the growth cycle was complete, the bond she had with the tiny bit of life would be severed as it emerged from the host with its own consciousness.
She looked in the mirror at her gaunt face, the colors of her life force faded and barely moving under the surface of her tightly stretched, translucent skin. Her time in this world was diminishing and with every dying moment she hoped that her progeny would take hold in it's new host. She had tried transferring her progeny to the humans many times before, and felt the twinge of pain as it was violently rejected, leaving the host in throes of agony as it expelled the last bits of the strange organism. But this time, she was hopeful, for the progeny had thrived longer in t
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Keep Calm and Odyssey!