Guest Writer: Jack Reichelt

I thought it’d be really cool if I would get things written by my friends here and put them up. The idea is to use them as a sort of mirror so that they can tell a story about us from a different angle and hopefully you’ll get to know something about me that I wouldn’t say myself (everybody sees themselves differently to how they really are). Jack however, didn’t want to play this game so I recieved this.

So, Tom asked me (Jack) to write a guest post.

My first thought was, “Urrrgh…” followed closely by, “Am I even interesting?”

Now, obviously, those two lines wouldn’t be a very good blog post. So I thought about it (for a whole five seconds) and worked out what to write. But then Tom said that it should involve both of us. But I liked my idea, so I wrote that and Tom said no. My response is to write something else, and then tag my original idea on the bottom, like some sort of bizarre bonus content.

Finally, I decided to take something I had already written before and modify it. It’s my concept for a book/character or whatever. It’s rather gloomy, but I can’t think of anything else to write. Tom will probably rebuke this one too, but it’s a step in the right direction, I feel.

Simon led a fairly normal childhood. He grew up in a relatively large town, doing relatively large town things. He was a thin, wiry boy, content to play in the trees by himself. He did, however, have a few odd traits. His hair was the most obvious one. It was a clean white, unlike any others in the town. His eyes were the other things. One was a pale grey, almost blue in the right light. The other slowly changed over time. There was no pattern and no predictability to the changes or when they would occur. However, they were normally pale, almost sickly, colours.

Occasionally throughout his youth he noticed a few things. When he was upset or angry, he would retreat into the woods. On these trips, he would often notice things. The trees seemed cold, almost lifeless, and no animals were heard, even the insects, though he paid no heed as he was too caught up in whatever had upset him to begin with.

Things first started to go wrong for him around age fifteen. He had begun to notice girls and was particularly attracted to a pretty blonde girl named Jasmine. They spent a lot time together and he grew increasingly obsessive. One morning, after they had spent the afternoon together, Jasmine was found dead in her bed. For most people there was little by way of explanation. For Jasmine’s parents and brother, all they knew was that it happened after time with Simon.

They were unable to prove anything but they felt it was Simon’s fault and swore he would be punished. They threatened him and swore that they would make him pay for what he had done. Slowly, things around Simon began to decay. Buildings crumbled and fell, people fell ill, and those already sick swiftly died. Trees and plants withered and dried before his eyes wherever he went.

People became suspicious of Simon as the cause of the plague was speculated upon. To Simon the cause was blatantly obvious. Vengeance. This world had taken his love, the reason for his life, from him. So he would take its life from it. By the time he was seventeen, the town was gone and he was becoming a formidable force. He started wandering the land, searching for places rich in life to punish. He took a new name, calling himself Typhus, a name designed to wipe away his past and fully embrace his new abilities.

He now wanders the world, sucking the life from it, using it to fuel his growth and his powers. He aims to learn enough to be able to bring back Jasmine, to be his bride, until the world runs dry of life and nothing will fuel their unnatural existence.


—Original Idea—
I decided to write down my typical thought process and let YOU (the viewer) decide if I am interesting. So here goes.

“Well. I can’t think of anything to think of. Which in itself is a worry. How inactive does the brain have to be before you are officially brain dead? Should that be a new paragraph? Oh well. How is it that people with two friends, neither of whom I know, manage to find and add me on facebook? It seems slightly unlikely, that of all the random names they could type into the search bar, they choose mine?

Now I’m thinking about names. When I have kids, I’m not going to name them. I’m going to wait until they are old enough to decide for themselves. They will probably hate me, as they go through school being called, “Kid 1” or something. But it’s for their benefit. Maybe they could gain their name as a rite of passage, when they hit puberty, or have their first kiss or lose their virginity. Wow, by that logic I might not have a name. I wonder what I would call myself. Probably Alexander. I’ve always liked that name.

I think I’ll change my name soon. It’s annoying having John on all my official documents. This will probably make some comments asking why I’m called Jack if my name is John. I probably won’t answer. Or maybe I’ll answer now? Nah, forget it. Too much effort.

Wow, this has taken me about ten minutes to write… I think that is enough of a snippet to let people decide if I am interesting. I think this might actually be boring. Maybe Tom will make me write something better. Damn. I mentioned him again. Okay. Enough. They don’t need to know anything more about the twisted train of thought that normally goes through my head.”

So there you have it. A tiny slice of my (ab)normal brain activity. So now tell me:

Am I even interesting?



7 thoughts on “Guest Writer: Jack Reichelt

  1. Well… You seem to write in the same style as my friend. The whole apocallyptically creepy charachters who go around murdering people for no reason (just because of lost love??? i so dont get that). For some reason it seems to sell. Just like Twilight. God knows why that sells. Point is, needs more zombies.
    P.S. Im not sure whether what I just wrote makes sense but good luck for the next post 😀

    • No that made sense. And I actually wrote this because my friend was writing a story and getting people to design their characters and I pretty much went, “I’M MAKING THE BAD GUY!!!”. And so I wrote that. But it didn’t work with the story so I kept it and am working on his story myself.
      And lost love sells because people are afraid of losing what they love. But fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate… leads to five star reviews.

      • haha, you dont know the half of me!!!

        The other half, that is…

        The crazy side…

        That you havent seen…

        You know… that side…

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