The "Creative Writing" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Lexington Fox and the Idol of Jebus
Rocks tumbled into the gushing river below and a cloud of dust filled the air as Lexington Fox skidded to a sudden halt at the edge of the ravine. He puffed his cheeks and looked down into his knapsack at the ancient golden idol, certain that it was worth all this risk.
He cast his eyes along the cliff’s edge. To the right was nothing other than a path back into the dense jungle, but a couple of hundred feet to the left lay salvation. Not only did the rope bridge offer a path to safety, but a chance to ensure no one could follow. There was something about that rope-bridge that stirred up a distant memory, if only he had more time to think. His archenemy Wahoo Garcia would be upon him with his army of natives in no time at all – he didn’t have time to ponder. An arrow darted through the jungle and pierced the top of his brown fedora, and he realised he had even less time than he’d thought. Leaving the arrow parting his hair through his hat he set off for the bridge, hurdling over rocks and roots on his way as arrows sailed either side of him.
Reaching the rope-bridge he took out his trusty hatchet, kissed its metal face and hacked at the slats, creating a trap that would leave any followers to fall to their deaths. Lexington chuckled as he hurried across the bridge, looking back as natives burst through the jungle, some shaking spears, others loading bows, with Wahoo in the middle, orchestrating events. Lexington hacked at another slat and pulled it up in front of him to catch a flurry of arrows marked for his chest. Wahoo was shouting and pointing, his face growing redder as he sensed yet another prize slipping from his grasp. The first of the natives stepped onto the bridge, and with a crack and a scream, fell to his doom. Lexington knew victory was his this time as he stopped to wave the idol at his nemesis. As he turned to take the final steps off the rope bridge he spotted the cave in which he’d discovered the lost scrolls of Atlantis some three years previous – no wonder the rope-bridge looked familiar! Beneath his feet he heard a crack as memories came flooding back of his earlier escape and his previous bridge tampering experience.
Rocks tumbled into the gushing river below and a cloud of dust filled the air as Lexington Fox skidded to a sudden halt at the edge of the ravine. He puffed his cheeks and looked down into his knapsack at the ancient golden idol, certain that it was worth all this risk.
He cast his eyes along the cliff’s edge. To the right was nothing other than a path back into the dense jungle, but a couple of hundred feet to the left lay salvation. Not only did the rope bridge offer a path to safety, but a chance to ensure no one could follow. There was something about that rope-bridge that stirred up a distant memory, if only he had more time to think. His archenemy Wahoo Garcia would be upon him with his army of natives in no time at all – he didn’t have time to ponder. An arrow darted through the jungle and pierced the top of his brown fedora, and he realised he had even less time than he’d thought. Leaving the arrow parting his hair through his hat he set off for the bridge, hurdling over rocks and roots on his way as arrows sailed either side of him.
Reaching the rope-bridge he took out his trusty hatchet, kissed its metal face and hacked at the slats, creating a trap that would leave any followers to fall to their deaths. Lexington chuckled as he hurried across the bridge, looking back as natives burst through the jungle, some shaking spears, others loading bows, with Wahoo in the middle, orchestrating events. Lexington hacked at another slat and pulled it up in front of him to catch a flurry of arrows marked for his chest. Wahoo was shouting and pointing, his face growing redder as he sensed yet another prize slipping from his grasp. The first of the natives stepped onto the bridge, and with a crack and a scream, fell to his doom. Lexington knew victory was his this time as he stopped to wave the idol at his nemesis. As he turned to take the final steps off the rope bridge he spotted the cave in which he’d discovered the lost scrolls of Atlantis some three years previous – no wonder the rope-bridge looked familiar! Beneath his feet he heard a crack as memories came flooding back of his earlier escape and his previous bridge tampering experience.
There have been no replies to this thread yet.
Lexington Fox and the Idol of Jebus
Rocks tumbled into the gushing river below and a cloud of dust filled the air as Lexington Fox skidded to a sudden halt at the edge of the ravine. He puffed his cheeks and looked down into his knapsack at the ancient golden idol, certain that it was worth all this risk.
He cast his eyes along the cliff’s edge. To the right was nothing other than a path back into the dense jungle, but a couple of hundred feet to the left lay salvation. Not only did the rope bridge offer a path to safety, but a chance to ensure no one could follow. There was something about that rope-bridge that stirred up a distant memory, if only he had more time to think. His archenemy Wahoo Garcia would be upon him with his army of natives in no time at all – he didn’t have time to ponder. An arrow darted through the jungle and pierced the top of his brown fedora, and he realised he had even less time than he’d thought. Leaving the arrow parting his hair through his hat he set off for the bridge, hurdling over rocks and roots on his way as arrows sailed either side of him.
Reaching the rope-bridge he took out his trusty hatchet, kissed its metal face and hacked at the slats, creating a trap that would leave any followers to fall to their deaths. Lexington chuckled as he hurried across the bridge, looking back as natives burst through the jungle, some shaking spears, others loading bows, with Wahoo in the middle, orchestrating events. Lexington hacked at another slat and pulled it up in front of him to catch a flurry of arrows marked for his chest. Wahoo was shouting and pointing, his face growing redder as he sensed yet another prize slipping from his grasp. The first of the natives stepped onto the bridge, and with a crack and a scream, fell to his doom. Lexington knew victory was his this time as he stopped to wave the idol at his nemesis. As he turned to take the final steps off the rope bridge he spotted the cave in which he’d discovered the lost scrolls of Atlantis some three years previous – no wonder the rope-bridge looked familiar! Beneath his feet he heard a crack as memories came flooding back of his earlier escape and his previous bridge tampering experience.
Rocks tumbled into the gushing river below and a cloud of dust filled the air as Lexington Fox skidded to a sudden halt at the edge of the ravine. He puffed his cheeks and looked down into his knapsack at the ancient golden idol, certain that it was worth all this risk.
He cast his eyes along the cliff’s edge. To the right was nothing other than a path back into the dense jungle, but a couple of hundred feet to the left lay salvation. Not only did the rope bridge offer a path to safety, but a chance to ensure no one could follow. There was something about that rope-bridge that stirred up a distant memory, if only he had more time to think. His archenemy Wahoo Garcia would be upon him with his army of natives in no time at all – he didn’t have time to ponder. An arrow darted through the jungle and pierced the top of his brown fedora, and he realised he had even less time than he’d thought. Leaving the arrow parting his hair through his hat he set off for the bridge, hurdling over rocks and roots on his way as arrows sailed either side of him.
Reaching the rope-bridge he took out his trusty hatchet, kissed its metal face and hacked at the slats, creating a trap that would leave any followers to fall to their deaths. Lexington chuckled as he hurried across the bridge, looking back as natives burst through the jungle, some shaking spears, others loading bows, with Wahoo in the middle, orchestrating events. Lexington hacked at another slat and pulled it up in front of him to catch a flurry of arrows marked for his chest. Wahoo was shouting and pointing, his face growing redder as he sensed yet another prize slipping from his grasp. The first of the natives stepped onto the bridge, and with a crack and a scream, fell to his doom. Lexington knew victory was his this time as he stopped to wave the idol at his nemesis. As he turned to take the final steps off the rope bridge he spotted the cave in which he’d discovered the lost scrolls of Atlantis some three years previous – no wonder the rope-bridge looked familiar! Beneath his feet he heard a crack as memories came flooding back of his earlier escape and his previous bridge tampering experience.