Articles written by Chase Brimrock

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About me - Chase Brimrock

My name is Chase Brimrock. I write, a lot, as do many of you here at Helium I suppose. I have been a member of Helium for a year and a half now.

I am 16 years of age, and enjoy many things that most other teens do, such as video games, sports, etc... but

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Creative Writing > Novel Excerpts Novel excerpts: Fantasy: 8 of 359

Deadlock: Kevin's Destiny His labored breathing echoed off the cold stone walls of the palace undercroft. The gemstone in his hand, that was as big as a human skull, glowed vividly in the slight rays of light that was cast off by the flickering torches. Sweat trickled down his face, and touched his lips, he spit away the sal...
Creative Writing > Songs Songs: Love: 27 of 252

Please Don't Go If the rain floods the Sahara, or the River Nile dries, I'm telling you there's, No way I'd not miss that look in your eyes, Because when you look at me that way, and you smile and then you say, those three perfect words.... I'm a whole new man, and my life becomes so grand, Losing you once was bad enough, tw...
Arts & Humanities > Writing Tips Tips for creating characters for a murder mystery: 1 of 9

"Without her knowing, them man slipped up behind her, threw his dirty palm over her mouth, and pulled her back into the shadows, where the repetitive sound of a knife slicing into flesh could be heard. He walked out of the alley, sweaty and bloodstained, the task was finished." Ever wonder who "He" is? When you're writing a ...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: The color of God: 7 of 30

He is White like the snow that covers the ground, Black as the night all still with no sound, Blue as the sky on a Montana morn, Pink as the skin of a bright Newborn. He is Gold as the metal that fills us with greed, Purple as the flowers of the Milkthistle Weed, Red as the color of our human blood, And after it rains, as br...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: When you bury me: 8 of 34

There comes a time when all of us, fall stone cold and dead, When you bury me here's a must, I want a stone above my head. Make sure that it tells, about the life that I had, of all the happy chimes and bells, none at all of the sad. Put me under a wide oak tree, where the leaves turn yellow in fall, So the beauty will run d...
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: What my dog means to me: 139 of 393

How can one begin to describe such a loyal and loving companion as my Saint Bernard, Lady. Ever playful and energetic, we run through the back-yard daily. She is always gentle toward me and the younger ones in our family, and is protective of us above all. She loves attention, in fact she thrives on it, and ever since she wa...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Working with grandparents: 2 of 4

His old calloused hands worked quickly with the block of wood. His eyes gleamed with the wizdom of all the years his wrinkled face had weathered, and yet through it all, he remained my mentor. A keen hand whipped around in front of me, his palm was upturned, "Chase, could you hand me that piece of sandpaper?" I nodded, payin...
Education > Education (Other) How Drivers Ed computer games can prepare young drivers for the classroom: 1 of 1

Drivers' Education games, which are created to help your young driver learn the rules of the road, before going on it, are becoming ever popular in today's society. Such games are good for your youth to practice what they need to do on the road, without risking the danger of being on the road prematurely. Most Driver's Educa...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: My angel: 103 of 182

I have seen things, a great many things, but none as beautiful, as My Angel, who sings. She's the vision of beauty, Perfection in flesh, Beyond that of Pretty, Amazing, and simply no less. With a laugh and a smile, the darkness goes away, It lasts more than a while, and will last the rest of my days. She's and Angel on this ...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Fantasy: 291 of 496

Dragonkin PRELUDE: The echoing roll of thunder boomed onward over the vast plain. The grass was laying flat against the cold, damp earth, pushed over by the wind, like a babe cradeled to its mother's chest. It was a night that even the demons would solomnly weep, for there was no peace that night, but all across the land of ...