I wrote a story the other day, and figured that, seeing as I want to become a writer some day, a little constructive criticism couldn't hurt. It's a little long, but if you'll bear with me I'd be very happy. I've been thinking of expanding it, as at the time of writing I didn't want to write too much - I planned it to around 3,000 words.
Criticism is welcome, and I haven't found anything on the searchbar.
Thanks anyway, and here goes nothing...
I know the end is very shaky, and depending on the reaction I may post an edit.
Happy reading!
Criticism is welcome, and I haven't found anything on the searchbar.
Thanks anyway, and here goes nothing...
The Hero waved as he strode down the wide road, smiling to the people; his people. He was truly resplendent in his white enamelled armour, a shining paragon of all he stood for. He smiled, and lifted his visor to look at the colourful crowds, their adoring eyes following his every motion. He motioned to his guards, and they fell back slightly, their trained eyes ever wary of a threat to their leader. He began to speak, addressing the crowds about their glorious country, and the danger it was in, and why they all had to try to help, while their great nation fought the war it had to win for the good of the common people.
The Unnamed Man watched through the curtains of the house across the road. He could hear snatches of The Hero's speech, and he smiled slightly, aware that he was talking of the last war to be fought for this nation. He readied himself for the task ahead, and drew his instrument of death, a thin, maybe three and a half inch long needle. He wondered what poison his whimsical masters had chosen for him this time. It was probably painful. He stood up, and looked through the thin curtains again. It was almost time. 'Now', he thought. He flicked his wrist, and the needle flew from his grasp, and out of the open window, guided as if by some unseen hand to his target.
The Hero felt a pain in his lower neck, which felt as if it was trying to burrow into his skin. He glanced up, still speaking of patriotism and noble sacrifice to the awed people, hanging on his every word. A cloud had gone over the previously pleasant sun and he felt a chill. He choked on his words, clutched at his stomach, clawing at the gilded armour, and then collapsed. His guards ran to him immediately, but found a pale, moaning wretch, and it was hard to believe that he was the confident hero from only moments ago. The stunned crowd stood still for a few moments, wondering whether this was some elaborate metaphor. The Hero's bodyguards ran to him, checking his pulse, as confused as the people at what had just happened. The Body began to shake, at first tentatively, and then more violently. Some of the crowd smiled, believing the charade over...the corpse exploded, its already yellowing insides splattering over his former admirers.
The Unnamed Man watched through the curtains of the house across the road. He could hear snatches of The Hero's speech, and he smiled slightly, aware that he was talking of the last war to be fought for this nation. He readied himself for the task ahead, and drew his instrument of death, a thin, maybe three and a half inch long needle. He wondered what poison his whimsical masters had chosen for him this time. It was probably painful. He stood up, and looked through the thin curtains again. It was almost time. 'Now', he thought. He flicked his wrist, and the needle flew from his grasp, and out of the open window, guided as if by some unseen hand to his target.
The Hero felt a pain in his lower neck, which felt as if it was trying to burrow into his skin. He glanced up, still speaking of patriotism and noble sacrifice to the awed people, hanging on his every word. A cloud had gone over the previously pleasant sun and he felt a chill. He choked on his words, clutched at his stomach, clawing at the gilded armour, and then collapsed. His guards ran to him immediately, but found a pale, moaning wretch, and it was hard to believe that he was the confident hero from only moments ago. The stunned crowd stood still for a few moments, wondering whether this was some elaborate metaphor. The Hero's bodyguards ran to him, checking his pulse, as confused as the people at what had just happened. The Body began to shake, at first tentatively, and then more violently. Some of the crowd smiled, believing the charade over...the corpse exploded, its already yellowing insides splattering over his former admirers.
I woke with a hacking, lingering cough, which shook my frail frame to such an extent that I regained consciousness. I awoke on the floor, in a drying, yet sticky pool of my own blood. My body felt like it was trying to destroy me from the inside. I coughed again, a little more blood gracing my lips. The sweet, sickly smell made me want to vomit. I tried to look around, but my bleary eyes transformed my surroundings into little more than a smudge. I tried to stand, but stumbled back, the blood rushing to my head. I tripped over my own feet, and hit the stone wall hard, slipping back into the realm of nightmares, and the damned.
When I woke again, it was dark and raining heavily. Cold water dripped down the side of my face and into a small pool, and I sat up, feeling better. I was in a dark, stone room, with uneven floors, and rotting reeds covering the floor. There was an acrid taste in my mouth, as the full implications of my surroundings hit me. Glancing at the door, I noticed that it was the most solid part of the room. There was a keg of water, and a hunk of stale, damp bread. I wasn't hungry. I began to get up but my body screamed in protest. I clenched my teeth, and tottered unsteadily to my feet, almost collapsing again as my leaden limbs tried to remember how to walk. Lightning flashed, closely followed by a rolling peal of thunder. The storm intensified. I began to explore my surroundings, feeling that something was missing, and trying to remember how I'd got here...My room was small, with just enough space for me to lie down comfortably. There was a small grated window high in the wall, and a leak in the high, arched ceiling. I felt like I was in a church, but if I was, it was a church to some unspeakable God I had only heard of in fireside tales when I was young.
My memories hit me like a flood. I had been carrying an important message, a life-saving message, to the king. He was in danger, and his champion had already been brutally murdered. I sat down heavily, reeling from the stories and memories breaking back into my skull, driven in like a nail into a brick wall. There was one other thing I remembered. The power. I shut my eyes, and the familiar glow returned, a warm green light, that called me closer. I reached out, and enveloped it, manipulating and forming it into an arrow. I let more and more energy build up in my skull, until that I felt like my skull was going to explode. I opened my eyes, and loosed the bolt of pure energy straight at the door. An arrow of light streamed from my eyes, crashing through the door, making a mockery of its reinforcements and locks. The door broke from the wall, taking a small section with it, and thudded into the opposite side of the corridor. I relaxed, slightly tired, still feeling unused to this kind of endeavour. I heard hurried footsteps echoing down the dark corridor, and two guards rushed into view.
When I woke again, it was dark and raining heavily. Cold water dripped down the side of my face and into a small pool, and I sat up, feeling better. I was in a dark, stone room, with uneven floors, and rotting reeds covering the floor. There was an acrid taste in my mouth, as the full implications of my surroundings hit me. Glancing at the door, I noticed that it was the most solid part of the room. There was a keg of water, and a hunk of stale, damp bread. I wasn't hungry. I began to get up but my body screamed in protest. I clenched my teeth, and tottered unsteadily to my feet, almost collapsing again as my leaden limbs tried to remember how to walk. Lightning flashed, closely followed by a rolling peal of thunder. The storm intensified. I began to explore my surroundings, feeling that something was missing, and trying to remember how I'd got here...My room was small, with just enough space for me to lie down comfortably. There was a small grated window high in the wall, and a leak in the high, arched ceiling. I felt like I was in a church, but if I was, it was a church to some unspeakable God I had only heard of in fireside tales when I was young.
My memories hit me like a flood. I had been carrying an important message, a life-saving message, to the king. He was in danger, and his champion had already been brutally murdered. I sat down heavily, reeling from the stories and memories breaking back into my skull, driven in like a nail into a brick wall. There was one other thing I remembered. The power. I shut my eyes, and the familiar glow returned, a warm green light, that called me closer. I reached out, and enveloped it, manipulating and forming it into an arrow. I let more and more energy build up in my skull, until that I felt like my skull was going to explode. I opened my eyes, and loosed the bolt of pure energy straight at the door. An arrow of light streamed from my eyes, crashing through the door, making a mockery of its reinforcements and locks. The door broke from the wall, taking a small section with it, and thudded into the opposite side of the corridor. I relaxed, slightly tired, still feeling unused to this kind of endeavour. I heard hurried footsteps echoing down the dark corridor, and two guards rushed into view.
"What happened here?" said one, his voice shaky, as he levelled his sword at me. I stood, appearing quite calm myself,
"The wall collapsed, officers." I calmly said, rising slowly to my feet.
"Oh," Sighed one, appearing relieved, "I thought you were trying to escape...the wall...collapsed," he pondered, feeling something was wrong. He turned to look at the door, "Wait!" He didn't get a chance to finish what he was about to say. I jumped towards them, a glowing sword appearing in my hand, crackling with barely contained coruscating energy. I slashed at the first man, the sword passing through his armour and flesh like a knife through butter. The second man stared, shocked by what had happened. He dropped his sword. I sighed. He had to die; I couldn't have anyone know I'd escape. I ran him straight through. He stared straight forwards for a few seconds, and tried to pull himself off the blade, but it pulsed, and he started, his hair standing on end, and a slight smell of burnt flesh permeating my senses. I gagged, shocked at what I had done, and the blade dissipated. I picked my way over the rubble and into the corridor, and through pure instinct, went right.
The corridor went on forever, my steps echoing, their volume seeming to increase as they raced down the corridor. I began to increase my pace, a tiny voice at the back of my head telling me that something was wrong, 'There should be more people here, they probably know you're here now, it's a trap, you're being followed...' I shut it out, just grateful to be free, at least if the corridor ever ended. I began to run, in short bursts as I panicked, and then told myself I was being stupid.
All of a sudden I burst from the corridor and into a great hall, long and wide, adorned on either side by great tapestries, frescoes and statues, all telling stories of battle and war, glory, honour and betrayal. At the end there was a door, small, inconspicuous, that felt out of place in a place of such grandeur and richness. For a moment it took my breath away. The ceiling was a gigantic stained glass dome, against which I could again hear the beating rain, reminding me of my predicament.
"The wall collapsed, officers." I calmly said, rising slowly to my feet.
"Oh," Sighed one, appearing relieved, "I thought you were trying to escape...the wall...collapsed," he pondered, feeling something was wrong. He turned to look at the door, "Wait!" He didn't get a chance to finish what he was about to say. I jumped towards them, a glowing sword appearing in my hand, crackling with barely contained coruscating energy. I slashed at the first man, the sword passing through his armour and flesh like a knife through butter. The second man stared, shocked by what had happened. He dropped his sword. I sighed. He had to die; I couldn't have anyone know I'd escape. I ran him straight through. He stared straight forwards for a few seconds, and tried to pull himself off the blade, but it pulsed, and he started, his hair standing on end, and a slight smell of burnt flesh permeating my senses. I gagged, shocked at what I had done, and the blade dissipated. I picked my way over the rubble and into the corridor, and through pure instinct, went right.
The corridor went on forever, my steps echoing, their volume seeming to increase as they raced down the corridor. I began to increase my pace, a tiny voice at the back of my head telling me that something was wrong, 'There should be more people here, they probably know you're here now, it's a trap, you're being followed...' I shut it out, just grateful to be free, at least if the corridor ever ended. I began to run, in short bursts as I panicked, and then told myself I was being stupid.
All of a sudden I burst from the corridor and into a great hall, long and wide, adorned on either side by great tapestries, frescoes and statues, all telling stories of battle and war, glory, honour and betrayal. At the end there was a door, small, inconspicuous, that felt out of place in a place of such grandeur and richness. For a moment it took my breath away. The ceiling was a gigantic stained glass dome, against which I could again hear the beating rain, reminding me of my predicament.
"Breathtaking, isn't it?" I started at the cold voice, shaken out of my trance, "It seems like a fitting last sight to a warrior such as yourself." The voice snickered, sending a chill down my spine. I swallowed, trying not to show my fear.
"Show yourself!" I shouted, my voice shaking.
"With pleasure," The voice almost purred, its tone almost welcoming - almost kind - yet icy and metallic, sounding unused and robotic, its larynx dancing to a puppet master's strings. All of a sudden, I saw a blur, and I felt pain explode across my face, hot wet blood spurting forwards as I stumbled back, almost losing my footing. I looked up. There was nothing there. I began to prepare the resource of energy ingrained deep within my psyche. I saw it coming this time, pushing myself to one side and striking out with a block of force, connecting hard with its side, and throwing it to one side. I stopped the flow, and looked around, the world seeming duller, less vibrant after the enveloping high of total power. The beast was dead, its side was totally crushed, its blinding speed no match for the sheer force and power of the blow.
"Interesting," The voice returned, again startling me "It seems my overconfidence has let me down, and I must show my hand. It was not I who attacked you, and I'm afraid I haven't revealed myself to you. I have been forced to..." I heard what I could only interpret as a sigh "kill you myself." There was finality in its tone that chilled me to the core. The door at the far end of the hall opened, and what I can only describe as a formless shadow passed into the room, flying towards me and gliding to a graceful halt just in front of me. The shadow receded slightly and I saw a tall gaunt figure, elegant, in a long cloak.
"It appears that our little game must now come to an abrupt end," the words echoed around the gloomy hall. "It was beginning to..." I struck out with a bolt of pure pain, driving for the figure's chest. It struck, and the shadow screamed, writhing in agony, but too soon the scream turned to a laugh.
"Very good," the shadow chuckled, "it's almost a pity that that didn't work.' The figure flew up into the air, swooping across the expanse of the hall. "I bid you goodnight." Darkness descended like a cloud across the room. I tried to force my eyes into piercing the gloom, to no avail. I tried to conjure a light, but it was swallowed in an instant, as the darkness pulsed around it. I began to pick my way towards the door, feeling my way along the wall. About halfway across the hall, I stopped. Something felt wrong. The darkness felt like it was swirling around me, a vortex centred on me. I had barely an instant to react before I heard a whooshing sound, and the shadows rushed towards me. I tried to throw my self to the floor but they caught me and lifted me high into the air, their now physical form beginning to suffocate me. I struggled, but they were unyielding. I relaxed, and prepared myself for the end.
"Show yourself!" I shouted, my voice shaking.
"With pleasure," The voice almost purred, its tone almost welcoming - almost kind - yet icy and metallic, sounding unused and robotic, its larynx dancing to a puppet master's strings. All of a sudden, I saw a blur, and I felt pain explode across my face, hot wet blood spurting forwards as I stumbled back, almost losing my footing. I looked up. There was nothing there. I began to prepare the resource of energy ingrained deep within my psyche. I saw it coming this time, pushing myself to one side and striking out with a block of force, connecting hard with its side, and throwing it to one side. I stopped the flow, and looked around, the world seeming duller, less vibrant after the enveloping high of total power. The beast was dead, its side was totally crushed, its blinding speed no match for the sheer force and power of the blow.
"Interesting," The voice returned, again startling me "It seems my overconfidence has let me down, and I must show my hand. It was not I who attacked you, and I'm afraid I haven't revealed myself to you. I have been forced to..." I heard what I could only interpret as a sigh "kill you myself." There was finality in its tone that chilled me to the core. The door at the far end of the hall opened, and what I can only describe as a formless shadow passed into the room, flying towards me and gliding to a graceful halt just in front of me. The shadow receded slightly and I saw a tall gaunt figure, elegant, in a long cloak.
"It appears that our little game must now come to an abrupt end," the words echoed around the gloomy hall. "It was beginning to..." I struck out with a bolt of pure pain, driving for the figure's chest. It struck, and the shadow screamed, writhing in agony, but too soon the scream turned to a laugh.
"Very good," the shadow chuckled, "it's almost a pity that that didn't work.' The figure flew up into the air, swooping across the expanse of the hall. "I bid you goodnight." Darkness descended like a cloud across the room. I tried to force my eyes into piercing the gloom, to no avail. I tried to conjure a light, but it was swallowed in an instant, as the darkness pulsed around it. I began to pick my way towards the door, feeling my way along the wall. About halfway across the hall, I stopped. Something felt wrong. The darkness felt like it was swirling around me, a vortex centred on me. I had barely an instant to react before I heard a whooshing sound, and the shadows rushed towards me. I tried to throw my self to the floor but they caught me and lifted me high into the air, their now physical form beginning to suffocate me. I struggled, but they were unyielding. I relaxed, and prepared myself for the end.
At that exact moment, a blinding light shone directly through the darkness, blinding me momentarily. The shadows dissipated, appearing to squeal with pain and discomfort. I was facing towards the floor, and would have been within touching distance of the ceiling, if at that moment I hadn't begun to fall the long way down to the floor. I tried to stop myself, or at least slow myself down, but I was too tired, drained by the shadows. Time appeared to slow, as my life seemed to flash before my eyes. I looked down, and saw that I was mere feet away from my grisly demise. A peal, like a bell, sounded, pure and clear. A circle of light shot as if from nowhere, and surrounded me. I drifted slowly down to the floor, my tiredness deserting me in an instant. I stood, surveying what had happened. There was a great hole torn into the side of the hall, and the surrounding country was clear to see. Of the shadow or the mysterious light there was no sign. I walked towards the exit slowly, picking my way over the rubble and towards freedom.
I almost burst free, inhaling and smelling the fresh, sweet air. I was on the lip of a steep incline, standing just in front of my prison, a huge castle, gothic, with towering spires and colossal ramparts. In front of me was a panoramic view, a massive forest stretching into the horizon on my left, and untamed agricultural land to my right. In the distance I could make out a road, similar to, if not the Imperial Road. I dismissed the thought immediately. I had travelled the road many times, and would surely have noticed something of these proportions. I carefully began to pick my way down the rubble-strewn hill. Whatever it was that helped me had burst out of the wall with incredible force, completely destroying the ancient architecture.
It didn't take long to reach the road, the old land offering little resistance. The road was long, stretching from horizon to horizon. I glanced at the sun. The road went from East to West, just like the Imperial Road. I looked back at the castle, my convictions shaken. There was no sign of it, as if it had never existed. Surveying my surroundings, I knew exactly where I was, only around twenty miles from the capital city, and the King's palace. Yet another thing he had to be warned about. There was no one in sight, so I began the long trek towards the capital.
After having walked for around a half hour, I began to feel a rumbling through the paved stone. I turned, apprehensive as to the source of the mysterious sound. I saw a cloud of dust on the horizon, and quickened my pace, not wanting to get caught up in whatever this was. After another five minutes hurried walking, I turned, to look back. The cloud was gaining fast, and I realised that there was no way I could outpace it, even from here. I moved off the road, and towards the nearest bit of cover. I hid behind a large rock, and waited for what I assumed was a large group of men on horseback to pass. I sat there for what felt like hours, but they didn't pass. I dared to look out. They had disappeared, and not a sign remained that they had ever been there.
I almost burst free, inhaling and smelling the fresh, sweet air. I was on the lip of a steep incline, standing just in front of my prison, a huge castle, gothic, with towering spires and colossal ramparts. In front of me was a panoramic view, a massive forest stretching into the horizon on my left, and untamed agricultural land to my right. In the distance I could make out a road, similar to, if not the Imperial Road. I dismissed the thought immediately. I had travelled the road many times, and would surely have noticed something of these proportions. I carefully began to pick my way down the rubble-strewn hill. Whatever it was that helped me had burst out of the wall with incredible force, completely destroying the ancient architecture.
It didn't take long to reach the road, the old land offering little resistance. The road was long, stretching from horizon to horizon. I glanced at the sun. The road went from East to West, just like the Imperial Road. I looked back at the castle, my convictions shaken. There was no sign of it, as if it had never existed. Surveying my surroundings, I knew exactly where I was, only around twenty miles from the capital city, and the King's palace. Yet another thing he had to be warned about. There was no one in sight, so I began the long trek towards the capital.
After having walked for around a half hour, I began to feel a rumbling through the paved stone. I turned, apprehensive as to the source of the mysterious sound. I saw a cloud of dust on the horizon, and quickened my pace, not wanting to get caught up in whatever this was. After another five minutes hurried walking, I turned, to look back. The cloud was gaining fast, and I realised that there was no way I could outpace it, even from here. I moved off the road, and towards the nearest bit of cover. I hid behind a large rock, and waited for what I assumed was a large group of men on horseback to pass. I sat there for what felt like hours, but they didn't pass. I dared to look out. They had disappeared, and not a sign remained that they had ever been there.
"Looking for someone?" The voice was warm, but with a dark undertone.
"No, I mean..." I turned, and saw 70-80 men on horseback, all with glowing yellow lances and in green lacquered armour.
"Bring him to me," The man who spoke was obviously the leader, "We will bring him before the King. He will regret ignoring his imperial decree." He made a minute action, and two men dismounted, and began to approach me.
"Wait," I spoke sharply. The two looked hesitantly at their leader.
"Let him speak," Sighed the leader, "then we will return to capital and execute him."
"I work for the King, and I have important information for him." I stuttered nervously.
"Important enough to ignore his orders, I think not. Take him away." He turned his back, and his men followed. I was tied up, and thrown over the back of a horse.
The journey was uncomfortable, and I blacked out several times over its short duration. When we reached the capital, it was unrecognisable. It was smoking, and much of the once beautiful masonry was in ruins. The men dismounted and walked through the streets, dragging me roughly behind them, the people shying away from us as we passed. Within minutes we reached the Imperial Palace. It was untouched, as if protected by something. It loomed above us, a gigantic proclamation of the power of the King. It was in a grand, sweeping classical style
"Let go of him. I will deal with him myself." There was a huge figure standing in the doorway, wearing the Imperial crown - The King, although something about him seemed...different. I was brought towards him, and thrown at his feet. The men behind me kneeled.
"Untie him." The voice boomed. I was untied, and stood, my body aching after the painful journey.
"Come inside, I wish to speak with you in private. Men, you are dismissed."
"But sire-" Interrupted the leader of the party
"Silence! I will not have disobedience from the likes of you! YOU ARE DISMISSED!" He thundered. The men fled terrified by their tyrannical leader. "Come." His voice was suddenly warm, and fatherly. I followed him inside, and into the Palace. "I must take you to see someone." We walked deeper and deeper into the maze of tunnels. Suddenly we stopped by a side door, inconspicuous and undecorated. "Go in. I will wait outside."
I opened the door, uncertain as to what was happening. It was dark in the room, and, completely opposite to what the door suggested, was a huge, cavernous space. I walked in, afraid of incurring the King's wrath.
"I'm really not used to someone so persistent. Normally things I tell to die stay dead." I stopped dead in my tracks. The Voice, the Shadow, it was here. "No more." The Voice was calm. "Farewell, Old Friend."
"No, I mean..." I turned, and saw 70-80 men on horseback, all with glowing yellow lances and in green lacquered armour.
"Bring him to me," The man who spoke was obviously the leader, "We will bring him before the King. He will regret ignoring his imperial decree." He made a minute action, and two men dismounted, and began to approach me.
"Wait," I spoke sharply. The two looked hesitantly at their leader.
"Let him speak," Sighed the leader, "then we will return to capital and execute him."
"I work for the King, and I have important information for him." I stuttered nervously.
"Important enough to ignore his orders, I think not. Take him away." He turned his back, and his men followed. I was tied up, and thrown over the back of a horse.
The journey was uncomfortable, and I blacked out several times over its short duration. When we reached the capital, it was unrecognisable. It was smoking, and much of the once beautiful masonry was in ruins. The men dismounted and walked through the streets, dragging me roughly behind them, the people shying away from us as we passed. Within minutes we reached the Imperial Palace. It was untouched, as if protected by something. It loomed above us, a gigantic proclamation of the power of the King. It was in a grand, sweeping classical style
"Let go of him. I will deal with him myself." There was a huge figure standing in the doorway, wearing the Imperial crown - The King, although something about him seemed...different. I was brought towards him, and thrown at his feet. The men behind me kneeled.
"Untie him." The voice boomed. I was untied, and stood, my body aching after the painful journey.
"Come inside, I wish to speak with you in private. Men, you are dismissed."
"But sire-" Interrupted the leader of the party
"Silence! I will not have disobedience from the likes of you! YOU ARE DISMISSED!" He thundered. The men fled terrified by their tyrannical leader. "Come." His voice was suddenly warm, and fatherly. I followed him inside, and into the Palace. "I must take you to see someone." We walked deeper and deeper into the maze of tunnels. Suddenly we stopped by a side door, inconspicuous and undecorated. "Go in. I will wait outside."
I opened the door, uncertain as to what was happening. It was dark in the room, and, completely opposite to what the door suggested, was a huge, cavernous space. I walked in, afraid of incurring the King's wrath.
"I'm really not used to someone so persistent. Normally things I tell to die stay dead." I stopped dead in my tracks. The Voice, the Shadow, it was here. "No more." The Voice was calm. "Farewell, Old Friend."
I know the end is very shaky, and depending on the reaction I may post an edit.
Happy reading!
. I did use it once, but your point still stands.
