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Xeogaming Forums - Story Realm - COMPETITION ENTRY: 23 | |
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X Marks the Spot
Banned.
Lack of maturity
Hack threats
IM Harassment








Since: 10-06-04
From: Petaluma, CA

Since last post: 6669 days
Last activity: 6555 days
Posted on 08-08-06 09:50 PM Link | Quote
Twilight loomed as he stepped out of the door onto the sidewalk. Step by step he made his way down the street, and with each step he could hear it. He hated that sound. It wasn't just the sound of his shoes scraping against the concrete; it was the sound of his precious moments on this earth falling away, as if they were no more than grains in an hourglass; it was the sound of the very world he thought he knew unraveling before his eyes; it was the sound of eternal darkness, beckoning him with every step. He hated it.
That sort of thinking made him nervous, and he grew increasingly tense with each and every step; and yet, he continued to ponder it. As he turned a corner, he spotted a group of children playing. He scoffed at their innocence. They would learn.
Light waned as he crossed the threshold of the old warehouse, leaving him in darkness. The only light came from the streetlights, which seems to flicker wherever he went. The door, rusted and decrepit from years of disuse, stood as a monument of defiance to anyone who dared attempt entry. It was locked. he had to find another way in. He made his way around the side of the building and as he walked, his hand brushed up against the grooves in the wall; it reminded him of that place.
Just then he heard a sound from behind a dumpster. He looked and queried in the dark, hoping for a reply, or perhaps the lack of a reply. There was no answer. He sighed, relieved of any notion of danger. "It must have been a rat.," he thought. After a brief search, he found the backdoor, it was far less worn than the other door; he didn't think anything of it. Slowly, cautiously, as if an unknown observer was judging his every move, he reached for the handle. As he grasped the handle, he felt a strange sensation. The sensation was warmth. Startled, he took a step back from the door. Suddenly, he felt as though someone was watching him; nay, not merely watching him, but sitting in wait, orchestrating his every move. Frantically, he peered through the darkness, the cold night air washing up against his eyes, as if to tell him that he shouldn't be there. He found no signs of life, but even still he could not lose the uneasy feeling that he had in his stomach; sandwiched here between a chain-link fence and the wall of the old warehouse, he had nowhere to run.
Finally, he entered the building. It's innards were as dilapidated as the door that had first barred his entry. He walked down a dimly-lit hallway; he was still shaken from what had happened outside. The entire environment was a mish-mash of shapes, unrecognizable in the infinite blackness of the night. Every object he passed as he made his way further into the building seemed strangely foreboding. He knew that he shouldn't be here, nonetheless he continued on, trudging through hallway upon hallway. The silence made his footsteps echo. There it was, that same sound. He couldn't stand it. He began thinking about it again, he couldn't help it.
As he came to an intersection of hallways, he heard footsteps to his left. He turned right and broke into a run. "Hey!" He heard the call ring out from behind him as the footsteps gained speed. He was too afraid to look back and he knew that it wouldn't do him any good anyway. He was barreling down the hallway when his foot caught something. He lost his balance and fell. He was on the floor. The footsteps were coming even faster now. He feverously looked for something to help him escape this unknown danger, and he found it. On the side of the hall, next to where he had fallen there was a pile of rubble. Without a second thought, he pulled himself behind it. Exhausted, he passed out, as the footsteps continued on down the hallway.
He woke, and looked around. The footsteps were gone. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a door across the hall from where he lay huddled. It seemed to stand out in the general murkiness of his current surroundings; it was immaculately clean, and there was a certain glow about it. It was beckoning him. As he began to pull himself up off the ground, a sharp pain shot through his leg. His foot was cut and bleeding badly, even as this was, he could not resist the lure of the door. He struggled to his feet, and hastily made his way over to the door, leaving a trail of blood where he stepped. He pushed open the door, as he felt the grooves in the door, he experienced a blast of nostalgia. This was it.
The room was blindingly bright; he had to bring up an arm to shield his eyes. He squinted, dazed from the loss of blood. He was unable to locate the illuminant, it seemed like the room was generating this light itself. It was strangely empty, except for a pedestal in the center of the room. He felt himself drawn towards this pedestal; without thinking he walked towards it. Everytime he took a step closer to it, he smeared blood across the floor. The blood shone brilliantly in the bright light of the room. He finally reached the pedestal, but before he had a chance to examine it, he heard footsteps
behind him and before he had a chance to react, a gunshot rang out, piercing the deadly silence that this night afforded.
He was stricken by a seering pain in his gut as the bullet bore into him. Overcome, he collapsed onto the pedastal. The cold stone of the pedastal felt welcoming. He started to doze off; the pain seemed to be floating away. The whole world was swirling around him, a sea of white. That's when he saw it. The face of the man he had been looking for, the man that had been chasing him, the man that had shot him down; the man whose face was as obscured and distorted as the immediate surroundings. Everything was spinning faster now, he couldn't concentrate on anything; he was seeing things that he knew couldn't be there. They were mocking him. He had failed.
That's when he snapped back to reality. Even still, it all seemed surreal. There he was, laying there, some of his intestines hanging out a gaping hole in his abdomen; they glistened in the apparent chemiluminescence of the environment. The room was as bright as it ever had been. All the blood he had lost added a splash of colour to the room's overpowering white. He knew that couldn't fail. He put a hand to his stomach in an attempt to hold in his intestines. He didn't have enough energy left to make the effort to get to his feet. He threw himself to the ground and started crawling towards the door. By this time, he was covered in his own blood. He was almost to the door; his body was spent. He was about to lose consciousness when he looked up and saw the man that had done this to him. He thought that the man had come to finish the job. Instead the man leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Without warning, the man picked him up and began carrying him out the door and down the hall. He felt at home in this man's arms; he couldn't remember who the man was or where he was. The last thing that he saw as he blacked out was the man's face.
The man arrived at the large rusted front door with a body in his arms. He undid the latch on the door and stepped out into the cold night; all of the streetlights were out. There, on the cold cement of the sidewalk. He dropped the body. It's face ashen, it's guts hanging out; the blood that poured from it's dead form seeped into the cracks in the sidewalk, making a sort of macabre exhibition.
Satisfied that his deed was done, he left the night behind him, passing through the doors that he had come out of moments ago; It swung closed behind him, the hinges on the door swealing loudly as it did. There was the faint sound of sirens blaring in the distance.
As if on queue, the streetlights came back on, brilliantly illuminating the scene for all to see.

[commentary] Yeah, I kind of did a half-assed job on this. [/commentary]


(Last edited by X Marks the Spot on 08-11-06 05:40 AM)
Elara

Divine Mamkute
Dark Elf Goddess
Chaos Imp
Penguins Fan

Ms. Invisable








Since: 08-15-04
From: Ferelden

Since last post: 99 days
Last activity: 99 days
Posted on 08-17-06 06:08 PM Link | Quote
Judges results, each category out of 10:

Originally posted by venomouslobster
Grammar: 6
Spelling: 8
Plot: 7
Character: 7
Description: 7
Overall Creativity: 7

Clearly this has potential as a story, but the most important job of a writer is to be a rewriter... and a rewriter, and a rewriter, and a rewriter. This story has a very first draft feel to it. If I were you, I'd go over it and substiture words, clean up the text, and read Elements of Style.


Originally posted by Zabuza
"23" - by X Marks the Spot.

Critique:
Excellent introduction. Really grabs at the reader, makes want to read more...

Grammar:
"As if they were no more than grains..." "As if there were..."

"...streetlights, which seems to flicker..." Keep your tenses straight: "...seemed to flicker..."


Spelling:
A few misspellings, and a few misused words. "As if on queue," should be "As if on cue,".

Plot (Flow and Concept):
I don't fully understand what's happening, but it seems like an intriguing start to something bigger...obviously not meeting the terms of a short story.

Characters:
Character was a little one-dimensional. He needs work.

Descriptions (Readability and Flow):
Too much use of "he" and "his". Try starting sentences in other ways using objects or situations to start off.

Unfortunate, that for such a good hook at the beginning it quickly became too slow and methodical. I had to force myself to read.

Overall Creativity/Originality:
Very nice concept. A little noir and obscure, but could turn to a nice mind-fuck if properly revised.

Overall:
Grammar: A few tense and typos--minor though. 9 points.

Spelling: Minor errors. 9 points.

Plot: I don't know what's going on. 5 points.

Characters: One sided. 7 points.

Description: Very well thought out and executed. 10 points.

Creativity/Originality: I've seen it before, videogame plots especially. 9 points.

Bothering me once knocked you for an overall 5 points.

Total: 44 out of 60 points. 73% of 100%. C.


Originally posted by Elara
Grammar: 6
Spelling: 7
Plot: 8
Character: 8
Description: 9
Overall Creativity: 8

There were lots of punctuation and spelling error that I saw. Good potential, but could do with a revision or two. Overall, not a bad job for being "half assed"


(Last edited by Elara on 08-17-06 09:08 PM)
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