Echoes (PG for mild violence and thematic elements.)

[hurristat]

I hope you enjoy this, my first endeavor into the uncharted wilds of literature. I welcome any and all criticism, positive or negative. In fact, if you were left with any sort of feeling after reading the story, tell me. Be brutally honest.

This is part of a four part story. If you guys like it enough, I will release the next few parts (as I write them).

This is also going to be the shortest, by a LOONG stretch.

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Detained.

"Morning."

I stared blankly into his eyes.

He shrugged, unable to grasp my intentions.

"Quiet as usual, huh?"

Detained. Subdued, castigated. Confined, stowed, interned.

I glanced at Absol. It was curled up in the recesses of the room. I stroked its head. The guard shot me a look.

I looked at him through the dull iron bars.

He looked back.

“Time to go.”

I was transported to a room down the hall. The room. Absol accompanied me.

They opened the door. I was tethered to the chair.

The guards left. All that was left were Absol and I, and a lab technician. He flipped a switch. A red light flickered on and a siren blared.

Slowly, a fog descended.

I closed my eyes.

I opened them again.

Absol glanced at me. Turning around, it strode into the mist, its spectral form shifting in and out of my vision.

My vision faltered.

Gunshots rang, twice. Loud and clear.

 

[Zekurom]

Re: Echoes (PG for

It's too short for me to tell anything that's going on. Why is the character there, first of all? Most stories of this "mysterious" nature give at least some information about it beforehand, even if it is just the minutest trace. You don't seem to have any of that at all.

 

[Aladar]

Fix'd the title.

And I wholeheartedly agree with the above post. It's just way way way too short and aboslutely lacking description for anythig to be understood. Even the setting is unknown.

 

[hurristat]

Fix'd the title.

And I wholeheartedly agree with the above post. It's just way way way too short and aboslutely lacking description for anythig to be understood. Even the setting is unknown.

Thanks for fixing the title! (I don't know how)

Also, thanks for the comments! Hopefully, the next section (should be up Friday sometime, I'm really busy and it's only half-written) should explain this problem. This'll make more sense once I post the next section. I guess it would have made more sense to include this in the first section than to post it on its own. Sorry about the confusion.
Thanks!

 

[Kavidun]

Re: Echoes (PG for

It's too short for me to tell anything that's going on. Why is the character there, first of all? Most stories of this "mysterious" nature give at least some information about it beforehand, even if it is just the minutest trace. You don't seem to have any of that at all.

Ah, but this mystery is the Heart of storys. Questions are ringing in my mind. This is a sign of a good story.

 

[Ghostwriter]

Not bad, but needs more description, not just dialoge. Explain to the reader what's going on! Just try to do a little more and you'll be surprised how much better your story will be!

 

[Gama]

I really, really like it. My only real issue is that you used capitalisation to stress something, which I really hate. Italicise it instead, looks much more professional.

Sure, it is short and a lengthier prologue would be nice HOWEVER I don't think, as others have said, that the mysteriousness is a problem.

On the contrary, I like it, I think it works really well and I can't wait to see what happens next. But then again, I've been thinking that for the last six years about a certain show that shall not be named and look where that got me...

I'm not gonna take my rage out about that on you though, that'd be unfair and anyway I don't think it's possible to express that amount of rage over the internet, I think you really need all five senses to appreciate it.

 

[Dorothy LaRouge]

I really, really like it. My only real issue is that you used capitalisation to stress something, which I really hate. Italicise it instead, looks much more professional.

Sure, it is short and a lengthier prologue would be nice HOWEVER I don't think, as others have said, that the mysteriousness is a problem.

On the contrary, I like it, I think it works really well and I can't wait to see what happens next. But then again, I've been thinking that for the last six years about a certain show that shall not be named and look where that got me...

I'm not gonna take my rage out about that on you though, that'd be unfair and anyway I don't think it's possible to express that amount of rage over the internet, I think you really need all five senses to appreciate it.

Capitalization can be used for stress as well, especially when the character raises their voice.

 

[Gama]

Capitalization can be used for stress as well, especially when the character raises their voice.

I'm aware that it's commonly used, I just think it looks ugly and amateurish.

 

[hurristat]

I guess I got the feeling I wanted across. I wanted to leave the reader with a sense of inadequacy -- that there were large pieces missing. I intentionally didn't tell you guys enough. .

When I was writing it, I debated between italics and capitalization. It's fixed now.

 

[Zekurom]

I'm aware that it's commonly used, I just think it looks ugly and amateurish.

At least when it's just one word that's being shouted, I agree with you on this one. But if it's an entire phrase, sometimes it can be acceptable. Just look at the Howler (and Molly in general when talking to Fred and George) in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. She shouts in all caps quite a few times.

 

[hurristat]

Finally, after forever, I finished part two of four. I tend to like to think over things before I write them, but not usually this long.. my life got busy with a lot of stuff Anyway, this one is a bit... different compared to the previous installment. And a bit more... PG-13. Anyway, here you go, part two of four. As always, criticism is welcome.

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Freedom, at long last!. To smell the fresh air, to see the birds floating upon updrafts in the air! After going through hell, almost anything else is heaven. And the sky. Oh, the sky. The iridescent blue sky shone like nothing has, or ever will.

I was drunk with ecstasy, high on life. I frolicked in the grass, dancing with the insects, playing with the spiders.

Absol stared intently at me, probably wondering what exactly I was doing. I didn't know either, I didn't care. The grass, the leaves, the smell! The overwhelming sense of it all!

It lasted for an eternity.

It wasn't enough.


I woke up to the feeling of Absol's soft muzzle against my face.

“Awwrrwr.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm getting up.” After the euphoria of the previous day, I was not looking forward to this day at all.

“Awwrrwr.” This one rang of urgency, of the need to awaken.

“All right, all right! Sheesh.” I stood up and brushed the miniscule particles of dirt off of my shirt.

Shirt. Shirt. New shirt. I need a new shirt. This one's too... obvious.

In the distance, the skyscrapers of the city loomed. Looks like I found my destination.

We headed out.

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It seemed like hours. It was hours. The countryside was infinite. I never wanted to see another cornstalk again.

As we rounded the corner of a field, a small, ruddy cottage came into view. The flag of the Alliance was clearly displayed on the inside of the front window. The bright red and green stripes contrasted with the vaguely mahogany color of the cottage. I knocked on the oaken door, and it swung open. Looks like the owners are out for the day.

I rambled into the master bedroom, taking care not to misplace anything. I opened the top drawer on the dresser – bras. Wrong dresser. Opening the top drawer on the adjacent dresser, I pulled out exactly what I was looking for: new shirt and pants. Quickly undressing, I put on the semi-formal collared shirt and the blue jeans. Not so conspicuous anymore.

I carefully closed the front door of the small farmhouse, and set out among rows of corn and soybeans, towards the city.
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Slowly adjusting the sight so that the prime minister's torso was centered in the crosshairs, the last month's events flashed before me. Sleeping on the streets, begging for money. Finally earning enough to buy a crude firearm (which still cost me an arm and a leg). Researching when the prime minister's next speech in a public forum was. And now, sitting here with my hand on the trigger of the standard military issue gun...

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

...Damn, I missed his heart. Hit his head.

The sounds of people screaming permeated the air. Chaos. You pull out one little string, and everything falls to pieces.

I hear the sound of the team ascending the stairs. Too late. He's dead. I hear the sounds of the aluminum canisters of gas rolling into the room combined with the buzzing and tinny voices on the radios of the police officers. Their black suits are ominous and aggressive. Slowly, my vision blur and sounds bein to melt together. My head hits the ground with concussive force.
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“Morning.”


By the way, disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape or form, support the assassination of any political figure. It is used in this story as a plot device, and not as a representation of any ulterior motive. Remember, any events that occur during this story are fictional and do not exist.