Young Writers Society

It was the darkest day of autumn. The wind was cold, several degrees below zero, frost covering Hell’s floor. The trees hovered over me, throwing their shadows at me, silent specters sent from the vegetation. Then something caught my eye. A reflection of the moon, shimmering on the surface of a pool of blood. Human blood. So, the myths were true. I was in danger, worse danger than in my most abominable nightmares. There was a rustle of leaves. The hair on the back of my neck tingled. I was being watched. Then, I slowly turned around to face my certain doom.
“Welcome to Hell’s Forest.”
The first thing that struck me was the odor. The man smelled like a dead corpse that had died a really long time ago. There was mist around his feet, reaching almost to his visible knees under ripped, black pants. It was slowly spreading toward me, like a predator who knew there was no escape for his prey. He had such a cold smile, a shiver went up my back. His teeth were positioned in several rows, and they were deadly sharp, like a shark’s. But the thing that scared me the most, was the blood in them. It was the same one as the one in the floor. His ears were pointy, and there were abnormally many hairs on his face and on top of his hands.
He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture, but his expression read otherwise.
I should get out of here, I thought. There was one word to describe the man. Alien. But something stopped me from running away. This man was a threat, and he couldn’t be free, slaughtering people and drinking their blood. The villagers had to know. And if I tried running away now, well, something told me this man was faster than he looked. I didn’t stand a chance. I promised to myself that when I got out of this mess I would come back to fix it. For the villager’s. For the safety of this country. And most of all, for the son of the king, who had gone missing, and I knew, it had something to do with the man, the thing in front of me. Then I thought about the pool of blood in the forest’s floor, that might be the prince’s… I shook the thought out of my head. I couldn’t afford to think like that. It would get me killed. Then, the monster in front of me brought me back to reality.
“Who are you?” it asked.
I didn’t know how to answer. My tongue felt as heavy as lead.
“Are you from the castle?”
More silence. Then, I nodded slowly.
His eyes flashed, a grin spread across his face.
“You are to go to the castle, get the king, and bring him to me. At all costs.”
Then the pieces of the puzzle clicked together.
“The other man,” I started, “the peasant who disappeared too, you sent him to fetch the king’s son for you? Didn’t you?”
He nodded, a big smile on his face.
“You’re good,” he told me, “you’re smart, you will help me much indeed. As for the peasant, I turn out to be quite cunning, I can make people do what I tell them to sometimes…”
“I think I know who you are. I’ve heard storytellers talk about you.”
“Really? Who am I then?”
“Well, it’s just a legend.”
“All legends come from facts, although they are sometimes distorted.”
“So then, you’re Dracula.”
“As I said, all legends come from facts. I am not Dracula, but his origin.”
“Vladimir?”
“Call me Vlad.”

The name freaked me out. That is the first thing I have to say. At first, I was thinking 'why would Hell need a forest?' And then other sinister thoughts crept into my head which, for fear of losing my dignity, I shall not post here. And then I started to read and understood.

'The man smelled like a dead corpse that had died a really long time ago' - this is the first thing that struck me as odd. The rest of your writing is so well laid out, that this one line seemed a little childish to me? To say someone died a really long time ago sounds like something a five year old would say. This also makes the time stated a little exaggerated because of the childish tone.

'And most of all, for the son of the king, who had gone missing, and I knew, it had something to do with the man, the thing in front of me.' This is a really long sentence, especially in contrast to the two others behind it. I think you could try;

'And, most of all, for the son of the king. Missing for *insert time period*, it was certain this man, this thing, had something to do with it'

Or something along those lines?

Those are just the few things I spotted. Otherwise, this was a very good post and I want to know more about Vladimir. The question did arise about why he wasn't Dracula, but I guess that's been done so many times, if I had read his name, I wouldn't have bothered writing this. Also, the time period sounds like it's in olden times. That has been done so many times before, I think you should really make it more modern? But that's just my view. I honestly did not think there was anything wrong with this post, other than the points made above.

Kasim.

Thanks a lot Kasim. I get your points, but about the smell of the dead person, I didn't mean that Vladimir is the dead person, like a zombie. He smells like that because he eats humans, not because he's the dead one. I really liked your idea about making it in present tense. It would be a good mixture of old and modern, I will try to make it that way in the following chapters. And as for why he's Dracula, well, Dracula was supposedly inspired by a general called "Vladimir the Impaler", and this is another creature inspired by Vladimir, except that it has the same name.
Alfonso =D

Hello there, I'm here to review as requested!

I'm so sorry about the time it took me to do it, but with all the changes in YWS, now I don't have notifications and I either didn't know you posted there or I didn't remember. But here I am now!

I'll begin with nitpicks and then go on with my overall impression on your story.

But the thing that scared me the most, was the blood on them. It was the same one as the one in the floor.

How could he know it was the same blood? Apart from assuming, which I would too if I was him, but for me, blood looks all the same.

I should get out of here, I thought.

This should be in italics since it's a direct thought.

For the villagers.

I like the cliff hanger there is at the end of the chapter, it brings a little anticipation for the next chapter.

I like the style you used for this chapter, sometimes short and choppy for the mood, then sometimes it was very descriptive and the flow was good. I don't really have nothing to say at this point from the characters and the plot, since I don't know enough.

Keep on writing!

-Other One

Hello there, Alfonso! Rose here from Review Team Yellow to review!

Overall,this is a good piece of work. When it comes to vampires, I'm usually not very interested (Twilight sort of spoiled them for me), but Dracula is much different than the breed of vampires that are popular today, and I very much prefer him over them. I definitely hope that you are inclined to make your Count resemble the original one.

The first thing I find issue with in this poem is the length of the first paragraph. In my opinion, the first paragraph should generally restricted to the length of about three or four sentences; that way, the reader will be able to get just a taste of what the story will be like without feeling like they have to dive headfirst into the story. So, if I were you, I would edit the first paragraph to read like this.

It was the darkest day of autumn. The wind was cold, several degrees below zero, frost covering Hell’s floor. The trees hovered over me, throwing their shadows at me, silent specters sent from the vegetation. Then, something caught my eye.

The next thing I find issue with is the amount of details that you've included in this piece. There seem to be too many at some parts. We writers are always walking the line between including too much and too little in our work; if you use too many details, the writing feels overworked and crowded, but if you use too little, it seems bleak and bare. Perhaps if you went over this and eliminated a few minor details, it would feel cleaner, like so.

Instead of this:

The wind was cold, several degrees below zero, frost covering Hell's floor.

You could try this:

Frigid, the wind blew over Hell's frosty floor.

It's not perfect, but I think you'll get my point.

All in all, nice work! And remember, if you disagree with my suggestions, you should feel absolutely free to disregard them. At the end of the day, your opinion is what matters most; if you're happy with what you write, then it shouldn't matter what I or anybody else says about it.

Always keep writing!

-Rose