Open Up [edit]

Strangely enough, this time around it's shorter. I'm still debating whether to add more, so I just fixed what I had and left it open still. I love the open ending, but I do see the point in that I should write more. I just not sure what more to write yet.
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Open Up

"Sade, tell me, why blood for pleasure?" - Enigma

The cold was the first thing Camille noticed. Not the kind of icy chill that creeps along skin as it is snowing, but an artificial cold from spending too long in a meat freezer. The chill nibbled at her skin and left it feeling raw.

The second was that she was lying on a metal table. Her blue and white polka-dot dress from last night’s party was bundled at her feet. Her thoughts were running through mud, and she wasn’t sure it mattered that she was naked.

Her eyes rolled open lazily only to be blinded by light. She blinked away the searing ache. The ceiling was white in a way that spoke of sanitation; hospitals and laboratories.

Camille had the urge to pull her arms to her body and fight off the cold. She hadn’t been awake long enough to truly consider her situation. “Where…where am…” She felt tired. Maybe she had been drugged and kidnapped. As she pulled her arms towards her body, she felt them resisting, and she realized she was chained to the table. She scraped her fingers against the smooth, chilling surface, searching for a crack, a dip; anything that would suggest it was less than perfect. Anything that would suggest it was real.

Her teeth rattled in time with the shudders of her body, drumming out a morbid melody. Occasionally Camille would whisper, “Wake up.” She was falling back and forth from white lights to spinning darkness.

Footsteps. A shadow to the left. Camille turned herself and saw a man. “What the hell is…” she tried to ask. He put a finger over her lips and shushed her.

“Don’t speak. You’re too tired to speak.”

She couldn’t get a good look at him. “Who…”

“You can call me Sade.” He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead. Camille welcomed the warmth, the touch, the slight comfort.

He whispered into her ear, “Please keep still.”

Light glimmered on a scalpel. It swooped towards her chest, and placed itself between her breasts.

“I have no reason to lie. This will hurt.” The scalpel pushed into her skin and dove between the layers. The blade sliced deeply and ran its way further in. Camille couldn’t feel the cold anymore. She could only hear herself screaming.

I liked it. The imagery was good, I could defenetly see what was going on, and it was creepy.

There wasn't any mistakes (that I could see, someone else might find some), but it was short. I think this would be better if it were longer. We know what she was doing the night before, but how did she get in the white room? Who was the man? What was he doing to her? Did he kill her?

The white room really added to it. The story just wouldn't have been to the same if it was a normal room ,or black, or metal or something. It had to be white.

Nice piece!

Suzanne wrote:
The room was cold. Not the kind of icy chill that creeps on your skin as it is snowing, but an artificial cold, as if you were spending your time in a meat freezer. The chill nibbled at your skin and left it feeling raw. The cold was the first thing Camille noticed when she woke up.

I didn't reall like that you addressed the Audiance. It makes it feel a little awkward, like it's in second person.

The second was that she was lying on a metal table. Her eyes rolled open lazily, only to be blinded by light. She blinked away the searing ache, but still she only saw white. The walls were white in a way that made her think of the sanitary environment of a hospital.

Camille had the urge to pull her arms to her body and fight off the cold. She hadn’t been awake long enough to truly consider her situation. “Where…where am…” She felt tired. Maybe she had been drugged and kidnapped. As she pulled her arms towards her body, she felt them resisting, and she realized she was chained to the table. Her blue and white poke-a-dot dress from last night’s party [s]lied[/s] by her feet. Her thoughts were running through mud, and she wasn’t sure it mattered that she was in the nude. Nothing made sense.

I suggest another word besides Lied, it didn't flow very well and another word ro phrase might.

She murmured a continual humming sound, vibrating herself to keep warm. Occasionally she would whisper, “wake up,” in a voice she wasn’t even sure was her own. She was falling back and forth from the white lights, into her own spinning darkness.

Footsteps. A shadow to the left. Camille turned herself and saw a man. “What the hell is…” she tried to ask. He put a finger over her lips and shushed her like [s]you would[/s] a child.

“Don’t speak. You’re too tired to speak.”

She couldn’t get a good look at him. Blinded by the lights, the white, the darkness, made finally seeing a moving object like seeing the face of God; it kills you.

That wasn't very clear, It confused me a lot, Even after my second read through.

He ran his fingers through her hair. Camille welcomed the warmth, the touch, the slight comfort.

“Please keep still, or this will only be harder for the both of us.”

The light glimmered on a scalpel. [s]The scalpel[/s]It swooped towards her chest, and placed itself between her breasts.

“I have no reason to lie. This will hurt.” The scalpel pushed into her skin and dove between the layers. The blade sliced deeply and ran its way further in and down. Camille couldn’t feel the cold anymore. She could only hear herself screaming.

O_O *traumatized*

That had very powerful imagery. I liked it very much. You have a knack for these creepy death stories.

Oooh, definitely very creepy. Scary. But awesome. I guess I don’t really have anything that constructive to say - Adam already noticed the only other thing that I did (the scalpel part).

And no, you don’t have to worry about it not being realistic. Because it is.


Quote:
She blinked away the searing ache, but still she only saw white.
Only saw = saw only?


Cheers (well, maybe not exactly..),
Esme

The past tense of lie is lay.

"He put a finger over her lips and shushed her like you would a child."

I would write something... anything else. In any case, the second person really sticks out badly. Play around with it and see if you can make it better.

Also, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this didn't have an ending. Finish up the story!

Hey there Suzie! I really like this, extremely chilling and fantastic imagery! Just a few small points before I move on to general comments -

Not the kind of icy chill that creeps on [Perhaps along or across rather than on?] your skin as it is snowing, but an artificial cold, as if you were spending your time in a meat freezer.

Her blue and white poke-a-dot dress from last night’s party lied by her feet. [I think this part could be more descriptive. I like the added description of poke-a-dot but perhaps 'was draped across the floor' or 'sprawled in a heap at her feet' would add a bit more impact.

Her thoughts were running through mud, and she wasn’t sure it mattered that she was in the nude. [I think naked has more effect than in the nude.]

In general, like I said, your imagery is great but perhaps you could extend this a little. Maybe draw it out more so that she examines the white room a little. Give us a rough idea of it's size perhaps? It's very good though and I love the ending!

I'm going to have to disagree with my friends here.... This is a very overused idea. Yes, it was written very well, like always but you cant make a silk purse out of a sows ear. The whole wake up in a torture room seems common. You are better than this Suzanne.

Hope that helps.

No need for an introduction this time, here's some more observations -

The chill nibbled at her skin and left it feeling raw.

The second was that she was lying on a metal table. [You're missing that other line - The cold was the first thing Camille noticed when she woke up. - just thought I'd let you know.] [*Edit* Sorry about that Suzie! I shall read more carefully in future =) ]

Camille’s back was numb against it. [I think this could be stronger still. Perhaps 'Camille's numb back recalled the cold, smooth metal that had left no implant upon her spine even after its prolonged stay upon the table.' Or not. Lol. Much too fancy. Hmmm. Let me think again. Maybe 'Camille's back was numb against the cold, smooth surface' or something? We can discuss it in a min...

Her teeth rattled in time with the shudders of her body, drumming out a morbid melody. [Brilliant! I love the alliteration, you are a genius!]

She was falling back and forth from white lights [s]into a[/s] to spinning darkness. [Short=bigger impact.]

Sade leaned close to her and kissed her forehead. Camille welcomed the warmth, the touch, the slight comfort. [Meh. Please don't name him! Or if you must, just have him tell her his name and then continue to refer to him as 'he']

Hope some of that helps! Talk to you soon, hehe

Sew, you have a sick fascination with torture; it's scary.

What's up with the French at the beginning?

This story most reminded me of an alien abduction account. At least, that's the first thing I thought of when she awoke on a metal table.

I agree with Snoink; this has no ending. As it is, it definitely feels incomplete and lacking. Basically all you're saying is, "Oh, I woke up, and now this guy is torturing me." It raises a major question and leaves it completely unanswered -- I'm all for ambiguity, but when the whole story is a set up and does not contain any kind of pay off, it doesn't stick with you.

Well-written otherwise, though.

Expand it.

Prokaryote

Just to add my two cents on the ending -- I think it's fine as is. Telling more would be redundant and just bog down the story, taking away the shock factor. When I'm reading this, I alternate between feeling what she's feeling and hearing her screams as an outside observer, and it gives me chills. Nothing more is necessary.

I luvd dat. dat was gud!





>.>
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It's not spam if a mod gives you permission...

I have to say I like it. Phorcys may have a point in that the waking-up-in-a-torture-room narrative is a little overdone, but it was well-written enough to overcome that.

I am saddened because I do not know what the French in the beginning means...it seems to be addressing Sade...does "dit moi" mean "tell me"? And I know "pourqoui" is "why". And "sang" is "blood"? I know enough Spanish to guess that far...but I can't think of a word in Spanish like "plaisir", so I'd love to know what that means.

The cold was the first thing Camille noticed when she woke up.

Ditch "when she woke up"--as the story progresses, we realize that she has just woken up. Right now the sentence is a little clunky.

poke-a-dot

Polka-dot.

She blinked away the searing ache.

To me, "searing" and "ache" connotate two different types of pain. I don't think this was adequate to describe the sudden burn of light on the eyes. "Searing" seems much more direct, much quicker, whereas an "ache" is a more general and long-lasting pain.

“Where…where am…”

This could go. It seems to me that every character that has ever woken up in an unexpected place has said, "Where am I?" or something along those lines. It's understood that she's confused as to her location; we don't need her to voice it to understand.

She scraped her fingers against the smooth, chilling surface, searching for a crack, a dip; anything that would suggest it was less than perfect. Anything that would suggest it was real.

I like that.

Camille welcomed the warmth, the touch, the slight comfort.

I love this because even though he's obviously a little creepy and she has no idea what's going on, she responds to human touch on that very elementary level; it adds depth to the piece.

Overall, excellent job. Nice and creepy.
-Colly

Heh, added the translation.

It's a bit of fun on my part. The line is from a song by the group Enigma, where in both the song and in my story there are references to the Marque de Sade, who... well, you can look him up for yourself. ^^;


Thank you to everyone who as edited this! I know I haven't actually commented yet, but I've been editing it as I go.

Thanks for adding in the translation--it makes a lot of sense now and it's not so distracting for those of us who don't know any French.

It's a neat idea, going from a song...perhaps you should put it in quotes and credit the group?

I'm also pleased to discover that it's referencing a real person, which makes it so much more...I don't know, legitimate.

Should I be scared or amused that your idea of fun is writing about sketchy bloody things? *cowers in fear*

-Colleen

It's...it's...oh, Lord, what is it?

It's creepy/exhilarating/goosebump raising/great!

I really liked the way you built the suspense. When he kissed her forehead is when the goosebumps came.

Nice job--

What does this mean, though? It's kind of a fragment sentence. The semicolon just doesn't work. I'd change it to a comma or a hyphen.

The ceiling was white in a way that spoke of sanitation; hospitals and laboratories.

Yay for you Suz!

Wiggy