Into the Shack

Into The Shack

At first, the shack seemed like it was nothing more than an abandoned building, with the windows boarded up and the roof caving in, but on inspection, I realized it was something else completely.
The sun was beginning to set over the horizon of the woods, throwing tall shadows onto the façade of the homely building. The moon was beginning to come out of its shell in the sky, peeping out to make sure it was safe.
I was out of breath. Trying to catch my it, I bent over and placed my hands on my knees. I felt my hot, sticky sweat sliding down my face.
“Tony?” I called out for the hundredth time, my eyes
[desperately]
searching the wood. They were straining to see through the thick shadows.
There was no answer. I finally caught my breath and sighed. Tony had been gone for, what was it now? Ten hours? I glanced at my digital watch and read the time and date. 7:49 PM, Wednesday, June 4th, 2009. Yes. A little under then ten hours.
[where are you, tony? where did you go, bud?]
The last time I’d seen him was right before he went to go take a piss down by the river. We were packing up the last of the equipment from camp, and he'd told me he would be back in a moment or two.
Ten hours later, I still hadn’t found him. The reasonable thing to have done would be to call the park rangers, for we were in a National Park—even with it being as large as it was, Tony would have to show up somewhere. I most certainly would have, except for the fact that I was fifteen years old and had no idea where in the park we were. Even with ten hours of searching, I hadn’t found a single person in the whole area.
[it’s as if the wood swallowed everyone up.]
“Tony?” I cried again, my ears straining to hear the faintest sound of a reply, but all I could hear was the subtle tumbling of water from the nearby creek.
Tony was my cousin; he lived with my dad and I because his parents—my mother’s sister and brother in law—were killed in a car accident seven years ago. Shortly after, my mother died of breast cancer, and Tony, Dad and I lived together in a small apartment in the city. Once a year, Tony, he being twenty-two this year, would take me down to the forest and spend a night or two camping.
And now he'd disappeared.
“Tony, where are you?” I asked the forest, and it responded with the quiet chatter of birds and the snapping of twigs.
I heard a scream, and my heart stopped. It was most definitely a woman’s scream, being very high pitched and almost sounding as if the woman was being
[tortured?]
Yes. That.
The scream couldn’t have been more than a fifty yards away. I suddenly felt as if the forest was watching my every move, and as if there was something lurking in those dark shadows. I quickly shuddered away the thought, and I heard the scream again. This time louder, and much closer. My blood began to race and I shivered.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I took three steps towards the sound, my feet crunching over twigs and dead tree leaves. I could hear them
[snap, snap, snap]
breaking under my feet.
There was a movement behind me, and the hairs on my neck stood up.
“It’s just an animal,” I whispered. Still, I glanced warily behind me and saw nothing but the shadows. The sun was almost completely gone, and the moon had decided it was safe
[but it’s not]
to come out of its shell.
Another scream. This time, it seemed distant. If there was something happening to that poor lady, I had to help her. There was something inside of me that urged my feet to take a few more steps, and I broke out into a run, following the screams.
It wasn’t fifteen seconds later when the shack came into view. It was extremely tiny (probably only a one roomed building) and the windows had two by fours nailed to them. The roof was almost completely destroyed, probably by weathering. Almost instantly, I knew that this was the building where the screaming had come from.
I backed away from it. There was some kind of a dark aura around it, and it made it feel hostile. Maybe, I thought, I should go back to the campsite. Tony will probably be there, worrying his guts out that I might be lost in the wood.
[i already am.]
I decided that if I heard the woman scream one more time, I would find some way to help her, but if not, I would go back to the ca—
The scream came again, much louder, because it came from inside of the shack. My eyes widened as I held still, not grasping what I’d got myself into.
[you can still run away.]
Tony wouldn’t run away.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice shaking and trembling like Jell-O. I stood in silence for another moment, waiting for another scream, or a reply, or anything. My teeth began to chatter.
[???why didn’t i bring my coat???]
There was an unnatural silence. Even the birds stopped singing, and the animals stood quiet, torturing my ears with a silence I felt I could slice with a knife.
“Is there someone in there?” I asked, gaining more courage. “Can I help you?”
Another scream. I backed away, frightened. There was someone in the shack! Someone that needed my—
The shack door began to open, creaking and shuddering. I held my breath, feeling paralyzed.
[should i ask if she needs help?]
[run away! far away!]
There was rustling inside of the shack, and a woman’s voice cried, “What do you want?”
A sigh of relief passed through my lips.
“I heard someone screaming, and I was wondering—”
“Come in here. Now,” she ordered.
“Um, I can’t. I have to get—”
“Where's your coat, boy?”
My mouth dropped in surprise. She could see him through the windows! There was no other way that she could have known he wasn’t wearing a coat; the door wasn’t open wide enough to let her see him.
“I—I forgot it,” I answered, taking a step backwards, preparing myself to bolt back into the woods. There was something about the woman that made me feel very uneasy.
“I know where your cousin Tony is,” the woman suddenly said, raising her voice. “But you have to come inside and sit down. I’ll make you some nice hot cocoa.”
My breath was caught in my throat. “You know where Tony is?”
“Oh, yes. Come in, please.”
I took a step toward the door, and then hesitated.
“Don’t worry, Dan, I don’t bite.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked, my eyes wide with surprise.
“Get in here.”
I walked up to the shack door and glanced inside. To my surprise, I saw a glowing fire, lots of candles, and the woman.
Her back was turned to me. My jaw dropped as I examined her. Her gray hair was extremely stringy and extremely long. It trailed all the way down to her waist. It didn’t take another moment longer for me to realize that this woman must have been in her late sixties, and the least. She wasn’t tall, a few inches shorter than myself. In the shimmering candlelight, I stared, horrified, at her skin.
“Why do you judge me, Dan?” she asked, her back still turned to me. “I am no different than you. A few years older, give or take, but that’s about it. Please don’t look at me that way. I am quite self-conscious.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked, still staring at her skin.
“Would you like me to stir your cocoa, or would you like to?”
“Um,” I replied, fumbling for an answer.
“I figured I should ask. Your cousin wanted to stir his own. Such a pleasant little fellow he was.”
[???was???]
“I don’t want any hot chocolate. I want to know where my cousin is,” I demanded, still standing in the doorway.
“I’ll stir it then,” she replied, opening one of her cupboards. She fumbled for a moment and retrieved a long, metal spoon. “Close the door, Dan. You don’t know what might be lurking out there in them shadows. I hate nighttime. I really do. It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
I couldn’t stop looking at her skin. She stopped stirring his hot chocolate, and looked straight ahead of her, at the wall.
“Why are you looking at me that way, Dan?”
I gulped.
“I think I’m beautiful. Don’t you?” At that moment, she turned around, and I saw her face for the first time. I stepped backwards and backed into the door.
She had one gray eye. The other one was missing. All that was left was a huge, gaping socket. Her skin was sagging and pale and full of the rash that he had seen on her neck and backside. A horrible, pink rash that devoured most of her skin. She had a thick, black mole at the edge of her mouth. When she smiled, he noticed that most of her teeth were gone, and the few that remained were rotten and holey.
“I think I’m beautiful,” the woman repeated. “Don’t you?”
“Y-yes,” I replied.
“Good. Here’s your cocoa. Drink it all up. It will make your bones big and strong and make hair grow on your chest. Things like that.” She held out a steaming cup of murky hot chocolate, and I almost didn’t reach out to grab it, but the look in her one eye forced I to.
“You’re a fine young man,” she replied, eyeing him from head to foot.
“Where is my cousin?” I asked.
“Drink up,” she said, and grabbed her cup of cocoa with a frail hand. She raised it to her lips. “Bottoms up!” She raised the cup and drank the entire cup of burning hot cocoa. Afterwards, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and said, “Yummy.”
For the first time, I took my eyes off her and glanced into my cup. There were little particles of
[bugs? ashes? dirt?]
something floating around in it.
“Drink it and I’ll tell you where your cousin is, Danny Boy,” she said, her voice hot.
Grimacing, I raised it to my lips and took a quick sip. And another.
“It’s good, isn’t it? Auntie Hilda makes the best hot cocoa in the world.”
“That’s your name, then? Hilda?”
“Drink it up, boy.”
I drank it up, and squeezed my eyes closed the entire time. It was scalding hot, and it burned all of my taste buds. I wouldn’t be tasting food for another week.
“Will you tell me now?” I asked, after I swallowed the last sip.
“Yes. Come over by the fire and sit in the chair,” Hilda said, pointing to the two chairs by the fire. They were worn and old, and looked disgusting.
“Please just tell me now. I have to find him!”
“Sit!”
I groaned and walked in front of her, and sat carefully in one of the seats. She took the other one, and the fire lit up her face. I grimaced as I was forced to look into her one eye, and her diseased skin.
“Now. Where to begin?” she asked, and leaned back into her chair. The springs groaned under her.

-

Erm. Sorry for the lame cut off point! Post the rest tomorrow or something.

hello

Hi, I'm sorry about this, but I was doing a proper review, then my computer crashed while I was 1/2 way through, so I'll just give you the brief.

The sentences you have in brackets, They are supposed to be your thoughts, right? Thoughts should be in italics, but not in brackets. It just makes the thing easier to read, as that is how its traditionally done.
Capitals:
Your new best friend. use them sparingly, go over and check all of your sentences, upscale all of the "I"'s and sentence starters.(It's easiest if you put it into microsoft word, and then let it tell you where you have gone wrong.
Just a quick review of what I did before the crash...

I most certainly would have, except for the fact that I was fifteen years old and had no idea where in the park we were.

Just missed out a word there.

Tony was my cousin; he lived with my dad and I because his parents[s]—my mother’s sister and brother in law—[/s]were killed in a car accident seven years ago.

You alraedy said he was your cousin, this is just crowding the readers' mind with useless info.

Once a year, Tony, he being twenty-two this year, [s]he[/s] would take me down to the forest and spend a night or two camping.

There was an unnatural silence. Even the birds stopped singing, and the animals stood quiet, torturing my ears with a silence I felt I could slice with a knife.

This is very nice writing there, brovo!

The shack door began to open, creaking and shuddering. I held my breath, feeling paralyzed.

Nice descriptions there, keep it up.

caught up to where I was now...
[quote]

WOW ! Nice story there... I was going to write a review, but my computer crashed halfway through, and then i accidentally deleted it... Oh well, I'll write it up in the morning... I will, this story is well deserving of my time!

Here's the review that I promised you last night!

At first, the shack seemed like it was nothing more than an abandoned building, with the windows boarded up and the roof caving in, but on inspection, I realized it was something else completely.

Not a very good opening sentence. I must say that this nearly discouraged me from reading your story at first... try to make it descriptive, heart-wrenching and action-packed all rolled into on.( Don't worry if you can't, I try really hard and fail too. )

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon of the woods, throwing tall shadows onto the facade of the homely building. The moon was beginning to come out of its shell in the sky, peeping out to make sure it was safe.

Does the building really look homely to you? Other than that you have a good description here, you might want to put in something about it being run-down, holes in the walls... I personally thought of it as the shrieking shack from Harry Potter, so you have to tell us the materials as well. You could do this by saying:
Dark spires of wood protruded from the body at odd angles, the shack much resembled the mangled tree in which it came from.

Tony?” I called out for the hundredth time, my eyes
[desperately]
searching the wood. They were straining to see through the thick shadows.

I don’t get the brackets. You continue this a lot through the story, most of them are thoughts… but I’m not sure if you should just put it into italics and leave out the brackets.

Tony had been gone for what was it now?

Comma after for.
[where are you, tony? where did you go, bud?] [/quote]
This is a thought, you shouldn't have it in brackets. Both "where"'s and "tony" should be capitalized.

We were packing up the last of the equipment from camp, and he had told me he would be back in a moment or two.

Hello, let me introduce you to your new best friend... Abbreviations! You're writing this story in first person, so you don't have to spell everything out like you normally would. Read over your story by yourself, and see if you can abbreviate any of the words in sentences that you choke on. They just don't sound right when you grow up in a world that uses them left right and centre.

I most certainly would have, except for the fact that I was fifteen years old and had no idea where in the park we were.

This s good, you're trying to prove something to us, and it's like you're telling the story in first person. Imagine if you were trying to tell your grandchildren this story. Write it like that, and prove yourself innocent at all times possible!

Tony was my cousin; he lived with my dad and I because his parents—[s]my mother’s sister and brother in law—[/s]were killed in a car accident seven years ago.

you already told us that this was a cousin you're talking about.. so why did you tell us this?

Once a year, Tony, he being twenty-two this year, [s]he[/s] would take me down to the forest and spend a night or two camping.

And now he had disappeared.

Abbreviations my dear friend!

“Tony, where are you?” I asked the forest, and it responded with the quiet chatter of birds and the snapping of twigs.

Again, I like the descriptions used here. they fit well into the story, while you're loading us with info during the rest of it.

I heard a scream, and my heart stopped.

I think that this would be better separated into two different sentences:
I heard a scream. My heart stopped.
You could even jazz up the "hears" and "scream." theses are terrible words, try:
A shriek pierced my ears. My heart stooped.
Your story, your decision.

It was [s]most[/s] definitely a woman’s scream, being very high pitched and almost sounding as if the woman was being

And now he had disappeared.

Abbreviate.

The scream couldn’t have been more than a fifty yards away. I suddenly felt as if the forest was watching my every move, [s]and [/s]as if there was something lurking in those dark shadows.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I took three steps towards the sound, my feet crunching over twigs and dead tree leaves. I could hear them

[snap, snap, snap]

breaking under my feet.

I like this bit, not sure why, but the "[snap,snap,snap] just makes it nice, almost poetic. Good work!

It wasn’t fifteen seconds later when the shack came into view. It was extremely tiny (probably only a one roomed building) and the windows had two by fours nailed to them. The roof was almost completely destroyed, probably by weathering. Almost instantly, I knew that this was the building where the screaming had come from.

Is this the same shack that you were at in the beginning? you need to clarify it up that you weren't at the shack. This just confused me.

[i already am.]

Always capitalize proper nouns.. this vexed me throughout the entire story.

[you can still run away.]

Capitals.

[???why didn’t i bring my coat???]

Even more capitals.

There was an unnatural silence. Even the birds stopped singing, and the animals stood quiet, torturing my ears with a silence I felt I could slice with a knife.

Bravo on the description once again!

[should I ask if she needs help?]

[run away! far away!]

Capitals

“Where is your coat, boy?”

I was almost too captivated to notice this one! Abbreviations here please.

“I know where your cousin Tony is,” the woman suddenly said, raising her voice. “But you have to come inside and sit down. I’ll make you some nice hot cocoa.”

NO! ITS A TRAP. DON'T GO IN! RUN AWAY! FAR AWAY!

[???was???]

I was just about to copy paste this to ask of capitals, but then someone opened the doo to the room I'm in, And I jumped a foot in the air. Bravo!

Other than that... GREAT! I really cant say anything more... It was really good. I think I gave you a gold star last night.... Continue please!

Hey Bubs --

Bit rough, wouldn't you say? I'd caution you on using YWS as your proofreader, especially for this type of story. The little things, man, they'll kill the mood quickly. When you're establishing a creepy atmosphere, a glaring typo can pull the reader right out of it.

*

At first, the shack seemed like it was nothing more than an abandoned building, with the windows boarded up and the roof caving in, but on inspection, I realized it was something else completely.

I'd agree with asxz; this isn't a particularly strong opener. We know the story is going to be about a shack of some sort. This line doesn't introduce anything new to hook us with; plus, it's a tad clumsy. You can axe the first comma, by the way.

*

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon of the woods, throwing tall shadows onto the façade of the homely building. The moon was beginning to come out of its shell in the sky, peeping out to make sure it was safe.

I would kill one of those beginnings.

*

I was out of breath. Trying to catch my it

Catch my it? These are the typos I'm talking about. Also, don't say he's out of breath. Just say that he's trying to catch his breath. The former is implied by the latter.

*

I felt my hot, sticky sweat sliding down my face.

Kill the my; we know it's his sweat.

*

[desperately]

Ah yes, the brackets. Interesting little experiment, with mixed results. I'll go into it more later.

*

A little under then ten hours.

'Nother one of those leftover words.

*

for we were in a National Park

For is one of my pet peeves. No one says "for." They say "since" and "because" or even "seeing as," but no one except characters in fantasy novels says "for." Simply not natural.

*

Even with ten hours of searching

I'd change with to after.

*

he lived with my dad and I because his parents

Change I to me. If you took away "my dad and," what would you use? You'd use "me."

And, damn me to hell for saying this about a short story, but that paragraph was too info-dumpish for my tastes. Here's my beef: Thus far, this does not appear to be a story primarily concerned with character. While that is not a bad thing (some stories are simply more action-oriented), that little paragraph is not going to help us empathize with the main character. You have to know what your story is about -- and then delete what isn't needed. Basically what I'm saying is, that paragraph isn't worth the space it takes up.

You could, however, try to fit in token information about how he got in that situation -- just do it more naturally. As it is, it looks like you just chose an arbitrary spot and plopped the info down.

*

I heard a scream, and my heart stopped.

I must agree with asxz. This is not a very dramatic sentence. That and needs to go.

*

The scream couldn’t have been more than a fifty yards away. I suddenly felt as if the forest was watching my every move, and as if there was something lurking in those dark shadows. I quickly shuddered away the thought, and I heard the scream again. This time louder, and much closer. My blood began to race and I shivered.

Speaking of ands, what is this monstrosity of a paragraph? As R.L. Stine would tell you, ands do not build tension. Periods build tension; paragraph breaks build tension.

But ands, man.

Ands do not.

*

[snap, snap, snap]

Once again I'll agree with asxz. This was an effective use of your bracket-thought-italic-thingys. One of the few.

*

[but it’s not]

Yes. This one is not effective.

*

[???why didn’t i bring my coat???]

This looks reeeally bad, mate. All those question marks -- no. This must go.

*

She could see him through the windows! There was no other way that she could have known he wasn’t wearing a coat; the door wasn’t open wide enough to let her see him.

What? Am I missing something, or did you just go from first-person to third-person within the same paragraph?

*

Her back was turned to me. My jaw dropped as I examined her. Her gray hair was extremely stringy and extremely long. It trailed all the way down to her waist.

Too many hers.

*

and the least.

Another one of those typos.

*

[???was???]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

*

She stopped stirring his hot chocolate, and looked straight ahead of her, at the wall.

Straight ahead of her? That just sounds clumsy.

*

She had one gray eye. The other one was missing. All that was left was a huge, gaping socket. Her skin was sagging and pale and full of the rash that he had seen on her neck and backside. A horrible, pink rash that devoured most of her skin. She had a thick, black mole at the edge of her mouth. When she smiled, he noticed that most of her teeth were gone, and the few that remained were rotten and holey.

Tsk, tsk. Did you watch The Shining, boy? Highly inappropriate for your age. I'm gonna have to tell your momma.

*

“You’re a fine young man,” she replied, eyeing him from head to foot.

You switched your POV again...

*

Afterwards, she wiped her lips

You can kill that comma.

*

I drank it up, and squeezed my eyes closed the entire time. It was scalding hot, and it burned all of my taste buds. I wouldn’t be tasting food for another week.

First of all, I absolutely hate it when I burn my taste buds and I can't taste anything, so props for putting that detail in. Secondly, just how stupid is Danny? I can tolerate some idiocy, but -- argh, I'm irritated when it's the driving force of a story. That drink could've been drugged, easily -- would you really accept a strange drink from a stranger? A weird stranger, no less?

*

You've a couple major problems:

And then I did this, and then I did that is not a good way to tell a story. It's a problem that plagues this whole piece and (heh) really started to get on my nerves. It's obvious you haven't taken much time to examine the story's flow. You've got to go over it, restructuring each sentence and paragraph individually until they all sound right.

Your narrative POV switches. I'm assuming it was on accident, unless I'm missing something. But towards the end you started changing from first-person to third-person. Highly jarring. You must fix this.

The brackets are poop. Okay, perhaps it's not a bad idea in theory. But it doesn't work in practice. You make a paragraph break for each line of bracket-thoughts, thus totally interrupting the flow. Just... no. Italics are fine for expressing a character's thoughts, but don't get fancy. The [snap, snap, snap] part worked well, but it's not enough to justify the other bombs. Scrap the crap!

Typos, typos, typos! Dude! The trouble with typos: I find one, and in the back of my mind I'm constantly searching for more. As I said before, it pulled me out of the story. Proofread, for the reader's sake.

*

In conclusion: Needs a lot of spit and polish. It's the little things that drag this story down. The concept is decent; the execution is lousy. Clean it up. Make your sentences more suspenseful. And be sure to do the same to the second/other part(s). Revise.

Prokaryote

Hey Jare! I can't give you a proper review right now because my computer is only showing half of the story on this review post page thing. But according to Prok's review the brackets were the MC's thoughts. Well I didn't know that, so I was confused about that through the whole story. I'll review it best I can later
~peanut~

Hey, you said you'd write more up in the morning! Where is it??!?! *frantically searches forums*