Supernatural Deliverance

I woke up feeling dizzy and painful. My head thumped like drum beats passing by and coming back again. I tried to focus my vision; it took a number of tries until finally I could make out the dark brown wall in front of me. The wall was made like a cottage wall, having that log curve- in and out. I looked elsewhere around me (and of course that made me realise Live in the UK? other aches and pains around my body). There was a window looking out to dark trees to my left, just a plain window no decorations. And a single chair stood next to it. The floor was all wooden boards with cracks and no carpet. I tried, but failed, to look behind me. I was tied to a chair by tough, scratchy ropes. The ropes were tied around my arms and legs rendering me useless to moving the chair if I tried, and my chest. Since I was now totally focused on trying to figure out why I was tied to this chair, I didn’t realise the man to my right against the wall, until he let out a moan. He was all bruised in the face, with little scratches here and there. His clothes were torn up revealing even his gentiles. Where his clothes were torn up there were deep cuts, slashes, and bruises in his flesh. He had no shoes on and his feet were swollen. His eyes were also swollen, with a slight dark red tinge. He did not look healthy. Lots of "was" "were" and "had" here. Try to eliminate those as much as possible.

I tried to speak but nothing came out. I was too shocked by his condition, along with everything else, that my tongue was numb. After a while of taking in his figure and me trying to speak, I saw him open his eyes but only just as to the swelling. Only just as to the swelling? He looked at me with deep blue eyes; a matted brown beard surrounded his features. His eyes were, even though half covered by swelling, entrancing and warm; very warm. They gave me comfort that I had never felt before, and that I never thought possible in such a confusing, painful situation. He looked at me with, strangely, a type of compassion. Not any compassion but a compassion for me. He looked sad when he saw my arms and legs tied up so that I couldn’t move, and my chest that I almost found it hard to breathe. Yet what amazed me was, was that he was looking at me greatly concerned when he was in a much more terrible state than I!

Finally I spoke.

“What... what happened to you?”

He forced himself to speak using up almost all of the energy he had. His chest shuddered in effort.

“Payment for the crime,” he managed with a deep shudder.

Underneath the man’s effort to speak, there was such an overwhelming soothing touch to his voice. What also touched me was when he spoke there was a sense of power and authority let out into the place we were in.

“You mean you committed a crime,” I asked.

His chest heaved again.

“No, I saved...” He struggled greatly, “saved the...” With that he closed his eyes and left the world. I couldn’t describe in words or letter how he died in that moment. But as he did I felt the ropes around me tying me to the chair loosen. It was powerful and I guess you could say supernatural.

I tried to move the chair towards the man and managed but I stopped. I heard a door creak behind me. Then footsteps coming up to my back, all the comfort and warmth I felt left me in an instant. I saw the shadow of the figure behind me on the wall in front of me because of the single candle on the chair next to the window.

“Hello Jacob,” he spoke like steel against steel and whips against your spine. “You have talked to the... saviour, have you? Mhm, I would think so. Well then, how about you have a little talk with me hm?”

“Who are you(Questionmark)” I asked(comma) obviously with fear. The shadow on the wall shifted slightly to the right; I found myself sweating. By the way, saying "obviously with fear" is telling not showing. How was there fear? Did his voice crack? Was it so quiet you could barely hear him?

“Let’s just say your collector.”

“Collector(Questionmark)” I asked.

With my words he walked round the chair to face me. I almost choked myself dead in awe and fear. This figure was not man, but was what a man would be after long years in his grave. He was a skeleton clothed in a dark robe and hood. His skull face was a creamy colour, and his clothing let off a foul smell(comma) like rotting flesh. His features seemed to grin (if that is possible for a skeleton). This walking talking skull confirmed to me I was in the supernatural.

But how?

Weird....Very weird... Well, couple quick comments. Semi-colons are usually used between two parts that could be a complete sentence but also work together. Telling, not showing, is bad. Question marks should go after questions hence the name. Very good. And strange, which I think, is good. In this case.

Matthew wrote:I woke up feeling dizzy and painful. My head thumped like drum beats passing by and coming back again.

How can you feel painful? And how can drum beats pass by and come back again? Rephrasing the second sentence and fixing up the word choice in the first should be easy fixes.

Matthew wrote:I tried to focus my vision; it took a number of tries until finally I could make out the dark brown wall in front of me. The wall was made like a cottage wall, having that log curve- in and out. I looked elsewhere around me (and of course that made me realise other aches and pains around my body).

I just have to say, "Whee! Properly used semicolon!"

That said, you use "wall" and variants of "try" too close to each other. In cases like these, the thesaurus is your friend. Just be sure the synonym you choose has the correct connotations.

Matthew wrote:His clothes were torn up revealing even his gentiles.

Did you mean "genitals?"

Now, for the overall impressions.

When posting on the internet, spacing your paragraphs (having a blank line in between) is a must as the traditional indent doesn't often work on websites. Just something to keep in mind for next time.

You have a lot of short sentences. While short sentences aren't bad, having too many in close succession creates a feel of choppiness, making it more difficult and less pleasant to read. In addition to the short sentences, you tell everything rather than show or imply things. While I disagree with the adage to always "show; don't tell," showing things through description rather than just telling us outright does have its merits, especially when it comes to flow.

Now, while you do have some descriptive elements scattered throughout, the telling is so omnipresent that drowns these descriptive bits. In addition, the descriptions aren't particularly creative or clear, such as the drum beats passing line. Descriptions should catch and hold a reader's interest; this is the main thing that distinguishes them from telling.

Admittedly, descriptions are tricky, and the only way to develop a feel for them is through practice. I've found that writing descriptions of sights I've seen (like a particularly spectacular sunset) or poetry is a great way to get this practice.

That said, overall, spelling and grammar were decent, and this prologue was very much readable. The supernatural/fantastic element felt a forced to me since the narrator kept commenting on how things were supernatural seeming. That pretty much killed my suspension of disbelief. Now, if the narrator were to substitute normal for supernatural, and if a bit more focus were spent on their feelings of confusion and bewilderment, it might not feel so forced.

The skeleton person was sufficiently creepy, though.

Hey, Matt! Thought I'd swing by and read this, since you so kindly reviewed my prologue for me. I figured I'd return the favor. I promise I'll leave a review soon. I've finally stopped procrastinating writing the next part of my story, so I'm trying to get that done right now.

Be back soon, bro. Promise!

Hey! Your writings really good! this isn't really an entry saying what you should do as much as i have questions. Is the man that was tied up Jesus like? Did your MC have any guesses on his crime? Did he have any wild thoughts of where he could possibly be? I think if you put that in their it would be just a tad more interesting. Very good work tho!

Whoa, are you sure you're only 13? This is good, bro!

I particularly liked this sentence:

This figure was not man, but was what a man would be after long years in his grave. He was a skeleton clothed in a dark robe and hood.

Very descriptive indeed, my friend. You play very well with words, which is something that grows more and more as you keep writing.

Now, there were a lot of gram&spell issues. A lot. I'll point a few of them out to you:

I tried to focus my vision; it took a number of tries until finally I could make out the dark brown wall in front of me. The wall was made like a cottage wall, having that log curve- in and out.

No need for the repetition of wall, dear. "It" will suffice here, since we know what you're referring to already.

His clothes were torn up revealing even his gentiles.

This was mentioned by someone else, but I shall repeat them just to annoy you. Genitals is spelled wrong.

He looked sad when he saw my arms and legs tied up so that I couldn’t move, and my chest that I almost found it hard to breathe.

This is scattery, not phrased correctly. Easily fixable. Try: He looked sad when he saw my arms and legs tied up so that I couldn't move, and looked somberly at the ropes tied around my chest that made it hard for me to breathe.

There's a lot more of these in there, but I hope someone who's less lazy than me will come around and point them all out for you.

Something that sort of pulled me out was the giant block of text in the beginning. Add spaces and divide the first paragraph into several paragraps. More readers will be inclined to read it.

Now, I'm going to give you my opinions of the story. I think it's a real hooker. Very mysterious indeed. The end, especially, pulled me in and made me wonder whether Jacob was going to live or die. And the Grim Reaper, ooh, I like him! I've always liked him.

However, in the beginning I found myself wondering if the narrater was a boy or a girl. At first, I got the feeling that he was a boy. But then the way he started describing the man across from him and the way he felt made me think he was a girl. I'm not trying to be rude, it's just something that maybe you might want to think about. It's okay, I've had people get the my gender wrong once when I wrote a short story. Kind of annoying, but s'all good!

Anyways, like I said, I thought this was a hooker, but it needs some work.

Ciao, keep dreamin'

Dream.