Monster - part 1 • Young Writers Society

Ranger Hawk · 2010-01-11T04:36:10Z

Okay, so this is my first post of my work! This is actually a short story I wrote today because I was bored and in a somewhat morbid mood...I've rated it 18 just to be on the safe side. Since this is kind of a mishmash of Sci-Fi and a bit of Fanfiction (I was inspired by the Alien movies and the song "Monster" by Skillet), I've decided to post it in the Other category. :) Thanks for reading! Monster The blood spattered the window with a sound resembling that of rain on a summer day. But instead of running easily down the pane as water droplets would have, the blood stuck to it tenaciously. Early morning sunlight shone through, casting the room in a reddish glow. Of course, there was no one to notice the fact, since the owner of the room and the cabin was the source whence the blood had come. The body that had recently held the blood was lying outside the window, in a manner that suggested a struggle had ensued. It had been a man; that much was evident by the bare head. He was dressed in warm clothes, which made sense, considering the recently cold temperatures. There was a gold ring that glinted dully from the left hand. There would be at least one person who would miss him, then. Probably more. From the almost portly stomach to the hand-knitted scarf that was now flung away, torn in two, he seemed to be an average human being with an average, yet fulfilling, life. Which led to the question, why? Why was he now covered in his own blood that had poured out of the large hole in his head? What could have done that? It looked like the markings of a beast; a savage, vicious, bloodthirsty beast, perhaps, that subsisted off of a man’s brain. For the grayish matter, that nerve central, was missing. The man lay in the sun that whole long day, reaching so close to the relative safety of his cabin’s window, but never making it there. Insects and animals eventually ravaged the body, until nothing but a mangled mass of rotting skin and innards draped the bones. This was the sight that greeted our hero’s eyes as he came tromping through the dense thicket of trees and entered the clearing. A cry of shock, horror, and repulsion left his mouth, and he hurried closer to the scene. “Another one,” he muttered aloud. There wasn’t anyone else to talk to, of course, so he relayed the fact to himself, and noted it with interest. “Same manner of death, I wonder?” He snapped a long, thin branch off a nearby tree and, crouching down, gingerly poked the skull. It rolled over on its side easily enough, and he craned his neck to get a better look. “Hole in the skull,” he remarked aloud. “Same as last time.” Our hero stood up with a groan that should have belonged to a man much older than he. Not that he was a young man; but he certainly wasn’t old enough to sound like he was arthritic and rheumatic. “It couldn’t be, could it?” he mused. “But then again, no animal that I know of could create a hole like that. It’s too perfect.” Perhaps, he pondered hopefully, it was the work of some psychopathic murderer, who used some cylindrical implement to stab his victims in the head and then— “Took the brains?” Our hero scoffed at the idea. “To what purpose? Study? They’d be more use to him whole, not dragged out through a small opening like that.” Then a more disturbing thought occurred. “Eat them? Perhaps in some delusional idea that he’d grow smarter?” Either way, he clung to the slim hope that whatever had killed the man was a human. Not what he thought it really was. If that was the case—he shuddered and focused on the corpse. “Well, there’s nothing I can do for him. Don’t even have any way of knowing how to identify him. That’s for the authorities anyways, if they weren’t so frickin’ scared of coming up here.” He took one more solemn look at the remains before turning and heading back to his own little cabin.

The first sentence hooked my immediately. But, I find it odd how it was explained as if some God-like force saw it and nobody else. That is what happened right? Because, no sane person would stay put without at least gasping as gore splatters a window.

Our hero stood up with a groan that should have belonged to a man much older than he. Not that he was a young man; but he certainly wasn’t old enough to sound like he was arthritic and rheumatic.

I do not like how the protagonist is described as "hero" doesn't that just seem like there is a sign over his head saying, "Look at me! Look at me reader! I'm the main character!" I think that is made clear by the fact of a character being the center of narration.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do for him. Don’t even have any way of knowing how to identify him. That’s for the authorities anyways, if they weren’t so frickin’ scared of coming up here.”

"anyways" should be "anyway" it is the proper way of saying it. But, this is dialogue, so it shouldn't matter much. Although, it would make the character saying it sound more professional.

Apart from that I think the previous reviewers covered most of the mistakes. I am a big fan of killer creature related things so I am crossing my fingers that the killer is an animal. Actually, this piece reminds me of the novel Relic by Douglas J. Preston and Lincoln Child. A good intense read for insane people like me.

What I didn't like about this piece, as I said before is you referring to the protagonist as "our hero"

But, I did thoroughly enjoy your work.

-Alpha of The Insane Writers

Monster - part 1

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