Regan Smith kicked the path, sending small, white stones skittering across the park lawn. She was bored, having nothing to do other than to idle away an hour or so before she headed back to college
You’ll regret it when you don’t hand in your essays on time,”
“Er… Yeah.” Relief washed over her now that his motives for stopping her had been explained, and that they weren’t as eerie as she’d suspected.
Regan noted with disgust the dirt under his fingernails and in the cracks of his dry hands. Black hair creeped out from under his torn and stained sleeve, nearly obscuring a small, black dragon tattoo on the back of his wrist.
“Oh, I, erm…” It wasn’t like she wanted to catch anything, but being polite would hopefully send him on his way faster
“Huh? Oh. Ha, ha…”
Bad joke.
After a moment’s hesitation, Lawson forced his legs to move until he was beside the man, unable to believe who the man really was. “Master Sharman?”
“You’ll regret it when you don’t hand in your essays on time,” she’d growled, bloodshot eyes sweeping across the fidgeting class. If only Mrs Harper had known how right she’d been, then perhaps her mouth would have twisted in a smug smile as she stared at Regan.
“Tell me about the girl, Lawson. Let’s not waste the day on idle chit-chat.”
Then we will be able to know where they are cowering, and it shall only take one final incursion until the problem is dealt with
Phoenix really covered everything I was going to nitpick on, so all I have to add is that you did an excellent job with the dialogue, especially between Lawson and Sharman. You just made it sound so...real; I was able to picture it going on between two different characters. Your humor is great as well. EmmaJane wrote:The hollow notes were drowned out by a gentle breeze that whispered two simple words of hope into any listening ear as softly as one to a lover.
Curse Breaker…
EmmaJane wrote:Hi! So, here is chapter one, at last! It's taken some time to get it together and presentable enough for all you guys, but it's finally here!
Does it carry on from the prologue okay? And please, point out any little thing. I would love to hear from anyone!
Well, hope you all enjoy it!
1.
Regan Smith kicked the path, sending small, white stones skittering across the park lawn. < (exellent. We instantly know that it's in the future, at least compared to the prolouge.) She was bored, having nothing to do other than to idle away an hour or so before she headed back to college. Missing essays often caused her to skip English; a wise choice, considering how Mrs Harper had greeted their class at the start of the year.
“You’ll regret it when you don’t hand in your essays on time,” she’d growled, bloodshot eyes sweeping across the fidgeting class. If only Mrs Harper had known how right she’d been, then perhaps her mouth would have twisted in a smug smile as she stared at Regan. < (this is all confusing. Please try to clear up.)
But Mrs Harper hadn’t known, no one had known. Least of all Regan as she continued down the path which cut through the park, unaware that each step was taking her closer to a different path, one not filled with pleasant, white stones, but with darkness and dangers, and creatures which should only exist in the foulest of imaginations. < (this makes the reader want to hear more. Mabye introduce this later-ish, when you can add to it.)
“Excuse me, love!”
She glanced up to see a haggard-looking man standing in front of her. His small eyes roved over her body and lingered on her face, as though he was trying to decide if Regan was familiar or not. Not was the answer he was looking for, as Regan would have remembered such a man. < (The ititalized Not is unneeded.)If not by his smell, then by the black stubble that spouted on his chin like the beginnings of a contagious disease. < (brill.)
Regan tried hard not to stare at him as she replied as politely as possible, “Yes?”
“Could you help me? You look local; do you know where The Rose is? It’s an oldish theatre. Meant to be meetin’ a coupla mates there.”
“Er… Yeah.” Relief washed over her now that his motives for stopping her had been explained, and that they weren’t as eerie as she’d suspected. “Um… Just go left … that way out of the park.” She pointed in the direction she’d just been walking in. “Keep going that way. Cross the road at the traffic lights. Go down Boarder Way Street. Turn right. And… Well, you should see it. It’s, ah, near the graveyard.” < (nice. I like how you've created a town like this. Or is it a real town, real directions??)
His smile stretched until Regan saw the glint of a yellow tooth. “Thanks love. Appreciate it very much.” < (he's very Jack Sparrow-ish, isn't he?
He held out his hand, wanting to shake hers in thanks. Regan noted with disgust the dirt under his fingernails and in the cracks of his dry hands. Black hair creeped out from under his torn and stained sleeve, nearly obscuring a small, black dragon tattoo on the back of his wrist. < (what does Regan think of this tattoo?)
“Oh, I, erm…” It wasn’t like she wanted to catch anything, but being polite would hopefully send him on his way faster. < (ititalized word again unneeded.) So Regan fought against her revulsion and reached out to shake his hand. The instant their hands clasped, something jolted up her arm, like a small, static shock.
“Ouch!” She jerked away and held her tingling hand to her chest.
The man’s face split into a grin. “Must be my electric personality.”
“Huh? Oh. Ha, ha…”
Bad joke.
“Well, thanks for your help, love. Hope we’ll < (we?) be seein’ you around sometime soon!” He started to back away, still grinning like a possessed Jack-O-Lantern.
With a frown, Regan started to continue down the path again, still holding her prickling hand tight to her. Unease gnawed away at her until she finally paused and turned, searching for the strange man.
He had vanished.
The stranger ducked behind a clump of bushes as soon as the girl started walking again. He passed a bench, ignoring its occupant who ignored him in return by focusing on his newspaper, and kept walking until he found the perfect spot behind a tree. With bated breath, he peered between its branches and hungrily watched her with his dark eyes. Greedily, they devoured every little detail; how the sun glinted on her long hair, how each halting step she took grew smaller, and how she still cradled her Marked arm close to her…
“Dear me, Lawson. It astounds me how you always fail to see what’s under your nose.”
Lawson jumped as soon as the first word was uttered. He spun around to see the man on the bench coolly fold up his newspaper and set it aside. The man patted the empty seat next to him, shaking his head like a father reprimanding his son. “Come, Lawson, sit with me. It’s a glorious day to be outside.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Lawson forced his legs to move until he was beside the man, unable to believe who the man really was. “Master Sharman?”
“Tell me about the girl, Lawson. Let’s not waste the day on idle chit-chat.” He shook his head again. “And stop looking like such a bloody fool! Take a seat! You’ve already drawn enough unwanted attention to yourself, spying on schoolgirls from behind trees. Really, have some class!”
“Y-yes, Master Sharman.” Lawson’s cheeks grew red. “‘Cept I was only just watchin’. You know, checkin’ she didn’t collapse or anythin’.”
“Lawson, if she didn’t lose consciousness while you Marked her, then why would she when you walked away? And no, “out of relief” isn’t an answer.” < (confusing to the reader) Disdain dripped from his words. He paused and frowned. “Let us return to the matter at hand. Lawson, there have been reports of a couple of Rebels in this area. At some point, this girl’s path and theirs will cross, and at that moment in time I want you there to follow them, unseen. Then we will be able to know where they are cowering, and it shall only take one final incursion until the problem is dispelled. Am I clear?”
“Follow the girl, find the Rebels?”
“Follow the girl, find the Rebels,” Sharman repeated. “Good.” He started to get to his feet. “Now that is all-”
“Master Sharman – about the girl. Well, I don’t think she’s … she’s … what you’re thinkin’. I reckon she’s from the Other Side. A – a…”
Sharman, who had been staring at Lawson impatiently, jumped in. “Controller? Don’t be ridiculous, Lawson. Controllers are as rare and fleeting in this world as intelligent words from you are. No, she’s not a controller.” He stood up, pulling at his beige coat. As he reached down for his newspaper, he continued, “She’s something else. Of that we can be sure.” Tucking the newspaper under his arm, he paused and stared at Lawson, his grey eyes deadly serious. “The question is, just what exactly?”
Leaves twirled on a swift gust of wind, dropping lightly to the ground in front of Sharman. He whistled a jolly tune to himself as he stepped over them, leaving Lawson sitting stunned on the bench. The hollow notes were drowned out by a gentle breeze that whispered two simple words of hope into any listening ear as softly as one to a lover.
Curse Breaker…
Yeah, I caught that.
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