So, I'm a bit of a new writer here, and I just wanted to give you guys something by me so that we could get to know each other a bit. Now, I know this isn't a very good excerpt, but I spent a while searching for a good piece of writing on my computer and since I didn't find anything, I decided to at least put something up. Basically, it's an excerpt from a book I hope to begin soon. I've got everything layed out in my head, the characters, the plot, the connections, but I still don't have an exposition! So, please comment, and give it all to me, both good and bad. Believe me, I want to hear what you guys say!
Thanks!
Warren approached the tube quickly, leaning over its domed top. The swirling glass demented his sight, but there was nothing inside to interest him anyways. He looked down to the base of it, his speed influenced by the shattering glass and combat blasting behind him.
The tube appeared to be cemented into the ship’s floor, but there
was a small yellow circle just in front of it. Before he could act, Ginger pressed her foot onto the yellow circle.
Instantly, the domed top slid open.
Warren turned to her, thanking her silently. She was breathing heavily, nervous. Seeing her with her dark hair across her cheeks, plastered by sweat, reminded him vaguely of Clara. Then again, almost everything did. Her blade was drawn, held at her side and the tip slick with fresh, warm blood.
“This appears to be a passageway,” Warren commented. He glared into the opened tube. A narrow pipe led the way into the ship’s belly.
“Blood!” Ginger shouted, “It’s blood that must clear the passageway.”
Warren thought deeply, but he did not hesitate. Quickly, he thrust out his wrists, baring them at Ginger. The solid, glowing veins of blue stretched beneath his skin like overlapping cords.
“Slice them!” He demanded of her. “Hurry.” Ginger looked up at him, her dark eyes solid and questioning.
There was no time for questions, she knew it almost as well as Warren did. There was no other way to continue.
As instructed, Ginger lifted her blade and aggressively slid the bloodied tip across Warren’s wrists. Skin tore and blood rushed to the surface almost instantly. A searing, unbelievable pain burned throughout his entire being. He shouted in agony.
Abruptly, Warren jammed his arms over the tube, allowing his blood to flow through and into the narrow pipe below. It went slowly, slipping down the smooth sides of the tube. Warren watched every bit of it flow down, burning with a stronger pain as he witnessed his own blood pass. It trickled to the pipe like a gentle stream, while up
above it plumed unstoppably. Ginger watched helplessly, almost whimpering just from watching.
Warren winced and bolted his eyes shut tightly, scrunching his face in agony. Thick veins bulged on his neck. He refused to allow his intense pain to show, but doing so was nearly impossible now.
He weakened, the quick loss of blood exacting its expected toll. Dizziness welted him and his throat dried. He felt his lips crackle and his ears rang quietly, barely audible over the battle.
For a split second, he reopened his eyes and found both sides of the tube to be almost completely washed in his blood, the red streaked and lengthy.
On the verge of collapse, he glared at Ginger. His face paled, bolding his scar.
“Get them out of here...” He began, and finally crashed onto the deck. Blood continued to well from his sliced wrists. Before turning to Warren, Ginger witnessed the blood complete its task. The tube whirred mechanically, a guttural sound from deep within the ship’s innards. Finally, the lock was lifted.
The engine of the mighty battleship revved to life beneath them all, convulsing the metallic deck. They were momentarily thrown off of balance as the ship returned to its original speed, cutting across the ocean water like a hot knife to wax. A chorus of cheers erupted around Ginger, but she did not acknowledge them.
Quickly, Ginger crouched beside Warren. She grabbed his limp wrists, glaring at the open gashes scarring them for life. Fumbling, she grabbed a white cloth from her pack and plunged it onto Warren’s wrists. The blood rushed through.
She felt hopeless, almost intent on leaving Warren here to die. She was unsure of how to proceed, or if she should. Aimlessly, her dark eyes fell upon the entity that had caused all of this: her sword.
It lay with the bronze tip facing her, speckles of blood on the deck from the blade. She cursed at it in her head, and then returned to Warren.
From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Angelo grappling with another soldier. His sword cut across the air, almost striking his opponent. In response, the solider raised his shield and brought his blade forward. Angelo thrust his body aside abruptly, avoiding the stabbing tip of the sword.
Behind her, Ginger heard the solid squeal of a sharpened blade sliding through a body and remembered that
Sam had been back there. A resounding thump sounded as a body crashed to the deck. She knew that the rest of their force was ahead of them, out on the bow defending the ship from any nearby enemies. Tuk’Waa was out there.
That was how she’d awaken Warren.
“Samuel!” She called, turning behind her. In response, Sam rushed to her side, his chest bloodied but unscathed. The steel helmet he wore almost masked his entire face, the forehead of it stained with red and slightly dented.
“Help me lift him!” Ginger scream, and pulled Warren’s arm up. Crouching, Sam shoved his arm beneath
Warren and heaved, pulling him over his shoulder. He supported the ex-General himself, surprised at how light he truly was. Ginger trailed behind as Sam lead them out to the bow. Angelo followed quietly.
“Tuk’Waa can heal him,” Sam reassured, thinking the same as Ginger.
“Yes, that is what I said.” Ginger responded, gripping her blade. Distractedly, she found herself looking
downward toward the ship’s deck, noticing droplets of blood there. They had formed from Warren’s wrists. She shuddered mildly, continuing to follow Sam out onto the bow.
At the doorway, Sam pressed the bulging shoulder muscles of his left arm onto the door; the arm that wasn’t supporting Warren over his shoulder. With surprising ease, the door slid open and exposed them to the exterior.
