Young Writers Society

He felt another boot between his ribs. It didn’t hurt as bad as the many others before it, but it was enough to make him caw with pain. This raised a chorus of laughs from the men who tormented him.

“Sing us a song, bird man,” one of them said. “Go tweet tweet, why don’t ya?”

He pushed himself up from the pavement with one hand. He looked at his tormenters. They were faceless in the driving rain, just forms with brass knuckles, steel-toed boots, and hate.

“Kiss my ass,” he said, his voice buzzing and croaking.

This earned him a kick to the face. He was knocked flat on his back, pain coursing through his beak. It hadn’t been broken, lucky him, but it was surely bruised.

“Shut the hell up,” someone said.

“You sold your soul for this, now pay the price,” another added.

He laughed at this. Staring up at the dark sky, bloodied and bruised, he found it in himself to laugh; a series of rough caws.

“What’s so funny, freak?”

“You think I want this,” he replied.

A police siren wailed and they were all bathed in light. A car door opened and closed, and soft footsteps sounded in the rain.

“Boys, what’s going on?” asked a cool voice.

“Well, Officer, we was just mindin’ our own business when this here bird man tried to jump us.”

“I doubt that, Flaherty,” the officer said.

“Does it really matter?” asked another voice.

“Well, does assault and battery matter to you, Donne?” the officer asked.

“Don’t try an’ pull that on us,” said someone else. “He ain’t human, you cain’t charge us with that.”

“Fine then,” the officer said. “But I can charge you with animal cruelty, Peastone. And when the Church of the Politician gets ahold of you for that, well, you’ll wish it was assault.”

“Don’t interfere with us officer,” said another man. “This is none of your affair. Leave in peace.”

“Oh, I thought I recognized you,” the officer said. There was the click of a gun being cocked. “You’re the Reverend Yates. You’re the man wanted for a dozen hate crimes in this state, ain’t ya?”

“You would not dare,” the Reverend said.

“I will,” the officer said. “You’re coming with me. Flaherty, Donne, Peastone, because I’m in such a good mood after grabbing this guy, you have ten minutes to get the hell out of here before I arrest you too.”

Three sets of running footsteps fell away into the rain. There was the sound of handcuffs being put on uncooperative wrists. Then a car door opened and someone was forced inside. The Reverend promised great doom for the officer because of his actions. The officer promised the Reverend no food and a cold cell, and added that he would make good on his promise. Then he shut the door.

A face appeared in the bird man’s view. It was the officer.

“You all right, fella?” the officer asked.

“I’ve been better,” came the reply.

“You got a name?”

“Saybridge.”

“Well, Mr. Saybridge,” the officer said, “You can’t be doing yourself much good lying in the gutter. How about I help you up?” He held out a hand to Saybridge.

Saybridge took the officer’s hand and was pulled to his feet. All of his new bruises and cuts screamed in pain, and he let out a pained whistle. He leaned on his left leg, the right was numb from the beating it had taken.

Saybridge took a look at his savior. The officer looked like he was getting close to veteran status. His badge stated that he was “Police Sergeant P. Connor, Second Precinct.”

“I’m sorry about this,” Saybridge said.

“About what?” Connor asked. “Needing my help?”

Saybridge nodded.

“Don’t be,” Connor said. “Listen, you need a ride to an emergency room?”

“No,” Saybridge said. The last thing he needed now was to be stared at by men in white coats. Besides nothing was broken or in need of stitches. He could fix himself up at home.

“How about home, then?” Connor asked.

“I live around the corner. 135 Glenn Road.”

Connor nodded. “I’ll be sending somebody in the morning to make sure you’re all right. And for pictures, of course.”

“Pictures?”

“I intend to add this little incident to Reverend Yates’s already prolific rap sheet.”

Saybridge tried to say something, but the officer held up his hand.

“Now, don’t go saying you don’t want to press charges. After a beating like that, you ought to want to give him some bruises of his own.”

He could do more than that. The claws on Saybridge’s hands were not just for show. They could cut through skin and muscle, right down to the bone. But Saybridge just shook his head.

“I’ll let the Church of the Politician do that,” he said. “I’m not much for violence.”

Connor nodded. “All right then.” He turned to go.

Saybridge took Connor’s arm. “Why’d you do that? Most times you guys don’t even care.”

Connor paused for a moment. “My sister’s a Horus, like you,” he said. He gave Saybridge a knowing look. “She sure as hell didn’t choose it.”

Saybridge nodded. “Well then, thank you, Officer Connor.” He turned to walk on home.

“Remember, one of my boys will be by in the morning for pictures and a statement,” Connor said.

“Right.”

“Stay safe,” Connor said. Then he got into his police cruiser. He fired it up and drove off into the night.

Now Saybridge was left to hobble home. He didn’t think that the other three would come back. They were just some idiots. The only time idiots like them were dangerous was when they got ideas. And the Reverend Yates and his ideas were gone.

Saybridge got to his front door. He pulled out his keys, unlocked it, and walked inside. The house was dark. He turned the light on. No one was there. Not that he’d been expecting anyone. And no one liked him enough to throw him a surprise party.

He shut the door behind him. Blood and dirty rainwater dripped off of him onto the linoleum. That would have to be cleaned up later. Right now, he needed to get himself cleaned up.

Saybridge limped through the kitchen, leaning on his cheap plastic table for support. He made it to the hallway. From there he stumbled into the bathroom and sat down on the side of the bathtub. The pain was still sharp. It was going to be a while before he felt himself again. Then again, he hadn’t really felt himself for ten years.

He got up and stood in front of the medicine cabinet. He saw his reflection in the mirror that was mounted on the door. His beak was bleeding and he had a gash over his left eye. Those eyes still bothered him. They were the one thing that he still couldn’t get over. His clawed fingers and toes, the scales that covered his forearms and legs, the feathers that replaced most of his hair, even his raven head and beak he could manage. But his eyes still haunted him. The way they stared back at him made him uneasy.

Saybridge opened the medicine cabinet and got out his bandages. Then he stripped down to his boxers and got to work. Each and every cut was patched up, each and every one a reminder of how the human race still had a hard time dealing with whatever the Horus Event had been. It shouldn’t be this way, Saybridge thought. His kind had been named after a god. And still, every so often, a Horus would be thrown from a building and told to fly. They couldn’t, though. They had no wings. Nature, or fate, whoever’s fault this was, was never kind.

All of his wounds were bandaged up now. They stung from being messed with, but he could get over it. Saybridge now got up and looked in the mirror. He began to wash and preen himself, trying to get rid of as much blood and gutter gunk as he could. It took a few minutes, but he got his feathers clean. They weren’t glistening; he didn’t want to mess with oiling them now. All he wanted was sleep.

So Saybridge hobbled through the house to his bedroom. He left the kitchen light on. He had picked up that habit from his mother. It was her old practice to discourage burglary. He shook his head to banish the thought of her from his mind. He was glad that she wasn’t alive anymore. She didn’t have to see her son like this.

The bed and its open covers awaited Saybridge. He brushed away last night’s loose feathers and fell on the sheets. It was good to lie down. Even his injuries stopped bothering him now. Sleep at least didn’t care what he was, didn’t care the card that had been dealt to him and a fourth of the world’s population. It welcomed all. So Saybridge closed his alien eyes and let it come.

Connnraaad.

He felt another boot between his ribs. It didn’t hurt as bad as the many others before it, but it was enough to make him caw with pain. This raised a chorus of laughs from the men who tormented him.

Starting off with a beating definitely grabs the attention. The word "caw" stands out, but I've decided I like it. It's quirky.

He laughed at this. Staring up at the dark sky, bloodied and bruised, he found it in himself to laugh; a series of rough caws.

Oh, now I get the caw. C:

A police siren wailed and they were all bathed in light. A car door opened and closed, and soft footsteps sounded in the rain.

Hm. You should mention it's raining earlier - knowing it's raining during the beating will give it different feel. You should add imagery around him that suggests that there's rain prior to this.

He leaned on his left leg, the right was numb from the beating it had taken.

Either make this two seperate sentences, an and, or a semi-colon between these two. The comma isn't cutting it - comma splice.

Man. Talk about the bird flu.

Descriptions, Setting
Your details on the people and setting around Saybridge are a little lacking. Especially in the intro, during the haze of the beating, it's mostly dialogue, action, and no descriptions. You need a lot more detail to make this fabulous - but it's really darn close to being fabulous. I love your concept here.

Bird people... Horus... very creative! And fun to read. You must, must post more.

PM me if you have questions.

~ Clo

Conrad! Hello. ^^ Sorry this is a little late.

Okay, I like this, it’s really interesting and I think you could make something longer out of this – are you already? Because that would be very interesting. The use of Horus is wonderful, I do so love connections to cultures like that, and it feels fitting. The events are good, your move through them well.

Your first line doesn’t grab me at all. I notice it, I read it, and I think “hrm... okay.” And there’s no real will to keep reading. I think you need to start with something harder, “He felt” is a soft start for a line about beating. We need something grittier. “His ribs cracked with the force of the boot. It was no harder than the other kicks, but he’d been weakened” Is an example. This gives us action straight away and then moves forward with an explanation and maybe some intrigue. This is, of course, subjective, but I think if you re-worded your first line your beginning will benefit.

Your entire story is in a passive, recount style text. This distances your reader from the actions in the story. We don’t care – I don’t care – what happens to your main character. We’re just plodding along in this melded recount – slash - present action story. I think you need to harden the words you use, use stronger words that hit out at the reader for the beating.

I think you need to work on your dialogue as well. It’s not bad at all, it suits the text and sounds all right, but I think you can do better. The initial dialogue feels rehearsed and a bit icky, and I somehow feel as though the cop shouldn’t tell Saybridge anything about his sister. That’s such a personal thing to do.

In the case of Saybridge... I don’t feel anything for him. He’s a non-event for me to the point where I’m more interested in the copper than I am the bird-man. This may just be how I relate to characters.

I agree with Clo about the description, this needs a bit more to bring that part up to level with the concept you have. Your concept being rather interesting.

In the end, I certainly like this, but it does need work.

Much luck.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.

Awesome. This should have more comments.

I don't think the first sentence is bad. The paragraph builds on it, and the first sentence isn't the hook, anyway. It's the "caw." Once I saw that my curiosity was piqued.

I dig the idea, and you get points for creativity. As a short story, though, it's rather incomplete. I would like to know more about the world in which this Horus incident took place. I'm interested in the concept, but when I can't learn anymore about it it reflects poorly on the story.

It's true that Saybridge's immediate surroundings could use just a tad more atmosphere and description. Don't overdo it, though: Your writing style is simple and light, easy to read -- which is a good thing in my book. It let's the oddity of the idea shine through -- no turgid prose to weigh down the fun.

The Reverend promised great doom for the officer because of his actions. The officer promised the Reverend no food and a cold cell, [s]and added that he would make good on his promise.[/s]

I believe the second sentence would have a greater impact if that part was removed. Snappier. Besides, of course he's going to make good on his promise. Why would he promise it if he wasn't? Doesn't really add anything.

“Well, Mr. Saybridge,” the officer said, “You ...

That "You" shouldn't be capitalized.

The section following the dialogue's end is rather dry. You might consider skipping some of the boring details like opening and closing the door. Perhaps just jump from the officer leaving to Horus being in his house.

Love the part where he "preens" himself.

"Then" and "so": Beware these words. At times your usage of them felt clumsy or unnecessary. There are often better, more natural ways to make a transition from one event to another.

Overall, I found this entertaining, and I love the idea -- I just wish you hadn't ended it without exploring the concept more. This actually strikes me as a good first chapter to a novel, or at least the beginning to a longer short story.

I'm pretty miffed more people haven't read this, though. A piece of writing that displays actual creativity -- what a concept! I'm putting a link in my sig.

Keep it up!

Prokaryote

Ohhh... very interesting. I like it a lot.

Okay, so to prevent from sounding like a broken record, I'm not going to get into those little nitpicks I have sometimes, and just crit on the overall picture.

As you can tell, I like it a lot! Very much, actually. The idea is interesting and this is creative. I had to look up "Horus" to see if it wasn't just made up. I'm a big fan of myths, so that's a plus.
There's one problem I have though (here's an example):

Connor paused for a moment. “My sister’s a Horus, like you,” he said. He gave Saybridge a knowing look. “She sure as hell didn’t choose it.”

Saybridge nodded. “Well then, thank you, Officer Connor.” He turned to walk on home.

“Remember, one of my boys will be by in the morning for pictures and a statement,” Connor said.

“Right.”

“Stay safe,” Connor said. Then he got into his police cruiser. He fired it up and drove off into the night.

Now Saybridge was left to hobble home.

Pronouns. I understand you don't want to mix up what dialogue belongs to whom, but the repetition of the names can get irritating. Pronouns are the solution. As long as you use them correctly and effectively, of course. I still gotta know who's who.

So, will there be more? *star*

This is amazing. I don't know what it is about it, but it's just really great, and most especially the 'Horus' thing. Coolbeanses.

I didn't see any grammer or spelling or blah, but I would have liked more of a sense of time and place. There isn't much description. You don't really describe the pavement or the street where it all starts, or the policemen, or Saybridge's house. As it is, I'm not sure where this is meant to be set, or exactly when. The police cars and sirens would say round about the present day, but the Horus Event seems to have happened quite a while ago. Perhaps you could mention something - a landmark or object that would make this clearer? If you described his house a bit more, then that might help.

But it was still absolutely awesome, and please PM with the link if you add any more to this.

What the?

That was my reaction at the end of the story, haha. Correct me if I'm wrong but Horus was an Egyptian God; he had a hawk or owl-like head?

I actually do not have many nitpicks. I really enjoyed the piece from start to finish but I have to say, the "caw" hooked me line and sinker. It's just such an odd choice of words to describe pain but now knowing who Saybridge is, the word makes perfect sense and fits quite well.

In fact, I thought this was so well written, I couldn't tear my eyes away from it until I read the ending, and it was crafted perfectly.

My thanks too, for critiquing, Proctor. Just repaying the favor, even though I do not have much to edit on this story. Always a lovely thing.

You seem to be fond of Science-Fiction. I read your Dandilion story a while back, and even though, I didn't comment on it, I too thought it was masterfully crafted. It's true there is a few elements in that story that would be improved but everyone already beat me to it! LOL! Still, Dandilions fits in Sci-Fi as well. You certaintly seem to have a knack for this genre. I'd stick with it since it seems to be your niche.

Thanks for the wonderful read.
Jess

Hey there, Connie dearest.

Here as requested (though, I'm sorry, very late.)

Just a few little nitpicks: Repetition. You use tormented, then tornmenters, almost consequtive sentences. The word "caw" is also used quite often, in several forms.

And here:

All of his new bruises and cuts screamed in pain, and he let out a pained whistle.

pain, pained.

Be careful with repetition, dear. You write very well, and it would be sad if something as easily fixable as repetition lowered the quality of this piece.

He shut the door behind him. Blood and dirty rainwater dripped off of him onto the linoleum. That would have to be cleaned up later. Right now, he needed to get himself cleaned up.

Maybe put "himself" in italics? I think that would add to the sentence.

And that really is all for the nitpicks. I enjoyed reading this piece, it's quite intense, and definetely written with good style. I feel for your main character.

There's just one more thing I noticed, which is that your character doesn't have so much emotion. Is he too used to being treated this way, or is there another reason for this?

Very good piece. *Gold star*

XxxDo