Young Writers Society

They constantly try to escape
From the darkness outside and within
By dreaming of systems so perfect
that no one will need to be good.

The filthy pile of humans stirred, awakened by the stream of light illuminating their prison; their home. It was all they knew. Each day was the same, the sun rose and set, food appeared and they ate, needs were felt and relieved, then they slept and awoke to the same routine. Very rarely was there need for speech, the woman and the man being too dispirited and tired, the girl-child unknowing of this ability.

She was intensely curious however, and loved to explore the tiny space they had, each day finding something new and exciting. She’d turn, face suffused with glee and wonder, pointing and giggling. But they would not respond, faces set in a bland, emotionless mask. Only once had she evinced a response; she had gone to the forbidden corner, where the sun never reached. And there had been exciting new things and toys to play with, white sticks in a great variety of shapes that she could twist and turn and clack together! That had been a glorious day, the happiest she could remember.

But Mama hadn’t been pleased. She had yelled and shooed her away from her toys, making her sad and tearful. Then they both cried. That had been a scary day. She made sure not to go there any more, and for the most part would sit and stare at the black web that blocked the doorway. There was so much more beyond it, and she yearned to go out and play and run free. But she knew she couldn’t. It was the one thing Papa had impressed upon her; the deadliness of the Notweb. He had captured a spider – one of the only creatures that used their space – and thrown it just below the Notweb. What happened next still haunted the girl. The thing grew, expanding to the cover the doorway and the dark nub at its centre leapt out and grabbed the poor spider; its squeals were pitifully few.

She watched it almost constantly now. Carefully, she tiptoed closer. It pulsed when she neared, making her shiver with fear. She didn’t want to meet the spider that had made it. If indeed it was a spider, the only thing she could identify it with was a web and yet it was unlike any she had seen. In any case it would be a mean one, of that she was certain. And yet, the web had a frightening allure, and sometimes she found herself wanting to reach out and stroke it, caress it. Each time this happened, she’d scamper away from it, afraid and unsure. Just like now. Cuddling up to her mama’s lukewarm flesh, she snuggled in and slept, ignoring the pangs of hunger in her stomach.

********

The woman stared forward as the sun slipped downward and a rainbow hue of colours bathed the room. Naela loved it when that happened and would be disappointed at having missed it. She reached down and stroked the girl’s golden hair, tears sliding down her face. The girl didn’t even know her own name, it had been a struggle identifying themselves as ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’ and after that they had lacked the effort to try anything else. Indeed, those two simple words had become their identity.

This place, the unending years of nothing, eroded their spirits. They were the last ones. The end of humanity. There had been more of them once; some had braved the climb, finding easy footholds but never an end. They always fell, and now nothing remained but rust coloured stains in the stone. Others suffered inexplicable bouts of madness and attacked each other raving and frothing at the mouth. Some merely wasted away, losing the will to live. Always, their calls for help, and screams for mercy had been ignored.

Mama felt the pull as well, the urge to walk up to strange darkness that stretched across the doorway and fall into its dark embrace. The pain would be welcome, the death even more so. If not for Naela she would, but she feared for the girl and the predatory gleam she saw in Papa's eyes. So she endured. Currently, she was waiting for the food to appear, as it did every day, at the precise moment that night fell. She had long since stopped questioning or wandering how it was so, she simply accepted.
Turning, she regarded her companion, Papa; he was sleeping. He did little else lately, apart from stare eerily at Naela. Their nakedness was a hindrance she admitted to herself, not that it caused them any physical difficulties as the temperature always remained the same.

Looking forward once more she spotted the platter. Getting up, she walked over to the food, and then froze. Something was wrong. There was heaviness, a presence, that hadn’t been there before, questing and searching. It latched onto her mind and wrenched it open brutally. Crying out she fell to he knees, abrading them on the stone.

: Hello mortal.

A voice; old and whispered. Who was speaking to her, and from where? She looked, craning her head, searching. Had she finally gone mad?

: You are perfectly healthy, I assure you. I merely wished to speak to you.

It was in her head! Groaning, she grasped her head in her hands and rocked back and forward. She had known painfully little in her life and this was just too foreign.

: Ah, I see you are discomfited. Allow me to arrange this better to your liking.

With that, she felt an uplifting rushing sensation. Unbeknownst to her, her body crumpled to the ground as she was pelted forward. Mountains, rivers, forests – a vista of colour and majesty that she drank up like one starved. ‘It is all so beautiful’, Mama thought sadly.

In a blink it had vanished and she found herself in a wonderfully warm room. Sense reeling, she swayed, trying to get an impression of the room: oak panelled, with a roaring fire and lush, richly woven rugs covering the floor; it was the essence of luxury. The only piece of furniture was a giant bed, in which an old man lay breathing heavily. No, not a man at all, she realised, looking closer. The angles of his face were too narrow, his ear’s too pointed and the eyes, --piercing her—were slit like and golden. His head propped up against pillows, amid a heavy fall of snow white hair.

Then he spoke. “Does this suit you better?” He asked. In person, his voice lacked the power she had sensed earlier.

“Its … ah, it’s …” she stopped, perplexed. She was clothed, a simple white shift adorned her frame. It was beautiful and she loved the feel of cloth against her skin … but, how was this all possible? Mama didn’t want to even begin thinking about what was happening. Already her head hurt. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself.

“Who are you and what do you want with me?”

She saw a smile flicker on his face. “Relax child, and sit down.” He said slowly. “You have nothing to fear. Abruptly, she found herself seated, on a chair she could have sworn hadn’t existed a moment ago. “Now, as to your question. The simplest answer would be, I am the Lord and Protector of this world. The defender of primordial earth.”

“Why should this concern me? I have nothing to do with you. I don’t even know if I should be here or what they’ll –” she gasped suddenly, a terrible thought occurring to her. What if their captors noticed her absence? What would happen to Naela?

He seemed to guess what she was thinking. “You need have no fear on that account, ‘Mama’ is it?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “You see, I am that captor. I was the one who authorised the capture and subjugation of your people.”

The words came like a blow, shocking her system. Her mind reeled with questions, but one stood out. “Why?” she whispered in horror. “Why would you do this to us?”

She saw his face crease in sudden pain. His hands, trembling with palsy, raised the blanket upward to his chin, as if he wished to hide. “I had no choice!” he whispered fiercely. “I have seen what your people—your kind— will do to this world and I could not allow it.” He paused, a sudden bout of coughing shaking his frame. This, this was what had brought her proud race to its knees? It was surreal. Even now she couldn’t help but feel certain contempt. But above this, there was anger, sudden and strong.

“You can’t justify the murder of an entire race! Not even the murder of one!” she yelled. Then stopped, pausing in sudden fear. This was after all, her jailor.

“Oh my dear, please don’t be afraid. You have every right to be angry. But please, let me at least show you the why of it all. I fear simple words will not suffice.” Raising a hand, he closed his eyes and mumbled a few words. The effect was immediate and stunning; the room was ripped away and she saw the beginning of her people, proud and strong. The building of the first hut, the birthing of the first children and the start of the spoken word, these she witnessed. Then events accelerated and she saw the swift and overpowering growth of her people, and their eventual domination. And always, as time passed, the earth suffered. The skies grew polluted and dark, the forests in all their majesty withered away, and the clear waters of the seas were fouled with waste. You dreamed of systems so perfect that no one needed to be good.

She cried out, wanting it to stop. This is mere possibility you witness; what would have happened should I not have intervened. On his word the images changed. Now showing her scenes of rape over the centuries, of murder, regicide and attempted genocide. The horrors her people perpetrated against themselves was shocking in its brutality. Could she really fault the events that saw this terror stopped? You cannot escape from the darkness within, none of you could.

“Stop it” she said. The images fell away and died, to be replaced once more by the room and the man. Her face was wet, she realised suddenly. Reaching up she felt the salty discharge as it trailed down her face. Nor was he immune, for azure tears sparkled in his eyes and fell, down into the seams of his face. “What about Naela?”, she found herself asking.

“Already taken care of,” he said sadly. “Now it is time to say goodbye.”
She wasn’t surprised. She wasnt anything anymore, her strength, her character, had been leeched away while she watched. She saw her sprawled body, ashen grey in the morning light. She should've felt something, anything, but she didn't. The last thing she saw, as she passed from the world were the sprawled bodies of Naela and Papa. He had, it seemed taken advantage of her passing and tried to rape Naela, for he was sprawled on top of her body. Both were dead, eyes glassy and staring, blood pooling from their slit throats. The last she knew, were the softly spoken words.

“Forgive me.”

*****************

This didn't exactly turn out as I'd hoped it would, but at least I got the bloody thing in.

They constantly try to escape
From the darkness outside and within
By dreaming of systems so perfect
that no one will need to be good.

I like the beginning with the poem but i dont understand it. I think i get it but the last line threw me off.

The filthy pile of humanity stirred, awakened by the stream of light even now illuminating their prison; their home. It was all they knew. Each day was the same, the sun rose and set, food appeared and they ate, needs were felt and relieved, then they slept and awoke to the same routine. Very rarely was there need for speech, the woman and the man being too dispirited and tired, the girl-child unknowing of this ability.

The description was good. I thikn the red is uneeded and the red confused on first read and i had to reread it. A quick way to lose a reader.

But Mama hadn’t been pleased. She had yelled and shooed her away from her toys, making her sad and tearful. Then they had both been crying.

I would change "hadn't" to "was not". It flows better. The green part makes no sense to me. It doesn't seem to fit and the words don't match up together.

You dreamed of systems so perfect that no one needed to be good.

She cried out, wanting it to stop. This is mere possibility you witness; what would have happened should I not have intervened. On his word the images changed. Now showing her scenes of rape over the centuries, of murder, regicide and attempted genocide. The horrors her people perpetrated against themselves was shocking in its brutality. Could she really fault the events that saw this terror stopped? You cannot escape from the darkness within, none of you could.

I am assuming that the red is thoughts since there is no quotation but it threw me off a bit

“Already taken care of,” he said sadly. “Now it is time to say goodbye.”
She wasn’t surprised. Nothing could surprise her anymore. She saw her sprawled body, ashen grey in the morning light. She should've felt something, anything, but she didn't. The last thing she saw, as she passed from the world were the sprawled bodies of Naela and Papa. He had, it seemed taken advantage of her passing and tried to rape Naela, for he was sprawled on top of her body. Both were dead, eyes glassy and staring. The last she knew, were the softly spoken words.

“Forgive me.”

No offense but, wierd! This seemed unrealistic. She had only seen a few things yet she had become able to not be suprised. It's just odd. It could be from all the years in captivity but if so i think you should say so somewhere.

It's really sad actually. Someone else killing off humans to save Earth. I wouldn't doubt it happening though. Very interesting and very few mistakes. Nice work and good luck in the Duel.

Brought to you by the CCF
"You write 'em, We'll protect 'em"

OMG lol, those thoughts are meant to be in italics, hahaha, thanks for the crit adam. Oh and that poem was what the story had to be based on for the challenge, it was not actually part of it, nor is it mine.

Green = Comment/Correction
Blue = Suggestion
Black = Review

*

The filthy pile of humanity stirred, awakened by the stream of light even now illuminating their prison; their home.

Wouldn’t that be ‘humans’ rather than ‘humanity’?

Then they had both been crying.

Did you mean: Then they had both cried?

Apart from that I didn't notice anything out of place. It was weird, and the ending was creepy--especially Papa--and did Mama also die?

First of all, good luck with the entry it was definitely a good read.

I have to say, the images of the world Mama saw was very realistic but I'm not too sure I understand how the other humans died.

-- Myth

Thanks Myth for those suggestions, they were good. Hmm, I didn't really want to say how Pape and Naela died, just implied really. But I changed that; do you think that's better? Likewise for Mama, yes she died. Her spirit had been taken from her body, to meet the Protector, and the body cannot survive without the soul...

Thanks for the comment!!

You surely have a way of shaping a story! My immediate question is, will you be continuing this or is this, as you say, the end? Very depressing if so!

Your imagery was mastered. Though there was little time to explore character, you just differed the four so precisely that it worked. The plot was intriguing, as was this creator/jailor figure.

This is really a very strange place the end this, if that's what you're doing. Because you've introduced us to this "Notweb" and upon finishing the piece, I still don't know exactly what it is. But on this subject, it is very confusing as to what the Notweb looks like so when you say "it", referring to the Notweb, I had trouble seeing what you were talking about.

When you switch perspectives, your change in tone and thought is perfect.

I love the essential doom-and-gloom mood of the piece, all in all. I'm most intrigued by this god you have created. The all-powerful, not bad or good character is always my favorite.

Ah, what else can I say? That is all I really know how to say.

I hope you branch off of this somehow. It's so awkward to end here. You could easily begin with The End, you know? You seem to be treating this like poetry, cutting it off. By decapitating this, you've really decapitated your reader. (Ooh! Decapitated! Cool word.)

As always,

Miss POKE

Wow. Rave review! Woo!

Thanks a lot Rose, the idea of the Notweb and indeed the whole story comes from a picture in the Fantasy Fools usergroup.

I hadn't thought of continuing, but yeah there's definetly a lot I could do with it; I'll think about it. Thanks again.

And yes, hello Jig...this is somewhat of a critique. ^_^

You've set things up well, leading in with the verse. And the first line picks up interest with 'home/prison' contrasted. That aside, what follows feels too much like it's merely stage-setting, in structure and information. Nearly all in the past, had, could, would, had - it slows things at the beginning, rather than picking them up. And a short story suffers more with a set-up like that than a novel.

With that in mind, I don't think the slowness was what struck me in the negative. Oddly, though seguing into the child's perspective, it seemed more complex than the mother's part. Wouldn't a child's perspective tend towards the simple? I think the first whole piece of it would be much more striking if it were cut-down. It is rather dystopian, broken down - the situation is that of cruel wont. Don't say anything that isn't absolutely necassary. That chord will reflect the place, situation - you've already got atmosphere.

Then when you hit the crisis for Naela - shift to the action.

What happened next still haunted the girl. The thing had grown, expanding to the cover the doorway and the dark nub at its centre had leapt out and grabbed the poor spider; its squeals were pitifully few.

What if you take 'had' out? Switch past tenses --

What happened next still haunted the girl. The thing grew, expanding to the cover the doorway and the dark nub at its centre leapt out and grabbed the poor spider; its squeals [ came pitifully? broke pitifully? ] [s]were[/s] pitifully few.

I'm combing through rather mercilessly. But all in all, you've set a very compelling scene, Jig. It ties in well with the quote - (though, yes we know human beings can make a mess of things - what was the back story? What had gone so wrong that this is what is left?) Being a momentary thing, and under the circumstances, the characters being what they were worked well.

In the long paragraphs and sometimes-long-sentences, what seemed the bleakest weakness was some passivity. 'Had' is good - not constantly. Certain things you've repeated, or said with quite a few words indirectly.

Here...

This place, the unending years of nothing, had eroded their spirits.

Without 'had'?

Always, their calls for help, and screams for mercy had been ignored [s]and all were dead now[/s].

No need of emphasis. The reader, unless brick-wall dead-headed and dull, ought to know they're dead. ^_^''

Looking forward once more she spotted the platter. Getting up, she walked over to the food, and then froze. Something was wrong. There was heaviness, a presence, that hadn’t been there before, questing and searching. It latched onto her mind and wrenched it open brutally. Crying out she fell to he knees, abrading them on the stone.

The switch-up of sentence length is apt here - loved it. The sentence structure repeats rather noticeably. Perhaps fewer beginning in the present-progressive?

With that, she felt an uplifting rushing sensation. Unbeknownst to her, her body crumpled to the ground as she was pelted forward. Mountains, rivers, forests – a vista of colour and majesty that she drank up like one starved. ‘It is all so beautiful’, Mama thought sadly. [ paragraph here? ]In a blink it had vanished and she found herself in a wonderfully warm room. Sense reeling, she swayed, trying to get an impression of the room: oak panelled, with a roaring fire and lush, richly woven rugs covering the floor; it was the essence of luxury. The only piece of furniture was a giant bed, in which an old man lay breathing heavily. No, not a man at all, she realised, looking closer. The angles of his face were too narrow, his ear’s too pointed and the eyes, --piercing her—were slit like and golden. His head propped up against pillows, amid a heavy fall of snow white hair.

The description is vivid, neither passive nor disjointed. Perhaps a paragraph between Mama's thought and the remainder would do for clarity.

A reiteration: The insert of the quote is eerie, neatly set between the dialogue and mama's thoughts.

...And now I'm off to try to judge well between the two of you. !_!''



IMP


[courtesy of the Cabassi...unaffiliated with the Fantasy Fools]

So, ah, I take it you liked it? I think you were quite right with the constant 'had' insertion so I changed that a bit. As to the child's perspective being more complex then the woman's -- I attribute that to her curiosity and undiminished spirit. Don't forget the woman wouldnt exactly be all that more mature -- its not like they were educated or had experience in anything.

But yeah; thanks for the crit! Hahah, glad you liked the insertion of the quote.

Yes, I liked it. And the child's complexity - that makes some sense with your remark; they all seemed at the level of 'children' in one sense, Mama, Papa and Naela.

I wonder if perhaps short paragraphs for Naela would give her a lighter feel though?

That's all on that point. ^_^



IMP