Young Writers Society

Home » Read / Write » Short Stories » Fantasy Short Stories

Tainted Love



User avatar
204 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 15914
Reviews: 204
Thu Dec 29, 2011 9:14 pm
crescent says...



I've done a rewrite of this piece with (hopefully) increased characterization and clarity. Here's the url:http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/viewtopic.php?f=16&t=92321
Spoiler! :
This is for a contest on figment. Reviews would deeply be appreciated.

I didn’t go to the doctor’s when he bit me. Perhaps I would have noticed the way his mouth dripped with foamy, white saliva as he kissed the nape of my neck more savagely then he’d ever done so before, until blood was drawn. Even then, I didn’t stop him as he made bites all over the surface of my skin. This was what I wanted after all, to be like him, to stay with him for all of eternity. And the crimson drops of my blood sealed it.

“I’ll always love you, Dexter,” I told him, as I began to lose consciousness, the toxins in his saliva taking hold of the walls of my arteries. I was deliriously happy. I was going to cheat death, but in my slumber I could only envision a hooded figure with gnarled claws raking across my flesh, blood gurgling from lines they drew.

“Till dawn rises and I burn to ash,” Dexter’s voice echoed, reverberating inside my head, “Till you’re nothing but ashes at dawn.”
The words stung, and I couldn’t do anything but watch the destruction of my body. My screams were soundless, and as I thrashed, my fingers caught the helm of his hood, and I saw who my tormenter was: Dexter.

I was feverish when I awoke, so warm. He had filled every inch of my body with the warmth of his love. I smiled at the thought. I was going to cheat death, like he’d told me that night we sat overlooking the city. I didn’t pop a motrin into my mouth until fifteen minutes later, while I was taking a shower. I felt like crap, the water was too hot and everything felt a bit odd.

The pain came a few days later, my body hurt so much as if a million scorched the surface of my skin. Pain. Dexter said there would be pain with the transformation, and I forced a smile at the reflection in the mirror.
As the days dragged on, I couldn’t help but be excited; after all, I’d wanted this from the moment I was certain I was thoroughly in love with Dexter. And when the thirst came, I was certain the transformation had almost finished. Water could no longer quench my first. It burned as the droplets trickled down my throat. Dexter would be able to visit me again once my canines became two razor blades. He’d help me learn how to murder, or if I preferred, to rob blood banks. He’d end this melancholy I experienced from his lack of presence in less than a month.

Perhaps it was when I started to see visions of the hooded figure when I knew something wasn’t quite right, when life became blurry and surreal and I threw the china vase my mother gave me onto the floor and it fractured into a million pieces.

The insanity ended and left me with nothing but blackness. I could hear voices, hushed and a siren blaring, a police siren. My mouth foamed. “Rabies,” a voice whispered.

Spoiler! :
If you liked this, please *heart* it on figment. The contests on figment are judged by the number of "hearts" a work gets.http://figment.com/books/204691-Tainted-Love
Last edited by crescent on Wed Jan 04, 2012 9:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Please take care to use good grammar when making a post!

"grammer" 1519 matches on YWS *twitches*

Rydia is the ruler of the world. :(
  





User avatar
107 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 9326
Reviews: 107
Thu Dec 29, 2011 11:20 pm
Cadi says...



Hi Crescent,

So, some hours after I opened this tab from chat, I finally got un-distracted enough to read it - and I'm really glad I did! This is a brilliant take on vampires, from an angle that doesn't get thought about much. It's very short, but that's just made the brilliance even more concentrated.

There's only one thing that bothered me when I read through, and that was the bit about Dexter coming back in a month. Is there a reason for his long absence? Had he told her the absence is part of the transformation? I just felt this wasn't quite clear.

Apart from that, though, I love it! Keep it up!
"The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Nor does any writer. The only real answer is to drink way too much coffee and buy yourself a desk that doesn't collapse when you beat your head against it." --Douglas Adams
  





User avatar
64 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 3899
Reviews: 64
Tue Jan 03, 2012 3:22 am
CelticaNoir says...



Crescent...

At first I thought it was a vampire story, but then I realized it was too...canine to be vampiric. ;D In the end, I'm forced to wonder whether the girl was insane from the first, and thinking of her family dog...or whether it was a werewolf that bit her instead. However, judging from the bit about the full moon, I'd say it was the latter. A bit confusing, but I believe it adds to the story's atmosphere in its own way.

Keep up the good work. :3

Celtica.
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world's food and clothes.
I am the audience that witnesses history.
- Carl Sandburg, I am the People, the Mob
  





User avatar
488 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 17876
Reviews: 488
Wed Jan 04, 2012 9:44 am
Lavvie says...



Hi there crescent!

So I was along the same wave-length as CelticaNoir when I began reading this - I thought it was another vampire thing. However, it was dog/werewolf(?). It's still not an entirely original idea, but then I don't know what the platform was for the contest you entered. Either way, I'm going to be honest and say that I wasn't too crazy about this short story.

First off, the protagonist bores me and she seems like another hopeless Bella Swan character - no offense. Your protagonist, from what I gathered, is unconditionally in love with the canine-beast and she shows no limits as shown by her allowance of her eagerness to become one of them. That's another Twilight-ism I spotted: your protagonist's willingness to become one of the canine-beasts (I'm calling it this since I'm not sure what type of canine exactly).

And so I urge you to strive for some more originality. In various different ways, maybe try and show us more who your protagonist is. Does she have a nice? Is she, overall, a nice person? Or a mean one? Where does she live and/or come from? What are some traits to her personality? Please don't give me weak and uncoordinated. I want some depth to your characters besides obsessive and irresponsible lust (I don't see it as love since, by your descriptions, it seems more lustful that loving).

Since the whole being bitten part seems to be more prominent thing in this short story, you might want to spend more time about her changing into whatever she's changing into. Don't be exceedingly gruesome but then don't be vague either. It's your call to what is and what isn't. Your call for where the line is drawn. How is this changing different than a typical Meyer-vampire's? I didn't see it, but you're lacking in some descriptions as well.

Overall, I see it does possess some potential. It's kind of interesting, the whole canine biting thing, but I want it to shine out from all the other novels that bite (haha!). If you have any questions about this review, please don't hesitate to shoot me a PM. :D

Yours,
Lavvie


What is to give light must endure burning. – Viktor Frankl
  





Random avatar


Gender: None specified
Points: 1070
Reviews: 1
Fri Jan 06, 2012 5:56 pm
greekfreak101 says...



Hello!

I have never enjoyed vampire stories, but I have to say I liked this a lot! It was refreshing to read a story about vampires that wasn't so.... bland for lack of a better word. You're very talented :D .
  








Don't aim at success--the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one's dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself.
— Viktor E. Frankl