Young Writers Society

Prologue

“I think you should keep driving, Mr Fitzallan.” The cold voice resounded beside him, followed by the click of the passenger door.

Cars were starting to queue behind him, and the man had no choice but to continue driving when the light turned green. She noticed he was sweating as she glanced back to the road before her, mentally readying herself for battle to come. Hoping he didn’t put up a fight, she pulled her hands from her pockets and straightened out her tawny hair.

“So?” she said calmly.

“Uh.” His Adam’s apple was moving at an alarming rate and she watched as his knuckles whiten upon the steering wheel. He definitely knew who she was.

“I believe we’re nearing your house, are we not? Perhaps you should park in the garage today.” She didn’t talk pleasantly, but there were no signs of malice in her cool tones.

“I don’t understand. I promise, I-“

“You need to turn right here. Surely you know the way to your own home?” She looked at him then, sharp green eyes having been opened to a world of violence at the young age of seventeen. The man who sat beside Paige Dreyfus, went by the name of George Fitzallan. At forty years of age, he was balding and bulky with crinkles sitting at the corners of each eye. His physical structure was far the opposite of his mental composure; such a pathetic little man, Paige thought.

“I’m guessing that you know who I am,” she murmured as she pulled at the leather of her gloves.

His knuckles whitened again and he swerved around into the drive of a house, almost hitting the garage door. Paige could hear his breathing; raspy and uneven, just like his heart, she supposed. As it echoed around the car, she waited. He sat, ramrod straight in his seat, clenching onto the steering wheel and Paige thought it wrong to rush him into something of which he would never return from.

“Perhaps it’s time you opened the garage door now, George,” she remarked after five minutes of uneven breathing. Her palms were sweating behind the leather of her gloves and she wondered whether it was because of the fabric.

“I… I don’t want to. My child-“ He cut himself off as he watched her draw the gun from her bag. The metal glinted shining daggers around the car and it was then that he reached for the car door, panic surging through his veins.

“Ah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said in a sigh as she studied her reflection in the side mirror, “I’m afraid you’ll have to drive into the garage now.” Nodding towards the now open garage door, she calmly loaded the firearm.

He sank back into his seat and obediently drove the car into the garage; he was beginning to sob now, much to the distaste of Paige herself.

“I can still… I could go and see him.” The whirring of the garage doors near enough drowned out his tear-filled voice and Paige watched as the hope surged in his eyes.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, you see, our appointment was actually for yesterday.” She said this with such simplicity as she began to raise the silencer of the Magnum to his trembling temple. He moved back and Paige wondered if this was the point where he was going to fight back, but all he did was press himself up against the car door. There was that Adams apple; bobbing like a buoy out at sea. She pressed the ice cold metal to his temple and, just before he tried to reach out to her, pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed around the garage but reverberated off the door, calming after several minutes. She sat in the car, staring at the remains of his receding hairline, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
A whimper cut through the silence and Paige gasped a little, spinning around to the backseat to find a small child, about the age of five, trembling in the foot space of the seat.

Her face paled as she glanced to the lifeless body of George Fitzallan beside her, then to the child. It was too late; she couldn’t let anyone find out, he was a witness.

Loading the Magnum with her spare bullet – she never missed a shot – she took a breath and placed the metal against his forehead. She couldn’t let anyone know; she couldn’t.

Paige sat up bolt right, the bed covers bunched around her ankles, sweat soaking through her vest top. Her hair was plastered to her forehead as she glanced at the red figures of the alarm clock; 4am.

The sound of the bullets still rang in her ears; it had been a long time.

This was a nice start. At least it was refreshing. The stuff that winds up in the action/adventure forum is generally fantasy outcast pieces and poorly written teenager driven prose. This kind of story is what belongs in this forum.

Although parts of this piece were somewhat awkward, on the whole it was well written. You've got a good character, you've got excellent description, you use plenty of similes and metaphors. And you kept me hooked. Some of it was a little difficult to believe. For instance, why doesn't this guy just shove the woman out of his car and drive away when she first gets in? She wasn't armed until later in the story. Also, how is it possible Paige doesn't know a kid's in the car. Generally, kids make noise. They don't understand the conccept of sit still and shut up. Especially in a high tension situation. Kids are very attuned to subtle differences in their parents voices and the voices of others for that matter. The kid would know there was something wrong.

Your dialogue is so-so. It sounds contrived and a little hollow in places. Paige is too...transparent. Too all-business, if you know what I mean. Too smug. I think you may have done as well as you could have in this situation but consider working out the wrinkles.

Some nitty-gritty:

“I think you should keep driving, Mr Fitzallan.” The cold voice resounded beside him, followed by the click of the car door.

Cars were starting to queue behind him, and the man had no choice but to continue driving when the light turned green. She noticed he was sweating as she glanced back to the road before her,

Two things wrong here. A.) Tell us what door she got in. I imagined in the back until you mentioned she was sitting beside the driver. Also, I was under the impression this was a cab driver. Consider clarifying. B.) You change point of view here. In the first paragraph, the story is being told through the man's POV and in the second, the woman's. Stay consistant.

Mr Fitzallan, you need to turn right here.

You say "Mr. Fitzallen" in this piece enough to kill somebody. Tone it down. People don't usually adress others by their names unless they are in an argument, in the throes of passion, or whilst concluding/beginning a conversation or new topic. Fitzallen knows Paige is adressing him when she talks. He doesn't need reminding.

near enough hitting

Consider "nearly hitting". It's smoother.

The metal glinted shining daggers around the car and it was then that he reached for the car door,

Guns aren't that incandescent. They aren't prisms. The metal is usually dull and is rarely polished to your face let alone that much light. In short, guns don't glint.

Nodding towards the now open garage door, she calmly loaded the firearm.

Unless she's an idiot, the gun would've already been loaded. Besides, it would have been easy for George to jump on her while she was loading up. You don't head into battle with an empty chamber, trust me.

Anyways, a good start. I'm looking forward to more. If you like reading things similar to what you write, a large portion of my novel "Honor" is posted here. It's a shoot-em-up type story.

Ciao

-Kylan

A brilliant piece of work. It's very origional. I love the way you've managed to bring the characters to life, as well as keeping Paige a patially likeable character, despite what happens in the scene.
My only recommendation is to make it more clear at the beginning where the two main characters are in the car, and how many there are (with the exception of the child). It's just slightly confusing and means the reader has to back track a little.
Keep it up. Kudos.

Kylan--actually, the way she has the gun described it is a revolver, and probably a big Smith and Wesson, which usually have a silver finish. In short...if it has a silver finish, It'll glint. It won't cast pretty rainbows, but it'll glint.

[quote]Unless she's an idiot, the gun would've already been loaded. Besides, it would have been easy for George to jump on her while she was loading up. You don't head into battle with an empty chamber, trust me. [/u]

Unless she knows he isn't a threat. In which case her goal would be to terrify. Maybe she has a backup gun, and this one is just for the fear factor.

Personally I see little wrong with the goings on in the story.

--Hunter

Well, she specifically told us the the gun was a Magnum. So... it wouldn't have a silver finish.

In regards to Paige loading the gun: that could be the case Hunter, but if so, it would be better for her to clarify.

-Kylan

And what kind of gun, precisely, is a "Magnum?"

Magnum is not a kind of gun. It is actually a modification made to ammunition, to which weapons are then chambered. For example, 0.45 ACP is a standard size pistol ammunition, the slug being 0.45 inches in diameter. 0.45 Colt, however, is a magnum round. the casing is extended nearly half an inch longer than that of a 0.45 ACP, even though the slug remains the same size and mass. There is far more gunpowder in the "magnum" load, resulting in a faster velocity and a greater force behind the slug.

Guns are chambered for Magnum rounds--doesn't mean that Magnum is a class of pistol all on it's own. While they may be considered magnum pistols, Magnum isn't a pistol by itself. There are Smith and Wesson revolvers with silver finishes that are magnums, there are Magnum Research Desert Eagles that are magnum pistols, though they are semi-automatics, not revolvers, there are AutoMags, which are an outdated version of the Desert Eagles, which come in silver or black finishes.

In short--learn your stuff before you try to pass your ignorance as truth.

Mischief Maker--all that said, I suggest changing your use of the word Magnum to reflect an actual pistol. If you need help picking one, let me know via PM or messenger. I'm usually around. Your story is very decent so far, and I'll be looking out for other chapters, should you choose to post them.

--Hunter

Hunter: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/.475_Wildey_Magnum

I will readily admit that I don't know as much as you concerning guns. But I was just working off of the above article and the fact that there are .50 Magnum revolvers on the market. I am aware that magnum is cartridge.

I apologize for making a mistake, Hunter and Mischeif.

-Kylan

Purely for clarification's sake:



Silver finish, no?

Automags FTW.

And Edit: I stand corrected, by the way--The gun you mentioned could indeed be referred to as a Magnum, though you'd probably want to call it a Wildey, rather than a Magnum.

Thanks for the suggestions Hunter, Kylan and Kokobeans. I have to admit, it turned out to be more of a debate than a list of reviews.

I think I may get in touch with you all seperately, say PM? I want to improve this chapter before I start any others and you all seem to have a clear eye for what should and should not be in the piece. Is that okay?

I'll be in touch soon; thankyou very much for the suggestions.

Mischief x

i really liked how this got your attention right from the start. the discriptions were vivid and allowed for a mental image. except for a few grammar errors. this was awesome. i enjoyed also how it was different then most here. and well written. i look forward to reading more of it.
ps. i like how she loaded the gun in front of him, it showed his cowardness and inablility to react.
awesome job.

kimi

Heya! Have I seen you around the site before? If not, my name is Saint and I shall be your critiquer today!

“So?” She said, calmly.

The S in "she" should be lowercase and the comma after "said" is unnecessary.

she watched as his knuckles whitened upon the steering wheel.

SHould be "as his knuckles whiten." You'd be right if it wasn't for the first clause there.

man sat beside Paige Dreyfus, went by the name of George Fitzallan.

The man who*

“I’m guessing that you know who I am.” She murmured as she pulled at the leather of her gloves.

Comma instead of a period after the dialogue, and decapitalise "she."

When you have speech tags that are directly related to the dialogue like this, it's a comma unless it's a question or exclamation, but the first word is never capitalised. Unless it's a name.

near enough hitting the garage door.

Let's trim a little fat here and change "near enough" to almost.

“Perhaps it’s time you opened the garage door now, George” She remarked after five minutes of uneven breathing.

Typo! Put a comma at the end of the dialogue.

Holy crap. Interesting. O_O

This is a well-written story. The action is good, there's the right balance of action and emotion. THis is good. I'm going to have to go and read more. And you're going to have to PM me when you post more.

-Saint Razorblade
The Official YWS Pirate

Now that's a prolouge!
You added a lot of mystery to it and didn't reveal who Mrs. Paige is...or what she doe's. But you showed her as a cold blooded killer and almost as if she could be redeemed.
The only thing I could say is the fact that she can read body language and yet not figure out that no one listen's to the five year old! It really didn't make much sense.
But besides that... I really think this will be a very good story, so send me a message when you get the story done.
10/10!

Hey there, just a few small suggestions first -

She noticed he was sweating as she glanced back to the road before her, mentally readying herself for the battle to come.

His Adam’s apple was moving at an alarming rate and she watched [s]as[/s] his knuckles whiten [Not the best choice of word. Maybe '...she watched his knuckles pale against the steering wheel.' would be smoother?] upon the steering wheel.

He sat, ramrod [I've not heard this expression before so I can't really comment but it feels a touch out of place] straight in his seat, clenching onto the steering wheel and Paige thought it wrong to rush him into something of which he would never return from.

Paige sat [s]up bolt right[/s] bolt upright, the bed covers bunched around her ankles, sweat soaking through her vest top.

__________________________
I think this is very well written. The atmosphere is good, there's a sense of mystery about it and even the whole waking up in bed at the end of the prologue scenario didn't feel too cliche. It was good. The description is sufficient and well detailed, the plot is interesting, the characters re believable and well defined and it's an excellent start.

I don't really have any suggestions for its improvement beyond the small ones I noted above. Sometimes the natural tone of your persona does feel a little strained, particularly where you use those colloquial expressions but it's not strong enough to be anything to worry about or change really. Good work. Sorry I couldn't help much,

Heather xx

Well, I am here late and so most of the nitpicking has been pointed out already and all the of the debates had ended. Phooey...

Anyway, I must agree that I thought she was in the back seat until you said specifically otherwise. The way you write about how he hears the door close, rather than sees her sit next to him implies that she is out of his line of sight, i.e. behind him somewhere.

Also, I must agree that little kids are generally not quiet in high stress situations. However, this really isn't coming across as what would be considered a high-stress situation. Paige is very calm and Mr. Fitzallan is pretty quiet. And it's four in the morning, so maybe the kid is asleep? I suppose the point of this whole thing is: what is the kid doing in the car at that time of the morning in the first place, and how did he get into the floor area of the car? (As a side note, I didn't pick up on that it was a boy until almost at the end. For some reason, I assumed it was a girl. My suggestion would be to go in and specify what gender the kid is earlier.) Also, I would think that Paige, despite the fact that she knows Fitzallan is a moronic coward, she would check out the car for danger, perhaps surreptitiously, before acting so cocky. I mean, wouldn't it be funny if the kid was actually a little person hit man who Fitzallan hired for his own protection in anticipation of this event?

Anyway, very nice prologue. I am hooked and have been drawn in. Must... read... more...

~GryphonFledgling

This is a nice prologue

I like the way you describe the man, with the adam's apple, and how he didn't fight back. It's some good descriptive writing!

The little boy aww that made me kind of sad.

I assumed that she was in the back seat, it sounded like that. Also, that the boy was in the house and that the father wanted to see him again, and was relatively shocked to find the child was hiding in the back seat!!

That was well done, nice suspense

XxxDo