Young Writers Society

Jak Conwee gritted his teeth as another shell fell above the bunker, blinking manically to get the thick dust out of his eyes. For three and a half days, the Sergeant and his squad had endured the bombardment-half the squad had been rendered useless from shell shock.
They had been told the war would be a quick one-as soon as the Allied Strike Force reached Mars, the Martian rebels were supposed to be crushed in a few weeks.
Jak knew that would not be the case. No war fought across an entire planet had ever been resolved so quickly. And this war was more than that-if the Strike Force failed, Jak knew, then the war would end up being fought across the Solar System.

Bizarrely, it was such thoughts that kept Jak sane, for it distracted him from the continuous barrage above. So he was not surprised that he wasn't the first to notice when the bombardment stopped. The squad was looking upwards, wearily, as though it would fall down at any moment. Jak gulped, the silence could mean only two things-salvation, or near certain death. Surrender was not an option.

Fillop and Mark, the corporals, stood by the door, nervously going over their equipment, testing their guns one last time on the floor. Fillop had been Jak's friend since childhood, and they had gotten along well with Mark. When Jak lost command of the squad, he could rely on Fillop and Mark to restore his authority.
Olliva, who had lost it on the first day in the bunker and had to be tied to the only piece of furniture in the bunker, a wooden chair, to prevent him from running up the stairs into the bombardment, started crying. Jak didn't know why-none of Olliva's actions seemed to make sense any more.
Private Alliston. Jorj Alliston. A psychopath who had served twenty years for murdering his entire family, apparently for pleasure. He simply leaned against the wall and continued to polish his knife, his lip curling slightly. Jak didn't like him. He didn't want to think about why he had been accepted into the army-was this what the Strike Force had been driven to? But Jak couldn't deny that Jorj was an excellent fighter. The best. A terrible soldier, but when it came to killing the enemy, Jorj was unbeaten.
Sitting in the corner were Rojjar and Ben. Jak wasn't sure what they were doing there-even before they landed, they were nervous wrecks. Surprisingly, they hadn't gone over the edge. Somehow, they had coped better than all the other squad members. Perhaps they were the only ones who really knew what horrors war really held. Or perhaps they were just victims of a different kind of insanity.

Private Louk Harrison, one of the more psychologically sound and popular soldiers, stared at Jak, tapping on the helmet slung on his waist.

"Go check it out, Private."

Louk smiled nervously and nodded. He limped towards the door and placed his finger on the scan lock, looking back and nodding at each of the Squad mates. Even Jorj and Olliva solemnly nodded back. Somehow, Jak knew he would never see Louk alive again.
Jak bit his lip. He liked Louk. He wished he had sent Jorj, or even Olliva, but he couldn't risk it. They would probably fight anyone they came across-Olliva would jump to irrational conclusions, and Jorj would simply use it as an excuse to satisfy his desires.
But someone had to go up at some point. And Louk was the only man fit and unimportant enough for the job.

The squad waited nervously, listening intently, stiffly aiming their guns at the open door. It seemed like an age before they heard anything, and when they did, they wished it was an age. At first they just heard gunfire, and Fillop and Mark made for the stairs beyond the door, but Jak stopped them. He needed them alive. The shooting continued for twenty seconds, before the sinister "whoosh" of a flamethrower could be heard, swiftly followed by a piercing scream. Jak shuddered, trying desperately not to think about Louk's fate. But the image of Louk's handsome Human body being reduced to a grotesque parody of a Human continued to repeat itself, going over and over, accompanied by the screams. Over, and over, and over, neverending. Jak could feel the flames. For a moment, they consumed him, as if there was nothing else to feel. At first Jak wondered if he had died and this was Hell, or purgatory, his sins being cleansed just as the life in Louk's body had been cleansed.

Then he suddenly snapped back to reality. If the enemy were close enough to kill Louk with a flamethrower, that door would need to be shut.

Jak nodded at Mark, who shut the door and bolted it. Then Jak buried his head in his hands. He felt the flames once again, consuming him. He knew it wasn't real, but they felt so real, too real. Like they were even more real than real flames.
Was this insanity? Had Jak finally broken?

"No..."

Jak couldn't bear it. He couldn't accept that he had been driven into the same state as Olliva or Jorj. Even Rojjar and Ben. Mark, wiping away a tear, patted Jak lightly on the shoulder.

"It's okay Jak. He died a noble death."

At that, Jak looked at Mark, his teeth bared.

"Never...never, ever, say that again. Leave me alone."

Mark stared at Jak for a few seconds, before nodding and stepping back to the door.

Jak slid down the wall. He wanted it to end. He didn't care how. He just wanted the burning to stop. But he couldn't help thinking about his responsibility-he couldn't allow the squad to die. Their safety was his duty.
So why did Louk have to die?
Finally, Jak couldn't take it any longer. He imagined a line. On one side, the tyrants ruled the sane, with all their rules, so many rules, no care for the feelings of their people. On the other, the insane lived, living their carefree lives in bliss. Jak stood up, and took a step forward-he had crossed the line.
Jak then collapsed, writhing on the floor, giggling and dribbling. He clawed at his face until he drew blood. None of it mattered any more-he was free. And he didn't feel much like living any more.

The squad stood and watched. Those who had not already been reduced to such a nervous wreck knew that their time would come soon. It was only when Jak aimed his pistol at his head that Mark knocked him unconscious.

"Had to be done." Mark said, chuckling lightly.

Olliva went into hysterics at that moment. There was no clear reason why-perhaps he assumed that Mark's mildly humourous joke was in fact hilarious. Perhaps he found Jak's craziness funny. Perhaps he found Jak's descent into craziness comforting.
Whatever the case, Jorj responded by shooting Olliva multiple times in the lower torso.

"Take that, private!" Jorj cackled, partly at his own joke, partly at the interesting colour formed by the mixture of fluids pouring out of Olliva's spasming corpse and legs.

Mark went to restrain Jorj, but was not quick enough-Jorj, a master of contemporary martial arts, kicked Mark twice in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious. Jorj then drew his knife and dissected Mark's lungs, as much with his hand and mouth as with his knife, his eyes wide in the ecstasy of his primitive pleasures. Mark was well and truly dead before he hit the floor.

Fillop, Rojjar and Ben stepped back as Jorj grinned manically at them. They were the last half sane people in the bunker, and they knew that, even together, they were no match for the psychopath.

"What's wrong?" Jorj inquired, suddenly very serious, "You don't think I want to kill you, do you? I want to get out alive too you know!"

Jorj's lips curled, and he stared at Fillop, licking the blood from his knife.

"I'm sorry," he said, "He was your friend, wasn't he? Well, I'll be your friend now. I'll be all your friends. But you all need to obey me-I'm the leader now."

Jorj sheathed his knife and untied Olliva's bonds, ripping off the loosened legs and playfully throwing them at Rojjar and Ben. He then put Jak in Olliva's position, and tied him to the chair. He took a step back and observed the unconscious Sergant, unaware of his horrified comrades cowering against the wall. He began to turn, but then looked back again, frowning, scratching the back of his neck, as though he had finished a piece of art but felt it was missing something.
Finally, as what appeared to be a kind afterthought, Jorj laid Olliva's body on Jak, wrapping the corpse's arms around Jak's neck to keep it from sliding off.

Jorj laughed manically, and abruptly stopped. He turned, eyeing each of the three relatively sane soldiers for a painfully long second. His insane, grinning face settled into a solemn image of acceptance.

"Now, we fight. If we must die, let it be on the battlefield, and we will be known forever more as heroes, and the last stand of the great Jorj, Fillop, Rojjar and Ben. Onward!"

Jorj marched towards the door, holding his rifle with a singe, outstretched arm, like a sword. After unlocking the door, he stared at the still cowering soldiers in disappointment.

"Cowards!" He spat, "If you seek redemption, you will follow, and you will kill the Martians! Think about what they have done to us! We gave them food, and what do they give back? Hmm?"

Jorj swivelled his head, eyeing each of the soldiers individually.

"NOTHING!" Jorj bellowed, his voice so loud a dormant migrane in Ben's head suddenly awoke.

"And that's not all!" Jorj said, melodramatically waving his finger at the ceiling, "They took away our freedom! They no longer needed our food. They could make their own. And that's what caused it, gentlemen. That's what caused the people of Earth to fall, and that is why we must smite them. We shall avenge ourselves! Now, get up!"

Fillop and Rojjar stood up, and relucantly stepped towards the door. Jorj snarled at Ben, and threw his knife at Ben, the long hilt slowly sinking through Ben's eye. Fillop and Rojjar had an uncomfortable feeling that Jorj had actually calculated how to cause such a horrifying death. Rojjar turned away, not wishing to witness the gruesome death of his only friend. As he did so, he noticed Jorj' expression change as Ben's screams slowly changed into a soft whimpering, then a gurgle, and then nothing.

It was worse than any vision of a dying man. Jorj expressed every feeling of pleasure known to Rojjar as he watched and hear Ben's suffering, becoming more intense as the hilt of the knife slowly sank into Ben's brain. It was when Ben began to gurgle, frothing at the mouth, that Jorj came to the climax of his inhuman bliss. That was when the hilt had reached Ben's brain-not killing Ben, but causing him to truly experience his death, as he lost something, and knew that his brain was being destroyed. Jorj groaned as Ben finally stopped altogether, thin threads of spit rolling down the corner of his mouth onto the floor.

"Just a minute."

Jorj retrieved his knife and laid Ben's corpse on top of Jak and Olliva before running up the stairs, singing an inspirational war hymn and shooting his gun into the air.

Rojjar looked at Fillop for five seconds, shaking, before hearing Jorj screeching.

"Are you coming or what?!"

Rojjar closed his eyes, and stepped through the door.

As soon as Rojjar followed Jorj, Fillop slammed the door shut, cutting Jak's bonds and knocking him and the corpses off. There was no way he was going to follow that nutcase, if he could help it. He heard Jorj roaring, rushing down the stairs.
Rojjar opened the door.

"Don't leave me alone with him! Don't...don't!"

Fillop pushed Rojjar out and jarred the door with the chair. By the sound of it, he had done so just in time to prevent Jorj from barging in. Something crashed on the door, denting it several times, accompanied by Rojjar's cries for help. Fillop had a horrible feeling that Jorj considered Rojjar to be the closest thing to a battering ram available. After a minute or so, the crashing stopped, followed by heavy, angry growling.
Rojjar then shrieked. Fillop would later find out that Jorj had severed Rojjar's hand, perhaps in anger, probably as punishment for not keeping the door open long enough for Jorj to kill Fillop.

The shrieking went on for a while, before being replaced by a soft whimper. Fillop suddenly realised the whimpering had come from behind him.


Fillop turned to see Jak staring wide-eyed at the corpses that littered the bunker. Jak looked at Fillop, his lip wobbling.

"What...w-what...h-happened?"

"Crazy Jorj showed just how crazy he really is." Fillop said quietly.

The two embraced, both crying. Partly out of relief, partly out of sadness, overwhelmed by the sudden death of their friends and comrades. The sound of battle began above-Jorj, and possibly Rojjar, were facing overwhelming odds. They seperated from their embrace, both collapsing onto the floor, laughing slightly. Somehow, the fact that it was just the two of them now made them feel like they had an excuse not to fight-that, one way or another, the fighting for them was over.
They listened in silence to the fighting. Much of it was simply a continuous mixture of gunshots, bursts of flame, explosions, the low pitched squeal of Martian planes, and the distant tremble of the enemy tanks. But somewhere in the messy mixture, Jak and Fillop heard what they, somehow, knew was Jorj dual wielding his semi-auto and pistol, no doubt killing at least one Martian with every pull of the trigger.
Despite the horrors of that day, most the works of Jorj's insanity, Jak and Fillop half-heartidly cheered Jorj on. Whenever they heard something that sounded vaguely like a scream or an exploding vehicle, Jak would laugh and comment on who Jorj had avenged with that kill.
The fighting lasted a furious five minutes. Jorj was said to be a one man army, capable of taking on any number of enemies in any shape or form and winning. If that was the case, today clearly wasn't his lucky day, as the Martian rebels eventually ended Jorj's last stand. There were no screams, other than those too distant to be Jorj. Even Rojjar did not scream. But when it went silent above, Jak and Fillop knew who had won. Jorj would have been much noisier as he did his victory celebrations.

Jak and Fillop gave a sigh of relief as they heard soldiers outside, "open this door and surrender!". The two survivors of the disastrous invasion willingly allowed themselves to be arrested by the Martian rebels, uncaring of whether they would be imprisoned or executed-anything was better than this war.

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What do you think? Please give honest reviews-this is intended to be the prologue of a story, which will be written through the perspectives of several characters, including civilians and soldiers of both sides. I also intend to explain the actual reason for the fighting later on in the story, in case you are like me and would be most bothered about why they are fighting.
Also, if you think this is worthy of being an "R" (I assume that is the equivalent of an "18"?) please say, I just decided to make it a 13 because I myself am not 18. I guess it would probably be a 15 if it were a film.

Anyways, I shall repeat for emphasis-please give honest reviews. Thanks!

Jak Conwee gritted his teeth as another shell fell above the bunker, blinking manically to get the thick dust out of his eyes. For three and a half days, the Sergeant and his squad had endured the bombardment-half the squad had been rendered useless from shell shock.
They had been told the war would be a quick one-as soon as the Allied Strike Force reached Mars, the Martians were supposed to be crushed in a few weeks.
Jak knew that would not be the case. No war fought across an entire planet had ever been resolved so quickly. And this war was more than that-if the Strike Force failed, Jak knew, then the war would end up being fought across the Solar System.

I like your lead-in--you draw the reader in without giving away too much. An action-packed war scene is certainly a great way to hook a reader, and now I'm curious as to why this war is being fought...although I'm a bit leery about the idea of Martians. I don't know why, it just smacks of being overly cliched and vaguely unrealistic (because we know there's no life on Mars, at least not above a microbial level). But I'll see what you've got in mind before I judge.

Bizarrely, it was such thoughts that kept Jak sane, for it distracted him from the continuous barrage above.

Excellent depiction of a soldier's thought process. I don't like war fiction (check the quote in my sig as to why), but I do like stories dealing with the psychological impact of war on people. The Red Badge of Courage really stands out in my mind.

Private Louk Harrison, one of the more psychologically sound troopers in Jak's squad, stared at Jak, tapping on the helmet slung on his waist.

The "psychologically sound" part just made me grin. Again, I like how this connects to the psychological impact of war on people.

Somehow, Jak knew he would never see Louk alive again.

Wow...that's just a terrible thought. I would like some elaboration on it. Like, what is running through Jak's head as he sends Louk to his death? Does he feel guilty? Why didn't he stop Louk?

The squad waited nervously, listening intently, stiffly aiming their guns at the open door. It seemed like an age before they heard anything, and when they did, they wish it was an age.

Minor typo; that "wish" should be a "wished".

Jak shuddered, trying desperately not to think about Louk's fate.

Again, I'd like a bit more on this.

Then all was silent. Jak nodded at Mark, who shut the door and bolted it. Jak simply stared at nothing, thin air, before collapsing onto the floor. He had broken. Whimpering, he rolled around, crazily, clawing at his own face until he drew blood.
The squad simply stood and watched. Those who had not already been reduced to such a nervous wreck knew that their time would come soon. It was only when Jak aimed his pistol at his head that Mark knocked him unconscious.

Whoa! That was--that was really sudden, and not in an entirely good way. I absolutely did not see that coming, and I think this connects with what I've said previously: shed more insight into Jak's pyschological condition. I was enjoying this very much up until here, the suddenness of it all made it feel jarring. You should probably draw this out, and deal more with Jak's own mental state before his breakdown.

Olliva went into hysterics at that moment. He had lost it on the first day, and by the second he had to be permanently restrained-effectively taking away the only piece of furniture in the bunker. Jorj Aliston, a murderer who had served twenty years for killing his entire family, shot Olliva multiple times in the lower torso.

No no-no-no-nononononono! Too fast, too fast, I want to clutch my head and go into hysterics, you're going too fast, please slow down!

Sorry, that was a bit theatric, but really. I don't even know who these characters are and suddenly they're going bonkers all over the place. You probably should have introduced them earlier, during the barrage, because to see them pop out of nowhere and go to pieces is a bit too much for the poor reader. Not to mention, the reader then has no emotional connection to the characters. The hell, I don't care about a random guy called Olliva who only just shows up and then goes insane. I need to know more about him, to really feel something at his mental breakdown.

"Take that, private!" Jorj cackled, partly at his own joke, partly at the interesting colour formed by the mixture of fluids pouring out of Olliva's spasming corpse and legs.

Eww. Also, I want to know how I guy like Jorj got in the army in the first place, if he's a known murderer.

Mark went to restrain Jorj, but was not quick enough-Jorj, master of contemporary martial arts, kicked Mark twice in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious. Jorj then drew his knife and dissected Mark's lungs before his body reached the floor.

Again, could do with more description. Describe Jorj dissecting Mark's lungs, as disgusting as that might be. I liked that piece of description of Olliva's fluids in the previous paragraph, because you could really get a mental image of what was going on. Not so much here. This paragraph needs a bit more description...

"I'm sorry," he said, "He was your friend, wasn't he? Well, I'll be your friend now. I'll be all your friends. But you all need to obey me-I'm the leader now."

Wow, Jorj is nasty. Reminds me almost of the Joker in The Dark Knight (excellent movie!).

Jorj sheathed his knife and untied Olliva's bonds, knocking off his body and throwing the legs at Rojjar and Ben playfully. He then put Jak in Olliva's position, and tied him to the chair. He took a step back and observed the unconscious Sergant, unaware of his horrified comrades cowering against the wall. As what appeared to be a kind afterthought, Jorj laid Olliva's body on Jak, wrapping the corpse's arms around Jak's neck to keep it from sliding off.

Again, needs a bit more description. And since when was Olliva tied up...?

"Now, we fight. If we must die, let it be on the battlefield, and we will be known forever more as heroes, and the last stand of the great Jorj, Fillop, Rojjar and Ben. Onward!"

I really do like your characterization of Jorj--he truly IS insane, you can tell. That man is flippin' crazy, but I'm still bothered about how he just suddenly popped outta nowhere.

Jorj marched towards the door, holding his rifle with a singe, outstretched arm, like a sword.

Nice simile.

"Cowards!" He spat, "If ye seek redemption, you will follow, and you will kill the Martians!"

Insane! Now I wonder--was it the war that made Jorj go to pieces? You could have a very powerful piece of writing here if your story focused on the psychological effects of war on people. But why'd he say "ye"?

Jorj retrieved his knife and laid Ben's corpse on top of Jak and Olliva, before ascending the stairs.

Jorj killing Ben needs more description. I know it makes me sound like a hideous person, saying that you should describe gruesome murder scenes in more detail--but we need to really FEEL Jorj's complete and utter insanity. And in order to do that, like it or not, we need to KNOW just how crazy it is, just how far he's willing to go. And that includes the depraved ways he kills people.

As soon as Rojjar followed Jorj, Fillop slammed the door shut, cutting Jak's bonds and knocking him and the corpses off, before wedging the chair agains the door. He nearly didn't make it, as Jorj rushed down the stairs to kill the coward. Fillop could hear Rojjar screeching as Jorj cut off his hand in anger, before dragging him up the stairs. The screeching died down into a soft whimpering. Then Fillop realised that the whimpering was in fact coming from Jak.

Again...a little more description is necessary...you could probably stretch this into several paragraphs.

"Crazy Jorj showed just how crazy he really is." Fillop said quietly.

Ha HA! Excellent line--it's got a Vonnegutian level of "what the hell I don't care I'm too damaged anymore I can only laugh" (or is it Heller...?) Perfect depiction of a soldier who's been so numbed and desensitized by the horrific things that have happened to him that he can only turn to cracking dry jokes. Beautiful.

The two embraced as they listened to the fighting above. They had no doubt that Rojjar had been put out of action, probably killed, but, equally, they knew that Jorj would never stop fighting until he was truly killed, for no amount of pain could debilitate him, and, insane as he was, he did not lack cunning, and could probably stay alive against whatever force was advancing upon him for days. Luckily, something wasn't going right for Jorj, and he clearly died after a long five minutes of furious battle.

Again...please, more description is necessary. Again, you could stretch this into several paragraphs. Have the soldiers wait in tension for the sound of Jorj's death, describe their embrace in more detail...that sort of thing.

Jak and Fillop gave a sigh of relief as they heard soldiers outside, "open this door and surrender!". The two survivors of the disastrous invasion willingly allowed themselves to be arrested by the Martian rebels, uncaring of whether they would be imprisoned or executed-anything was better than this war.

Oh-h-h! So the Martians are rebels! Thank you, that makes a lot of sense now.

I really love that last sentence, it conveys everything that the soldiers feel about the war perfectly, and in an entirely non-tacky way.

Overall, you have some brilliant ideas here, particularly concerning the psychologically damaging effects war has on people. You seem to be quite in tune to people's mental states and situations, and Jorj was just wonderfully executed (his death, however, was rather anticlimactic).

And that is my major issue with this--you need to describe more. Show, don't tell, because right now, you're basically just telling everything that has happened. I'd suggest adding more about the characters like Fillop and Olliva and so on in the beginning, so the reader can have a more emotional attachement to them and really FEEL it when the horrible things happen. Also, you need to flesh out the parts where Jorj does horrific things--as terrible as they are, they are truly needed to show just how depraved and insane the man is.

All in all, good ideas and I can see this going somewhere, but you need to switch from telling to showing, and add more description overall, because I wasn't able to fully immerse myself in this piece, as much as I'd love to, due to the lack of description. Also, you might want to try reading the works of Kurt Vonnegut (my absolute favorite writer ever), particularly his (posthumously published) anthology "Armageddon in Retrospect" and his WWII novel "Slaughterhouse-Five", because both provide EXCELLENT examples of what war does psychologically to soldiers. You may also want to try out Joseph Heller's "Catch-22" as it touches on similar themes.

Thank you very much for your review.

Having re-read the story, I can see what you mean about detail and "showing rather than telling". I think I didn't spend enough time on it-I'll go over it again a couple of times and add in some details (I'll probably end up making it twice, thrice or ten times as long). And thanks for noticing the typo-I tend to type really fast, so even after checking for errors for the second time I probably found an error in every sentence!

And yes, sorry if my undetailed description of the Martians at the beginning led you to thinking they were the cliched alien types-they are in fact a collection of rebellious colonies, but there's more to it than that.

The fact that psychopaths are in the army is supposed to show that the world has changed, and not necessarily for the better. I would also like to take this as an opportunity to hint that the armies that make up the Allied Strike Force might not be the kind of armies that fight wars today. Well, they do, and their becoming more popular. All shall be revealed soon, and hopefully in detail .

I was hoping for Jak's descent into craziness to be very sudden, but then I suppose it would be best if it were expected. So I will aim to improve that part by showing how Jak's sane thoughts suddenly become insane.

I think a lot of writers over do things, particularly by trying to make things seem to happen quickly and manically by writing in a similar style-in "Stone Cold", the last few pages are written in this style, and while it is probably a perfect representation of the writer's interpretation of the arrest of a psychopath (I think that's what happened, I can't really remember), it isn't very satisfying for the reader. So I understand what you're saying, and I will try to improve my work soon.

I did think something was missing in the beginning, and now I'm surprised that I didn't realise what it was-a description of the characters in the squad! Needless to say, I will introduce them earlier on.

And thank you for the book recommendations, I shall try to get my hands on those. I'm currently reading "Young Stalin", which is basically a biography of Stalin before he came to power. It isn't exactly a story, being concerned mainly with the facts, but there are points where it is written in a semi-narrative fashion. The author (I can't remember his name) speaks a lot about possible turning points in Stalin's life which may have helped to form the tyrant he later became. For some, it might just be boring and not offer much insight into the workings of the Human mind, but I would like to recommend it anyway. The duality of good and evil is one of my favourite themes, and Stalin is one of the best real-life representations of the clash between good and evil in everybody's mind (with evil ultimately prevailing, it seems).

Right, sorry for going on and on like that. So, finally, I agree with you that The Dark Knight is an excellent film. The Joker is possibly my favourite villain, though he lacks a good side, and I prefer villains with a good side. But then, for me, he is the ultimate representation of evil, so it is fitting for him to not have a good side. Jorj was intended to be quite similar to the Joker, but I'm afraid I might ruin this by giving him a slightly good side.

And now I'm hinting things too much again! Again, sorry for going on, and thanks for the honest review.

Normally I don't read war stories but this was an exception, give yourself a pat on the back this is the first war story i have read. I am going to go over some of the grammar mistakes for you so here goes.

Jak Conwee gritted his teeth as another shell fell above the bunker, blinking manically to get the thick dust out of his eyes. For three and a half days, the Sergeant and his squad had endured the bombardment-half the squad had been rendered useless from shell shock.

They had been told the war would be a quick one-as soon as the Allied Strike Force reached Mars, the Martians were supposed to be crushed in a few weeks.
Okay I agree this is a little cliche.

Jak knew that would not be the case. No war fought across an entire planet had ever been resolved so quickly. And this war was more than that-if the Strike Force failed, Jak knew, then the war would end up being fought across the Solar System.
Okay you don't need a comma after knew.


Bizarrely, it was such thoughts that kept Jak sane, for it distracted him from the continuous barrage above. So he was not surprised that he wasn't the first to notice when the bombardment stopped. The squad was looking upwards, wearily, as though it would fall down at any moment. Jak gulped. The silence could mean only two things-salvation, or near certain death. Surrender was not an option.
Instead of having a period after Jack gulped you could put a comma, the two sentances would connect nicely I think.

Private Louk Harrison, one of the more psychologically sound troopers in Jak's squad, stared at Jak, tapping on the helmet slung on his waist.


"Go check it out, Private."


Louk smiled nervously and nodded. He limped towards the door and placed his finger on the scan lock, looking back and nodding at each of the Squad mates. Somehow, Jak knew he would never see Louk alive again.


The squad waited nervously, listening intently, stiffly aiming their guns at the open door. It seemed like an age before they heard anything, and when they did, they wish it was an age. At first they just heard gunfire, and Fillop and Mark made for the stairs beyond the door, but Jak stopped them. He needed them alive. The shooting continued for twenty seconds, before the sinister "whoosh" of a flamethrower could be heard, swiftly followed by a piercing scream. Jak shuddered, trying desperately not to think about Louk's fate.
Okay it should be: ...they wished it had been an age.

Then all was silent. Jak nodded at Mark, who shut the door and bolted it. Jak simply stared at nothing, thin air, before collapsing onto the floor. He had broken. Whimpering, he rolled around, crazily, clawing at his own face until he drew blood.

The squad simply stood and watched. Those who had not already been reduced to such a nervous wreck knew that their time would come soon. It was only when Jak aimed his pistol at his head that Mark knocked him unconscious.


"Had to be done." Mark said, chuckling lightly.


Olliva went into hysterics at that moment. He had lost it on the first day, and by the second he had to be permanently restrained-effectively taking away the only piece of furniture in the bunker. Jorj Aliston, a murderer who had served twenty years for killing his entire family, shot Olliva multiple times in the lower torso.
So does Olivia go into hysterics because Jak lost it?


"Take that, private!" Jorj cackled, partly at his own joke, partly at the interesting colour formed by the mixture of fluids pouring out of Olliva's spasming corpse and legs.
Gross, but well described, ewww.


Mark went to restrain Jorj, but was not quick enough-Jorj, master of contemporary martial arts, kicked Mark twice in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious. Jorj then drew his knife and dissected Mark's lungs before his body reached the floor.
okay I think this is enough information you don't have to get any more gruesome for me.


Fillop, Rojjar and Ben stepped back as Jorj grinned manically at them. They were the last half sane people in the bunker, and they knew that, even together, they were no match for the psychopath.


"What's wrong?" Jorj inquired, suddenly very serious, "You don't think I want to kill you, do you? I want to get out alive too you know!"


Jorj' lips curled, and he stared at Fillop, licking the blood from his knife.
Again, grossss but shows what a maniac he is.

"I'm sorry," he said, "He was your friend, wasn't he? Well, I'll be your friend now. I'll be all your friends. But you all need to obey me-I'm the leader now."


Jorj sheathed his knife and untied Olliva's bonds, knocking off his body and throwing the legs at Rojjar and Ben playfully. He then put Jak in Olliva's position, and tied him to the chair. He took a step back and observed the unconscious Sergant, unaware of his horrified comrades cowering against the wall. As what appeared to be a kind afterthought, Jorj laid Olliva's body on Jak, wrapping the corpse's arms around Jak's neck to keep it from sliding off.
Okay I saw someone reply to this earlier, but when was Olliva tied up?

Jorj laughed manically, and abruptly stopped. He turned, eyeing each of the three sane soldiers for a painfully long second. His insane, grinning face settled into a solemn image of acceptance.


"Now, we fight. If we must die, let it be on the battlefield, and we will be known forever more as heroes, and the last stand of the great Jorj, Fillop, Rojjar and Ben. Onward!"


Jorj marched towards the door, holding his rifle with a singe, outstretched arm, like a sword. After unlocking the door, he stared at the still cowering soldiers in disappointment.


"Cowards!" He spat, "If ye seek redemption, you will follow, and you will kill the Martians!"
Okay I would substitute you for ye.

Fillop and Rojjar stood up, and relucantly stepped towards the door. Jorj snarled at Ben, and threw his knife, hilt first, into Ben's eye and brain.


"Just a minute."


Jorj retrieved his knife and laid Ben's corpse on top of Jak and Olliva, before ascending the stairs.
Don't have to have a comma after Olliva I think.

As soon as Rojjar followed Jorj, Fillop slammed the door shut, cutting Jak's bonds and knocking him and the corpses off, before wedging the chair agains the door. He nearly didn't make it, as Jorj rushed down the stairs to kill the coward. Fillop could hear Rojjar screeching as Jorj cut off his hand in anger, before dragging him up the stairs. The screeching died down into a soft whimpering. Then Fillop realised that the whimpering was in fact coming from Jak.


Fillop turned to see Jak staring wide-eyed at the corpses that littered the bunker. Jak looked at Fillop, his lip wobbling.


"What...w-what...h-happened?"


"Crazy Jorj showed just how crazy he really is." Fillop said quietly.



The two embraced as they listened to the fighting above. They had no doubt that Rojjar had been put out of action, probably killed, but, equally, they knew that Jorj would never stop fighting until he was truly killed, for no amount of pain could debilitate him, and, insane as he was, he did not lack cunning, and could probably stay alive against whatever force was advancing upon him for days. Luckily, something wasn't going right for Jorj, and he clearly died after a long five minutes of furious battle.


Jak and Fillop gave a sigh of relief as they heard soldiers outside, "open this door and surrender!". The two survivors of the disastrous invasion willingly allowed themselves to be arrested by the Martian rebels, uncaring of whether they would be imprisoned or executed-anything was better than this war.
Capitilize the Open.

Great story, keep up the good work and good luck with future writing.

Thanks. I've fixed all the grammar mistakes. I'll probably polish it up a bit tomorrow (well, today).

Hmmz, one of you has said that the gory bits need more description, whereas one of you says they're fine as they are (or possibly less?). And that puts me in a very annoying position! If anyone could give their own opinions on the gore that would be much appreciated (I just know this is going to result in five people saying they want the gore to be better described and five people saying it's described enough as it is ). I will probably opt for the "more description" suggestion anyway-this isn't intended for the light hearted. Not that I'm the type of person who likes to watch films like "Saw" and "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" (I'm too young for a start!).

Also, I forgot to say this in my last post, when I said that Olliva had been "permanently restrained", I basically meant that he had been tied up. But seeing as this isn't as obvious as I thought it was (I suppose it could mean there were people constantly holding him, or something...) I will change that as well.

Finally, I think I made this clear in my last post, but I'll say it again anyway. The Martians are Humans-something which is Martian is simply something from the planet Mars, and this story is about a war where one side consists mainly of Humans from Earth and the other consists mainly of Humans from the colonies of Mars.
So, when you say it is cliche, are you talking about the idea of Martians as in the Martians in War of the Worlds, or just the idea of a war between Earth and Mars, or even the entire genre?

Okay, I've edited it, and I think it's a lot better now. If you still think it's missing something, or if you see any errors please say.

Yes, yes, yes, that is MUCH better. I got a much better feel for the characters this time, and the prose seems much better (i.e. less sparse) than it was previously. In particular, the scene where Jorj dies is just...beautiful. There's something in it I can't describe but I like it a lot.

A few minor quibbles are that the prose still feels a bit sparse and vaguely awkward at times, and there are a few grammatical errors (for example, one time you wrote "Jorj'" instead of "Jorj's". Also, I still can't shake the feeling that Jak's descent into insanity was still a bit quick.

Still, excellent work, I can really see this going somewhere. Glad my suggestions helped you.

Thank you again. I've gone over it and fixed a few grammatical errors ("Jorj'" looks more correct than "Jorj's" to me, but if you're sure...).

I'm going to start writing chapter 1 soon. I will come back and try to improve on the problems still present in the prologue (or maybe they'll be dealt with at a later point in the story... ).

It is more gramatically correct; the only time when you're supposed to just put an apostrophe after the word is if it ends in s, and even the Struck & White manual (at least um...the falling apart circa 1975 paperback missing half its pages that I have >_>) discourages that. So basically just stick with putting "s" after every word you want to make into a possessive.

Good work, can't wait for chapter one.