Young Writers Society

tick....tock...tick...tock... The grandfather clock that hung on the wall lazily ticked away the seconds. tick...tock...clang. The hour struck 7:00 in the morning. The thud of a newspaper on the dirt floor outside made a welcome relief to the hypnotizing ticks of the clock.
A woman with greying hair and eyes sunk deep in worry took up the paper. She was dressed in the dark blue police uniform. As her eyes fell on one of the headlines, she gravely shook her head and entered the house.
She made herself a coffee and sat down to read. Halfway through the paper, she crushed and threw it across the room. “Enough,” She pompously bellowed at it, pointing her finger menacingly “You will not get away with this. Criminals” She spat towards the paper. “As long as I. Marcy, Chief of the Octavius police force is around, the police will hound you down. And destroy you!”

---
Frustration continued gathering in Marcy as she entered Police HQ. For ten years, her hard work as Police Chief had not unraveled her. Despite the rise in violent crime and the lack of trust in her, she had continued on. Her top blew the moment she entered her office.
Her subordinates cupped their ears and ran for cover. She was only calmed down ten minutes later when her deputy hollered back. “Get me something to fix this” She snarled. With an almost meek expression, her deputy bowed and left the room. She slouched into her chair and waited for Cornele to bring back an answer.
Cornele was such a great person, Marcy wondered what she would do without her. Always one with a solution, Cornele had been the main problem fixer for the last three years. Her expertise at tracking had somewhat slowed the rise in crime.
Half an hour later, Cornele returned to inform Marcy that the state Chief was on the line.
“Sir”
“Your deputy has informed us of your situation. The board of Inspectors will come up with a solution, in three days an answer will be sent to you. In the meantime, I want you to report every day.” Marcy cursed silently under her breath. Bureaucratic delays, she fumed.
“As you wish sir. We’ll inform whenever we can” She slammed the phone down. “See what they have for us?” She glared at her. “With the amount of time they take, We’d be policing a ghost town before three weeks are over.”

----
State HQ acted much faster than anticipated, but what they sent, in Marcy’s opinion, were total nuisances. The two agents standing in front of her stood at attention, their street clothes bringing s strange odor to her nose. Both were of medium height, had light-brown skin and black hair.
They had been disrupting and disturbing the clerks working in the office. Until Marcy came in and threatened to shoot them. Moving to attention, they gave her a small envelope. The contents had just been read, and she thought the two would be shot before they had been around twenty-four hours. She sighed and told them to contact her for help if and when they needed. They bowed and left.

---
The two agents, one now spotting a mustache, with the other wearing curly red hair, entered a bar some miles away from their hotel and seated themselves near a darkened corner. It was night, and lighting was so poor they could not see what they were drinking. They were soon accosted by a man. From his shadow, he looked to be tall and somewhat lean. “Water is scarce,” he told them Finding no answer, he pulled up a chair and looked at the two of them with drunken eyes.
“Mee’s Maarrrk. dhat wherrss geebbererleash.” He held out his hand.
“Matthew,” The man-agent replied, he motioned to his counterpart, “Maria.” The man shook hands and motioned for three beers. “Supposed to beee asweep are youuu norrrt?” He smilingly slurred his words until he could barely be understood, then he slumped forward, asleep.
Matthew held up a sleep dart and smiled at Maria. “Sorry, getting rid of nuisances.” Maria smiled back. “Let’s go.” They hopped up and darted from the bar. A fifteen minutes walk took them to the small hostel where they had put up. It was past eight at night when they reached the door.

----
Mark slowly took his head off the table. He smiled to himself. Definitely not Octaviuns, never would have tried sleep darts on me otherwise. He pushed back his chair and winked at Andorra, who was sitting at the opposite side of the room.
“Can’t tell, boss. Think they are new herh.” He said when he crossed the room.
“Yes,” Andorra sat in deep thought, “they are new, i need information. Everything that can be found out about them, do so. We have more work to do tomorrow night. Canderian’s pockets are getting a little full. He thinks he’s so safe with all his machines. We’ll teach him a lesson.” Mark nodded and went to another table.
Bringing his voice to a whisper, he said, “Gondra, fhind dose two. Fhind everything you nid to noew.” He knew he would get all the information he wanted.

----
“Housebreaking, Maria? I don’t think this is a good idea. It’s been done too many times.” Matthew whispered across the fence to Maria.
“Of course it’s been done too many times, but why is it still successful? ” She angrily worked away at the gate that was barring their advance.
She had decided the best way to get inducted into Mark’s gang was to become notorious themselves. Matthew had to agree. The house they chose had been carefully selected. Not only was the occupants well known, the amount of money thought to be stored inside was incredible.
Maria finally got the gate to open. Crawling through the opening in the wall, they found themselves in a garden unlike any other. It was made of metal. The trees would sprout electricity from their finger-like branches whenever a security breach was reported. It was lucky for the two that they had not broken the seal of the gate.
They crawled along the wall and began to pick the back door’s lock. The lock gave way surprisingly fast, and the two ducked in with guns raised. They stopped in shock. The kitchen was strewn with all sorts of burnt out machinery. In the center of it two men stood facing them with guns raised, they shut the door behind them.
Both sides stared down each other for about five minutes. Frowning in delight, Matthew holstered his pistol and took a step towards the two men.
“Mark, am I correct?” He held out his hand.
“Heha, Id’s me no surer.” Mark grasped the offered hand.
“Ah, you know each other then,” Mark’s companion shook hands with Matthew, “we should be doing things together.”
BANG. The door behind them was hit, heavily. Like the sound of gunshots, something pounded the door. Mark raised his eyebrows in alarm. The four dashed through the house and out the front door.
They ran for about five hundred yards. Crouching and looking back, Matthew asked them why they had run. Their reply was so soft Matthew had to repeat.
“Why did you run? What was that you were afraid of? Another gang?”
Andorra looked Matthew in the eye and whispered, “That’s not another gang, that’s the people who do most of the crime round here. Compared to them, we’re the good guys.”
“What are they?”
“I don’t really know, they live underground, they’re Ghosts in the night.”

Continued in chapter 3

Hi there!
I see you have the start of what I think could be a potentially brilliant novel.
I'll get the nitpicks out of the way first. They're mostly mechanical; not in relation with the actual content of your story. I've outlined the small errors that I've found and corrected in red, as well as some suggestions:

Tick....Tock...Tick...Tock... The grandfather clock that hung on the wall lazily ticked away the seconds. Tick...Tock...clang. Perhaps this could have an exclamation mark instead of a period? Maybe have it italicized? Add some excitement.
The hour struck 7:00 in the morning. The thud of a newspaper on the dirt floor outside made a welcome relief to the hypnotizing ticks of the clock.
A woman with graying hair and eyes sunk deep in worry took up the paper. She was dressed in the dark blue police uniform. As her eyes fell on one of the headlines, she gravely shook her head and entered the house.
She made herself a coffee and sat down to read. Halfway through the paper, she crushed is and threw it across the room. “Enough,” She pompously bellowed at it, pointing her finger menacingly “You will not get away with this. Criminals.” She spat towards the paper. “As long as I, Marcy, Chief of the Octavius police force am around, the police will hound you down. And destroy you!”

---
Frustration continued gathering in Marcy as she entered Police HQ. For ten years, her hard work as Police Chief had not unraveled her. Despite the rise in violent crime and the lack of trust in her, she had continued on. Her top blew the moment she entered her office.
Her subordinates cupped their ears and ran for cover. She was only calmed down ten minutes later when her deputy hollered back. “Get me something to fix this.” She snarled. With an almost meek expression, her deputy bowed and left the room. She slouched into her chair and waited for Cornele to bring back an answer.
Cornele was such a great person, Marcy wondered what she would do without her. Always one with a solution, Cornele had been the main problem fixer for the last three years. Her expertise at tracking had somewhat slowed the rise in crime.
Half an hour later, Cornele returned to inform Marcy that the state Chief was on the line.
“Sir.”
“Your deputy has informed us of your situation. The Board of Inspectors will come up with a solution, in three days an answer will be sent to you. In the meantime, I want you to report every day.” Marcy cursed silently under her breath. Bureaucratic delays, she fumed.
“As you wish sir. We’ll inform whenever we can” She slammed the phone down. “See what they have for us?” She glared at her. “With the amount of time they take, We’d be policing a ghost town before three weeks are over.”

----
State HQ acted much faster than anticipated, but what they sent, in Marcy’s opinion, were total nuisances. The two agents standing in front of her stood at attention, their street clothes bringing s strange odor to her nose. Both were of medium height, had light-brown skin and black hair.
They had been disrupting and disturbing the clerks working in the office. Until Marcy came in and threatened to shoot them. Moving to attention, they gave her a small envelope. The contents had just been read, and she thought the two would be shot before they had been around twenty-four hours. She sighed and told them to contact her for help if and when they needed. They bowed and left.

---
The two agents, one now spotting a mustache, with the other wearing curly red hair, entered a bar some miles away from their hotel and seated themselves near a darkened corner. It was night, and lighting was so poor they could not see what they were drinking. They were soon accosted by a man. From his shadow, he looked to be tall and somewhat lean. “Water is scarce,” he told them Finding no answer, he pulled up a chair and looked at the two of them with drunken eyes.
“Mee’s Maarrrk. dhat wherrss geebbererleash.” He held out his hand.
“Matthew,” The man-agent replied, motioning to his counterpart, “Maria.” The man shook hands and motioned for three beers. “Supposed to beee asweep are youuu norrrt?” He smilingly slurred his words until he could barely be understood, then he slumped forward, asleep.
Matthew held up a sleep dart and smiled at Maria. “Sorry, getting rid of nuisances.” Maria smiled back. “Let’s go.” They hopped up and darted from the bar. A fifteen minutes walk took them to the small hostel where they had put up. It was past eight at night when they reached the door.

----
Mark slowly took his head off the table. He smiled to himself. Definitely not Octaviuns, never would have tried sleep darts on me otherwise. He pushed back his chair and winked at Andorra, who was sitting at the opposite side of the room.
“Can’t tell, boss. Think they are new herh.” He said when he crossed the room.
“Yes,” Andorra sat in deep thought, “they are new, i need information. Everything that can be found out about them, do so. We have more work to do tomorrow night. Canderian’s pockets are getting a little full. He thinks he’s so safe with all his machines. We’ll teach him a lesson.” Mark nodded and went to another table.
Bringing his voice to a whisper, he said, “Gondra, fhind dose two. Fhind everything you nid to noew.” He knew he would get all the information he wanted.

----
“Housebreaking, Maria? I don’t think this is a good idea. It’s been done too many times.” Matthew whispered across the fence to Maria.
“Of course it’s been done too many times, but why is it still successful? ” She angrily worked away at the gate that was barring their advance.
She had decided the best way to get inducted into Mark’s gang was to become notorious themselves. Matthew had to agree. The house they chose had been carefully selected. Not only was the occupants well known, the amount of money thought to be stored inside was incredible.
Maria finally got the gate to open. Crawling through the opening in the wall, they found themselves in a garden unlike any other. It was made of metal. The trees would sprout electricity from their finger-like branches whenever a security breach was reported. It was lucky for the two that they had not broken the seal of the gate.
They crawled along the wall and began to pick the back door’s lock. The lock gave way surprisingly fast, and the two ducked in with guns raised. They stopped in shock. The kitchen was strewn with all sorts of burnt out machinery. In the center of it two men stood facing them with guns raised, they shut the door behind them.
Both sides stared down each other for about five minutes. Frowning in delight, Matthew holstered his pistol and took a step towards the two men.
“Mark, am I correct?” He held out his hand.
“Heha, Id’s me no surer.” Mark grasped the offered hand.
“Ah, you know each other then,” Mark’s companion shook hands with Matthew, “we should be doing things together.”
BANG. The door behind them was hit, heavily. Like the sound of gunshots, something pounded the door. Mark raised his eyebrows in alarm. The four dashed through the house and out the front door.
They ran for about five hundred yards. Crouching and looking back, Matthew asked them why they had run. Their reply was so soft Matthew had to repeat.
“Why did you run? What was that you were afraid of? Another gang?”
Andorra looked Matthew in the eye and whispered, “That’s not another gang, that’s the people who do most of the crime round here. Compared to them, we’re the good guys.”
“What are they?”
“I don’t really know, they live underground, they’re Ghosts in the night.”

Onto the story- I like what you have here. I read the first chapter earlier and I was drawn in almost immediately. Mostly, I am curious as to where this story is going, as I have no clue.
I am excited for when the ghosts really become part of the story, for sure!
Overall this had some good descriptions, emotions and you're character building is efficient.
Hope I helped, and happy writing
-Briggsy

Hey there, I've read chapter one, and as it's been thoroughly reviewed and there's nothing else I can really add, I'll start with chapter 2.

tick....tock...tick...tock... The grandfather clock that hung on the wall lazily ticked away the seconds. tick...tock...clang. The hour struck 7:00 in the morning. The thud of a newspaper on the dirt floor outside made a welcome relief to the hypnotizing ticks of the clock.
A woman with greying hair and eyes sunk deep in worry took up the paper. She was dressed in the dark blue police uniform. As her eyes fell on one of the headlines, she gravely shook her head and entered the house.
She made herself a coffee and sat down to read. Halfway through the paper, she crushed and threw it across the room. “Enough,” She pompously bellowed at it, pointing her finger menacingly “You will not get away with this. Criminals” She spat towards the paper. “As long as I. Marcy, Chief of the Octavius police force is around, the police will hound you down. And destroy you!”

Overall I think this is a great start, you've got some nice description here of Marcy. Just the phrase 'eyes sunk deep in worry' says so much. However, there are a few too many clauses that start with 'she...' here for my liking. I'd try and rephrase them a bit. Also, there should be a new line for each line of dialogue by a new character.

Frustration continued gathering in Marcy as she entered Police HQ. For ten years, her hard work as Police Chief had not unraveled her... Her subordinates cupped their ears and ran for cover. She was only calmed down ten minutes later when her deputy hollered back. “Get me something to fix this” She snarled. With an almost meek expression, her deputy bowed and left the room. She slouched into her chair and waited for Cornele to bring back an answer.

'Unravelled' needs two 'l's. Again, there needs to be a new line for the dialogue. I'm not sure about the phrase 'almost meek expression', I'd have thought someone would be either meek or not. It's really a personal preference though, keep it if you want.

State HQ acted much faster than anticipated, but what they sent, in Marcy’s opinion, were total nuisances. The two agents standing in front of her stood at attention, their street clothes bringing s strange odor to her nose. Both were of medium height, had light-brown skin and black hair.

There needs to be an 'a' in between 'bringing' and 'strange', it's probably just a typo though, being so close to 's'. I'm also not too keen on the way they characters are described here, I just feel it could be done in a more interesting way that ties it into the story as opposed to simply telling the reader what they look like. For example, you could describe a character 'running his fingers though his black hair'.

The two agents, one now spotting a mustache, with the other wearing curly red hair, entered a bar some miles away from their hotel and seated themselves near a darkened corner. It was night, and lighting was so poor they could not see what they were drinking. They were soon accosted by a man. From his shadow, he looked to be tall and somewhat lean. “Water is scarce,” he told them Finding no answer, he pulled up a chair and looked at the two of them with drunken eyes.
“Mee’s Maarrrk. dhat wherrss geebbererleash.” He held out his hand.
“Matthew,” The man-agent replied, he motioned to his counterpart, “Maria.” The man shook hands and motioned for three beers. “Supposed to beee asweep are youuu norrrt?” He smilingly slurred his words until he could barely be understood, then he slumped forward, asleep.

By 'spotting', I assume you mean 'sporting'. There is a slight issue I have with how Mark is written. One moment he seems perfectly lucid ("Water is scarce"), and the next he can barely speak ("Mee’s Maarrrk. dhat wherrss geebbererleash"). If that is because of the sleep dart, then it's not very clear.

Mark slowly took his head off the table. He smiled to himself. Definitely not Octaviuns, never would have tried sleep darts on me otherwise. He pushed back his chair and winked at Andorra, who was sitting at the opposite side of the room.
“Can’t tell, boss. Think they are new herh.” He said when he crossed the room.
“Yes,” Andorra sat in deep thought, “they are new, i need information. Everything that can be found out about them, do so. We have more work to do tomorrow night. Canderian’s pockets are getting a little full. He thinks he’s so safe with all his machines. We’ll teach him a lesson.” Mark nodded and went to another table.
Bringing his voice to a whisper, he said, “Gondra, fhind dose two. Fhind everything you nid to noew.” He knew he would get all the information he wanted.

Again, there is a slight problem with Mark, I'm not sure whether he's slurring his words still, even after the dart has worn off, or if that is just naturally how he speaks (or if they're spelling mistakes). The final line is a little unnecessary I think, simply reitorating what the previous line said.

Crawling through the opening in the wall, they found themselves in a garden unlike any other. It was made of metal. The trees would sprout electricity from their finger-like branches whenever a security breach was reported. It was lucky for the two that they had not broken the seal of the gate.

This sounds like an interesting idea which could have been elaborated on more.

BANG. The door behind them was hit, heavily. Like the sound of gunshots, something pounded the door. Mark raised his eyebrows in alarm. The four dashed through the house and out the front door.
They ran for about five hundred yards. Crouching and looking back, Matthew asked them why they had run. Their reply was so soft Matthew had to repeat.
“Why did you run? What was that you were afraid of? Another gang?”
Andorra looked Matthew in the eye and whispered, “That’s not another gang, that’s the people who do most of the crime round here. Compared to them, we’re the good guys.”
“What are they?”
“I don’t really know, they live underground, they’re Ghosts in the night.”

Aha, back to the ghosts again! Overall, I think you got some good ideas here, they just need to be given a bit more elaboration in places, a little more description here and there to set the scene and the mood clearer.

Hope I've been of help!

Hai! Okay so its been forever, but I've finally got some spare time so here I am to review

Line By Line

tick....tock...tick...tock... [Use capitals! Never start a sentence with a small letter!] The grandfather clock that hung on the wall lazily ticked away the seconds. tick...tock...clang. The hour struck 7:00 [Seven! Only use numbers if it's for a mathematical equation. Generally, you should type them out in words.] in the morning. The thud of a newspaper on the dirt floor outside made a welcome relief to the hypnotizing ticks of the clock.

She made herself a coffee and sat down to read. Halfway through the paper, she crushed and threw it across the room. “Enough,” She pompously bellowed at it, pointing her finger menacingly. “You will not get away with this. Criminals.” [Fix that punctuation!] She spat towards the paper. “As long as I. [Comma here instead of full stop.] Marcy, Chief of the Octavius police force is around, the police will hound you down. And destroy you!”

Alright, I'm not sure that this is very realistic. She's having a mini rant to herself about catching criminals? Any respect I might have had for her has just gone. Who really talks aloud to themselves like that? Give her someone to be talking to or make this thoughts in her head! Also, give us more background details as to why she feels like this. Just a few hints so that we can understand her rage and her need to stop this person.

Realism

Your main issue here is realism in the actions and dialogue of your characters. For example, you have two agents bowing at one point. Uh... what? A nod of the head would be more realistic, almost anything would be more realistic. Then there's the issue of the sleeping drug. That part is passed by too quickly to be dramatic or to quite understand who it is getting spiked by the drug. Then your character gets up again two seconds later. Fine, if you have a reason for it, but your reader needs time to adjust. You reader needs to worry for a moment first or just to realise that the character has been drugged even.

Also, I'd like to see a better variation in your characters. So far you have two females with similar names, both of which are quick to anger. Fix that! Make them all independent characters or your reader will get confused and bored.

Excitement

You're too fast! It's great that you have all this action and it makes the plot really fun, but it's hard to keep up with and instead of feeling excited, your reader ends up feeling rushed. Slow it down. Describe what's going on more. Throw in some extra dialogue to develop the characters. Just give your reader a chance to actually feel that excitement and to invest in your characters.

Overall

I think once you develop your world more and get deeper into your characters, this will make for a really fun, action packed story. At the moment it needs to be more realistic though and some of your dialogue reads like a teenager is speaking to be completely honest. So take another look and run it through the editting mill.

Good luck!

Heather xxx