The Flash

Downtown looked as if it was under nuclear alert. Not a soul was in sight. However, their litter was another story. Bottles dotted curbs and sidewalks. Old McDonalds bags and business fliers flew in the early morning wind. It sent a chill down his spine. He tightened the heavy coat around him and adjusted his scarf as he hurried on. Oh how he wished he took gloves when he left a month ago.

He was too busy watching his breath in the air as he mumbled in a neverending stream to notice the TV of an electronics store flashing urgent messages on the screen. “The Art Murderers” flew by in big, bold letters. Pictures of mangled bodies were arranged in a slideshow, one after another. The one that was shown as he made his way past had its arms sawed off, its intestines woven together like a scarf around its neck, and its legs sewn into its hands like freakishly long limbs.

“The flash... the flash... oh, the flash...”

He cocked his head around into the darkness of the dimly-lit street. A faint click. A faint flash in the distance. All followed by faint laughter. He picked up his pace with both his legs and his mouth.
“Why - why are you doing this to me?” unable to project his voice, he choked on his words.

The laughter turned into giggling. It was as if the voice was everywhere, surrounding him. He continued on despite this, half tumbling out of the city's bounds, down a grassy hill, and onto the pavement of a highway. He was lucky – as he tracked mud across the road, no cars came to end his life. However, he jerked his head when he realized there was an artificial light source. A lone streetlight.

Shaking his head at himself, he continued, scrambling over a guardrail. He almost lost his balance, placing his hand on a tree trunk. He couldn't feel its rough bark tearing the skin of his numb hand. He took a second to look up. The branches above completely blocked out the twilight sky.

He turned around yet again. The flash appeared faintly above the hill. The shadow of a figure wasn't there for even a second, yet the gleam of his teeth in the light was ingrained in the man's retinas.

“What do you want with me?” He bellowed across the road. The only reply was laughter, like that emitted from children playing in the schoolyard.

He increased his pace, climbing over brush and becoming one with the darkness. It was as if every single tree chuckled at him. The moisture began to soak through his worn boots, and into his socks. It didn't matter – he had lost feeling in his toes long ago.

No matter how fast he ran the laugh never ceased – if anything, it amplified, getting louder; closer. Soon, the man was breathless – the epiphany hit him: he was a business man, not an athlete. He was nearing his limit.

He tripped, landing face-first on a fallen tree branch. He pulled a sharp twig out of his cheek, and attempted to stand. He couldn't see what was slicing his hands, preventing him from getting back on his feet. He finally stopped trying to lift himself up when he realized how close the laugh was. It was around him, so close he could reach out and touch it.

He flipped onto his bottom and began scooting himself backward. His back hit the trunk of a tree. Realization. This was it.

He armed himself with a puny stick he could barely differentiate from a snake in the dense fog of war that hid the world around him. His cheek bled down his face and neck, onto his formally white undershirt. He was a homeless man in a business suit, his jacket lost to either mother earth or the devil himself.

A click. He looked to his right just in time to be blinded by a great white light. He huffed and puffed between each word he spoke. “They never believed me. My wife, my kids, my colleagues. Why did you take them all from me? Why?”

He felt something soft on his cheek. Warm. Comforting. But then something touched his neck, sucking out his body heat. He was terrified – speechless – afraid to even breath.

The reply was by a young female voice. “Because of this beautiful body – a canvas for the most perfect artform. Repay for your crimes against society.”

At that last sentence, he tightened each of his muscles. He felt the blade slice through his skin, then muscle, then tendons, then finally, his windpipe, as if it has taken hours. With the last of his strength, he mouthed the following words: “Jamie, it was all for you.”

Have a second? Please sign my guestbook (link is below in my signature). Thanks!

Dude, that was EPIC (; I don't think I have read something that good on this website before. You are amazing You have to give me some tips on how you write like that I shall be signing.

I'm very curious as to how this ties into your Novella. This was artfully written, and was great. It was very eerie and left me wondering what was going on with this character. The suspense was great. The only thing that you might improve on descriptions, and even then you really can't improve that much further. Again this was amazing, keep up the writing, and I will be signing your guestbook.

romance otaku wrote:[center]The Flash
It sent a chill down his spine.

cliché

He tightened the heavy coat around him

how? I mean how did he tighten it? This falls a little awkwardly it may be taste but you tell me when you should really show me.

He was too busy watching his breath in the air as he mumbled in a neverending stream to notice the TV of an electronics store flashing urgent messages on the screen.

*feigns sucking a long breath* this whole sentence is long and wordy and you seem to harp on about extraneous things. Move past this pointless description it doesn't add enough depth to justify the distracting awkwardness

to notice the TV of an electronics store flashing urgent

what makes a message urgent? Are they dire? Is the screen red and the text white? You can make it clear the messages are urgent or important and add a little more imagery

The one that was shown as he made his way past had its arms sawed off, its intestines woven together like a scarf around its neck, and its legs sewn stitched into its hands like freakishly long limbs.

He cocked his head around into the darkness

did he cock his head from a light place to a dark place? or did he cock his head and look into the darkness? there's a difference and at the moment it reads a little clumsily

A faint click. A faint flash in the distance. All followed by faint laughter.

great work here.

He picked up his pace with both his legs and his mouth

(tongue?).

“Why - why are you doing this to me?” unable to project his voice, he choked on his words. He mouthed, inaudibly, unable to project his voice.

He continued on despite this, half tumbling out of the city's bounds, down a grassy hill, and onto the pavement of ad highway. He wasgot lucky – as

did he really do this as he was/got lucky? or after? "as" implys simultaneity so if one thing follows another don't use it.

However, he jerked his head when he realized there was an artificial light source. A lone streetlight.

Remember 'however' is used if you about to contrast or contradict something you asserted earlier in the paragraph. If it doesn't don't use it, its not needed.

Shaking his head at himself

how does someone shake their head at themselves, was he looking into the mirror? I mean this doesn't make a lot of sense and you could get your point across more effectively with something like He shook his head as if to wake himself from daydream

he continued, scrambling over a guardrail. He almost lost his balance, placing his hand on a tree trunk

again not awfully descriptive, read the definition of 'place' and you'll probably conclude this all seems bizarre in light of the circumstances, perhaps have him snatch at tree truck for support, or grasp at the trunk to regain balance

The branches above completely blocked out the twilight sky.

again description is an issue here, are the branches twiggy or bushy? thick, daunting, dark, green, leafy? and how does the light come through? is it completely blocked or does some of the twilight sky seem through?

He turned around yet again. The flash appeared faintly above the hill

this is a little awkward, how does it appear faintly? is it a faint figure as in blurred, translucent, a shadow or a silhouette? I know you explain this in the following sentences but it is still a little inept

The shadow of a figure wasn't there for even a secondappeared for less than a second

The only reply was laughter, like that emitted from children playing in the schoolyard

this isn't a great simile, It falls gracelessly, I mean the idea of this entity laughing like children is terrifying but you can say it much more eloquently.

No matter how fast he ran the laughter never ceased – if anything, it amplified, getting louder; closer.

At that last sentence, he tightened each of his every muscles. He felt the blade slice through his skin, then muscle, then tendons, then finally, his windpipe, as if it hashad taken hours. With the last of his strength (strength or breath/energy/concious?), he mouthed the following word: “Jamie, it was all for you.”

[/quote]

There was a lot more through out the piece that needs urgent attention - but its all of the same vein of what I've already mentioned and I didn't want to repeat myself.

I'm trying something new with reviewing that I have never done so bare with me; a little ratings section - so here goes.

Introduction/hook 4/5 - The strength of this story is the enigma. It's alluring. You start this story well and set it up nicely in the first paragraph. You don't mention anything about the 'flash' but the dystopian eerie feeling at the start draws the reader in.

Characters 1/5 - You really don't do enough to give us insight into the characters. All you seem to do is make this guy who I don't care for run for a bit and then get killed. I really don't care, at the end of the story I felt nothing; had no opinion about either character. You need to talk more about his fear, his sweaty palms, his wide eyes and adrenalin. Make him relatable.

Plot 3/5 - Although it all seemed a little imperfect and you didn't provide much in the way of a premise you still did something with the characters and opened it up for additional chapters. If this is a standalone piece, as in a short story I would give it a 1/5. If this is a prologue/chapter than its OK because there is, presumably, a story to look forward to. This in itself is not much of a story at all.

Dialogue 4/5 - Dialogue was realistic and speech tags weren't too bad.

Narration 2/5 - You narrate this in a way that doesn't provide much intrinsic description. You need to weave the details in subtly to paint a picture, just little descriptive tags. You also need to talk about feelings and emotions, you're omnipresent, you know how they feel and you can show the reader a little more insight into both the characters in this piece.

All in all I feel the biggest draw back of the story is the lack of description. You tell far too much and don't do much showing at all. Paint a picture for us then take us there. The writing itself is sound. Keep it up.

Hope that all helps,
JP