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16+ Language Violence

Acrylics.

by Kachricof


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language and violence.

Chapter ONe

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Where am I? I thought to myself. From what I can tell I am on a sofa with the complexion of dried blood I hope I didn’t make it that way. I thought after fights like those you end up in the ER or a nice coffin, not in someone’s house, especially of a stranger. My body feels like lead, in my head I am getting off of this nice and soft sofa… Damn, I can’t fall asleep again, if I wake up again I may have some other person’s face. I honestly like my face. I dragged my legs off the sofa and onto what appeared to be shag carpeting. This place is just horrendously vile to my tastes already.

I deliberately dragged my feet against the floor; I didn’t want to injure myself more than I already have. Damn, I should’ve just listen to Mikey and calm down before I got into that fight with the behemoth Civen, stupid old man thinks he knows me better than me. I can hardly contain myself from vomiting from the sheer ghastliness this place is, walls appear to be painted by a five year old, the decorations set up by blind people, and the beady eyes of the busts that line the walls.

I examined one of the marble bust, “President blah blah blah Franklin D. Roosevelt…United States of blahhhhhh-ica” I pondered for a moment who this Franklin guy may be, was he just some business man or did he actually do something, I honestly don’t care too much to have a full on intellectual discussion with myself on the principles of leaders of nations and blah blah blah, I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.

Speaking of faces I need to see the damage on my person. I scanned the area thoroughly to find a mirror but there is one above good old FDR, I can’t believe I missed that, I must have been too busy analyzing my own thoughts and blah blah blah.

I looked into the mirror; I thought I was going to see gashes galore on my face but rather there is just one that seemed to fade in and out of existence it draped down from my right eye brow to the bottom of my eye. I don’t remember Civen hit me in the face, all I remember was a bunch of body blows and me getting tossed against a wall, several times. I couldn’t help but stare at the scar playing Houdini on me.

I turned away. I really need to find a door out of here or I could just fly out the window but I want to be inconspicuous but, damn, I’m going to have to use the door.

“Hello there, I see you’re doing just fine,” a voice called out. I turned to see a girl staring right into my eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay I was fearful you would’ve gone catatonic on me, “ she said I couldn’t help but stand in silence although I was sure I was going to say something, she kept on doing her own thing. “So how you been, I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“What?” I am a sheer master at linguistics.

“Deka, don’t play dumb it’s me Acrilia, you know from second grade, Rouge East Elementary, Deamach City? I saw you in an alleyway knocked out and simmering as if you were caught on fire. Since I knew the paramedics won’t take you in for being, you know ‘super-powered’ I knew I had to take you to my lovely apartment and help you recover. ” I totally wish I could remember but then again I don’t really remember much prior to my brother Nexurth’s birth. I think I was once in the second grade or I was home schooled at the time, in fact I did go to school, that’s where I met Mikey, my best bud. I wonder what he is doing right now, probably chatting it up on how lame of a fighter I was against Civen, damn, I going to school both of them and show them who the best fighter is and when I take down I-Fyre than I’m going to teach them a lesson and then I will show the world I mean business.

“Yeah I totally remember, it’s been a long time,” I said really trying to hold back the sarcasm that really shouldn’t have been crawling to my tone.

“Sweetness, remember when Mikey ate the teacher’s plastic fruit, and he blamed it on you and everyone vouched for that, that was so ridiculous,” she said leaning on the wall.

If she knows or remembers Mikey maybe than I actually do remember her, but why would I forget a girl like her, she seems so energetic, full of life, and happy. I wish I can be happy but I won’t be until I get I-Fyre’s heads on a plate before the people they hurt with their actions in the name of monetary endowment.

“So I’m gonna go now, I hope you don’t mind but its been a blast and all but I have to jet,” I told her hoping for a nod of understanding to signify that I am leaving and probably never coming back, unless she follows me until I become unconscious again and this time ties me to the inside of her closet and feeds me rose buds and makes me drink liquid sunshine. She could just nurse me back to health again and let me leave but I’m not going to take any chances.

I lagged my foot past the threshold of the entrance I couldn’t help but hear something in my head other than my own tedious and sometimes narcissistic thoughts “You can come too if you want,” what the hell did I just say.

“Of course I want to!” she said. She disappeared from the room and I started to hear a commotion of rummaging noises coming from the back. In the meantime while she is doing whatever I’m going to leave and never return and hope I don’t see her smile casting light into my dark dominion I call my heart, never again.

As soon I stepped onto the patio I couldn’t help the fact someone is staring at me. I had bunch of wild guesses in my mind, aliens, ghosts, and even rabid hyenas but I knew it had to be the one and only Acrilia.

“So where are we going?” she asked.

“Places,” I said, hoping it may deter from following me.

“I know some really awesome places, we should go to some of them,” she said very happily, like since she first uttered syllables to me. I couldn’t help feel a part of me want to go with her, like she was a magnet pulling me in. I just hope this really doesn’t interfere with my goal, but I’m going to deal with it in stride and walk with her.

I smiled and smiled back, hers just seem to light up brighter. “Let’s go than,” I said. She walked towards my side. I think my mind is playing tricks on me, I feel like I’m holding her hand but I don’t remember grabbing hers or her grabbing mine. I looked over to her and she was staring straight ahead with a less diluted smile than mine was, like an accomplished smile. I think there is more to her than meets the eye. Damn I am such a tool, or at least I am being played as one.


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Points: 616
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Sun May 12, 2013 10:31 pm
colourcrazed wrote a review...



This was really fun and interesting to read, and there was a great use of suspense and foreshadowing. However, I think you could have developed the plot and the characters' relationships and feelings more. It was rather fast paced and everything happened very quickly, so that it was hard to keep up. Deka and Acrylia bonded too quickly for the situation at hand, and Acrylia's motives are not made vetry clear. It is the same with Deka's feelings. What does he think of Acrylia? How does he feel about his fight, and the aftermath?




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Sun May 12, 2013 6:52 am
Caesar wrote a review...



Hey there Kachricof! This is an interesting chapter. I'm intrigued to find out what's going on with the I-Fyre Corp and so forth, and also who is Civen, but most of all, who Deka is.

However, I think you could have told us a bit more in this chapter as well. For example, Acrilia's motivations. Really, what kind of person takes in a burning stranger in an alley and nurses him? Wouldn't she call the police beforehand? Or is this such a common occurrence she doesn't pay much thought to it and takes him in? I'd just really like to know why, and also who she is? I doubt she's just some random person. Perhaps you could include that somewhere.

Also, I note you're introducing the fact Deka has some sort of memory loss problem? He doesn't recognize important characters such as Roosvelt. Either he's been secluded from reality for a while, or he's been mind-wiped, or something else entirely. I suspect the first two, maybe with a third option in the mix. Whatever the reason may be, it's not clear in this chapter. Perhaps you could shed some light on this. And speaking of Roosevelt's bust:

He looked in a small mirror hanging from the top a bust of Franklin D. Roosevelt; he still has no clue to whom the hell is he.


This sentence is terrible, mainly because you mix up tenses. Try something like: " He looked into a small mirror hanging from the top of a bust of someone important-looking, though he had no clue who he was"

If he doesn't know who Roosevelt was, then he obviously wouldn't know his name, yes? You seem to be employing the point of view of Deka, specifically, therefore it would not do for the author to pull back and make such a statement, especially as it's only done once, and so randomly. If it wasn't your intention, I recommend editing in a way as I described above. Unless, of course, Franklin D Roosevelt is written on the bust, at which point you can try something like "(...) of a certain Franklin D Roosevelt -- he had no idea who that was". See what I mean?

On the grammatical side, this is mostly good, however, you do muddle up in some places, for example, like the very end:

(...)and maybe even fix what is really broken within him


should be was. This is a punchy ending, mind you, but also leaves me wondering: how would he know something is broken inside of him? How does he realize? It's a very ambiguous cliff-hanger, even more so as it's the ending of a first chapter.


You should probably pull back for a moment and modify this to include more information on the plot and setting, so as the readers are able to understand what's going on, and where. That way, if you can make it interesting, people will keep on reading, because that way, you supply tasty tid-bits that aren't just the mysteries shrouding the character.

Hope this helped, and message me if I wasn't very clear in some bits of the review
~Ita




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Sun May 12, 2013 4:31 am
SalmanK says...



Its a bit silly .
But you certainly have power in your words.
You define your surroundings quite well .
Good job keep on writing !
Can you comment or review my work:
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cron
The fellow who thinks he knows it all is especially annoying to those of us who do.
— Harold Coffin