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16+ Language Violence

Chapter 1: The Barn

by Derek

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

Before we begin,  some words: 

Wow, it's been a long time guys! 2011, if I remember correctly. It's been an adventure since then, a lot has changed and I still fondly remember this place and give it so much thanks. I grew up here and it helped me not only as a writer (not just stories but grammar in general) but as a person too. So here I am, back at it. I've never done any writing other then here on YWS and I've always felt drawn to return. Long story short, I've had some mental blocks for quite a few years now but everything is looking up and my inspiration is back. Take it easy on me, I haven't written anything in years. Anyway, I'll let you get to the first chapter of my unnamed novel, don't go easy on me, hope you enjoy!

P.S. I'm already aware of some issues with framing dialog (I love dialog but it's not my strongest point), descriptions of characters (I'd like to include them in a more natural way), and ultamitely some lack of a narrative because much of the story is being made up as I go because I'm a terrible author. Feel free to include any way you can think to help with any issues but those in particular. Also sorry for any bad formatting, I've copied this and it was on mobile. Thanks!

Chapter 1: The Barn


The sound of the morning alarm threw me out of my slumber. Though, to be honest, I haven't had a good night's sleep for as long as I could remember. My bare feet hit the cold hard flooring, a feeling that was all to familiar. My hands rubbed my face, telling myself to wake up for another day in hell, even though a part of me wished I could just fall back asleep and never wake up. My dreams were the only place I was free, where everything I hated was dead and everything I wanted was just a inch away.

My eyes finally opened, revealing the dungeon I called home. Bare rock walls, nothing but a bed cot and a small basket filled with dirty clothing which were nothing more then tanned sacks. No blankets, no lights, no bathroom, just a bed and a door. I always wished for more, even though my mind was unable to envision what exactly that would look like. This place was all I'd ever known or at least all I could remember, despite living in this place for the last twelve years. I focus on my memories, trying my best to remind myself what life was like before this place.


An electric shock permeated through my body. I instinctively grabbed the dark metal collar surrounding my neck, my head and torso beamed with pain. "Breathe, Coen, breathe". The pain subsided, leaving a tingling residue behind in its place. Even after all this time I still haven't gotten used to the feeling of the shocks. They didn't seem to be random but I'm still not sure what causes them, other then disobeying or wandering into unauthorized areas.

A hand, or maybe a leg, pounds on the pathetic wooden door to my cell, the sounds of it splintering heard clearly over the pounding.

"Get up, you freak, the Commandant is ready for his breakfast." A oaf posing as a respectable guard said as he forcefully slammed the door open. I could smell his breath from here, alcohol and something fowl, like a dead possum was stuck in his throat. The patchy facial hair and unkempt hair matched his personality. He wore a typical guard uniform, light leather slacks, a leather tunic with a breastplate over it, a sword at his left side, steel greaves and steel vambraces. The insignia covered the front and back of the breastplate. I still have no idea what it stands for.

"Well? Come on! He doesn't have all day!" He roared, a little spit spewing from his mouth, filling the room with a stench. I wasted no time getting up and walking out of my cell, lest I get a jolt from Sir Assmouth.


There was no shortage of other prisoners on my way to the kitchen. Skinny, tall, fat, muscular, varying ethnicities and hair color. The only things they did share were the colars around their neck and the blank expressions on their faces. It seemed like, from what I've seen, people were brought here from all around the world, a world I've never seen or known, only read or heard about. Emotions were a nonentity here, expressing emotion was a sure fire way to get a shock, a way to keep people placid, perhaps.

Going to the kitchen was the closest thing to joy I had ever experienced here. For one, it was clean, bright, organized, beautiful. Red marble floors, wide windows where the sunrise would flood the room in a light that was rare to see. Of course, there was also Michelee.

"Coen! Time for the arse's morning meal already?" Her voice was like pure sunlight, warming my skin and bringing me a sort of peace, even as vulgar as it was.

"Lower your voice or you're gonna end up in a hole the ground." I said with just a bit of sarcasm. She laughed, a sound that I would bottle and keep with me, if I could.

"A bloody hole in the ground is better then this piss pouring dump, int it?"

"Says the girl who works in the kitchen. Try chasing the Commandant around with your nose up his ass and then complain." Michelee was the only person in the kitchen, a small bit of freedom that other prisoners rarely ever had, but she was 19 now, already a year done with her Rite.

"Who's fault is that, aye?" Michelee sat a plate in front of me, filled with prime meats, corn, vegetables, and a glass of milk.

"It's not my fault he likes me, or loathes me, I can't really tell." I put my hands on the plate, ready to take off but instead I took a minute to examine my best friend. Her hair was dark, not like the night but more like the bottom of a lake at the height of the moon, it shimmered. Her tunic was special made to be longer, not just because she was cook and needed more protection from flying grease, but because of her large bust, stomach, and hips. The brown of her eyes were like a window into another world, not blank and expressionless but strong and happy.

"What're ya lookin at?"

"Oh come on, you know I find your irresistible." A smirk slowly crawling up my lips.


"Alright, ya love birds, knock it off! The Commandant is waiting for his breakfast so get your ass in gear!" Sir Assmouth barged into the room.

"Oi! Get yur stench out of er!" Michelee shouted at Sir Assmouth, waving a knife toward him. Her colar reacted, she screamed, clutching it tightly and falling to her knees.

"Michelee!" I knew my mistake before the words even finished coming out of my mouth. The shock took over my body, the plate in my hands shook violently, throwing food and milk across the floor. This was a stronger shock then I had felt in a while, my body couldn't hold itself up, I fell to the side, my face hitting the ground. Under the table I could see Sir Assmouth grab Michelee by the hair and pick her up.

"Oh, looks like chubs as lost a wee bit of weight, eh?" He let out a horrifying stream of laughter. The shock was wearing off, my hands grabbed onto the table and lifted myself up, almost standing. I could feel the anger in my veins, like lava rushing through my arms and legs, like it was about to erupt, making it's way to my head. Michelee just stayed still, lifted by her hair, knees just high enough off the ground so she couldn't sit. I could hear the sound of her hair ripping out slowly.

"Garland! What in blazes are you doing" A voice came from behind me, I tried to turn around but I couldn't keep my eyes off Michelee, I recognized the voice though.

"She mouthed off to me! Jus cause she's a cook now dudnt mean she can talk to me like that!" He shouted back. The voice from behind me moved around to Sir Assmouth.

"Let her go, Garland." The man insisted, authority in his voice. His short blonde hair was rare and made him stand out, as did the emerald color of his eyes. His jaw was lean and scruffy, much like his stature and build. It was Aiden.

"Bah! Wait till the Commandant ear's bout this." He grumbled, letting go of Michelee who thumped to the ground with a wimper. He left the kitchen, slouched with defeat.

"Are you all right?" He asked Michelee, grabbing her hand and lifting her up off the ground. My anger left me, for the moment, worry and relief settling in to replace it. I scrambled over to her, supporting her back with my hand.

"Better now, thank ya, Aiden." She responded, catching her breath.

"That worm, he'll regret doing that Michelee, I promise you that."

"Coen." Aiden looked at me, I stared into his eyes, feeling calmer as a result. I don't understand how or why, but it was like a waterfall washing over me, suddenly I was composed. "You'll do no such thing, unless you want to forfeit your life and hers." All I could do was shake my head in agreement.

"You need to get the Commandant his meal, or Garland will be back and I won't be able to stop him next time." Michelee stood up on her own, glancing over at the food laying across the floor.

"Good thing I made extra, eh?" She smiled, back to her usual deminor, just like that.

"I'll take care of her, Coen, please go."

"Thank you, Aiden." I smiled, grabbing an empty plate and refilling it with the Commandant meal.


The walk to the Commandant room was like going from a dungeon to a palace, probably because that's exactly what it was, a palace. Everything in the halls was either marble, silver, gold, or silk. Small electric lights beamed on either side of the hall, adding a red tint to it. Wooden doors were replaced with metal ones that opened by emitting a light on the persons body, either allowing them entry or not.

Two monstrous sized men, if you could call them that, stood in front of the door. They moved out of the way, one of them stepping in front of the door, which scanned him and a blue light signaled, letting us know he had premission to enter. The door slid open, disappearing into the wall.

Deep breath

The Commandant's room was one prisoners rarely saw, until their Rite. It was a masterpiece of architecture. There were statues made of sapphire and ruby, rare and valuable stones that were reserved for the rich and powerful. Curtains made of fine silk and animal skin rugs. The one he had now was what they call a lion. They're supposedly powerful and dangerous creatures, how fitting.

"It's about time." He declared as I walked into the room. "Garland told me about what happened in the kitchen. Tell that girl to keep her mouth shut if she wants to keep using it."

"Yes sir." I said, shifting into a docile state to ensure that he wouldn't retaliate. His beard was his defining feature. It was clean, combed, long. A status symbol. His eyebrows were large, giving his brown eyes a striking look. The cleft chin and broad shoulders made him even more impossing. A long sword sat on his desk, you could hear the sort humming of it as it vibrated the table.

I set the food down and bowed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"Yes, a boy is coming in, his Rite is today but considering what I've heard, it's not likely to go well. I want you to stay and watch, maybe it'll teach you what happens if you defy me, maybe you'll learn a valuable lesson about what to do when it's time for your Rite."

I simply bowed my head in acceptance and took a seat next to his desk. The chair was soft, like a cloud. Is this what he sleeps on? Material like this? I can't imagine how someone could be so angry all the time with a bed this soft.

The metal door opening interrupted my thought. A boy, who looked more like a man, tall and muscular, stepped through the door. Something was off about him, his eyes weren't blank or expressionless. They were wild, angry. This isn't going to end well. Aiden stepped in behind him. He gave me a sharp look, something was defiently off. He stepped up in front of the Commandant's desk.

"#156285, given name, Illand. Your Rite is to take place now. As customary, you may request a station and that will be taken into account. Should you be chosen for a Rite you will then enter the Trials, if you pass you will have earned your station. If not, you will sent to the mines or killed, your choice. Now, what station would you like to request?"


"Boy, what station do you request?" He demanded this time.

"Shove it up your ass." The boy said, gritting his teeth, disdain in his voice.

The Commandant stood still for a moment, no one in the room was sure what to do. He gave a quick look to Aiden, who fumbled with something in his pocket. An electric shook exploded over Illand's body. He screamed in agony, falling to his knees, his head in his hand. I've never seen a shock so powerful. The Commandant stood up from behind his desk, grabbed his sword, and walked in front of Illand.

"One more time, what station do you request."

Illand lifted his head, the shock still sending pulses across his body, and spit on the Commandant. The monstrous body guards ran toward him, Commandant's hand lifted, stopping their approach. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the spit from his ruby red coat.

"So be it." He unsheathed his sword, the humming growing louder as it slide out. The blade looked metal, except it was emitting a light shock, I can feel the vibrations from here. Blue lightning wrapped around it, pulsating and moving along it, like a dancer. I've never seen anything like it, none of the other guards had swords like this. It was beautiful.

The Commandant raised the blade in the air. The room grew tense, feelings of dread overwhelmed me. With a quick, almost unnoticeable motion, the sword dropped and sliced through Illand, shoulder to leg, cutting him in two, the lightning blue jolting across his body, arching into the ceiling and walls, spreading blood across the room. It was silent for a moment except for the humming of the blade, then the two halfs of Illand fell to the floor, pools of blood staining the lion rugs mane.

"So sad. Get him out of here, clean this place up. Coen, Aiden, with me." I sat there, stunned, eyes wide, unable to process what I had just seen. I've been here a long time, I've seen people die, guards stab prisoners, hang them, but nothing like this. No, this was gruesome.

"Coen." Commandant's words brought me back to reality. His hand was on my shoulder, he was on his knee. "Now you understand. Do not fail your Trials, declare your Rite, or end up like him." He lifted me onto my feet. "You have a bright future, if you're willing to take it."

I nodded, purely out of habit, because I didn't hear a word he just said. All I could see was a replay of what just happened, over and over in my mind. It wasn't fear though, it was something else but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Boy, snap out of it!" The Commendant yelled, his large rough hands making contact with my cheek. Shit, that hurt.

"I'm so sorry sir" is what I should have said but instead I said nothing, just turned my head toward his and stared into his eyes, they were dark but reflected like a mirror.

"I'm dissapointed. I thought you could handle seeing that. No matter, we are done for the day. Your Rite is in two weeks. I guess we'll see how this showing effects you, does it make you stronger or does it break you?"

I think he expected me to answer.

"Aiden, take him back to his cell." He growled followed with a huff and a sigh.

"Yes sir." Aiden bowed then walked behind me, putting pressure on my back with his hand, leading me out of the room.

The walk back was quiet, it was all I could muster just to keep from crying or screaming. I've seen bad things before, why is this effecting me so much?

"I got you something" Aiden said softly, his voice bringing me back from the depths of my mind. "It's called Brave New World by Aldous Huxley." He handed me the old and battered book.

"What's it about?" My words working again. We had just reached the outside of my cell.

"A world, a not so unfamiliar one." His eyes turned down and to the left, away from me, eyebrows pulled together and down. "It's old, very rare. Please take good care of it." He smiled, unconvincingly.

"Thank you, Aiden. I will." He opened the door to my cell.

"I'll come by and bring you some food soon. Read a bit, if you wish, we will talk later." He nodded and closed the door.

I sat on my old cot, this old book in my hands. I wonder how old it is? I opened it and began to read.

A squat grey building of only thirty-four stories...

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23 Reviews

Points: 1567
Reviews: 23

Mon Jul 01, 2019 12:03 am
Pomeroy wrote a review...

Hey Derek! Thanks for being my final review of review day. Let's so if I can pump this out in the eight minutes left, haha.

Firstly, this is a very intriguing story. I'm interested in the world you've created, you kept my attention entirely throughout, and I'll definitely be waiting for the next installment. It brings up so many questions: is this fantasy? Or a depiction of our future? Is there life outside of this place, or is the world just reduced to these installations where people are basically slaves to a higher power?

I do have a couple of questions, that maybe will be answered later on. Like, how did Coen and Aiden become friends? And why are those three less dead and emotionless than the others (other than the fact that they're the main characters, and to have a completely blank slate of a character would make a rather boring narrative, I suppose)?

Despite your author's note saying you haven't written in years, I think you did an amazing job. I loved your descriptions, especially when Coen first sees Michellee. Wanting to bottle up her laugh was such a sweet description, I loved it.

Some advice for dialogue: Maybe practice writing ONLY dialogue! And telling an entire story through that. Try to make it as natural of a conversation as possible, without turning into a monologue or exposition or anything.
Some advice for describing appearances and such: I honestly feel like you did a good job, but I totally understand what you mean about wanting to go about it in a more natural way. A tip I read somewhere suggested not to go all out and describe the entire appearance right away, but rather just describe what your main character is focusing on in that moment. You did this with Coen and the Commandant when he looked into his eyes, "They were dark and reflected like a mirror." That was a specific description of his eyes because Coen was already looking at him. When we see people, we don't immediately take in every single detail of their appearance, so maybe just progressively describe someone based off of what happens naturally at that moment.

All in all, I really enjoyed this! I'm going to end with just a couple of nitpicks. I didn't note all of them, just because I didn't want to overwhelm you with just all the typos or mistakes and such. So I would encourage you to just read through it carefully yourself to fix some of the mistakes in the latter half of the chapter.

" familiar." Should be "too familiar."

"...a inch away." Should be "an inch away."

"...then tanned sacks" Should be "than tanned sacks."

"...A oaf..." Should be "An oaf."

" a dead possum..." Opossum is spelled wrong (dont worry, I get this one wrong all the time).

"...filling the room with a stench." I personally think it would flow better if it say, "his stench."

"...colars around their neck..." Collars is misspelled. This same mistake is found in several other parts throughout the chapter.

"...ear's bout this." The apostrophe should be at the beginning rather than before the s. 'Ears.

As well as that, you tend to switch from present to past tense here and there all throughout. Which is a super easy mistake to make, so don't feel bad!!

Again, I loved this, and it's very impressively written for someone who hasn't written in several years, and was just kinda winging it.

I hope this review was helpful! Happy writing!

- Pom!

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1349 Reviews

Points: 70832
Reviews: 1349

Tue Jun 25, 2019 8:28 pm
JabberHut wrote a review...

Ohhhh, I like this.

And now I really wish I had read Brave New World. I understand it enough though to appreciate the reference. I wonder if you'll continue to use it throughout your story?!

You have a really neat world hear, honestly. I'm remarkably intrigued by what's going on, why they're here, what sets them apart from the guards and Commandant, let alone the outside. There's very clearly a story here unfolding in just the first chapter.

This really set everything up super well. You introduce the character and the setting, including Michelee who I simply adore. We move on to the Commandant almost immediately, get a feel for the Rite and how badly things can turn out. This is already an excellent seed to plant into the reader's mind, as the MC (Coen) will be ending up there in the near future, apparently. We can assume he'll be successful or at least advance further, so it's really good to know what happens if he fails.

There are some inconsistencies, but they don't stand out badly enough that you can't continue the story. I can tell you're a bit self-conscious about this, and you shouldn't be! Write with confidence 'cause you have a really intriguing story here and I'm interested to see where it goes. It's a first draft that's still being written, so it will naturally be a bit rough.

I don't have major nitpicks to chew on though, and that's what I typically point out. You established some strong characters already, you gave Coen motivation with Michelee, you have this wise Aiden character that we can trust, and you have this mysterious Commandant who, by the end, the reader also doesn't know whether to like him or not. It's not clear to us what the Commandant wants with Coen, but he likes something or dislikes something about him enough that he keeps Coen near. It's just very fascinating.

I also actually find it cool that this is never referred to as The Barn, like the chapter title calls it. It doesn't need to be said. The setting is clear enough to draw that relation.

It's interesting that there's this idea of remaining emotionless here, especially after seeing someone rage in the Rite scene. It's so difficult for humans to not feel emotion, so that alone is a conflict that they will have to battle over time. Seeing Coen feel all these emotions with Michelee, with the Commandant, with the Rite seen and Aiden -- he's got a lot to deal with here.

And I wonder why Aiden cares for Coen so much, too! There are plenty of other people around. We know the Commandant is drawn to Coen for some reason, but clearly Aiden is as well. There's something about this kid that keeps this intriguing!

Keep writing, friend! And welcome back! :D

Jabber, the One and Only!

Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we're quoting.
— John Green