Rise of the Flames Chapter 1

i love how it starts, i will only read a book if i understand the begining and it gets strait into the action and you can almost feel wha shes feeling in the story and i cat wait read the next chapter, its an amazing story, even tho ive only rea the 1st chapter! xx

Hello, this will be my first review on this site. Hope it helps.

First of all, I liked this first chapter. Definitely got and kept me hooked and reading, and though at points I felt like too much was happening, I say better to throw paint on the wall than to watch it dry. Everything can benefit from refinement, but all the pieces are here. I'll go scene by scene and let you know what I think: what I liked and what I think you could tinker with.

First scene,
the first thing that jars me about the first scene is MC talking to himself. Will this be explained later on? Is it significant to the MC? I think you were trying to go somewhere with MC talking to himself out loud as opposed to just in his head, but it did feel awkward to me as a reader. I really liked what you did in this scene with form following function, though. The way you wrote the scene fit well with the action of it. I felt how nervous and "spooked" the MC was through your use of action verbs and shorter, punchy sentences and loved the way you slowed down the scene after MC reached his house by describing the lighting cast by the streetlights and the stars. Compared to the action though, the end of the scene falls a little short. I agree with the other reviewer: the MC should have given the "stalker" more thought; it would have helped the pacing of the scene as well. After speeding through all that action, I wanted some sort of respite to think about all the information that had or hadn't been given to me. It could have been as simple as the MC trying to remember what the stalker looked like. Even if he can't call a clear image to mind, that is still something that both reinforces how spooked the MC is and gives the reader something to ponder instead of quickly closing the curtain on the scene. Just something to chew on Even though this scene didn't really give readers substantial information besides introducing the idea of a mysterious stalker, it did introduce the kind of action they can hopefully expect in the future.

Second scene,
Wow, the imagery at work in this scene: amazing. Agree with the reviewer before me that the paragraph describing the MC pulled through the "nothingness" was top-notch. I would have liked just a little more description and information regarding what seems like another dimension. You describe the room, but I didn't get as much feeling from that description. Is the room supposed to feel ominous or oppressive? Just describing the lighting in the room (dark? old, musty? hazy? bright?) will do a lot for the atmosphere. I like the pace at which you are introducing information to the readers though. I tend to sleep on long intervals of plot stagnancy. One specific sentence that I thought could improve on form-following-function:

%u201CTake care of our eavesdropper, Flametongue, burn him to ashes,%u201D my heart paused completely for a second. BOOM!

Hello! I’m Em and I am here to review your work. I apologize ahead of time for the intense nature with which I will attack your paper with my grammatical evils.

One foot in front of the other, quickly, quickly.
“One foot in front of the other, quickly, quickly”
‘Oh Jeez, you keep doing it, talking to yourself,’ I thought.
I swerved my head around, looking over my shoulder. Walking around another side street, I skirted the rows of houses lining the street. Every few times I glanced behind me I could see a man in a black jacket following me, but then when I looked back the next time- he was gone. A couple of times when I looked behind me I could see a man in a black jacket following me, but when I took a second glance he was gone.
“You’re imagining things, he’s not there,” I told myself, begging it to be true. Hopping a fence into the park, I cut through the thick of the forest to Hibbert Drive. Peering back again, I still saw nobody. My chest heaved in a relieved sigh; imaginary or real, I’d lost him. I walked less briskly now, catching my breath.
Crack! Find some way to offset this. With some sort of punctuation or something. It needs to stand out as an onomatopoeia and not just another of the MC’s thoughts
From somewhere to my left, off in the trees, a twig snapped. My heart thudded against my chest, it’s poundings echoing into my skull. I planted my foot how are you “off” if you have just planted your foot? There needs to be a transition action. Planted foot, push, then off... and I was off. Sprinting down the remainder of Hibbert, I took a left onto Mallory Lane, my arms pumping their fastest. I could hear my shoe soles clod “clod” means a dirt lump... maybe you could say “slap against”? onto the pavement with every stride. Not bothering to look back, I kept booking it. I swerved right and then right again two rights make a 180. Not a zigzag..., zigzagging across streets. Then I jumped a few fences and cut across enough back yards to bring me around to Redwood Street. Hunched over and catching my breath, I looked behind me once more but saw nobody. Street lights illuminated the pavement, and the stars cast a weak light onto the ground. I pulled out my phone: 11:30. I cursed at myself: it was a half hour past curfew. Stealing in through the back door, I paused to listen. The microwave was going in the kitchen which meant my mom was probably cooking in there. Around the corner in the living room, my dad was passed out on the couch, the TV still going. Tiptoeing up the stairs I threw my shirt into the clothes hamper and climbed into bed, my heart still racing.
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone- or THOUGHT I’d seen someone following me, and I was spooked. Last weekend I’d seen someone at the museum, and at the burrito place. He showed up Thursday after the movies, and today walking home from the pool. Trying to wrap my mind around the thought that I had a stalker was hard. ‘What did he want?’ when the MC asks him/herself questions you don’t have to put them in quotes. Also by this time i would like to know if the MC is a boy or girl. Or an it? I don't know. Just something. You want your readers to identify enough with your MC to like him/her but that’s hard to do when they know nothing about them. If they can’t connect with the MC, they’ll get bored and stop reading. Also why is MC so chill about the stalker? If someone followed me on 4 different occasions I’d probably have a mental breakdown. Or something. I would not be so calm in my thoughts and it would take me a while to fall asleep. I decided that eventually I’d have to do something about it, but not now, not yet. I shook off my nervous thoughts and threw myself into a restless sleep.
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I had never had such a bad headache in my life; it felt like someone was trying to tear my brain from my skull with a vacuum. Moaning pitifully, I sat up in bed.
“Oh Dear God,” I fell back in bed with a thump; alright, this is approx. the third time I’ve replaced a comma with a semi colon. I’m noticing that you often connect independent clauses with just a comma. This is not grammatically correct. I like your fragmenting thinking because it adds character but it would make me eternally happy if you would just connect these sentences with semicolons. Sorry for that mini-rant but it’s a pet peeve of mine... no way in hell was I getting out of bed right now. I laced my hands together behind my throbbing head and stared blankly at the ceiling. Patterns of lights played across my vision, dancing along the white-painted backdrop. My head felt deflated, like somebody let all of the air out of it, and every time I shifted in bed it took all my strength to keep from passing out; that’s how lightheaded I was. I called for my mom.
“Mom! I’m dying up here, bring me some killer meds, I need them.”
Looking back now, I talked like the biggest tool in the history of the world. While this is a great realization, it seems to be thrown in here randomly. You could do this: “...them,’ I shouted, ungrateful and unaware of what awaited me.” I apologize for the cheesiness of that... I rolled over slowly, waiting for an answer, but none came. It’s early Saturday morning in the middle of June, where the hell is she? I sat there for another fifteen minutes, then called out again,
“Jesus, mom! I’m insanely sick; I can’t even get out of the freakin’ bed!” Still, ten minutes later, no answer came. Now I was worried. Using every ounce of will power I had, I painfully stood up. My skull felt like it was about to blow up. I took one step and everything went pitch black for a second. Then, I started seeing stuff.
It was like my body was torn in two, or rather something was torn from my body. First I was there on the bed, then I was floating in the middle of my room, staring down at an unconscious me. My figure was now silvery and slimy, kind of a ghostly form. My limbs had trouble moving and seemed to disappear when they moved away from me. Down below, my body didn’t respond to my motions, instead it remained perfectly still. I wanted to float down, slide back into my real body, but some outside force was tugging at me.
My awkward spectral form started to wane. A blinding flash of light split the room, and I was tugged into nothingness. I sped through darkness and time, thousands of images rushing by. My head spun, the pictures twisting by in infinite spirals. It was like I was in the turning pages of a history book; masses of people ran past each dressed differently. Archaic buildings loomed briefly as I skirted them, speeding by through the dark. Numerous distinct languages floated through me, seemingly meshing together in the void. The colors merged into white and the blackness began to cease, tendrils of light chasing it back into the span I crossed. Wow. I really like this description. A+
Thump! same punctuation here as the other onomatopoeia
The ground had rushed to meet me as I landed painfully on my side. My face contorted in a grimace while I clutched my throbbing ribs. My fall had knocked the wind out of my me and it took a few moments to get my breath back. I took a quick look around, I was somewhere in a stone room. Unshapely walls rose around me, broken and crumbling. In this room’s center there was a shattered table and a granite slab to sit on.
“Crap, I’m going nuts. You’ve done it Ben, you’re really done it,” if I was hallucinating I knew it was bad. Either I was crazy sick, or I was epic crazy. At the far end of the room rubble was piled in front of an opening. The rubble was easy to move, but there was far too much of it to make quick work. I tried to take big armfuls and toss it to the side but there were too many tiny stones there for that strategy. Picking the big stones up one by one proved too slow, and trying to take stuff from the bottom just complicated things. I took a deep breath and tried to collect myself.
“Now is not the time. It will come soon enough, but the Dominion is not yet ready to be unleashed. Soon fire shall envelop all, soon, soon,” I held my breath as I listened to this strange voice. From the other side of the rubble a hissing drifted into this room. I pressed my ear closer, straining to hear more of this strange speaker.
“But what of you? Are you ready to take form yet?” another voice, this one trembling and more quiet quieter, spoke.
“No!” the first voice spoke again, and I heard a small squeak, “I can only take form once, and when I do so, it is permanent while I am alive, so I must make sure I am as powerful as ever!” there was a great pause, no sound was made. Fear began to spread into my limbs as I realized I was breathing loudly, and in the silence outside the two strangers had heard it.
“Take care of our eavesdropper, Flametongue, burn him to ashes,” my heart paused completely for a second.
BOOM! This is what I’m talking about! Some nice caps and bolding...
The rubble flew in a million directions as a fiery blast shook the room. I ducked and covered my head as the loose stones rushed past. The room began to heat up, trickles of heat licking at my neck. I peered up from my fetal position, a massive beast stood there, its red eyes fierce with hunger. It looked like a jungle cat, like a panther, but its fur was red. Just a little behind it, through the door formerly blocked by rubble I caught a glimpse of a black cloak passing. The red panther growled, its legs folding under it, readying to pounce. Steam hissed from its mouth and ears. I had never been so scared in my life. Don’t tell me you were scared. Tell me how the fear affected you. Were your knees knocking together? Did your heart stop? Did you pee in your pants?
“Please take me back, please take me back,” I muttered furiously, begging to go back to my own room. The jungle cat opened its mouth and a furious torrent of flames shot at me.
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Slam! I thumped back down onto my bedroom floor, my ears ringing. The world spun around me, a million different shapes and colors pirouetting across my dizzy mind. Nausea woke in the pit of my belly, begging to release my stomach’s contents back into the world. Dizzied, the urge overcame me and I hurled onto my bedroom floor. The barf vomit smelled disgusting, I needed to get out or I might have to hurl again. I stumbled hurriedly out of my door and onto the second floor landing.
“Not good, not good at all bro.” Fire! Flames licked at the ceiling and grasped around for anything that hadn’t caught ablaze yet. A wild spasm of flames sprang out in front of me, a cloud of ash rising into the air. I ducked down, my head still spinning furiously and painfully rolled down my burning staircase. In reality I probably didn’t break a single bone, but it sure felt like all 208 the average adult human has 206 bones. It’s not really a big deal because maybe not all the bones are fused or your MC has an irregular skeletal make-up. I’m just letting you know. bones in my body were irreparably shattered. I struggled to stand up, my brain ricocheting around my skull. ‘What the hell is happening?’
“Mom! Dad!” all I was thinking right now was: ‘I hope they’re OK.’ I crawled beneath the smoke and ash that drifted towards the ceiling and made for my front door. I gingerly reached out a hand to turn the doorknob, “Ouch!” My hand stung as the smoldering knob branded my palm.
“You’re an idiot bro,” I told myself. I wanted to scream, but the panic in my chest held back the yell. I pulled my shirt over my head, wrapping it around my hands. The knob was still hot when I touched it, but it didn’t burn my hand as I opened the door. Smoke ran out my door into the open air, the outside world vacuuming it away. Okay, you’re kind of all over the place right now with your thought processes. This makes sense if MC is panicking but “Mom! Dad!” are not the only thoughts. He just wondered what was happening. Also, I feel like the “bro” was forced. But that’s just me.
Fresh air relieved my contaminated lungs. Coughing fits purged the blackened breaths from my chest as I lay on the ground. As I stared at my burning house a feeling of helplessness overtook me. My hand groped in my pocket for my cell phone- nada. Regretfully I stood up, every muscle in my legs screaming in protest of my action.
“Jesus… Mary… and Joseph,” I held my breath, praying that this was not happening. The red-furred panther stood stoically on my tree lawn, teeth bared, “If I make it through this I’m joining the track team,” I muttered to myself as I found my second wind. My sore limbs moaned as I bounded away, sprinting my fastest. As I ran I made a huge racket, hoping someone from the neighborhood would wake up and come to my aid. The night was still dark; the stars only dim specks in the horizon, the moon hidden in a bundle of clouds. The thing was gaining on me, whoa! When did it start chasing the MC? with every one leap it took, I took three strides. My lungs burned with the effort, running low on air. With every strained breath my pace slowed and the thing got even closer. My foot caught an uneven sidewalk tile, the ground scraping across my skin as I fell against it, exhausted and panting. Rolling over weakly, my life flashed before my eyes as the panther pounced. Rows of sharp white teeth neared my face as the red beast flew through the air.
“Rymja,” a deep, harsh voice split the slideshow of my life that rolled past my eyes. A flash of lightning illuminated the night and struck the pouncing beast with a resounding crack. I scrambled out of the way, still expecting the downed beast to pounce again. The air sizzled with heat as the panther disintegrated and a cloud of black particles rising from its vanishing body.
“W-who th-the he-ll are… you?” I couldn’t help but stutter, I was petrified. Standing at the end of my street was a large man cloaked in black. He began to walk toward me, his dark figure blending into the night, disappearing for a second. With a crack he appeared before me, a hand extended to help me up. After helping me struggle to my feet he wiped his huge hands across my back, patting off the dirt. Stubble clung stubble is not grime. It doesn’t cling. It sprouts from things. to his cheeks and down through his chin and neck. His hair was midnight black and hung in a ponytail down his back. Dark eyes dominated his face, almost completely devoid of color. nice imagery
“I cannot ask you for much at this moment, but can you walk?” his voice was gravelly and rough. I tried to reply but my voice seemed stuck so I simply nodded. I struggled to keep up with his long strides, my feet still very much sore from running for my life.
“Uh hey, dude. Uhm, do you think we could find some clothes first. I don’t think wherever we’re going would appreciate me showing up in nothing but a pair of boxers.”
“That might not be such a bad idea,” the guy waved his hand and his flasher coat turned into a three-piece suit with a purple tie, “What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe just a t-shirt and a pair of shorts?” I asked hesitantly. I was rewarded with a white pair of shorts and a Duke University Basketball T-shirt. Shoes magically appeared on my feet, a comfortable pair of tenni’s. “Not bad, how’d you know I liked the ‘Devils?”
“You’d be surprised on how much I know about you Mr. Black.” Aha! Finally, we learn MC is a he! A Mr. Black. I suspected he WAS a he but I wasn’t sure...
“Whoa, slow down there,” my heart started beating, “You’re saying you’re my stalker?”
“Not stalker, protector. Times are becoming dangerous Benjamin, it would not do for us to lose you.”
“It’s Ben,” I corrected him, “Who’s us, what’s so danger- well other than fire breathing animals trying to kill me. I’m not going anywhere until you fill me in.”
“The less you know right now, the better.”
“At least tell me your name.”
“Soloman.”