z

Young Writers Society



Captured Fangs

by Lilicia


This is my entry for Amon360's vampire contest. Please tell me honestly what you think, and rip it to shreds while you're at it :D (By the way, if you get a sense of deja-vu, I posted this a while ago in 'other fiction', but it wasn't being rewieved and I figured it wasn't the best place for this kind of story -sorry if I'm breaking some unknown rule...) Critiques are very welcome. Thank you!

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The thick, endless canopies of the forest stood still to watch the young woman darting between the trees trunks. She moved with agility, grace and slender that no human could possibly achieve, and so quiet were her footsteps that the dust rising beneath her feet was the only warning that she was coming - that she was hunting. That she was hungry.

Her deep purple eyes flickered back and forth - bloodshot and ready. To any slight sound they would narrow, until they were but tiny, red slits on her smooth, delicate face. Her red lips, stained with old, rusting blood, were occasionally licked by her thin, forked tongue – which, though pink, had random patches of green colour on its surface. The striking orange hair that tumbled messily down her back fell frequently over her eyes, provoking her to tear it out with sharp, slim fingers.

You knew where Petra had been running when you saw a trail of orange hair, lying stiff on the mud.

Suddenly, a high pitched wail filled the forest. Startled, Petra turned - her large fangs already revealed, cutting into her bottom lip. Blue blood dripped down her chin, only turning red when it slid off her naked body and fell to the ground. Ignoring the blood – for she did not feel the cut – she looked about her, trying to see who had made the unearthly sound that had shattered the perfect silence of the forest. Slowly, she took a step forward. Her ears pricked up, ready to hear the quietest hiss, and her fingers twitched nervously. Yes, Petra was a predator – probably the most dangerous, most cunning, and most effective – but that didn’t stop there being even bigger predators around, who could kill her in an instant. She could not always win. Ever since her birth, (her birth as a vampire, that is), she had always been frightened of the day she would encounter something stronger than herself – stronger and wiser. So now, even though convincing herself that the wail meant nothing, her eyes were wide with fear, and the gleaming white venomous fangs continued cutting deeper into her lip. She could not run. She could not hide. She was too frightened to do anything more than stare.

The wail came again, only this time louder – and nearer. Petra froze, aware that this was the first time she had ever felt true fear. Another wail sounded her ears, and another, until she could take it no longer. Whatever was happening – whether it was a human who was wailing because they were being chased by a monster, or the monster itself was making such noises – she needed to be out of the forest. A flash of anger crossed her, for this was her territory, her hunting grounds. The best of the hunting grounds, she knew, for many a time humans chose this place to hike. It did not belong to anyone else – she had made this perfectly clear by surrounding it with her venom to ward off any other of her kind. If the monster here is of my kind, she thought. With a flicker of movement, she fled – running so fast she was almost invisible to the human eye. She headed toward the north, towards her cave, knowing that she would be safe there. Never in her long existence had anybody been able to pass the barriers of fire that she had set up at the entrance – apart from herself, of course, for she had the ability of taming flames. A talent she had had all her life.

Soon, even though it was still five kilometres off, the edge of the forest soon came to her magnificent view. She smiled, knowing that soon, she would be safe.

But, for the first time in her life, Petra was wrong.

Something grabbed at her hair, making her screech in fright. She tried to run from the steady grip, but, just as she was getting away, a hand clamped firmly on her shoulder. The long nails dug into her skin, and, though she felt nothing, she could already see a tint of blue swelling on her arm. Suddenly, a woman – a human – appeared in front of her, its eyes gleaming with delight. Petra, out of instinct, tried to crouch, a hiss escaping her lips. Soon, the sweet aroma of human blood filled the air, making Petra cry in distress, for she was being gripped so tightly that, however much she tried, she could not run forward to sample this delicious smell. The cry of distress soon turned into a wail, and then a scream. This was surely the worst form of torture. And whoever it was, clutching her so very tightly, had such strength that they surely could not be a mere human themselves… so why were they protecting the species? They were for eating, were they not? An essential in the diet of all worthy predators. Why was she being deprived? Who could possibly be doing this to her? Suddenly, the human spoke. Her voice shocked Petra, for, though she had encountered many humans before, she’d only heard their horrified screams, followed by their whimpers and squeals as she slowly took more blood out of their weakening bodies. Never before had she hear a human speak normally. Her voice sounded quiet, unclear, and feeble to Petra’s ears. So eatable

“This is definitely one of them. Bind her, will you? She looks like she’ll savage me any second, and it’s getting quite threatening.” As she spoke, wafts of sweet smelling breath floated to Petra’s twitching nostrils. Petra screamed, lashed her arms out while the woman darted back. Her arms were caught in a flash by her captor, and then tied as the human had instructed. The rustling leaves of the trees grew silent, watching. They did not wish Petra to be the predator she was, but they certainly did not will her this fate. It was cruel. As the vampire yelled, her fangs larger and more threatening than ever, the human laughed – and though she could not see it, her captor, too, was smiling.

“She certainly will be hard to tame,” her captor said quietly. Petra gasped, for this was a voice she knew – a voice of her fellow kind. The voice of a vampire.

Why? Oh God, why?

She turned her head to the large vampire, confused and horrified. It was a man, an old man, with a cunning grin and a fluff of white hair. His eyes were large and grey, his skin looking stretched on his oval face. Under his cracked, red lips, she could see the unmistakable dazzling white gleam of fangs. But what was he doing with a human – why was he not eating her – and what of these strange words he was speaking? What was there about her to be tamed? She hunted only once a week, kept to her boundaries, made sure humans in the streets did not see her. She was good. As far as she was concerned, she had done no wrong. She eventually found her voice.

“What do you speak of? Why are you doing this, fellow one?” To her relief, she was very good at covering up the fear in her throat. She spoke as usual, her voice sounding like bells ringing daintily on a summer morning. Perhaps if she was polite to this monster of a vampire, she would be let go. From behind her, the vampire laughed.

“You call me fellow one. I am not like you at all! Do you not see it is wrong to hunt humans? Do you not understand what I speak of, when I ask for you to be tamed? Look at yourself. You are naked, your lips bleed, and you kill humans! It is wrong!”

Petra was stung by his words. Yes, she was naked – but was not everyone else of her kind? She only noticed now that the so-called vampire holding her wore human clothes. Disgusted, she turned away. Who was he to tell her what she was, and what she should do? Sudden fury overcame her.

“What is so wrong to be naked? What is so wrong to eat what you desire? My lips bleed out of the fear of hearing your cruel wails, which I am sure was but a ruse to capture me! I live as any other should! It is you, who holds me back from this human, denying your true self, who needs the taming!” she shouted. Silence followed her statement. She tried to break free once again, but the grip on her shoulders tightened, and the rope that bound her wrists would not slacken. She saw blood forming a red pool on the ground from where his nails were still digging so deeply. “Let me go!” she yelled.

“No. You’re coming with us. You need to learn to live in harmony with us humans, or else we will burn you at stake,” the human said, in that feeble voice that brought such sweet air…

“You humans aren’t even to know of our existence!” Petra roared, her fury made worse by the desire for this woman’s blood.

“But I am an exception. I can be trusted,” she replied, smiling coyly.

“Let us go, the hour is late,” the vampire said, already moving forward, forcing Petra to move with him. The human followed behind, out of view of Petra’s fangs, bared so readily at her.

After many hours of walking, sticking to the muddy forest edge so as not be spotted, Petra felt exhausted. But not exhausted because she was tired – exhausted because she was being forced to walk so slowly. Usually, she would run – only stopping to walk if something in the area caught her attention, as the high pitched wail had earlier that day… She tried not to think of her stupidity, instead trying to judge how much further she’d have to walk like this. A gust of wind blew her hair forwards, and a few strands of hair landed over her eyes. Forgetting that her hands were bound together, she tried to rip the strand out – but of course, she couldn’t. A great, powerful creature, lost to her own kind and prey, she thought bitterly. She tensed, angry. Her forked tongue peeked out, licking her lips constantly. Suddenly, her eyes fell upon a cave; much like her own but rather much smaller – and certainly without the splendour of flames dancing around at the entrance. Petra smirked, smug, for she was very proud of her home territory, and knew that no one’s home could match up to her own. The smugness was soon lost to fear, however, for she was pushed into the dark cave, and, ignoring her hisses of protest, pushed and tied into a chair. The human stepped to the corner of the unfurnished, damp cave, and leaned against the wall. The aged vampire, however, stepped into Petra’s view.

“You may not realise it, woman, but you are the last and most powerful vampire existing. You alone kill five hundred humans a year. So many lives wasted, to you,” he snarled.

Petra looked at him, still trying to take in what he said. Forget the fact about how many humans she ate (or rather, drank) – but what he had said about her being the last vampire existing… This couldn’t be true. There had been so many vampires, trying to come onto her territory, only fifty years ago. What had happened to them all?

“You say I am the last vampire…” She needn’t say more. The other vampire’s expression turned to fury.

“You wonder what happened to the rest? Those bloodsuckers weren’t as hard to find as you. We got them all. Most of them refused to oblige to our demands – to stop drinking human’s blood, and were therefore burned to dust. Those who kill humans are not needed in this world, I tell you. There were three that obliged to our rules, and they now live their lives under our watchful eyes, eating animal and suchlike. My human companion and I,” he said, pointing towards the woman, standing in the corner – the scent of her blood diverting Petra’s attention. “We decided that enough was enough. It is wrong to kill. My friend here showed me that humans are like us – yes, they have a few disadvantages, but nothing serious. We realised that over ten hundred thousand are killed each year to the filthy race of vampires. I know I, myself, am one, but I am good. I am clean. My lips are not covered with rusting blood,” he continued.

Petra was furious. She would not let this patronising vampire tell her that she was doing wrong by living her life as any should.

“Never will I give up my life to you! Never will I stop eating what I like to eat! I cannot believe what you are saying. You are not clean, you are afraid! You’re afraid of yourself! And as for your human over there… She is just protecting her race, it is normal. But you have nothing to do with her race! I know you thirst for her blood!” To this, the human gasped, but her vampire didn’t seem perturbed.

“You speak nonsense. Tomorrow, you will begin your lessons on how to hunt animals. Never again will you kill another human being!” he shouted.

“I refuse! You are but a madman,” Petra cried.

“Then you shall be burned. Are you sure you want that?” he asked sarcastically. To his surprise, Petra nodded.

“I would rather die than give up my soul to you!”

“Then I shall go and set up the stake!” He walked out of the cave, turning his head back continuously, waiting for Petra to give in. Instead, she stood her ground, her lips firmly closed.

Two minutes later, the old vampire was still outside. Petra, trying to soothe her shaking hands – for she, even though a vampire, had a heart – and was very frightened of the pain that she would have to endure. Of course, she could not become a vampire who ate only animals – it was impossible. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed in the matter of the day. Just this morning, she’d been hunting for the humans that the mad old vampire had decided to live like. Now she was facing a painful death, for being what she was. How unfair it all seemed! Her eyes flickered towards the woman, still standing in the corner – obviously keeping an eye on Petra so that she wouldn’t escape. Suddenly, just as Petra was thinking how unfair this was, a thought rushed into her mind. It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to die. That was all the encouragement she needed. It was true what the old vampire had been saying – she was powerful. She let all her anger and frustration sink to her fingertips, using the strength to slacken the thick, thick ropes that bound them together. She put her mind to her wrists – seeing them separating in her mind’s eye. Break, binds, break. Just as her strength was almost gone, she heard a snap. She moved her hands to her face, delighted, slowly fingering the black bruised skin on her wrists. It didn’t hurt. Quickly, she pulled a few strands of hair out of her eyes, happy to be liberated. She untied the complicated knot binding her ankles with skilled fingers, followed by the knot on her chest, tying her to the chair. Her eyes flickered to the human, who, seemingly unaware of what Petra was doing, was gazing at the wall – deep in thought. The vampire almost felt sorry for her – there was a predator on the loose, and she wouldn’t be able to run away from it… All sympathetic feeling washed away, however, as Petra stood up, and a strong whiff of fragrant blood came flying her way, floating up her nostrils. This was food – and it smelt good.

It was quick. She flew towards her, quick enough to see the look of terror in the human’s eyes. She bit her cheek, sampling. Delicious. Absolutely delicious. She clamped her prey’s mouth, to stop the screams, and bit her neck.

Suck. Bite. Nibble. Suck, drink. Drink, smell…

Soon, the body lay on the floor, empty of content and completely lifeless. Without one look back, sucking her lips, Petra dashed, her hair flying.

She rushed past the vampire, who, making the stake, turned up his head in time to see Petra flying into the trees, escaping. He got up, ready to chase, but got distracted by worry of his human friend –for he had quite grown to love her. Rushing inside, he wept in horror on seeing her lifeless body, forgetting to follow the vampire for his grief. But he would find her one day, and then it would be her against him…

Petra ran through the trees once more, free, alive.

I will always survive, she thought. I’m the most powerful vampire on Earth, and never will I cease to exist.

Around her, the trees welcomed her presence, whispering between themselves.

A charming vampire, they said. The perfect predator.


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197 Reviews


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Mon Aug 10, 2009 1:50 pm
Jetpack wrote a review...



You asked for shredding. I tried. :P

She moved with agility, grace and slender that no human could possibly achieve


I don't think 'slender' is a noun. Having just googled it, Merriam-Webster agrees that 'slenderness' is the noun and 'slender' the adjective; if you still want to use the word, you'll have to go with 'slenderness', which will change the flow a little bit.

Other than that, the opening isn't bad. I like the image of the trees standing still.

Her deep purple eyes Eyes are frequently described as 'deep'. If you can get around it, I would do so, and maybe replace 'purple' with a more vivid synonym that isn't violet, since that too is overused in relation to eyes. flickered back and forth - bloodshot and ready. [s]To[/s] At any slight sound they would narrow, until they were but tiny, red slits on her smooth, delicate face. Her red You've already used red, so you can replace one of them. lips, stained with old, rusting blood Nice image. Well, not nice, but you catch my drift., were occasionally licked by her thin, forked tongue – which, though pink, had random Nooo. I have a bit of an aversion to 'random' in prose. It's too often used colloquially now to be of any merit in a piece of writing, in my opinion. patches of green colour on its surface. The striking orange hair that tumbled messily down her back fell frequently over her eyes, provoking her to tear it out with sharp, slim fingers.


I don't usually quote whole paragraphs, but here my point is recurring. You don't experiment with colour synonyms: everything is "red" or "orange" or "pink". At one point you mention 'striking orange hair' - 'orange' is not a particularly striking word, but a very mundance one. At the moment, we can't just assume her hair is striking: either cut it or back it up. This happens later on too. I wouldn't dive into a thesaurus right now; that's not what I'm getting at, because basic adjectives are fine sometimes, just not all the time, and certainly not all crammed into one paragraph like this.
As a whole, this paragraph is not very interesting. You could maybe use a few more metaphors or similes to bring this vampire's image across to us. It's partly to do with the colours, but the language is also a little too simplistic. The detail of the rusting blood, I liked, and we don't often see this sort of vampire - wild - thanks to Twilight, so build on it.
I've inserted any other criticisms I have of this paragraph in bold. Sorry it seems like I'm totally homing in on such a little part of the story, but this is the description of the MC so I think it deserves attention.

So now, even though convincing herself that the wail meant nothing, her eyes were wide with fear, and the gleaming white venomous fangs continued cutting deeper into her lip.


This is a very awkward end to the sentence. You're documenting her movement rather than writing a story. You could probably cut the whole of the clause from "and the gleaming" 'til the end of the sentence.

surrounding it with her venom to ward off any other of her kind. If the monster here is of my kind, she thought.


The 'if' implies a result or something. I would change her thought into a question. Is the monster here even of my kind?

Never in her long existence had anybody been able to pass the barriers of fire that she had set up at the entrance – apart from herself, of course, for she had the ability of taming flames. A talent she had had all her life.


Your narrative is losing me again. I've read this through a couple of times already and I like your story, but you don't keep me particularly interested. The big blocky paragraphs don't help, but your writing itself is quite slow, and quite uniform. The reason I picked these sentences out is because you make taming flames sound uninteresting, unremarkable.
You can change tone every so often to avoid this: speed it up and slow it down. If you're going to describe these wails for two hundred words, to use another example, we want to hear them and then feel Petra's fear.
Imagine as the wails are beginning. Maybe they're slow to penetrate Petra's mind, which is focussed on hunting, but you can describe them, slowing down the pace to let us hear what's so terrible about them. Fear, on the other hand, is not a slow feeling. It makes you jumpy and alert, so you can shorten sentences, make your writing a bit more jagged to fit with the mood.
Obviously I don't expect you to do all of that, because I certainly don't think about my writing that carefully, but even when you're writing in third person you don't have to restrict yourself to such an impartial, distant voice. Experiment a little bit.

The paragraph in which Petra is captured is better. Her thoughts come fast and agitated, and though the writing around it is still fairly slow, the thoughts help to bring us closer to her character. I love the idea of such a wild, animalistic vampire, and I think you've thought that out well. However, you could separate it out into several paragraphs, since the whole thing is again one big block.

Why? Oh God, why?


Would she really say 'oh God'?

The description of the elderly vampire is like a repeat of Petra's description earlier, right down to the order in which you describe his features, and I have the same criticisms. Again, though, the introduction of some of Petra's thoughts is a welcome insight into her character.

The dialogue, I liked a lot. Even though it is very formal, you manage to pull off the lack of contractions well and it was believable, for me. When you told us that Petra was naked, it genuinely was a shock to us, and even as we as readers were digesting that, your character was arguing against our own opinion. This was my favourite part of the whole story.

The smugness was soon lost to fear, however, for she was pushed into the dark cave, and, ignoring her hisses of protest, pushed and tied into a chair. The human stepped to the corner of the unfurnished, damp cave, and leaned against the wall. The aged vampire, however, stepped into Petra’s view.


Cut the second 'however'.
I am really nitpicking now, since you've started to give us more to chew on and I can better appreciate Petra's character.

You lose the pacing again later, though. Petra's escape is not quite fast enough for me, and her thirst for the human woman is not described well enough for us to feel her thirst for blood. Though it's still better than the beginning, I think you might want to go through the ending and see if you can tighten the writing and let us feel Petra's strength and anger. At the moment, it's described, but I didn't feel it as much as I think I could.



So, I'm finished. To summarise:

Characters. I think I've been through them as much as I can. Certainly, at the beginning I couldn't feel Petra's character at all. She needs to be wild then too, as she is when you get into your stride as a writer, later in the piece. I love the idea of a feral vampire - you can really bring the bloodthirsty appetite home to us, though, in a way I don't think you did here.
There seems to be little opportunity to expand on the elderly vampire's character, except in the paragraph of description, which I've already said you need to look at, in my opinion. The human woman just needs a bit of fleshing out, so that we can see that she's only trying to be strong and that she is quite afraid underneath. At the moment, she randomly swings between the two.

Plot. Not my strong point. I liked the story, but that's probably all the advice I can give you. In my experience, plot is just relative to the pacing, which I think I've spoken about enough.

Grammar. I didn't remark on it too much. You were fairly free of punctuation errors, as far as I could tell, but go through with a fine-toothed comb to spot a few grammar slip ups. Mostly you just seem to use the wrong word in the wrong context.

I won't bore you by repeating myself too much. Writing-wise, I would recommend you just tighten a few bolts here and there and work on moving away from the simple style you employ. I think that's supposed to come with practice, though, so you're already on the right track. Other than that, I've made all the comments I want to.

I hope my review helps! PM me if you have any questions, and good luck with the contest.




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Sun Aug 09, 2009 4:29 pm
KayKel16 wrote a review...



She moved with agility, grace and slender that no human could possibly achieve, and so quiet were her footsteps that the dust rising beneath her feet was the only warning that she was coming - that she was hunting.


The first part of the sentence, where you're giving the qualities on how she moves, there should be another comma after grace.

Her deep purple eyes flickered back and forth - bloodshot and ready. To any slight sound they would narrow, until they were but tiny, red slits on her smooth, delicate face. Her red lips, stained with old, rusting blood, were occasionally licked by her thin, forked tongue – which, though pink, had random patches of green colour on its surface. The striking orange hair that tumbled messily down her back fell frequently over her eyes, provoking her to tear it out with sharp, slim fingers.


This description is amazing, I really like it. There's nothing I can see that's wrong with it, just giving you props on it (:

Ever since her birth, (her birth as a vampire, that is), she had always been frightened of the day she would encounter something stronger than herself – stronger and wiser.


I'm unsure about the parentheses, I'm thinking they shouldn't be there. This could just be the way I write, but ignore it if you are fully happy with it.

I got too interested in your story to look for any more mistakes, it's really good. The descriptions are amazing. Keep writing, but I found very few punctuation mistakes (:





Nouns can verb very well actually, they verb better than some verbs do.
— winterwolf0100