Young Writers Society

Pandora’s Tears

Chapter Three
-- Officer Harding

Date: 14th August, 2011


The house was surrounded by a dozen-or-so men, most clad in the brown leathers of the town guard. Although armed, they looked at ease, and the quiet muttering of their conversations carried a sense of detachment. A single demon straying into an urbanised area wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, and the guard had been through such situations countless times before.

An ambulance sat by the road. Two doctors checked over a young shell-shocked couple slumped in portable chairs. One of the guardsmen - an Officer, judging by the cap he wore - talked with the man, occasionally nodding and scribbling in his notepad.

The Officer looked up, and his eyes caught sight of the newly arrived Janus, Peterson and Barvd. He said something to the man, patted the woman on the shoulder, and walked over.

‘Sergeant Janus, it’s good to see you and your men,’ he said as he approached. ‘Every gun is appreciated here.’

‘Thank you, Officer. But you appear to have me at a disadvantage - you know my name, but I don’t believe I know yours.’

‘Of course, I’m sorry. I am Officer Harding, the commanding officer of Great Wyncote’s town guard.’

Janus nodded. He hadn’t received an official briefing for the patrol, by Drace had mentioned the key figures, including Officer Bruce Harding. He was a well-built man in his late forties, and the remnants of a Scottish accent tinged his words. Like many ranking town guard officials, he was ex-military.

Presumably he’d got Janus’ name from the Governor.

‘This is Private Barvd, and Private Peterson.’ Janus indicated to each in turn. ‘So, Officer, what’s the situation?’

Harding gestured to the surrounded house. ‘A single demon has found its way into this building. We’re not far from the countryside here, and the occasional demon straying into the outer layers of the town is relatively common. It’s a textbook case, and shouldn’t be any sort of problem.’

‘I saw walls blocking the way into the town at the entrances. Don’t they run all the way around?’

‘I’m afraid not, our budget won’t allow it,’ Harding said. ‘We found a smashed-in door around the back, so we assume that’s how the demon got inside. A Mister and Missis Gilmore live in the house, no children.’

Janus nodded to the couple being attended to beside the ambulance. ‘Is that them over there?’

‘Yes. They’re both quite alright - they fled when they realised they had a demon in with them, and phoned us.’ He sighed. ‘Unfortunately, Missis Gilmore’s brother was visiting, and he still hasn’t left the house, nor have we seen any sign of him. In all honesty, I don’t think he’s survived. I’ve seen too many cases like this to be hopeful.’

‘I’m sure that’s not what Missis Gilmore would like to hear.’

‘Aye. But it seems she’s figured out as much on her own.’

Janus glanced again over at her. She was too far away to make out her facial expression, but the way she sagged into her chair, and stared endlessly at the dirt encrusted tarmac hinted at the lack of hope Harding prescribed to her.

He brought his gaze back to Harding. ‘Officer, how many men do you have available?’

‘I currently have ten men under my command.’

Janus frowned. ‘Currently?’

‘I had sixteen an hour ago, but the Governor withdrew six of them to his residence when the report came in. He has another twelve of the guard permanently stationed there also.’

‘Bastard,’ muttered Barvd, his quiet voice almost inaudible. Harding didn’t appear to catch the comment.

‘That’s a rather severe abuse of power,’ remarked Janus.

‘It’s not my place to question the Governor,’ Harding said. ‘Nor is it yours.’

‘So they say.’

Harding’ face turned hard, and Janus wondered if it was disdain at him, or at the Governor, that sculptured his features. To be frank, he didn’t much care.

‘Officer, I’d like to make a request,’ Janus said.

‘Go ahead.’

‘I’d like for my men and I to be the ones to go in.’

Harding squinted at him. ‘This isn’t your fight, you know that?’

‘Look at it this way, Officer: if we go in, there’s no chance of you losing any more of your men. Besides, the entire reason we’re slugging around this town is to help protect it, so it is very much our fight,’ Janus said. ‘And I do happen to recall you saying every gun was appreciated,’ he added.

‘You don’t need to try and convince me,’ Harding chuckled, his face relieved of its scowl. ‘I was just surprised.’ His voice became serious again. ‘I’m sure the three of you will have no trouble with a single demon anyway.’

‘Damn right,’ grunted Peterson. Everyone turned to look at him.

Janus said, ‘Very good, Private.’

‘Thank you sir.’

‘The demon was last seen on the ground floor, in the dining room. Mister Alba was in the toilet on the first floor when his sister and her husband fled. If he’s still alive, make sure you keep him that way.’

‘Naturally.’ He turned to Barvd and Peterson. ‘You heard the man, only fire when you’re sure of your target.’ He turned from them, and walked towards the house. ‘Alright, guns off safety. We’re sticking together for this one; we’ll either flush the bastard out for the guard, or else we’ll take it out ourselves.’




(((*stabs chapter* I think I'm just gonna scrap this and re-write it from scratch.)))

I've made a few minor edits for Chapter Two.

Sureal wrote:Thankyou so much Imp. ^_^

I'll get around to editing this as soon as I find the time (about a week from now), as well writing the third chapter.

Just one comment: Barvd's one of, if not the, best solider in the platoon (as hinted at in Chapter One), hence Janus' respect for him. But he's also very quiet and withdrawn - his silence throughout much of this chapter was intentional.

Thankyou so much Imp. ^_^

I'll get around to editing this as soon as I find the time (about a week from now), as well writing the third chapter.

Just one comment: Barvd's one of, if not the, best solider in the platoon (as hinted at in Chapter One), hence Janus' respect for him. But he's also very quiet and withdrawn - his silence throughout much of this chapter was intentional.

'Lo again Sureal.

I suppose I'll head back through on a line-by-line, where it's called for, but being dialogue for the most part, that ought to move quickly. You've changed-up pace here though, if not too dramatically, noticeably - but it seems a good lull and you've fleshed out some characters, or at least their relationship to each other.

‘Not a bad job, this,’ said Petterson, his gun slung over his lean shoulders. ‘I was getting sick of spending all day every day searching those damn woods. Nice to be able spend my time in civ’lisation.’

Janus look at the Private, then nodded. ‘Probably,’[s] he agreed.[/s]

When they first set out, Janus made it clear to Petterson and Barvd that he wanted a casual and friendly atmosphere whilst they patrolled. The prospect of conforming to military discipline in what was already destined to be a painfully boring routine did not appeal to him.

I’m happy here,’ Barvd said in a small voice.

Janus,’ Petterson said, ‘how old are you? Nineteen? Twenty?’

‘I’m eighteen.’

‘And already a Sergeant? That’s impressive, y’know that?’

Janus squirmed inwardly; he hated praised - he never knew how to react to it. Supposedly he should be used to it by now, but it still felt unnatural. ‘So they say,’ he grunted.

‘You’re one of the youngest soldiers in the platoon, and yet second-in-command.’

‘You’re one of the youngest soldiers in the platoon, and yet second-in-command.’

Janus shrugged. ‘There are other eighteen-year-old Sergeants. It’s just the way the force works. Pick out any young boy or girl that shows a sign of promise and drill them and test them. Those that make it through to Sergeant can be the poster boy of the British Army - it lets them say, “look, this young lad made it up the ranks, why not you too?” I’m not really special in anyway, I’m just another form of propaganda.’

‘You’re one of the youngest soldiers in the platoon, and yet second-in-command.’

‘Oh,’ said Petterson. He almost looked disappointed.

A momentary, awkward silence spilled into the still air

‘That’s not to say I couldn’t kick your arse though,’ Janus said, probing the waters with a slight joke.

‘Oh yeah?’ Petterson said, ‘You wanna try that one on for size, little man?’

Barvd stopped walking and turned around to face his two companions. Janus and Petterson slowed to a halt a second later. Scratching his prematurely-grey hair, Barvd said to Petterson, ‘The Sergeant’s technique trumps your size advantage.’ He shrugged and started walking again. ‘I’ve watched you both in training, and I defiantly think the Sergeant would win.’

After all, there were few people in the army he respected more than Barvd.

‘I memorised the map.’ He coughed. ‘Private Petterson, Private Barvd - follow my lead; triangle formation. Guns on safety, and only fire on my order.’

The two soldiers saluted. ‘Yes sir,’ [s]they said in unison.[/s]

Sureal wrote:Imp: I tried jigging that section around in all the different ways I could think (including the way you suggested), but none of them really 'worked'. At the moment, I think it does what I wanted too, so I'll leave it for now (although I'll probably come back to it at a later date.

I've made some small alterations to chapter one (mostly cutting out useless 'had's), and have written chapter two ^_^.

Pandora’s Tears

Chapter Two
-- Great Wyncote

Date: 14th August, 2011


‘Not a bad job, this,’ said Petterson, his gun slung over his lean shoulders. ‘I was getting sick of spending all day every day searching those damn woods. Nice to be able spend my time in civ’lisation.’

‘It’s boring,’ yawned Janus. ‘At least out there with the Lieutenant we’d have a chance for a bit of action.’

‘Sergeant, hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re insane.’

Janus look at the Private, then nodded. ‘Probably.’

When they had first set out, Janus made it clear to Petterson and Barvd that he wanted a casual and friendly atmosphere whilst they patrolled. The prospect of conforming to military discipline in what was already destined to be a painfully boring routine did not appeal to him.

‘What about you, Barvd?’ Janus said. ‘Would you rather be with the Lieutenant, or trudging along aimlessly here?’

‘I’m happy here,’ Barvd said in a small voice.

The three of them strolled through the streets of Great Wyncote. Within the suburbs, they passed children playing and adults going about their day-to-day lives. The warm sun cast a pleasant light on the scene and the tedious chores of washing the car, fetching the shopping and mowing the lawn took on a sparkle of life. And despite the sheer ordinariness of it, Janus still had to admit to himself it was an agreeable sight.

It always struck him as amazing that, despite the appearance of demons and the incredible loss of life they brought with them, everyone still did their best to get by. True, every household now had at least a single gun, and all doors and widows were reinforced or boarded up, but life continued. Society survived.

They walked in silence for a few seconds, the gentle tapping of their boots against the pavement providing a rhythmic distraction for Janus.

‘Eh, Janus,’ Petterson said, ‘how old are yeh? Nineteen? Twen’y?’

‘I’m eighteen.’

‘Eighteen and already a Sergeant? That’s damned impressive, y’know that?’

Janus squirmed inwardly; he hated praised - he never knew how to react to it. Supposedly he should be used to it by now, but it still felt unnatural. ‘So they say,’ he grunted.

‘I mean, you’re one of the youngest soldiers in the platoon, and yet second-in-command.’

Janus shrugged. ‘There are other eighteen-year-old Sergeants. It’s just the way the force works. Pick out any young boy or girl that shows a sign of promise and drill them and test them. Those that make it through to Sergeant can be the poster boy of the British Army - it lets them say, “look, this young lad made it up the ranks, why not you too?” I’m not really special in anyway, I’m just another form of propaganda.’

‘Oh,’ said Petterson. He almost looked disappointed.

A momentary, awkward silence leaked into the still air. From behind them, a muddy car gently rumbled by, a child in the back peering at the three khaki-clad soldiers with apparent interest.

‘Though that’s not to say I couldn’t kick your arse,’ Janus said, probing the waters with a joke.

‘Oh yeah?’ Petterson chuckled, ‘You wanna try that one on for size, little man?’

‘Barvd, who do you think would win in a fight? Me or him?’

Barvd stopped walking and turned around to face his two companions. Janus and Petterson slowed to a halt a second later. Scratching his prematurely-grey hair, Barvd said to Petterson, ‘The Sergeant’s technique trumps your size advantage.’ He shrugged and started walking again. ‘I’ve watched you both in training, and I defiantly think the Sergeant would win.’

Janus surprised himself by feeling rather proud. His question hadn’t been serious, but Barvd’s honest answer meant a lot to him. But then, there were few people in the army he respected more than him.

‘Attention all units,’ the radio barked. ‘There has been a demon sighted in Great Wyncote.’ An excited constriction building in his chest, Janus grabbed the receiver and turned up the volume. ‘Proceed to Barking Road. Repeat - there has been a demon sighted at Barking Road.’

‘That’s near here,’ Janus said, ‘it shouldn’t be more than a five minute walk.’

‘How do you know that?’ asked Petterson.

‘I memorised the map.’ He coughed. ‘Private Petterson, Private Barvd - follow my lead; guns on safety, and only fire on my order.’

The two soldiers saluted. ‘Yes sir.’

Imp: I tried jigging that section around in all the different ways I could think (including the way you suggested), but none of them really 'worked'. At the moment, I think it does what I wanted too, so I'll leave it for now (although I'll probably come back to it at a later date.

I've made some small alterations to chapter one (mostly cutting out useless 'had's), and have written chapter two ^_^.

i really think this is good. you must have put a lot of work into it and it just pulls the reader in and you can actually feel the atmosphere of the story, see what is going on. i love the details!! keep it up it makes it better!! ur a great writer!!

To continue what I began... ^_^

Sergeant Janus sat alone in the dark corner, mindlessly watching the other soldiers devour their meals. The village hall was filled with the echo of their voices as they chatted and joked together.

Janus had at first been confident that the assignment would not pose much of a problem; as strong and fast as the demons were, they did not have guns. But he hadn’t imagined that they could be so elusive - the platoon had been searching the countryside fruitlessly for almost three weeks, and had only that day had their first encounter.

The endless searching was incredibly boring.

The little red light on the radio-set he had sat down on the bench beside him lit up, and the set cackled into life. ‘Sergeant Janus? This is Lieutenant Drace; pick up.’

Janus sighed, lowered the brown flask that hovered inches from his lips, [s]and picked up the radio.[/s] [ the previous is redundant - his speaking is enough ] ‘This is Janus, what is it Lieutenant?’

Alone in the dark corner, he watched mindlessly the other soldiers devour their meals. The village hall was filled with the echo of their voices as they chatted and joked together.

He didn't just quote it - for some strange reason, he decided to delete my words and add in his own - such as replacing 'Lieutenant' with 'Gayboy'. The complete lack of wit almost hurts.

You have quoted Sureals story twice. When I get my mod powers I shall delete your posts.

Sharpe wrote:Was a very nice piece of work congratulations i am much looking forward too any other of your stories A*

Was a very nice piece of work congratulations i am much looking forward too any other of your stories A*

Edited Chapter One . I'll continue to update and improve it, so all future crits of it are very much welcomed. I'm also gonna start work on Chapter Two.

Oh, you learn something new every day.

I didnt know the dual spelling of whiskey/whisky or about the speech marks.

Ive just checked through books and you are right - American authors use double but english authors use both.

Thanks for the crit . I'll be editting this today.


Two things:

This is for my own homework - why do you only use single speech marks? Ive always used two. Is it prefered that one is used?

Spell Check: Whiskey not Whisky

First of all I notice the date - interesting, its not often we get fantasys in the future.

Drace spun, assault rifle raised, to face the charging demon.

The creature smashed ungainly into him and together they slipped in the mud, crashing to the ground. Madness! Struggling! A flash of pale flesh; a clawed hand raised to strike; dark eyes full of… of what? Sadness?

His head thumped angrily, a punishment for getting caught off guard.

Each of her limbs was slightly longer than a human’s, and her hands had become distinct claws. Her flesh had turned pale and scabbed, her hair black, her teeth needle sharp. But most of all, she had lost her sanity.

But hadn’t Drace seen a spark of humanity in her eyes before she was killed?

He would have to make sure he put Barvd forward for promotion - he had proved himself to be a resourceful and skilled solider. He wasn’t at all surprised that it had been Barvd that had reacted fast enough to help him.

‘Sir,’ Janus said, ‘do you think those were the ones? Do you think we’re done here?’

‘I’m afraid not; the report said there were at least two dozen demons, but there are only six corpses here.’

They spent their days in the countryside, wandering up and down steep hills and marching through woodland. They were completely surrounded by dark bushes and trees, with only the occasional barb-wired fence, wooden signpost or crudely made stair-set to indicate a human presence.

Janus had - at first - been confident that the assignment would not pose too much of a problem: as strong and fast as the demons were, they did not have guns.

But he hadn’t imagined that the damned creatures would be so elusive - the platoon had been searching the countryside fruitlessly for almost three weeks, and had only that day had their first encounter.

He took a swig of his canteen. The whisky tasted almost sweet after the hard day’s work, marching back and forth in the poor conditions outside. And although - technically - he wasn’t meant to be drinking, there really was nothing to stop him. As long as the Lieutenant didn’t find out, he’d be fine.

The village hall had been lent to them by the local council,

Drace was not impressed with the Governor of Great Wyncote: he was a pompous little bastard. He had staunchly refused to listen to what Drace had had to say, and had instead repeatedly insisted that he was doing the right, moral thing. Eventually, Drace had caved in, and grudgingly agreed to his plan.

The office was a pleasant enough room. Brown, wooden casings ran along the bottom half of all the walls, and the predominantly ornate furniture gave the office a homely yet formal aura. Drace suspected that the Governor had spent more than his budgetary allowance on the room.

Thank you so much for the crit . The whole sentance structure thing had been really bugging me, but I hadn't been able to work out what the problem was - all I knew was that something was wrong.

I'll give this a big edit tomorrow ^_^.

'Lo Sureal.

Simply, sentence structurally and line by line, first.

Not everything you've written sticks so firmly to structure similarity/repetition - though you have a great aptitude for putting things neatly (sometimes plainly). This however, has a creeping tendency to repeat itself.

Drace spun, assault rifle raised, to face the charging demon. The creature smashed ungainly into him and together they slipped in the mud, crashing to the ground. Madness! Struggling! A flash of pale flesh; a clawed hand raised to strike; dark eyes full of… of what? Sadness?

A gunshot exploded through the air. The demon shuddered, and stopped struggling. The corpse’s dead weight pinned Drace underneath it. He tried to shift it but his arms were trapped.

A gunshot exploded through the air. The demon shuddered, and stopped struggling. Pinned beneath the corpse's dead weight, Drace tried to shift - but his arms were trapped.

Drace struggled to breathe. Either way he turned his head he was greeted by only more mud. All he could smell was the damp earth.

The monster was dragged off him by an unseen helper. He remained sprawled in the mud for a moment, his breathing hoarse, the cold slime plastered across his skin. His head thumped angrily, punishment for getting caught off guard.

Drace raised his head against its wishes. ‘Yes Private,’ he coughed, ‘I’m fine.’

The Private offered his gloved hand. Drace gripped it and climbed unsteadily to his feet, careful not to slip[. ][s]He[/s] retriev [s]ed[/s] -ing his gun from the dark sludge.

He turned to the demon’s body, its pallid skin dirtied by blood and dirt. It had once been human - a young girl, probably no more then fifteen years old. But the thing sprawled on the ground before him was no longer a teenage girl; she had been corrupted.

He turned to the demon’s body, its pallid skin dirtied by blood and dirt. It had once been human - a young girl, probably no more then fifteen years old. But the thing sprawled on the ground before him was no longer a teenage girl; [s]she had been corrupted[/s] Corrupted, twisted, each of her limbs was slightly longer than a human’s, and her hands had become distinct claws. Her flesh had turned pale and scabbed, her hair black, her teeth needle sharp. But most [or 'worst' of all? just a thought ] of all, she had lost her sanity.

They spent their days in the countryside, wandering up and down steep hills and marching through woodland. They were completely surrounded by dark bushes and trees, with only the occasional barb-wired fence, wooden signpost or crudely made stair-set to indicate a human presence.