I stared down at my black, runed hands, and they had been there as long as I could remember. Everything else was gone, my parents, my past, anything that felt like it should be known and personal, something to define me, was not there.
I could not remember the last time I spoke to anything or anyone.
I could not remember any friends, siblings, any parent or authority figure I may have had.
I could not remember if I was born with the runes scarring all up my arms, my body...
My name...my real name was just out of my reach. I let out a strangled cry of torture, not quite physical but purely mental torture. How can someone be so cruel to take virtually everything away from me!?
..and yet who were they?
I screamed again, a pure wave of fury swelling up and overtaking my actions as I threw myself forward and in response my body connected with a wall as a hard as...something. I could not describe it because I had no memory.
I fell to my knee's, feeling across the floor and looking,something,anything!
Something flashed light through the room, making me flinch, and I looked up.
Pain.
Memorys slammed into my skull, causing me to scream,writhing in agony on the cold,hard ground. Just as quickly,everything was gone, ripped from me and causing a pain just as bad as being forced ignorant.
Someone laughed.
No thinking, I just turned and threw myself at the sound, low and animalistic snarls coming into the air between us. I hit something.
In response, the divider between us shattered.
"Glass,not quite strong enough to hold something so feral now is it?"the voice asked. The sound was amused at the liquid dripping down my arms, at my agony.
It was...unknown, everything around me.
He clicked something clasped in his hand, smiling at me like he was safe.
I fell to my knees, screaming.
I so wanted to bash my head into the conccrete sitting beneath me, make the horrendous memories stop.
Blood.
Cuts.
Bruises...
Bones...
Broken
There was a keening, shrill sound before I realized that it was me.
Screams infused with sobs ripping from me without humilty.
I begged him to stop without any worry of being stupid, of ruining an image I could make up. However ,the tall thin boy stood in front of me, smiling. I screamed again, my hands fisted.
It was such a shrill sound, it felt like my ears were bleeding. Yet I could not stop, and I knew the pain wouldn't either till he decided I had enough.
Guns
Blood splatter
Death
Me?
It stopped, and I collapsed in a mess,panting, crying. I recovered quickly though, and I stood before him. I only had enough memories trappd in my skull to describe things, his looks, and little more.He stepped aside, still smiling at me and looking oh so innocent.
Beautiful.
I stared at a reflection of myself, leaning forward in astonishment. My skin was tight, flawless on my strong boned face. My eyes were a wide, flawed hazel matching my smooth, sun darkened skin. The blackness of my hair matched the runes across my bodys in an uncannily similar way. It fell into my eyes in a way that seemed feral, as he had called me by my reactions.
I was wearing animal skin clothes, a top that was tied with cords of soem other kind of skin. Pants made of Identical fabric and cords.I was tall, lean, muscle that seemed to be formulatied for something very specific that was unknown to me.
Scars.
I was covered in as many scars as I was covered in runes. They were all different shapes, sizes, and some looked like they were made of different depths. They covered my runes and some were hard to identify because they hadnt been deep enough to penetrate the ink buried into my coplexion. My eyes widened and suddenly I was focused on the boy.
He was stunning in a very different way.
He had a clear set of muscles that were in no way hidden by his clothes. His thick, icey blonde hair falling into his blue eyes that were an oddly, almost tracluencent blue color. His skin wasnt quite as tan as mine, but he was sun bleached, a smile on his face.
Too perfect..
I turned and threw a punch, but he just as quickly put a hand up and caught it in his open palm. In an equally desperate attempt to hurt him, I went to swipe him with my ankle but he did a very similar move and side stepped my offensive move.
"ah ah."he said, clucking his tongue as his lips formed a smirk.
"Bleed." was my own response.
That was the first time I heard my voice, not a growl, not a grunt or a scream, but a voice void of emotion. There was power rushed through me as he began to cough,staining his hand and sleeve in red and straing in horror at the smirk curving onto my lips. I could just barely feel the movement.
He could only gurgle an unintelligible reply that I did not bother to try and decipher.
I made a step forward and he flew into the wall wit ha crunch of his bones.
The sound made me giggle, a very odd sound coming from someone like me.
"Break." One word, in a single whisper as I stared at his mouth, tracing the curve of his jaw with my eyes.
He made another agonized sound as the blood spewed out of his mouth and ran down the sides of his mouth. His jaw was moving a little, making sounds that would make others sick. Snapping,popping sounds that made me burst into a fit of hysteria.
"Heal."
I whispered, and he stopped bleeding, or it seemed like it. His eyes widened as he carefull worked his jaw, somehow void of any pain or injury.
"Incredible.."he murmured, pulling something out in his hand.
Click
I screamed, falling to the floor and trembling, twitching, fighting and losing my own battle against the agony. Inescapable, and the screams got to a level of shrill torture that seemed to go on forever. Pleading, begging sounds ripped from my vocal cords but he did not listen, and instead watched me with a smirk.
I had a feeling he was mimicking me from before. I could feel the tears and sweat, but I felt no pause.
the agony...
I wonder if this coarsed through my victims, and not just their minds. I tried to focus but I couldnt with such a rush of pictures and words, conversations and rooms full of torture and splattered with blood. My eyes wheeled around wildly, looking for some kind of outlet for the burning torture.
Fire.
Flesh.
Blue and Red.
White.
Bubbling blisters
Burned at a stake
Where was I? I couldnt take in so much, couldnt handle the wild and unknown rush being forced into my brain. Why was there laughter that sounded erriely like mine? Ropes winding around victims was they seemed to be ripped apart by nothing at all.
Stop.
Please.
Shoot me.
H.E.L.P
It stopped with a stuttering half and left me panting. I looked up in an almost childing fear written in red across my face., I couldnt help it, and he was hurting me!
"I suggest you listen to me." were his words and his face curved into a smile. Bloody smile. A smile unprepared for a punch.
I wanted so badly to strangle him with my bare hands but I couldnt touch him without being struck down.
Pain I wasnt ready to deal with.
I sat up very cautiously, glaring at him the entire time. I knew my eyes, stunnign as they were, could easily stab through his skin and the walls around his mind.
He turned easily, walking toward a blank wall as forward, coming to a half. He was blinking slowly, as if annoyed by something to slow for his racing emtions and intelligence.
The wall moved.
Not the entire thing, but a section that made a sound like grinding bones before it went silence and quickly slipped into the rest of the wall. It left behind an opening, leading into a dimly lit corridor that I stared at, astonished as he walked through it, turning only to look at me.
"Come on." he said, his words beckon.
He turned away once more, walking left and I could barely hear the sound of his boots on a plush floor. I stood, and quickly stepped forward to see where he was going. My legs were long, muscled like a person made for speed and I actually enjoyed the way I quickly caught up with him. It felt as if I had never taken a slow step in my life. He, on the other hand, took his time and made slow, deliberate steps that barely half the length of mine and annoying me more by the second.
"Name?"he asked, seemingly amused.
I blinked, so taken aback that I stopped short. I just stared as him as he smiled back, and saw him reach into his pocket. My mind panicked, fear shoot through my limbs as my lips and voice activated without my command.
"I dont know." I blurted, staring at him in muted horror as he pulled his hand out of his pocket. Empty.
I breathed a sigh of pure relief and he led me down hall after hall; sometimes I could feel it slowly move into a gentle curve, utterly confusing me into a place I knew I might never get to know.
Click.
I blinked, stopping short at the pressure on my head.
Gun?
Yes, the barrel of a gun was being pressed into the crown of my skull, whispered somethign that seemed foriegn and yet so familiar into my ear. I knew it,and as I searched through my brain for some random, sticking pieces of information it hit me.
Latin.
I actually was not sure what they were saying, but I knew it as a form of latin and that I was, in the past, fluent in the language.I could not understand it in any way, and I closed my eyes in fear for my life before it hit me.
Why? Why was I so afraid?
I snapped into survival mode that forced me into action. I flipped around so fast everything around me blurred before snapping into focus. I wrapped my hand around the barrel of the un, bending the metal as I stared into the blue eyes. I was smirking,I could feel it on my mouth as I watching his eyes widen and strike through with fear.
"Die."
A whisper of one short word, slipping into the small space between as I leaned back to see. My eyes were sick with delight.
Damn....
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139,638 Literary Works • 672,637 Reviews
There are actually plenty of mistakes, all throughout the story. If its because you type too fast, then you need to slow down. True, its not the worst I have seen on here, and I do very appreciate the format you used (It looks like a mouthful to me when people don't even use spaces).
The idea of this story is brilliant, and could have been used professionally. Unfortunately, the could is emphasized. You focused more on the back-and-forth of this boy and the girl, which completely blind-sided the story line into something I would have written on the due date of one of my stories (I take a journalism class that has stories due on a regular basis, and unfortunately my procrastination habits has that happen often).
Even though following the beginning was like trying to read Russian, I was hooked when the runes on her body was first mentioned. That was the main issue that had ruined this story for me though, because it didn't focus very much on the why, when, where, and how of the runes on her body. That is very frustrating, because you could have done so much more with that and given it so much more depth.
I really and truly hated the back-and-forth between the two characters. It was written almost like it were child's play, and they were both toddlers that still believed in cooties. There was no mention of the injuries, of which I mean after they killed each other thirty times over. Do they just get up after being shot and mentally beaten to death? I don't think that was it, but if it was than you definitely need to emphasize that point.
There were a bunch of holes about her supposedly forgetting all of her memories. Like for instance, how did she even know she had family at all? How does she know what to compare the boy's hair to and the like? I know it would be hard to try to give good descriptions without comparing it to something, but I think that with a little harder thought it could have been done.
The ending was an absolute disaster. The boy had been shooting her the entire time, but only at the end does she actually use the word gun. Or if it had not been one, then you definitely need to clarify. Only when you had mentioned 'blue eyes' did I figure out that it was the boy, and before that I kept thinking of some buff ugly-looking Latin American or something. The very last part just seemed like it was thrown in there to finish it. It seemed so out of place, that it would have been equivalent to suddenly talking about a sea turtle.
It is very amateurish to do those little one-word phrases to add intensity, especially when you don't even end them with a period. It had gotten almost boring when you kept ranting about how much pain she was in, when she didn't even seem to feel it a paragraph later. At one point it looked like you even copy- pasted one of the phrases, when she is begging the boy to stop. A good part of the story had random parts in it, that you either need to clarify or delete entirely, like when you put in the part about blisters and victims(I still can't figure out where you got the victims from, when again you said that she had no memory. If her memory is coming back you need to clarify).
Even though the overall story is hanging by the threads, you have a beautiful vocabulary and writing technique. It is obvious that you are gifted with writing, and with practice you will naturally become better and begin to correct yourself. I apologize if by chewing out your story had offended you, but I can't help how blunt I can be while reviewing. I hope to read more of your writing in the future.
Well, the way I wrote it it was more like my hand was moving without my mind really going along. It was written from her present day looking into the past, but Ill definately try to clean it up a bit so it is more understandable.
I read quite a bit, and I do hope I get better but lately Ive been having headaches which is giving me blocks so I try to work past it. Thanks for your input, however, and Ill try to clean it up a bit.
Also, neither of them had been really injured except the boy. She has a mental block, and at his hand is a little remote like thing(ill have to describe it more) that releases all this information at one time. Pieces stick, and yet all at the same time the words and pictures rushing at her is like having too much information stuffed into your brain at one time. Painful.
Her memory, is sketchy, as in she has pictures without words and words without pictures to connect it. so,she does have memories, but they are sketchy at best so she can desrcribe things but she cant really describe them. Does that make any sense?...hm..
The boy hadnt been shooting at her at all, which is why I agin bring up the little contraption releasing her memories on her all at once.
the victims are memories that see mto be in the front of her mind, something about he past she can't quite decipher and I could take it out but I kind of like it, I could also move it however.
Thank you!
This is completely great! I love it! The setting of this story wasn't clearly stated so I had a very hard time figuring out what was going on. In the beginning there were a couple of places the had typos. For example,"anything that felt likei t should be know". You should double check things for just in case reasons and then post it. Someone else will probably find other mistakes within this writing that I couldn't see. Everything else is completely fine with me! What I would have to like the most is the main character. It's almost seems like she has two sides. One good, one evil and it's caused because of those strange memories that kept coming back to her.
Thanks
did this one day bored in school, and typos are common,I type too fast!! Thank you for the input,I'll get right on it