SCRATCH
“Must… keep… going.”
Sneakered feet hit the ground running, their owner’s heart beating a rhythm often used in hardcore rock; unrelenting, and unsustainable.
In a manner often seen in free-runners, the boy hurdled himself down stairs and over benches, breath coming to him reluctantly.
A man stalked after him, barely running yet somehow keeping up.
Raising a gun-holding and ring-laced fist, it was clear the man considered the chase over. The boy’s thigh exploded in a grisly mess of bone, bullet and flesh. He collapsed in an oddly silent agony
How fitting an end to a thief and anarchist. Rival Anarchist.
“Rimuova questo, rapidamente!”
Darkly dressed men filed in hastily, armed with submachine guns. Most were beginning to hide their guns on their person as they arrived. There were about a dozen of them, all wearing mirrored glasses and serious expressions.
Dressed in a flawless purple suit, the man allowed a smile of triumph to seep across his chiselled features. In the shadowy environment, the expression took an almost vampiric quality.
He watched with silent glee as a pair of his men hoisted the struggling body towards a presently arriving van. Others were cleaning the scene of the sickly evidence.
Flipping open the cartridge of his Beretta 92, he replaced the single spent bullet, before slipping the little pistol back within his suit.
The other men were changing into civilian clothes; the cleanup was almost complete. Most important of all, the man reminded himself, the boy had not got away.
He noted the van’s doors being closed.
“Arresto! Arresto!” He snarled. The two men literally leapt out of his way, despite his slight frame and modest height.
“Mr. Pietro,” mumbled one of the men as the pair re-opened the boy had escaped… He suppressed the urge to shudder at the very thought.
“Now, listen you American brat,” he hissed, “You try to escape,” He flicked out the beretta, “And you’re dead, you got that?” Whatever Italian charm he may have been retaining was gone. But it would return, just in time for the next media conference.
Although the teenager did not reply due to the tape over his mouth, the pain and terror in his eyes was clear. However, if he thought he had problems…
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
The repeat paragraph is a typo, sorry bout that...
The title is in caps because it's an abbreviation, of which more will be learnt further on, but I'll change it anyway.
Changes will be posted once completed, thanks for the helpful critique. Part two will be posted soon(ish)
I didn't really thing you needed the bit I crossed out. You've already established he's running, it just sounds redundant at this point.
You may want to try and clarify that section. there was a lot happening and it felt kind of choppy, maybe try easing back a bit and giving the reader a chance to digest and visualize what is going on.
I'm guessing that last bit was a just a typo thing cause you had like nearly identical paragraphs. From this little bit I've read I surely see a developing story. I liked your imagery, but I would love to you expand on it. I think you know how to use your words and don't be afraid to build up your scenery. A dark alley is so cliche, spice it up, make it more than a dark alley. I hope that made sense.
And your characters seem interesting, though the beginning was a bit odd 'cause it read as though you transferred from the boy's POV to this purple suit guy.
Those are the only main issues I can see, I like the story, it sounds interesting already.
P.S. try not to type your titles in caps, it can deflect attention from your story and the Moderators will most likely change it anyway.