Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language and violence.
Story continued from The Things I Do (Section 3)
They came out of no where. I heard a rustle behind me and my feet were suddenly swept out from under me. I landed hard on my back, struggling hard for a gasp of air. Whoever attacked me pinned my arms down with their knees and slammed my head into the ground. For a second, all I could see was black. I blinked it away and my instincts began to kick in. Their hands reached for my neck and I slammed my head into theirs. A pinched cry escaped from their lips and they rolled off me. I pressed a hand to my aching forehead, blood dripping down from the corner of my brow, but I managed to hold on to the part of me that knew I was still in danger. I dropped my hand to my waist and scrambled for the knife.
It came free from its sheath, and I looked up just in time to see another man, bigger than the other, charging at me with a blade of his own. I ripped the knife up and barely deflected his blow. My feet were unbalanced beneath me, and I slid to the ground. The man shouted and came down on me with the knife, so I did the only thing I could think to do--I stabbed him in the foot.
I stuck the knife down and began sliding backwards on my hands and knees as fast as I could. My shoulders rammed into the wall and I covered my face with my arms, curling my knees us to my chest. The man’s shouts of anger turned to cries of pain, and I closed my eyes, dreading what would come next.
I heard the door open and the cocking of a shotgun.
“Get the hell away from my son,” I heard a familiar voice say.
I opened my eyes and lowered my arms. Sure enough, Gerard stood in the doorway, one foot inside the barn with a shotgun loaded and aimed at the man closest to me. The look on his face was one of steel.
“Don’t shoot,” the intruder said. It was the smaller one, and he had a rather feminine voice. He stood up, placing his hands high in the air. He pulled down his hood and--it wasn’t a guy. She had long brown hair that spilled down her back like a waterfall.
“Jaime?” Gerard’s voice jumped up two octaves. He immediately lowered his gun.
“Gerard?” I asked timidly. Obviously they knew each other--but the question was friend or foe?
He looked from me to the woman, then to the man I had stabbed in the foot. I could see gears turning in his head. The woman--Jaime--dropped her hands.
“You must be Gerard Guthrie,” the man said almost comically. Well, I guess he wasn’t really yet a man--he looked the part, in fact he towered over me, but his limbs were still long and awkward. He grinned. “This will be a great story one day.”
“Who are you?” Gerard asked, frowning. He slightly raised the gun’s muzzle, and the man raised his hands in surrender.
I got to my feet, walking a wide circle around the couple, not daring to take my eyes off them for one second. My head throbbed from when I had headbutt the girl, but I ignored it and bent down to snatch up my knife from the dust. I stopped next to Gerard, my heart pounding loudly against my ribs.
“My name is Peter.” He grimaced and looked down at his foot. “Could we please skip the formalities?”
“Gerard, I swear we had no idea he was your son,” Jaime said quickly. “We thought--I don’t know what we thought. But ever since Thomas’s death, everyone’s been really on edge. He was an experienced hunter--they don’t usually die. My dad tried to get a hold of you--when he didn’t hear anything, from you or August, we decided to come and get you ourselves.” She looked sincerely at Gerard, her eyes pleading with him. “We need your help.”
Slowly, Gerard lowered his shotgun all the way. He exchanged a small glance with me before gesturing to them to follow. “Help get him inside,” he told Jaime.
She smiled gratefully, and slid her arm under Peter’s shoulder, letting him lean on her like a crutch. They limped after us slowly. I watched Gerard out of the corner of my eye, but he made a point not to look back at me. His shoulders were tense and his jaw set in a rigid line. I knew whatever came next was not going to be pretty. Gerard shuffled me in to the house, then held the door for Jaime and Peter.
Bethany stood with her arms crossed in the doorway of the kitchen. She was frowning at someone just out of my view, but her face flooded with relief when her eyes met mine.
“Maverick!” She ran over to me and gave me a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered in my ear. She stepped away and I saw who she was frowning at. My hand went instinctively to my belt to search for a blade, but I knew it was pointless. Five people, two women and three men, stood before men in all black, military-grade gear from head to toe. My heart just about stopped right then and there.
“Who are you?” I asked. When none of them answered, I looked at Bethany.
She pursed her lips, but said nothing.
“Careful,” a voice said behind me. I stepped into the kitchen to let Jaime and Peter by. She quickly sat him down in a chair at the table.
“What happened?” a woman with long blonde hair asked.
“He was stabbed in the foot,” Gerard said coldly. There were mixed looks around the room. Looking at them now, I noticed that they all had similar features. Apart from the blonde woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties, they all had dark brown hair. They had small noses that turned slightly up at the end, but not so much that they looked snobbish.
The oldest man, a tall guy with white and gray peppered hair, stepped forward.
“Gerard--” he began to say.
“Don’t start, Casey,” Gerard interrupted. “This is my family. A simple call would have worked just fine, but instead you come in here, into my home, and your reckless kids nearly murder my son.”
The man, Casey, looked at me with shock. “I swear, Gerard, we had no idea. We didn’t think--”
“Of course you didn’t,” he snarled. He put the shotgun down on the table with more force than was necessary.
For a moment, all they did was stare a t each other. The air was so still I was scared to breathe.
“Can someone please help me here?” Jaime sighed. Bethany went to the sink, filled up a bucket with water, and grabbed a handful of towels. She crouched down next to Peter to get a better look at his wound.
“Maverick, hand me your knife,” she commanded. Reluctantly, I handed it to her, hilt first, and she began to cut the fabric of his shoe.
“Listen,” Peter said to me, “I’m sorry that I tried to kill you.”
“We really are,” Jaime said softly. “I swear none of us knew--we were just expecting five of you. We saw you with Patrick, and… I don’t know what we were thinking.”
She looked like she expected something from me. I offered her a nod, and she smiled with relief.
“We haven’t properly met. I’m Jaime Swain. This is my youngest brother, Peter. Then there’s my other little brother, Devin; my sister, Alison; my oldest brother, Slade; and my mom and dad, Melissa and Casey.”
I remembered August and Gerard talking about Casey Swain before. It was a long time ago, but I couldn’t quite place when and where. What had they said about him?
“You’re Maverick?” asked Slade. He was a lot taller than I was, and a lot stronger, too, by the looks of it. He reached out a hand for me to shake.
“Yeah,” I shook his hand. “Maverick Guthrie.”
I don’t know why I said that. My name was Maverick Odin, but I got a weird feeling about the Swain family. I wasn’t ready to trust them just yet.
“How long have you been hunting?” Slade asked.
I shrugged. “Four years.”
“And these two didn’t kill ya?” He seemed genuinely impressed. “Natural talent.”
“I’d say,” Alison spoke up. She was smaller than everyone in her family, and pretty, too. She gave me a cute little grin full of dimples and said, “You must take after your dad.”
“Oh, uh...yeah.” I wanted to tell her I was adopted, but I still couldn’t trust them. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye: Gerard and Casey were talking.
“Gerard, please just listen. We need to call in the council.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“You saw the signs, same as I did.”
“Could we just talk about this for one second?” Gerard sighed. “What you’re asking for, it’s war. You’re bringing war to our front doors. Are you ready for that? You have children, Casey. Peter’s still in high school! And I have my own family to think of.”
“Melissa and I have talked about it. We know the risks--”
“No you don’t. Not if you still think this is a good idea. If you truly thought about it, you wouldn’t be asking me to do this.”
“I’m not asking you,” Casey said. Gerard was silent. “I don’t need to ask you.”
“Don’t do this,” Gerard said. “Don’t drag my family into this mess.”
“Then don’t make me. We need to talk about this sooner or later, we can’t ignore it until it goes away.”
I looked over at Gerard and we locked eyes. I silently cursed in my head, because he knew I heard everything.
“Let’s talk now, then. Somewhere more private,” Gerard said, leading Casey from the room.I let out a small breath, because I suddenly remembered what I had forgotten. I remembered August telling Gerard something bout Casey. It was about his moral code he used when hunting Wicks. He didn’t care whether or not a Wick was good or evil. Casey Swain killed all Wicks.
Casey Swain would kill me.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
Hello again!!
Being the third review, some of which I say might be repeated, and I'm sorry if it is.
Back to the fight scene points...
Now, I already expressed what I liked about your story and writing: very fluid, interesting plot line, originality, etc. And that remains absolutely true! This section was awesome, as usual, and I like how it starts with action. So, as a warning now, I might say more harsh things than positive, but you should know that I already think very highly of it!
One thing I appreciate about your writing is that there are never any major grammatical things that I can see. There were a couple tiny, tiny typos I saw (ie. "My shoulders rammed into the wall and I covered my face with my arms, curling my knees us to my chest." -- should be up), and you might want to go through to find others, but again, I'm not going to focus on that aspect for this review.
Onto specific points I'd like to address:
First off, let's start with the fight scene. You write pretty awesome fight scenes! Your choice of words makes it easy to imagine what's going on, and I don't find it to ever be muddled. But, I still have some things to suggest.
→ "Whoever attacked me pinned my arms down with their knees and slammed my head into the ground. For a second, all I could see was black. I blinked it away and my instincts began to kick in. Their hands reached for my neck and I slammed my head into theirs."
You used slammed twice in three sentences; try to vary it up! Smash is a good word. (HULK SMASH- yeah, I have no self control.) This also applies for any other cases of repetition throughout the section.
Another thing I noticed within these paragraphs- and also in general- is that you seem to be fond of the "clause AND clause" structure.
Ie. "I blinked it away and my instincts began to kick in. Their hands reached for my neck and I slammed my head into theirs. A pinched cry escaped from their lips and they rolled off me [...] I dropped my hand to my waist and scrambled for the knife."
While this isn't a problem, per se, I encourage you to change up the sentence structure at some points. For example, "Their hands reached for my neck and I slammed my head into theirs." can easily be rearranged to "As their hands reached for my neck, I slammed [...]".
Both of those points were my personal opinion, mainly for language variation, but it's completely your preference.
→ "I stuck the knife down and began sliding backwards on my hands and knees as fast as I could. My shoulders rammed into the wall and I covered my face with my arms, curling my knees us to my chest. The man’s shouts of anger turned to cries of pain, and I closed my eyes, dreading what would come next."
Brief point: you already used the verb 'slide' a couple sentences earlier, and I think a term like scampered is more suitable. (Okay, certain word repetition is just one of my pet peeves; please try not to be too bothered if I point something like that out.)
So Maverick is willing to jump straight into a fight with several dangerous Wicks, but when faced with a couple of opponents, he cowers as soon as he is without a knife? Would he really scramble backwards, hit a wall, and immediately throw up his arms into a semi-fetal position? Would he not at least attempt to run away? It seems a bit unlike what a trained hunter would do, especially as it is later mentioned that he has four years of experience. If you want to make him back into a wall and shield himself, I'd say to add more detail as to why such a recklessly, brave hunter would do that: the opponents had out their weapons, he was surrounded, etc. I mean, he just stabbed one guy in the foot, who is presumably out-of-service momentarily, and there is only mention of one other attacker, so I don't see why he'd be so quick to give up when he actually doesn't have too bad of a chance to win with close combat. This could be nine seasons of Supernatural influencing what I say, though, aha.
→ The knife was stabbed in Peter's foot, and he made cries of pain. Alright, that's understandable. However, moments later, after Gerard comes busting in, Peter addresses him 'almost comically'; I highly doubt anyone who just got a knife plunged into their body would say anything without at least gritting their teeth or grunting in pain. For one, I would probably just pass out (hurrah for low pain tolerance) but hey, Peter could just be a badass and that, I'd believe.
Also, when Maverick went to pick up the knife, it was lying in the dust. When was it pulled out? I guess readers are supposed to assume so, and that makes sense, but still, it can be confusing. Additionally, you could add more description and say it was covered in blood or he wiped of the blood or something because it was just moments ago in someone's foot.
Before moving on from the fight scene, I'd like to take a moment and say I admire Gerard for being so protective of his adopted son! Now, moving on:
→ '“Jaime?” Gerard’s voice jumped up two octaves. He immediately lowered his gun.
“Gerard?” I asked timidly. Obviously they knew each other--but the question was friend or foe?'
If it were a foe, why would Gerard have lowered the gun?
→ One thing I don't understand is why the Swains were in the barn in the first place. I mean, there is a house with a door, so why wouldn't they just knock? As Gerard pointed out, a call would have worked fine. Plus, they mentioned it themselves: they saw him with Patrick. Why would they, a family of hunters ("Saving people, hunting things; the family business" ahaha- again I have no self control...), do something like that. They all keep swearing they don't know what they were thinking, but I recommend that you write in a better reason, because that sounds a bit like a plot hole.
As for the rest of it, your dialogue is plausible and flows smoothly! I actually don't have too much of a problem with Maverick shaking Slade's hand. Sure, maybe Mav should be a bit more weary or uptight, but mistakes happen in the hunting business, and I'm sure the Guthries have had their share of close-calls before.
Ahhh, that cliff hanger! While it sucks, because it's a cliff hanger, I actually quite like how you left it off. It still mostly conclusive for a chapter, but leaves it at a looming future danger. I am also very curious to hear about this war and the mess Gerard and Casey were talking about; you have me so intrigued!
Anyways, this review is so not meant to be attacking your story, because I love it! I think it's interesting so far, and I'm just pointing out possible inconsistencies that you may want to change to polish it up even more. Great job and keep on writing!
Can't wait for the next chapter,
Mavrick
(the one who now understands and takes back the questions about the use of 'sections')
Hello, I'm back for part four! Well this started out very exciting, and I was totally expecting it to be some sort of supernatural being attacking, not another group of hunters, so that was a cool surprise. I think this new group you've introduced adds a great new element to the story. It adds an interesting third party that seems to be neither strictly "good guys" or "bad guys." I did find their motive for attacking Maverick a bit confusing, though. At first I thought they knew that he was a Wick, somehow, but then it was made clear that they didn't. Were they confused about who he was? Did they think he was there to cause trouble? This is a bit confusing to me since they saw him talking with Patrick.
You've also added quite a few characters in a very short amount of time, which can become confusing so I'd keep an eye on that. It can easily become confusing for the audience and they can start losing track of relationships between different characters.
I also agree with Vari about Maverick's attitude a bit. If I had been attacked by a strange group I didn't know I would be a little suspicious and hesitant towards them for a bit. Also, I'm not sure how hard Peter got stabbed in the foot, but he didn't seem to have a very strong reaction to it. I would have expected him to express a lot more pain. Foot injuries hurt!
You've done a good job of finding ways to create tension so far, and the end of each section so far has left a nice cliff hanger, though I think if you wanted you could make each of these sections individual chapters and it would work fine.
-Masq
*waves* hello again!
Jumping right in - as always:
In the first paragraph Odin is held down by more than one Wicks(?). They're holding down both his arms. Usually when a group holds down one person I think it goes like so: #1 holds down left arm, #2 holds down right arm and #3 sits on his legs and doles out the pain. Except if you imply that there are only two people attacking, then it goes like this: #1 holds down both his arms and #2 sits on his legs and doles out the pain.
Odin headbutts one of his attackers, usually this means that the attackers head his right above his. That is only the case in the situation with two attackers. If Odin could sense them coming, why can't he sense how many there are? Also the constant use of 'they' and 'their' to describe Odin's attackers, frankly it's a bit confusing...
“We haven’t properly met. I’m Jaime Swain. This is my youngest brother, Peter. Then there’s my other little brother, Devin; my sister, Alison; my oldest brother, Slade; and my mom and dad, Melissa and Casey.”
Wow, seven people attacked him at once... Also, it's quite a normal conversation after a murder attempt, don't you think? Yes, they apologized - but I'd expect it to be more awkward and stunted that you portray. It's like: Oops, sorry for almost killing you - let's be friends! I wouldn't accept that... but then again I hold grudges... ^^
When they're walking back towards the house, I find it odd that Odin and his family walk ahead of the intruders. They just tried to kill Odin, they came onto private property without permission and frankly they're loose canons. Why would Odin&co willingly turn their backs on them?
“Yeah,” I shook his hand. “Maverick Guthrie.”
Nope. I'd never shake the hand of someone who minutes ago almost succeeded in killing me... NEVER!
Keep up the good work c:
~Vari