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The Man in Maroon

by zephion


The black car pulled up to the curb. A man, dressed in a simple suit and a maroon tie stepped out. The automobile drove away and the suited man began down the walkway to the large mansion. His footsteps were quiet, and his gaze unwavering as he approached the rather loud building. He stopped, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. The scrap of paper only said one thing. Mr. Riley. And so, the man continued into the lavish home.

Once inside he was offered a drink from a waiter. Looking around he noticed he was in a large coat room. It had two staircases upstairs and a large chandelier over head. Every little sound he made seemed to echo. He didn’t like it. The party was elegant. All men were dressed in suits and all women in gowns. There were hundreds of people, assumedly all of some wealth or stature, but the man only had one on his mind.

Walking into the next room, he saw one person, who seemed be particularly important. He was a large man, his face almost folding over on itself. His balding head shined under the light, and his occasional cough seemed to fill the room, even in its current state of noisiness. This seemed promising to the man in the maroon tie, so he stepped that way.

“Thank you very much Mr. Riley.” said a man in a rather dirty suit.

“Not at all, it is never the wrong time for work.”

The large man began to walk away from his place near the wall. The man in the maroon tie stepped behind him, pulled a pen out of his pocket and dropped it.

“Excuse me, Mr. Riley? You dropped this.” exclaimed the man in the maroon tie.

“Oh, clumsy me,” boomed Mr. Riley, “Thank you for your help.”

“Always glad to help my boss.” said the man in the maroon tie.

Mr. Riley paused a moment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t seem to remember you.”

“I’m Bill Smith, from the tax department.”

“Ah yes, it’s coming back to me now.”

“I was hoping that you could sign some paperwork for me sir.”

“In a bit, I haven’t had a chance to enjoy the festivities yet.”

“Oh course sir.”

The man in the maroon tie followed Mr. Riley and his group of suited men across the crowded dining room. The man surveyed the situation. There were three men following Mr. Riley. Each of them wore an identical suit and black sunglasses; presumably bodyguards. With a glance the man with the maroon tie noticed that both men had a gun concealed beneath their suit jacket. One of the two continuously glanced at the poorly concealed weapon, obviously uncomfortable with the closeness of the deadly object. The other seemed relaxed, but his eyes constantly scanned the room, clearly more experienced than the other. The man, who called himself Bill Smith, made a note to be wary of this man.

Mr. Riley walked about the room speaking with his guests. He stopped to strike up a rather jolly conversation with a woman in a blue dress. Mr. Riley was soon laughing in a booming way that left him out of breath afterward.

“You must come visit some time, Mr. Riley, and see my wine collection. I do think that it will be to your liking.”

Mr. Riley laughed.

“I do like a drink, but then again, who doesn’t.”

The man in the maroon tie cleared his throat.

“Oh of course, Ms. Hearten I’m afraid I have some work to attend to. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Mr. Riley turned to the man who called himself Bill Smith.

“Follow me Mr. Smith. I am going to find a place where we can have some quiet.”

“Perfect.”

The man in maroon followed Mr. Riley, as he led him to what appeared to be a lavish office. The room was decorated with painting of people, plausibly members of the Riley family. There was a window viewing Mr. Riley’s massive moonlit courtyard. The large man lumbered over to his desk and sat down in a large leather chair. The two bodyguards stood behind him.

“Now, what is it that you need me to sign?”

“Not much, sir, just some tax information.”

The man in maroon revealed a short document and placed it on the desk. Mr. Riley pulled a pen out of his breast pocket and began to read the document over. Bill Smith waited, tensely, eyeballing the pen in his hand. The seconds ticked by as the overweight man read the document. The man in maroon prepared himself to react. Finally, Mr. Riley nodded and clicked the pen.

The pen erupted into flame. Both bodyguards turned, a look of surprise upon their faces. The man in maroon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long sleek pistol, equipped with a silencer. The big man was screaming bloody murder. The more alert body guard noticed the armed man too late. A single pull of the trigger and a bullet entered the man skull, instantly killing him. The less experienced guard, looked up, shocked, he reached for his gun, fumbling with the device. Pointing the long pistol, the man in maroon fired off another shot, killing the other guard.

Mr. Riley was whimpering now.

“Please….. please….” he cried.

Mr. Riley was clutching his right hand with his left. It was bleeding quite profusely, and some bone was showing, but the wound was not overly severe.

The man who called himself Bill Smith pointed the weapon that had now killed two people at the terrified man.

He muttered one word.

“Sorry.”

And then pulled the trigger.

Now that the rich man was dead, it was time for some cleaning up. The man with the maroon tie turned the gun around, pointing it at his own shoulder. He pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in torso. He let out a gasp of pain, but his work was not over. Wiping his prints off of the gun, with the last of his strength he threw the gun through the window, shattering the glass. He laid down on the floor, gave out a cry for help, and lost consciousness.

Two weeks later, the assassin was visited in the hospital, by yet another suited man in dark glasses.

“Do the authorities have any idea?” the expressionless man inquired.

“No idea.”

The man nodded, handing a slip of paper to the hospital patient.

“The money is in this account.”

The man left the hospital. The assassin looked at the slip of paper, dropping it on the bed side table. He laid back in his hospital bed. Satisfied with his accomplishment.


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Sun Aug 04, 2013 8:29 am
Rydia wrote a review...



Hi Zeph! I'm here for your second review :)

Specifics

1. Today we're going to talk about sentence structure. Your first paragraph has a lot of really short or short-medium sentences and that makes it very jerky. In some places it build a good tension, but there's not enough contrast for it to have the full effect. Here's a break-down of your first paragraph in sentence terms:

Total sentences: 8
Word sentence lengths: 8, 13, 16, 15, 11, 8, 2, 9
Syllable sentence lengths: 8, 15, 24, 23, 14, 10, 3, 13

A long sentence would usually be described as somewhere over 18 words in length or over 27 syllables so your sentences don't have much of a range and the two which come close are next to each other, rather than being split by a medium or short sentence. Your sentences gradually increase in length and then decrease again - there aren't sudden drops from 15 words to 2, which is where you really get your dramatic effect. I'm not sure if I'm explaining myself well, so here's a quick example:

The black car pulled up to the curb and a man dressed in a simple, black suit stepped out. His tie was maroon. The car pulled away and the suited man walked with precision down the drive of the large, Edwardian mansion. His footsteps were quiet, his gaze unwavering in the stiff, July heat. In contrast to his quiet arrival, the building shook with the rattling of teacups and the cacophony of people's voices calling out the time. He stopped. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, a tiny scrawl proclaiming one thing: Mr. Riley.

2. This moves me smoothly to my second point - you need more details. Just little details here and there can make all the difference - like your mention of the maroon tie. But also, what period is the mansion? What is the loud noise created by? For all we know, he could be approaching a modern house in full party mode.

3.

Once inside he was offered a drink from by a waiter. Looking around he noticed he was in a large coat room cloakroom.
Careful with your word choice! You want it to read smoothly and every word you choose helps set the atmosphere or an impression of the characters and settings. A large house has a cloakroom, not a coat room, because it's posh. Even my parents call their coat room a cloakroom and they don't live in a big place.

4. You need to proof read this! There's a lot of little things like missing plurals or misplaced commas. It's too much for me to give a chronology, but you should work on it a little.

5. The shooting scene is a little too fast and very difficult to follow as to who is being shot and by who. Try to add some clarity there - a good level of excitement though.

Overall

I really enjoyed the plot of this piece, but it moved very quickly and I didn't get a great sense for the characters involved. I don't know if the man in the maroon tie had any regrets or why he said sorry when he killed Mr. Riley. There's very little to follow and I don't like the idea that he did it only for money because that makes him rather dull. I want to get under his skin more.

I hope this helps a little!

Heather xx




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Mon Jun 24, 2013 4:38 am
Swagmonkey wrote a review...



Enjooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy




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Mon Jun 24, 2013 4:38 am
Swagmonkey wrote a review...



It's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee




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Mon Jun 24, 2013 4:37 am
Swagmonkey wrote a review...



Guess who's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack




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Fri Apr 19, 2013 2:58 am
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Thu Apr 18, 2013 8:47 pm
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Thu Apr 18, 2013 8:47 pm
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Thu Apr 18, 2013 7:12 pm
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Thu Apr 18, 2013 7:11 pm
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Sun Jan 27, 2013 2:03 pm
blakey789 wrote a review...



I'd love to say that the starting was really charming. The whole story seemed very visual and thought-out. It was tense, built-up well, and came to the point where it needed to, which is great by the way.
Others have already poitned out the minor mistakes, so not going there let's point the things in the story.

"Now that the rich man was dead, it was time for some cleaning up"

This line seemed very casual and light, considering the mood of the story form the starting. It was time for some cleaning up, seemed vague at that moment.
The scene were pretty desciptive and they needed to, so it was safe in that department.
The action is slowly building up, coming to a satisfying conclusion, no big compaints about it.
Your writing is something to be reckoned with, you know.
It had potential, which can make a great book, hope you post the whole book.
It had an aura of sherlock homes though, this scene left me wanting more, though its not perfect.
But hey! no one's piece is perfect, it can always be better, and we write for becoming better so..no worries. As long as its engaging enough with some minor or vague mistakes, it's fine.
Hope my review helped!
:)
Regards,
blakey789




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Sun Jan 13, 2013 12:25 am
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Ranger51 wrote a review...



Hello there! I am Ranger, and I come seeking the honor of reviewing this fine work. *bows*

I'd like to start by saying that I really enjoyed this. (Especially because I've been getting into the Assassin's Creed series recently - that increased my interest a lot. XD) The whole story seemed very professional and thought-out, and it generally reminded me of some of the better action-mystery books I've read, like Alex Rider and some Sherlock Holmes. I only have a couple of things to point out.

The first is this:

...There were three men following Mr. Riley. Each of them wore an identical suit and black sunglasses; presumably bodyguards. With a glance the man with the maroon tie noticed that both men had a gun concealed beneath their suit jacket. One of the two...

Three... both... two.... Whoops.

I know that was a minor mistake and probably even a typo of sorts, but it still raised a huge flag saying, "I'M AN ERROR" and waved it around in my face, interrupting the wonderful flow of events you had going there. Again, a very minor error, but it caught the reader's attention and made a glitch in the illusion of reality that you'd carefully constructed. The fact that such a small mistake caught my eye, though, is a good thing, because there were very few other errors.

Also.
The pen erupted into flame. #FF0000 ">(That's awesome, by the way.)

...[His hand] was bleeding quite profusely, and some bone was showing, but the wound was not overly severe.

Whoa, whoa, wait. Why is his hand bleeding?

I'm guessing that the pen was supposed to explode enough to mangle his hand. However, the description of "erupting into flame" gave an image of it bursting into flame, not exploding. Fire burns, but it doesn't cut. So, instead of giving an image of a sort of gush of flame, make sure that the reader is aware that it was an explosion, like a grenade. Usually when a grenade goes off you wouldn't describe it as an eruption, but more as an explosion, and an explosion or light or sound, not of fire.

Other than that, though, there's really nothing else I can add. I loved the general feel of this whole piece, and that we never learned the main character's name or motives. It leaves it that much more mysterious and assassin-esque. It was very professional, very solid, and very well-done. Congratulations on writing such a great work, and I hope to see more from you!




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Sat Jan 12, 2013 11:54 pm
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HorriBliss wrote a review...



I liked it quite a lot actually. It was tense, built-up well, and exploded right when it needed to. Bravo!

The images that immediately came to my head were basically a Hollywood thriller movie mashed with The Matrix cinematography, and a touch of James Bond, too - all quite the mix to have.

I'll try and go into a wee bit more detail here:

- "Looking around he noticed he was in a large coat room." - I've no issue so far, but then you go on to state that the coat room has two staircases and a chandelier? I thought you meant some other type of room, but nothing came to mind; was this intentional? Why was the coat room so big (it threw me off is why I ask)?


- "his face almost folding over on itself" I got the image of this man, Harry Redknapp, when you said that (not sure if that's how you pictured this character to look, but that's what came to my head with that description!): http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/arc ... 36377b.jpg


- “Oh course sir.” - was this meant to be: "Of course, sir." or "Oh, course sir" (short for 'of course sir'?) It just threw me off a little.

- "A single pull of the trigger and a bullet entered the man skull, instantly killing him. The less experienced guard, looked up, shocked, he reached for his gun, fumbling with the device. Pointing the long pistol, the man in maroon fired off another shot, killing the other guard." - it was a shame that this was where I got thrown off a little bit, considering it's where the action climaxes. Firstly, it should read that the bullet ''entered the man's skull'' (you left out the apostrophe). Secondly, the last sentence confused me too, at first. I think it'd be better to just use the pronoun: "Pointing the long pistol, the man in maroon fired off another shot, killing him.", that way I know that there is only one guard, and that he is being killed. When I originally read it, I was confused thinking the man in the maroon killed a different guard, but there was still one more left to shoot him (this obviously wasn't the case).

Aye, other than those few gripes, I quite enjoyed the story and don't let me being critical deter you. I'm only trying to help!

Ask me any questions or queries if you want, I'll try and help as best I can.

Thank you, and take care!





Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.
— Sylvia Plath