Scratch

Please say what you think of it and some suggestions for improving it please!

Albertt911 wrote:

Ummm... It's okay. I think you could make the suspense from the first paragraph last a bit longer, like describing the winged-monster a bit more.    but it's quite good, and It flows well. I know how hard it is waiting for criticism... :L

  Yeah, this is the first draft, so I'm still working on it and I'll probably keep editing it.

bananaman114 wrote:

"the last thing he saw" implies that he died

Or that he went blind.

Last edited by kimmy123 (2011-09-03 10:54:20)

bananaman114 wrote:

kimmy123 wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

"the last thing he saw" implies that he died

Or that he went blind.

True

Actually, I intended that he passed out.

Bumpity bump.

PlutoIsHades wrote:

[story]

You need more suspense, more description, and what writers call a "clean" style.

Now to cultivate my obsession with rewriting other people's stories...

  Its black wings were streaked with crimson, red lightning against a dark night sky. Letting out a terrible roar that shook the Earth itself, it charged, crushing the towering trees like they were mere twigs.
  It had a body like a scorched tree trunk, except ten times as wide and twice as tall. Its head was the skull of a dinosaur, its eyes inescapable abysses. It was a monster that populated nightmares and hallucinations, the type that no one ever remembers, for their mind instinctively washed away the vision, purging it from memory.
  Heavy, talon covered feet pounded the ground, flattening the grass and the dirt beneath. It was a hunter, and it was running, running in pursuit of its prey, who had never seen anything more terrible in his fourteen years of life. Dirk was his name, and he chanced a quick glance back, and saw that it was gaining rapidly.
  He pushed back slick jagged hair, revealing beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His lungs burned, and his muscles screamed. And then, much too late, his eyes flickered to the dead branch lying innocently in front of him.
  He tripped, and then there was a cave, and it was running into him. Something cracked, and toppled, and rumbles emanated from all around as the hill collapsed. Dirk's legs gave up, and crumpled, and the world slowly turned black.

  ***
  Dirk found himself an inch above the unforgiving dirt, stained brown. The only thing keeping it from smashing his head in was a loose slab of stone above his head, and he trusted it less than he could throw it, which was none at all.
  He stumbled to his knees, arms blindly searching for a way out. There was none. His muscles began to tense, and his breathing grew rapid.
  And then he saw the dot of dirty grey light. He crawled over to it, and stuck his fingers inside the whole, digging furiously. The dirt spilled over to the remnants of the cave as he tore at it, again and again, unrelenting and unstopping.
  It was a full eternity before he had managed to widen it to the size of his head, and his fingernails were cracked and bleeding. He poked his head through, and rested.
  Fresh air flooded into his lungs, and he inhaled deeply. He had a split second to realize how tired he was before his head slumped against the sizable pile of dirt he'd dug, and fell asleep.

helltank wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

[story]

You need more suspense, more description, and what writers call a "clean" style.

Now to cultivate my obsession with rewriting other people's stories...

  Its black wings were streaked with crimson, red lightning against a dark night sky. Letting out a terrible roar that shook the Earth itself, it charged, crushing the towering trees like they were mere twigs.
  It had a body like a scorched tree trunk, except ten times as wide and twice as tall. Its head was the skull of a dinosaur, its eyes inescapable abysses. It was a monster that populated nightmares and hallucinations, the type that no one ever remembers, for their mind instinctively washed away the vision, purging it from memory.
  Heavy, talon covered feet pounded the ground, flattening the grass and the dirt beneath. It was a hunter, and it was running, running in pursuit of its prey, who had never seen anything more terrible in his fourteen years of life. Dirk was his name, and he chanced a quick glance back, and saw that it was gaining rapidly.
  He pushed back slick jagged hair, revealing beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His lungs burned, and his muscles screamed. And then, much too late, his eyes flickered to the dead branch lying innocently in front of him.
  He tripped, and then there was a cave, and it was running into him. Something cracked, and toppled, and rumbles emanated from all around as the hill collapsed. Dirk's legs gave up, and crumpled, and the world slowly turned black.

  ***
  Dirk found himself an inch above the unforgiving dirt, stained brown. The only thing keeping it from smashing his head in was a loose slab of stone above his head, and he trusted it less than he could throw it, which was none at all.
  He stumbled to his knees, arms blindly searching for a way out. There was none. His muscles began to tense, and his breathing grew rapid.
  And then he saw the dot of dirty grey light. He crawled over to it, and stuck his fingers inside the whole, digging furiously. The dirt spilled over to the remnants of the cave as he tore at it, again and again, unrelenting and unstopping.
  It was a full eternity before he had managed to widen it to the size of his head, and his fingernails were cracked and bleeding. He poked his head through, and rested.
  Fresh air flooded into his lungs, and he inhaled deeply. He had a split second to realize how tired he was before his head slumped against the sizable pile of dirt he'd dug, and fell asleep.

I changed my version some, here's what it says now.  Helltank, or whoever else, what do you think of this version?:

Chapter One

    It's black, wings streaked with red lightning.  Letting out a terrible roar, the killer charged, crushing the twisted, brittle, half-dead trees as if they were twigs.  Its hot breath warmed the air like an oven.  It felt its prey's terror, knew it was the champion, that nothing was stronger than it.   With a body like a blackened tree trunk, except ten times as wide and twice as tall, and a head like a dinosaur's in shape and size, black, its nose and mouth curved back towards its body, it was a monster out of any kid's worst nightmares - specifically the ones people never remember, because the mind pityingly discards it.
    And it was chasing fourteen-year-old Dirk. 
    Dirk chanced a glance back and saw the mother of all mutants after him.  Pushing back his ragged, dark hair (which he'd cut with his knife only that morning), he could barely breathe and his legs burned like they were on fire.  He'd never seen anything like this, not in any of the books he'd read, nor the tales he'd heard, or dreamt that something like this could exist.
    Then Dirk tripped.  With a horrified yell he didn't know he had the breath for, he stumbled over a dead branch and fell headlong into a small cave in the side of the hill!  The cold, jagged rocks sliced into his dirt-covered skin, his blood turning the dirt into a thick mud.
    The last thing he saw was the hill collapsing above him.

Chapter Two

    Dirk woke and found himself almost crushed under the tons of dirt that had once been the hill.  The only thing saving his life was the slab of stone above his head, which he could feel slipping a tiny fraction down every few minutes.  Crawling to his knees, Dirk felt around to see how much space he had. 
    He was in an area barely bigger than himself and Dirk's breathing grew rapid as he pressed his hands anxiously against the walls of his underground prison.  No! he thought, I can't die like this!
    Then the dot of dirty gray sunlight fell on his dirty, bloodied face. Mesmerized by the tiny window to the outside, he peered out through the hole no bigger around than his pinkie finger.  Suddenly, he began to dig at it furiously!  The dirt spilled into what remained of the cave as Dirk's fingers tore at it, squishing him even more.  The stone gave an ominous rumble and settled a couple millimeters closer to the teenaged boy.
    After what seemed like an eternity of tearing at the dirt and soil, Dirk had dug a hole the size of his head.  He rested, his head poking into the dim evening light.
    Now that he could breathe again, Dirk realized just how tired he was.  Taking a deep breath and sighing with relief, he settled back against the pile of pebbly dirt he'd dug and fell asleep.

Bumpity bumpity...