Dan101

This is a story Ive been writing for a while now. I have five chapters written so far, so Ill only post chapter I for starters. However, I would really like for all five to be critiqued eventually if it would be too much trouble. Thanks, I really appreciate it.

My indentions arent working on this site for some reason, so I separated each paragraph with spaces. Sorry about that...

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CRIMSON RAIN
CHAPTER I
THE CRIMSON RAIN

Zethren walked casually among the long grass of the spring fields, as he gazed at the clouds passing so freely. Often times he envied the clouds, so carefree, simply drifting through life untouched by war. Zethren had long grown tired of battle. His sword had long since lost the lust for blood it once craved, and it showed in the roughness of the blade. His jet black hair, shoulder length, flowed amongst the breeze. He was sure the war would continue, and never truly end. The third of the Great Wars. The only truly Great War. Unlike the previous two, this war had seen thousands of bloody conflicts spanning almost over two hundred years. The shadow of war had spread its grasp among the entire world by this time, and Zethren knew it would never end in his lifetime.

For over twenty-seven years, the warrior had fought against the armies of darkness, helping to clench victory in many tight situations. A highly revered soldier, Zethren never cared much for attention. At the young age of nine he had already drenched his hands in the enemy's blood, as they had destroyed all that Zethren saw good in his world of hatred and despair.

His mind wandered a bit, allowing him to some what relax from the seemingly non-stop commotion the war had brought to him. Memories of past events flashed through his thoughts. He could feel his sword growing heavier, and more reluctant to service its wielder. The five foot long zanbato strapped to his back dragged its edge along the earthen crust, leaving behind a thing trench. The black cloak draped around him fluttered around in the breeze, creating a somewhat demonic aura about the warrior.

The long grass, yellow and dead due to drought, seemed to be fully aware of the approaching arrival of a storm. In fact, it almost welcomed one the way it stood so straight. The grass got longer, and the earth became more solid, as Zethren reached his destination. A one thousand year old cathedral, half destroyed, standing atop a grassy hill. The other half seemed overgrown with vine and moss, the black stones almost weathered to the point where they would glisten in the sun. The only true remnant of beauty, a monstrous stained glass window atop the central entrance, of which was crumbling to the ground.

He entered the church grounds, taking notice of the weathered tomb stones that dotted the yards. Black crows perched on several trees among the church grounds, giving the scenery an eerie feel. Zethren opened the ancient doors, standing almost three times as tall as the warrior himself. Sunlight pierced through the thickness of the shadows of the church interior. Rays of light entered through cracks in the windows, almost as if they were spotlights shining onto the stone cold floor below.

The stone structure reeked of dry blood and rusting metal, a smell Zethren had grown all too accustomed to. The skeletal remains of warriors long since defeated scattered the stone flooring and stone caskets, which seemed oddly out of place. The warrior looked back over his shoulder, reacting to the feint noise of the ancient door closing slowly. He smirked, and swung his arm around. His hand was a blur, as he quickly threw a kunai knife towards the ancient wooden door of the cathedral. The kunai nailed the door, causing a portion of it to split. The noise of the impact rang throughout the cathedral. I slight glisten in front of the door proved Zethren’s judgment to be correct. A severed portion of a thing string was attached to the door, and causing it to shut slowly. Zethren knew he was not alone.

“Your attempts of intimidation through fear will not work on me” he said, sliding his right foot across the cold dank stone floor. “Show yourself.” Zethren’s attention now on the wooden rafters above, he looked for any clue of an adversary. The rafters shook briefly, as Zethren reached for the zanbato sword strapped to his back. His attention immediately shifted to the casket directly behind him, as he realized his opponent was not in the rafters.

“Oh, but they will.” A shadowy figure balanced himself as he hunched over behind Zethren, his feet perfectly balancing the weight of his body on the casket. “They will.”

Zethren spun around swinging his sword, raising his right foot off the ground. Quickly, the figure parried the blow with a long white katana, the blade pointing directly towards the ground. A small spark emitted from the clashing steel, as Zethren smirked at the fact that this adversary may in fact have some skill worth combating. The figure returned a wide smile, however soon realized error he had just made. Zethren’s right foot nailed the figure directly in the chest, throwing him back against the blackened stone wall. The figure landed perfectly on the wall, as easily as if he would have he landed on the ground. With all four of his limbs clutching the wall, his katana was now clasped in his mouth by the hilt. He let out brief laugh through his clenched teeth, and then hurled himself towards Zethren. Zethren brought his zanbato up into the air to parry the blow. However, instead of colliding with the sword head on, the figure used Zethren’s blade as a momentary foothold, then tossed his body up into the rafters.

All Zethren could hear were repeated foot steps running around the wooden rafters of the cathedral. “What the hell is going on here…” he thought to himself as he tightened his grip on his sword. A loud cackle followed the foot steps of Zethren’s opponent. Zethren leapt into the rafters, and maintained his balance by holding his sword out in front of him, directly parallel to the ground.

“Gotcha!” Zethren heard as he realized what had just happened. He had just leapt into a trap. A very intricate trap at that. Zethren’s sword fell to the ground with a loud metallic clang, as he tripped the wires and strings set all over the rafters. Kunai knives and shuriken throwing stars were hurled towards Zethren at an incredible pace. His black cloak began to tear almost everywhere, exposing his light set of armor beneath, currently separating him from instant death. He unsheathed two small wakizashi from his side and began to parry the incoming projectiles.

“No! You’re not supposed to survive!” screamed the opponent as he dropped to the rafters from the ceiling above. The traps had all been used up, and only about a quarter of the blades had inflicted damage. The figure marched towards Zethren, unsheathing his white katana, and scowling at his failed trap.

“Judging by the tools you use” Zethren muttered, while simultaneously parrying a swing of his opponent’s sword, “I’d say you were a member of the elite group of shinobi from the east.” He finished as he parried another swing.

The ninja scowled again, continuously swinging his katana viciously. Zethren crossed his two wakizashi parrying an overhead swing from his shinobi attacker. Zethren extended his arms outwards, creating a scissor like function of his swords, and throwing the sword from his attacker’s hands. This knocked the shinobi off balance. Zethren lifted his leg, nailing his opponent square in the face with the heel of his boot. The force kicked the ninja off the rafter, and through the ancient glass window above the entrance to the church.

The ninja hit the church grounds with a loud thud. He cringed, and placed his hands on his stomach. He let out a small laugh. Shards of stained glass jutted out of his stomach and right leg. Blood streamed from his mouth, staining the pristine grass below. The ninja looked through the gaping hole in the once beautiful stain glass window, and saw Zethren standing upon the rafter, looking down at him. Zethren’s long black hair was in a complete mess, and blood dripped down off of his face. The ninja let out another small laugh, and drifted off into the great unknown.

Zethren sheathed the two swords, and jumped to the bloody stone floor below. He approached the center of the cathedral, a large casket standing atop a tall platform. Zethren reached into a pouch on his side, and removed a crimson red rose. He placed it atop the casket, picked up his zanbato, and draped the remnants of his cloak over his shoulders. As he exited the cathedral, he noticed the body of the ninja he had slain was missing. His attention swiftly turned to the electrical storm brewing over head, as rain quickly began to pour to the earth. Zethren faced the sky, allowing the rain to wash away the blood. He hoped that just maybe, the rain would too wash away his worries. The bloody rain dripped to the ground, filling the puddle of blood the shinobi had created. He watched it grow larger and larger with an odd curiosity. He hated it. He hated it so much. The endless crimson rain.

falco

First of all, there are no indents on this site – so we all just space out paragraphs.

And here we go:

For better flow, try “It was obvious by the roughness of the blade that his sword had long since lost the lust for the blood it once craved.”

Spread its grasp sounds kind of weird. Maybe say the shadow of war now covered the entire world, or the shadow of war had seized the entire world.

Do you mean this world?
And saw good is awkward. Maybe all that Zethren loved, or all that was good would work better?

Somewhat is sloppy. If you want him to relax, then have him do it, but not half-ass.

I think you mean thin.

Same as above. What’s wrong with a more than somewhat demonic aura? Maybe try saying “…giving him a demonic appearance/aura.”

First sentence: drop seemed and almost (replace seemed with was). Second sentence: drop of.

The stuff after the comma is unnecessary. Most people would imagine very tall cathedral doors – that’s what they’re like. If you want to emphasize it, say “the towering, ancient doors”

Again, no almost. Try: “Rays of light pierced the window cracks, illuminating the cold stone floor below.”

For better flow, try: “The skeletal remains of long-defeated warriors lay scattered among the stone caskets, which were odd remnants from the past.” That last bit isn’t great, but I think the first part improves yours.

faint

A?

thin

We already know it’s cold and stone. If you want to keep these, you’ll need a comma after cold.

This would be more exciting as well as be more showing and less telling if you said something like: “The figure’s wide smile suddenly contorted into a grimace as it felt the impact of Zethren’s foot on his chest; the blow sent him flying towards a blackened wall.” Not perfect, but perhaps a little better.

First, gotcha doesn’t fit, in my opinion – it reminds me too much of five year olds playing tag. Second, rework these three sentences so you aren’t telling us there is a trap. Have the trap happen to him, rather than tell us he has walked into one. It’ll be more exciting and surprising for the reader.

I think you need to add something like “…beneath, the only thing separating him…”

Again, kind of childish. It made me laugh out loud, which was certainly not your intent.

Again, made me laugh. Would he really take the time to say this while fighting? It gives the feel of being totally scripted, and scripted for a parody at that. It’s almost like having him say “Judging by the smell of your breath, I’d say you ate scrambled eggs and ketchup for dinner.” Have Zethren remark on this to himself once the fight is over.

One question. Why did the ninja laugh while dying? That seemed kind of cliché, unless it will have meaning later on.

To me, center is an area, a region, not a thing. A casket is not a region. Maybe replace center with centerpiece, or try “He approached a large casket on a tall platform in the center of the cathedral.”

This certainly has potential. However, it didn’t really draw me in and I am rather indifferent to your character. Obviously, this is just the beginning so you have plenty of opportunity to create more interest. Keep writing!

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"The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself."
- Albert Camus

Dan101

Thanks so much for your thoughts! Yes, I know I have tons of spelling errors in there that I didnt catch the first time rereading it. I went back and changed em, but it seems that it didnt save the changes or somthing...

hmmm. lol anyway, thanks so much for all the thoughts. If you like, I could post other chapters.

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Dan101

Forgive me for the double post, but I forgot to answer your question.

Yes, there is a reason why the ninja laughed. There is also a reason why he was missing when Zethren left the cathedral grounds. Hes a character that appears later on in the story ^_^

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