Thread: Project Noir

Revised prologue.

I never knew true night until I left the city. It was not just a shade of darkness—it was a complete and total void, where you could see what lied ahead of you, behind you, or even next to you. It was the nature of this demonic night, only pierced by light. I felt the cold air like a blade running menacingly along my skin. This should have been expected, though. We were on a scouting vehicle, with men on seats built onto the sides of the vehicle. There was little comfort in it, as the vehicle itself was about the size of a van with a more rigid shape. We were being flung around in our seats, I was like a giddy child jumping up and down in the cold metal chair. I felt the gun I held in my hand, but I couldn’t see it. I held my finger on the trigger, ready for any moment when the demons would strike. We can’t have lights here, it would attract them, and then battle would be imminent. We wanted the least amount of trouble as possible.
We’ve already been in three battles. I had become comfortable in my rhythm, the soft churning of the wheels, and hum of the engine in our scouting truck. I heard the occasional rustle of the uniforms of the exorcists around me, and that gave me comfort in knowing I was not the only one in this mess. Scouting new lands for colonization wasn’t particularly dangerous, but it did provide a few battles. Small demon hordes, just weak monsters usually, trying to defend themselves against a perceived threat. It was not much to worry about. We were lax for now. Our route was almost done and we would be reaching the next base in no time at all.
I felt like taking a nap, but for now I had to settle for just a yawn, not a fair concession if you ask me. But it was that moment in time when I yawned, that the battle had begun. It started with an explosion like a roar of thunder rumbling through the air. Its light was a both magnificent and terrifying burst of reds oranges and yellow in a small plume. “Arms ready!” I heard a voice yell.
I was alert at once, and turned on my light, attacked to the top of my rifle, and jumped out of my seat onto the ground. I was barely able to breathe. The air seemed thick with my apprehension, with my anxiousness. I licked my lips, and tasted the salt of my sweat. I could hear the violent beats of my heart in my head. I felt my stomach churn a whirlpool, and my mind was frantic. The light of my rifle was sharp on the blackness of the nighttime, but it was too small. I whipped it around here and there looking for the beasts.
I could hear their growls. Their clicking. Their movement. I almost felt their biding.
I heard the buzz as the main lights turned on. They were large lights at the top of each truck, and their light provided us the sight to be able to battle demons. We all fell back onto the lights, walking backwards and holding our guns always ready for a strike.
The only movement was from the dancing of the fire that remained from that blast.It must have been one of the scouting cars. The smell of burning flesh was already greeting my nostrils. I could even feel the heat, contrasted by the absolute coldness of this place. I heard the snarls become louder, and with it I began to whip my gun around even more. I felt a greater sense that the beast was right behind me, toying with me.
First came an inhuman shriek. The sounds of glass shattering alerted us to one of the scout trucks losing its light, shattered by a demon.
Then came the flash of red eyes.
We all focused out lights to the sound, and saw one of our own held down by inhuman black arms. We lit this darkness with the glow of the rifle barrels. Their sound was even more deafening and violent because it was punctuated by the low sounds and otherwise complete silence of this night.
The beast shrieked but was soon silent, and our guns followed in suit. All our lights focused on the beast on the ground. I walked towards it for a better look. It resembled the shape of a dog, wrinkled and with black plates all around it. It had a flatter face, and four beady eyes glowing crimson with bloodlust—they were in the wrong places, as if they had been placed randomly and without the slightest bit of care onto the creature. Its forearms were long, with sharp claws with blood caked to it.
“It’s,” one said, at a loss for words, merely touching his foot to see if it was dead or not, “repulsive.”
We heard another shattering sound, and now there was only one scout light left—the one immediately behind me.
We had to defend it, else we would be fighting blind. I looked but only saw the darkness of the forest. We heard one demon’s battle cry far above us. I quickly looked behind myself to see the demons coming down upon the light. It was too late—I could only watch as it crushed the light. We were left to see its red eyes looking ravenously upon us. We did not give it a chance, our bullets flew at the demon at once.
More howling came right after our second kill. These weren’t strong demons. But we had no light, and without the light we were as good as blind mice in this situation. We could only run—though the mice would at least be able to escape. We now knew that there was another. Our gun lights flew around in the space of darkness once again, needles of light in this vast ocean. I could even hear the trembling of my hands as it tapped the metal of my gun. The growl was low. I could almost sense the anticipation in it.
The next shriek came, followed by the crunch of teeth onto bone. We fired at once. I could see a body shaking as it was ravaged by bullets, its blood spewing. We stopped firing and our comrade fell dead to the floor an unrecognizable red mess.
We couldn’t think of him now. We were suddenly thrown into confusion. I started to notice the beating of my heart more and more until it was the only thing I could hear. My vision became more of a collection of frantic images.
Once again the sound came. That growl, suppressed like that of a lion, was already heard again. It wasn’t just my imagination this time. I heard it close to me. And it was soon followed by the terrifying roar. I shot at once, blindly around myself. I was lucky I didn’t hit a friend. I was lucky I didn’t miss. I came right onto the demon, and I let the bullets pump into him. The beast fell to the ground. All our lights were focused on it. I could see the holes with bluish liquid pouring out of them. It was like the last one, and lay on its belly.
Then there was only silence. I felt calm. It was peaceful again. I kicked the beast and smiled to myself. This is our job. We are exorcists. Defenders of man from the demons of the night. We will regain this earth entirely for the human race one day. One demon corpse at a time. “Nice job,” I heard, along with a hand on my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I said with a prideful smile on my face. But I quickly realized that no one else was cheering me at all. I heard a growl, low like a lions. I looked up, and I could see the others faintly from the of their guns. But they weren’t happy at all. They looked frightened. Scared out of their minds. They were paralyzed before me.
It came again with a deep scratchy tone in the voice, “ Nice job.” I only moved my head a bit and saw the glowing red eyes.

Beautifully written, especially nice description. I feel there could be a tad bit more emotion though, and I'd really like to see you make it different from a stereotypical demon story. I really liked the ending too, extremely well done. Again, I only ask you make it different from a stereotypical demon story.

Originally Posted by Nevermore

Beautifully written, especially nice description. I feel there could be a tad bit more emotion though, and I'd really like to see you make it different from a stereotypical demon story. I really liked the ending too, extremely well done. Again, I only ask you make it different from a stereotypical demon story.

thanks, and that is the goal. This is basically an introduction to the idea of the movie. I'm putty roughly 2,000 words in each post. so here's the next 3 scenes. i have about 5 people whose 1st person perpective i switch back and forth from. I may switch into other rarely just for the effect. You don't need to know this before you read it, just thought i'd mention it.

Here's the the first three scenes of chapter 1. And also, if anyone knows how to put the formatting (i.e. double space) into this, please do tell.

Armand Dulis
There’s something so calming about the rain. Maybe it’s the simple pattering it makes as it hits the ground, all collected to create a great symphony. Or maybe the way it paints the world in soft shades of gray and brings a strangely calming light, how sometimes it brings violent storms and other times it’s peaceful. The first thing I remember of that day was the rain. It woke me up. My vision slowly turned from absolute darkness to a deep maroon shade. It was the ceiling. I looked to my side—the rain was beating against the window. I sat up on my bed, and looked around. There was still a box of pizza from last night lying on the floor. Crushed cans of soda were still sitting on my desk, and they were next to my laptop which was still on. At least my clothes aren’t strewn everywhere, I thought. I got off my bed, and saw a pair of shorts on the ground, “And I spoke too soon,” I muttered to myself. I walked over to my dresser and opened the top drawer for a shirt.
“Armand!” Aimee called.
“I’m awake!” I shouted back to her. Aimee’s like a biological mother, only louder. I rushed out of my room and to the kitchen while putting on my shirt. When I finally got there, I could see a woman sitting at the table, sipping her coffee. She had her dark brunette hair tied in a bun and was wearing a black business suit with those classical white stripes running down it. She looked up to me, “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I said back, slumping into my chair.
“Oh,” she jumped a little in her seat with her eyes opening in sudden realization, “Your breakfast is in the kitchen, I have to go.” She started to get up, grabbing her purse that sat next to her chair.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” she said as she swung her purse over her shoulders, “The keys for the other car are sitting next to your breakfast” She paused for a moment, “Don’t kill anybody.”
“I won’t,” I laughed, “Only a few accidents at best.”
“Good bye then,” she waved goodbye.
I gave big wave goodbye with my whole arm, “Adios.”
My smile quickly faded when she left. School’s a bitch, I thought, Better get this crap over and done with.
§§§
Aimee DuLis
Off to work. I got out of my car. The Exorcist Guild Headquarters is an amazing site, but I guess after seeing it so often for the past 17 years, it doesn’t seem to faze you. I being the hotshot I am, work at the main palace complex. It reminds you of Versailles. Its front looks like a Greek or Roman temple, with its pillars and triangular roof. But it was a deep shade of red, with a golden finish on the carving written into the pillars and the face of the roof. I could see the wings of the palace flanking it, and coming out from behind it. The windows were tall and capped with gold, and you could even see the rich drapery that hung in them. The only real thing that was, I guess could be considered ‘out of place’ was the parking lot. It was right in front of the palace. It just seems odd to have this beautiful palace and a parking lot with a menagerie of cars in front of it. But what can I do?
The first thing I encountered at the entrance was a small room. It’s very plain and just has one desk in it. Sitting there was one of the Exorcists in his uniform. It’s a long black robe with the guild insignia – a simple sort of red eagle with a halo encircling it in its legs and wings. “Hello, Aimee,” he said.
“Hey,” I smiled, shuffling through my purse for my ID card.
“Messy as usual?” he smirked.
I gave him my card, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
After a quick swipe through his scanner, he handed it back to me, “You know the drill. See ya now.” He raised his hand quickly for a wave goodbye.
“Bye-bye,” I gave him a wave back.
There was a space between the desk and wall that was cut off by a small door. The door very quickly retracted into the desk for me to come in. I pressed my finger to a scanner next to the door, and opened the room into the rotunda. It’s just as grand as the palace itself, the solid marble stairs as the centerpiece or the place. It almost did seem that the stone angels at either side of the rotunda were real from the tenderness in their faces to their soft billowy robes. But I know enough about angels to know that that is a completely inaccurate portrayal.
First order of business for me is usually to get myself a cup of coffee. But not today. It didn’t even take a minute in that rotunda before a paige came running through. He spotted me instantly and ran in a fashion that kind of reminded me of a penguin, what with his black uniform an all. “Ms. DuLis!” he shouted out.
“Yes?”
He slowed his step and came to me panting, “Colonel 1^st Class Whitley called you for an urgent matter.”
Everything’s always an urgent matter in this place. But I played along anyway. “Alright, where?”
“Follow me,” the paige said, taking a few steps and then looking back to me. It took a few minutes for the nervous looking guy to lead me through all the twists and turns, but we finally reached a meeting room. It was an elegantly designed room, a mix of alternating brown and blue stripes with a few decorations. They were mostly naval stuff—tridents, badges, mythical portraits. All crowned with a massive image of a shipwreck on a rocky coast. Even in the form it was in, you could tell that the ship must have been majestic. And it only gave you even more melancholy to see it a wrecked skeleton of former glories.
Sitting there was Colonel Whitley. He was pouring himself over his papers, unaware that I had arrived. He’s one of those people that remind you of your grandfather—a kind old man. You could see it in his gentle expression. He had those eyes which reassured you no matter what, the ones that were able to look at everything justly. And he had one of those faces which looked like they just had become permanently pink from constant laughter. God knows how a man so gentle became an Exorcist.
“Colonel,” I addressed him.
“Yes?” he said looking up to me, “Oh, yes! Commandant DuLis, I need to speak with you.” He waved his arm once over the chair across from his own.
“What do you need?” I asked as I sat myself down.
“It’s not so much what I need, Aimee,” he said, with a grimace that seemed like it didn’t belong on his face.
“Then,” I thought for a moment, “What do I need?”
“It’s not about you either.”
“Then who is it about?” I questioned him.
“It’s about Armand,” he said, ending it with a sigh, looking away from me. He didn’t want to hear this either.
It’s a moment that just freezes you. It makes you shake a little. Sends a chill down your back. It’s that moment when you know exactly what he’s gonna say. You know what this will be about. And you just loathe it. My eyes were drawn to the shipwreck portrait as I listened to the news.
§§§
Adelaide Giorgio
Saint Bartholomew High School—never loved it, but I’ve never hated it either. But there are the moments where I just wanna die. This is the fifth straight day of finals review. I can’t pay attention to the lecture anymore, I’m just looking around and doodling in my notebook. I’ve already been accepted to a University, and this just seems to be a formality before I can leave this dump. It’ll be pretty lonely I guess. Out of all my friends, I’m the only one who got into the Guild Academy. Though, I can always keep in touch with my friends. The Guild is a big deal—the biggest deal of my life so far.
The class was clinging on the teacher’s every word as if they hadn’t heard about it yesterday. I just looked and just tried to hide my smile. There was just one person here other than me that seemed bored. He looked a bit Arab, he didn’t look too athletic, but at least he wasn’t chubby. He just sighed from time to time, nothing else. I remember his name being Armand. But I didn’t know much else about him, really.
He’s the guy that walks around like a shadow. I think he was looking at me, because after a few seconds of looking at him, he seemed to jump. His cheeks turned red, and he looked away to the corner of the wall. I smiled. He’s one of the more innocent people you see. He didn’t look threatening, just a little shy.
The bell finally rang. “Well, class,” the English teacher said, “Finals are next week. Be prepared.”
I got up from my seat and saw that Arab boy start to make his way out the room all by himself, his head turned down. “Hey,” I called over to him. His head snapped back up, and he had a bit of a blank expression on his face.
“Yeah?” he finally said, with a raised eyebrow and a countenance that kind of asked what I wanted from him.
“What’s your next class?” I asked.
“European History,” he replied plainly.
“Oh, me too!” I smiled.
“You’re in my class aren’t you? I think you are,” he looked up into the corner of his eye, trying to remember.
“Yep. Why don’t I walk with you over there?” He seemed so lonely I had to offer him some sort of company.
He was stunned for a second, you could see it in his eyes—when they seemed to burst right open with color, “Sure!”
“So where are you going after this?” I asked him as we walked out.
“I have lunch,” he responded.
“No,” I giggled, “As in what university or college.”
“Nowhere big,” he replied plainly, “I got accepted to some of the small name schools and colleges.”
“None of the universities or academies?” I asked him.
“No, never really even bothered to apply to them.”
“Why not!?” I was a little bewildered. I may not know that much about him, but he’s a pretty smart kid. I couldn’t imagine someone just wasting talent on just some regular secondary school or college. “You could have made it easily into a university, Armand.”
“Eh, I know,” he shrugged, “I just don’t think I’d survive in that sort of environment. All those high standards – working, being productive, having goals, expectations—”
He just looked at me for a moment, “I wasn’t trying to be funny,” he smiled, almost laughing.
“I’m sure you could do great,” I told him.
He just sighed, then asked, “What about you?”
“I’m going to the Guild Academy,” I could never hide my smile when I said that.
“Wow, the big-shot academy,” he said, when, as far as I can tell, he just tripped on his own foot. He quickly regained his composure, “Walk and talk,” he commanded himself.
“Sounds like a plan,” I laughed, “And yes, it is kind of like a big shot academy I guess.”
“You guess? It’s a sure fact!” he exclaimed. “That University takes you places. My mother went there. She works at the guild headquarters now,” he said.
“Oh well then,” I looked at him matter-of-factly, “You would have had an advantage if you applied.”
“Like I said,” he told me once more, “Just not my thing.”
“You should have some sort of drive for it, you know,” I said. “This is you future. You should care. The places you can go if you—”
“I hate to cut you off, but I only have one thing to say to you right now.”
“Yeah?” I was a bit puzzled.
He smirked, “Get ready for more finals review.”
“For what?” I just looked at him as he took a turn into a room—to be exact, our European History Classroom. More finals review, just great.

Okay. You have some pretty significant areas for improvement here. I'll try to help I'm focusing just on the prologue right now, but these tips will help with all your writing.

1. Figure out what tense you're writing in and stay there. I noticed you shifting tense a few times, which is jarring on the reader. You wrote, "it is a complete and total void, where you cannot see what lied ahead of you. "Is" and "cannot" are present tense; "lied" is past tense. You should write "lies" instead to maintain present tense narrative. Or change "is" to "was" and "cannot" to "could not."
I held my finger on the trigger, ready for any moment when the demons will strike. Again, "held" is past tense, but "will strike" is present tense. It should be "hold" for present tense and "would strike" for past tense. Always make sure you're using correct tense.

2. Here's a big one. Work on eliminating your use of superfluous words. This piece contains a great deal of wordy explanations and prefaces, far more than necessary. Some examples of what I mean: I had begun to become comfortable in my rhythm. Consider this instead, "I was comfortable in my rhythm." OR "I had grown comfortable in my rhythm." Really. Less is so much more. "Begun to become" is awkward sounding. Plus, "begun" is the past participle of "begin," and past participles are rarely needed in fiction. You are describing a scene that is happening to your character, not something that he had started to do awhile ago, right?

It was that moment when I yawned—that exact second in time—that the battle had begun "That moment" and "that exact second in time" are exactly what I mean by superfluous. They are clutter. They are unnecessary because it is already implied that what you have written is happening at "that moment." Readers know this already. Every moment is an exact moment in time, right? Why not just write "The battle began."? Readers will appreciate it, I promise More words are only better if those words are actually doing something to enhance your story.

they were in the wrong places, as if they had been placed randomly That's just reiterating.

We fired out bullets at once to the sound of the shrieks. Obviously, you fired bullets. Bullets are what come out of a gun, it would only be remarkable if your character possessed a gun that fired something other than bullets. Like plasma or tranq. darts. Don't waste words on the obvious. Also, just write "fired" instead of "fired out." The "out" part of the sentence is implied already with the word "fired." It would be the same as writing it this way: "We fired bullets. Bullets came out of our guns." Same thing with "at once." It is already implied. Everyone understands that projectiles are shot instantaneously from a weapon once the trigger is pulled. Here's a better sentence for you to copy and paste for free: "We fired at the sound of the shrieks." Simple. Stronger.

3. Work on your similes. A simile is when you compare one thing to something else, especially by using the words "like" or "as." It is a great and powerful way to paint a picture in the readers' minds. But it should be used sparingly, and ONLY when the simile is evocative. How many times have you read, "sank like a stone" in fiction? Too many, right? Be careful of dull or cliched similes because readers tend to skip right over these without it registering when the idea is to have to opposite effect!

You wrote, It started with a blast like a blast of thunder rumbling through the air. Thunder rumbling is pretty good, but comparing a blast to another blast is bad. Try something that actually makes readers think, or better yet, feel the sensation you're trying to describe. It works best when you compare things that are actually dissimilar. Here's a few that I used in a story I wrote: "It was quiet but for the cawing of scavenger birds that spread out like a blanket onto the purple night sky." And, "The meal was greasy and wonderful; it sank like a warm sunset into the empty pit of his stomach." Be original!

4. “It’s,” one said, at a loss for words, “repulsive.” This is just a bad sentence. Who is the "one" in this? You never specify. Consider: "'It's repulsive," someone said.'" If you're going to separate quotations with a speaker attribution in the middle, try to at least separate the independent clauses. Would you want to read a sentence such as: "'I think I,' he said as he was walking down the street, but before he encountered the lady in a red hat, "am going to buy some ice cream."? Probably not.

5. Don't use passive language; it's flat and boring. What I mean is this: stop writing things like I could already hear more growling. and I could see a body shaking and I could hear the occasional rustle when you can simply make your verbs stronger by changing the tense. "I heard more growling," and "I saw a body shaking," and "I heard the occasional rustle." Readers prefer lines such as these. I encourage you to try this and see how much more forceful and interesting your writing will become. It's a very easy fix

6. Be precise and clear! Be descriptive! and show, don't tell! You mention a "scouting vehicle" at least three times, but never describe it. How can I form a picture of what you mean? Is it a jeep, a sedan, a truck? Is it covered or open-top? Armored? Dingy and rusted or glossy and brand new? does it smell like car wax or leather interior, are the seats cushioned and saggy or hard plastic and stiff? Is it pistachio green or honey mustard yellow or what? etc, etc. Rather than repeat a generic term over and over, you should try to pick out a detail or two that will really stick out in the reader's mind. Something unusual rather than common. If I were going to describe a kitchen, do you think I'd say "It has a fridge and a stove and some cupboards"? No. I'd talk about how it smelled of disinfectant and had a bowl of overripe home-grown apples on the speckled marble counter-tops, etc.

Precision: The air was filled with fear now. Air cannot be filled with fear. Air is air. Show us something scary rather than telling us that something is scary. Readers want to discover your characters and your world on their own. Let them make up their own minds when to be afraid. Instead of saying something like "John was scared." Tell us about the beads of sweat forming on his brow, or the way his hands tremble or how his breathing has grown more rapid. Trust your audience to figure it out. They will.

My heart was beating in my head One's heart does not and cannot beat in one's head. That is where our brains are. A person can, however, feel his pulse inside his head. Try to be clear, always.

I could hear their growls. Their clicking. Their movement. Their biding. "Biding" is not something that makes a sound. It cannot ever be heard. Other sounds can be heard that may indicate that someone or something is biding their time, etc. But you can't hear biding.

The light of my rifle was sharp on the nighttime No. "Nighttime" is not a tangible thing. It is, well, a time of day when there is no sun. Light can't shine on nighttime itself, it can only shine on the absence of light that occurs during nighttime.

“Thanks,” I said with an irremovable smile on my face. Irremovable means "not able to be removed." Literally. Consider a better word.

Good luck!

Hmm, I feel like the second chapter is a bit dissorienting since I can't really tell if it's a screen play or a book. If it's a screenplay, you may want to focus more on words and actions, only give one or two words to actually describe or emotionalize actions. If it's a book, you need to focus less on the dialogue and more on emotion and setting, because you hop between the two. The description is very nice though. You paint a very nice world with this, intriguing and deep. While the story and rythme are nice, I recommend giving it a scouring look over and rephrasing some sentences.

Originally Posted by Seehawkrun

Okay. You have some pretty significant areas for improvement here. I'll try to help I'm focusing just on the prologue right now, but these tips will help with all your writing.

1. Figure out what tense you're writing in and stay there. I noticed you shifting tense a few times, which is jarring on the reader. You wrote, "it is a complete and total void, where you cannot see what lied ahead of you. "Is" and "cannot" are present tense; "lied" is past tense. You should write "lies" instead to maintain present tense narrative. Or change "is" to "was" and "cannot" to "could not."
I held my finger on the trigger, ready for any moment when the demons will strike. Again, "held" is past tense, but "will strike" is present tense. It should be "hold" for present tense and "would strike" for past tense. Always make sure you're using correct tense.

2. Here's a big one. Work on eliminating your use of superfluous words. This piece contains a great deal of wordy explanations and prefaces, far more than necessary. Some examples of what I mean: I had begun to become comfortable in my rhythm. Consider this instead, "I was comfortable in my rhythm." OR "I had grown comfortable in my rhythm." Really. Less is so much more. "Begun to become" is awkward sounding. Plus, "begun" is the past participle of "begin," and past participles are rarely needed in fiction. You are describing a scene that is happening to your character, not something that he had started to do awhile ago, right?

It was that moment when I yawned—that exact second in time—that the battle had begun "That moment" and "that exact second in time" are exactly what I mean by superfluous. They are clutter. They are unnecessary because it is already implied that what you have written is happening at "that moment." Readers know this already. Every moment is an exact moment in time, right? Why not just write "The battle began."? Readers will appreciate it, I promise More words are only better if those words are actually doing something to enhance your story.

they were in the wrong places, as if they had been placed randomly That's just reiterating.

We fired out bullets at once to the sound of the shrieks. Obviously, you fired bullets. Bullets are what come out of a gun, it would only be remarkable if your character possessed a gun that fired something other than bullets. Like plasma or tranq. darts. Don't waste words on the obvious. Also, just write "fired" instead of "fired out." The "out" part of the sentence is implied already with the word "fired." It would be the same as writing it this way: "We fired bullets. Bullets came out of our guns." Same thing with "at once." It is already implied. Everyone understands that projectiles are shot instantaneously from a weapon once the trigger is pulled. Here's a better sentence for you to copy and paste for free: "We fired at the sound of the shrieks." Simple. Stronger.

3. Work on your similes. A simile is when you compare one thing to something else, especially by using the words "like" or "as." It is a great and powerful way to paint a picture in the readers' minds. But it should be used sparingly, and ONLY when the simile is evocative. How many times have you read, "sank like a stone" in fiction? Too many, right? Be careful of dull or cliched similes because readers tend to skip right over these without it registering when the idea is to have to opposite effect!

You wrote, It started with a blast like a blast of thunder rumbling through the air. Thunder rumbling is pretty good, but comparing a blast to another blast is bad. Try something that actually makes readers think, or better yet, feel the sensation you're trying to describe. It works best when you compare things that are actually dissimilar. Here's a few that I used in a story I wrote: "It was quiet but for the cawing of scavenger birds that spread out like a blanket onto the purple night sky." And, "The meal was greasy and wonderful; it sank like a warm sunset into the empty pit of his stomach." Be original!

4. “It’s,” one said, at a loss for words, “repulsive.” This is just a bad sentence. Who is the "one" in this? You never specify. Consider: "'It's repulsive," someone said.'" If you're going to separate quotations with a speaker attribution in the middle, try to at least separate the independent clauses. Would you want to read a sentence such as: "'I think I,' he said as he was walking down the street, but before he encountered the lady in a red hat, "am going to buy some ice cream."? Probably not.

5. Don't use passive language; it's flat and boring. What I mean is this: stop writing things like I could already hear more growling. and I could see a body shaking and I could hear the occasional rustle when you can simply make your verbs stronger by changing the tense. "I heard more growling," and "I saw a body shaking," and "I heard the occasional rustle." Readers prefer lines such as these. I encourage you to try this and see how much more forceful and interesting your writing will become. It's a very easy fix

6. Be precise and clear! Be descriptive! and show, don't tell! You mention a "scouting vehicle" at least three times, but never describe it. How can I form a picture of what you mean? Is it a jeep, a sedan, a truck? Is it covered or open-top? Armored? Dingy and rusted or glossy and brand new? does it smell like car wax or leather interior, are the seats cushioned and saggy or hard plastic and stiff? Is it pistachio green or honey mustard yellow or what? etc, etc. Rather than repeat a generic term over and over, you should try to pick out a detail or two that will really stick out in the reader's mind. Something unusual rather than common. If I were going to describe a kitchen, do you think I'd say "It has a fridge and a stove and some cupboards"? No. I'd talk about how it smelled of disinfectant and had a bowl of overripe home-grown apples on the speckled marble counter-tops, etc.

Precision: The air was filled with fear now. Air cannot be filled with fear. Air is air. Show us something scary rather than telling us that something is scary. Readers want to discover your characters and your world on their own. Let them make up their own minds when to be afraid. Instead of saying something like "John was scared." Tell us about the beads of sweat forming on his brow, or the way his hands tremble or how his breathing has grown more rapid. Trust your audience to figure it out. They will.

My heart was beating in my head One's heart does not and cannot beat in one's head. That is where our brains are. A person can, however, feel his pulse inside his head. Try to be clear, always.

I could hear their growls. Their clicking. Their movement. Their biding. "Biding" is not something that makes a sound. It cannot ever be heard. Other sounds can be heard that may indicate that someone or something is biding their time, etc. But you can't hear biding.

The light of my rifle was sharp on the nighttime No. "Nighttime" is not a tangible thing. It is, well, a time of day when there is no sun. Light can't shine on nighttime itself, it can only shine on the absence of light that occurs during nighttime.

“Thanks,” I said with an irremovable smile on my face. Irremovable means "not able to be removed." Literally. Consider a better word.

Good luck!

Thanks for the critique! I have only 2 notes for you. I cannot describe a scouting vehicle when there is pitch blackness. I can mention the hum, maybe the seat. But i can't really tell you what it looks like...well because...it's not really visible...unless it's the one in a burnt pile of metal, but that's something different all together. By heart beating in his head, i wanted to mean that he could hear it in his head, the thumping of his heart ringing in his ears. And the blast compared to a blast....i was thinkthing compare the explosion to a blast of thunder in my head...and typed the wrong thing.

I have been trying to get the voice of fear down, and this is helping me alot!
And i guess i shoudl realize people don't talk in the same apparently superfluous fashion as i do.
But i must ask, did i at least get some sense of fear across? That's my main goal. Was it sensible at least?

"I cannot describe a scouting vehicle when there is pitch blackness"

Sure, you can! Don't limit yourself to descriptions of only things your characters can see. Remember that humans have five senses, and readers are interested in hearing about all of them. Describe what it sounds like. Describe the feel of its seats, or the texture of the dashboard, or the smell of its interior. Scent is the strongest sense tied to human memory and emotion. Use more than just visual descriptions, and readers will get a rich and satisfying mental picture.

Besides, your character can't see the vehicle presently, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what it looks like, right? He must have seen it in the light at least once in his life, no? You said there were seats on the side, can he see them? or does he remember them?

I gathered what you meant, and yes, I know you are going for fear. It's good to create tension first. Give the readers a sense of context. Is this a particularly horrifying battle for your hero? You said he had been in three before, so why should the readers believe that this one is potentially more terrifying than any other? Also, remember that the best way to create fear is to slowly build the tension, and then show us something that is scary. There was hardly any buildup, and then the bullets started flying, and it felt more action based than horror. Which are you going for?

As for the language; a lot of people do make that mistake. Try to discipline yourself to eliminate clutter words and phrases like "Truthfully," "As a matter of fact," "At that moment," "Suddenly," etc. and I think you'll be surprised by how much better it makes your writing.

It's not particularly important actually. It introduces this duper steal world. I guess I'll just have ti work hard at trying to remember the five senses and not limitysekf to the basic two, touch and sight. But I right in thinking tat I shouldn't probably describe all the senses every time? Just te ones that should be mentioned in te certain situation in these action/horror scenes?

Right. You don't need to overload with the description. The point is, you should pick something very distinctive, a detail that will be impossible for the reader to read without forming a clear mental picture. Whether it's a sound, a sight, a smell, a taste or the way something feels, or any mixture of those. Don't go on a tangent or anything. It's about finding the best details. Quality over quantity.

Thanks. I'll be posting up my next section soon.

You are not a bad writer. I can see an eagerness in your writing, which time and experience will help polish. Some quick questions to think about:

Even if these men are exorcists, it is hardly concievable that their lives would consist solely of riding off into the darkness to kill demons. Why are they riding out to kill demons again? Yes, to reclaim the world for human-kind, buy why that particular battle at that moment? Do they not have families? Who are these men? Are they retaliating for some atrocity that the demons did upon mankind?

The demons fall quite easily. Like regular lions. If the men can put the demons down like wild lions on the african savannah, even if it is pitch dark, I find it hard to believe that the demons could overrun the earth. Man's greatest strength is his organization and his intellilgence, and he shows it in spades here. Certainly, there is a dark intelligence at the end, but that dark intelligence factors very little into the prologue. What is it? It's almost like a gimmick.

I seriously doubt men in a technologically advanced society, with big effin guns, and scouting terrain vehicles would not have night vision goggles. Continuity error!

I feel that with time, and experience, you will sort out most of these problems, and many more, yourself. Indeed, I feel that you have the potential to become a very good author. My main concern is your tendency to rush through the writing as if the words are a raging torrent all needing to spill out onto the keyboard at once. It's all right. Take your time. You have plenty of it, my friend.

It was supposed to be an introduction. My original first scene kinda just thrust the reader in, and mentioned the exorcist guild. That was a bit odd i thought, so i put this in there. The idea is that this is like our own world, and yes they have big effin guns and a lot of demons can be hunted down like lions. I should probably make it more clear the thing that they were doing. It actually does not factor much into the story, other than introducing the world.

I'll redo the prolgue with some more information-- make it more sensible you know.

thank you! (almost forgot that bit, haha.)

I am looking for a person to critique my previous post, but to keep this thing interesting, here's the rest of chapter 1.
Aimee DuLis
It was like a earthquake in my mind. No, it was worse. Like tremor after tremor after tremor. My brain felt like it’s been split open. I could only close my eyes, and listen Whitley go through all of it. Finally I heard, “Aimee?”
“Yes,” I said, opening my eyes.
“Are you okay, Aimee?” he asked leaning over a bit.
“No, no,” I shook my head, as if I were trying to wake up, “This sort of stuff is just…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.
“Strenuous?” he completed, looking at me with one eyebrow raised.
“Yea-Yes,” I responded.
“We do have some options,” he said, knowing exactly what he was suggesting.
That basically rid me of any feeling of shock or pain. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – no.”
“It’s not a bad Idea, Aimee. Raffaele would be a good choice. It’ll help him learn.”
“It will help him learn to be arrogant!” I retorted. “That’s all he’ll learn there. To abandon one half of himself and learn to be an ass!” I can’t even stand the idea of that stuck up fool. I can’t even maintain any sort of calm when talking about him!
“Raffaele is not an ‘ass’, Aimee,” he took a deep breath, looking down to the table, “He knows Armand better than you. He has an invested interest in Armand.” he sat back and crossed his arms, looking straight at me, “I would argue that it is greater than yours.”
“No one cares more for Armand than me,” I could feel that my voice was shaky, “And I know and care for the whole Armand, not just half of him.” I had some of my calm again. “He’s only going to learn to be like Raffaele if he’s with him. I couldn’t allow it.”
“Maybe he would follow the suit of his mother,” he shrugged in an almost mocking manner—very unlike him, “and I don’t think you would mind that, would you?”
“I wouldn’t even care if he was with his father. But Raffaele is not like Giulia. He’s horrible, Colonel.”
He knew he was getting nowhere, “Fine,” he conceded. He looked like he was looking off to a corner of the room. Though this was one of his states of contemplation, “Then what do you suggest?”
I really hadn’t thought about it. I looked around the table, as if that had the answer on it. I could only just stay silent.
“There are more than just Raffaele. Jibril, Mikhail, Alexei, Renoir, Petronius, Giovanna—”
“No,” I cut in, slamming my hand against the table and getting up from my seat, “I’m not sending him off with any of them.” There are few time when I do this. But I can’t just let them take Armand away to go with all those idiots! It would end in absolute disaster.
“Aimee,” Whitley sighed, resting his head down, “You can’t just shower me with no’s. I need a solution. Armand needs a solution.”
I looked at what I was doing. I was getting angry at Whitley of all people! Whitley! He was like my comforting grandpa, and now I’m berating him for putting up a solution. I sat myself right back down, arms crossed, and a bit ashamed in myself.
“I can’t let him just go into one of the schools or colleges. The second he awakes, we’re in deep trouble.”
The Academy. That’s it! The Academy! “We can send him to the Academy!” I burst out.
He looked at me with a surprised smirk. “Calm yourself, Aimee. I don’t know if the Academy would accept him. We know what will happen once they detect his presence.”
“I still have a bit of skill left in me, Whitley,” I grinned, “It’ll take a miracle for them to detect him.”
“I have enough good friends in the Academy to get him in even this late in the game,” the Colonel was talking with himself, trying to think it all through. “Your former position here will definitely help,” he looked to me with a twinkle in his eye.
I couldn’t help but smile at this progress too.
“But it’s not our solution,” he cut into the happy moment. “We still can’t tell him. It’ll buy us time. Put him in the safest place we can have him in.
I know we can’t tell him. If we tell him, he won’t believe us. And when he finally awakes, he’s going to be so amazingly confused. It’s a lose-lose situation. I just looked at my lap, baffled, with that feeling of emptiness at the bottom of your heart—I knew there’s going to be trouble that’s coming and it was eating away at mr.
“Aimee,” Whitley said with a reassuring tone which he so often used, “I’ll take care of it. You know Armand is like a son to me, I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly.” I didn’t even want to look right now, but I knew he was giving him smile, I could just feel it.
“So I have to tell Armand about this tonight, don’t I?” I finally looked up at him, begging with my eyes for him to tell me otherwise.
“I’m afraid you will have to Aimee,” he said worriedly, “Better now than later.”
I looked up to the sky, rather the ceiling with my eyes closed. “Oh God I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” I could feel tears hot in my eyes.
“Just go home an relax for now Aimee. You need it. I’ll take care of the calls and paperwork. But I need to clear up one more thing with you, Aimee.”
I looked back to him. He looked a bit hesitant, almost regretful. “What is it?”
“The Ecclesia had requested that a security squad is arranged to keep track of Armand.”
“W-wait!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, “Why do we need a security force!?” I thought they wanted to round him up like some sort of animal.
“It’s not to attack him,” he reassured, motioning downwards with his hands that I should cool down, “Demons will be on him. They’ll be attracted to his presence. And we need to be ready if one of them make it through our defenses.”
I sat there for a moment and collected myself. It made sense. “You need my permission?”
“Yes,” he breathed a sigh of relief—I guess he expected me to be a bit more riled up about this.
“Then you have it,” I smiled.
“Good,” I got up, ready to leave.
Just as I was about to thank him, he interrupted, “No need for ‘Thank You’s’ Mrs. Dulis. Let’s get to work. Tell Armand tonight and we’ll discuss the matter further tomorrow. I’ll make the proper calls.”
I got out of my seat, and gave him a big smile that I hoped conveyed my thanks enough. I walked out and went en route to my office. As I walked I thought a bit about this. It’s not ending here. There’s quite a job to be done now. But if there’s anything that 17 years has taught me, it’s to celebrate your victories while they’re still fresh and meaningful.
§§§
Armand DuLis
No feeling can ever compare to the one when you talk to that girl of your dreams. I would have thought that I would just freeze up and speak gibberish. But no matter how many times I thought I would mess up horribly, it actually turned out well. I talked to her for maybe a few minutes at best, and yet that was the only thing I could think of the whole day.
Even when I came home, and plopped myself onto the sofa, I could only think of her. It’s sappy, I get it. But it’s true. The only thing that kept coming into my mind was her radiant face. But whenever I think of her, it’s always attached with a bit sorrow. Because I know it won’t be happening. She’s going off to a different world. She barely knows me, even. She’s the pinnacle of success as far as anyone else is concerned—and me, well my laziness to further explain my own situation is reason enough. “Armand you lazy fuck,” I muttered to myself. “You hopeless fuck.”
“What?”
I was startled, and turned over and looked from the back of the sofa. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it was only Aimee.
“Oh, hey,” I greeted her.
“How’d your day go?” she asked as she was laying down her purse and keys.
I shrugged, “Nothing much. Just a bunch of finals review.”
“You’re already ready for the finals?” she asked me.
I just chuckled, “Of course I am.”
She just shook her head, “You have a superhuman mind, I swear to God.”
“It’s a beautiful thing isn’t it?” I smiled.
“It is,” she just sighed, sitting herself down next to me.
We both lied down and reclined on the sofa. It’s one of those moments where we’re both there looking up at the ceiling. Aimee may not a biological mother, but I’d like to think we have enough of a connection to know how the other’s feeling. And I was pretty sure as to what was going on right now. She hadn’t made eye contact at all with me yet, just putting away her purse and things, and sitting on the sofa, right next to me – yet without even turning the corner of her eyes towards me.
“You got news for me, huh?”
I could already picture her closing her eyes with a tinge of guilt, “Yep.”
“Well,” I sat myself back up, “throw it at me.”
She sat herself back up as well, “It’s hard to explain Armand.” She looked pretty stressed. Like she was holding back the words she was about to say. It looked like the words were suffocating her.
“It can’t be that bad, Aimee, just let it out.”
It took her a moment. She was gathering the strength to say those words. “Armand, we’ve discussed all this stuff about going to a university or college.”
“I know,” I said, “I don’t know what I’m picking yet, though, so if that’s what you wanna know—I’m sorry but—”
“That’s not it, Armand,” she interrupted, “I won’t be able to let you go to any of those places for now.”
“What?” I was surprised. Did she want me to just hang around her like some bum? “What do you mean? Of course I have to go somewhere for higher education because,” I tried to give some finite reason but the only real thing that came out my mouth was a very stupid sounding, “well because. You know.”
“You will be going somewhere for a higher education, Armand.”
“You just said—”
“I said you can’t go to any of those colleges that you applied to Armand, I can’t let you,” she said again.
“What do you mean you can’t let me?” I was almost about to jump out of my sofa, “Are you sending me somewhere?” Was she really going to decide my path for me?
“Yes, Armand, I am.”
There was a sudden silence in the room—when I can’t even hear our breathing. “Where am I going,” I finally asked her.
“You’re going to the Exorcist Guild Academy,” she said it like a giant load had been lifted from her.
“The Guild Academy!?” I felt that weight drop onto me. I could only imagine how this shit happened. “How did you even decide on this? You never even asked me!”
“I know, the decision has been a joint one, between me and the members of the Exorcist Guild. We found it to be in our best interests to have you come into the Academy,” she got up. She had a deeper, more familiar calm with her, like she knew what was going on again.
“You guys are deciding my fate!?” I said pointing to myself. I jumped off the sofa, and walked around in front of it, “How the fuck does that make sense!?” I looked at her.
She was silent for a moment, “Listen Armand, this is a great opportunity, you had only applied to some small-name schools — the Guild Academy is as big as it gets,” she argued.
“I just wanna know why the hell this happened, and why I didn’t know about it!” I couldn’t contain myself, “I mean you would think I get a choice as to what I’m gonna do here. You think I actually wanna go into the Academy, and go kill myself in battle?”
“It won’t kill you, Armand. You know that it’s a complete mis-”
“Fuck that! What else is the Academy training people for. Picking daisies!?”
She tried to ignore that and continue explaining, “I came this morning, and that was the proposition put before me. I accepted on your behalf, Armand. I thought you would appreciate it.”
“Appreciate it!? How am I even going to be able to survive that place?” I don’t appreciate it, I don’t wanna do this. I just wanna go to a regular school and live a regular life. I don’t want this Guild crap!
“You have me, Armand. You have Colonel Whitley and so many other guys in the Guild who can help you. There’s a great support system for you. If anyone can make it through the Academy, it’s you.”
“Is the Colonel going to take a bullet for me? Huh?” I retorted.
“Armand, st-”
“You know what pisses me off the most about this,” I started to talk back and forth, “You think that some council can decide my fate! And that I’ll go along with it!”
“Armand it’s not that simple!” she protested.
“What if I don’t want to go there, huh? What if I actually wanna be normal. Not go get myself killed like my parents!?”
“Shut up!” she said. She wasn’t loud, not even close. But she was commanding, she had a blaze in her eyes. She obviously wasn’t happy. Well I didn’t expect her to be just dandy.
“Then tell me,” I asked trying not to yell, “Why?”
“Your parents didn’t go happily to their deaths, Armand,” I already started to feel like crap for what I just said, “They were killed in action. They died fighting for this Guild, and for you.”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes with my hand. Fuck. “Why then. At least tell me why they want me of all people.”
“Sit down,” she told me.
“Ok,” I looked to her, “Tell me.”
“Your parents were high up there, you know that. The Guild has given you an automatic acceptance to the Academy.”
“So they think I’ll be like my parents or something?” I laughed.
“I-it” she seemed to be collecting her thoughts or something. “They give you this chance as an token of thanks to your parents. But it serves a dual purpose.”
“So what is it?”
“A seat in the Ecclesia is usually given to the executive of each Order or Guild. Your parents were the glaring exception. And some felt that it was a sign of favor for the Exorcist Guild. They already were angered by the fact that our Invoker gets an automatic seat because the first one founded the Ecclesia.”
“So what does that have to with this?”
“Not only the demons, but some of the other cities had always wanted to attack you parents. Some wanted to kill them. Unfortunately, the demons got to them first,” that last phrase made her gulp down her words a bit with melancholy. “But some other cities still hold secret reservations that you are still a threat.”
“Me?” I half-chuckled, pointing to myself, “I couldn’t do the things that they did for my life!”
“It doesn’t stop their suspicion. Whitley already has set up a security force to keep you safe—from the demons, and other orders.”
“And why do I have to go to the Academy?” I kept questioning.
“To be able to defend yourself, Armand. I will do whatever I can. The guild will do whatever it can. But we need to make sure that you will still be able to defend yourself.”
I was a target. I never thought this sort of stuff would ever happen to me. And I guess I didn’t know how to react to it. I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t worried. I looked down. I felt nothing. Numbness. That’s what I felt. That’s all I felt.
“I can’t tell you this any other way, Armand,” She shrugged, with a sense of defeat, “We want you to go to the Academy so you can be safe, and learn how to keep yourself that way.”
“This is lovely, just lovely. I’m a target for demons and for exorcist.”
She began with a tender voice, “This is something big. I had to tell you today. But trust me when I say you’ll be fine. You may think you’re not too much like your parents. But trust me when I say that you are. I’ve known you since you were a child and I know you’re capable of just as much as them. If not more.” She put her arm on my shoulder, “Trust me Armand. I’ve been with you for this long. And I know this is going to be good for you.”
She took her hand away and sighed, “This is a lot to take in. Just relax and think about it.”
“I don’t really have a choice do I?” I didn’t like this idea that I can’t control my fate. First they throw something like this at my face so quickly, and I don’t even have the choice.
“You don’t need a choice right now. Just think about it like I said Armand. You’ll want to go soon enough.” Aimee got up, “I’m gonna take a shower and probably relax a bit. You should do the same.”
“Alright,” I said.
She gave me one more of those motherly, worried looks with her lower lip pursed up and her eyebrows curving upwards. I took a breath and put my feet up on the sofa. I closed my eyes and let it all sink in. Hey, look on the bright side, I would be seeing Adelaide for a few more years. Maybe I can finally make that move that would never happen.
§§§

any critiques are greatly appreciated. I think i'll put them in one scene at a time so it won't be so hard to read. If the thread just stagnates, well i guess i'll just remove all this stuff.

The original post was interesting but I think a bit hurried in parts. Not too keen on the switching viewpoint from I to We. But it works.

I felt the cold air like a blade running menacingly along my skin. - Good description but I would get rid of the "I felt..." bit at the beginning. Instead say "The cold air felt like a blade...." Try not to use "I felt...." too much, just say what is going on.

It's intriguing, but not enough description about who these people are, and what these demons are.