Thread: Premonition (Tentative Title) (Minor Language)

Premonition – Chapter One
Matt jerked his head upright, drenched in a cold sweat and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was foreign to. An odd sensation that made him want to shove his head into his pillow and muffle a scream and hide under his blanket until the feeling evaporated from his thin, toned body. But he knew better than that, because overreacting would do no good. Initially, Matt thought this odd sensation was fear, but it was more severe than that. It was like he could slice his neck cleanly off his head, and the pain would be nothing compared to this insanity inducing feeling that was welled up in his stomach. He felt nauseous and dizzy, and felt like he could vomit. He clenched his fists and panted, somehow exhausted from this thought. He slowly placed his feet on the ground, tested his strength, and limped to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, but there were no noticeable differences to his features or his body.
More curious than afraid, Matt walked around in the kitchen a little while. He tested his strength by twisting the heavy metal doorknob into a spiral. He would face his father’s anger later. At least his strength was still in check. Slowly, Matt made his way back into his small bedroom, and flopped down on his bed nestled into the largest corner of the room. The nauseous feeling returned to him, and before he could make his way to the bathroom, he gagged and vomited on the floor. The door to his room swung open, and his father carefully stepped in, rubbing the weariness from his eyes. “What’s happening?” He yawned, not bothering to look at Matt, his mouth open wide, gulping down the fresh air that softly rolled through the open window. Matt gagged again, and released the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He kneeled down and panted, spitting out the horrible flavor of the vomit.
His father rushed to his aid. Feeling Matt’s head, he said, “You must have a fever, buddy. Better get you some medicine and then you can go to bed. No school tomorrow, you hear me?” Matt nodded, gulping down the thick spit that formed in his throat. He panted, sweat dripping from his nose into a small puddle on the floor. What could possibly be happening to me? He thought, painfully swallowing his worries and struggling to maintain his balance. He slowly progressed back to his bed, wincing with each step. His father yelped at the state of the doorknob, but Matt didn’t care. He was preoccupied with the pain that boiled inside him. He was ready to vomit again, but held back. He pulled himself up to his bed, and rolled onto his back, panting. He couldn’t breathe well, and mucus clogged his throat and nose. He coughed violently, his throat searing with bitter pain.
Matt’s father walked in, bearing medicine and a glass of water. “Don’t worry, buddy, I don’t blame you for the doorknob,” he said, “You’re probably delirious from the fever.” All Matt could do was nod as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He forced them down again, barely keeping his eyelids open. He blankly stared at his father who spoon fed him the red syrup, then shoved a glass of water to his mouth and made him gulp the entire thing down. “You feel better, okay? I’m tired and going back to bed. I think you can handle yourself, just don’t do anything stupid.” His father said wearily. But Matt couldn’t register what was going on any more. He fell into a deep trance, barely staying conscious, and softly stepped onto the squeaky floorboards of his bedroom. He walked slowly, but surely, across his room, and swung the door open. He padded down the narrow hallway until he met the door outside of his “family’s” apartment. Matt’s father wasn’t his parent by blood, but raised him as though he was.
Matt blindly stumbled around, putting on boots and a thick leather jacket sitting around nearby. He felt for the doorknob, but couldn’t find anything, so he simply pushed the door off its hinges and stepped outside into the bitter cold, but couldn’t feel anything in his unconscious state. He treaded through thin snow. He snapped awake from the feeling in his stomach coming back. He doubled over and vomited onto the powdery white snow, then fell back. He spit out the flavor, and noticed that blood had come from this throat. This was bad. He pulled off his boots and rubbed his feet. They felt like they were burning. A cloud loomed overhead, and he heard the distant boom of thunder. Slowly, Matt made his way to his feet. He felt light headed and his vision blurred. Everything turned a bluish color and the ground around him cracked, exposing excruciatingly bright beams of aqua blue light. Matt reached out in wonder, and his hand felt wonderful under the blue light. The ground cracked open into a wide, jagged circle, at least 30 feet in perimeter. Matt put his foot in and the burning feeling faded away. He felt a force pulling him towards the light, and let it softly lift him off of his feet and into the light. Matt floated there for a few moments, feeling wonderful, carefree, and oddly powerful. He felt the burning feeling in his feet come back, and the blue light began to fade. He slowly began to float downwards, until he was going at a complete dropping speed. The burning feeling in his feet was unbearable. He toppled downward into a blackness no light could penetrate. His boot fell off as he made contact with a hardened rock wall, and he saw his foot was glowing. In one last feeble attempt to get back up, he pushed himself off of the wall with his feet, one glowing, the other covered by a brown, leathery boot. But it was all in vein. He plummeted into the earthy darkness, not managing the strength for a scream.
Matt’s vision slowly faded into a thick black, and he couldn’t decide whether he was unconscious or still falling. His entire body began to burn now. A dim light shone to his right, but was extinguished as quickly as it ignited. He was awake, but in this thick, almost tangible darkness, he wanted to be asleep. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. How much longer will I fall? When will I die? WILL I die? He wondered, and felt a single drop of water softly touch his cheek. “Is someone there!?” He roared, but clamped his mouth shut immediately. The air tasted like mold in his cracked, dry mouth, and he felt nauseous again. A rustle came from the right. Then from the left. All of the sudden, a chorus of rustling sounds came from the rocky walls that enclosed the pit. He felt something touch his arms, and felt down to his legs. Whatever this creature was, it must have been fast. He had been falling for at least five minutes, and was dropping at an incredibly high speed.
He thrashed his arms around his body but the creature dodged his feeble swings and continued to survey his body. It spoke, and surprisingly, Matt could understand. “This is a good one. I think that he is one of them.” Matt heard snickers, cackles, and squeaking noises that erupted around him. The only distinguishable language any of them spoke was the one near him. “Boy, you may speak. Are you one of them?” Matt considered his options. He could tell them he was, and suffer whatever consequences came from being “one of them”, or could attempt some sort of blackmail. He chose the second one.
“Give me light, food, and stop me from falling, then I will tell you.” He rasped, trying to maintain a calm figure in front of these creatures.
“Boy, we already know what you are. We want to hear it from you. You can give yourself all those things if you would comply with our commands. We are the masters, not you.”
What the hell? They already know? I do have powers, but I don’t know if I’m ‘one of them’. Am I? He considered, and then decided his reply.
“… I am one of them.” He spoke the words deliberately slowly as though some of the monsters couldn't comprehend his language. One cackled, and a beam of light pierced the darkness. The creatures flapped bat-like wings, creating whirlwinds of massive size, and Matt was slowly suspended, floating in the dim light. He looked down. He was about 9 feet from a blood red floor of stone, coated in blood and scraps of human flesh.
“Those are what we call the… Unfortunate Ones.” One of the beasts said, almost giggling. Matt was slowly suspended to the ground and stood shakily on his feet. He was scared, but stood his ground. One of the creatures slowly glided to eye level with him. It was a furry little beast, probably about 3 feet in diameter, with scraggly gray hairs lining his circular body. A stubby head protruded from the front of the thing, with beady, black eyes, about the size of marbles. He had a tiny nose, like a dog’s, that sniffed wildly around him. Bat-like, spiny wings grew out of his sides, and he slowly flapped them up and down, keeping himself in the air. He wildly darted his eyes around Matt’s body, then glided away, sticking a foot long black tail upward. The rest of the creatures followed this procedure, and either letting their tails hang or pointing them up. Matt counted 28 tails up and 9 tails down, making there a total of 37 bats in the blood red chamber of death.
“You have been accepted by the majority of us. You do indeed have powers, but they do not come from kharm like the rest of us.”
“Kharm?” Matt said, disregarding the fact that the bat made a face when he questioned it.
“Kharm. Power. Kharm is gained from years of training, and most humans do not possess it, though few militia do.”
Because I live in a small town, there are very few militia around. Matt thought. They were considered 'What kept the world together' or something like that, though I can’t remember exactly why… He shoved away questions about kharm from his mind.
“But my powers. I have always been faster, stronger, and more intelligent than other students at my school, and I never understood why.” He stomped his foot, breaking the ground. A chunk of stone burst upward, and Matt gripped it out of the air, smashing it with his bare hand. “See? I don’t know why. I have to-“
“Hide them? I know. There are only a few people like you, but you are special. Most born with your powers, what most creatures other than humans call CP, which is short for Celestial Power, only live a few days to a month, never able to exert the power because they are too young. But you are one of the only children in millenniums who have lived long enough to be able to use the power… And you also have kharmic potential. You could adapt to kharm and become incredibly powerful… If you are up to the task."
End of Chapter 1. I hope you guys liked it! This is the first story I have written in quite a while, and I'm a little rusty. I am pretty young, 14, so please don't cut down on me too much, however, I would really appreciate some critique. I feel like I didn't go deep enough into the protaganist's (Matt's) mind, and that too much is unexplained, even in the first chapter.

Nice beginning. Had a few things:

As far as higher order stuff goes I would have done a little more world building compared to the descriptions of his actions. If I can get a better picture of his room/home etc. it would make it a bit more interesting.

Secondly, The fathers short appearance in the story seemed like a missed opportunity to me. I can't connect with the main character yet because I don't know him.

The imps language would be fine, but I would change it up to make their dialogue less human. Also, A more detailed interaction with his father would flesh him out in the readers mind more.

Lastly, It would be nice to have a better understanding of the reasons for his sickenss. Has he had it for a long time? Is it caused by the imp creatures? Is it caused by his kharmic ability or his powers?

Some minor details:

Matt jerked his head upright, drenched in a cold sweat and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was foreign to. - I had to read on after the first sentence to get the image into my mind. Could be fixed by saying jerked his head off his pillow or something to that effect.

"He would face his father’s anger later" this intro to the character left me thinking of a tyrant. Then I came to see him as a nice guy. Does this sentence need to be there? Its obiously an irrational fear and takes away from the story IMHO. If you want to keep it I would tone down the impression it gives of his father. Maybe "He would have to explain that to his father later."

"humans do not possess it, though few militia do" - These two clauses don't work. Though implies contrast. No humans and few militia is not a strong contrast and makes the construction confusing. You could say "no humans and few militia posses it" or "humans do not posses it. Not even many militia do."


Keep it up. I'm curious to see where we are going.