crunch

Hi people! Wow, I haven't been here in a few months...Well, that's because I haven't been writing. However, I am back to writing now and I think I will be for a while. I may actually finish the story I'm working on now! Anyway, I won't be posting my whole story on Writing Forums but I would like some feedback on the first couple chapters (but that's all I've finished so far anyway). So yeah, here is chapter one of my newest story.


ROGUE ANGELS

The cracking sound of the gunshot resonated through the otherwise silent restaurant. It was one of those fancy places with a long French name that no on can pronounce. A popular place for wedding rehearsals. Another earsplitting bang followed the first. The next few seconds were occupied by similar sounds, along with some screaming and thumps. The restaurant had long ago been emptied, the crowd of wealthy fancy food eaters running from the eerie feeling of imminent danger. Now the only people who were left were the cops and the lone man at the center of the restaurant.


The man in the middle of the fine eatery fired randomly into the quickly growing crowd of New York City cops. They encircled him but kept their distance. He held his outstretched arm ridged, gripping his shotgun. On a sudden impulse the man decided that it was time to leave. He glanced around the room and quickly noted that every exit was blocked by police men and women. With another, longer, look at the space he saw a window. It was about ten feet off the ground with a small sill. The man ran towards the window, not too fast, but got there in time anyway. He didn’t want to rouse suspicion, however, it was very important that he not get caught. Some would say that if he didn’t want to be caught, he shouldn’t have started a gunfight in the first place. However, that is just not the way this particular being’s mind worked.


The man leapt high into the air, leaving the astonished crowd to stare at him from below. With a sound that seemed like a hundred breaking hearts the glass of the window shattered, only to break into even smaller pieces when it hit the pavement below. There was a small crunch and a splash when the man’s black boots landed on what was left of the windowpane, which had been sitting in a small puddle. It had just stopped raining a few minutes before so the air still held that thick but clean feeling.


The man ran to the back of the building and darted down a scarcely lit alleyway. He could hear the hurried footsteps behind him so he let himself run faster than before. He always did enjoy the chase. However, he hadn’t been expecting to come to a dead end. He could jump high but not that high. He could attempt to climb the brick wall. In fact, he could make it easily to the top. Unfortunately, he hadn’t allowed himself to really outrun the cops. Before he got up the wall they would find him and shoot him down. That wouldn’t be a fun journey to the end. No, better to just let them catch up and see what happens. However, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

As soon as the first person came into view, a petite woman with long brown hair, the man carelessly aimed and shot his gun. The woman grabbed her shoulder and fell to the ground. Almost immediately the other cops came into the man’s line of vision. He took another shot into the oncoming crowd and with a heavy heart realized he was out of bullets. He sighed and dropped the gun to the ground, which resulted in a clattering sound that could barely be heard over the new sound of sirens. A rough looking man with short blonde hair began walking toward the criminal, holding his gun tightly with one hand, the other hand carrying cuffs. The young man who had started the fight rolled his eyes when the policeman began reciting his rights. Mr. Cop cuffed the man and led him by the shoulder to the cruiser.

The man was shoved roughly into the backseat and, to his great displeasure, Mr. Cop climbed in with him. He looked out the window to watch the passing view. After all, you could have all the time in the world and still not see everything.


It didn’t take long to reach the small police station of the area. When the car stopped right outside it the man was pushed roughly to the curb, followed by Mr. Cop. Although, he had the privilege of not being shoved. He had to go through a scanner and give up anything that could be used as a weapon. For some reason that included socks. Supposedly they could be used as “simple strangling devices”. Once he was settled into a small cell with two other people Mr. Cop told him to make himself comfortable, and that he’d be there for a while.


The man sighed and slid down the wall, putting his arms on his knees and his head on his arms. The cold concrete floor made the already chilly cell even worse. He looked across the cell to where the only cot was pushed against the wall. There was a man sitting on it. He was slumped over and it seemed as if all the life had been sucked out of him. The deep wrinkles on his face hid his cobalt eyes and his white hair was thin and wispy. He looked to be in his seventies at least. The man against the wall couldn’t think of anything that this old man could have done to get himself in jail.


There was one other person in the cell too. He was wearing jeans and a black long sleeved shirt. His hair was dark brown and combed over to one side so that one of his gray eyes was hidden. He was lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The man thought he looked like one of those-what was the word? -emo kids; one of those new emotional punks. He seemed pretty young, maybe seventeen.


The boy decided to try to talk to this new guy. He had been stuck in this cell with some old guy who never talked for two days. He thought that maybe this would take some of the boredom away. He walked toward the man and stuck out his hand. “Jimmi,” he said pleasantly. He wanted to be polite, just in case this person was in there for a good reason.


“Blaire,” the man replied with a bored tone. He reached for the boy’s hand and shook it without much strength. Jimmi joined him on the floor, sitting with his knees pulled up tight to his chest.


“How did you get in here?” he asked, trying not to sound too cheery. He wasn’t an overly happy person in general, but he hadn’t talked to anyone in a couple days so he was just glad to have a companion. Or at least someone to talk to until they told him to go away.


“Started a gunfight and ran from the police,” the man said with the same tone, as if he’d said the same thing many times in the past. For a minute Jimmi looked a little shocked. He hadn’t quite expected anything like that.


“Wow. All I did was trespass in an old factory. The one down the road a little ways,” he said pointing in a random direction that didn’t mean anything since there weren’t any windows.

“You mean the one with signs all over it that say ‘DANGER! High Voltage Electricity’?”


“That’s the one,” Jimmi replied proudly. Blaire just rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling as if to say, Why me. He glanced at the boy and saw him looking at him as well. He was taking in his appearance. Blaire knew what the boy must have been seeing. A young man with straggly black hair (about shoulder length), icy blue eyes, a round-ish pale face, all black apparel, and elegant hands. He’d seen the image himself many times and had heard it described. People know these things after having a long time to look at it. Sometimes it seemed to Blaire that he had too long, though he wouldn’t really have it any other way.


Blaire looked away from his cellmate and said quietly (more to himself than anyone else), “I have to get out of here. Do you have a watch?” he asked, turning to Jimmi.


“Nah, they took my watch. Said I could get the sunlight to hit it and burn through the bars.” Blaire sighed and looked toward the office part of the small station. He could see the little clock at the bottom of Mr. Cop’s computer. It was three o’clock in the morning.


Blaire groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. It didn’t seem to faze him however, and he stood up and grabbed the bars. “Hey! Mr. Cop! Don’t I get a phone call?” he asked rather rudely. The cop sighed and stood up, walking over to the cell with a key ring. He opened the door of bars and led Blaire to a wall on the opposite side of the station where a black phone was mounted on the wall.


“One call,” the cop said with a firm expression.


Blaire raised his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said, really meaning, No kidding. He moved his hand toward the phone and glanced at the cop. “Were you just going to stand there?” he asked. Mr. Cop nodded, his expression staying the same. “Right,” Blaire said tiredly and picked up the phone. He dialed a number quickly and waited for someone to reply.


“Hello?” a voice said from the other line.


“Yeah, hi. I need a car,” Blaire answered, more politely than the policeman had ever heard him talk. The voice asked about where he would be picked up and what he would be paying with. He gave the address of the police station (it was on a letter that was sitting on Mr. Cop’s desk) and said that he’d be paying with cash. He noticed that the cop was laughing at him but he just ignored him and made the final arrangements with the person on the other end. He turned to the cops and glared at him because he was still laughing. “Yes?”


“How exactly are you planning on getting out of here?” the cop asked, his face turning a deep shade of red from not getting enough air. Blaire took a step toward the cop. If anyone had walked in at that moment it would have appeared to them that the prisoner was going to attack the policeman. His eyes were narrowed slightly and he seemed to be taking in every detail of the other man’s appearance. After about a minute of his scrutinizing stare, the cop was starting to look a little scared. However, Blaire decided against whatever it was he had been deciding whether or not to do. Apparently it wasn’t worth his time.


“Well, of course, you will let me go,” Blaire stated confidently.

“I don’t think so,” Mr. Cop replied. “It’s time for you to get back to your cell. You’ll be transferred to the state jail tomorrow, and after that maybe even federal prison. You wouldn’t want to pass that up.” Blaire didn’t argue, but rather waited for the cop to lead him back to the cell. However, this man had been a policeman for twenty years and wasn’t about to let a man he didn’t trust see his back. Again, Blaire sighed exasperatedly and trudged toward the cell, Mr. Cop behind him.

He stopped suddenly and turned to face his captor. “Now,” he paused, “Mr. Cop.” The cop got a little angry at this. “The time I spent here in this…little prison was very precious to me. I want you to know that.” He turned back around and proceeded on slowly.


“What are you talking about?” the cop asked, annoyed that he was playing into his prisoner’s little game.


Blaire turned back on his heel and the cop noted disgustedly that he was smirking. “I was wondering when you’d ask. It took a very long time. But then, I suppose you wouldn’t be able to put the words together easily with that small brain of yours.” He paused for a moment to enjoy the look of pure rage on the cop’s face before continuing. “However, some things, as you will soon see, take very little time at all.” He stopped to savor the now confused look on Mr. Cop’s face before he turned and ran to the door. This time, however, he allowed himself to use his full ability. It seemed to those in the small little jail that he had simply disappeared.

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Vampires are way cooler than werewolves. All you wolf lovers need to get over it.

Kira the wanderer

Its hard to read. Can you double space the paragraphs and large passages? It hurts my eyes on the computer screen. But I like how you opened it. ^_^

crunch

Oh thanks! I forgot that it doesn't put paragraphs in when you copy. I'll fix it.

__________________
Vampires are way cooler than werewolves. All you wolf lovers need to get over it.

VinrAlfakyn

I really liked the story, but I got confused when you switched from Blaire being taken to the police station to Jimmi seeing the old man and Blaire in the cell. Maybe you could space those apart more, to show that the point of view is changing? That's all I have. Great job!

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it's a long long road, it's a big big world
we are wise wise women, we are giggling girls
we both carry a smile to show when we're pleased
both carry a switchblade in our sleeves
- Ani DiFranco, from "If He Tries Anything"
also in "Somplace To Be Flying" by Charles de Lint

Kira the wanderer

I think that sentence was really messy. It didn't seem like the wedding rehersal thing was important and you could do without it. How about something like "It was one of the fancy places that had a long French name that nobody could pronounce, it was quite popular foor wedding rehearsals."


[quote]Another earsplitting bang followed the first. The next few seconds were occupied by similar sounds, along with some screaming and thumps. The restaurant had long ago been emptied, the crowd of wealthy fancy food eaters running from the eerie feeling of imminent danger.[quote]

I had a bit of trouble understanding that. It seemed as though the gunshots happened there that instant and then you go to say that it was long emptied creating a time issue. Make it one or the other.

Since this man becomes important later a little description would be nice. Perhaps how he dresses or a look on his face that can well defne his character.


I didn't really like this paragraph. It didn't make sense and seemed out of place. I think you should either reword it or or get rid of it entirely.




As I read the word "alleyway" I prayed you wouldn't do this. Its extremly overused. But whatever. Just pointing out how predictable. ALso the sentence needs to be restructured. How about "However, he hadn't been expecting to come to a dead end which he knew he could not jump."

Again, the flow is weird. make your two ideas into one.


I didn't have time to read the rest and I will later but I have work of my own to accomplish right now. I didn't like how you named the cop "Mr. Cop" as I skimmed through it. I think if that's his name then change it. If that's what your chaacter decided to call him either refer to him as Mr. Cop after you character calls him that or clearly state that your character dubbed him that title in his head while making his escape or whatever. Good wor, I'll check in later.

crunch

Thanks a lot for the critiqueing. I have no clue how to spell that. Anyway, everything you said made a lot of sense and yes, that's not the cop's real name but what the character called him. I wanted to hold off physical description for a while so it's farther down in the chapter but I'll put in a facial expression because that makes sense. I know the thing about the alley is extremely cliche but I can't think of what to put there instead. If you had some ideas of replacements I would really appreciate it. Thanks again!

__________________
Vampires are way cooler than werewolves. All you wolf lovers need to get over it.

Davie G. Porter

I really like the beginning, I felt that it grabbed my attention very quickly. I felt your description was great, however a couple of times I felt you used a few lazy words where you could have used a more interesting word. Although most of the time this was fine. There are a couple of spelling errors, however obviously that will be sorted with drafting so i wouldn't worry about that. Also I felt that the two criminals sounded a bit too clean and polite when speaking to each other. Perhaps you could try making them sound a bit rougher e.g. "What d'ya want" or something like that as it gives more depth to the character as we can hear them as well as picture them. Don't feel you have to do this as they are your characters and it is up to you how you wish to portray them. All in all I thought that the whole thing was very exciting from the first word to the last word and I would like to read more!

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...And then there was Porter!

crunch

Thanks so much! I made the characters' dialogue in a more polite way because they're not normal criminals. It'll all be clear in the second part, which I'll post soon. Thanks again to everyone who read it!

__________________
Vampires are way cooler than werewolves. All you wolf lovers need to get over it.

Davie G. Porter

Okay cool. Yeah I didn't think they seemed quite normal which made them seem interesting. When I write an evil character I try and make him sound very polite and well spoken as it makes them seem more menacing, however I felt with this chapter it seemed all a bit odd with "normal" criminals. But if we later find out that they are not "normal" that's cool so don't worry. Something I was also meant to say last night was that I like the way the narrator has included his opinions and things like that and it seems like it has been written so that even though this guy has been shooting and we know he is bad we are made to believe that he is the good guy in this. I don't know whether this was intentional or not but I thought it made quite a good twist as we were seeing it in their prospective.

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...And then there was Porter!

crunch

That's actually exactly how I meant it! Yes! I'm so excited now! Mr. Matt, my writing instuctor person, will like that someone said that! Thanks!

__________________
Vampires are way cooler than werewolves. All you wolf lovers need to get over it.

Kira the wanderer

Well I'm going to keep on reading your work. What really grabbed my attention was the title, otherwsie I don't really critique much. If its something I really like I will, so you've done well. I saw the second chapter up and running and I'll check it out for sure, probably 8th period since this one is about to end. Its only 3rd here so sorry if you don't get it as soon as you like. I understand the description delay, but that;s just phyasical right? Try mental description as well, the emotions can be more helpful than the actual physical part.

As for instead of the allyway, well, I wouldn't really think its right for me to tell you what to use instead. Definately something less cliches because I figured out what was going to happen the moment I read allyway and didn't like it. Dont let the readers loose interest and come up with something original. But that's your place to decide, it is your work after all.