Hold On To That Feeling: Short Story - Writers Forum

Bobber · 05-25-2007, 05:32 PM

Crits etc.?

Quote:

Hold On To That Feeling

The smoke is fogging up the bar, creating a thick layer above the counter. Breaking its way through people’s mouths and into their lungs, in a month they’ll have cancer. Not that I have anything to worry about. Someone bumps into me from the back.
“Sorry” he mumbles.
But I don’t answer. Why would I? Would he hear me anyway? I tap my fingers onto the counter and the bartender is there before I can even look up. I tell him I need something strong. Very strong.
In bars no one questions my pale skin. No one questions my dead, cold eyes. No one questions me. Bartenders are up for a chat as long as you tip them well. Or, they’re up for a listen. They don’t do much of the talking. Bars are filled with people with no one to talk to, or someone who doesn’t want to talk to anyone but don’t want to talk to themselves. The lonely types.
The bartender mixes me up something brown looking, almost black. I chug down the glass, yet I do not taste it. The bartender frowns at my expressionless face as I put down the glass. It was strong, I can smell it. But I can not taste it.

“Hey handsome” a soft voice says from behind. As I turn around I look at her legs, perfectly shaped and smooth. She’s wearing such a bright red dress that everything else around her seems colourless.
The jukebox in the corner. The couple making out at one of the tables, all of it. Black and white.
She sits down besides me and crosses her legs slowly. I order another strong one, and lean back to get a good look in. Great waist and nothing wrong with her chest. She’s curvy in all the right places. And here neck, it’s perfect. Long and smooth, without being too thin. The veins I see clearly, pulsating, bright as day. As if I remember day. I swallow the lump in my throat and drink my strong one. “You see a lot of new faces in a bar like this. Many strangers come in here”
Yeah, I say, and it would be best for yourself if you remained a stranger. Her eyes become bright and she raises her eyebrows. She stutters an “Excuse me?”
You heard me, take a hike.
“But..”
God damn it, piss off! I crush the glass with my hand and I watch the blood spill from my palm as I open it. She’s no longer colour. There’s no longer colour anywhere. She gives me a look that could break any mans heart, even my cold one. Those big colourless eyes, watering up. She gets up and stumbles away and sits down at a table near the backdoor.
Could I get a new glass?

Sitting in the backroom, she sulks. She sits with her friends, they’re giving me the mean look and she’s just looking at the wall. But what do I care? I’m dead, I feel nothing. I’m incapable of feeling any human feelings. I’ll keep trying to convince myself that.
She gets up from her seat and tells her friends that she’ll be going now. Have a good night. Kisses them on the cheek. My neck closes up when I see her neck. Snap out of it, order another strong one. No, no more drinks. Only one drink left and it won’t be from a glass. I get up, but quickly sit back down again.
Keep those god damn drinks coming!
She leaves through the backdoor, and I fight the urge to taste her. But as the door closes, two guys whisper something that would be impossible for anyone but me to hear. They say that the girl is hot, and they haven’t gotten some in a while. They get up and both go towards the door, looking around to see if any eyes trail them as they exit.
They didn’t notice the eyes of a dead man following them all the way. I spin around on my barstool, facing the crowd now. But what do I care if some girl gets raped in some alley?
Some slut that tried talking a strange, pale, lonely man up in a bar. Screw her, she’ll probably enjoy it.
I leave the drink on the counter and head towards the exit. The eyes of her friends follow me. Women are scarier than the undead.
Outside in the alley, the men are already getting started. Throwing the poor girl around like little kids throw around toys, bickering over who gets to play with it first. I slowly approach from behind them, with a trashcan lid in my hand. The first one gets the lid so hard his nose breaks, and the blood squirts all over the place. It’s like heaven. The second guy, with his pants around his ankles tries to run away. I frisbee the lid onto his knee and he crumbles like a piece of paper. I feel no joy in watching him writhe in pain, not as much as I initially thought I would. I pick up the trashcan and throw it on his head.
“You..” her eyes are filled with tears as she pulls up her knickers and slowly gets up from the ground.
And I turn away from her.
“You saved me..”
She needs to get away from me
“Oh god, those guys were gonna’ rape me” and she starts crying.
I fight it. I fight to not let my true self appear.
“What about you.. are you.. are you alright?” and her hand touches my shoulder.
I’m sorry.
I press her against the wall and sink my teeth into her perfect neck. Her blood is even better than I thought. It runs through my veins, gives me new strength. Again I see colour, again I see everything as I should. She fights back, but I hold her and push myself up against her. I bite harder, and make sure not to waste a drop of blood from that perfect body of hers.
She moans, and I bite even harder. My eyes are closed as I suck her dry of everything she ever was, everything she is, and everything she’ll never be. And then my eyes are open.
I slowly back off and notice her eyes. She’s dead. Her eyes, that before were so beautiful, are now so empty. I robbed her off her beauty. I robbed her off her dignity. I let go of her wrist and back away from the body.
I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.
I kneel before her, and a single tear runs down my cheek.
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.
I told you to get away.

I told you.

onyxprop · 05-26-2007, 10:54 AM

With the way the man thinks and speaks, it sounds like to me that the material is some sort of western-type vampire story. Put more background, being immediately submerged into this world, one doesn't know what to think.

Loulou · 05-27-2007, 06:10 AM

Hey Bobber,

I really enjoyed this. It was sexy and fast paced. I liked the MC being torn between his human emotions and his vampire coldness, the torment of needing the blood and trying to resist. Liked that it was present tense and how you maintained this well throughout.

Women are scarier than the undead.

Wonderful line.

Sitting in the backroom, she sulks. She sits with her friends, they’re giving me the mean look and she’s just looking at the wall. But what do I care? I’m dead, I feel nothing. I’m incapable of feeling any human feelings. I’ll keep trying to convince myself that.

You might want to cut out 'I'll keep trying to convince myself that.' It's clear that he's trying to do that, you don't need to tell me.

The smoke is fogging up the bar, creating a thick layer above the counter. Breaking its way through people’s mouths and into their lungs, in a month they’ll have cancer. Not that I have anything to worry about. Someone bumps into me from the back.

Nice opening, straight into the scene. The sentence starting with 'Breaking' is a fragment, perhaps would read better as 'It crawls into mouths and lungs, the beginning of cancer.' Maybe start 'Someone bumps me...' as a new paragraph?

These are just thoughts, it's your piece. I liked it a lot though.

Bobber · 06-03-2007, 08:47 AM

sorry about bumping this