Hell and Back (finally finished). - Writers Forum

semtecks · 06-22-2005, 05:25 PM

http://www.writingforums.com/viewtopic.php?t=19628

If anyone's still interested click on the link for the complete story

gohn67 · 06-23-2005, 04:18 AM

Hey Semtecks,
The story starts off kind of slow, but it picks up steam as you get into section 4 and 5.

I did these comments as I was reading
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Quote:

He tried to say more but his throat worked soundlessly

This is kind of strange to me. Made me stumble a bit.

Quote:

“No,” she said, as she led Dez down a corridor lined with ancient looking portraits on each side, “I’m Fate.”

The name fate, does it have some kind of meaning?
I think it does.

Quote:

She’s crazy, he thought, she wants to trap me behind a wall just like an Edgar Allen Poe character.

Maybe use quotes, since the tense changes were jarring.

Quote:

The man with the torch was old, very old, every wrinkle on his face (and there was a lot of them) stood out like long dry riverbeds on waterless planets.

Nice metaphor description here. I like it alot.

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He spotted Dez and changed his direction slightly

OUt of POv here.

Quote:

Amazing what abject fear can do to you.

Could instead of can?

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“The guardian, of course.” The old man turned sharply and Dez followed. “My fault, I’m afraid, I was studying the gate and I woke the thing up.”

Hmm. What's the guardian? The Devil? And the gate? Is it the entrance to Hell? I have no clue but I am intrigued.

Quote:

It looked as if an invisible dam had burst behind his eyes.

Don't like this metaphor, since I feel it is used alot.

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Carol had been dead for four months when Dez was called out to No 24 Red Avenue. He sat in the van for a while, looking up at the suburban monolith before him.

LIke this foreshadow here.

Quote:

Dez stared in disbelief for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Yes, I am…” He tried to say more but his throat worked soundlessly. The woman could have been Carol’s twin; she was about thirty years older but the resemblance was uncanny.

And here. Nice.

---
I wouldn't mind seeing the rest of this. You've built up a nice bit of mystery here so far. I want to figure what has happend. What happend to Carol? ANd why Dez is down here? Are they going to hell and back?
Well the last one is obviously yes.

journyman161 · 06-23-2005, 04:51 AM

This is intriguing, & although the sequence is close to Colin MacApps, Worlds of the Wall, it almost immediately takes a turn. (In the above, the guy coming through the wall meets an older version of himself who runs him around)

Some fixes I think are needed...

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking for. - leave off the 'for'

He wasn’t sure but he thought the passageway was moving downwards - sloping downward, trending down, passage isn't moving.

By spreading his arms outwards, Dez could just about touch the walls to either side of him with his fingertips. After a while however he had to stretch further to do this; and then the walls dropped away altogether. He supposed he was in a big room - Why? He's got a torch. He can see the passage widening.

He walked on for a while, noticing the way the floor was smooth - He walked on for a while along the smootly floored passage. or similar. Don't tell us he noticed, give us the observation by decribing what's there.

“That’s the guardian. He’s been a pain in my backside for…uh…fifteen—”

“Fifteen years!” Dez interrupted. “You’ve been down in this place for fifteen years?” - This passage would work better if he kinda trailed off & was silent for a bit. Then comes the 'Fifteen year...

“Yes,” M said impatiently this does have something to do with Carol. “Tell me about her. - “Yes,” M said impatiently. "This does have something to do with Carol. Tell me about her."

The blood had squirted everywhere, the walls, the ceiling the T.V.) “Tell me she’s not here, please tell me that. She was a good person, she doesn’t deserve to –” Finally the tears came, six months worth. It looked as if an invisible dam had burst behind his eyes.//
- from here on it's very confusing. The sudden jump to Carol being there, the bit about the old woman being Carol etc. Needs re-write to make it clearer.

//I have yet to disprove the being the Christians who drove me from my land worship exists. - You may want to rewrite this; there are far less complex ways of putting it.

Chris Miller · 06-23-2005, 09:12 AM

Hi semtecks:

Your writing has become cleaner and more precise to my ear. I liked the opening. It drew me in without making me wonder what was going on. As it went on though, it began to feel disjointed and overburdened with symbols, almost incidental. So I guess gohn and I have a different take on it. Which just goes to show, you can't please everyone all the time.

But I would like to see the 2nd half. Actyually, endings are my favorite part and I was a little disappointed that you postponed it. I guess I don't see how you (or I) can say the first half works until the whole thing is done. To me a short story is a single entity that cannot be divided into pieces. It's like saying to me, "Here is half of a cat. How do you like it? I'll get the other half to you when I find it."

Quote:

Dez wiped his eyes. “But what about heaven."

...heaven?"

Quote:

“If Carol’s here then nothing will stop me from bring her home.”

bringing

jaben · 06-23-2005, 02:07 PM

Hi semtecks,

Overall, I liked the story so far. It kept me interested. I also like your choice of Dez as an electrician. Somehow it seems appropriate given the way the story is developing.

At times I thought Dez slipped out of character. I assume he's a pretty decent person so was suprised when he wanted to:

Quote:

He took his torch, left his toolbox, vowed to bash Fate’s crazy skull in if he ever saw her again, and walked into the darkness.

Would a nice guy really want to bash an older woman's skull in? Even if he was angry not sure he'd express it that way.

Sometimes the casualness of the writing tone distracted me:

Quote:

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking for. He shone his torch onto his watch but it had stopped—probably broke when he was bashing his fists against the wall. He’d left his phone in the van, which sucked, because he could really use it right about now.

There were some sections where I think you brought who Dez is into the story and made him more relevant:

Quote:

M’s display of power had done three things to him: scared him, convinced him, and impressed him. Dez was used to power, he understood power; he knew how it flowed through a circuit and brought a bulb to life. A man who conducted it through his own body without major pulmonary failure was very, very interesting.

I like how you connect his profession with his grasp of what is going on.

I do want to read the rest which is my ultimate guage on whether or not a story is worth my time. So congrats and keep writing.

- J[/quote]

semtecks · 06-23-2005, 03:45 PM

Thanks Gohn, Chris, Journeyman and Jaben.

Thanks for pointing out the foibles guys, grammar plot holes all that stuff, i never notice them myself.

I find this one kind of strange; i just got the image of a man walking into a house to fix a toolbox and ending up in some huge lost world. It's gone on longer than my usuall stories. But i'm determined to finish the bugger.

Sorry Jorneyman, don't know what worlds of the walls is. Sounds interesting though, i'll keep an eye out for it.

Hope you like the second half Chris. When a story ends up being this long i tend to submit each section as soon as i've written it.

I don't think Dez saying he's going to bash Fates head in is really out of charactor--although i kind of did when i wrote it--i think it reveals a part of his charactor that he doesnt often show.

semtecks · 06-23-2005, 03:50 PM

6

M took one of the jars of goo from the shelf and led Dez back to the main hall. On the way Dez asked M about fate.

“Fate, M said hesitantly, “is exactly what her name implies. She’s a being who’s been mentioned in many cultures. The Greeks saw her as a God, but….”

“What?” Dez said.

“Well—I hate to say this, I come from a superstitious age and still hold many of my beliefs—but I don’t think she is a God. I think she’s more like a bureaucrat, one who makes mistakes and sometimes helps to put those mistakes right.” He paused and said:” Like Carol, she’s a mistake only you can put right.”

They came to the doorway and M stopped and held up the jar: “This will put Cerberus to sleep…at least I hope it will.”

Dez took the jar and opened it. The smell was unbearable: rotten eggs and reeking leprous flesh. “What do you mean, ‘I hope it will.’?”

M smiled, revealing toothless gums. “Well it’s worked on the other two, they’ve been asleep for two hundred years…but the middle one’s already had two jars full – I think he’s the boss.”

Before Dez could ask any other questions, M yelled: “Demanem!” And the slab slid back into the wall. He grabbed Dez’s hand, pushed him through the doorway, gave him a penny, and said: “You’ll need this…oh, and this too.” He gave Dev the torch.

“But—”

“Demenem!”

The doorway sealed itself and Dez was alone again. “Wait,” he said. “You never told me how to get to the other side.”

No answer.

Dez thought for a moment, the said, “Demanem.”

Nothing happened. But after a moment Dez heard a low humming noise from the other side of the doorway and a small blue flame came passed through the wall. The flame buzzed around Dez’s head, Dez restrained the impulse to swat the thing, and then moved off. Dez followed; he had a pretty good idea that it was his guide.

7

Dez followed the thing, turning left when it turned left, and turning right when it turned right. Eventually it led him to an archway (About fifteen feet high, and twelve feet wide. Stone angels looked down from the archway as if cajoling Dez to walk underneath them.). On the other side was a white swirling whirlpool. It hung in the air and Dez could fell its power pulling at him, ruffling his hair, making the flame of his torch flicker and dance.

Dez was so transfixed by the doorway that he didn’t notice Cerberus. The giant black dog was the size of an adult elephant. It had three heads; the ones on the left and right hung loosely, snoring—sometimes whining or growling as if they were dreaming of chasing rabbits. The middle head, though, was not asleep. It growled, bearing ivory white fangs and spraying white foam from its mouth.

Dez tore his gaze away from the vortex and looked at the dog, whose red eyes narrowed to slits as it slowly got to its feet—the left head’s eyes opened slightly and then closed again.

“Good doggie,” Dez said, twisting the lid of the jar. “I bet you wanna treat, don’t ya?” His hand was shaking and the lid made a popping sound when it came off. He thanked God the other two didn’t wake.

Cerberus came closer, sniffed at the jar, and then sniffed at Dez as if trying to decide which would taste better. Dez held the jar up and Cerberus took it out of his hand—almost taking the hand with him in the process.

The dog ate the jar whole--The sound of glass being chewed made Dez cringe—and when he was finished he licked his lips before turning his attention back to Dez.

Dez didn’t move he was paralysed with fear. The dog’s eyes seemed to burn like molten lava and then dull to pale orange. The dog let out a mammoth yawn (covering Dez in spittle and blowing his hair about his head), moved around in a circle, laid its muzzle on its paws and closed its eyes. Within a few seconds it was snoring.

Dez wiped thick saliva from his face. He felt his gorge rise in his throat and swallowed it back. The blue flame that had led him here was gone. When he was satisfied that the mutt was actually asleep—and judging from the Harley Davidson roar of their snores they were—he stepped up to the portal.

8
Dez could see other colours in the portal: red, blue, yellow, violet, and green. He reached out and touched it, it felt like ice cold water. He held his hand there for a while and then he felt something on the other side pull it; he tried to snatch it back, but whatever was pulling was too strong. He was dragged towards the vortex and shouted out as he watched his forearm and then his bicep disappear inside.

He was yanked inside. The feeling was like jumping into ice cold water, every muscle in his body jumped and tightened. He closed his eyes and held his breath. He could feel himself being pulled downwards and tried to swim against the pull.

He came flying out the other side and fell rolling, kicking and gasping for air. When he opened his eyes the bright light made them sting and he had to squint against it. He waited for his eyes to adjust and then looked around. His first thought was that he’d been swallowed by a giant creature.

The floor, walls, and ceiling—which rose a hundred feet—were all the pinkish, red of flesh (it glowed from inside lighting up the room and seemed to pulse with its own rhythm like a beating heart). Directly in front of him was a blackish grey lake. Vapour rose lazily from the lake hiding its length and whatever land there might be on the other side.

Dez saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned in time to see a gondola float to the shore. The gondola was banana shaped and the man who stood atop the gondola made Dez’s eyes widen in shook and heart beat faster.

The man—if that’s what he was—was dressed in a long black hooded cloak. The cloak covered his face in shadow. But his hands, which gripped the gondola stick, were bleached bone.

“Payment,” he said, in a voice that sounded like fingernails scraping a blackboard.

Dez fumbled in his pocket. “I – I think I left my wallet in the van.” He found the penny M had given him and held it out to the man. “This is all I have.”

“That will do.” He held his hand out. Dez approached cautiously and stared at it before dropping the penny into it. The penny made a hollow noise when it hit the bone, and the man said: “I am The Ferryman. Do you wish to cross the river Styx?”

Dez nodded and jumped aboard. The ferry man used the gondola stick to push of from the shore, and started to row. The boat moved into the mist and Dez took one last look at the portal before it disappeared.

It took a long time to get to the other side. Dez fidgeted the whole time. He felt compelled to look into The Ferryman’s face but afraid of what he might see underneath his hood.

The ferryman only spoke once. “The girl you seek will not be hard to find.”

Dez didn’t answer. He saw the mist begin to thin and break as the came toward the other side. And then he heard Carol’s voice.

10
The Ferryman brought the boat to the shore and Dez jumped out.

Dez. Carol’s voice, faint but still recognisable.

A sheer wall stood in front of Dez with a honeycomb of doors. Dez chose one and ran through it.

“Follow the voice,” the ferryman called after him. “And beware the bull.”

Through the doorway was a maze. Dez paused wondering which way to go.

Dez, help me!

Dez ran towards the voice, changing direction every time it grew quieter. He was close when he heard the clip clop of what sounded like a horse behind him. He turned, trying to understand what he was seeing.

The figure was a Minotaur, a half man half beast hybrid. He’d heard the story when he was a child—it had given him nightmares; he’d woken up screaming every night and his foster parents had had to take him to a child psychologist. And now it was standing in front of him. It was exactly as he’d imagined: It stood like a man but was covered in fur; it was eight feet tall; it had a large ring through its nose; its eyes, large and yellow, had rectangular pupils. It looked into Dez’s eyes and then it grew smaller, its horns disappeared, and it became a man.

“Son,” it said, “you’ve been bad, son.” It removed its belt, wrapped the handle round its wrists, and said: “You know what happens when you’ve been bad.”

Dez felt his balls shrink and curl. “Dad?”

11

The thing laughed. “No, I’m the Pope…who do you think I am dick-wit?” It started to swing the belt back and fore. “Now hold still while I beat the living shit out of you, boy.”

Dez shrank back. “Please, Daddy, please don’t hit me again.”

No, Dez, don’t listen to him.

“You married a foreigner, too,” it said. “You been awful bad, son. I’m gonna lock you in the closet again.”

Dez closed his eyes and waited.

Sorry still havn't finished. But the end will be along soon. I promise.

gohn67 · 06-24-2005, 04:13 AM

Quote:

The man—if that’s what he was—was dressed in a long black hooded cloak. The cloak covered his face in shadow. But his hands, which gripped the gondola stick, were bleached bone.

Two cloaks so close to together was a bit awkward.

You leave off at a really interesting part, and now I have to wait to find out what happens.

I find it interesting becuase it makes me think about maybe his relationship with his dad may not have been perfect.

Anyways look forward to more.

Wyndstar · 06-24-2005, 11:41 PM

Hi semtecks

I see gohn and Chris have already beat me to the punch here, so I'll say just that after all your hero has seen, its odd that he accepts the appearance of his father without question.

Other than that---write more. This is fun.

semtecks · 06-26-2005, 11:04 AM

Story's been moved to fiction. If you want to see it click on the link above.