dragonbreath

Thomas Fitchens walked through the dark, wet streets of London. The rain fell hard on his shoulders, the wind blew hard on his face and the coldness of the night wrapped around him, threatening to turn him into ice.
The only light came from the dim street lamps and the soft glow of the half-moon. And the thick smell of sewage burnt the insides of his nostrils. He took a right while letting out of shiver.

Thomas wasn’t the only one roaming the streets. A small man carrying a large brown package clumsily walked down the street, carrying with him a more forgiving smell then the manholes. As he passed him, he couldn’t help but wonder who he was? What he did? Did he have family? A family, he didn’t have family.
He grew up a lonely orphan, with no mention of family. The orphanage gave the impression of a jail. The children were cruel, the food was terrible and he never once went outside. After eighteen years of waiting for adoption, it never came. He was finally ‘released’ at eighteen, abandoned to the dirty streets, with no words of guidance, no helping hand.
Just a push out the door and he was cast into the dark, filthy world. Some say he went mad, what from all he’d went through. Nine years since that day had past, and he was doing fine.

He walked past an extra rotten light post, and turned left towards home. His black cloak made no help to ward of the rain and cold, soaking his dirty brown hair. His brownish eyes scanned the houses, which were stacked roughly upon each other. Not one light was on, not one.
Why was London so dark and cold? Recently a sadistic killer had recently walked among the streets. He called himself “Jack the ripper” and killed in imaginative ways.
Jack made his first kill on an unsuspecting prostitute, leaving her corpse in the rain to rot. The police were baffled; they suspected him to be some kind of doctor, what with the way she was mangled so carefully. More were to follow, four more to be exact. People were scared, he didn’t know why? He only killed those filthy hookers, he thought, so why did everyone else threat.
After the fifth he vanished, just vanished. But he left London in a constant state of fear.
He figured it brought out the worst in people, made them think he’d strike again. He even hazarded a guess that he left people to question who else could do such a thing.
“Whatever” he mumbled “not my business”.

Finally reaching the large, black door; he grabbed the key from his coat pocket and stabbed it into the keyhole, then turned it slowly until a ‘click’ welcomed him in. He withdrew it and pushed his way in. Home, what a pathetic place. The dust and grim coated everything. Left over food was scattered everywhere, poisoning the air with its stench.
“Disgusting” he muttered. He didn’t consider himself a bitter man, only a man who knew what he wanted, and he wanted silence. But he received none.
“Home so late” Yelled an old, familiar voice. He didn’t answer the voice of Benjamin Knot, the voice that always broke his wanted silence. The voice which feed his hatred, which fueled his lingering temptation.
“Can’t say I’m surprised” he said swaggering down the stairs.
“You’re what I like to call a ‘prowler’, going wherever you please, and coming home whenever you like. Well I got news for you Tom, I need my sleep!” He came into full view now. The candle on the table lit up his features, his blue eyes glaring deeply at him and his half bald head seemed to shine. Tom was sitting down and they were equal in height. Benjamin never stopped to take a breath, not once.

It had to be one o'clock in the morning, for the street lamps began to die down, one by one. He keeps complaining, it’s irradiating him like mad.
“I don’t want you coming in late any more” He says. "I want you here by Midnight, no later". Now he's giving me curfews? Who are you to tell me what to do, he thought. His anger almost at its limit.
Do it, do what your thinking of doing a voice began inside him.
Yet another voice to break his silence. But he knew this voice; this voice was always right, so he obeyed it like a dog on a leash. But this time it goes too far. I won’t, he thought to the voice, it’s a crime he thought again. Kill Benjamin Knot; Kill the silence breaker the voice said. No he thought; it’s wrong. Kill him it said KILL HIM it repeated. Tom was not listening, he was thinking of the silence, his paresis silence. The voice was right; he would get it, but was it worth it? Was it worth killing his only friend? Benjamin was still complaining. Tom was angry now, and he didn't like being angry. He leaped out of his seat and was now looking down at Ben. Ben backed away, but he advanced with every move he made. KILL HIM it repeated. Do it he thought, it won’t be hard.

With out a moment of hesatation, he lunged for Ben as he gave a loud yelp. He wrapped his hands around him, and squeezed, hard.
Benjamin trashed about, but Tom held him back, squeezing even harder. Shaking his neck violently, he soon came to realize that Benjamin J. Knot was no more. His heart had stopped pumping, his lungs had stopped moving. His face was blank and his voice no longer had its gleam; Benjamin J. Knot was dead, Thomas L. fitchens killed him.

You killed him the voice said, you’re a killer. “You told me to” he said, and you listened, you’re a murderer. “No, where in this together!” he yelled. Your mad, you killed him.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, the voice told him to, he didn’t want to, but he did. It’s all that voices fault.
He turned to Ben, his eyes gaping at his own. What was it about the cold stare of a dead man that brought even the bravest of them to his knees. Was it the way they seemed to look into your soul, or was it simply guilt. He let out a shiver and looked away.

“I have to get red of the body” he said, but Where? He thought. Leave himit said, turn yourself in. “I won’t! Get away, get out of my head” he yelled. Look at yourself, talking to yourself, you’re mad, you deserve to die. Tom was boiling now.
“NO” He yelled flinging the table into the air and everything on it. He was breathing heavily, his eyes turning red. He was going mad, talking to voices, killing, he didn’t deserve to live.

I’ll dump the body over the bridge, he thought. Comp now, he lifted the heavy Benjamin, heaved him over his shoulder and headed out the door. You'll never make It; someone will catch you it said.
He knew it wasn’t the best idea to walk around town with a body on his shoulder, but he wasn’t going to listen to the voice. It wasn’t raining any more, nor was it cold, just the right condition for a late evening stroll.

He couldn’t believe his luck; he made it to the bridge and not a soul in sight. He made his way to the heart of the bridge, and leaped onto the edge. They will find the corpse, they will. And then they will find you, they will. He ignored it; he won’t have to worry about it, not where he’s going.
Looking down, he braced himself, how hard is it. Harder then he had thought, that much was sure. He stepped closer to the edge, do it he thought, let it go he thought.
You’re crazy; I know what you’re thinking it said. Don't, it said, do it he thought. He did. Holding the body tightly, and thinking of every thing he didn’t have, with no regrets he stepped off the ledge of the bridge.

Two bodies were found drifting of the shore of the harbor on the 8th of May. One of the bodies seemed to be heaving the other over its shoulder. The police didn't stop to think once of why the other jumped, guilt they concluded simply.
Guilt does drive people to do the craziest things, but never this. There must have been something else that drove that man off that ledge.

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half full or half empty? i look at it this way:
if you fill a cup completly and drink half way, it's half empty.
if you fill a cup only half way, it's half full.

gohn67

Hey DragonBreath,
I like your writing style. Some nice sentences that really worked well together.

Also you described the action really well and mixed it well with Thomas' inner thoughts. I especially liked how you got into the characters head. Especially in a third person story, something I have extreme difficulty with.

To be honest, I'm getting sick of the serial killer stories. There seems to be too many of them. Not saying that you did a bad job, I'm just tired of reading about the subject.


I actually almost didn't read this thing. I read the first sentence and I wanted to stop. The sentence is really awkward and could probably be better if it was written in more than 1 sentence.

fitchens = Fitchens?

light used twice in one sentence. Makes it awkward to read.

This sentence is weak. You say it smells like filth. Then the next sentence you use it was tained with filth. Seems kind of redundant.

wasn't "the" only?

Also we already that is a cold and gloomy night. Repetiive.

A few things here.

1. How come you change to first person here. Really threw me off.

2. Is Thomas "Jack the Ripper"? It seemed like it. The way you wrote it.

---
Okay, I think that the grammar needs alot of work. But that can be learned, if you work on it enough.

And the tenses are inconsistent.

Also don't forget to check your and you're. Make sure you have the right one.

Plotwise I didn't notice any holes. Other than that strange Jack the Ripper part. Becuase I wasn't sure if Thomas was Jack the ripper or if he wasn't

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The Frowning Dog Blog

dragonbreath

i edited it and fixed it up

Your right, the jack the ripper part is cunfusing, i fixed it up a bit to hopfuly let people knoe that Thomhas is not jack the ripper, i'm only telling why london was gloomy, because the ripper recently killed 5 hookers and didn't get cought.
(Jack the ripper is a true story, you know that right?)

Thanks Gohn for all your help and for taking your time to review my story

__________________
half full or half empty? i look at it this way:
if you fill a cup completly and drink half way, it's half empty.
if you fill a cup only half way, it's half full.

Graff

I did enjoy this story, but was nagged by all the grammar and spelling errors. There were so many it was just getting on my nerves. I'm not going to point them out, with some work you can do it yourself.

I liked the mood you created in the story, but found the writing to be inconsistant. One sentence would be brilliant, and the next wouldn't work at all.

All in all I enjoyed it, but it most certainly needs some work.

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"Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all his sentences short, or that he avoid all detail and treat his subjects only in outline, but that every word tell." -- William Strunk Jr.

dragonbreath

Thanks Graff
i changed some grammer mistakes, but i know there are alot more.

i was never really good at spelling and grammer, once i spelled very wrong!! so i guess i'll have to work on that. My brain has been half on since the summer too, but school's in 4 days so its time to turn my brain to full power!!

again thamks for reviewing my story

__________________
half full or half empty? i look at it this way:
if you fill a cup completly and drink half way, it's half empty.
if you fill a cup only half way, it's half full.

jean-Paul j.

I am actually someone who has psychic powers and sometimes hears voices in my head. They do not allways tell me to do what I think is right. Don't be scared, but I like the part where he gets it in the end, perhaps when rigor mortis sets in. Keep it up, remember that in general there is a give and take, a good deed for a bad deed, a bad for a good. That's just the cosmic cycle. I don't find it unnatural that JAck the macking hack's emanations would drive him crazy enough to kill. Maybe find reasons why the maniac spirit drove the man to strangulation. Actually a lot of killers kill empty - handed through strangulation.

dragonbreath

he killed because he wanted complete silence, he wanted to be alone. Jack the ripper has no part in the killing, i wrote about him to give the reason london was so gloomy at that time.

thanks

__________________
half full or half empty? i look at it this way:
if you fill a cup completly and drink half way, it's half empty.
if you fill a cup only half way, it's half full.

Taz

Good work i liked it i'll keep reading your stuff in the future

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With passion and enthusiasm we shall succeed!

Gafgarian

Hello Dragonbreath...

I'd like to start off by saying that I enjoyed the plot...it was pretty captivating psychological short story, which is sometimes hard to do, especially with the length that you did write it in.

However, there are a few things that I felt I should point out.

Besides the grammar, spelling, and punctuation which was already pointed out, I think that a little more research is necessary if you are choosing to write a story in the time period that I assumed this was in. Since it says that Jack the Ripper had recently happened, I assumed it was in late 1888 or early 1889.


In Jack the Ripper's time there was little if any knowledge of forensics, ruling the death of these men as a homicide/suicide would be nearly impossible and probably wouldn't have been assumed to be more than two men who drowned, possibly after falling out of a boat, the current entangling them with eachother.

This would probably read better as "Finally reaching the large black door, he grabbed the key from his coat pocket..."

You say...
then you say....It's confusing, changing it to "without hesitating" or something of the like...

The first two are a bit redundant in my opinion, I thought at first that they were supposed to be that way, which would've been okay, but then you said that "he felt it to be all three"

Yeah that is about it, overall it was a good read but it has the feeling of a work in progress, and if it isn't it certainly should be...adios.

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“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.” – Oscar Wilde

dragonbreath

Thank you both Gafgarian and Taz for reading my story!!
And yes, i know i don't (and probaly never will) have good punction and grammer and spelling!!
And it diffenitly is a worki in progress, and i'll fix it up a bit more!!

Thanks Again!

__________________
half full or half empty? i look at it this way:
if you fill a cup completly and drink half way, it's half empty.
if you fill a cup only half way, it's half full.

~~

Evocative is how I would describe this story in a word. And I'm guessing that's exactly what you were aiming for. Your descriptive writing does the job, although certain sentences, like:

"the coldness of the night wrapped around him, threatening to turn him to ice."

sound a little inelegant if you see what I mean. Coldness is wrapping and threatening and turning. You've personified Coldness, which is good, but portrayed it as something that doesn't really make sense.

Plot-wise, I enjoyed it and found it interesting. The murderer's search for silence is a good idea and a plausible one. But the depiction of insanity (schizophrenia?) reminded me of Gollum in the Lord of the Rings and I don't think that's a good thing. Voices-in-the-head have been done before, but they could sound fresh if given a new voice. "KILL HIM" is not a very original thing for your voice-in-the-head to say.

Apologies if you want more grammar corrections, I don't tend to do them.