Untitled Horror Short Story - Opening (802 words) - (Sexual Nature Content) - (ESL)

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  1. #1

    Untitled Horror Short Story - Opening (802 words) - (Sexual Nature Content) - (ESL)

    Hello all. I'm writing a short horror story and I'd like to know how this opening is faring. I'm from Brazil and I'm writing in Portuguese, so perfect English spelling and phrase structure is not my main concern. My inspirations for this is Japanese Horror (Ryu Murakami and Koji Suzuki) and Silent Hill (the second game, to be more exact).

    1) How do you like the descriptions?

    2) Is my initial "promise" alright? Considering I'm writing a horror story and things will get weird.

    3) I'm thinking about sending this to Wattpad, in Portuguese. I've seen some discussion about the platform here and I agree with many of the complaints about poor-quality works published there. In Portuguese (believe me) it gets even worse. What do you think about Wattpad? I want more opinions on this.

    4) Any thoughts on the characters?

    ----

    At some point, she would have to stop talking. It was not possible that someone could talk for so long.

    “And on that day, my brother asked her what she thought about him and so… and then…”

    Alana wished to arrive at the Beach Festival as soon as possible. Every summer, when she arrived at Saint Expedite to enjoy summer vacations with her family, the same happened. On the first day Daniele would spill over her a heap of savor less news and stories, and then she would repeat every one for the next days. A talking machine, for sure, but also one of the few friends she had at Saint Expedite. She made good company if she wasn’t gabbling.

    “Dan, let’s go by the old road shortcut?”

    “Why? Didn’t you want to stop by Patrick’s house first?”

    “Oh, forget it. I can meet him there.”

    Daniele shrugged. However, Alana knew she didn’t like going thru the old road. The shake of her hair curls always gave her away when she disliked something. The shortcut was too close to the swamp and some parts of it were dark. Besides that, Daniele believed in all that mystics and folklore of Saint Expedite. The woman that turned into a pig, werewolves prowling at night, lost demons… And they dare call me a fancy lady from the city, Alana thought.

    Maybe the swamp will make her silent. The dirt road had a wet aspect around those parts and a strong soil smell, which used to calm her nerves. Small and dark mud puddles were everywhere, forcing them to walk in diagonals, like if they were already drunk. Mud stuck in her white sneakers, but the result made her garb look cooler. Alana liked it. Daniele would have to manage the mud getting inside her sandals, but she was probably used to it. It didn’t end the gabble.

    “Couple of new houses around here, huh?” Alana asked, intending to cut her off. One more word about Daniele’s brother and she would snap.

    “Yes, yes, the city is growing. But I would not build a house so close to the swamp, God! Such a beautiful house so close to…”

    Alana took a deep breath. Daniele talked slower as she explained how her house would be. That gave Alana some room to think about what she would find at the Beach Festival. Patrick would be there, that she knew. But would the festival be crowded? Would there be too many old people? She hated when the ladies from Saint Expedite twisted her mouths at her shorts like if they were judges of something important.

    “Is your father talking to Mr. Vandré again?” Daniele asked as they neared the man’s house. Vandré and her father fought over some bullshit, someone had taken a beer cask from the other or something like that.

    “Yes, but that doesn’t make them friends again, I guess.”

    That put them both in silence, revealing the swamp relaxing croaks. On the opposite side of Uncle Vandré’s house, there were the remains of a mansion that Alana had never paid attention to. The land was huge and its back touched the beginning of the swamp. Next to the remains the walls, white as bones, she saw a luminous red dot fighting against darkness.

    Her heart came jumping to her mouth, bringing a scream in tow. She held it on her throat but sobbed loudly. Her hands went to her chest. What a freak, she thought.

    “What happened?” Daniele asked.

    “No- nothing. It was nothing.”

    The red dot moved, supported by a thick and white smoke. A man was smoking by the house remains. Alana could taste the tar on her Tongue’s tip. She looked away from him. Daniele was twisting her cheeks on a grimace.

    “You are so white right now I can’t believe it. Are you all right?”

    Just nodding, Alana focused on going forward and sank both feet in a puddle. What was to be an adornment became a disaster. The water rushed inside her sneakers, soaking her socks and creating puddles under her toes. Her snickers looked like a clay jar.

    “Damn it!”

    “Calm down. We can clean it. Do you want to go back?”

    The inconvenient suggestion accentuated her anger, but Alana held the curses on her stomach. She knew the smoking man was observing them. Risking a peek, she confirmed her suspicion. The cigar tip was close to the ground. Misaligned teeth revealed themselves in between a brown and messed up beard. His eyes were bloodshot.

    Alana knew that kind of look. Full of desire. So much blood pumping up that it could pop one’s eye veins.

    “Let’s get away from here,” she said to Daniele, holding her impetus of running wild.

  2. #2
    I like the directions this could take. Good imagination. Right away I was questioning as a reader or imagining if the swamp is alive? It's an old horror trope. Next, I was asking what is causing their eyes to be bloodshot. That alone can generate a plot. A really good start for a story.

    Well here is my reasoning: I couldn't picture how a swamp could silence her. It might have been a grammatical mistake, or personification.

    You might need feedback on the English to make sure there's no confusion:

    Daniele would have to manage the mud getting inside her sandals, but she was probably used to it. It didn’t end the gabble. (this I was not 100% sure)

    Maybe the swamp will make her silent. (maybe the sound of the swamp will silence her voice.)
    Vandré and her father fought over some bullshit, someone had taken a beer cask from the other or something like that.

    should cask be phrased as: (the cask of a beer bottle.)

    1) How do you like the descriptions?

    2) Is my initial "promise" alright? Considering I'm writing a horror story and things will get weird.

    3) I'm thinking about sending this to Wattpad, in Portuguese. I've seen some discussion about the platform here and I agree with many of the complaints about poor-quality works published there. In Portuguese (believe me) it gets even worse. What do you think about Wattpad? I want more opinions on this.

    4) Any thoughts on the characters?
    The description needs some tweaking in some places. The order of words might be off.

    Using the word gabble might be acceptable but you shouldn't use hard works in a story.

    The promise is alright. I was thinking it could be. I like the weirdness in the story. I mean if the bloodshot eyes are a health condition I don't know. Or an intent to kill? Or some strange thing going on in the story which merits an explanation.

    The characters come off as mysterious as does the situation they are in, as one or more could be influenced by supernatural powers if I could predict the plot or wonder what would happen next. Here are my questions? This seems more mystery to me with horror. If I could say what is going on it is hinging on a guess. But to see the development of a character, I am just giving my first impressions. It seems one does not like another. Because they talk too much. We need to see something happen to know a character better.

    The life of being influenced by a supernatural power puts their life in danger, is my take. That is if there is a sentient part of the world. But might be a grammar problem in the narrative. That was my first interpretation of the plot and its beginning.

    I hope I am being honest and wrote a good critique. One that helps, since those are the ones I do like to get.

    Still like I said enjoyed and as a 1st draft not bad at all. The imagination is in this piece. Just needs to be turned into something using your imagination (that was used to write the draft).
    Last edited by Theglasshouse; May 11th, 2018 at 01:56 PM.
    I would follow as in believe in the words of good moral leaders. Rather than the beliefs of oneself.
    The most difficult thing for a writer to comprehend is to experience silence, so speak up. (quoted from a member)

  3. #3
    This is a great answer, thanks a lot. I'm going to copy your comments to scrivener and work with them on a second draft.

  4. #4
    You are very welcome. Glad I could help.
    I would follow as in believe in the words of good moral leaders. Rather than the beliefs of oneself.
    The most difficult thing for a writer to comprehend is to experience silence, so speak up. (quoted from a member)

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