Hooks; let's write 'em.

[Saltheart]

I think it would be cool to have a thread where writers can work on grabbing the reader's attention with effective openings. I didn't see this thread here in the workshop already, so maybe we can practice here.

I'll start:

The trial was held in the first week of December. He was brought in in a large, green armored car, and the guards who escorted him trembled as they pushed him forward with the tips of their guns. Whether it was in fear or rage, having to restrain themselves the chance to shoot the crazy sonofab**** here and now, was unknown. He certainly seemed maniacal. His eyes seemed to permeate an evil kind of red glare as he walked up to the three high podiums, and when he walked past the assembly it was with the haughty strut only a madman could manage when faced with certain demise. He even managed a grin, showing his teeth, not red anymore, but plain yellow, as if they had never been tainted with the blood of all his victims.

He stood in front of the three judges.

Your turn.

 

[Commonmind]

If there's one thing Kelly McMillan hated, it was children. She kept a high-powered C02 pellet gun near an opened window in her kitchen for picking off the little bastards that had the gall to walk across her grass while she was looking. During her trips to the mailbox she carried a broomstick in plain view and would stand in her driveway reviewing the day's post, as if daring one of the local miscreants to harass her in the open. She tried almost anything to goad the neighborhood kids into doing something in front of her. In her eyes breathing was enough to justify a beating; as long as the offending puffer was on her property, she believed she had full right to bloody them up something fierce.

So, it wasn't that much of a surprise to anyone when the Police searched Miss. McMillan's 900 square-foot basement and found she had collected her own private stock of what she pegged "guilty souls," bagged and stuffed between her hot-water heater and the cavernous nook under the basement staircase.

What was a shock, however, was what Miss. McMillan told the police upon arrest. Not only had she claimed that she hadn't killed any of the children herself, but she stated that she mustn't be taken from the premises, or else it would get hungry and then they'd have a real problem on their hands.

 

[Lenny]

It might just be me, but that makes me think of Torchwood, Commonmind. Which in my eyes is a good thing.

I'll post a hook later. I need to think of one first.

 

[j d worthington]

"You might at least have told me, Martin," he complained.

"Told you what, my dear James?" Martin asked as he leaned over to pour the port into his glass. Glancing at James, he made a slight nod toward the second glass on the table. With a grimace James made a short, violent shake with his head.

As Martin returned to his seat, James continued:

"Told me you were going to sell her. Damn it, you know I haven't even got over you selling the last one yet. And you know, too, that I had an especial fondness for this one."

 

[Talysia]

"What do you mean, I can't come in?!"

She was angry, more so than ever. It wasn't bad enough that she had travelled so far just to see them, but now she wasn't being let in? Evidence of the Ancient's Empire was scarce to begin with, so maybe it wasn't so surprising that when a ruin as complete as this was discovered it would be protected by the powers that be. Still, she needed to get inside and see for herself. The item she needed might be inside, no matter how dangerous it was rumoured to be.

 

[Saltheart]

Some say I'm an unusual guy. What sort of cop is afraid of the dark? they ask. Well, I'll tell em: If you've been in this gig as long as I been, you learn a thing or two. The dark is not a safe place. Especially for cops. That's when they always take revenge.

A year ago I had a partner. Some time in October. A happy little fellow. Just outta college, just passed the exam. Young. Early twenties, probably. I never got to ask; he got gunned before I could. And of all places, in the dark.

The chief had told us to investigate....

 

[Duchessprozac]

Martin watched from his window as the giant hunks of metal flew through the atmosphere.


The news in the background gave reports of the grotesque monsters invading the major capitals of the world. The latest figures reported there were over 300,000 dead since the aliens had first started landing two days ago.


Martin had known about the impending invasion for over a month, but, of course, no one wants to believe a schizophrenic junkie, especially one that has just killed 28 people in the local mall.

 

[Saltheart]

It was wonderful knowing her. It was wonderful knowing her brother. It was wonderful knowing her father. It was wonderful knowing her mother. But it was not so wonderful having to kill them all. And that too, on my birthday.

 

[j d worthington]

I don't like it when these things get personal. This is a business, after all, and I don't normally have anything against these people.

But this guy came in on my personal time, and broke up a good card game. I mean, a really good card game, and I had one hell of a hand. Started waving that thing around and screaming his damnfool head off about his wife and kid, as if I'd deliberately gone after his wife and kid. Why the hell would I do that? They were just there and got in the way. Regrettable, but ... it happens. But it wasn't personal, until he busted up the game.

Then... well, not to be too flip, but...

"... and Daddy makes three...."

 

[Susan Boulton]

There is hooks and there are hooks,

For a moment I thought you meant the potted synopsis/hook that you put in a query to an agent or a publisher. Anyway, a couple of beginnings.

No 1.

The bitterness of Mulicifer’s existence echoed in the tapping of his steel shod heels, each perverted rap on the cobbles reminding him that he lived. His shoulders were stooped with a weight of anger, which had welded him into a warped tool ill tempered with harsh regret.

He stopped and turned, a callused hand reaching across for the blade at his side. The skittering behind him had faded into the shadows, holding tight to the deep concealment. A smile played on his lips. Would this encounter end the bile-ridden torture of his mere existence? Mulicifer doubted it. Fate would never be so kind. His hand tightened on the sword’s hilt, easing the steel shaft from its stiff sheath. His balance shifted, his knees bending.

No 2
Ab Initio From the beginning. It's Latin. No, I don't know Latin, have enough trouble with English. Just the phrase jumps out at me these days. It is roaming through my head now, keeping my brain from freezing. Wish it would have the same affect on my nose. Damn it is cold, as cold as my aunt Fanny's..., anyway cold.

The mane of my horse is clogged with ice, each time the creature shakes its head I get peppered with ice barbs. The leather of my saddle is damp with half melted snow. The rasp of my waterproofs on the thing sets my teeth on edge each time I slip. And I slip each time the beast steps forward.

 

[Talysia]

Chaos.

Things that looked like children's marbles were falling out of the sky - tiny, black orbs which shone with an fierce internal amber light - and when they hit the ground, they exploded. Buildings lay in ruin, and their inhabitants, who had run outside when their houses started being bombarded, lay dead in the streets. No sun could get through the greasy pall of dark cloud that obliterated the sky, and the air smelled foul and acrid. The noise was deafening.

Is this an attack? What's going on? he thought, staring up at the sky as the chaos rained around him. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was a fine day in hell.

 

[Saltheart]

"Hey, what's wrong?" said her best friend.

 

[Oxman]

I killed my best friend today. It was the second time this week that he'd died.

 

[Myth]

The Union Jack meant nothing to Juvenal. Looking intently up at it, he imagined many people before him had smiled with pride, hands on hearts as the old patriots went about it. It must have been important to his parents, why else would they leave a child under the great flag?

“’Haps it’s a clue they left for you, Juven,” Lew had once said.

At one time, long ago, it stood as the central point of village life. Now it was just a pole with an old flag, torn and faded—disregarded, like the pile of wolf bones at his feet.

 

[Talysia]

Walking in mid air was not something you did every day.

She looked down, her eyes widening at the sheer drop beneath her, but for some reason she kept going. She needed to get across the chasm, and she had been told that this was the only way. That didn't mean she had to like it, though.

 

[monomaniac101]

Oh, cool! I hope this works okay...

At Forestville High School, there are two reigning forces that determine your social status. One is your personality. The other, which totally overrides your personality, is Missy Samuels. I’ve learned this already and I’ve only been going to Forestville High for three months.
Now, I consider myself a very likeable person. I might even go so far as to say that I’m good-looking. But not according to Missy Samuels. I took one wrong step on my second day of tenth grade, and now I’m on her bad side. I’ll take you back to those first two days, so you can see exactly how I, Mark Bennett, became a loser.

 

[HardScienceFan]

Laurent Ocwoba knew something was gravely wrong the minute his son silently sat down for supper and poked disinterestedly at some grains of rice
on his plate.
"Why not buy shares of Aryan Bloodline Karyotyping TODAY?",a holomercial
bleated into the solemn dinnertable silence.The president of the First Islamic bank of Lake Malawi City cursed violently under his breath.
Yesterday it was "Buy SMATAC Nukes,we use only radionucleides with a short
halflife,so why wait?Safeguard Your Corporate Interests The Best way,The SMATAC way!"
Suddenly his son bawled "Dad,they messed up Pepe!"

 

[Talysia]

The moon shone down on the sleeping city, casting the scene with its ethereal light. It was the perfect time for him to be about. No-one would see him, and those who did were probably too drunk to care, or would believe what they'd seen to be a vision from the bottle they were holding. Scarcely a shadow himself, he flitted from street to street, looking for his target.

 

[Ben.ak]

A fierce down poor did little to help settle the dust and debris; as is continued to fall it mixed with the dense soot about him, thickening the air to a point were he rasped for air through his quickened heart beat.

He stood, soaked in the center of the dark street, a single street light luminated the destruction he had caused. By accident of course; he had never meant to kill his best friend, level his house and the surrounding block. Still, small shards of metal and shingles struck the ground with loud pops like festive explosions on the fourth of July.

His balance was slipping and as he struggled to keep himself upright, he lifted a hand and felt the numb nub he had for a right arm. Blood pumped out of it like a damaged sink drain and the loss of blood was nauseating. As the blood collected on the ground next to him he began to lose his grip on reality and slowly like the air around him his vision thickened; until, after a final stretch for life; he fell, with his vision now gone he could not see the ground come up at him and rip his consciousness from him with a dull thud.

 

[HardScienceFan]

He had had one of these nightmares again.

He awoke,heart pounding,causing muffled explosions in his ears.
Cold sweat,deep primeval fear of falling asleep again and then having the same dream.

He got out of bed,swaying a little,then plodded downstairs to the kitchen thinking "Better stay awake for a little while now".He thought of opening up a can of beer,thought better of it,and said:"Music,please".The notes drifted in and out of his consciousness,and slowly the enormous tense and horrifying feeling the dream had generated drained out of him.He suddenly smiled,realizing he had said "please" to what was, to all intents and purposes,only a machine.
He started to breathe regularly, deeply,counting between inhalations and exhalations.His jackhammering heart slowly assumed some semblance to a regular beat,and it began to dawn on him that,as nightmares went,this one hadn't really been that bad.
In this one,only one of his kids had died,and his wife still lived.