Mental Break-short story assignment

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

This is just the first part of my second short story assignment for my writing class. Once again, critiques on content, description, and characterization wanted. (Warning: Some harsh language used)

Katana awoke with a throbbing pain in the back of her head, and she was groggy and disoriented. She reached up with her left arm to apply pressure, only to find her wrists constrained by shackles, which were attached to the dank stone walls she was leaning against with chains.

As she slowly regained her senses, she realized she was in trouble. The floor was covered in a slippery, slimy substance that would have caused her to fall had her arms not been shackled. Across the wall she was against she was able to make out the thick black iron bars of a dungeon cell. She noticed the room and hallway beyond were dimly lit by small torches hanging on the walls, the flickering light causing the darkness to dance around her.

It was the smell of the room that disturbed her the most, however. The smells exuding from the walls and floor were dank and fermented. They smelled of dried, rotting blood. They smelled of stagnant water and pungent mold. They smelled of death.

It was only when she fully came to that she realized that the back of her head was not her only problem. The right side of her face felt sticky and dry, and she shuddered at the thought of what such a condition could have been caused by.

She was also very cold, colder than she had ever been when she had been down in these dungeons. She looked down at her body in horror to discover that all but her underclothes were missing, her abdomen and ribs covered in shallow cuts and deep, dark bruises. She shook her shackles loudly.

“HEY!” she screamed as loud as she could. “GET ME THE **** OUT OF HERE! I DON’T DESERVE TO BE IN HERE! I’M A MAESHALANADAE! GET ME OUT!”

Her shouts echoed throughout the dungeon, but went unanswered. She dropped her head and cried.


She didn’t know how long she was out. She awoke to the sound of the lock of her cell door clicking and the door creaking open.

“Who’s there!?!” she shouted. “Get me out of here!”

A large man wearing an ink-black robe with a deep hood stepped in. His hands were covered in thick, black leather gloves that contained silver studs on the fingers between the middle and bottom knuckles, and his face was covered by a smooth, shining mask the same shade as his robe; all except his eyes, which were a piercing, icy blue.

“Who the **** are you and why the **** am I in here!?!” Katana shrieked at him. “When my grandfather finds out what you did to me you’ll regret the day you were born!”

The masked man laughed, a hollow sound devoid of humor and with all the warmth of an iceberg. “Child, you have no idea why you’re in here, do you?” His voice was as hallow as his laugh, and lacked any resemblance to anything human.

“All I know is that when I get out of here and get my stuff back I’ll kill you and whoever else did this to me!”

The man pulled on his right glove slightly, stretching his fingers. “I doubt that, child,” he said to her. He slammed his fist into her abdomen, making her double over as far as her shackles would allow, causing her to cough and splutter.

“Be grateful you’re still alive, kid,” he whispered to her. “If I had my way, I would have killed you instantly for what you did.” He swung his fist at her head, connecting with her temple. Katana’s eyes rolled back in her head and her head slumped to the side. The man laughed once more and walked calmly out of her cell, the door latching and locking behind him.

 

[zachariah]

One thing that struck me straight away was the dialogue. It sounds like a modern-day mafia thug and a street punk. But the setting seems to be generic fantasy medieval. One of these has got to change to fit.

Judging by your Avatar, you clearly have a vested interest in the name 'Maeshalanadae'. It stopped me in my tracks for two reasons: 1) I had to work out how to pronounce it, and 2) It's one syllable away from being a parody name. This is just my reaction, YMMV.

It's an involving piece, with a strong emotional appeal. I can't say I'm drawn to Katana - she sounds a bit too sorry for herself, and too used to relying on her social status (though this could well be what you intend). I'm left wondering if she does in fact deserve some kind of punishment, but it's too early to tell (she could have been imprisoned for something we would consider very minor but is a major crime in her world, like some kind of religious insult, which would tip the balance back in her favour).

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

The world she's in is complicated-it's really a combination setting, which is to say that medieval ideas are still used, yet there's some major advancements as well.

I can post the rest of the story later, and you'll see what she did to deserve imprisonment. I intentionally left her crimes a mystery until the end.

And yes-she's emotional, relies extremely heavily on her social status, and feels sorry for herself over even the smallest grievance.


And, well....as for the name, it's elvish in her world.....

 

[Pyan]

Katana awoke with a throbbing pain in the back of her head, and she was

You don't need this, just a comma will do.

groggy and disoriented. She reached up with her left arm to apply pressure, only to find her wrists constrained by shackles, which were attached to the dank stone walls she was leaning against with chains.

"with chains" needs to be moved further back in the sentence.

As she slowly regained her senses, she realized she was in trouble. The floor was covered in a slippery, slimy substance that would have caused her to fall had her arms not been shackled. Across the wall she was against she was able to make out the thick black iron bars of a dungeon cell.

This doesn't make sense...

She noticed the room and hallway beyond were dimly lit by small torches hanging on the walls, the flickering light causing the darkness to dance around her.

It was the smell of the room that disturbed her the most, however. The smells exuding from the walls and floor were dank and fermented. They smelled of dried, rotting blood. They smelled of stagnant water and pungent mold. They smelled of death.

A bit overdone - I know what you're trying to say, but six things is possibly too many.

It was only when she fully came to that she realized that the back of her head was not her only problem.

I really think that she would have noticed this a little earlier in the piece - she's noticed the smells, what the floor is like, the room, the lighting, and the bars so far, and only now has she fully come to...?

The right side of her face felt sticky and dry,

One or the other, surely

and she shuddered at the thought of what such a condition could have been caused by.

She was also very cold, colder than she had ever been when she had been down in these dungeons. She looked down at her body in horror to discover that all but her underclothes were missing,

Sounds a bit odd this way around - maybe "..to discover she had been stripped down to her underclothes..."

her abdomen

A bit posh - "belly"?, "stomach"?

and ribs covered in shallow cuts and deep, dark bruises. She shook her shackles loudly.

“HEY!” she screamed as loud as she could. “GET ME THE **** OUT OF HERE!

This is a very American construction - not that there's anything wrong with that, but it does sound a bit odd coming from the (presumed) culture the piece is set in

I DON’T DESERVE TO BE IN HERE! I’M A MAESHALANADAE! GET ME OUT!”

Her shouts echoed throughout the dungeon, but went unanswered. She dropped her head and cried.


She didn’t know how long she was out. She awoke to the sound of the lock of her cell door clicking and the door creaking open.

“Who’s there!?!” she shouted. “Get me out of here!”

A large man wearing an ink-black robe with a deep hood stepped in. His hands were covered in thick, black leather gloves that contained silver studs on the fingers between the middle and bottom knuckles, and his face was covered by a smooth, shining mask the same shade as his robe; all except his eyes, which were a piercing, icy blue.

A bit confused here - the difference in the colours gets mixed up with what the mask covers

“Who the **** are you and why the **** am I in here!?!” Katana shrieked at him. “When my grandfather finds out what you did to me you’ll regret the day you were born!”

The masked man laughed, a hollow sound devoid of humor and with all the warmth of an iceberg. “Child, you have no idea why you’re in here, do you?” His voice was as hallow

hollow

as his laugh, and lacked any resemblance to anything human.

“All I know is that when I get out of here and get my stuff back I’ll kill you and whoever else did this to me!”

The man pulled on his right glove slightly, stretching his fingers. “I doubt that, child,” he said to her. He slammed his fist into her abdomen, making her double over as far as her shackles would allow, causing her to cough and splutter.

just "comma, coughing and spluttering", you don't need the "causing her to"

“Be grateful you’re still alive, kid,” he whispered to her. “If I had my way, I would have killed you instantly for what you did.” He swung his fist at her head, connecting with her temple. Katana’s eyes rolled back in her head and her head slumped to the side. The man laughed once more and walked calmly out of her cell, the door latching and locking behind him.

Hmm. "Show, don't tell" can lead to odd constructions. I don't think that the sentence
"She noticed the room and hallway beyond were dimly lit by small torches hanging on the walls, the flickering light causing the darkness to dance around her."
is done any favours by tacking the first two words on..


Sorry to sound a bit harsh, Karn, but I trust you'll take this in the spirit that it's offered...

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

I see where you're coming from, Py. And the "hallow" thing was an obvious typo I overlooked.


I'll go over it later, I think. This was just an assignment, but I think it's worth keeping and looking over.

Here's the rest of it, just in case that might help clear some things up.

“Wake up, kid. It’s dinner time.” A voice shook her out of her sleep. Katana awoke to see another robed and masked figure standing in front of her. This one was a woman, however, and her hands were bare, and Katana could see they were devoid of color. The woman’s robe was crimson red, as was her mask.

“What?”

“The boss says he doesn’t want you to starve.”

Katana stared down at the tray of food on the floor. It consisted of stale-looking bread and a bit of beef that was obviously a few days old.
“And if I refuse?”

The woman stared at her with the same piercing blue eyes the man before her had. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, kid,” she said. “The boss gets upset when he doesn’t get what he wants, and he has some rather exotic ways of showing it.”

“And why should I give a ****?” Katana demanded, struggling again against her chains. “Get me out of here!”

The woman stared at her, and Katana could see pity and remorse in her eyes, the first human emotion she had sensed from her captors.

“I wish I could,” the woman said. “But I don’t have the key to your locks and I could get into horrible trouble if I helped you.”

“Then how the hell am I supposed to eat if you can’t unshackle me!?!”

“Someone will be in here in a while to unlock your chains.” The woman turned, and Katana could have almost sworn she heard a sigh coming out from the woman. But the woman didn’t remain in her cell long enough for Katana to be completely sure.

“Like I told the one before you, I’m not going to eat,” Katana said. The other person inside her cell with her, like the two before him, was robed and masked, both of the clothing types crimson like the woman’s. His eyes were the exact same color as the others’ as well, which disturbed Katana greatly. Like the woman before him, this man’s hands were uncovered, and they, too, were chalk white.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” he told her calmly as he unlocked first Katana’s left shackle, then her right. “You WILL eat-one way or another.”

Katana rubbed her wrists then immediately went for the man’s throat, her hands closing around them.

“You should have never unlocked those chains!” she hissed.

The man stared at her, then suddenly his body dissolved, reforming about a foot in front of her cell on the opposite side. Katana stumbled, off balance, a look of terror and surprise on her face.

“Foolish child. You can’t kill us.” He dissolved again, reforming inside her cell right in front of her. Katana yelped and fell backward, crawling backward until she hit the far corner of her cell.

“Now, are you going to eat by yourself, or do I have to force feed you?” the man asked, lifting the tray from the floor and handed it off to her.

Katana didn’t answer, instead taking the tray and stared at its contents. Slowly she lifted the filthy-looking wooden fork and knife. She gagged as she placed a bite of beef into her mouth. It tasted the way her cell smelled, of blood and mold and rot. The masked man chuckled softly as he left. It was even more deathly than the laugh her original captor had let out, and it chilled Katana to the bone.

“Grandpa, where are you?” she whispered, her voice and eyes thick with tears. “Why won’t you come save me?” She started sobbing. “LET ME OUT!”

Once more her cries went unanswered, echoing again throughout the damp stone walls.

“What are we going to do about the prisoner?” a crimson-robed man asked.

The man with the gloves and black robes stood. “We have to keep her here for her punishment,” he said. “Her crimes were far too great to allow her to get out of here.”

“I say we have our way with her,” the other man growled, jumping up.

“She’s a lush wench. I’d bet she’d be a hell of a ride.”

The black-robed one held his hand up. “You know we don’t do that with prisoners that are still alive,” he said.
The other man grumbled as he sat down. “If I had my way she’d be taken every day,” he muttered.

“Be that as it may, you are not in command here, Baal. I am.”

“So you’ve so clearly demonstrated before, Azrael.” The crimson-robed man glared at him.

The black-robed figure fired a piercing gaze at the other, causing the man to cower, and nodded.

“Starve her for a few days more,” he ordered. “And extinguish the torches within fifty feet of her cell.”

The others nodded and shuffled out, one by one; all except the woman, who remained behind.

“Don’t you think we’re being too hard on the girl?” she asked. “I honestly don’t think she even remembers why she’s here.”

“Which is exactly why we need more stringent punishments,” Azrael told her. “You know as well as I do that we only receive the worst criminals, Lilith.”

The woman sighed. “Starvation and a constant darkness? I thought those procedures were themselves criminal acts, Azrael.”

“She’s tough, Lilith,” he told her. “Physical torture doesn’t seem to be unlocking her memories. Perhaps her loss of sight will do what bruises refuse to.”

Katana tried to sleep but couldn’t. Her abdomen was aching, the bruises and cuts reacting even to the thick moisture in the air. She was cold, soaked to the bone, and it felt like hours since she had eaten. One of her captors had taken her tray, still full of food, and left nothing in return. Now she wished she had eaten, though it would have most likely caused her to be sick.

She didn’t know how long it had been since she had lost light. All she knew was that she was sitting in complete darkness, bruised, tired, cold, and hungry. She started crying.

“Please…what did I do to deserve this?” she whispered in a broken voice. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

There was a light coming down the hallway, a stabbing pinpoint in the blackness. Katana gulped, wincing as the black-robed man with the studded gloves stepped into her cell.

“So you still don’t know what it was you did wrong, do you?” he asked. “Four days without food, in complete blackness, should have forced your mind to open, unlock what it refused to accept what you did a month ago.”

“What the **** are you talking about!?!” Katana yelled. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! I DON’T DESERVE TO BE IN HERE!”

The man pulled off his mask, and Katana screamed.
His face looked exactly a snow-white version of his mask. He had no nose or mouth, his white-blue eyes the only feature.

“Wh-what are you?!?” Katana exclaimed. “What the **** is going on!?!”

“Child, you know why you’re here.” His eyes narrowed, and though he made no sound, Katana knew he would have been smiling had he a mouth.

“No, I don’t know why I’m here!” she shouted, suddenly angry. She pulled against her shackles, her body writing in anger and pain.

“You mean you honestly don’t know?” the man said. “Strange…can’t you remember anything that happened a month ago? Haven’t you found out why your family hasn’t found you yet? This is your grandfather’s prison, after all.”

Katana’s eyes widened as her mind’s defenses crumbled away. In her mental vision, she recalled her sword blurring through the air, slicing into the skin of her family members. Rivers of blood flowed in front of her eyes, and the mounds of brains, intestines, kidneys, and lungs soon piled high into mountains. The screams of her grandfather, her mother, her aunts, uncles, and cousins, begging for mercy, fell upon deaf ears as her deadly sword delivered its strike, singing as it danced in the air, the blade a vampire that seemed to be insatiable as it drank deep the blood of her family.

“No…no…” Her eyes widened, and she retched. “I couldn’t have! It couldn’t have been me!”

The robed man stared at her, his eyes betraying nothing of his mind. “And now you know why you’re here, Katana Maeshalanadae. For the crimes of the murder of your family, you’ve been sentenced to life in this prison.” He laughed as he stepped out of her cell, relocking the door behind him, leaving behind only the darkness to hear Katana’s cries of forgiveness and witness her tears of contrition.

 

[Interference]

First thing, I haven't read the other crits, so I'll try not to be obvious about this -- sorry if I repeat anyone. Second, I'm not critting the second half just yet, time permitting I may come back to it. And the third thing is I like it so far Remember that

Katana awoke with a throbbing pain in the back of her head, and she was groggy and disoriented. She reached up with her left arm to apply pressure, only to find her wrists constrained by shackles, which were attached to the dank stone walls she was leaning against with chains.

Apply pressure to what and to what purpose. You have set a scene very pragmatically, not allowing the reader to endure the disorientation with your character. Consequently, her action isn't felt - it is shown but not explained. Allowing her inside her suffering would help us feel why she feels it necessary to "apply pressure" somewhere, otherwise it becomes merely a device to reveal the chains.

As she slowly regained her senses, she realized she was in trouble. yup. she would notice that The floor was covered in a slippery, slimy substance that would have caused her to fall had her arms not been shackled. Across the wall she was against she was able to make out the thick black iron bars of a dungeon cell. She noticed the room and hallway beyond were dimly lit by small torches hanging on the walls, the flickering light causing the darkness to dance around her.

More powerful perhaps would be the floor being slimy, slippy, rather than covered with a slimy substance which almost expects a fuller description of the substance and distract us from why it is a danger. If she could feel her feet slip under her as she tried to stand, then we would figure the rest - that even if she gets out of the shackles,escape won't be easy.

I think some of the most disturbing "awakening in a strange environment" scenes are those which disturb your character. So, while narrow bars are a fact, the disturbing aspect might be that she could have no chance getting through them. The torches flickering outside might show a draft coming from somewhere or even cast shadows of her jailers, which again puts the pressure on the character.

It was the smell of the room that disturbed her the most, however. The smells exuding from the walls and floor were dank and fermented. They smelled of dried, rotting blood. They smelled of stagnant water and pungent mold. They smelled of death.

I like where you're going with this, but I think you might be over-selling it a little. First, why limit the smells to just that room. Might there be other odours reaching her from outside the door, outside the window, all culminating in the scent of death? Also, this is a good time to show us that Katana knows what the smell of rotting blood is like.

It was only when she fully came to that she realized that the back of her head was not her only problem. The right side of her face felt sticky and dry, and she shuddered at the thought of what such a condition could have been caused by.

Again, just a little over-described. This could be much punchier as she discovers with a shudder how she has been treated in captivity.

She was also very cold, colder than she had ever been when she had been down in these dungeons. She looked down at her body in horror to discover that all but her underclothes were missing, her abdomen and ribs covered in shallow cuts and deep, dark bruises. She shook her shackles loudly.

Sorry, old man, but it's a show/tell conflict. I think she should discover these things and we deserve to know how they are hurting her emotionally and physically - telling us she's in horror at the removal of her undergarments doesn't let us inside her thinking processes, I'm afraid.

“HEY!” she screamed as loud as she could. “GET ME THE **** OUT OF HERE! I DON’T DESERVE TO BE IN HERE! I’M A MAESHALANADAE! GET ME OUT!”

Her shouts echoed throughout the dungeon, but went unanswered. She dropped her head and cried.

Take us deeper into this emotion and allow us to sink into unconsciousness with her

She didn’t know how long she was out. - not needed imo. one never knows how long one has been asleep, so I believe we can take it as read She awoke to the sound of the lock of her cell door clicking and the door creaking open.

“Who’s there!?!” she shouted. “Get me out of here!”

A large man wearing an ink-black robe with a deep hood stepped in. His hands were covered in thick, black leather gloves that contained silver studs on the fingers between the middle and bottom knuckles, and his face was covered by a smooth, shining mask the same shade as his robe; all except his eyes, which were a piercing, icy blue.

“Who the **** are you and why the **** am I in here!?!” Katana shrieked at him. “When my grandfather finds out what you did to me you’ll regret the day you were born!”

The masked man laughed, a hollow sound devoid of humor and with all the warmth of an iceberg. “Child, you have no idea why you’re in here, do you?” His voice was as hallow as his laugh, and lacked any resemblance to anything human.

“All I know is that when I get out of here and get my stuff back I’ll kill you and whoever else did this to me!”

The man pulled on his right glove slightly, stretching his fingers. “I doubt that, child,” he said to her. He slammed his fist into her abdomen, making her double over as far as her shackles would allow, causing her to cough and splutter.

“Be grateful you’re still alive, kid,” he whispered to her. “If I had my way, I would have killed you instantly for what you did.” He swung his fist at her head, connecting with her temple. Katana’s eyes rolled back in her head and her head slumped to the side. The man laughed once more and walked calmly out of her cell, the door latching and locking behind him.

There is a certain stageyness to the dialogue, but it serves its purpose well enough. This feels like the first draft of something that will become quite powerful, however right now it is like stage directions for a play (to continue a thought ) The set-up is strong and your central character is within an ace of gaining our full sympathies, the only looseness as far as I can see being in your own reticence to explore her emotional state more.

Of course, I like it otherwise I wouldn't be here , but I hope you will consider some of my suggestions as they are all made with respect for the effort you have already put into it and in the hopes of doing what little I can to help.

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

They'll be taken into consideration, but whether or not I'll continue or expand on Mental Break, I don't know. It was a college class assignment; I never intended it to really go past that point.


Then again, maybe I will. It's a favorite personal piece. (Of course, Katana is one of my favorite characters I've ever come up with-surely you other writers like some of your own characters better than others?)

 

[Interference]

Oh, well, if I'd known you never intended on finishing it ...

Yeah, I have at least three favourite characters and really feel bad about some of the things I put them through. I hope they don't hate me

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

I just hope Katana doesn't hate me for putting her in this mess, hehe.

 

[Interference]

I think she might be giving you a clue with “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! I DON’T DESERVE TO BE IN HERE!” line

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

Well, if it were acceptable, I'd post a bit of another story, but an underage girl getting caught making love to her boyfriend behind the fighter's guild hall.....


I think I've said too much.

 

[Interference]

Yeah, you definitely don't want the Guild Hall Supporters Club down on your neck

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

Or Katana's grandfather. It's hard to try to reason with a god.

 

[Interference]

Those rascally gods. First they claim omniscience and then they get all "What did you do that for?" on yo' a$$

 

[Karn Maeshalanadae]

Well....Morcalian gods AREN'T omniscient. They have limits-very strigent ones.

Otherwise, the planet would have been destroyed thousands of years before.