A prologue The Stalking Terror

[darkpowers]

This is the first time I've done this, so I hope I've done it right. Anyway, here's a plogue for the novel I've co-written. All constructive feedback welcome.​

Prologue: The Stalking Terror​

Wednesday August 26, 2009. 11.00pm.​

Rose Heyworth, gasping, almost breathless with fear, dared not look behind. She knew the swift moving sinister presence in the crow black darkness was still chasing her, relentless in its pursuit. For Rose, a short cut home had become a journey into the twin realms of terror and mystery.​

If only the damn bus had turned up. Driver swanned off back to the depot early, I expect. I would have given him a couple of chips to drop me off by the house!​

The thing was catching up with her.​

This is mad! It can't be happening!​

Earlier, when the night was still sane, she had been standing at the bus stop opposite the rugby club with a bag of chips in her hand, and reflecting on her regular Wednesday evening bingo at the Workingmens' Club. It was her one and only night to herself during the week. Her husband was on nights at the foil factory and the kids were at her mother's, so she enjoyed herself, win or lose. She had been so close to the big win this week, but Debbie Hill was the lucky one – again.​

With a no show bus and little money left after indulging in the chips, her only option was to walk, something which concerned her as the street lights in town were due to be turned out as part of a new council plan to save their expense accounts. ​

She walked up the first part the steep winding road leading up from town. The route was notorious for the sharp bend about a third of the way up, which had claimed many a foolish speeding driver down the years. As she reached the row of houses on the sharp bend, a car went by. It was black, sleek and glided by her, making hardly any sound.​

That's a bit flash for around here. Could have given me lift up the hill, you stingy git!​

She opted for the handy short cut up Church Lane, which led off from the end of the houses. She knew the way well; she'd walked it many times in her 40 years. Her pocket torch lit the way along the part stone, part mud pathway until the batteries ran out some five minutes later.​

'Damn!' She muttered, shaking the torch with a vengeance. She pressed on through the darkness, confident she could find her way. To her left she could hear the brook babbling and flowing, which meant the short wooden footbridge over the water was less than a minute away.​

An owl hooted nearby, startling her.​

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark and she could just make out the dim outline of the footbridge. Beyond that, the path was in the open, right up to the Pwca Arms pub next to St Garn's church.​

It was then she first heard the strange metallic scraping and thudding type noises behind her. She ignored the sounds at first, but decided to quicken her pace.​

The eerie sounds got louder and nearer. Her pace quickened further and she broke into a run with the thing in close pursuit, lunging for her in the darkness.​

She tore across the bridge, relieved to see her final escape route. Then she tripped over a stone and fell onto the damp grass. Gasping, she propped herself up, awaiting the arrival of her pursuer. ​

But there was nothing.​

The scraping and thudding noises had stopped.​

She looked back towards the bridge, now feeling more angry than afraid.​

'Come on!' she challenged. 'Get out here and face me, you coward!'​

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light. Hovering over the trees was a glowing disc shaped object. ​

Rose stared, open mouthed in disbelief as the disc hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. Behind her, a lumbering shadowy shape emerged from and clumped across the footbridge, stopping some ten yards from her.​

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light Hovering over the trees was a glowing disc shaped object. She stared in open mouthed disbelief as the thing hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. ​

Rose stopped, staring in open mouthed disbelief as the disc hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. Behind her, the lumbering shadowy form of her pursuer emerged and clumped across the footbridge, stopping some ten yards from her. Bathed in the light from the hovering object, she at last saw her pursuer in full. It was tall and clad in a silver-grey metallic suit. It had no face, just a black, blank square of nothing on the front of the helmet. There was a shimmering glow of golden light around the being and a dry ice like mist rose from it. ​

It stood there, watching the bewildered mother of two, making a deep sinister breathing sound.​

Rose decided against waiting around any longer. Finding a new burst of energy, she got to her feet and ran, almost clearing the stile by the pub with a single leap. She tore across the road and up past the church, church hall, community centre and the run down row of shops, not stopping until she slammed her front door shut behind her. ​

The house was silent and dark. Something brushed against her legs. She stifled a scream, realising it was Holly, her six month-old cat.​

A sleepless night of fear followed. Rose lay on her bed, not even daring to put a light on. Around 1a.m twin beams of light shone through a gap in the curtains and hit her eyes. She panicked and dived under the quilt. ​

It was just the headlights of a car sweeping down the road.​

She got out of bed and peeped out, over the houses and saw just the inky blackness of the night. Whatever had chased her had vanished back into the night. ​

As dawn broke she eventually fell into a deep, but troubled sleep.​

 

[chrispenycate]

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light. Hovering over the trees was a glowing disc shaped object.
Rose stared, open mouthed in disbelief as the disc hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. Behind her, a lumbering shadowy shape emerged from and clumped across the footbridge, stopping some ten yards from her.

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light Hovering over the trees was a glowing disc shaped object. She stared in open mouthed disbelief as the thing hung there, making a low humming and whining sound.

Rose stopped, staring in open mouthed disbelief as the disc hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. Behind her, the lumbering shadowy form of her pursuer emerged and clumped across the footbridge, stopping some ten yards from her. Bathed in the light from the hovering object, she at last saw her pursuer in full. It was tall and clad in a silver-grey metallic suit. It had no face, just a black, blank square of nothing on the front of the helmet. There was a shimmering glow of golden light around the being and a dry ice like mist rose from it.

Unless you are trying to convey some novel time-slicing experience, this is not merely repetition, it's two and a half separate draughts that you haven't yet decided on. Naughty.

almost clearing the stile by the pub with a single leap.

Almost clearing a stile sounds awfully painful (as does not stopping running until you've closed the door behind you, unless you'd planned for this and left the door wide open when leaving for bingo)

She ignored the sounds at first, but decided to quicken her pace.

So she didn't quite ignore them, did she?

something which concerned her as the street lights in town were due to be turned out as part of a new council plan to save their expense accounts.

She walked up the first part the steep winding road leading up from town.

I really like the first sentence's tongue in cheek view of local authorities, and don't you think an "of" between "first part" and "the steep, winding road" would help comprehension (and the comma wouldn't hurt)

She had been so close to the big win this week, but Debbie Hill was the lucky one – again.

Pedantically, it should be "had been the lucky one".

 

[darkpowers]

Unless you are trying to convey some novel time-slicing experience, this is not merely repetition, it's two and a half separate draughts that you haven't yet decided on. Naughty.

Almost clearing a stile sounds awfully painful (as does not stopping running until you've closed the door behind you, unless you'd planned for this and left the door wide open when leaving for bingo)

So she didn't quite ignore them, did she?

I really like the first sentence's tongue in cheek view of local authorities, and don't you think an "of" between "first part" and "the steep, winding road" would help comprehension (and the comma wouldn't hurt)


Pedantically, it should be "had been the lucky one".

Thank you for those observations. I shall now put those errors right. The repetition was accidental and I am now kicking myself for not spotting it earlier.

 

[finric]

I think this prologue is quite good and sets the scene for what's to come. Ok, so there were a few grammaticals, but we've all done that. Sometimes fresh eyes are good. I'd like to read more.

 

[Bontemps]

I liked the immediacy of it, a good fast pace that kept me reading. I thought the action raced along at a good pace.

I also stopped and re-read when I came up on the repeated part of the story, but assumed it was a cut and paste problem.

One thing that did get me, was the jump in time.
I know you went to the exciting bit to start with a bang at the beginning (I thought that was excellent), but I thought there would be an indicator when the past caught up with the present (I re-read it but can't find one), a kind of short sentence to announce that we are back in the present.

I'm not sure I'm describing this clearly, but you start in the middle, then rewind to the beginning of the evening and run through to the end. I guess, I was looking for a marker when the past caught up with the present and then continued on.
Something like, 'and so, now Rose found herself fleeing for her life' (not that but you know what I mean), or something to indicate and refer back to the opening. This might have been just me though.

Would definitely look forward to more though

 

[Michael01]

Don't kick yourself too hard, because it's only natural to miss things when editing - especially when it's your own work.

Chrispenycate's insights are priceless, though, and not just because they're so accurate. I often laugh when I read anything he's posted, which I think might be the point. I wouldn't have had any idea a what a "stiles" is and would have skipped it, and I surely wouldn't have noticed the "running until the door was closed behind her."

Well, I'm going to do what we call a Line by Line crit and see if I can provide anything that's actually helpful in some way...

Rose Heyworth, gasping, almost breathless with fear, dared not look behind. She knew the swift moving sinister presence in the crow black darkness was still chasing her, relentless in its pursuit. For Rose, a short cut home had become a journey into the twin realms of terror and mystery.

Except for the part in red, this first sentence isn't a bad start. She's "gasping" and "breathless," which is fairly descriptive. Although both words could mean very similar things and thus a tad repetitious ... hmm. I'll defer to the style experts on this point. But personally, it doesn't look like a bad start to me.

However, you end the sentence with "dared not to look." Again, I actually like it but, unfortunately, this is one of those phrases of which you need to be careful using in the beginning of your story. If your intent is to publish, agents/editors might consider it a "short-hand description."

I'm only going on research I've done and questions I've asked of more experienced writers, however, so I could be mistaken. Not to mention that, while you should seriously consider any suggestions your critters might make, you still will need to use your own judgment in the end.

But, from the same research, you might also be falling into the trap of creating false suspense, since your protagonist is running away from some "thing" that remains unidentified for more than a paragraph.

"Crow black darkness" might be too many descriptors, and you might want to simplify it. As far as "its," I don't think there's anything wrong with your usage, I just marked it as something for which you might want to watch - that is, how often you use the word "it" in your narrative.

Again, I personally have no problem with "twin realms of terror and mystery." I like the way you've used these words, but other readers might consider it a little "purple." Now, since I'm guilty of being very purple sometimes, it doesn't really seem too extravagant to me.

If only the damn bus had turned up. Driver swanned off back to the depot early, I expect. I would have given him a couple of chips to drop me off by the house!

​

Nice.​

The thing was catching up with her.

​

As I have discovered recently, with the help of my friends here at Chronicles, this phrase isn't techinally passive, but it can have the same effect - slowing down the narrative. This might be exactly what you want to do, but you'll want to watch how often you do it and make sure that's what you want when you do.​

QUOTE: This is mad! It can't be happening! (This one refuses to work correctly, no matter how many times I checked the code, so I hope this will suffice)

Here's another phrase (a variation of "This can't be happening!") you might want to be very careful about using in the opening of a story.​

And the following paragraph begins a flashback, which is a very useful tool in fiction, but might be out of place at the very beginning. Besides, I find the transition back to the present later to be a bit unclear.​

Earlier, when the night was still sane, she had been standing at the bus stop opposite the rugby club with a bag of chips in her hand, and reflecting on her regular Wednesday evening bingo at the Workingmens' Club. It was her one and only night to herself during the week. Her husband was on nights at the foil factory and the kids were at her mother's, so she enjoyed herself, win or lose. She had been so close to the big win this week, but Debbie Hill had been the lucky one – again.

​

A little more "telling" and not much "showing" here, but it's quick and to the point - so it might be all right. You'll just want to remember to keep "telling" to a minimum, especially in the opening, and try to use more descriptive language as often as possible. Make it more visual somehow, like you do in the first sentence; you didn't just tell us she was afraid, you said she was "breathless."​

With a no show bus and little money left after indulging in the chips, her only option was to walk, something which concerned her as the street lights in town were due to be turned out as part of a new council plan to save their expense accounts.

I agree with Chris. Nice touch! Although, again it's still a bit "telling."

She walked up the first part the steep winding road leading up from town. The route was notorious for the sharp bend about a third of the way up, which had claimed many a foolish speeding driver down the years. As she reached the row of houses on the sharp bend, a car went by. It was black, sleek and glided by her, making hardly any sound.

​

"Steep, winding road" and "black, sleek and glided by" are nice and descriptive. Good!​

Again, I only marked "it" as a reminder. You haven't used it too often, so you should be fine - but it's especially noticeable at the beginning of a sentence.​

She opted for the handy short cut up Church Lane, which led off from the end of the houses. She knew the way well; she'd walked it many times in her 40 years. Her pocket torch lit the way along the part stone, part mud pathway until the batteries ran out some five minutes later.

'Damn!' She muttered, shaking the torch with a vengeance. She pressed on through the darkness, confident she could find her way. To her left she heard the brook babbling and flowing, which meant the short wooden footbridge over the water was less than a minute away.​

An owl hooted nearby, startling her.​

While there's more telling here, you also have some nice descriptions. "With a vengeance" doesn't quite work for me, although I can't put my finger on why. It could be that there's a more descriptive way to write it, since I couldn't really say what "shaking with a vengeance" looks like. But it might also be acceptable anyway, at least occasionally. I must defer again ... anyone?​

Same with the hooting owl ... I'll defer to more experienced critters, although it strikes me as cliche. I see what you're trying to do, but you might want to find another way to do it ... maybe... ​

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark and she could just make out the dim outline of the footbridge. Beyond that, the path was in the open, right up to the Pwca Arms pub next to St Garn's church.

​

It was then she first heard the strange metallic scraping and thudding type noises behind her. She quickened her pace.​

"Were still adjusting": same as "was catching up."​

The "it" stands out even more now, followed by "was then," and seems a little awkward to me, but still might be okay. I'm so wishy-washy sometimes... ​

I changed that last sentence to reflect Chrispenycate's earlier point, but the way I did it might not suit your purposes. I only mention it because I changed it, though. I swear I'm not trying to beat it into you.​

The eerie sounds got louder and nearer. Her pace quickened further and she broke into a run with the thing in close pursuit, lunging for her in the darkness.

​

You've used "quickened" twice fairly close together. This could be fine, but you still might want to think about it. And here we still have this thing that you still haven't identified, although we're well into the opening by now.​

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light.

​

Now this is passive. Nothing wrong with passive voice, per se, but remember that it has the effect of slowing down your narrative - which you'll probably want to do as little as possible. But it can be useful at times.​

I really don't see much more on which to comment. And, actually, I personally didn't notice any glaring grammatical problems. It's well written, pretty much. It even looks like you've taken care to vary your sentence structure. You've got a very good start, and what seems to be an interesting premise - although it didn't quite grab me. Since it has elements that interest me and otherwise looks promising, I think I'd keep reading.​

EDIT: Whew! You two snuck in on me... (Haha!)​

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

This is the first time I've done this, so I hope I've done it right. Anyway, here's a plogue for the novel I've co-written. All constructive feedback welcome.​

Prologue: The Stalking Terror​

Wednesday August 26, 2009. 11.00pm.​

Rose Heyworth, gasping, almost breathless with fear, dared not look behind. She knew the swift moving sinister presence in the crow black darkness was still chasing her, relentless in its pursuit. For Rose, a short cut home had become a journey into the twin realms of terror and mystery.(IMO there's a little too much verbage here eg. 'swift moving' detracts from the 'sinister presence' - sinister presence is less defined the swiftly moving explains and limits how sinister the presence is. Also mystery doesn't quite fit here it may become mysterious but she can't know that now, at the moment it's just terrifying. Only if she doesn't end up in a ditch will there be a chance for mystery panic and terror maybe)​

If only the damn bus had turned up. Driver swanned off back to the depot early, I expect. I would have given him a couple of chips (fed him a couple of chips - unless you intend only to publish outside Las Vegas) to drop me off by the house!​

The thing was catching up with her. (the thing was gaining on her maybe)​

This is mad! It can't be happening! (How can this be happening? maybe)​

Earlier, when the night was still sane, (nice) she had been standing at the bus stop opposite the rugby club with a bag of chips in her hand, and (never keen on ,and) reflecting on her regular Wednesday evening bingo at the Working Men's Club. It was her one and only night to herself during the week. Her husband was on nights at the foil (foil?) factory and the kids were at her mother's, so she enjoyed herself, win or lose. She had been so close to the big win this week, but Debbie Hill was the lucky one – again.​

With a no show bus and little money left after indulging in the chips, (this implies taxi=fish-and-chips - I doubt it. Try the delay in the chip shop had caused her to wait for the no show last bus and now her only option...mmm maybe not) her only option was to walk, something which concerned her as the street lights in town were due to be turned out as part of a new council plan to save their expense accounts. ​

She walked up the first part the steep winding road leading up from town. The route was notorious for the sharp bend about a third of the way up, which had claimed many a foolish speeding driver down the years. As she reached the row of houses on the sharp bend, a car went by. It was black, sleek and glided by her, making hardly any sound.​

That's a bit flash for around here. Could have given me lift up the hill, you stingy git! (- Er given the topic, would she have accepted - strange car, lonely road - "Get in luv I'll givee a lift")​

She opted for the handy short cut up Church Lane, which led off from the end of the houses. She knew the way well; she'd walked it many times in her 40 years. Her pocket torch lit the way along the part stone, part mud pathway until the batteries ran out some five minutes later.​

'Damn!' She muttered, shaking the torch with a vengeance. She pressed on through the darkness, confident she could find her way. To her left she could hear the brook babbling and flowing, which meant the short wooden footbridge over the water was less than a minute away.​

An owl hooted nearby, startling her.​

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark and she could just make out the dim outline of the footbridge. Beyond that, the path was in the open, right up to the Pwca (?) Arms pub next to St Garn's church.​

It was then she first heard the strange metallic scraping and thudding type noises behind her. She ignored the sounds at first, but decided to quicken her pace.(As Chris said she didn't ignore them the way it's written a but soon might work)​

The eerie sounds got became louder and nearer. Her pace quickened further and she finally broke into a run with the thing in close pursuit, lunging for her in the darkness.​

She tore across the bridge, relieved to see her final escape route. Then she tripped over a stone and fell onto the damp grass. (she would trip onto the path she's running her momentum would carry her forwards not sideways) Gasping, she propped herself up, awaiting the arrival of her pursuer. (not quite right - if it had been lunging at her before then it must have been within reach. Things don't lunge from twenty feet away when there's no hope of success)​

But there was nothing.​

The scraping and thudding noises had stopped.​

She looked back towards the bridge, now feeling more angry than afraid.​

'Come on!' she challenged. 'Get out here and face me, you coward!' (she need to stand up to issue a challenge like that)​

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light. Hovering over the trees was a glowing disc shaped object. ​

Rose stared, open mouthed in disbelief as the disc hung there, making a low humming and whining sound ( a bit cliche). Behind her, a lumbering shadowy shape emerged from and clumped across the footbridge, stopping some ten yards from her.​

From above, she was bathed by a sudden burst of light Hovering over the trees was a glowing disc shaped object. She stared in open mouthed disbelief as the thing hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. ​

Rose stopped, staring in open mouthed disbelief (cliche again and repetitious - gobsmacked - why not) as the disc hung there, making a low humming and whining sound. (repetitious above) Behind her, the lumbering shadowy form of her pursuer emerged and clumped across the footbridge, stopping some ten yards from her. Bathed in the light from the hovering object, she at last saw her pursuer in full. It was tall and clad in a silver-grey metallic suit (silver somehow doesn't fit in with the dark pursuer the reader has been picturing in his mind). It had no face, just a black, blank square of nothing on the front of the helmet. There was a shimmering glow of golden light around the being and a dry-ice like mist rose from it. ​

(again, a glowing doesn't work with the darkened chase)

It stood there, watching the bewildered mother of two, making a deep sinister breathing sound.​

Rose decided against waiting around any longer. Finding a new burst of energy, she got to her feet and ran, almost clearing (as a previous person mentioned almost means catching her foot and falling on her face) the stile by the pub with a single leap. She tore across the road and up past the church, church hall, community centre (which one) and the run down row of shops, not stopping until she slammed her front door shut behind her. (yep - Chris mentioned this)​

The house was silent and dark. Something brushed against her legs. She stifled a scream, realising it was Holly, her kitten. six month-old cat.​

A sleepless night of fear followed. Rose lay on her bed, not even daring to put a light on. Around 1a.m twin beams of light shone through a gap in the curtains and hit her eyes. She panicked and dived under the quilt. ​

It was just the headlights of a car sweeping down the road.​

She got out of bed and peeped out, over the houses and saw just the inky blackness of the night. Whatever had chased her had vanished back into the night. ​

As dawn broke she eventually fell into a deep, but troubled sleep.​

OK - It certainly has pace and promise. However, it doesn't seem to be a prologue to me yet. It's more like an opening chapter. Still It depends on what happens next I suppose.

Hope I helped.

TEiN

 

[darkpowers]

Thank you, all, for your helpful and practical advice. I can now see where redundant wordage needs to be cut or changed to improve the flow and pace of the piece. The logical and precise nature of Chrispenycate's comments have been especially helpful. It's so easy to get lost in the flow of writing, and it's good to have some fresh eyes upon it.

Yes, it is more of an opening chapter. The woman who gets chased is not a main character, but in a later chapter, she reports her experience to the local newspaper, where an old schoolfriend of her works as a reporter. Maybe she can relate some of the background details to him?

 

[darkpowers]

Pwca is a Welsh word meaning mischeivious spirit or imp. The story is set in South Wales and will tap into Celtic mythology. More to follow soon.