Hi all,
I've just started writing my book - well I've managed to pull all the ideas together at least! I've done about 30,000 words so far and am posting it up on my web site in stages every week. I would be interested in any feedback you can give as this is my first serious writing effort
PS. I'm rubbish at similes - are they really necessary?!
Anyway, here is the first 1,000ish words of the prologue (which is nearly 3,000 words so didn't want to put the whole thing up all at once!)
(To be continued)
I've just started writing my book - well I've managed to pull all the ideas together at least! I've done about 30,000 words so far and am posting it up on my web site in stages every week. I would be interested in any feedback you can give as this is my first serious writing effort
PS. I'm rubbish at similes - are they really necessary?!
Anyway, here is the first 1,000ish words of the prologue (which is nearly 3,000 words so didn't want to put the whole thing up all at once!)
Prologue: Part 1
The staccato bursts of the girl's rifle firing up the staircase faded as the Hunter ran silently out of the old building. It took all his willpower to resist the urge to look back, to stay and help the girl. He knew she was good enough not to let the horror of the sudden and quite unexpected destruction of their tight-knit little unit get in the way of finishing the job they had started. She would keep the ******* pinned down and distracted for a while. Long enough for him to find another route up there.
It was fortunate that the foreman's house appeared to be entirely held together by ivy, thick twisted trunks curling up the wall, roots growing into the brickwork giving the building the appearance of a big mutant plant. Although it was almost pitch dark here in the forest, the Augmented Reality glasses made everything clear as day as they scanned the outside of the building and presented him with a quick and easy route to the window on the first floor, the one furthest away from the staircase. He made short work of clambering up the plant, hoping that the noise of the shooting was enough to mask the sound of his ascent.
No time to worry about that now son, just stay alert, stay focused. The echo of the old man's voice seemed to cut through his thoughts. The Hunter tried to ignore it, just a remnant of an old friend long gone. He was desperate to avoid coherent thought and thus transmitting his true intentions to the combatants inside
They had been forced to switch to sign language when he had realised what had been going on.
He must be listening in on the Neuros!
What? How? The girl's eyes had been wide.
I don't know, but we need a different approach.
What do you want to do? He's pretty well dug in up there.
I don't know.... Need a distraction. Think you can hold him?
Sure thing! I'll keep him busy! She had been frightened, her hands almost shaking too much to do the signing although the sentiment was ripe with bravado. He had seen the darkness descending around her and he'd left her there, alone.
It usually wasn't a problem to distract himself - coherent thoughts were normally more of an issue - but with the adrenaline of the last few days coursing through him all he could think about was the look on the man's face when they had met for the first time on the train a couple of weeks ago. The sneer as the murderer had leapt backwards out of the car and rolled away into the bushes. That was the closest they had ever been, until now.
Balan. The Hunter felt the bile rise in his throat as he thought the name. Nari had come up with it. The demon of finesse and ruses. Also a prince of hell and this ******* was certainly living up to the description. They had finally learned his real name once the Hunter had downloaded his image off the glasses into Unicorn's systems, but it was too late to adjust their thinking by then. The name stayed.
The press had called him The Invisible Killer. This year's big thing, leaving behind a trail of bodies with no evidence, no DNA. Twelve bodies to be exact, twelve that they knew about, anyway. Fourteen now, the Hunter thought and felt the pressure begin to build behind his eyes.
He shook his head. Little lights were appearing in his peripheral vision, pulsing in time with the blood pumping round his head, like he could see his heart beating. Music: Stars, he thought and a gentle staccatto melody began to feed through his earbuds. With each note a white dot was extinguished and soon he was able to concentrate on the task in hand.
He crept through the window as quickly and quietly as he could, the Neuros silent now, lest Balan was still listening in. The glasses were feeding him constant information about the place, ambient temperature, structural stability, IR readings. Of course there were no readings from Balan himself. Somehow the ******* had managed to throw the system off so it was impossible to see him on the infra-red. When he scanned the room, the glasses highlighted potential obstacles and showing him the optimal path through them. He felt his muscles tense and tried to relax, to concentrate his mind so that when he finally caught up with the man there would be no mistakes. He would be on top of things this time.
But when he saw what was lying there waiting for him, he felt his heart leap into his throat and a wave of nausea caused him to double up, throwing a hand out to steady himself against the nearby wall. The body of a young woman lay discarded on the floor, across a rotting old mattress. Her limbs were twisted awkwardly, beautiful face scratched and bruised. Still bleeding, he noticed, reaching out to place his fingers on her neck. She had no pulse, but her soft pale skin was warm. A recent kill, then.
Of course the scanner had already told him this and in much more disturbing detail than necessary, but the Hunter had always felt there was no substitute for real touch, real feelings. It was part of his need to remain in touch with reality at all costs. Looking at the broken body, his eyes filled with tears and his vision tunnelled until all he could see were shadows and death, dark winged daemons spiralling around her battered face. They had only just found each other and now she was gone. They were all gone.
They were all dead now.
The staccato bursts of the girl's rifle firing up the staircase faded as the Hunter ran silently out of the old building. It took all his willpower to resist the urge to look back, to stay and help the girl. He knew she was good enough not to let the horror of the sudden and quite unexpected destruction of their tight-knit little unit get in the way of finishing the job they had started. She would keep the ******* pinned down and distracted for a while. Long enough for him to find another route up there.
It was fortunate that the foreman's house appeared to be entirely held together by ivy, thick twisted trunks curling up the wall, roots growing into the brickwork giving the building the appearance of a big mutant plant. Although it was almost pitch dark here in the forest, the Augmented Reality glasses made everything clear as day as they scanned the outside of the building and presented him with a quick and easy route to the window on the first floor, the one furthest away from the staircase. He made short work of clambering up the plant, hoping that the noise of the shooting was enough to mask the sound of his ascent.
No time to worry about that now son, just stay alert, stay focused. The echo of the old man's voice seemed to cut through his thoughts. The Hunter tried to ignore it, just a remnant of an old friend long gone. He was desperate to avoid coherent thought and thus transmitting his true intentions to the combatants inside
They had been forced to switch to sign language when he had realised what had been going on.
He must be listening in on the Neuros!
What? How? The girl's eyes had been wide.
I don't know, but we need a different approach.
What do you want to do? He's pretty well dug in up there.
I don't know.... Need a distraction. Think you can hold him?
Sure thing! I'll keep him busy! She had been frightened, her hands almost shaking too much to do the signing although the sentiment was ripe with bravado. He had seen the darkness descending around her and he'd left her there, alone.
It usually wasn't a problem to distract himself - coherent thoughts were normally more of an issue - but with the adrenaline of the last few days coursing through him all he could think about was the look on the man's face when they had met for the first time on the train a couple of weeks ago. The sneer as the murderer had leapt backwards out of the car and rolled away into the bushes. That was the closest they had ever been, until now.
Balan. The Hunter felt the bile rise in his throat as he thought the name. Nari had come up with it. The demon of finesse and ruses. Also a prince of hell and this ******* was certainly living up to the description. They had finally learned his real name once the Hunter had downloaded his image off the glasses into Unicorn's systems, but it was too late to adjust their thinking by then. The name stayed.
The press had called him The Invisible Killer. This year's big thing, leaving behind a trail of bodies with no evidence, no DNA. Twelve bodies to be exact, twelve that they knew about, anyway. Fourteen now, the Hunter thought and felt the pressure begin to build behind his eyes.
He shook his head. Little lights were appearing in his peripheral vision, pulsing in time with the blood pumping round his head, like he could see his heart beating. Music: Stars, he thought and a gentle staccatto melody began to feed through his earbuds. With each note a white dot was extinguished and soon he was able to concentrate on the task in hand.
He crept through the window as quickly and quietly as he could, the Neuros silent now, lest Balan was still listening in. The glasses were feeding him constant information about the place, ambient temperature, structural stability, IR readings. Of course there were no readings from Balan himself. Somehow the ******* had managed to throw the system off so it was impossible to see him on the infra-red. When he scanned the room, the glasses highlighted potential obstacles and showing him the optimal path through them. He felt his muscles tense and tried to relax, to concentrate his mind so that when he finally caught up with the man there would be no mistakes. He would be on top of things this time.
But when he saw what was lying there waiting for him, he felt his heart leap into his throat and a wave of nausea caused him to double up, throwing a hand out to steady himself against the nearby wall. The body of a young woman lay discarded on the floor, across a rotting old mattress. Her limbs were twisted awkwardly, beautiful face scratched and bruised. Still bleeding, he noticed, reaching out to place his fingers on her neck. She had no pulse, but her soft pale skin was warm. A recent kill, then.
Of course the scanner had already told him this and in much more disturbing detail than necessary, but the Hunter had always felt there was no substitute for real touch, real feelings. It was part of his need to remain in touch with reality at all costs. Looking at the broken body, his eyes filled with tears and his vision tunnelled until all he could see were shadows and death, dark winged daemons spiralling around her battered face. They had only just found each other and now she was gone. They were all gone.
They were all dead now.
(To be continued)
That's a lot of good stuff Peter pointed out there, but I thought I'd add a few observations of my own. Like Peter, I think your writing is pretty solid, and mostly draws me in very well. You do have a few sentences I think could be simplified to improve the flow.