December88
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Nov 17, 2008
- Messages
- 68
Hello, tossing up a new and improved version of a chapter i had put up here sometime ago. If you guys/gals could skim over it and tell me how much u hate it i would be very grateful! Basically looking for comments on pace, generally writing quality and whether it hooked or failed. Thanks!
They planned to run away when it rained – their tracks would wash away and the hounds wouldn't be able to pick up their scents. After a mercilessly dry summer, the rain finally fell tonight.
Varrin watched the lightning and listened to the thunder, a pad and pencil in his lap, unsure of how to write his farewell letter. He cared only for two people in this world, and by night's end he knew that he'd have to let one go.
Just under the rumble of thunder he heard a low whistle, a whistle that most people would think was of their imagination, but one that Varrin knew and recognized all too well. He opened the window and leaned out into the wind and rain, peering into the darkness below, and then calling, “One! Two! Three!”
A hand reached up and Varrin grasped it. But his fingers slipped. “Hold on!” he hissed, managing to clasp a slender wrist and the knotted friendship band he had tied around it so long ago. “Alright again, One! Two! Three!”
He pulled, and Simariel came toppling in, drenched and cold, but laughing. “I thought you were going to let me fall!”
Varrin shut the window and turned to his friend, motioning for her to keep her voice down, but her smile infected him. “Don't be silly, if I did, then I wouldn't know which way to go!”
Simariel's smile broadened and giggling, she made a pass at Varrin's hair, attempting to dishevel it. He ducked low and came up more serious, “Will you at least tell me now?”
Simariel gazed at him for a moment, then stated simply, “Behind my house, where the wall is, there's a hole through which we can leave.”
“A hole? But how...”
“You'll see when we get there.” interrupted Simariel, then held Varrin in her warm and gaze, “I'm sorry that I didn't want to tell you before, it's just that the dogs and the searches, they scared me.”
Varrin understood of course; he'd seen the dogs from afar – the hounds – their spiked collars and their wolfish jowls. And their silent masters, tall men with masks over their faces who carried black batons and holstered pistols.
He changed the subject and picked up pad and pencil again, “What should I write?”
“That you love him and that you will miss him.”
Her words rang sincere, but still Varrin found it hard to explain such a deep betrayal in such few words. He readily forced his hand to write and Simariel gave him space, gliding to the window and staring out dreamily.
“It's beautiful there. There's a great valley and a lake of clear water in the middle, stretching out till it meets the sun.”
Varrin penned each word carefully, paying attention to detail and legibility – he wanted everything laid out clear and honest.
“The people there are different,” continued Simariel, putting her hand against the window and tracing the path of streaming raindrops “they're not like people here, they're like us.”
Varrin finished and checked each word carefully, then tore the paper from it's pad. It came off unevenly and he winced.
“Maybe he can come there one day.” said Simariel, taking the note from Varrin and folding it before pressing it back into his palm.
“Maybe. Let's go.”
They tip-toed down the hallway until they came upon the last door before the staircase. “I'll meet you downstairs.” whispered Varrin, and waited until Simariel hand descended past the landing before opening the door to his brother's room.
He kept his face strong as he came to stand by his brother's sleeping form. Everything seemed so peaceful; outside the thunder had gone and only the uneven tap of rain drops punctuated the silence. Gently Varrin took the note from his pocket and laid it beside his brother's pillow. He smiled sadly and left.
“The rain's almost stopped,” spoke Simariel as Varrin joined her at the front door, “it's just a drizzle now.” She held out her hand and Varrin took it. It was cold and he could feel her excitement.
“Let's hurry.”
They started out walking at first, and then skipping to avoid the puddles and then running to race their shadows. And as they exited the gate and started down the road, the light in Varrin's brother's room turned on.
Slipping out of his nightgown, Varrin's brother calmly began to change. He fastened his buttons and tightened his straps and took his cap from the top shelf. Then he sat down and opened the letter, picking up and pocketing the red and blue patterned band that fell its folds. He read the letter carefully then scanned it again until he heard the scraping of boots outside.
“Sir.” one of the men addressed him as he opened the front door and stepped into the cool night. He nodded in acknowledgment and came to stop by the many hounds that sat by their master's heels. He took the band from his pocket and tossed it to the the beasts, watching as they sniffed it, their mouths twisting into snarls and revealing rows of slick sand savage teeth.
With one hand he took a hold of a leash and with the other, he fastened a dark gas mask upon his face. “It's at the girl's house.”
Around him the silent night was ripped away and devoured by the baying of a hundred hungry hounds.
'The wall' Chapter one
They planned to run away when it rained – their tracks would wash away and the hounds wouldn't be able to pick up their scents. After a mercilessly dry summer, the rain finally fell tonight.
Varrin watched the lightning and listened to the thunder, a pad and pencil in his lap, unsure of how to write his farewell letter. He cared only for two people in this world, and by night's end he knew that he'd have to let one go.
Just under the rumble of thunder he heard a low whistle, a whistle that most people would think was of their imagination, but one that Varrin knew and recognized all too well. He opened the window and leaned out into the wind and rain, peering into the darkness below, and then calling, “One! Two! Three!”
A hand reached up and Varrin grasped it. But his fingers slipped. “Hold on!” he hissed, managing to clasp a slender wrist and the knotted friendship band he had tied around it so long ago. “Alright again, One! Two! Three!”
He pulled, and Simariel came toppling in, drenched and cold, but laughing. “I thought you were going to let me fall!”
Varrin shut the window and turned to his friend, motioning for her to keep her voice down, but her smile infected him. “Don't be silly, if I did, then I wouldn't know which way to go!”
Simariel's smile broadened and giggling, she made a pass at Varrin's hair, attempting to dishevel it. He ducked low and came up more serious, “Will you at least tell me now?”
Simariel gazed at him for a moment, then stated simply, “Behind my house, where the wall is, there's a hole through which we can leave.”
“A hole? But how...”
“You'll see when we get there.” interrupted Simariel, then held Varrin in her warm and gaze, “I'm sorry that I didn't want to tell you before, it's just that the dogs and the searches, they scared me.”
Varrin understood of course; he'd seen the dogs from afar – the hounds – their spiked collars and their wolfish jowls. And their silent masters, tall men with masks over their faces who carried black batons and holstered pistols.
He changed the subject and picked up pad and pencil again, “What should I write?”
“That you love him and that you will miss him.”
Her words rang sincere, but still Varrin found it hard to explain such a deep betrayal in such few words. He readily forced his hand to write and Simariel gave him space, gliding to the window and staring out dreamily.
“It's beautiful there. There's a great valley and a lake of clear water in the middle, stretching out till it meets the sun.”
Varrin penned each word carefully, paying attention to detail and legibility – he wanted everything laid out clear and honest.
“The people there are different,” continued Simariel, putting her hand against the window and tracing the path of streaming raindrops “they're not like people here, they're like us.”
Varrin finished and checked each word carefully, then tore the paper from it's pad. It came off unevenly and he winced.
“Maybe he can come there one day.” said Simariel, taking the note from Varrin and folding it before pressing it back into his palm.
“Maybe. Let's go.”
They tip-toed down the hallway until they came upon the last door before the staircase. “I'll meet you downstairs.” whispered Varrin, and waited until Simariel hand descended past the landing before opening the door to his brother's room.
He kept his face strong as he came to stand by his brother's sleeping form. Everything seemed so peaceful; outside the thunder had gone and only the uneven tap of rain drops punctuated the silence. Gently Varrin took the note from his pocket and laid it beside his brother's pillow. He smiled sadly and left.
“The rain's almost stopped,” spoke Simariel as Varrin joined her at the front door, “it's just a drizzle now.” She held out her hand and Varrin took it. It was cold and he could feel her excitement.
“Let's hurry.”
They started out walking at first, and then skipping to avoid the puddles and then running to race their shadows. And as they exited the gate and started down the road, the light in Varrin's brother's room turned on.
Slipping out of his nightgown, Varrin's brother calmly began to change. He fastened his buttons and tightened his straps and took his cap from the top shelf. Then he sat down and opened the letter, picking up and pocketing the red and blue patterned band that fell its folds. He read the letter carefully then scanned it again until he heard the scraping of boots outside.
“Sir.” one of the men addressed him as he opened the front door and stepped into the cool night. He nodded in acknowledgment and came to stop by the many hounds that sat by their master's heels. He took the band from his pocket and tossed it to the the beasts, watching as they sniffed it, their mouths twisting into snarls and revealing rows of slick sand savage teeth.
With one hand he took a hold of a leash and with the other, he fastened a dark gas mask upon his face. “It's at the girl's house.”
Around him the silent night was ripped away and devoured by the baying of a hundred hungry hounds.
