Fantasy-Faction
Fantasy-Faction Overlord
- Joined
- Nov 30, 2010
- Messages
- 15
Hey guys and girls of sff!
I got told off a while ago for posting a critique a bit too early but I'm hoping I have been here long enough now to ask for you help
I'm relatively new to writing... I have been writing on and off for two years. This is the first chapter of a story I am working on (up to chapter 6 - but I won't post too much up to start with). Thanks in advance anyone willing to lend me their time and efforts with reading through this
Safa
”Dinners ready!” called Safa's mother.
Safa looked up from his wooden desk and smiled. Today was a day Safa had been looking forward to. Once a week his mother would make a huge dinner and today was that day. The average meal after a hard day out on the farm would be an unsatisfying broth of various vegetables. It would barely fill his belly.
Although Safa’s parents owned a farm, they were relatively poor. They had struggled to feed themselves with what they grew, let alone have any leftover worth selling. With the harsh climate of Turbia, very little grew and it was very difficult to keep the animals well fed. They tended to die either of the heat, the lack of good food or both. Safa hated seeing the animals die... one of the jobs his father entrusted to him was to feed them and he enjoyed watching them grow.
“Safa… Hurry up! It’ll get cold!” Safa decided to take the risk and quickly filled in the Cat’s nose with the black crayon before quickly sliding off his timber chair and charging towards his bedroom door. The aroma hit him as he pulled it open, his mouth filled with saliva, begging him to fill it with the delicious food that lay on the table before him.
“If you stand their staring any longer your Dad will take the opportunity and have yours, you do know that?” teased his mother.
Looking across the table he saw his mother and father awaiting his company to begin their meal. He laughed, but hurried along to the table not wanting to take the chance of missing out. He jumped up onto his chair and took a moment to admire the food on his plate; crisp potatoes dripped with golden butter, the peas were green and the most plump you could pick, the carrots were steamed so soft your fork slid straight through them. And finally, his favourite: chicken, white, succulent meat taken from the healthiest chicken in the coup. He fought the urge to thrust his fork into the chicken and shovel it into his mouth just long enough to look up at his mother.
”Thanks Mum, this is for the hundredth week in a row the best looking meal I have ever seen!”
His mother laughed, “I am glad you approve”
Smiling, she looked over at her husband.
“Remember though Safa, who provides the ingredients...”
“God..? Asked Safa?”
His mother laughed.
“I was actually reffering to your father! He works hard out on that farm to provide for us” she winked at her husband, who smiled back and turned to face Safa.
”I am just sorry I can’t give you more Safa” he said apologetically “I wish I could spare enough meat and vegetables for your mother to make us meals like this every. But don’t worry, when you get a little older, I am sure you will be able to eat whenever and whatever you like. When you are my age, you’ll own your own farm, much bigger than mine. I am sure of it.” With that the farmer reached over and ruffled his son’s hair.
Suddenly a loud crash was audible. It came from outside. Jumping from his seat, his father ran towards the window. He slowly peeled back the curtain and peered outside. He took a few steps back, obviously in shock. He slowly turned to look at his wife, his eyes wide with fear.
“What! What is it?” asked Safa his voice trembling.
Ignoring his son the farmer cried out to his wife; “Yuki, take Safa and hide... quickly”
”What is it?” she cried
“Just do it! Now!” he answered with urgency.
Quickly she grabbed Safa’s hand, pulling him towards the door. She pulled him so forcefully he felt his arm may be pulled from his shoulder. As they reached the back door he looked over at his father who was dismounting a large axe from the rack beside the fireplace... he caught Safa’s gaze.
“Run!” He demanded before ripping open the door and throwing himself out into the fields.
Yuki pulled her son through the back door. Looking across the field from his current position Safa could see nothing. It was all just green fields and animals... Suddenly though something could be seen making its way through the air. It was black, about the size of a kicking ball and... it had eyes. Safa let out a yelp as he realised what it was... it was the head of a sheep. It hit the ground about 10 feet in-front of him with a ‘squelch’. It bounced towards him and from the way it landed Safa could see quite clearly that it had been ripped from its torso. The neck bone, spine or whatever it was called remained attached. It was a sickening sight and Safa began to cry.
“Safa, Come On!” pleaded his mother. She dragged him towards the chicken coup. It was a small, wooden building that housed around 30 chickens. There was no way it could hold two people.
As they reached the coup his mother gripped his shoulders and spun him around to face her. She knelt down and looked directly into his eyes. He had never seen anyone so frightened; his mothers face was ghostly white and her eyes were wide.
Her voice was broken and trembling as she ordered Safa; “Don’t come out Safa, no matter what you hear, me or your father will come and get you. Do not come out before then!”
She kissed her son on the forehead and said quietly “I love you” before pulling open the chicken coup door and pushing her son inside. Safa took a step backwards and fell over something. He tried to get up, but before he could he heard the latch slide across the door. His mother was gone.
Safa placed his hand within inches of his face and saw absolutely nothing. It was literally pitch black in here. He was scared, more scared than ever before. He had never seen his parents like this. He didn’t understand why this was happening. It had been at least five years since they had last ventured down from the hills into the farm... His father said that the townsfolk had done enough to stop it happening again.
Breathing hard Safa felt a presence, creatures... looking at him. Even in the darkness he felt tens of eyes on him. During the day he loved to feed the chickens, he loved the excited clucks they made... but now they made him tense. They made no sound. They were as scared as him. It was always said that animals had a sixth sense to them; the animals knew when they were near and wanted to hide just as much as he did right now.
Safa sat on the floor, bringing his knees up and placing his forehead on top of his knee caps. He wrapped his arms around his legs and clasped his fingers tight. He consciously slowed his breathing and listened... it was all he could do.
First he heard nothing, perhaps his father had killed them, dad was a strong man and his mother had always said thieves and bandits were too scared to approach the farm with him here... but this was different. Safa pressed his forehead hard into his knees and concentrated as hard as he could. He could hear his mother’s voice pleading with his father.
“No! Don’t fight it Tysik. It is too strong!”
A clang of metal and a ferocious roar pierced his ears and left them ringing. He heard the slam of the farmhouse door, he knew they had retreated back into the house, they were hiding. Tears ran down Safa’s cheeks, he wanted to help, he wanted to rescue them, but he was frozen. The sound of wood being broken could be heard followed by a scream that penetrated the walls of the wooden coup. It was his mother, and she had creamed in terror.
“No!” he heard “Tysik”.
A loud thud and it roared again, this time it did not seem in anger, but something else. Triumph..?
Then... Silence.
Safa sat, rocking back and forth, crying. He remembered the smile on his mothers face as he entered the room for family dinner, remembered his father’s comforting touch when ruffling his hair. His thoughts were interrupted by another thunderous crash, this time much closer than the last. It had broken out of the house, into the field and now it was less than a hundred yards from where he sat. He considered closing his eyes and covering his ears but he couldn’t do it. The fear of not knowing was worse than the fear he had for the approaching footsteps. He could hear huge feet hitting the floor, its mass causing the ground to tremor. His mother’s voice drifted through his mind. “Don’t come out Safa, no matter what you hear!”.
The stomps were getting closer and closer. Safa knew it could sense him. He held his breath as the creature approached the chicken coup. It was so close now that he could hear its breathing, or perhaps sniffing outside. It remained there for a few moments before letting out a loud, primal scream. It contained a fury that Safa had never experienced before now. Fear consumed Safa and sent his body trembling uncontrollably. He sat there expecting the roof to be torn from the coup at any moment. He heard the footsteps again, but this time they were moving away. They faded into the distance until finally they vanished.
Safa sat there, frozen in fear. He sat rocking, crying and forcing the negative thoughts of what must have happened to his parents from his mind. Time passed. He was unsure of how much. It could have been an hour... possibly five. He had no perception of time.
Safa’s legs hurt. The circulation having being cut off for as long as it had began to cause him great discomfort and there was not enough room in the coup to stand. He had heard nothing for ages and his parents hadn’t come for him. He couldn’t stay here any longer. Rocking his weight onto his toes he pushed himself up. He kicked the door. Over and over again he pounded it. The sounded filled his ears and he knew that the sound of his escape would be filling the farm.
The latch was strong, but it was designed to hold the escape of a chicken, not a human. Eventually it gave way and the door was flung open. Holding open the door with one hand, he used the other to cling onto the door frame in order to pull himself up and out of the coup.
Safa began walking cautiously toward his house. He could see from here that the door lay five feet from its original position in the wall. He stepped closer and closer until he could see the stone floor of the farmhouse. He approached even slower. He could smell sulphur in the air... It was them. The air literally felt evil and he knew wrong had been done here. As his right foot hit the first step his mind was telling his body to turn and run. He fought the urge to flee and planted his second foot. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
He turned his head right and screamed at the sight. The walls were splattered with blood. He fell backwards and landed on a chair. The chair he has been sat on just hours before, ready to enjoy his supper. He looked across the table. Looking down at his plate he saw the meal his mother had made for him. The chicken seemed to be leaking blood... making the potatoes soggy and causing the peas to float. It wasn’t the chicken’s blood, he knew that. It was the blood of his parents.
Safa clapped a hand over his mouth before falling from the chair to his knees. Turning his head slowly toward the doorway he saw his father lying on the ground. His eyes starred back at Safa, yet his face was pale... lifeless. His chest had been torn open; three ribs were exposed with muscle hanging out from the tears. In his father’s right hand was the axe he had pulled from the wall. It was covered in a dark purple substance, far thicker than blood... just like the stories told. Although... Safa thought looking at the amount of blood on the axe, not quite enough for the blow to have been fatal.
Almost as if waiting for the thought Safa heard a ‘snort’ from outside. Something was out there... the thing that had killed his mother and father. Safa’s body tensed, but he needed to see it... He needed to see what done this. Dropping down onto all fours he walked slowly towards the window. Upon reaching the wall he pressed his back against the wall and rose up slowly. As he reached a point just below the window sill he turned around and saw the thing. It lay there breathing. But something was wrong. It appeared to be sleeping? But Safa knew they didn’t sleep. No, Safa realised now. It wasn’t sleeping. It was unconscious... incapacitated.
I got told off a while ago for posting a critique a bit too early but I'm hoping I have been here long enough now to ask for you help
I'm relatively new to writing... I have been writing on and off for two years. This is the first chapter of a story I am working on (up to chapter 6 - but I won't post too much up to start with). Thanks in advance anyone willing to lend me their time and efforts with reading through this Safa
”Dinners ready!” called Safa's mother.
Safa looked up from his wooden desk and smiled. Today was a day Safa had been looking forward to. Once a week his mother would make a huge dinner and today was that day. The average meal after a hard day out on the farm would be an unsatisfying broth of various vegetables. It would barely fill his belly.
Although Safa’s parents owned a farm, they were relatively poor. They had struggled to feed themselves with what they grew, let alone have any leftover worth selling. With the harsh climate of Turbia, very little grew and it was very difficult to keep the animals well fed. They tended to die either of the heat, the lack of good food or both. Safa hated seeing the animals die... one of the jobs his father entrusted to him was to feed them and he enjoyed watching them grow.
“Safa… Hurry up! It’ll get cold!” Safa decided to take the risk and quickly filled in the Cat’s nose with the black crayon before quickly sliding off his timber chair and charging towards his bedroom door. The aroma hit him as he pulled it open, his mouth filled with saliva, begging him to fill it with the delicious food that lay on the table before him.
“If you stand their staring any longer your Dad will take the opportunity and have yours, you do know that?” teased his mother.
Looking across the table he saw his mother and father awaiting his company to begin their meal. He laughed, but hurried along to the table not wanting to take the chance of missing out. He jumped up onto his chair and took a moment to admire the food on his plate; crisp potatoes dripped with golden butter, the peas were green and the most plump you could pick, the carrots were steamed so soft your fork slid straight through them. And finally, his favourite: chicken, white, succulent meat taken from the healthiest chicken in the coup. He fought the urge to thrust his fork into the chicken and shovel it into his mouth just long enough to look up at his mother.
”Thanks Mum, this is for the hundredth week in a row the best looking meal I have ever seen!”
His mother laughed, “I am glad you approve”
Smiling, she looked over at her husband.
“Remember though Safa, who provides the ingredients...”
“God..? Asked Safa?”
His mother laughed.
“I was actually reffering to your father! He works hard out on that farm to provide for us” she winked at her husband, who smiled back and turned to face Safa.
”I am just sorry I can’t give you more Safa” he said apologetically “I wish I could spare enough meat and vegetables for your mother to make us meals like this every. But don’t worry, when you get a little older, I am sure you will be able to eat whenever and whatever you like. When you are my age, you’ll own your own farm, much bigger than mine. I am sure of it.” With that the farmer reached over and ruffled his son’s hair.
Suddenly a loud crash was audible. It came from outside. Jumping from his seat, his father ran towards the window. He slowly peeled back the curtain and peered outside. He took a few steps back, obviously in shock. He slowly turned to look at his wife, his eyes wide with fear.
“What! What is it?” asked Safa his voice trembling.
Ignoring his son the farmer cried out to his wife; “Yuki, take Safa and hide... quickly”
”What is it?” she cried
“Just do it! Now!” he answered with urgency.
Quickly she grabbed Safa’s hand, pulling him towards the door. She pulled him so forcefully he felt his arm may be pulled from his shoulder. As they reached the back door he looked over at his father who was dismounting a large axe from the rack beside the fireplace... he caught Safa’s gaze.
“Run!” He demanded before ripping open the door and throwing himself out into the fields.
Yuki pulled her son through the back door. Looking across the field from his current position Safa could see nothing. It was all just green fields and animals... Suddenly though something could be seen making its way through the air. It was black, about the size of a kicking ball and... it had eyes. Safa let out a yelp as he realised what it was... it was the head of a sheep. It hit the ground about 10 feet in-front of him with a ‘squelch’. It bounced towards him and from the way it landed Safa could see quite clearly that it had been ripped from its torso. The neck bone, spine or whatever it was called remained attached. It was a sickening sight and Safa began to cry.
“Safa, Come On!” pleaded his mother. She dragged him towards the chicken coup. It was a small, wooden building that housed around 30 chickens. There was no way it could hold two people.
As they reached the coup his mother gripped his shoulders and spun him around to face her. She knelt down and looked directly into his eyes. He had never seen anyone so frightened; his mothers face was ghostly white and her eyes were wide.
Her voice was broken and trembling as she ordered Safa; “Don’t come out Safa, no matter what you hear, me or your father will come and get you. Do not come out before then!”
She kissed her son on the forehead and said quietly “I love you” before pulling open the chicken coup door and pushing her son inside. Safa took a step backwards and fell over something. He tried to get up, but before he could he heard the latch slide across the door. His mother was gone.
Safa placed his hand within inches of his face and saw absolutely nothing. It was literally pitch black in here. He was scared, more scared than ever before. He had never seen his parents like this. He didn’t understand why this was happening. It had been at least five years since they had last ventured down from the hills into the farm... His father said that the townsfolk had done enough to stop it happening again.
Breathing hard Safa felt a presence, creatures... looking at him. Even in the darkness he felt tens of eyes on him. During the day he loved to feed the chickens, he loved the excited clucks they made... but now they made him tense. They made no sound. They were as scared as him. It was always said that animals had a sixth sense to them; the animals knew when they were near and wanted to hide just as much as he did right now.
Safa sat on the floor, bringing his knees up and placing his forehead on top of his knee caps. He wrapped his arms around his legs and clasped his fingers tight. He consciously slowed his breathing and listened... it was all he could do.
First he heard nothing, perhaps his father had killed them, dad was a strong man and his mother had always said thieves and bandits were too scared to approach the farm with him here... but this was different. Safa pressed his forehead hard into his knees and concentrated as hard as he could. He could hear his mother’s voice pleading with his father.
“No! Don’t fight it Tysik. It is too strong!”
A clang of metal and a ferocious roar pierced his ears and left them ringing. He heard the slam of the farmhouse door, he knew they had retreated back into the house, they were hiding. Tears ran down Safa’s cheeks, he wanted to help, he wanted to rescue them, but he was frozen. The sound of wood being broken could be heard followed by a scream that penetrated the walls of the wooden coup. It was his mother, and she had creamed in terror.
“No!” he heard “Tysik”.
A loud thud and it roared again, this time it did not seem in anger, but something else. Triumph..?
Then... Silence.
Safa sat, rocking back and forth, crying. He remembered the smile on his mothers face as he entered the room for family dinner, remembered his father’s comforting touch when ruffling his hair. His thoughts were interrupted by another thunderous crash, this time much closer than the last. It had broken out of the house, into the field and now it was less than a hundred yards from where he sat. He considered closing his eyes and covering his ears but he couldn’t do it. The fear of not knowing was worse than the fear he had for the approaching footsteps. He could hear huge feet hitting the floor, its mass causing the ground to tremor. His mother’s voice drifted through his mind. “Don’t come out Safa, no matter what you hear!”.
The stomps were getting closer and closer. Safa knew it could sense him. He held his breath as the creature approached the chicken coup. It was so close now that he could hear its breathing, or perhaps sniffing outside. It remained there for a few moments before letting out a loud, primal scream. It contained a fury that Safa had never experienced before now. Fear consumed Safa and sent his body trembling uncontrollably. He sat there expecting the roof to be torn from the coup at any moment. He heard the footsteps again, but this time they were moving away. They faded into the distance until finally they vanished.
Safa sat there, frozen in fear. He sat rocking, crying and forcing the negative thoughts of what must have happened to his parents from his mind. Time passed. He was unsure of how much. It could have been an hour... possibly five. He had no perception of time.
Safa’s legs hurt. The circulation having being cut off for as long as it had began to cause him great discomfort and there was not enough room in the coup to stand. He had heard nothing for ages and his parents hadn’t come for him. He couldn’t stay here any longer. Rocking his weight onto his toes he pushed himself up. He kicked the door. Over and over again he pounded it. The sounded filled his ears and he knew that the sound of his escape would be filling the farm.
The latch was strong, but it was designed to hold the escape of a chicken, not a human. Eventually it gave way and the door was flung open. Holding open the door with one hand, he used the other to cling onto the door frame in order to pull himself up and out of the coup.
Safa began walking cautiously toward his house. He could see from here that the door lay five feet from its original position in the wall. He stepped closer and closer until he could see the stone floor of the farmhouse. He approached even slower. He could smell sulphur in the air... It was them. The air literally felt evil and he knew wrong had been done here. As his right foot hit the first step his mind was telling his body to turn and run. He fought the urge to flee and planted his second foot. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
He turned his head right and screamed at the sight. The walls were splattered with blood. He fell backwards and landed on a chair. The chair he has been sat on just hours before, ready to enjoy his supper. He looked across the table. Looking down at his plate he saw the meal his mother had made for him. The chicken seemed to be leaking blood... making the potatoes soggy and causing the peas to float. It wasn’t the chicken’s blood, he knew that. It was the blood of his parents.
Safa clapped a hand over his mouth before falling from the chair to his knees. Turning his head slowly toward the doorway he saw his father lying on the ground. His eyes starred back at Safa, yet his face was pale... lifeless. His chest had been torn open; three ribs were exposed with muscle hanging out from the tears. In his father’s right hand was the axe he had pulled from the wall. It was covered in a dark purple substance, far thicker than blood... just like the stories told. Although... Safa thought looking at the amount of blood on the axe, not quite enough for the blow to have been fatal.
Almost as if waiting for the thought Safa heard a ‘snort’ from outside. Something was out there... the thing that had killed his mother and father. Safa’s body tensed, but he needed to see it... He needed to see what done this. Dropping down onto all fours he walked slowly towards the window. Upon reaching the wall he pressed his back against the wall and rose up slowly. As he reached a point just below the window sill he turned around and saw the thing. It lay there breathing. But something was wrong. It appeared to be sleeping? But Safa knew they didn’t sleep. No, Safa realised now. It wasn’t sleeping. It was unconscious... incapacitated.
