Short Story- feedback greatly appreciated

Achillles

Hi,
My first time to throw something up on the forum so just looking to see what your thoughts are. Not really sure what the rules are regarding posting violent themes so just to be safe- it does get a small bit violent! It's a short story/kernel of one but I have no idea if I'm any good! Anyway enjoy (hopefully).


Ragged breath escapes from fatigued lungs. She’s running. Weary feet are sucked back into the marshy terrain. Away. Every step is a struggle. The horror that lives all too vividly in her waking moments, haunts her fitful dreams, is in pursuit. Tear brimmed eyes take in flitting surroundings – ghastly moonlight oozes through thick fog and foliage overhead, snapping twigs underfoot are thunderclaps, dew dropped undergrowth snags and scrapes and claws at her ankles. Striving to trap her. To prevent escape. Sentencing her to death.

He takes his time, paces himself. Tracking her through dense forest is disappointingly easy. Her frantic flight has left a trail a cataract old man could follow. His heart rate is quickened, the heady rush of the chase coursing through his veins. The ecstasy he feels inside does not affect his thinking. Rather it gives it a sharper edge, motions become fluid, he is at one with himself. He allows himself a smile. She is moving ever deeper into the woods that will become her tomb. He decides to cut her off at an angle before she composes herself enough to hide. That would make things more difficult.

She has no idea where her pursuer is. He could be watching her. The bastard likes to take his time. She shudders at the thought of his eyes on her. Ghastly images flood her mind. Memories come in a smoky haze. When she could summon the courage to look into those eyes she expected to see evil incarnate staring back at her. Venom or hate or lust would have been preferable to the glassy indifference he exhibited. His utter lack of compassion induces paralyzing fear. All she saw in those eyes was her own cowering reflection, her own weakness. So she stopped looking.

Close now, he can feel it. She has stopped her reckless crashing through the thick undergrowth. She’s calmed herself down, which means she’s starting to think clearly. It’s time to close in on her. He picks up his pace to a steady trot and closes the distance. Then he feels it. Nothing tangible, but the forest is holding its collective breath, waiting in anticipation. He slows down to a walk, tuning his senses for the telltale sound that will give her away. It could be a hiss of escaped breath, a rustling leave, the muffled scrape of a scuffed boot on the frigid, damp ground.

She realises that flight is futile. A week of imprisonment has left her body in a feeble state. He is stronger, fitter, faster. It dawns on her that she must surprise him with an attack. With this in mind she finds a hiding spot and waits. Alone with her thoughts, she suppresses blind panic and waits. She watches him pass by her, close enough to touch, to feel the heat radiate from his body on this chilly night. She longs for a gun, a weapon to end it. All she has is a hefty length of branch. He seems to know she is close, each step is silent, his every breath is hushed.

He sees the tips of her boots nosing out from the scrubs behind a tree, allows himself his second smile of the night, assured he has his bounty. She can surely hear him from this close. Her fear is palpable. He can smell the trap.

NOW! She closes the barefooted distance between his silhouette and her hiding place in seconds, takes an arcing swipe of the branch at the back of his head. Connects with thin air. Confusion muddles her brain as her momentum sends her careering towards the earth. How could I have missed? As she scrambles to regain her feet, she catches a flicker of movement amid the world of shadow. Something heavy clubs her head. The canopy starts to spin above her, and darkness descends.

He looks down at her limp body, and sighs. Even her petite frame is going to get heavy in the long slog back to his workshop. The bitch will pay for this.

As he waits for her to come round, he studies her almost peaceful features. The young woman before him is pretty, if not strikingly beautiful. Her chestnut brown hair is tinted a dark crimson, where the hair is matted to her scalp with blood. She shifts in place, dilated pupils beginning to focus. His blood stirs with excitement as her face contorts with conflicting emotions before the realisation hits. That’s right darling, time for my fun.

She screams. Raw throated shrieks of fury and terror, and knowledge. Knowledge of her impending torture and that she is powerless to stop it. She passes in and out of reality as he teases her skin with hot brands, strokes her with honed knives that pierce soft flesh. In her waking moments she prays.

It’s an art form. Torture that is. Prolonging the suffering is only the start. The pleasure comes psychologically. From looking into her eyes and seeing the certainty in them, tasting the subjection and defeat in her demeanour. I am death. I am life. I am as close to God as humanly possible, Lucifer too. Hazy hours breeze by as he caresses her fear; letting it intensify, build to a crescendo before the death blow.

She can see it coming, knows that relief will come soon. God knows she begged for it. Now it comes, swooping like a bird of prey. She is just another victim of life, a champion in death. She prepares her death mask.

He slits her throat cleanly, fluidly. Surprise registers on his features when he sees her smiling face greeting him. It was the first time one had smiled at him. He gulps in torrents of air, breathing in the ecstasy of the kill. Then he steels himself. For the aftermath; the cascade of emotion that will crash over him in waves. He sits in the corner and weeps. Shame, guilt, fear and regret consume him, his body racked with tremors. Then come disgust, hate, and self loathing. Followed by the fury that drives him to do it again.

P. Breathnach

Achillles wrote: »

... It's a short story/kernel of one ...

I think it is close to being good, albeit disturbing.

It's not complete. It needs a bit more back story to make the scenario comprehensible. A really accomplished story-teller could work that in fairly succinctly. In particular, the "week of imprisonment" is a problem for me: once you mention it, it requires some explanation. The alternative is to drop it entirely and focus entirely on what is actually happening within the scope of the story.

I am quite thrown by the changing of focus between the protagonists. While it is valid (and often useful) to do such a thing, there is something about the way it is done here that feels odd. Which one of them is the story about? The opening paragraph suggests a story about her, the closing seems to be about him.

Were I your editor, I'd quibble about little things here and there, particularly "He sees the tips of her boots nosing out from the scrubs behind a tree". At night? In woodland? Even with the aid of the moon, it seems improbable. You should find a better giveaway, perhaps making more of the tracking skills that you suggest he has.

The Princess Bride

Achillles wrote: »

Her frantic flight has left a trail a cataract old man could follow.

The bitch will pay for this.

I thoroughly enjoyed this-forgot I was reading a sample,tbh.
Reminded me of Lisa Gardner's style which I usually enjoy.

With the exception of the above lines,which I felt were surplus to requirements- although I can see why you included both.
Well done,and best of luck with your writing.

mari2222

It has great potential. May I suggest you remove some of the adjectives - there were a couple of "ghastly"s in there that you don't need. Well done.

hcass

P. Breathnach wrote: »

I think it is close to being good, albeit disturbing.

It's not complete. It needs a bit more back story to make the scenario comprehensible. A really accomplished story-teller could work that in fairly succinctly. In particular, the "week of imprisonment" is a problem for me: once you mention it, it requires some explanation. The alternative is to drop it entirely and focus entirely on what is actually happening within the scope of the story.

I agree about the back story - I didn't know enough about the woman to care about what happened to her. Why should I want her to get away? Should I want her to get away? It felt like an extract from a story rather than a complete piece.

And maybe I'm just particularly macabre but I would have liked more details on the torture at the end of the piece, specific details. God, I sound like a sicko.

Otherwise I really enjoyed it, a well written piece. Thanks for sharing.

Achillles

Thanks for the feedback and especially criticism everyone!

It's not complete. It needs a bit more back story to make the scenario comprehensible.

Aye, I agree-it does need some fleshing out in places, especially background.

"He sees the tips of her boots nosing out from the scrubs behind a tree". At night? In woodland? Even with the aid of the moon, it seems improbable.

Thanks, I don't think it came across clearly enough in the story at all, but she had left them within view on purpose with ambush as her intent.

I didn't know enough about the woman to care about what happened to her.... I would have liked more details on the torture at the end of the piece, specific details.

God, I hope if she had managed to escape it wouldn't have been you she came across or she really was up **** creek! I get what your saying though, hit the nail on the head about it feeling like an extract.

there were a couple of "ghastly"s in there that you don't need.

Just noticed that now and it's one of my pet hates when authors overuse the one word!

I thoroughly enjoyed this-forgot I was reading a sample,tbh.
Reminded me of Lisa Gardner's style which I usually enjoy.

Thanks. never read any of her work, but might get round to it soon!

wavehopper1

A good read, fast-paced and disturbing. A few notes from the opening paragraphs:

"Tear brimmed eyes take in flitting surroundings – ghastly moonlight oozes through thick fog and foliage overhead, snapping twigs underfoot are thunderclaps, dew dropped undergrowth snags and scrapes and claws at her ankles."

The length of this sentence dilutes the power. Thick fog is a bit of a horror cliche, whereas the thunderclap metaphor and the clawing undergrowth are fresh to my eyes. I think you could lose the unbolded parts.

"Her frantic flight has left a trail a cataract old man could follow."
Cataract-suffering? Old man with cataracts? What you have there doesn't sound right.

"Tracking her through dense forest is disappointingly easy."
This sentence diffuses the tension of the next sentences which describe the hunter's heart beat quickening etc.

The switching of view point from paragraph to paragraph is unusual - for good reason, as it can be very disorienting. But you keep the pace flying so I think it works here.

I'll just make one comment of the rest of the piece. The victim makes an attempt to hide and fight back, which adds tension. There is a sentence about him seeing her shoes sticking out. I was sure that she'd taken them off as a ruse and would step out behind him. I was disappointed that he had it so easy in the end. I think you could increase the tension by giving her one near-succesful swipe at him, but he gets her in the end.

Achillles

Thanks for the great input there, Wavehopper. Nothing more to say other than I completely agree- and I normally never agree with anyone about anything!