Beginning of untitled story - opinions?

Have started to write something new - a sort of rework of something I wrote a few years ago but have subsequently lost. Would like to know what people's opinions are - I've the opening paragraph so far:


“Run ... must run ... quicker. Come on. Faster. Faster, damn you”

Puddles squelched underfoot as he stamped down the steep and extremely overgrown hill; brambles tore at his jacket and nettles stung his bare and mud covered feet. Somewhere behind he could just make out the steady beating of wings, moving ever closer. On the horizon lay his destination; the metropolis called Alura, its skyscrapers disappearing into the clouds that hung low. At the base of the hill, between safety and he, was a large expanse of water, which the locals had named Serenity, on the banks of which had the one and only pier that connected Alura to where he was now. Through the fog that slowly began to settle on his end, he could see the tip of the tip of the boathouse.

“Almost there. You can make it, you can make it. Must reach city, must warn them ... must ...”

A faint whistle echoed in his ear, making him glance back momentarily and just glimpsed the shadow of his pursuers moving near. In his momentary distraction, he failed to see the clump of log that stuck barely visible from the ground, sending him flailing into the muck and stone, crashing and pounding down the slope. After what seemed like an eternity of falling, he crashed into a half-dying tree with a near-deafening thud, feeling the bark tear into his skin. Through red flashes before his eyes, pounding in his temple and his heart in his gullet, he tried to stand up but discovered it impossible; he was broken.

“Damn...,” he thought, as the beating of wings moved over him, giving him the one and only chance to glimpse at who was after him, to look into their eyes and see nothing but the glassy emotionless blue staring back. There was a flash as the figure thrust something at him, a searing pain and burning in his torso, followed by a feeling of dampness down his waist and hip, before everything faded from red, to grey, to black, before changing to nothingness.

For a few seconds, the figure stood there, staring down at their prey through aged and tired eyes, and reached down to remove their weapon that was embedded in the skin; a golden and blood-stained trident. They knelt down beside the corpse, reached into the pocket of the torn and soiled jacket, and removed a piece of parchment. This seemed to satisfy them as they stood up straight, looked into the grey skies and unfurled their wings, sending feathers drifting gently to the ground as they launched into the air.

Das Kitty

I really liked it. Although, I would have preferred 'it' to 'they' as a pronoun for the creature.

The only other thing is the switch of POV from the protagonist to the subjective point of view made me stumble and I had to reread the last paragraph. I'm not really sure what I'd change, or if it's just me though.

The Princess Bride

Although it wouldn't be something I'd usually read,I actually enjoyed it.
Would reconstruct the paragraphs-that's all, it would make it easier to read.

Well done!

Icaras

Deleted User wrote: »

the tip of the tip of the boathouse.

Is this a typo? If not it seems like a comment thats trying to be clever for the sake of it.

I like the half dead tree description and the colours going red to grey to black.

What happened to the trident - did they leave a golden trident behind them.

It sets a good atmosphere in the paragraphs and I would like to read more so overall I would say its good.

Ha, good spot!

It was supposed to read, "the tip at the top", but in hindsight that does seem quite redundant.

Rubecula

I can see that developing into a good story. It was an fascinating read and leaves me thinking on what happens next. Any story thet leaves that feeling as you read it is good in my book. (No pun intended)

Goat the dote

Not a huge fan of fantasy personally but it was well written

Thanks so much for the positive feedback - I really appreciate it - here's the slight continuation of the story:

* * *

Jason sat in the corner of the mostly-packed cafe, at a table that looked out on to the busy street. He had not been in the city for long, so it was still hard for him to get used to so many people, having grown up in a small town. The cafe was full of noise; the murmurs of dozens of separate conversations, the clattering of crockery and that loud whooshing as a barista behind the counter frothed milk for somebody’s cappuccino. That was something that he found quite funny about being here; the vast amount of choices. Growing up, all he had to choose from was coffee or tea, with most places giving you strange looks if you asked for something as fancy as a latte. Here, people were asking for things he had never even heard of and everything had fancy names – tall, grande, venti. Whatever happened to a simple small, medium or large? This thought forced a small giggle to himself as he glanced down at his watch; she was late, he sighed, she was always late.

As he waited, he closed his eyes, took some deep breaths and let the sound wash over him. The murmurs, the clattering, the whooshing all blurred into one indiscernible noise and he imagined that he was floating above it all, far in the air. There was something so serene and calming about this sensation and he felt himself seeping deeper and deeper into blissfulness, until a clatter on his back sent him flailing back to reality with a jump. Startled, he shot open his eyes to see Erica’s bright smile and gorgeous blue eyes staring back down at him.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” she said with a laugh, hand still resting on his shoulder where she had just slapped him, before slipping into the chair beside him.

“Gee, thanks, Erica,” Jason murmured, glancing around the cafe to see if anyone was staring and his eyes met the barista behind the counter, who was now watching him with a half-bemused grin. He could feel his cheeks redden somewhat and tried to make them stop, yet only managed to make it worse.

She was someone he had had a crush on ever since he first moved here, and he had now come here so much that he knew her by name; Sharon, but she only knew him by the nickname, Skinny Mocha Guy (it was the first thing he could think of and had just kept ordering it since then as it seemed easier than coming up with something new).

Erica laughed, “we’ve been coming here for weeks and you’ve been giving her eyes all that time.” She placed a hand on his back, almost pushing him out of his chair, “go up and talk to her! I want a coffee any way and it looks like you could do with a refill,” she glanced down at his empty cup, “skinny mocha again, eh? You sly dog.”

Begrudgingly Jason stood up after some minor protesting and walked towards the counter, where Sharon was serving a slightly heavy-set man, wearing a very dapper navy pin-striped suit. It had been quite a humid day, so from the back Jason could see that the man was sweating profusely and a heavy cloud of aftershave hung around him, almost causing Jason to cough when he first encountered it. He stood there, almost feeling Erica’s eyes burning into his back as he knew she would be. Eventually Sharon finished with the heavy-set man’s order and he stepped aside, thanking her politely before making his way across the cafe and out into the busy street.

Jason stepped forward, tried to speak but found the words quite difficult to come– she really was beautiful; her black hair, tied back in a ponytail, her flawless skin rosy at the cheeks from the heat of the day and behind the counter, and her auburn eyes. As he stood there, a smile crossed her lips and this involuntarily brought a smile across his too. She laughed and asked if he was OK, if he would like a refill. He nodded and after a second’s thought, remembered about Erica’s coffee and asked for that too. “Got it,” she said and stepped over to the coffee machine. Jason was about to ask her if she’d like to go for a coffee sometime, some place else of course, but she had turned on the frother to froth some milk and his words became lost with the noise.

“Jason!” he heard Erica calling from behind, “Jason!”

He turned and shouted “what?” back to her, slightly annoyed.

“I just got a text message from my mum. She wants me to pick up today’s newspaper and drop it into them on my way home. I’m just going to head down to the shops now, OK?” He nodded back that it was and turned back to the counter, in time to see that Sharon had just finished with the froth and was just letting the coffee brew. Once more their eyes met and she smiled.

“Uh, Sharon,” he started, “I was hoping – I mean, I was wondering, if I could ask you something?”

“Sure thing, Skinny Mocha Guy,” she replied with a laugh and Jason told her that simply Jason would do, “OK, simply Jason, what would you like to ask?”

Jason was about to finally ask her out when he noticed the rumbling. At first it was only just minor, but then it continued to grow stronger and stronger, causing the crockery on the coffee machine to vibrate heavily. Other people started to notice it too and it there was a hushed panic in the room, until the rumbling grew so strong that the crockery now started to fall to the ground, smashing on the ground. Someone, a skinny guy wearing tight jeans and a heavy jumper, despite the heat, shouted that it was an earthquake. Now the panic was no longer hushed, as people started to dive under their tables and the doorways. Jason glanced around the room and happened to see out the window, where he saw Erica standing in the now-empty street. She looked scared and was staring at something in the street, mouth agape and newspaper tucked tightly into her armpit.

There came a bright light outside a few feet in front of her. It was almost blinding from even in here. Jason shouted if she was OK, but his voice was lost in the rumbling and the panicked screams from within the cafe. He ran into the street, leaving Sharon calling out to him, who had hidden behind the counter, and managed to get by Erica’s side when the dazzling light blinded him completely and the rumbling, the screams, the sirens and everything faded to absolute silence.

Kinski

Sorry to offer what probably sounds like stock advice, but you really need to cool it on the adjectives and adverbs: the many examples include "steep and overgrown hill"; "bare and mud-covered feet"; and the worst offence, "mostly-packed cafe" (it's either packed or it ain't.)

Das Kitty's point about POV is very insightful; there is a problem with the focalisation in your opening.

Oryx

My criticisms are kinda picky, so bear with me. For me its always the small things that irk and pull me out of a story. You need to reread it and tidy it up a lot. Get rid of any adjectives strung together with 'and'. You have a half-dying tree and a near-deafening thud. Too many hyphens, you do that a lot and all the ones in your excerpts are unnecessary. And thud isn't a deafening sound to me.

There are no big flaws, its a good story that just needs a bit of editing. The repetition of the word ground in one sentence. The change of tense when you refer to the cafe as 'in here'. Those kind of small things that stop an ok story being really good. Like I said. I'm picky.

I've actually gone back through it taking into account what people have said and have removed a lot of those.

Would the use of "and" like I have it cause much of a problem? I always felt that it introduced a certain amount of urgency into it, am I wrong?

Oryx

It might add urgency for you but it didn't read like that for me. If anything it slowed it down. I'm as guilty as anyone of overdoing adjectives and its hard sometimes to go back and pare down something youre happy with. But that first paragraph needs to be very fast paced and have a sense of fear, and right now its slower than it could be. But of course thats just my opinion lol.