The Broken Gate; Critiques Wanted!
Oct 18, 2011 1:41:49 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2011 1:41:49 GMT -8
Hey all. I've posted bits and pieces of this here before. As the first draft is actually done, and I'm in the process of editing, I thought I'd post here again and see if I could get some good critiques on it. Especially as far as plot, characters, and descriptions go. Grammar is all well and good, but I want to focus on the story before I do the heavy grammar editing. 
Still, feel free to point it out if you want. Comments on the science I use would be good as well. I've done research, but I'm no expert and if something very obviously makes no sense, please point it out so I can fix it. I know I probably have a few typos, and for a good while I overused the em-dash, but that's hopefully been edited out now. Anyway, a synopsis, and word count.
The Broken Gate: Once, long ago, in a world far from our own, a powerful object was forged, harnessing the very energies within the universe. This object could create, and destroy. It passed down from one dictator to another, until the people rose up, and as a result, the object was shattered, and the people vanished, shards of this object flying to other worlds.
On Earth, Cal, a teenage girl, witnesses terrible events that result in her being hunted by someone desperate to gather all the pieces of that ancient object together and rule all the worlds. She is protected by four others, taken in and taught how to fight so that her family, and all the worlds, will be safe.
A/N: There is pretty rampant cussing and violence, so if any of that bothers you...probably shouldn't read. Warnings include: much use of the 'F' word, descriptions of rape (incest rape too), bloody killings, suicide, the murder of children/experimentation on children, and the murder of a pregnant woman. Most of that doesn't happen till much later though.
Anyway, Chapter One: The Following.
Word Count: 1,714
Also, no blood in this chapter, just threats. Chapter two is where it gets violent.
Still, feel free to point it out if you want. Comments on the science I use would be good as well. I've done research, but I'm no expert and if something very obviously makes no sense, please point it out so I can fix it. I know I probably have a few typos, and for a good while I overused the em-dash, but that's hopefully been edited out now. Anyway, a synopsis, and word count.The Broken Gate: Once, long ago, in a world far from our own, a powerful object was forged, harnessing the very energies within the universe. This object could create, and destroy. It passed down from one dictator to another, until the people rose up, and as a result, the object was shattered, and the people vanished, shards of this object flying to other worlds.
On Earth, Cal, a teenage girl, witnesses terrible events that result in her being hunted by someone desperate to gather all the pieces of that ancient object together and rule all the worlds. She is protected by four others, taken in and taught how to fight so that her family, and all the worlds, will be safe.
A/N: There is pretty rampant cussing and violence, so if any of that bothers you...probably shouldn't read. Warnings include: much use of the 'F' word, descriptions of rape (incest rape too), bloody killings, suicide, the murder of children/experimentation on children, and the murder of a pregnant woman. Most of that doesn't happen till much later though.
Anyway, Chapter One: The Following.
Word Count: 1,714
Also, no blood in this chapter, just threats. Chapter two is where it gets violent.
“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.”
-William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night- Act II, Scene V
The sun shone brightly on her face, and she squinted, holding up her hand, turning slightly to the side.
“Mom, can we-” Something hit her, then, and she stopped, the smile sliding off of her face, shuddering. All the sounds of the world faded, like she was sinking. A presence washed back over her like a heavy tide, turning her around and pulling her away from her family.
She ran, the thickening crowd hiding her from her family’s view, her shoulders shaking. She had to keep moving. Again something pushed at her and she stumbled, ignoring startled and concerned looks, shoving past those getting in her way.
“Cal!” She could hear her brother calling for her, practically feel his footsteps as he ran after her, their parents not far behind.
It took more willpower than she had imagined to turn, catching sight of his face, dark eyes wide as he took her in, reaching out almost hesitantly. How she must have looked, standing hunched over, face twisting at actual pain in her chest. “Ian,” she gasped, words tumbling out of her lips, for she knew, somehow, that her family could not follow her, no matter what.
“Bathroom- sick,” she blurted, relief flooding her body as she turned and was propelled forward again, Ian calling after her still, her parents’ voices joining his. She ran faster, more and more people separating them, as she knew had to be done.
Keep going, something told her, something that filled her with equal parts dread and eagerness- she had to keep going, wanted to keep going, and no questions filled her mind as to why.
Something red flashed through the crowd. Her eyes scanned for it desperately, her pounding heart seeming to fill up her throat, threatening to actually make her sick.
There! A man walked through the crowd, not pausing to look at shops, or to even glance at the other people, as sure in his purpose as Cal was in hers at that moment. She slowed to a walk, the same force bidding her to follow more carefully. The man’s trench coat flapped around his ankles, his head turning left and right- seeming to be looking for something.
Seconds passed, and the crowd thinned. The boy did not look back at her, and people’s gazes seemed to slide right past her as well, but she did not care. She had to do this. She didn’t stop to wonder why.
He abruptly turned a corner, and Cal hung back, like something was holding her there, not wanting her to be seen.
Ahead, the rock and gem shop (The Trove) had its curtains pulled over the windows, and a ‘closed’ sign hung in the door. The boy glanced sideways, silently opened the door, and went inside.
Again, her feet stumbled forward, struggling to move fast enough. There was no space in her head to question, only to know that she had to run. The door was slightly open. It was like something guided her hand and arm so that the hinges wouldn’t creak, and she, too, slid inside.
The rock and gem shop was quiet, and broken. Shining glass littered the floor and the counters, stones lying on the tiles or across the room, as if thrown in fury. Bins holding polished gems had been shoved over, the rocks glittering like many eyes watching from the dark.
A pungent smell reached her, and she gagged, even as something willed her to keep moving, made her feet sure and soft, keeping her from stepping on broken glass or slippery stones. Faintly, she heard voices, and she walked faster.
I have to keep going. Can’t stop moving, not yet.
The smell grew stronger, and still she was pushed forward, now getting onto her knees, crawling. The shop was even messier farther in, and a door leading to the back room was open. Inside was a room stacked high with boxes; many tipped over or slashed as if a burglar had been through, others thrown carelessly to the ground, glass and gems scattered, but the glass did not seem to cut her somehow. Many of the boxes, though ripped and pushed over, still stood like pillars or walls in a maze.
“Get out.”
Cal froze, but then another voice answered, this one younger.
“You’re not in a position to make demands.”
Cal peeked through a space between boxes, seeing the boy standing in front of a shorter man with slick black hair. In the boy’s hand was a strange gun- pointed right at the man’s head.
For a moment, it was as if the something trailed softly down her hair, and she could have sworn someone whispered comforting words in her ear, and then it was gone.
“You know what I’m here for.”
Her breath caught in her throat- heart thumping madly as she clutched her knees. All of her sureness vanished as the imagined whisper had. She had to get out. She should not have been there, and she was half sure that at any moment they would hear her breathing. She tried to crawl forward, but found that quite suddenly she could not move away; like she was being held back.
“Its not here. Can’t you tell? I’ve been searching for weeks.” The man’s voice was fast, raspy, and desperate. “Great Cobra, Master has told me much about you. Including your real name.”
Cal dared to look around the corner again, the boy’s voice putting her in mind of a feral smile.
“Has he, now?” The boy said with disinterest. “A recruit we haven’t heard of. Not very high up on the food chain, so I guess all you’ve ever gotten is scraps. And, if that is the case…” The boy shimmered, and all over him colors moved, rearranged, until a boy with longer blond hair stood there, wearing a dark red hooded jacket, black pants, and brown boots. Cal could see a knife and a gun clipped to one boot. Clipped at his back was a scythe, and she could spy two other guns at his waist. He was also covered by tiny dime like circles, which he peeled off, revealing that they were connected, like a web. Faster than she could blink, he folded them together with one hand until they were around the size of a cell phone. He slid it into his pocket, taking a step closer to the man, who was trembling now. The boy continued. “Then there is no need for disguises. However, you must know too, then, that if you say my name- I will kill you.” He straightened his gun arm for emphasis.
“Y- you’re going to kill me anyway!” The man tried to sneer, but seemed nothing more than terrified.
“Yes, I am.” The boy took a step closer, and the man backed up against a wall of boxes, almost falling over. “Now,” the boy continued, “Either you assist me with information, or you produce what I want. I can only promise that I would be kinder than Cronos would be.”
The man laughed, but it was wild, nervous, and Cal tried again to move with no success.
“There’s nothing to tell- I’ve been searching for weeks, and Master will protect me!” He added with more desperation. Cal looked around the box again; somehow it was all she could do.
“Is that so? Hiding behind a box, is he?” The boy pressed forward, the gun touching the man’s forehead lightly.
The man stammered, sweat dripping down his face. “M-master-”
“-Isn’t here right now. But I am very much here, right in front of you, waiting to pull the trigger. If I you help me and I kill you, it will be quick, faster than your mind can register…but with Cronos it will be the opposite. You will suffer beyond anything you have ever felt before.”
The seconds passed, Cal holding her breath. The man begged and shook, and the boy’s finger inched toward the trigger.
“It is not here!” The man burst out. “Nowhere! I killed the two who owned this shop to search everywhere, but its not here!” The man went on even faster. “Master doesn’t have to know that you were here. I can just tell him I never found it-”
“Won’t work, sorry,” the boy said without regret.
“Please!” The man begged. “Please, Tro-”
There was a clattering of boxes, loud scuffling and struggling gasps- daring to look, Cal saw the man pinned to a wall, the boy’s hand on his throat. Her eyes widened, breath halted at the scene before her.
“Whoops,” the boy breathed as the squirming man beneath his fingers began to turn blue, spluttering incoherently. “You almost said it. You have no right to say my name. So you die now.”
As though released from the grasp of strong hands, Cal reacted instinctively, horror washing through her. She scooted backward rapidly, her elbow smashed into a pile of boxes, all of which clattered to the ground. A loud thump echoed around the room, but otherwise there was no sound. Not daring to look up, Cal tried to move again toward the door, crawling backward in a crabwalk, freezing as a voice called out to her- “Don’t move.”
The man spoke, out of breath, choking slightly, on his feet again. “Someone is watching us, C-Cobra. I’ll take care of her, I promise, and then I’ll help you out, yes, yes, you can take that gun off me, I swear I won’t run and-”
The boy snorted. “Good luck getting rid of her. Find anything, Cass?”
Cal heard the man’s feet moving backward. “Hydra?” The fear in his voice had increased.
“Yes.” The boy’s voice was conversational. “Want to see what happens when you try to cut off her head?” There was another scuffling sound, footsteps came toward her, and Cal felt a strong hand close around her upper arm. Still keeping her head down, Cal stifled a gasp as a low, smooth voice reached her ear- too quiet for all but her to hear.
“Say nothing. Stand, follow my lead, and you don’t have to be involved.”
-William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night- Act II, Scene V
The sun shone brightly on her face, and she squinted, holding up her hand, turning slightly to the side.
“Mom, can we-” Something hit her, then, and she stopped, the smile sliding off of her face, shuddering. All the sounds of the world faded, like she was sinking. A presence washed back over her like a heavy tide, turning her around and pulling her away from her family.
She ran, the thickening crowd hiding her from her family’s view, her shoulders shaking. She had to keep moving. Again something pushed at her and she stumbled, ignoring startled and concerned looks, shoving past those getting in her way.
“Cal!” She could hear her brother calling for her, practically feel his footsteps as he ran after her, their parents not far behind.
It took more willpower than she had imagined to turn, catching sight of his face, dark eyes wide as he took her in, reaching out almost hesitantly. How she must have looked, standing hunched over, face twisting at actual pain in her chest. “Ian,” she gasped, words tumbling out of her lips, for she knew, somehow, that her family could not follow her, no matter what.
“Bathroom- sick,” she blurted, relief flooding her body as she turned and was propelled forward again, Ian calling after her still, her parents’ voices joining his. She ran faster, more and more people separating them, as she knew had to be done.
Keep going, something told her, something that filled her with equal parts dread and eagerness- she had to keep going, wanted to keep going, and no questions filled her mind as to why.
Something red flashed through the crowd. Her eyes scanned for it desperately, her pounding heart seeming to fill up her throat, threatening to actually make her sick.
There! A man walked through the crowd, not pausing to look at shops, or to even glance at the other people, as sure in his purpose as Cal was in hers at that moment. She slowed to a walk, the same force bidding her to follow more carefully. The man’s trench coat flapped around his ankles, his head turning left and right- seeming to be looking for something.
Seconds passed, and the crowd thinned. The boy did not look back at her, and people’s gazes seemed to slide right past her as well, but she did not care. She had to do this. She didn’t stop to wonder why.
He abruptly turned a corner, and Cal hung back, like something was holding her there, not wanting her to be seen.
Ahead, the rock and gem shop (The Trove) had its curtains pulled over the windows, and a ‘closed’ sign hung in the door. The boy glanced sideways, silently opened the door, and went inside.
Again, her feet stumbled forward, struggling to move fast enough. There was no space in her head to question, only to know that she had to run. The door was slightly open. It was like something guided her hand and arm so that the hinges wouldn’t creak, and she, too, slid inside.
The rock and gem shop was quiet, and broken. Shining glass littered the floor and the counters, stones lying on the tiles or across the room, as if thrown in fury. Bins holding polished gems had been shoved over, the rocks glittering like many eyes watching from the dark.
A pungent smell reached her, and she gagged, even as something willed her to keep moving, made her feet sure and soft, keeping her from stepping on broken glass or slippery stones. Faintly, she heard voices, and she walked faster.
I have to keep going. Can’t stop moving, not yet.
The smell grew stronger, and still she was pushed forward, now getting onto her knees, crawling. The shop was even messier farther in, and a door leading to the back room was open. Inside was a room stacked high with boxes; many tipped over or slashed as if a burglar had been through, others thrown carelessly to the ground, glass and gems scattered, but the glass did not seem to cut her somehow. Many of the boxes, though ripped and pushed over, still stood like pillars or walls in a maze.
“Get out.”
Cal froze, but then another voice answered, this one younger.
“You’re not in a position to make demands.”
Cal peeked through a space between boxes, seeing the boy standing in front of a shorter man with slick black hair. In the boy’s hand was a strange gun- pointed right at the man’s head.
For a moment, it was as if the something trailed softly down her hair, and she could have sworn someone whispered comforting words in her ear, and then it was gone.
“You know what I’m here for.”
Her breath caught in her throat- heart thumping madly as she clutched her knees. All of her sureness vanished as the imagined whisper had. She had to get out. She should not have been there, and she was half sure that at any moment they would hear her breathing. She tried to crawl forward, but found that quite suddenly she could not move away; like she was being held back.
“Its not here. Can’t you tell? I’ve been searching for weeks.” The man’s voice was fast, raspy, and desperate. “Great Cobra, Master has told me much about you. Including your real name.”
Cal dared to look around the corner again, the boy’s voice putting her in mind of a feral smile.
“Has he, now?” The boy said with disinterest. “A recruit we haven’t heard of. Not very high up on the food chain, so I guess all you’ve ever gotten is scraps. And, if that is the case…” The boy shimmered, and all over him colors moved, rearranged, until a boy with longer blond hair stood there, wearing a dark red hooded jacket, black pants, and brown boots. Cal could see a knife and a gun clipped to one boot. Clipped at his back was a scythe, and she could spy two other guns at his waist. He was also covered by tiny dime like circles, which he peeled off, revealing that they were connected, like a web. Faster than she could blink, he folded them together with one hand until they were around the size of a cell phone. He slid it into his pocket, taking a step closer to the man, who was trembling now. The boy continued. “Then there is no need for disguises. However, you must know too, then, that if you say my name- I will kill you.” He straightened his gun arm for emphasis.
“Y- you’re going to kill me anyway!” The man tried to sneer, but seemed nothing more than terrified.
“Yes, I am.” The boy took a step closer, and the man backed up against a wall of boxes, almost falling over. “Now,” the boy continued, “Either you assist me with information, or you produce what I want. I can only promise that I would be kinder than Cronos would be.”
The man laughed, but it was wild, nervous, and Cal tried again to move with no success.
“There’s nothing to tell- I’ve been searching for weeks, and Master will protect me!” He added with more desperation. Cal looked around the box again; somehow it was all she could do.
“Is that so? Hiding behind a box, is he?” The boy pressed forward, the gun touching the man’s forehead lightly.
The man stammered, sweat dripping down his face. “M-master-”
“-Isn’t here right now. But I am very much here, right in front of you, waiting to pull the trigger. If I you help me and I kill you, it will be quick, faster than your mind can register…but with Cronos it will be the opposite. You will suffer beyond anything you have ever felt before.”
The seconds passed, Cal holding her breath. The man begged and shook, and the boy’s finger inched toward the trigger.
“It is not here!” The man burst out. “Nowhere! I killed the two who owned this shop to search everywhere, but its not here!” The man went on even faster. “Master doesn’t have to know that you were here. I can just tell him I never found it-”
“Won’t work, sorry,” the boy said without regret.
“Please!” The man begged. “Please, Tro-”
There was a clattering of boxes, loud scuffling and struggling gasps- daring to look, Cal saw the man pinned to a wall, the boy’s hand on his throat. Her eyes widened, breath halted at the scene before her.
“Whoops,” the boy breathed as the squirming man beneath his fingers began to turn blue, spluttering incoherently. “You almost said it. You have no right to say my name. So you die now.”
As though released from the grasp of strong hands, Cal reacted instinctively, horror washing through her. She scooted backward rapidly, her elbow smashed into a pile of boxes, all of which clattered to the ground. A loud thump echoed around the room, but otherwise there was no sound. Not daring to look up, Cal tried to move again toward the door, crawling backward in a crabwalk, freezing as a voice called out to her- “Don’t move.”
The man spoke, out of breath, choking slightly, on his feet again. “Someone is watching us, C-Cobra. I’ll take care of her, I promise, and then I’ll help you out, yes, yes, you can take that gun off me, I swear I won’t run and-”
The boy snorted. “Good luck getting rid of her. Find anything, Cass?”
Cal heard the man’s feet moving backward. “Hydra?” The fear in his voice had increased.
“Yes.” The boy’s voice was conversational. “Want to see what happens when you try to cut off her head?” There was another scuffling sound, footsteps came toward her, and Cal felt a strong hand close around her upper arm. Still keeping her head down, Cal stifled a gasp as a low, smooth voice reached her ear- too quiet for all but her to hear.
“Say nothing. Stand, follow my lead, and you don’t have to be involved.”
Guess I did it too much. Ah well, its the editing process. Getting a sense of place is important, and while I know I do fairly well with this later on, in the beginning when everything is happening so fast there isn't very much. I'll fix that, thanks.