29/05/2009
Hunted
Hunted was an old short story I wrote in 2004, originally one short chapter, I split it into two parts to turn it into blog-sized chunks. I think it’s a useful thing, keeping older material around. If anything, it’s a reference for how you did things in the past and allows you to compare what you’ve progressed to at the current point in time.
I recall the two main reasons this was created. The first was to try and experiment with working in italic text, as I’d noticed it in a few books I’d read, either to denote letters or other pieces of writing ‘inside’ the story, or to depict certain character’s thoughts. The second was to help with the descriptions of it all, and to expand vocabulary used in describing emotions.
Finally, it allowed me to see the obvious inconsistancies between viewpoints. Often, they are muddled, which can be confusing for the reader, which is good experience in itself to overcome.
Thanks for reading.
[029] Predator – END
Struggling profusely, Carrie tried to attack back. Kicking and biting and scratching for all she was worth. Her energy gone, she worked on nothing but pure adrenaline now. Sadly, this did little to stop her attacker from completing what he had set out to do. He threw her against the wall. Her body racked against it and searing pain shot through her like the very lightning above her. The tears were bigger now. Dropping from her face and colliding with the cold, dead floor. Glass cuts speckled her hands and arms where she tried to protect her face from the fall. Each one stung intensely with each movement. The worse was still to come for this poor, young girl though. A violent boot to her stomach sent her down to the ground. Her glasses fell from her face and the bottle remnants slicing into her face.
I control you.
The large character promptly put a steel toe-capped boot down on them, crushing them easily. Carrie could do nothing but lay there and let this person abuse her. The air had left her lungs and every little breath felt like fire. Her body was so heavy and tired. She prayed for hope that it would be over soon. And as if to answer her prayers, the man withdrew a black pistol from behind his back. He grabbed hold of the back of her shirt to pull her up. Stretching out her torment longer, it gave way, once again dropping her to the floor with a sickening thud. The top half of an old wine bottle left out as trash sliced into her side, oozing crimson liquid from the wound it opened. Not happy with this her attacker hoisted her up by her long brown hair, and bought her eye level with him.
Shock rippled through her body and was apparent in her crest-fallen features and red, tear-stained eyes as he pulled the trigger several times. The rounds emptied themselves into her body, ranging from her lungs to legs, each one burning deep into her soul. He held her there, and maintained eye contact with her as she slowly slipped away from the world. Her beautiful eyes slowly clouding over and then closing as she faded away.
You belong to me.
