JRRT

Chapter 8Run, run, run. My lungs are on fire as we pound down the sidewalk, rounding the corner of the next building. The air feels heavy with static, and the hair on my neck stands on end. My eyes are still spotty from the shock the thing gave me, and I stumble. I can feel Alex’s hand gripping mine. She’s keeping up. We have to get away. It isn’t safe. We have to get away!Something like an explosion rocks the ground, and suddenly I lose her hand and I’m sprawling. Agony explodes in my head, and my vision goes red. I roll over. My arms are on fire with pain, and my heart thuds in my chest and temples. I can see drops of blood on the concrete.Everything is so quiet, except for a thin, high sound. Someone is screaming a long way off. I try to rise, try to clear my vision, but I don’t have the strength. I fall again, but this time hands grip me. They hold me up, turning me over.Blue sky fills my field of view, and then a face. Alex. I’m on my back. She’s holding my head, saying something. I can’t hear her above the pounding in my ears. Her face is full of terror, and I feel sorry…so sorry that she had to go through this. I’m tired…I’m sinking. Darkness creeps up the edges of my vision, and I can’t hold on anymore. Sinking. Sinking into the blackness… --- I awaken with a start, gasping. It’s dark, but there’s a light above me. I raise my eyes, and see that it’s a fluorescent bulb. It’s mounted into the concrete wall against which I’m leaning. Cobwebs. It’s cold, damp…I’m back in the tunnel.I start forward, confused. My limbs are sluggish. It doesn’t make any sense. I rub my head. No wounds. No pain. I can hear. Where’s Alex? What happened to me?And then I see it. The black wall. It looms to my right, just as before, cutting off the tunnel. An impenetrable barrier.Fear courses through me again. I thought I had escaped. To my left, the tunnel continues on, empty. I start to rise. Can’t stay here. I have to get back…have to go…somewhere…A noise disturbs the cool silence, and something moves in the darkness to my left, farther down the tunnel. A figure.It’s the man again. The dead man. I don’t understand. It can’t be real. Not again. I must have hit my head—“No, Ian. It’s real,” the man speaks. His voice sounds strained this time, gravelly. He steps forward, and I see that his clothes look even more ragged than before.“What happened?” I ask, “Did you do it? Is it over?”The man’s expression is unreadable. He purses his lips.“Ian,” he says, “do you remember what I told you before? About myself? It was after Alex was taken. I told you that we, myself and…it—We’re opposites. Like different ends of a magnet. Remember that?”I nod, feeling worn out.“I wanted to help you understand,” he continues. “In truth, it’s a bit more complicated than that. I’ve lived a long time, Ian. Long time. It’s quite a gift. I’ve wandered the world for lifetimes…”He stops for moment as if catching his breath.“But always…always I’m pursued. He—it—pursues me. Really, he’s more like a reflection of me. I’m alive, you see, but in him there is no life. I’m a man; he’s a…an ‘unman.’ He can only take life, feed off of it—the conflict and the struggle. I’m eternal, and he craves the life I have. We’re drawn to each other, always. It’s, well…It’s a tiring existence. And now you’re a part of our struggle.”I shake my head, frowning. This is crazy. I don’t want to get pulled any deeper into this. I want out.“How am I a part of any of this?” I retort. “It wants you! I’m just a kid on a train.”“No you’re not, Ian. Not just a kid on a train.” The man’s eyes widen, and he steps forward shakily.“You’re a part of this because…because I know now that it has to end. This has to be finished, and you can finish it, Ian. We’re very much alike, you and I. We live lives of…conflict.”There is a stirring in the black wall to my right, and I whirl to look. It ripples, swirling like vapor, and then something emerges. I shy away, fearing to see the dreadful puppet-form the thing had taken in the street.But no…this is worse. It steps forward, unsteady on its feet. Dull eyes stare at me, and the sound of a bottle shattering on the concrete echoes down the tunnel as the image of my father moves into the light.“C-conflict,” the image says with sluggish lips, “Yeah. Ain’t that right, Ian.”It isn’t real. It isn’t real. I try to close my eyes, to look away. I can’t. There is no escape this time. No firm hand to pull me away. I’m trapped, helpless.“Yeah, dad,” I reply.“Ian,” the man says from behind me. “It was no accident that you were on the train today. You know that, right?”I do. I had chosen to be there. I had made a decision.“I know…” I reply.My throat is tight as the memory rises in my mind. The image of my dad leers down at me, and it’s like a raw wound deep inside. It had been another argument. They were all alike. Shouts and curses and words that hurt, though neither of us would ever show it.“I hate you,” I had said. “I hate you. I’m not coming back.”The door slammed, and my feet pounded the porch as I left. I heard the creak of hinges behind me as my dad stumbled out, barely sober. His voice was thick when he called out. Almost like he was choking.He had called to me. Called out.“I’m sorry, son! Oh God, I’m sorry. No more of this. I-I promise.”The crash of a bottle shattering on the paved steps made me jump, and I turned, one last time. I thought he had thrown it at me, but he had only thrown it down on the step.“I hate it,” he says. “I hate what…what it does to me. It’s like it eats me alive. I’m sorry, son.”He slumps sideways against the porch-rail, and I see that his face is a mess of tears. They drip down his chin.“Don’t leave…I don’t know how to go on by myself.”It’s horrible, this feeling. Sadness. Guilt. Conflict. No. I had to get away…had to run. Run!And I did. I ran all day. Left it all behind. I hardly remembered where...It was all a blur. But finally, things had become clear, and I felt calm seep into my heart. Weariness. The station was a mess, people milling about. It had been a relief to sit in the quietness of the train-car, close my eyes, and get lost in music.But I still hadn’t decided what to do yet. The train was carrying me closer to home. Back to my father, back to that terrible conflict. Closer and closer…Where else could I go? Still…“Ian.” The man’s voice breaks in on the memory, and suddenly I’m back, leaning against the cold wall. My father is still there, staring me down.“You have a choice, Ian,” the man continues. “That’s what makes us different, you and I. You can make choices. I…I am eternal. I exist, but I don’t change. There’s a life for you out there. There’s a resolution, but it’s in your hands…”The man pauses. His eyes cloud over, and I see his legs shuddering. A rumble fills the tunnel for a moment, and he winces. But then it passes.“I can’t stop it, Ian. Out there, in the street. I can’t stop it, but I can’t let it take me. I am life, and it has none. We conflict. But in the end, I don’t have the strength…” He’s breathing hard now. His face looks paler.“I’ve lived in this body for a while, but not much longer. I wish for a change. It’s in your hands, Ian—the change. I can give you the chance. I still have the strength to turn things back, but you must make the choice.”He raises an arm, pointing at the image of my father.“But first, you have to make this right. He’s a shadow, sent to stop you, to tie you down. But he’s real enough. Make it right, Ian. It’s decision time.”And in that moment, I know what to do. It all seems clear now, like a dam that has finally burst inside of me, sweeping away all the pain, all the sadness, the anger.Tears spring into my eyes as turn to face my father. Face him, and weep, and say:“I know you’re sorry. Dad. I’m sorry. I forgive you.”The words fill the space of the tunnel, and my father’s eyes suddenly seem to brighten. His face is clear, awake. He smiles a little and steps back, back into the black curtain, and then he’s gone.It’s freedom, pure freedom. The weight lifts from my mind, and I stand up, staring at the place where he vanished. The tunnel doesn’t seem so dark now. It’s getting brighter, in fact. I steady myself against the wall. The man is beside me now, and I feel his cold hand upon my shoulder.“Resolution, Ian,” he says. “It’s what we all crave, no matter what we tell ourselves.”The light is definitely increasing. The black wall seems thin now, insubstantial. There is a shuddering in the floor and the walls. Something is happening.“And now,” the man continues, “I can give you the chance to end this. I will use what strength is left in me…I can turn things back. I yearn for an end to this…this eternal conflict. End it, Ian.”“How?”“You’ll see,” the man points upward with a pale, trembling finger. He smiles.I look up just in time to see the fluorescent bulb hanging above us blaze like a white sun, piercing and brilliant. And then it shatters.Debris rains down upon me as the darkness leaps up. The man is gone. The ground shakes, and a noise fills my ears, deep and rumbling. I can feel it in the floor as I crouch, trying to keep my balance.Suddenly I realize that it’s not dark anymore. My shadow stretches on before me, long and dark, cast by a light shining somewhere behind me. Something bright, growing and growing.I whirl around and cry out just as the lights of the train roar up out of the tunnel and thunder over me— --- —A shock, and a deafening sound, and I’m back in my seat on the train. My earphones are in my ears, and there’s Alex next to me, and the people sitting, staring, oblivious, all around.And I know.I know what to do.The man is out there in the aisle. His hand grips the metal pole to his right. He doesn’t move. Not a muscle.“Sir?”I half-stand in my seat, and the man almost jumps. He turns and looks at me. His eyes are sharp, piercing. It’s only a moment, a fraction of a moment, but he looks……distracted.Crash. The metro heaves, and my stomach jumps into my throat. Shattering glass, and a sickening lurch, and time seems to slow.His eyes are fixed upon me, and mine are on his. Everything goes sideways, and the ground rushes up toward him far too fast.He doesn’t see it. I don’t think he knows he’s going to die.Not this time.But in that moment, as the world spins into chaos around us, I think he does know that this is the end.It’s over.The change is made.The eternal conflict.Done.His eyes remain wide open this time, and the moment blazes past in a cloud of color and noise and pain, and I’m lying in the aisle now, battered and bruised, but alive.Alive!People are screaming, shouts and calls. I hear Alex’s voice, and a hand grabs at my shoulder, pulling me up. Pain courses through me, but I can take it. It means I’m still here.My vision starts to clear, and I see Alex’s face, concerned. No more blood. She’s safe. Beyond her, I see people scrambling over the chairs. One man is crouching in the aisle, crouching over a single, inert form. He shakes his head.I don’t know how. I don’t know what I did, exactly, but I know that it’s done. He didn’t see it coming this time. I made the choice for him.I sigh and lean back. My earphones are dangling from my pocket, and I realize that I can still hear them, crackling away.It’s static—hissing, insistent, angry.I struggle to lift my hands, to raise them to my ears…And then it ends.

Chapter FourGlass crunches sharply in the silence of the tunnel. It is very quiet and very cold compared to the interior of the train. Darkness stretches away on either side, broken only by the dim fluorescent light that spills from the shattered windows of the train car.The young man is crouching beneath the tilted window of the train.“Careful,” his voice is almost a whisper as he reaches up to help the woman slide from the frame. He has taken off his jacket and wrapped it around his hand, using it to brush away the remaining pieces of glass.The woman lights gingerly on the concrete, avoiding the shards that litter the floor of the tunnel. The two of them stand for a moment, surveying the wreck that fills the dim passageway. The sound of the other passengers still crouching inside is a faint buzz.“Alright. You ready?” the young man shakes out his jacket. It is stained with blood. The woman’s blouse is also bloody, but it isn’t all hers. She clutches at her shoulder.“Yes, but I’m not sure which way to go.”“Uh…well, neither do I. Guess I wasn’t paying attention how far it was to the next station.”There is a pause. Feet shuffle in the stillness, and there is a clatter as the young man sidles around the side of the train. He rounds the corner but stops suddenly, looking down at his feet. More blood there. He shudders visibly, turns, and goes back.“Um,” his voice is more distant now, “let’s just head this way. We’ve…we’ve got to pick one direction.” His voice is shaky, and he swallows hard.“Yeah…okay, Ian. I…I don’t really want to go around there either.”“Okay, good,” relief is evident in his voice. “Let’s, uh, let’s get going then.”They climb over the twisted rails to reach the wall of the tunnel, stumbling a bit in the half-darkness. The sound of their shuffling footsteps fades away.I can’t hear them anymore.I struggle then, and feel my hands clench suddenly very tight. My face is a mask of pain, and there is blood in my eyes, but I know the pain cannot bind me for long.The second attack had been worse than the first. I almost hadn’t been able to resist. Almost. I did resist though. My will was still strong, and I showed it. But the struggle had been fierce. It had strained the walls of the tunnel, bent the metal of the train itself.I honestly hadn’t expected the windows to shatter—neither of us did. It had worked in my favor though. It had gotten me out of the train. It had given me time.The first attack had been so sudden. I had not expected it at all. The thing was very powerful by now. An earthquake...the whole east coast maybe. All to catch me off guard, leave me helpless. Incredible.It’ll be back though. It went with the two for now—the woman and the kid. It latched onto the kid early. I know it did. It had tried to keep him here, but he had some strength of will in him. It’ll feed soon though. The girl was injured. It’ll probably go for her first. Then it’ll be back here. I have to stop it.The sharp jolt that courses through me is hard to take, and my abdomen spasms hard. My teeth clench, and I almost bite my tongue in two, but then it’s over, and my heart is beating hard and fast, rushing blood through cold veins.I wheeze and sit up, straining to lift one arm. It’s dislocated, but that isn’t a problem. The head-wound is harder. It makes me dizzy, but I have to get up. Have to get moving.The darkness whispers on either side. It tempts me…tempts me to just lie down. Lie back down, don’t try anymore.No, I will not answer it. I stand up on unsteady legs. The people in the train do not see me. My clothes are torn. I wipe the blood from my eyes with my good arm.Time to go. --- For a second, it looked like a light winked on in the distance. I shake my head.“Did you see that?”“What, Ian?”“That light. I thought…” Maybe my eyes are playing tricks.“Did you see a light?” Alex replies, “Maybe the power is still on down there.”“I’m not sure. I thought I did.”“Let’s keep going then. It can’t be much farther.”I hope it isn’t much farther. It’s cold down here, and I think the darkness is starting to get to me. The surface of the tunnel wall is smooth against my right hand, and every now and then I feel a cold metal pipe or conduit bolted to the concrete. I tried counting them at first, but I’ve lost track. It seems like we’ve been walking for hours.At one point, I put in one of my earphones. Sort of instinctive, I guess. But then I thought it’d be kind of rude to listen to music with her behind me. All the same, I kept one earphone in. It was kind of a relaxing feeling, after all the craziness today…“So, Ian,” her voice finally breaks the awkward silence, “what were you going to do today? You know, before all this happened.”She’s trying to keep things light-hearted. Small talk—that sort of thing. I don’t like that, usually. But right now, it’s probably good.“I, uh, I was heading home, actually.” I grimace in the darkness. Home. Yeah right.“Oh, I guess your parents will be worried.”“Probably not,” I say with a bit too much sarcasm.“What?”“Uh, nevermind. Yeah…my dad—I don’t really want to talk about it.”“Oh…um…okay.” She fumbles a bit, and I feel bad. Shouldn’t have said that.“So, no school today?” she changes the subject. “I mean, you’re in school, right?”Great. I know she means no harm, but what am I supposed to say? Yeah, I ditched school today. On a whim. Whatever…“School was out early,” I lie. It feels wrong right now. Shouldn’t be lying at a time like this.“Wow, it’s funny how that works,” she says. I can tell she’s smiling now.“Huh?”“I said it’s funny how that works. You know, if school hadn’t got out, you wouldn’t be here.”It’s true. I wouldn’t be here. None of this would have happened to me.“It’s the same for me,” she continues. “I wasn’t supposed to be on this train either. I was going to see my sister. I didn’t know she was visiting until this morning, even.”“Wow.”I can’t think of much else to say. That’s how it works, I guess. And after all, it means I brought this upon myself. I had decided to ditch today. I don’t even know why. I’m not usually like that.“Oh hey! There is a light up there!”Finally a change! She’s right. I can see it too. I’m not going crazy. Just up ahead, around another curve in the tunnel.“Let’s go!” I say. “Maybe there’s an access door or something.”We both pick up the pace, making sure not to trip over the metal rails. Almost there…Suddenly, a noise breaks my concentration. A crackling noise. Static. What the…It’s my earphone. Still in my ear. It’s crackling like crazy. I yank it out and shake my head. Weird. Maybe they’re broken. We round the bend in the tunnel, and there’s the light. It’s an old fluorescent bulb mounted in the ceiling. Cobwebs everywhere. No doors or anything though. Still, it’s nice to be out of the dark.“Ian.”Alex’s voice is taut, harsh. I whirl around. What is it?She’s standing in the middle of the passage, staring down the tunnel. Her eyes are wide, and I can almost feel the fear coming off her.“Whoa, what’s the matter?” I move toward her. What is she looking at——And then I see it.It’s black. A wall of blackness. The whole tunnel is covered in it. I rub my eyes. Still there. This is definitely not normal. The hair on my neck prickles.“Holy…” I don’t even finish the thought. Alex is moving toward it. Her hand is outstretched, fingers rigid.“Whoa, stop! What are you doing?!” I yell.“Don’t touch it!”I don’t know what it is, but it’s not good. My earphones are crackling louder. I can hear them even though they’re not in my ears. What is going on?I leap forward, grabbing her shoulder, but she resists, twisting away. Stop! Stop! Fear is rising in my stomach, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. This can’t be happening. I reach out again, grabbing her around the waist, trying to pull her back.And then she touches it, and she’s gone.I cry out as I fall forward. She’s gone. Gone! I think I can hear her scream, echoing from far away. My eyes are closed. I’m breathing hard. What is happening to me?It feels like something is holding me down, a pressure in my head. Images flash in my vision…and there’s a figure. Thick and hunched…It’s my dad. His eyes are glazed over, drunken and stupid. He says something, but I don’t understand. I can feel that he wants something. He wants something from me. No. No!He lunges at me, and I scream——and then it’s over, and I’m stumbling back up. Something has me by the shoulder. A grip like iron, dragging me back, whirling me around. I’m helpless, can’t get away. It lets go abruptly, and I fall to me knees. My eyes are suddenly clear, and the sight of what stands before me makes my breath catch in my throat.It’s him.It’s the dead man.He’s alive.This cannot be real.Terror roots me to the spot. I can’t even scream. His clothes are torn, his arm still twisted, but he’s there. His face is bloody, but the wound on his forehead is gone. This can’t be real. It can’t be!“It’s real, kid.” The man’s voice is hard, deep.“Y-you,” I start breathing again. I can hardly speak, “You were—you were dead!”I stagger back. My stomach is turning somersaults. The man moves forward suddenly, faster than I would have thought possible. He grabs me by the shoulder and leans in. There’s something in his eyes that makes me stop resisting. It’s like he’s searching for something…searching me.“H-how?” I stammer, shying away. Confusion clouds my mind, “What do you want?”“What do I want?” he asks, almost laughingly. He lets me go, as if satisfied. “I want out. But it won’t let me.”It. I feel fear surge through me again, and the horrible image of my dad rises up for a moment. It. What was it?“How…” I can’t think right now, “How are you still alive? I saw you—”“—I know what you saw. Yeah, it almost had me there. It took the girl, didn’t it?”The man looks past me at the horrible black wall, frowning. Oh God…it had taken Alex. What was happening here?“It would’ve got you too. But it doesn’t want you. Not really.”“What does it want, then?” I ask, grasping for words. I’m tired, so tired. I can’t believe this is happening, but it feels so real.The man shrugs.“Me,” he says. “I can’t die, kid.”“I can’t die, and it wants me.”

Guess I'll jump in here:The End, by Tolkien.Much obliged.JRRT

: 1.4 : : : “Remember, creature.”“Perhaps then you will learn to listen...”The Hau faded into the starlight as Takanuva moved away, its eyes glittering with a knowing look as it flickered and vanished.The wind began to moan again as Takanuva jogged off down the ruined track of the road. His focus was now turned to a new duty—a new goal. He was running out of time. He felt the urgency of his plight keenly now. He would have to finish this task quickly if he was to continue.Before him, along the horizon, the silver light rose up into the towers and spires of a vast city. A City of Silver. The stars paled in comparison as he ran briskly down the winding track. Here and there to the side of the road a stone pillar loomed among the trees, and sometimes he glimpsed the remains of ruins deeper in the forest, broken and buried beneath ancient dust and the winding of dead roots.The forest ended abruptly before the walls of the Silver City. Straight from the earth it rose, smooth and glass-like. Takanuva approached and ran a hand along the surface. It was almost frictionless. Impossible to climb, for sure. The metal or crystal of which the wall was made glowed with an inner light, filling the sky above him with its silver radiance.He turned back to the road. Now he saw that it wound its way parallel to the wall, vanishing in the dusk to his right. He followed it, moving more slowly now, staff in hand, ready for anything he might meet.After a while, he found that the roadway was paved. Closely-fitted stones made the path straight and even. The stones were well-carved, bathed in the same silver light as the city. No Po-Matoran could do better...For a moment, faced with memories rising in his mind, Takanuva felt the strangeness of his situation. Lost in a dead forest in some Mata Nui-forsaken land, searching along a glowing road beside a glowing city. He certainly never expected to be doing this.A sound broke his reverie—the noise of shouts. He realized that he had slowed to a walk, but now he quickened his pace. There was a commotion ahead. Some kind of uproar. He squinted through the dimness, around the curve of the wall. This must be the danger the Hau had spoken of.He would find out soon enough.Takanuva left the roadside and hugged the wall closely, sidling along it, covered in the radiance of it. As a Toa of Light, light itself could be his camouflage here.Suddenly a noise came from behind him—on the road to his left. Something was hurrying past along the paved way. It was a small figure—a Matoran?“No...” he thought, “Not a Matoran, but strangely close.”The small figure dashed away along the track. It was clad in some kind of armor—shades of dark red and purple. Takanuva couldn’t tell if it was wearing a mask or not. It certainly reminded him of a Matoran.He had to follow it. Stealthily, carefully, he moved along the length of the wall, craning his neck to see around the smooth bend of the silver barrier. The small creature vanished along the road, trotting steadily along.The sounds were growing louder now, and the Toa thought he heard the noise of metal clashing on metal. Voices were raised in anger. He sped up, almost running now, close against the wall. Almost there——And then he saw it. A creature! It was huge: a hulk of silver, metallic armor. It lumbered across the road in front of him, and Takanuva saw that it was surrounded by a host of the smaller creatures, crowding around it. They were shouting, gesturing. Some of them thrust small spears at the massive beast, crouching low to jab at its underside.The silver beast gave a deep groaning roar and lashed out with one of its great claws, scattering the smaller beings like dry leaves in a wind. Takanuva left the wall, strafing out across the road now, careful to keep out of the creature’s line of sight. He saw that he had reached the gate of the city: it was open. Two great doors swung inward, all metallic silver, except that both were scarred with black marks—claw marks?“This is it,” Takanuva thought. “This must be what I have to do...”The Hau had said that the city was threatened—threatened from outside the walls—and here was a beast attacking the city. It seemed almost too simple.Takanuva smiled grimly, readying himself. He turned back to the city, reaching out a hand toward the gleaming walls. He might be drained of his full power for now, but he didn’t have to be the light source in order to use it.As he watched, the great beast lashed out once more, driving the smaller beings back. One of them took the opportunity to hurl a spear, catching the creature between two armor plates. It roared suddenly and charged the contingent of smaller beings, who scattered as it barreled headlong down the road. Mouth gaping, eyes wide.Straight toward the Toa of Light.Takanuva made his move then. Focusing his remaining power, he drew a surge of light out of the city walls, a flashing conduit of radiance spreading into his form as he unleashed it full into the beast’s face.The massive creature swerved away from Takanuva, rearing up as the blinding flare seared its eyes and singed its armor. The Toa leapt to the right, crouching on the gravel beside the road, ready for any attack.But no attack came. The beast continued in its headlong rush, stumbling away from the road as it dashed madly into the trees.Its groaning roar faded into the distance as Takanuva listened, slightly out of breath. He smiled, proud of his success, and turned back toward the gate of the city. : : : Review :

WttV Entry 1.4 “Remember, creature.” “Perhaps then you will learn to listen...” The Hau faded into the starlight as Takanuva moved away, its eyes glittering with a knowing look as it flickered and vanished. The wind began to moan again as Takanuva jogged off down the ruined track of the road. His focus was now turned to a new duty—a new goal. He was running out of time. He felt the urgency of his plight keenly now. He would have to finish this task quickly if he was to continue. Before him, along the horizon, the silver light rose up into the towers and spires of a vast city. A City of Silver. The stars paled in comparison as he ran briskly down the winding track. Here and there to the side of the road a stone pillar loomed among the trees, and sometimes he glimpsed the remains of ruins deeper in the forest, broken and buried beneath ancient dust and the winding of dead roots. The forest ended abruptly before the walls of the Silver City. Straight from the earth it rose, smooth and glass-like. Takanuva approached and ran a hand along the surface. It was almost frictionless. Impossible to climb, for sure. The metal or crystal of which the wall was made glowed with an inner light, filling the sky above him with its silver radiance. He turned back to the road. Now he saw that it wound its way parallel to the wall, vanishing in the dusk to his right. He followed it, moving more slowly now, staff in hand, ready for anything he might meet. After a while, he found that the roadway was paved. Closely-fitted stones made the path straight and even. The stones were well-carved, bathed in the same silver light as the city. No Po-Matoran could do better... For a moment, faced with memories rising in his mind, Takanuva felt the strangeness of his situation. Lost in a dead forest in some Mata Nui-forsaken land, searching along a glowing road beside a glowing city. He certainly never expected to be doing this. A sound broke his reverie—the noise of shouts. He realized that he had slowed to a walk, but now he quickened his pace. There was a commotion ahead. Some kind of uproar. He squinted through the dimness, around the curve of the wall. This must be the danger the Hau had spoken of. He would find out soon enough. . . .Read on. JRRT

Hey thanks for the review. Much appreciated.One of my goals in writing the description was, in fact, to try to avoid mentioning that the character is old, so that the purpose of the "preparations" remains somewhat of a mystery until the end. Glad to know it was successful. Thanks again. This was definitely an enjoyable contest overall.JRRT

A Story, by iBrow Hearts Rarity, reviewed.JRRT

Hello iBrow Hearts Rarity. You requested it, and now it’s time—time for an official SSCC review. Brace…yourself?-----------I’ll start with what I think works the best in this story: the pace of the narrative and the reactions of your main character. The sense of disorientation and horror is conveyed quite well through the disjointed nature of your character’s thoughts and his/her struggle to understand what is happening. All very effective—description, pacing, etc. Together, these aspects certainly make for an interesting read. I didn’t notice any major typos or grammatical errors either, so I’ll give you high marks for writing structure overall. Nicely done.The main area where I think this story could be improved is the conclusion. I can understand how the “point” of the story might be to leave the reader in a state of mind similar to that of the main character (namely disoriented), and I think you have accomplished that.The problem is that there is no “pay-off” for the reader—no real resolution. The tension in the story seems to be building toward something, and yet nothing actually resolves. Instead, we’re left just as mystified as we were at the beginning.Now, I’m not saying that, in order to improve this, you need to actually reveal anything more about your character or the circumstances that led up to the time of the story (since the absence of these things seems to be an element of what you were trying to convey here). But I do think that there needs to be some kind of closure. Even having the Matoran black out could be effective. There are an infinite number of ways to do it, and it’s up to you how you want to go about it. I simply know that, as a reader, the ending left me quite unsatisfied, especially since the story seems to be slowly leading toward some kind of clarity. The introduction of the Toa at the end made me think there would be a hint of resolution, but it ultimately falls flat.That is my main suggestion narrative-wise. Again, I think your writing style and sense of description are very good and effective at drawing the reader in. With some finessing, this could make a gripping short story.As for the title, might I humbly suggest…Confused? That does seem to be a consensus reaction…just kidding.(or am I?) JRRT

@Matt: Great ideas there. I actually had something very similar in mind, whereby the semantics of the adjective nui change according to its syntactic placement. We'll see if I ever get to it though. =P Nice to see that people still take an interest in this project.

Departure, Loss, and Arrival, by Despair--all reviewed.JRRT

Hello, Despair (wow, that sounds…metaphorical). Here is one of three flash fiction reviews from the SSCC! Owing to its three-part nature (and the short length of the story at hand), this should be more of a “mini-review.” That is, unless I get carried away. We’ll see.---------Story: "Arrival"First impressions: Quite a grim take on the classic ‘Arrival of the Toa’ story. I think it fits the Alternate Universe theme quite well. Although you have limited space, I think you’ve used the words you have very effectively. The sudden twist at the end of the first paragraph and the lines that follow are wrenching and eerie, and they add a very dark tone to the story overall. Nicely done.Critique: In terms of writing structure, I don’t see much that I would change. There’s some good description, particularly at the beginning, describing the surroundings of the cylinder, and then throughout as you note the reaction of the wildlife to Tahu’s emergence.One point that might be improved is the progression of the action in the following section: When I read this portion, I felt like it needed to be more abrupt—more of a shock for the reader. As it is, the process of Tahu raising his sword, pointing at the forest, the “reaction” of the forest, and then finally the occurrence of the action seems a bit too slow.You might improve this simply by delaying the point at which Tahu raises his sword and making it coincide with the blast of fire. The trick is to slowly increase the tension until it finally snaps.Other than that, this is a tightly written tale. Well done!One nitpick, though: JRRT

Hello, Despair (wow, that sounds…metaphorical). Here are two of three flash fiction reviews from the SSCC! Owing to its three-part nature (and the short length of the story at hand), this should be more of a “mini-review.” That is, unless I get carried away. We’ll see.---------Story 1: “Loss”First impressions: A touching scene, and an excellent snippet of interaction between characters. I think this fits the contest theme nicely as well, due to the fact that it is actually the introduction of two characters—one supposedly familiar (the main character) and one unfamiliar (the man with the hat/tattoo). The minimalistic description of the environment and characters is also, I think, appropriate and effective, serving to help focus in on the characters themselves.Critique: One criticism I do have involves the dialogue. It’s not quite consistent throughout, and I didn’t really get a sense of either character through the dialogue. That is, neither character was quite distinguishable through their dialogue, and because most of the content of the story is conveyed through dialogue, this diminishes the effect of the story overall. Sometimes it’s good to use some feature of speech or turn of phrase to set one character apart—perhaps make one character’s speech very clipped and minimal, while the other is more talkative.This difficulty in distinguishing between characters made it slightly confusing at the end of the story. In the end, I’m not quite sure who says the last line of dialogue. It seems like it would be the hat-wearing man, since he says “thank you,” etc., but he introduces himself as a doctor, and therefore I must assume it is the main character of the story instead? This passage at least could use some clarifying.Otherwise, a very evocative and emotional story! Nicely written.---------Story 2: “Departure”First impressions: This is an interesting and introspective little story, and deals with a problem that most people will face at some point. It certainly follows the theme of the contest, since the element of “preparation” plays a great role. No mistakes that I can see, and, in all, it’s a nice snapshot of an important scene in your character’s life.Critique: I have to say, though, that of the three flash fiction entries I’ve reviewed, this is probably my least favorite. This is mainly because it has no real action and no definite resolution. The former point involves mainly the means by which the story is structured—too much telling and not enough showing. The single point of action that occurs in the story is when your character leaves the room and encounters his (his?) family. As a reader, I’m told what happens, but I think it would be much more effective to be shown your character’s interactions—perhaps even with a line of dialogue or two. The issue of your story’s resolution is probably not as crucial in light of this, but it would certainly be nice to see some change in your character’s intentions at least.…or maybe the problem is just that every time I read the word “goodbye” I had the Beatles saying “I say hello” in my head...That could be it.All in all, it’s still a well-written piece though—don’t get me wrong. With some alteration, this could definitely make an effective piece of short fiction.---------And that concludes this (these) review(s). It’s been a pleasure. Keep on writing. It’s been great reading what you’ve done here, and I certainly look forward to more.JRRT

Ever Up He opened the door wide on creaking hinges, letting the orange light of evening spill across the floor of the hut. The windows followed, shutters flapping open in the breeze that was just now rising over the empty prairies from the north. It blew gently through the hut as he busied himself with other matters, shuffling about on aching knees.First, he swept. A slow task with the thatch-broom that he always kept in the corner. Dust rose in little clouds as he worked, glinting in the sunlight before the wind snatched it up and away.When that was finished, he turned to the furniture. Not much: only a wooden table and chair. These he dusted, straightening the small collection of books on the tabletop, and put away the pewter dishes that lay scattered about. They would be useless to him on the journey. He smiled faintly, though, as he touched the books. They were dear to him. He would miss them.Next, he hobbled outside, leaning on a stick that he had used for many years. Rounding the hut, he made his way up the hillside behind. There, he looked upon the pens of sheep and goats that he had tended for so long. A hermit must keep himself busy, after all, and what else was there to do on the open prairie but tend the animals and read and think? What more indeed?He wheezed a bit as he stooped to lift the latch of the main pen. The gate swung open, and he tied it to a stake so it would not shut. Within, the livestock shuffled around but did not leave the safety of the pen. They held together, looking back at him with dark eyes. Sad eyes. He smiled at them, always grateful for their simple, silent company.The descent from the hill was harder in the twilight. The hut seemed grey now, thatched with colorless reeds, fluttering in the wind. He stopped when he reached the door again, looking out into the distance.South, he looked, and then west. The wind stung his eyes as he turned to the north, and he shielded them with one trembling arm. Soon, now. Soon he would go. The thought sent a shiver through his aged body, and suddenly he wept, for he was lonely. Here in the desolation of the prairie, with only the sheep and goats to keep company, he was lonely at last.He had chosen this solitary life for himself, but now…now he longed for something else. He longed for speech and company…warmth on a cold night.Soon he would go. Yes, very soon, and he was ready.His hand gripped the wooden stick tightly as he turned from the door, leaving it thrown open to the prairie and the fading sun. With faltering steps he moved towards the chair, wheezing as he lowered himself into it. He wore a weathered cloak, and on his feet were traveling boots.Now all was prepared. Yes, now was the time.The hermit lay back as the sunlight fell away, and night crept up from the west. His eyes closed……and abruptly he went out…out from the sheltered place into that greater night where there are no stars. A dry land, with dark hills rising to a darker sky…But above those hills, fitful and half-lost in the darkness, it seemed that a pale light flickered faintly.Now suddenly he started forward on strengthening limbs, casting aside the walking stick, for he may now climb those deathly hills without weariness…climbing…climbing ever up.Ever up, toward the light. End ------------Hi folks. Officially, this is an entry for the Flash Fiction Marathon, following the theme "Preparation." Unofficially, this is the first COT short story I've posted on BZP. Funny how that works. It's a sad kind of story, but not, I think, too dark in the end. I hope you enjoy. Leave a comment or critique if the desire moves you. All such things are appreciated.JRRT

Great job on this contest, guys. It's great to see so much writing creativity going on 'round here.------------Member Name: TolkienTheme: PreparationWord Count: 600Story: "Ever Up" Ever Up He opened the door wide on creaking hinges, letting the orange light of evening spill across the floor of the hut. The windows followed, shutters flapping open in the breeze that was just now rising over the empty prairies from the north. It blew gently through the hut as he busied himself with other matters, shuffling about on aching knees.First, he swept. A slow task with the thatch-broom that he always kept in the corner. Dust rose in little clouds as he worked, glinting in the sunlight before the wind snatched it up and away.When that was finished, he turned to the furniture. Not much: only a wooden table and chair. These he dusted, straightening the small collection of books on the tabletop, and put away the pewter dishes that lay scattered about. They would be useless to him on the journey. He smiled faintly, though, as he touched the books. They were dear to him. He would miss them.Next, he hobbled outside, leaning on a stick that he had used for many years. Rounding the hut, he made his way up the hillside behind. There, he looked upon the pens of sheep and goats that he had tended for so long. A hermit must keep himself busy, after all, and what else was there to do on the open prairie but tend the animals and read and think? What more indeed?He wheezed a bit as he stooped to lift the latch of the main pen. The gate swung open, and he tied it to a stake so it would not shut. Within, the livestock shuffled around but did not leave the safety of the pen. They held together, looking back at him with dark eyes. Sad eyes. He smiled at them, always grateful for their simple, silent company.The descent from the hill was harder in the twilight. The hut seemed grey now, thatched with colorless reeds, fluttering in the wind. He stopped when he reached the door again, looking out into the distance.South, he looked, and then west. The wind stung his eyes as he turned to the north, and he shielded them with one trembling arm. Soon, now. Soon he would go. The thought sent a shiver through his aged body, and suddenly he wept, for he was lonely. Here in the desolation of the prairie, with only the sheep and goats to keep company, he was lonely at last.He had chosen this solitary life for himself, but now…now he longed for something else. He longed for speech and company…warmth on a cold night.Soon he would go. Yes, very soon, and he was ready.His hand gripped the wooden stick tightly as he turned from the door, leaving it thrown open to the prairie and the fading sun. With faltering steps he moved towards the chair, wheezing as he lowered himself into it. He wore a weathered cloak, and on his feet were traveling boots.Now all was prepared. Yes, now was the time.The hermit lay back as the sunlight fell away, and night crept up from the west. His eyes closed……and abruptly he went out…out from the sheltered place into that greater night where there are no stars. A dry land, with dark hills rising to a darker sky…But above those hills, fitful and half-lost in the darkness, it seemed that a pale light flickered faintly.Now suddenly he started forward on strengthening limbs, casting aside the walking stick, for he may now climb those deathly hills without weariness…climbing…climbing ever up.Ever up, toward the light. End

Once Whole -][- The darkness within the tent was complete—a shade so thick that not even the strong light of dawn breaking above the trees could enter in. It seeped out through the seams and the thick tent-flaps, stilling the air about the encampment, draining the color from the earth and sky. It was a pure darkness. But it was not empty.Two eyes flickered in the lightless space. Crimson and piercing, they stared through slitted eyeholes, but they did not look outward, for there was nothing to see.No, they looked inward on this day—deep within, seeking, searching…eons of memory laid out before their gaze, for it was on this day that the world would be changed forever, even if that change began in a single mind…His mind.The War had gone well. The might of the Brotherhood was strong, and knowledge was their ally. It had always been their ally, and so the struggle against the League of Six Kingdoms was decided by superior tactics, greater strategy, more cunning battle-plans. These six pretenders could not hope to stand against the Brotherhood’s best. It had been folly to try, even if they were Mata Nui’s “chosen.” They had given up that title long ago, and now the Brotherhood must restore order and control, by whatever means necessary.And for many years he had been content in that task, content to wage war with the enemies of the Brotherhood and the Great Spirit. But of late, a feeling had been growing in his mind…a sense of foreboding, as if something was not right with the world, or not right with himself. In truth, he had felt it for a long time, but only now, now at the end of his labors in this war, did it become a sense of urgency, of insistence, a sense of, dare he say it, fear.It had begun as a whisper, a slim suspicion, creeping into the back of his mind, and for so many years he had ignored it, put it aside. The world had been bright and open—full of opportunities to discover what was not known. He had thought that, in time, all things would be made clear.But…the years had passed, and still the whisper remained, taunting him. It was a simple thing, too simple: merely the feeling that something had been…held back. Something remained hidden to the sight of the Makuta. Something important, and he yearned to know what it was. Through all the centuries and millennia he desired it, but could never discover it. So it was that he came to a final conclusion: that whatever this thing was, whatever it was that was hidden from him and his brothers, it could only be the work of the Great Spirit. Mata Nui withheld something from them, or simply did not see fit to grace them with his knowledge. Either way, it gnawed at his spirit, and he would give anything now to gain what he did not have.It was for this reason alone that he had forsaken the usual pursuits of the Makuta, seeking instead arcane knowledge, unknowable things. He had looked past the barriers of the world, past the knowledge of the elements or the lesser powers…he sought something that went beyond all of them. And now…now he had found it.A vision sprouted within the dark mind of the Makuta…a vision of blackness…reeling…empty. At first it seemed like the blackness that filled the tent—cold and silent—but no, it was unlike. That darkness was elemental: it had substance, energy. This was a different darkness, a darkness that roared and raged and devoured. A darkness that was without substance. An Absence.“Yes,” thought the Makuta. Yes, he knew of it. In his search he had heard whispers, rumors, stories of fear and terror from the beginning of the world, and it had a name:The Void.The Void surrounded all. It was that which separated one thing from another. It was a paradox, for it was nothing. But as the vision grew and filled the space of his mind, the Makuta knew that here was true power: a power and a knowledge far beyond the petty command of the Elements. Here he would find what he sought: the knowledge that the Great Spirit hid from him. And knowing that…he would—But the thought went unfinished, for the vision changed. He saw a great light shining, far away. The intensity of it was painful, and he tried to avert his gaze, but could not. It grew, and now he saw that it was a sphere: white and pure and featureless. And then it resolved into color. It was a world…the first world. The Great Sphere…Whispers of legend arose in his memory. Spherus Magna…Paradise…the home of the Great Beings…There it hung in the midst of the Void. One dazzling speck against the unending blackness. Defiant, untouchable.But then…then he saw how the blackness invaded the Great Sphere. A sliver of shadow seemed to pass into the glowing circle, and it was marred. Smoke filled the skies of Paradise, and the Makuta watched as the Great Sphere shattered before him. The Void did its work, and what was once whole was now broken, undone.Three worlds remained as the vision faded, spinning desperately away in the emptiness. The Makuta felt himself sink back into the darkness of the tent, but he was no longer alone. A presence was there. A presence he had not felt before…a feeling of otherness. It was…unsettling…and it seemed to coalesce in the silence of the tent, speaking with words that had no sound. He did not understand them yet…not yet. The Makuta stirred, raising himself from the metal seat. He shook his head……but even as he let the elemental darkness dissipate, even as he turned to go…another vision flashed through his thoughts...six from one…once whole but now broken…six lights flickering out in a sea of darkness.And then it was gone. The tent flap fluttered in the cool wind of morning. The sentries straightened to attention as their commander stalked into the trees. He was ready now…the idea was taking shape. But not now. First, he had business to attend to.The trees thinned as he entered the main encampment. Soldiers stood to attention in ranks upon the central staging ground, encircling a group of six iron stakes driven into the ground.The Makuta strode forward until he stood before those stakes, and smiled as he looked down upon the six figures tied to them. The ones who had been called Warlords…now defeated. Indeed, once they had been a great force in the world—a unified power. But now…now he had broken that unity, and their power was nothing.“I am the Makuta,” he said to them, using his proper title. “You have rebelled against the Great Spirit. You have abused the power given you, and now judgment will be passed upon you.”“You cannot so easily snuff us out, Makuta,” said the one called Pridak. His eyes were bright, defiant. “Who are you to pass judgment on us? You who have destroyed just as much in this war?”The Makuta laughed, a deep, unseen laugh, and the Mask of Shadows flickered with terrible energy as he replied.“Destroyed? Indeed, for destruction is the payment for peace, for control. The enemies of the Brotherhood, the enemies of the Great Spirit—all these shall fall into destruction. For I have been given that authority…I AM destruction…”The Mask of Shadows pulsed as the Makuta looked into the heart of the Barraki Pridak and saw…saw his true plans for the universe. The eyes of the Makuta narrowed. He smiled faintly.“…and I WILL destroy you.” End -][- This was a wannabe contest entry for the Visions portion of the Flash Fiction Marathon. Didn’t quite make the word limit, so here it is in its own topic. You may have encountered the subject matter before (possibly in a previous story). Any comments, critiques, and/or evaluations are much appreciated.JRRT

Member Name: TolkienTheme: VisionsWord Count: 599Story: The Sight The Sight They were coming. He knew it. Faint footsteps in the hall…a sound of whispered voices…metal rasping against stone. He was discovered again, after all this time. He had to get away. They were coming!Shui bolted up from the bed, suddenly awake. His eyes snapped open, but there was nothing to see—it was night, and darkness filled the room. The street outside was still as he squinted through the shutter. No shadows moved down below. No sound in the hall.But they would be here. They were probably already on the way. If there was anything he had learned in the past century, it was to trust his dreams. Especially the nightmares.Quick and efficient, with skill born of repetition, Shui gathered his belongings: two small satchels and an iron staff. Nothing more. These days he had to be light, fast, and always ready to run.He turned to the door, listening carefully before moving into the corridor. He’d be gone before anyone knew.Down the winding wooden stairs. He dropped two widgets behind the innkeeper’s desk as he moved towards the entrance, then into the street.His heart raced, despite the fact that he had done this a hundred times. A century of running, and he was good at it too, especially with his Gift. But the Brotherhood was relentless—they did not give up. They needed him—especially him…all for their War against the Six Kingdoms.Many had been taken—some willingly, others not. After all, it was easy to go along with what the Brotherhood offered…too easy for some.“No…” Shui had told himself long ago, “No…I will not use this gift in the cause of destruction. The Sight was meant for greater things.”Through the empty streets he crept, down towards the harbor. His ears strained, listening for sounds of pursuit.But at length, he stopped to rest. Perhaps he had evaded detection tonight. Tomorrow would be a new day——a shock cut his thoughts short, and he fell headlong into darkness... : : : His eyes snapped opened. Nothing to see. He tried to move, but his hands were chained. It was a stone cell…a prison. So, he was taken…But before the horror of his situation settled in, a noise broke the stillness:Faint footsteps in the hall outside the cell…a sound of whispered voices…metal rasping against stone…flint striking steel. A flickering light flashed under the cell door.Sudden fear seized him, and Shui realized now that he had foreseen this. His own downfall…The door swung open, light flooding the cell as rough hands hauled him forward. There was a fire burning in the grate in the center of the chamber. But this was no rough hearth—it was an ornate censer, gilded with many symbols. The fire burning there was bright and hot, twisting and hypnotic.“So,” a cold voice pierced his thoughts, “after all this time…Shui the Seer.”Shui shivered at the voice of Toa Koh, lieutenant of Makuta Gorast.“It’s been quite a chase, Seer, but now…you must face your Duty to the Brotherhood.”“I know my duty, Koh,” Shui replied, defiant, “and it is not to your Brotherhood. My visions will not lead you to victory in war.”Shui sighed, shutting his eyes tight, “I will not help you.”“I never expected you would. But either way, you will cooperate.”Hands seized his head, and his eyes were pried painfully open, filling his field of vision with the burning, hypnotizing fire. The sacred flame filled his mind’s eye as the Sight took hold…And then the vision ended. End (it appears that inspiration does strike the same place twice. yay.)

Blah. Wrote an entry and didn't check the word limit. I assume 1300 words is way out of bounds, right? JRRT

To Take the Stars from the Sky, by D.A.V.E., reviewed.JRRT

Hi D.A.V.E., it’s time for an SSCC3 official review. Remember, you asked for it.-------First impressions: definitely an enjoyable read. You’ve got action, betrayal, a bit of romance. All of these combine to make a story that flows quite well overall. Your sense of description is very well developed, and as a reader that means that it’s very easy to form a rich picture of the scenes. There’s also a great deal of emotional content that is expressed quite well through the medium of your characters, all culminating as a satisfying backstory for your main character.However, as always, there is room for improvement, and that’s the point of writing a review! But you knew that already.----------Probably the main thing that could stand improvement here isn’t actually related to the structure of the writing. The vital areas such as description, pacing, dialogue, etc. are all well-crafted. Instead, as a reader, it was the development of your main character Tirus and his relationship with the female Vortixx that left something to be desired.Tirus seems to start out alright, he’s good-natured, unafraid—certainly not someone I as a reader would expect to turn bad. But he changes abruptly at the transition from the first to the second scene, becoming a hard, cruel, ruthless character. Despite the fact that this is blamed on his witnessing many deaths, the fact that none of these life-changing events is described makes this sudden, drastic shift in Tirus’s personality a bit unconvincing. Because of this, Tirus’s second change in personality at the end is also rather unconvincing. This second point may partially be due to the fact that the relationship between Tirus and “his lover” never seems to be explicitly established.Now, these might seem like harsh words, but I believe you have the potential here for a really great story with a few adjustments and finessing.The solution to the problem of Tirus’s character development is pretty simple, actually, and it involves the balance between showing and telling within a narrative. As it is, you as the author tell the reader how Tirus has changed, but nothing is actually shown that makes those changes real or effective. I’m thinking of this section as an example: Here, as a reader, I am told that Tirus changed, that he grew hard and lost his innocence, that his soul was twisted, and that’s all fine, because it’s true in the story. But as a reader I have to basically take you “at your word,” and therefore the changes you describe don’t have as much weight as they could. If you were instead to show the reader how these things occurred—perhaps by adding a sequence in the transition point including some brief examples of situations that changed Tirus—it would certainly make the emotional point hit home far more effectively.The second point I mentioned above has to do with the final scene of your story, when Tirus re-encounters the female Vortixx. Now, the actual change that Tirus undergoes in this scene isn’t bad at all—he’s overcome by remorse and guilt, etc. That’s fine, but the motivation for such feelings is not really convincing, because they are based on his love for the Vortixx, which, once again, is only told to the reader (i.e. in the first scene), rather than shown. The solution to this problem may be the same as for the first point—add something to show that Tirus has feelings for the Vortixx, other than the fact that he blushes upon their first encounter (). This might seem a bit petty, but the relationship between these two characters really is the crux of your story, and if it doesn’t work well, there are consequences for the rest of the narrative.----------And that’ll conclude this review. I’ll skip the nitpicks, since I didn’t notice any major typos and most things I did notice were stylistic choices on your part. Again, I think you’ve got a well-crafted story here, and it only needs some final additions to make a truly compelling tale. An enjoyable read, overall. Keep writing. I look forward to more.JRRT

Sign me up, yo. JRRT

You beat him with da bamboo stick.No no no...Dawn take you all!(bit slow on the draw, but hey...)JRRT