FreeMason
08-28-2009, 10:10 PM
So...I had this idea for a book. And I just now typed out the very beginning. I'd like to get some input from you guys, so here it is. Critique away!
Where am I? The question echos in my head. I'm sitting, chained, to
a metal chair.
Where am I? There's something - a bag, I think - covering my head.
It blinds me. It muffles the few, rare clicks, knocks, and other
sounds which might give me even the slightest hint as to where I
am. A musty smell fills my nostrils, but I can't tell if the smell
is coming from the room I'm in or from the bag, the prison, which
has been imposed on my senses.
Where am I? It's cold. But it's not from the metal of the chair,
which is surprisingly warm...almost hot. This chill isn't...how
should I say this...physical, I guess is a good word. It's the kind
of cold that shakes you to your core...freezes your soul, for
those of you who believe in such things. It's fear. I'm afraid of
everything and nothing all at once, because I know that beyond that
thin cloth that seperates me from my surroundings, either could be
waiting. Everything and nothing. Well, that, and a chair.
Where am I? The chair is my only comfort, and it's burning me. It's
metal...I think...and the air in the room is almost freezing...
why the hell is the chair hot? What the hell, what does it matter?
Where am I?
Where am I?
"WHERE AM I!?"
As I cry out, pitiful and scared, the bag is ripped from my face,
and I am thrown abruptly out of my small, empty world, into an
entirely new reality. Funny thing is, I'm still blind. But it's
not dark this time, it's light. Light...dammit, I wish it was still
dark.
As my eyes strain to focus, I manage to make out a shape...a man...
or, a sillhouette of a man...sitting between me and the light.
"Where am I?" I ask, as calm as I can, trying not to sound
frightened...as though my previous outburst hadn't already given
that away.
"You don't need to know that," the sillhouette responds. "Just be
thankful you're not already in the Block, and hope you have a good
explanation for your actions."
"What did I do?" I ask, again trying not to sound weak, or
vulnerable.
"You know full well what you've done," the sillhouette responds.
"And now, you will face your judgement. May God have mercy on your
soul," it says, "because we sure as hell won't."
Main question I have: Does this make you want to read more?
Where am I? The question echos in my head. I'm sitting, chained, to
a metal chair.
Where am I? There's something - a bag, I think - covering my head.
It blinds me. It muffles the few, rare clicks, knocks, and other
sounds which might give me even the slightest hint as to where I
am. A musty smell fills my nostrils, but I can't tell if the smell
is coming from the room I'm in or from the bag, the prison, which
has been imposed on my senses.
Where am I? It's cold. But it's not from the metal of the chair,
which is surprisingly warm...almost hot. This chill isn't...how
should I say this...physical, I guess is a good word. It's the kind
of cold that shakes you to your core...freezes your soul, for
those of you who believe in such things. It's fear. I'm afraid of
everything and nothing all at once, because I know that beyond that
thin cloth that seperates me from my surroundings, either could be
waiting. Everything and nothing. Well, that, and a chair.
Where am I? The chair is my only comfort, and it's burning me. It's
metal...I think...and the air in the room is almost freezing...
why the hell is the chair hot? What the hell, what does it matter?
Where am I?
Where am I?
"WHERE AM I!?"
As I cry out, pitiful and scared, the bag is ripped from my face,
and I am thrown abruptly out of my small, empty world, into an
entirely new reality. Funny thing is, I'm still blind. But it's
not dark this time, it's light. Light...dammit, I wish it was still
dark.
As my eyes strain to focus, I manage to make out a shape...a man...
or, a sillhouette of a man...sitting between me and the light.
"Where am I?" I ask, as calm as I can, trying not to sound
frightened...as though my previous outburst hadn't already given
that away.
"You don't need to know that," the sillhouette responds. "Just be
thankful you're not already in the Block, and hope you have a good
explanation for your actions."
"What did I do?" I ask, again trying not to sound weak, or
vulnerable.
"You know full well what you've done," the sillhouette responds.
"And now, you will face your judgement. May God have mercy on your
soul," it says, "because we sure as hell won't."
Main question I have: Does this make you want to read more?