Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Scrap or keep?
Since my school year ended today and I liked one of my English projects, I thought that I should get back into writing. What I wonder is, where to start? What I decided to do was use my English project as either inspiration or a start up for a plot. I feel like getting AG's opinion on this.
Anyways, this is the story that I hope to have viewed. I am open to criticism but really I want to know what I should do with it.
A mere contact with another species set off the time bomb that was discrimination, slavery, and religion-fueled exterminations. Humans were thought by many to be the one and only race to rule the cosmos. Manifest destiny on a greater scale, as it were. But in more of a counter-attack than a rebellion, the aliens thought to be inferior took over Earth. All in little more than a month it took for the once great civilization to fall.
A quiet, ominous wisp of wind breezes across the deadened, battle-worn landscape that was Toronto. Humanity has faltered, become crippled, and failed. All that remains are small pockets of pathetic resistance. Armed with rudimentary projectile weapons they make a desperate last stand against the inevitable. There are many different views to which the humans stand for. Some still feel that they could win, create feeble plans in desperate hope that something good will happen. Many have given up at this point, commit suicide. And there are the few that are driven by survival, these are the people that are born for the post-apocalypse. They are in their element and can make the hard choices. Such is the persona that is Eric Ricksoun.
He sits, thinking, questioning what he's done, what has happened, and what next. He must block out the first two if he wants to survive, it's what's next that matters. He is in an old homeless shelter, 20 by 30 feet, surrounded by three other people, all waiting, silent, on the edge of their seats, for the next words to be uttered.
"Why don't we check for some food?" The other two acknowledge this idea, then shift their heads back in the direction of the floor. Some of them mumble to themselves, relaying what just happened.
"Are we just going to forget about what just happened?" The same person asks.
"Simple, people died." These are the first words Eric has spoken for a half an hour, but they weren't what he had predicted. It's true though, seven people got killed, a mixed bag of disentigrators, explosions, and laser beams were thrown their way. An ambush. The survivors only eliminated one of there pursuers in the battle, by accident. Nobody expected it, or predicted how it could've unfolded. Nothing this bad. Now they are terribly outnumbered and outgunned.
"We have to leave, before we're found again." Nobody outright disagreed, just picked up their weapons and walked to the door. Outside the building there is an eerie quietness. Nothing moves, no noise about. Just the bodies of their comrades. They look at them, the lifeless corpses just blankly stare back. Rigor mortis has set in. Already they have begun to decay, their skin has greyed, and the life has been sucked out of them. Only dead for thirty minutes. The whir of hovercrafts make sound in the distance, getting louder by the second.
"Now is our time to leave." Eric whispers to the group. But before they could move, they are upon them. A black vehicle, the size of a sedan, with a large end turns the corner. The driver spots them and presses a button on the dashboard. Slowly, a funnel attached to a pole begins to rise out of the back. It's about the size of a small dog.
"Run!" Eric yells. Too late, he thought. As a foot wide laser beam fires out of the funnel towards the group. The purple-white ray singes the ground under it, and anything else in the way. One member drops to the ground, and quickly disentegrates into a pile of ash. Another had the displeasure of dodging half a second late and got struck in the foot. Eric watched in disbelief as the disentigration starts at the mans leg, and slowly eliminate the rest of his body. Eric hops a fence and begins climbing up a building. The last member looks around, sees nobody, drops his weapon, and puts his hands on his head. All that is rushing through Eric's head is adrenaline, survival, and to keep running. Eventually, he slows down, the stress, emotions, and fatigue kick in. He falls over and passes out. He lies, unconcious, in a parking lot. In one of the more hostile districts of the city.
When he awakes he finds himself in a pitch black room unable to move.He tries to move his arms and feels the binding metal that holds him. It isn't anything recognizable to him. Smooth, yet very sturdy. He tries to wrestle his bindings off but to avail. Eventually he tries to pass the time, but there is nothing that he can see to distract him. After a short period of time, his eyes adjust to the lack of light, but all he sees is the floor and the faint change from one wall to another. There seem to be nine walls. Not something you'd see in a normal building. He begins to connect things together. He realises the inevitability that he is captured and goes to sleep.
This forced sleep did little for him as he was woken after a few minutes in by a door opening. A hole in the wall opened and two beings walked in. All he could see were shadows. He could tell they were bipedal, five feet tall, and thin. They approach him and a light turns on. It's bright flourescent white. He flinches at the brightness and waits for his eyes to adjust. They are grotesque without their helmets on. Their mouth faces down towards the ground, opening to show many rows of sharp teeth. Their eyes sit somewhere between the sides and the front of their face. The head in general is the size of a bowling ball and without the features, it would resemble one. All this in a warped maroon colour with splotches of red around the main features, Eric can't tell what is blood and what isn't.
They just stare at him circling around him as he is suspended in the middle of the room. After taking in their looks, Eric begins looking at what is around him. The room is a deep purple with eight walls and a half dome ceiling. Hanging from it he sees some chains, holding a skeleton a foot above the ground. Under it is a large pool of blood on the ground. He looks at it and sees various body parts strewn across the scene. Among it he sees what looks like a mask. He begins too look harder and sees that it is someones face, he begins to recognize it. The person he left behind when they were found.
He begins to panic, scouring the room for ways out. He can't seem to find the way that the aliens entered the room. It seems to have dissapeared in the wall. All that accompanies him are the aliens and whatever they may hold, the scattered remains of his groupmate, and the shackles. Eventually he begins calculating his odds of taking the aliens out. Near none, considering that he can't move. He is helpless to them. He hears what seems like a silenced weapon, and fades out of conciousness.
He wakes up, but with a terrible timing, in the middle of a surgery. His surgery. He finds his stomach being cut open by a scalpel and begins yelling. This startles the aliens and he begins to run away. He doesn't know where he is going, or what he is trying to find, all he wants is to survive. This is a hard challenge however, being that he is bleeding out as he runs. He has roughly thirty minutes to live without medical attention. On a sheer stroke of luck, he finds a docking bay. I must be in a ship. He thinks to himself and runs to a small single person ship. A light begins to flash in the bay as he gets in the pod. It is accompanied by the doors in front of him closing. They close fast as Eric mashes on the control panel. Eventually he hits the right button and rockets out of the bay, taking some of the door with him.
His ship is not able to outdo the pursuers that leave the ship. They begin to overtake him fast. He can hear an anti-matter cannon charge up seconds before it strikes his ship. The ship ceases to exist as it was. Now, it is ash which floats in the wind. Nobody left to remember it, nobody to care.
This fate was one shared by the entire human race. The inability to comprehend others properly lead to a large scale extinction. Nobody has a right to anything, everything is a privilege. Nobody is entitled to anything, nobody is truly superior, something yet to be understood.. Everybody wants, needs, and desires the same thing. Survival. For it is this that is the true defining feature, whether you're alive or dead, that dictates everything that you do.
- 2 Replies
Wait did I get hooked onto it with the good story I say you keep, I stayed interested all the way plus it's well polished.
Thank you for your input!
New question: Should I start it over, new character, more stuff leading up to what I have now or just straight out lengthen this character's life while using the same starting point?
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