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 Posted: Sun May 10, 2009 4:01 pm
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Posted: Tue May 12, 2009 1:34 pm
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A_Trying_Writer:
Thank you, all of these are valid points.
First: Thanks, always good to begin a critique with an ego rub.
Second: I'll consider it, this is still the first draft after all.
Third: As I thought.
Fourth: Huh, this is odd, because I'm used to giving too much description. I guess in an attempt to lower it to a casual level I sheared off just a bit much. I'll work on balancing it.
Fifth: I was going to introduce this later, but he's dead. Part of being a, undead/ghost is easy acceptance of things, brought about by their loss of life.
Sixth: Yeah, emotion I'm not so good with, and this is what I'll need to work the hardest on. I would like to add that he did come out of it relatively uninjured, so she wouldn't have a breakdown over it.
To everyone else: Yeah, I've been lazy getting around to chapter three. I think I'm going to wait until school's out, which should be the first week of June.
Also, I just caught the odd formatting with Chapter II, that's fixed.
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2009 8:31 pm
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 11:48 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 7:00 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2009 6:46 am
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 7:22 pm
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Chapter III
The street seemed lifeless when Eric stepped out of the hospital. He was in the center of town, rows of buildings smashed together lay in front of him, but the street was nearly empty. The building were all made of brick, Cherill was a town that had yet to modernize itself. It was almost self-sufficient. It had it's own bank, it's own hospital, though it was more akin to a large clinic. The town even had it's own small law firm.
The streets were usually packed this time of day, it was only half past two. The sun was blocked by a long stretch of gray clouds. Usually Eric admired the lazy look the shade gave the town. Today however, it seemed eerie. Did I forget some holiday today? He wondered as he began moving down Main Street. The father he walked the more uneasy he became. Every shop he looked into had the employees working, but their movements seemed sluggish, as if none of them had gotten sleep.
Finally he stopped in front of the town's book store, Inklings. He wanted some answers, and he knew the owner, who also happened to be the only employee. George McCormick had been running the store for nearly twenty years. Single, and lonely, Eric struck him up on conversation every time that he took a look around the store.
The inside was typical of a book store, even if this one was smaller than most. Shelves covered nearly every inch of the walls, filled with books ranging from fantasy to political satire. Shelves also stood in the center of the rooms, holding various game books such as Dungeons and Dragons rulebooks.
George was standing right next the the entrance, apparently absorbed in adding new books to the helves. He carried the same sluggish look to him that the others Eric saw had. The middle-aged man was moving slowly. Not in a carefully, but in an absent minded way.
"Hey, George, did I miss something today? Is it some holiday?"
The man kept restocking shelves as if he didn't hear Eric. It wasn't clear if he didn't hear him, or was just ignoring Eric. Clearing his throat Eric tapped George on the shoulder.
"Hey, Geor..."
Eric didn't get any farther as George snapped up the second he was touched. He spun on Eric, looking quite pale. His eyes clearly showed that he had been startled.
"Jesus Christ Eric, you just took ten years off of my life, as if I wasn't aging fast enough already!"
Eric gave him a few seconds to catch his breath. He had never seen the man so frightened in his life. Whatever weariness had a grip on George before had vanished, as if it were never there.
"Where did you come in? The back? Christ, give me a heads up before you sneak in here again."
"George, I came in through the front, not ten feet away."
"Huh, I was watching it for customers. I must have gotten too into shelving to see you."
"Must have, anyway, is it some holiday today George? This place has been deserted."
"Deserted? Here I thought I was the one spacing out. This has been one of my busiest days Eric."
George swept his arm toward the back of the store for emphasis. When Eric glanced back he was surprised to find several people milling about that he hadn't noticed when he entered. There was nobody that he had recognized, still, it was something that he should have noticed when he entered.
"Say, Eric, what happened to you arm?"
George asked him, pointing to the cast that was on his arm. Eric didn't feel like explaining the events of the previous night. He also didn't feel like staying here much longer. The feeling of unease had left him, and he wanted to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. He had a lot of thinking to do.
"Oh, this? I tripped down the stairs leading to my room."
"You must really be out of it. Anyway, are you going to buy anything today? I just got a shipment of new releases."
"Sorry George, I think I'm just going to head home."
They said their goodbye's and Eric left. He immediately noticed that the streets were much more lively upon stepping out of the book store. The sun was no longer covered by clouds, and the uneasy feeling that he had carried was gone. It was a normal afternoon in Cherill once more.
Fifteen minutes later Eric was sitting in his living room. It looked fairly clean, with the occasional glass or plate laying around, but well kept other than that. He had a single couch with it's back against the room's only window, which overlooked Main Street. In front of the couch sat a table that was half of it's size, and half of it's height. Two books sat stacked on one end, with Nineteen Eighty-Four on the top. Beside those an empty bottle of whiskey sat upright. On the other side of the table the remains of a plate of hot wings. It was obvious that he was not expecting company.
There was no TV in the room, or any entertainment besides the books. There was a blanket on the floor at the foot of the couch, indicating that he slept there often. Aside from this the room was bare. There was a doorway leading to the kitchen, and laundry room, at the opposite end of the room. Across from the front door there was also a hallway, which had four closed doors along it's length. Overall it was a good sized apartment, but had an empty feel to it.
“I can't believe you sold our TV.”
“I didn't feel like watching it.”
“You love TV.”
“No, you love TV. I just happened to be held in a death grip while you watched it, every day.”
“You loved it on the inside.”
“Then why isn't it here?”
Linda didn't have a reply to that, so instead she sat down on the couch next to him. Eric was already getting used to her sudden appearances. She scanned the room with a bored expression. Eric had changed it little since she died. The couch and table were the same. The couch was in a different position, other then that it was they same. They didn't own much in the time that they were living together.
“I see that Brenda and Eddie are still living together downstairs. That's a surprise.”
“They're getting a divorce.”
“How surprising.”
The couple downstairs were an odd match. They had gotten married the day after they graduated from high school. Even Linda and Eric, who had gotten engaged at around the same time didn't expect the two's marriage to last, and they were right.
“I went and asked a friend in Sheol, Shoel's like earth, only the ghost version, anyway, he said that your particular circumstance has happened before, though it rarely ever occurs. He's doing research into it right now, they whole event is mysterious, or so he says. I'm sorry, but there's not much more I can tell you yet.”
Eric nodded, he didn't think that she would be able to find out much so soon. However, it was still more then he had figured out on his own. This had happened to others, so surely there was some solution to the problem. There weren't any ill effects so far, but that didn't mean that there weren't any. He wanted to stop being dead as soon as possible. Even if he was only partially dead.
“So, who's this friend of yours?”
“What, are you jealous?”
“Just tell me already Linda.”
“Fine, He's Dr, A. Mathewson. He was a professor when he was alive. Now he just researches for most of the day. It was he that I was sent to after I died, to learn about being dead. There's this whole complicated system, you'll learn about it later. Much later preferably.”
Eric nodded once more, satisfied. A professor would be able to get facts easily enough. Actual facts too, it was someone that could be relied upon to give him answers. At least he hoped that much. Eric didn't ask anything more after she had explained about Dr. Mathewson, and Linda didn't ask, or say anything else. They spent the next half an hour in silence. After nearly thirty minutes had passed Linda stood.
“He's here, Dr. Mathewson. Well, not here here, but in Sheol here. I'm going to go and speak with him. It'll only be a couple of minutes.”
“Now wait a second, what is Sheol exact...”
Eric got no farther. As he was speaking he had reached out and grabbed her. His hand passed through her, but in the second they made contact his senses were assaulted. He felt like his blood had suddenly turned to magma. Eric's vision turned white and his eardrums popped. The sensation only lasted a couple of seconds, but for those seconds he had wished he were dead.
When his vision returned he saw that he was in a clearing. Several hundred feet away a line of trees began, parted in the middle by some unseen force. A heavy mist filled the air, and the sky was covered in gray clouds. Eric was now physically holding on to a startled Linda, and a man that appeared to be in his mid thirties stood in front of them. His eyebrows were simply raised. He looked puzzled, but not shocked.
He wore an outfit that resembled a gangster from the 1920's. He was dressed in all black, with his dress shirt having stripes running down it. He wore no had, and his hair was cut just below his ears. He didn't have handsome features, but looked like he would have no problem with getting women. A pair of old spectacles rested on his nose, and his composure was completely professional. A classic gentleman.
“Hello Linda, and who I can only assume is the Eric that I've heard so much about. Welcome to Sheol.” |
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Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2009 10:08 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 11:20 pm
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Posted: Thu Aug 27, 2009 12:47 am
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Right, I'm not in position to say anything about grammar or suchlike, but I'm a little bit of a nazi when it comes to structure and repeating words.
First of all, great story, interesting idea and lots of possibilities. It'll be interesting to follow it. It have been a nice read so far 3nodding
Most of this stuff isn't very important, but it stops the flow of the story a bit.
Quote: rows of buildings smashed together lay in front of him, but the street was nearly empty. The building were all made of brick,
Change one of the buildings to some suiting synonym.
Quote: The streets were usually packed this time of day, it was only half past two. The sun was blocked by a long stretch of gray clouds. Usually Eric admired
Change one usually to normally or some other synonym?
Quote: It was obvious that he was not expecting company.
Don't underestimate the reader, we notice on the state of the room that he had expected to be alone, otherwise he wouldn't have left his leftovers there.
Quote: The couch and table were the same. The couch was in a different position, other then that it was they same.
This could be written smoother, ex: "The couch and table where the same, except that the couch was positioned differently"
There was one or two basic misspellings (had instead of hat) that you should spot when re-reading
I'll finish with saying that I really like how Eric is moved between the world of the living and Sheol when he touches someone. Please continue writing once you have time to :]
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Posted: Thu Aug 27, 2009 1:11 am
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 9:26 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 12:04 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 5:00 pm
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Reply
