Q&A: What Do You Think of This Beginning?

cloud platform
by wka

Question by : What do you think of this beginning?
Lynn, we know where you are. We’re coming for you, Lynn.
Lynn jolted out of bed, soaked to the skin with sweat. Someone had been whispering in her ear, she was sure of it. She ran to window and thrust her head out of it so hard she smacked it. Eyes watering in pain, she peered down at the darkened, lamplit street below. Something was moving behind the hedges that separated Number 4 from Number 5.
They’ve come to get me, was her first thought. They’ve seen me and are coming for me. She stood frozen beside the window, not daring to breathe.
She had known this would happen, and soon. Her secret would be found out before long, once HE got involved.
The thought of him turned her blood to ice and made her shiver all over. If he caught her, it would be the end…the end of everything.
What to do? She couldn’t hide. No, he would find her. He would seek her out; he always did. She thought of all those others who had given their lives to keep their homes and families safe…to no avail. He always won. He was unconquerable.
But she could run. Running away wouldn’t assure her safety for long, but it would be enough. Enough to save the people she loved, the people she didn’t.
Everything rested in her hands.
A rustle in the bushes. Lynn whirled around in time to see a figure in black disentangle himself from the hedge and hurl himself at the open window. Only two stories up. She could hear his rasping breath as he scrambled up the side of the house. She ran for the closed door. Someone jiggled the doorknob.
Time to act. Her heart beat in her mouth and she could feel sweat stream into her eyes as she threw herself back across the room and out the window. She slammed into the black figure, who caught her with one hand still clutching the side of the house. He had a firm hold on her neck.
She felt her pupils dilate in fear and her lungs collapse as he squeezed her windpipe. He was forcing the air out of her.
She didn’t have time to ponder death before it all went black. Rough, wicked laughter rang in her already ringing ears, and she could feel herself falling…falling…
SLAM! She gained consciousness at the touch of something cold and metallic beneath her. Her eyes were glued shut with salty, unshed tears of defeat. Her hair clung to her neck, sticky with sweat. She moaned and tried to roll over. At once, a lightning pain shot through her whole body. It was pain like nothing she had never experienced, never could have imagined. It branched off through her limbs and seared like lava in her stomach, then rushed to her head and clouded her mind, stabbed at her eyes and sliced open her chest. She let out an endless scream that she couldn’t hear. She could feel her eyes fly open, but all she could see was blinding white; it intensified her pain and made her sob like a newborn.
Then, quite suddenly, it stopped. Her breath caught halfway between her throat and lungs, and she was lost in a fit of uncontrollable coughing. She lifted her body, which had suddenly become unbearably heavy. The coughing ended, but the scratchiness in her throat remained, as well as the blankness of her mind. She gasped to get ahold of the cold, quivering thing she had become.
“It’s alright.” A honey-smooth male voice spoke in her ear. Gentle arms enfolded her, and she found herself grabbing for a hold. She buried her face in the unfamiliar chest. She could feel his calm, rhythmic beating. Her own heart was beating like a hammer.
The warmth of those arms comforted her so much, she felt like crying. And she did cry, sobbed, emptied rivers of tears into the stranger’s sweet-smelling shirt. Soft hands stroked her back. She trembled and quieted, let herself become absorbed in the movement of those hands. They were friendly hands, she decided, hands that could help her.
She hiccuped and steadied herself by wrapping her arms tight around the man’s neck. She shuddered and sank back onto the metal platform, then raised herself back up and pressed her lips against his ear. “You can help me,” she whispered; her voice was so faint and lifeless, he couldn’t hear her, although she wasn’t even a centimeter away.
“Help,” she tried again. Her voice quivered like the rest of her, and she sounded like a wounded cat, but he heard.
“Soon,” he whispered back. “Soon, you will be free. No more hunts.”
She loved the sound of his voice. It was the most entrancing thing she had ever heard, and it soothed her as much as his arms did.
“Soon,” she repeated. Her voice cracked. Her knees buckled underneath her.
“You have no idea how unique you are, Lynn.”
Lynn. That had been her name, hadn’t it? In another life, maybe? Or perhaps an hour ago. She felt as if she were under a spell.
She struggled for words, but couldn’t summon any new ones. The only words that made sense were the ones HE spoke. So she resorted to the only thing she could think of.
“Soon.” It was hardly a breath.
“Yes, soon,” he said, “after they perform a few tests. They’re very interested
Thank you, Beautiful Nightmare, I changed it.
Thanks, guys! I love getting answers to stuff like this. :) I did write it, yes. At about 2 in the morning on a whim.
Kay, the last little bit didn’t fit, so here it is:
“They’re very interested in you, Lynn.”
The spell broke.

Best answer:

Answer by Beautiful Nightmare
It’s great so far, but just one little point. Right at the beginning I suggest saying “Sweat soaked through to the surface of her clothes.” Saying “soaked to the skin with sweat” is a little confusing, since skin is what makes sweat in the first place!!!!

Apart from that, it is good, keep going!!

EDIT: I just read it through again… yep I was right, it really is fantastic!!! It sounds like the kind of book I could spend hours reading without putting down.

What do you think? Answer below!

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5 Responses to “Q&A: What Do You Think of This Beginning?”

Read below or add a comment...

  1. Caitlyn B says:

    It’s very interesting, whats it called?
    I’m writing a novel it’s called Wolven wish me luck?!

  2. Nikita says:

    that is incredible
    did you write that yourself?
    i recommend a book called deception point by dan brown if yu like mystery/thrillers

  3. skylight22c says:

    got me interested, what happens next

  4. nicole's got spirit says:

    I really like this! Mainly because at the start you could still keep the scared emotion when you added humor, too (:

    The only thing I found was at about half-way where you go ‘She didn’t have time to ponder death before it all went black. Rough, wicked laughter rang in her already ringing ears, and she could feel herself falling…falling…’ You say ‘rang’ in her already ‘ringing’ ears. Not exactly the same, but the repetition sort of annoyed me. And when you say ‘falling…falling…’ it seems like something you would say to mock it. Maybe just the one falling. You don’t have to do any of this, just some suggestions.

    Also, just under it you say ‘SLAM!’ Which sort of puts me off because you have correct spelling and grammar, and then there’s just capitals. Maybe just put it in italics on word.

    Like I said, I really liked this. It’s one of the few things that I’ve read on here and I don’t lose interest. Now I’m dying to know who the man is or what he is and why Lynn is ‘unique’. (: Thanks for the share, let me know if you decide to post more.

    ~Nicole.xx

  5. Kirska says:

    The frantic pace and thought at the beginning made me look away. I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s very difficult to read such short sentences over and over and get thrown into a pandemic like atmosphere of fear, dread, and no chance of winning. Starting with action at the beginning of a novel is difficult to pull off, and is the bane of a new writer’s existence.

    Example.

    John ran, faster than he thought he ever could. He stopped. The man was close. He ran again. This is it. He knows this is it. It’s over. The man was a foot behind him. His hand reached forward. Every muscle in John’s body became stiff. He was frozen in fear.

    It’s frantic, and stylistic, but see how much better it flows with different pacing:

    John ran, faster than he though he ever could. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he stopped himself. The ragged, white duster of the man was a silhouette in the darkness, and much closer than he thought. Slowly, John convinced his feet to move again, and gradually he increased his speed. His legs felt like deadweights underneath him. They wern’t moving fast enough. If he didn’t hurry–if he didn’t go faster, it was the end. He gave another fleeting glance over his shoulder, and every muscle in his body became stiff. The man was a foot from him, arm outstretched and inches from his shoulder. John wasn’t ready to give up, but it seemed his body was. He came to a stop, frozen in fear.

    It’s longer, but it also gives the impression of a steady run rather than a frantic crawl.

    But please, don’t let me depress you. The story idea looks extremely interesting, and I’d most likely take it off the shelf just to figure out what’s going on. It’s a great hook, but if it were less choppy it would be sharper.

    Best of luck. I’d love to see you published someday ( :) hopefully soon)

    William