Prologue - Rough Draft

[annundriel]

I promised Neesha that I would write her a story of her choice for her birthday. There were some things I refused to write, like the PotC/Farscape thing and the Muppets thing, but for the most part I gave her free range in her choice. I figured, okay, I can write a short story and have done with it. :)

And then I did something really stupid.

I shared a large paragraph-type thing with here that I had written in class one day (probably History or something *snore*). It has actually ended up kind of haunting me when I go back through notebooks, because the main character(s) stepped almost fully formed into my mind. And so did the look of the period and the world. This does not happen often for me. Or rather, it does, but it does not hit me so hard as this has seemed to.

At any rate, I'm posting the large paragraph-type thing because I can and because I'd like some input on the formatting (ie. possible paragraphs) as well as any other helpful suggestions and/or ideas. I'd also like to know if it's repetitive at all.


The ground was cold beneath her feet as she ran through the night. All was silent except for her belabored breathing and the dull clap of her bare feet as they hit the frozen earth beneath her. She did not know how long she had been running, but her muscles were on fire, begging for rest. Hearing no sound other than that which she was making, she slowed to a stop, allowing a moment to catch her breath and ease her aching body. Too late did she hear the calm, measured steps behind her; too late did she feel the chill of warning sparking up her back. Heart in her throat, she dared not turn and face her pursuer. At the soft touch of fingers on her neck, her already unsteady breath caught in her throat. The fingers turned harsh and unrelenting on her skin and soon she could not breathe at all. A sharp, blinding pain seemed to envelope her body before the hands released her. She dropped to the ground, the cold of death and winter seeping into her bones, the only warmth that of her life's blood flowing from her veins into the night air. The last sounds she heard was that of calm, measured footsteps fading in the distance and the ebbing of her own heart. Then there was nothing but silence.

Hmmm. I think I'd like to add more to it, come to that.

Comments

[annundriel.livejournal.com]

First off, thank you. :) I did intend for the contrast between hot and cold. When it was first written, it was actually set on a street in London with frost gathering on the cobbles. For some reason I decided the middle of nowhere was better...Character travel purposes perhaps. The contrast carries on in the cut to the next scene, where instead of being freezing and dying, the character (a different one) is warm and quite pleased with himself. (And I used the **** method! Which I love more than I ought.) I do love constrasts and opposites.

Now, I completely agree with the background info, but for the purposes of the story this is the start. The beginning is supposed to bring up questions as to who, where, and what. Even how to an extent. Because the dead girl is really pretty much unimportant. I killed her because I needed someone to die.

The overall plot has, I s'ppose, something to do with creepy things/people inhabiting a more stylized, goth-like London/England. There's a heroine, a mentor, a good if arrogant man, an uber-evil person-thing, and some other random kinda expendable people. There's a prophesy and there's angst and there's loss and (hopefully) scary stuff and it's all a bit cliched I s'ppose, but it's so very *there* in my head that I'm just going to go with it. So, yes, the whole "prologue" type thing is supposed to be the real catalyst for the main character(s) finally meeting and coming together.

That makes this a really long reply. Again, thanks for the comment. :) Much appreciated.

Not I, Fetus? Damn, and that's what I was aiming for! ;)