A Hellgate Epic

[hephaestus12]

Many of you may have read my "Scriptorium is a ghost town" thread and so now i'm even more convinced to make a fan fic myself so i don't look like a hypocrite and contribute a little to help bring the Scriptorium to life. Any posts are appreciated , especially constructive criticism, but i am concerned of one minor thing. Be honest on your opinion of the story. If you think it sucks, say so, if you think it's good, then say so. I'm afraid that some gurus will act like family members in that they just say you do a good job regardless of the grade of your work (you guys are my second family ;)). And just to let you know this is my first ever attempt at making a story except for mandatory school projects and some of you know how young i am so while you should be honest don't go overboard with flaming at my skill in writing. I think I'll be borrowing heavily from my life for some of it... And like in most stories it starts off slow but if you hang on long enough you'll get to the meat of it. Enjoy!

[hephaestus12]

Chapter one: Introduction

He dropped his book bag on the originally snow white tiles of his pre-algebra class, while dreading the forty-five minutes to come. His teacher had a reputation of being one of the two seemingly heartless teachers in his school, and she was best friends with the other sadistic teacher. She had held a grudge against the Ward family for years, which didn't make him like the wretched teacher or this treacherous class. She came in late as usual, perching in her chair protested with quiet creaks and seemed a little closer to snapping in two every time she plumped herself into it. He almost shuddered at the sight of her. For him school was hell, and being in a prep school didn't help his disposition, either. As she delved into the depths of equations and formulas he started dosing off, his eyes getting heavier and heavier as if Mrs. Darby were singing a lullaby. During math he almost always found himself sleeping or daydreaming, and the daydreams were always about the same thing, or rather the same person. He'd often just look at her to pass the time. He hadn't the courage to ask her out for fear of being rejected. He had always been timid and was slowly becoming more and more outspoken, and more popular, but asking someone out is the ultimate test of courage. Mrs. Darby realized that he was oblivious about her teaching, fast asleep, and yelled "DYLAN get up! You NEVER put your head down in my class! And get out your notebook! What are you thinking!?!". Dylan tried to argue that he had heard every word, but she refused to let him have the last word, but Dylan just let it go. He didn't care in the slightest, quite frankly he didn't give a shit about school period, even though Dylan was unusually bright. He scored in the higher than 99% of students in the nation on a standardized test, had photographic memory, and won a math contest the year before, naming him the best at math in his grade. The rest of the day went on as usual with the rest of his teachers yelling and he savoring the moment when the dismissal bell rang. At home it was a typical night, too. His step-father yelled at his mom, his mom yelled at him and his brother, and everyone retreated to their rooms for cover in the on-going war between his family members. Ever since his step-dad had lost his job working for NASA, stress had risen to a record high and showed no signs of lowering. All he could do was hope for something to change...

[hephaestus12]

The Beginning



The next morning which he thought would lead to yet another uneventful day, there was pandemonium in his homeroom. Nobody seemed to be calm amidst the chaos, some prayed, some cried, and some were paralyzed with fear. I still didn't have the faintest idea what was going on, but I started to feel panic rising up from within me, which a quickly pushed right back down, struggling to keep my cool. I asked a classmate what had happened, silently fearing that an event to rival 9/11 had occurred, but it was far worse than that. My classmate whispered whilst gripped with terror "There's demons in London. Hordes of them," then spontaneously busted into a sobbing fit. I felt terribly sorry for him. He had several relatives who lived in London. For all he knew they could all be dead by now. School was closed shortly thereafter and the nation went into a state of emergency. Dylan thought Bush would declare war even though i doubted a formal war declaration was needed... and what would he say? Would he say in his usual laughter inducing accent and speech skills "I declare war on hell cuz we gotta teach them not to mess with us." he wouldn't be surprised if Bush did do exactly that though, as he thought that Bush's stupidity knew no ends. A small troop of marines were sent into London to assist our allies, but the valiant soldiers never stood a chance against the power hungry onslaught of the demonic horde. Countless American citizens were drafted into a military that meant sure death for any who saw combat. We depleted our nuclear arsenal to try to put an end to the rampaging demon forces, but they had little affect, but the radiation killed millions of innocent people worldwide. The war raged on for years with humanity slowly weakening with each battle. The 18th birthday became to be known and judgment day, for it was when it was decided whether each growing youth were drafted or lived safer lives on the home front. The economy also underwent an enormous change. Entertainment was cut down to a point where it was also non-existent and nearly everyone who was lucky to get to stay home instead of facing almost invincible foes had to work in militaristic jobs, such as developing new weapons. Communism took over in the USA and the government decided what your job would be to help in the war effort. It was like a world-wide holocaust. Six years later on my 18th birthday was the saddest day of my life. I received a phone call around noon saying that in 14 days i would be deployed to southern England to a small military base. My older brother was lucky enough to escape that horrible fate but apparently Lady Luck favored me less than he. So two weeks later i drove to Washington, D.C. to board the troop transport plane. I was one of 200 on that plane, and nearly all of us thought we were going to die. Some vomited due to sheer nervousness, stress, and despair. When I departed the plane I was alarmed to see that the London mid-day sky was a bright red. We were hurried into a bunker a few hundred yards from the landing zone and settled in as best as we could, but it was obvious that the government had spent all their money on weaponry and nearly none on the comfort of the soldiers. One of the officers at the base said told us "Enjoy the peace for now... pretty soon you'll probably go through hell and back." Before that was just a phrase but now i wouldn't be surprised if they actually did send us through hell and back.

yes i notice how i switched from third person view to first person view...


Plz post what you think after you read!!!

[hephaestus12]

Just a few things i wanted to say... the intro is describing me in every last word as accurately as possible so sorry if the main character isn't more interesting. the second entry was pretty much saying how America reacted to the Hellgate opening in my story but the next entry should be actually be getting into the action the only thing is when version of me in the story thinks all that stuff about bush thats not exactly how i feel about bush so dont get mad over that.

[Darksaber]

Ok, here comes the criticism.

First: Paragraphs. White space does wonders.

Second: When he said "something like this", when the person has finished speaking, or someone else speaks, its a new line.

The cowboy opened the door of the saloon, letting noonday light beam into the dark interior. "Howdy" he said in a quiet, but menacing tone.
"Can I get you a drink?" the barman called from the other side of the room.

I know I'm guilty of it myself, but just take the paragraphs as a must, and the line spacing as a probable maybe.

First person tends to restrict yourself too.

Check it out: I was one of 200 on that plane, and nearly all of us thought we were going to die. Some vomited due to sheer nervousness, stress, and despair. When I departed the plane I was alarmed to see that the London mid-day sky was a bright red.

When you could have said...
Heph was one of the two hundred lucky survivors on the ageing DC3. To tell any of them they were lucky at the time would have been a bad joke, becuase each and every one of those passengers believed they were going to die.
The interior of the propeller driven aircraft was noisy, and smelt of airsick bags - where many of the occupants had vomited out of sheer nervousness, stress or despair. Others just found the turbulence to be too much for their stomach.

Heph departed the plane under the glow of the aircrafts parking lights, which bathed the evacuees in a red unholy glow. He was alarmed to see that the London mid day sky was red, almost as red as the winking lights on the DC3's wingtips, but far more ominous.

Just some thoughts. Im not a writer and have bad grammar :D If you're doing this for the first time, you may need to write something down and leave it for a day or two, then read it again. You'll be surprised at how many changes you'd like to make. Additionally, I know first person is great, and a lot of people find encouragement in writing first person as they are the main character (and you can see in your mind what is going on), but first person has its limitations.

If you want to get another character into the script... how are we going to know how they feel?

Anyway, aside from that I think the story has some good atmosphere, and is easy to follow. Don't be hesitant to throw descriptives in. What does it sound, taste, smell like?

Hope that helps :D
Dark

[hephaestus12]

Ok, here comes the criticism.

First: Paragraphs. White space does wonders.

Second: When he said "something like this", when the person has finished speaking, or someone else speaks, its a new line.

The cowboy opened the door of the saloon, letting noonday light beam into the dark interior. "Howdy" he said in a quiet, but menacing tone.
"Can I get you a drink?" the barman called from the other side of the room.

I know I'm guilty of it myself, but just take the paragraphs as a must, and the line spacing as a probable maybe.

First person tends to restrict yourself too.

Check it out:

When you could have said...
Heph was one of the two hundred lucky survivors on the ageing DC3. To tell any of them they were lucky at the time would have been a bad joke, becuase each and every one of those passengers believed they were going to die.
The interior of the propeller driven aircraft was noisy, and smelt of airsick bags - where many of the occupants had vomited out of sheer nervousness, stress or despair. Others just found the turbulence to be too much for their stomach.

Heph departed the plane under the glow of the aircrafts parking lights, which bathed the evacuees in a red unholy glow. He was alarmed to see that the London mid day sky was red, almost as red as the winking lights on the DC3's wingtips, but far more ominous.

Just some thoughts. Im not a writer and have bad grammar :D If you're doing this for the first time, you may need to write something down and leave it for a day or two, then read it again. You'll be surprised at how many changes you'd like to make. Additionally, I know first person is great, and a lot of people find encouragement in writing first person as they are the main character (and you can see in your mind what is going on), but first person has its limitations.

If you want to get another character into the script... how are we going to know how they feel?

Anyway, aside from that I think the story has some good atmosphere, and is easy to follow. Don't be hesitant to throw descriptives in. What does it sound, taste, smell like?

Hope that helps :D
Dark

well... obviously ur a much better writer than me and you should try writing a book. I'll try to use ur advice in the future. Also it was mostly ur fan fic that inspired me to attempt at writing one. And to account for the bad form and lack of space i havent even learned that yet... im not even a teenager yet for that matter. After comparing your writing to mine i do realize that this a pretty crappy first try but everyone needs to start somewhere :) thx for the reply btw

Should i just try to write better in the entries to come or start fresh with a new story?

[Darksaber]

Well you can edit your posts that are there.

I'd probably copy all the text into Word, do some formatting and build yourself a good foundation. With all things, you just need to practice, so edit your previous posts then go from there.

And if you arent even a teenager yet, that changes a lot. Its very good writing as I thought it would be comparable to some of the other fan fics I've read on the forums, so thats impressive.

[zoner7]

yeah... if you are only 12 years old - or even younger - that is extraordinary writing. The introduction easily captured my attention. I was able to identify with the main character, drawing parallels between his life and my own.

The second paragraph lacks the care of the first... It's thrown together quite haphazardly, but I will presume this is because you spent less time writing it. You appear anxious to delve into the actual story and seem like you would rather skip some of the introductory material, aside from the character description, which you did quite nicely. If this is your preference, screw the introduction. If it is rushed, it isn't worth including in the first place. Instead, start the scene off in mid-action. Heck, my thinking is so disorganized that I need to do this. I cannot create an outline or guidelines for my story to follow; I simply need to write. Readers will be able to infer much of the extraneous political information: you will most likely reference it in tidbits, and they can imagine the rest.

Besides that, there is some sloppy sentence structure and grammar, but you already said that you aren't even a teenager, so you have many years to learn. Overall, excellent job.

[hephaestus12]

yeah... if you are only 12 years old - or even younger - that is extraordinary writing. The introduction easily captured my attention. I was able to identify with the main character, drawing parallels between his life and my own.

The second paragraph lacks the care of the first... It's thrown together quite haphazardly, but I will presume this is because you spent less time writing it. You appear anxious to delve into the actual story and seem like you would rather skip some of the introductory material, aside from the character description, which you did quite nicely. If this is your preference, screw the introduction. If it is rushed, it isn't worth including in the first place. Instead, start the scene off in mid-action. Heck, my thinking is so disorganized that I need to do this. I cannot create an outline or guidelines for my story to follow; I simply need to write. Readers will be able to infer much of the extraneous political information: you will most likely reference it in tidbits, and they can imagine the rest.

Besides that, there is some sloppy sentence structure and grammar, but you already said that you aren't even a teenager, so you have many years to learn. Overall, excellent job.

well i was describing me in the intro. Every word was describing my life so it was pretty easy to write. Your observations about the second entry are true, i was just thinking of all off the top of my head. I'll put a bit more care into the next one and maybe go back and fix the first 2 ... and yea im 12

[hephaestus12]

As soon as Colonel Kenyan finished with us, who I thought looked more like Colonel Sanders, I went off to try to acquaint myself with my new home. Casualties screamed and I could almost feel their agony. There was no cure to combat the devil. The air was warm and very moist. When i realized the source of the moisture my heart skipped a beat. I smelled the blood everywhere, apparently there was no hospital wing. I walked silently to one of the many bunks set up in one large room, while trying to shield my eyes and failing. I could tell the barracks was hastily built-everything was uneven and disproportionate, the walls were a light gray with several charred black patches and large sections that had been replaced. Demons were obviously the cause of the tremendous damage inflicted to this brand new building. Low hanging dull light bulbs every 30 or so feet illuminated my surrounding to a degree, but I was a little glad that my vision was shrouded by darkness for I didn't want to see any more horror.

I collapsed into my GI mattress, feeling as though i fell deeper and deeper into the sub-standard stained bed with each passing minute. It was nearly hard as a rock and had frequent lumps in it. I saw an obscure faded blood stain on my bed - it was easy to guess the fate of his beds previous occupant since I was using it now. I felt a lone spring push into my back, like a steak being driven through the back of my heart as i sank deeper into a troubled sleep, but I didn't care about the living conditions anymore. At least I wouldn't be living here for long. I drifted into sweet sleep at last... and dreamed of her.

Thoughts of her were my only consolation.I still thought of her commonly, whenever I felt lonely or sad I would picture her in my mind, but she was also my main source of my troubles. I thought i would never see her again and that thought alone was enough to send me into depression. I thought about her 18th birthday a lot. If she had been lucky enough to stay in the US then I wouldn't get the chance to see her again, but if she had been drafted then there was a slim chance of me seeing her but she became just another casualty, I thought i would simply snap.

I woke slowly, wishing I could stay in that bed forever and refuse to face the ruined world that I had been forced to sacrifice myself for. I sat up propping myself up with my elbows, and noticed a worn assault rifle laying next to my bed. I picked it up to study it and saw that it was pretty standard for rifles used prior to the Hellgate opening, except for a rusted cross serving as a sight for the gun. I couldn't help but chuckle. Much good a one inch cross will do for mankind against thousands of blood thirsty demons. There seemed to be endless amounts of demons, and every millions of fallen soldiers had become zombies. He'd heard stories of some soldiers having to kill a dead comrade when they had become zombies.
I dressed in my uniform and walked outside with my new rifle in my hand. the landscape outside was barren of any plant life, where as 6 years ago it would have been teeming with everything imaginable. Once Kenyan saw me he yelled in a husky voice "Hey you, maggot! You're with them," and pointed to one of many groups of men awaiting orders.

Only five members made up this squad, and none of us seemed that spectacular. One was pretty muscular, but muscle didn't help fight off a demon. Another was a frail man who might have stopped eating upon his arrival to base. He probably thought any fate , including starvation, was better than viscous demons tearing you into shreds and being forgotten forever, just another folder in a file cabinet. The other two men seemed average with no distinct physical characteristics. They all seemed worn though, as if life had left them, too among all the death. They looked blankly into the distance like robots, and i feared that I would one day become like them - no longer having the will to live. I shyly stood next to them choosing not to speak to them quite yet and listened to Colonel Kenyans barking. He gave each squad a suicide mission, which was followed by protest and then Kenyan just shouting until they obeyed. When he stopped at us he said, which i was surprised to identify as sympathy, "You guys are going into the core of London to try to liberate a church that serves as a last haven for survivors. Good luck."

His sympathy mad me think that our mission was even more hopeless than most of the others and I felt sick with fear. Before I had managed to hide my terror but now while I walked to my demise I couldn't subdue any longer. After roughly thirty minutes of walking in a ruined London we arrived at the church that Kenyan had described. Patches of marble were missing from its walls and two of the four columns supporting it had been knocked out from their place and lay shattered on the ground nearby, and the remaining two columns were clearly crumbling away. The heavy wooden door was locked, but we just walked through the hole in it.
Several hundred people stared at us as we walked in. They all looked like starved beggars, wearing rags and having poor hygiene, I doubted there was even a shower in this building. It smelled heavily of mildew and smoke. I noticed a young child staring at me with large black, yet hopeful eyes and I realized that we were their last hope, and felt a huge weight placed on my shoulders. If i failed then would be no end of torture in life and death for all these innocents. A man stood up and slowly approached us. When he was close he said in a barely audible voice "They've infested the cellar. We few managed to escape the onslaught but most of us were lost. Weaponry is stored down there but if they destroy it first, I fear you, and thus all of us are doomed. Please, please hurry!"

We cautiously made the descent into the cellar, and I felt like I was climbing into hell. It felt hotter with each step down, until I could feel the intense heat from the demons at the floor of the cellar. So far they hadn't found us but it wouldn't be long. We quietly crept down a very narrow corridor and saw a group of a couple demons lumbering towards us. They stood over seven feet tall and had spiked running down their spines. Their eyes were a flaming red and the ground vibrated with every step they took. One man saw the demons and after muttering a prayer sprinted back upstairs. Now only four of us stood against eight of the fiercest creatures I had ever seen in my life. I grabbed my rifle and started shooting in controlled bursts of three to keep my accuracy, but the bullets had no effect on them. A desperate thought came to me then - if I clearly can't kill them with this standard rifle, but I could disable them. I aimed for their eyes, ears, limbs, anything that if they didn't have they couldn't kill me. After I blinded one beast, which then went into a confused frenzy the others followed my example. While they were unable to pursue us we ran past them into a store room.

I abandoned my rifle and took up a large gun with a barrel large enough it could fire bricks. I did a test fire into a wall, which punched a hole clear through it with a sphere of lightning. I had never seen anything like it but I could tell that I would like it much more than my old weapon I saw a dead man in a suit of armor that looked like a knight in the dark ages would wear. I put on his suit and fell to my knees with its enormous weight. I was about to take it off when i heard it re adjust itself for me. I felt a sting as it fastened itself onto me and stood up comfortably while marveling at the engineering of my "borrowed" equipment. Feeling like a new man I led my squad mates, who had also found some equipment of their own, into the corridor.

The lumbering hulks had somehow regenerated but now could easily be dispatched with our new weaponry. We advanced through the cellar, routinely killing off any demons that we spotted. Near the end of the hallway I was astonished to see another man like the one whose armor I wore now. He was holding a sword which I guessed was four feet long and was cleaving dozens of oncoming attackers. He was in such a battle frenzy that he probably wouldn't be able to distinguish between me and the demons. After watching him for a few more moments he harshly shouted "Damn it don't just stand there! Help me kill these bastards!"


thx for reading

[hephaestus12]

I kinda feel like this is a writing class and darksaber is my teacher ;)

[Darksaber]

Think Obiwan and Qui-Gon Jin, or the Emperor and Darth Maul :D

Though I promise that you wont get chopped in half with a lightsabre!

[zoner7]

I suppose it’s time to teach you some grammar. I’m just going to read through this section of your story and correct select sentences. I’ll just post the original sentence, a corrected version, and then explain why the latter is correct.

I - Incorrect sentence
C – Correct sentence

I: “As soon as Colonel Kenyan finished with us, who I thought looked more like Colonel Sanders, I went off to try to acquaint myself with my new home.”

C: As soon as Colonel Kenyan, who looked more like Colonel Sanders, finished with us, I went off to try to acquaint myself with my new home.

The nonessential, descriptive phrase goes directly after the noun that it describes. In this case, that noun is Colonel Kenyan. Your sentence attributed the description of Colonel Sanders to “us.” By the way, you also need to explain who “us” is. Substitute us for, perhaps, “my squad.” Afterwards you may use the pronoun “us.”

Hmm… I have a feeling if I dissect every sentence this will be the longest mega post on this forum… I think I’ll be a tad more lenient.

I: “Casualties screamed and I could almost feel their agony.”
C: Casualties screamed, and I could almost feel their agony.

The comma is required before “and,” because both clauses are independent. This basically means that they can stand on their own. They have a subject and a verb. Great rule. If you aren’t sure whether the comma is required, say the sentence out loud. If it sounds a like a whole sentence, then you need the comma. “Casualties screamed” is its own sentence as is “I could almost feel their agony.”

I: “When i realized the source of the moisture my heart skipped a beat.”
C: When I realized the source of the moisture, my heart skipped a beat.

Always capitalize “I.” I imagine this was just laziness. This is one of those introductory clauses. It’s tough to explain how they work. Suffice to say, you need a comma.

I: “I smelled the blood everywhere, apparently there was no hospital wing.”
C: I smelled the blood everywhere; apparently there was no hospital wing.

“I smelled the blood everywhere” and “apparently there was no hospital wing” are both complete sentences that can stand on their own. So you could either use a semi-colon or a period here. They are basically interchangeable. However, semicolons are typically used when the two sentences are related, and it indicates a slightly shorter pause than the period.

Ok. I’m done with the grammar lesson. I want to just finish this story. I hope some of this helps. You’ve got a heck of a lot better understanding of grammar than I did at your age. I didn’t learn to write until my junior year in high school. You are adventurous with your punctuation; this will help you in the long run. Because of it I’m guessing that you are much further along than most students your age.

I finished the story. There are few noteworthy concepts or lines in the story that caught my attention. For starters, I love some your creativity. Like the armor that molded to fit the guys body shape. I thought that was neat. I also liked the tactics your squad chose to employ to dismiss that first group of demons. And then there are some metaphores that I just thought were creative. "just another folder in a file cabinet." This one in particular caught my attention.

Keep up the good work. Try to use those commas to separate actual sentences. It makes the prose much legible.

[hephaestus12]

thanks for reading zoner7 and i'll try to use your grammar lesson even though it might be a bit too high for me to comprehend ;). And just refer to the intro to learn about me... the scored higher than 99% nationwide, won math contest everyone in my grade did, and dont give a shit about school period are all things im famous for... or actually im pretty infamous to the teachers ;)...

This is an example of my school day. Today my english / composition teacher (the other heartless teacher I mentioned in the intro) appointed a short tempered girl to be my drill sergeant and try to get me organized... she ended up making me do push ups in class cuz i didn't take her seriously. Then next period (lucky me, i get the same evil old wretch 2 periods in a row) she started it off as usual ridiculing my posture, organization, and not following the dress code... sometimes it's hilarious when my teachers are extra bitchy. You should have heard how my new "drill sergeant" tried to convince me to be organized. saying stuff like "If you don't bring pencils, pens, a belt, and tuck your shirt in im gonna slaughter you, kick me in the nuts (she downed a little kid like that earlier in the year), scream at me, etc. she got pissed when i told her "go ahead" or "please do". She said it wasn't a laughing matter, but I, and my classmates (especially her boyfriend) , couldn't stop laughing. I used to get offended by teachers ranting at me but now its pretty comical sometimes... sry but i just had to say that and give you a view of my daily life.


o and i saw that 3 guests were viewing this when i wrote this post, so guests plz register if ur into hellgate or hellgate fan fics and contribute instead of just standing off into the shadows without being able to voice your thoughts

[mrprophet]

darth maul died like a tatoo'd little bitch, so why not darth vader, he was badass:D

[hephaestus12]

I started firing my new favorite gun with a trigger-happy fury into the masses of the damned, desperate to employ any assistance to help my squad's - humankind's cause. The recoil of the hand-held cannon felt like the familiar feeling of catching a football in my arms. For a few seconds my firing slowed, my nerves calmed down, and my mind flowed with memories of playing football with friends and family in the immense yard of a old Victorian farm house. One particular memory drifted into gradually drifted into focus. It was late Spring - I think somewhere in the middle of May. I was at my best friends house, who I had known since before grade school, with my brother and several other close friends. Sweet smelling smoke drifted from a grill on a porch made of the same red brick that made up the whole two story fifteen room house. His house was like a home away from home for me while I was growing up. The sun warmed my face as I waited for a play to start. It continued its path as a perfect day until the gravity of the present situations came crashing around me, and shattered my beloved memories of my youth. It seemed like an eternity had passed since that pleasant peace even though it had only been half a dozen years.

The line of demons were rapidly thinning, with the modern knight killing twice as many as all of my squad combined. His sword moved in a blur as he swung with a righteous fury. I thought I saw a faint flaming glow emanating from his visor, but I reassured myself that it was just the light reflecting off the red hides of the demons. He kept on savagely butchering anything that came into sight until the demons served no longer as the instruments for the will of Satan, but cushions covering all of the floor surrounding him. He saw a surviving demon try to get up and let out a loud grunt and struck it down with the blunt side of his sword like a lumberjack trying to chop a tree stronger than steel. As he smashed his sword down I was sure the blade was glowing, maybe even flaming. Perhaps magic was real, after all.

He slumped against the wall, panting heavily. Now that his energy had left him he was just a ordinary man happy to be alive instead of a intimidating war machine that he had been a minute ago. He took his helmet off to take a relieving breath of fresh air and carefully placed his helmet that had done more to save him than I had next to him, placing one arm over it and the other on the hilt of his sword. He had a scar near his eye that looked almost like an extension of his bushy eyebrow. Many other scars and disfigurements dotted his face acting as souvenirs of previous, perhaps even bloodier battles. He was short but sturdily built with wide shoulders and huge arms. Wielding a full metal sword that was almost as tall as he for self defense was obviously very good exercise. Suddenly his trusty silver blade fell from his hands and he fell into a deep slumber. I couldn't blame him.

It took all four of us to hoist his massive body upstairs. We set him down on the ground while the man who we met earlier started towards us with, clearly relieved. "We found him fighting for his life down there," I said and pointed at him after I set him down with painstaking care.

A worried expression passed across the old man's face as he glanced at him before saying in a depressing tone "Oh, I see... well I'm glad that you brought him up for a proper burial."

At first I didn't understand him but then I realized that under the heavy armor the old man could not see his chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, and the sleeping warrior was breathing almost silently. "Oh, he's alive alright! He might be asleep for a while but I don't think any demon can bring this one down," and looked admiringly at the battle worn man.

"Thank God there were no losses. These people have already seen far too much death. I fear even if we win this war they will never be able to have normal lives," he said.

I began to think of the old man as the caretaker for all those lucky enough to be able to call this church their home. They saw the Caretaker as a leader, a father. We looked like their saviors, their knights in shining armor, which the man we found actually was. I asked the caretaker about the fate of Tom, the man who had retreated upon sight of the demons.

The Caretaker chuckled mischievously and said "Oh you'll see we don't take kindly to traitors," and pointed a stiff finger at a dark shape resting against the wall in a corner.

I know it's pretty short but I have to stop for now... I hope my writing looks like it's improving, zoner and darksaber!

[Darksaber]

I am a teacher, though its only IT and SOSE :D I probably shouldn't admit that as I don't know EVERYTHING about IT :D

Your teacher sounds pretty unprofessional. If I have students in my class that make life difficult for everyone else, I try to find out why they are behaving that way - not by making fun of them or smacking them in the head with a stick.

[hephaestus12]

I wasn't making life difficult for everyone, i just didn't have a pencil... And I don't think too many people would have taken a bipolar little girl a half foot shorter than you trying to be your drill sergeant seriously.

[hephaestus12]

... Today the same teacher I wrote about yesterday kicked me out of her class because I didn't have enough notes on a poem we were reading. She said I was wasting her time and my time, and that I am a waste of money... I'll probably have another entry up soon even though this fan fic isn't really good enough to have people waiting for more :(

at this rate people will start coming to this thread to read about my fucked up life instead of the story ;)

[Darksaber]

You should really say something to the Principal of the school. A teacher cant say that to you.

I figure teachers are there to help, not to tell you that you cant achieve or that you are a waste of time. Don't listen to her. For what you've written in the Scriptorium, you are doing very well - not just for your age, but you are doing well in general.

I bet your teacher is a middle aged woman who is jaded and doesnt like her job.

[hephaestus12]

Ive gotten used to that sort of thing... Just how people say to ignore classmates that get on your nerves, Ive come to ignore her to a degree. Even last year when she had never taught me in her life she held a grudge since my older brother had mad quite a reputation for the family. Once when my History teacher left early last year she had to watch over us and when she saw me coming she said "Oh god. I thought I was through with Wards for the day."... If college is anything like this school, I'll be flipping burgers (thats what ALL the teachers and my step-dad say i'll be doing if i don't go to college even though not all doors are closed to you without a college degree, for example being a author ;)) for the rest of my life. I guess you could say this school doesn't exactly give me a good impression of academics. And about your guess about her she is middle age and I think she doesn't like the job of educating teens and pre-teens but I think she loves the job of, for lack of a better word, bullying them. Obviously the "bullying" isn't physical except for the minor making dots on my hand with a white board marker and making people be "human wallpaper". And about complaining to the principle about her, they've known each other longer than i've been alive and where I live is pretty rural, so where would they find anther english and composition teacher? In the past replacement teachers haven't been the best, either. I just wish I went to a public school again... while im spending half my day in hell my friends i met in public school are always talking about how great it is...




Now enough of fuming about school and on the next entry.

Oh, and one more thing... The reason I don't have a name for the girl mentioned in the first and third chapters is because like everything else in the intro she is very real and giving her a false name or making up a false one would just feel weird... And I may stretch this subject in the story just a tad bit just for the sake of a more interesting story.






They had drugged him with chloroform, just enough to put him to sleep, and two of the larger peasants kept an ever watchful eye on their newly captured prisoner as if he were a hunting trophy. I didn't have the heart to wake him, let alone force him to fight. Hopefully the guilt of leaving four men to die would be enough punishment. I laid down near the rest of my squad and the mysterious man we found. I had dozens of questions for him but I was starting to feel drowsy, too and passed into a deep slumber.

It was the day before the Hellgate opened, in math class. I relived the typical Thursday afternoon in amazing detail, every nook in the wall, every self reminder on the white board. I looked, mesmerized, to my left to left to the same girl who had captivated me gave me a my only reason to look forward to the next day of school...

When I woke up I almost instantly remembered my dream. I couldn't help being mad at myself. If only I hadn't been so damn shy. I had missed my chance and now had one less reason to live in a time where nearly every other reason had been destroyed. But there was one element left, something that is indestructible. Along with disease, war, pain, and all the other ailments of this world, Pandora's Box also introduced Hope. The only force that can overcome any evil and raise spirits even if the body is almost dead. I hoped so much that I would survive, and see her again. That became my motivation to fight, so that one day perhaps the demons will be eradicated and maybe, against all odds, I could find her.

I started pacing about the church, too troubled to sleep. The sun slowly made its ascent over the horizon and the survivors' bodies stirred. I hoped that the knight would wake soon so I could finally get some answers I had been dying to ask. I just couldn't stand the waiting any longer so I walked to him and nudged him first very softly, then slightly harder, then harder, but he didn't notice. It was not use, for all I knew he might be in a coma. I gathered my squad mates and we started the journey back to base

About fifteen minutes into the walk, I noticed a plume of thick black smoke bellowing from somewhere ahead. Alarmed, we broke into a spring towards the base. I was almost certain that the demons had attacked our base, and it didn't surprise me. Satan liked to stop the problem at the source, even though to his efforts we hardly amounted to a thorn in his side. As we neared the encampment, we slowed down and tried to walk and quietly as possible.

We made our way through the clearing that led to the base and found the barracks burned to the ground. Smoke thicker than pea soup covered the entire area, so I often tripped over a corpse in my limited vision. I knew demons were still here, lurking in the all familiar heat and smoke, waiting for the opportunity to seize their prey. Frank went into the barracks to try to find any survivors and took on the roll of a fireman. A demon exploded out of a weakened section of the barracks, crashing a support beam. The building fell apart as if it were made of legos, taking any lives that could have been hiding along with it. The abomination pounced on me like a guard dog. It's roar was deafening with my ears a mere inches from it's fangs. I felt it's long, jagged claws dig into my skin and burning the flesh underneath. Mike, the giant of a squad mate now knew just how effective normal bullets against beasts like these so instead of shooting he swung at it's head as hard as he could with the butt of his rifle. The gun met the unsuspecting demon's head with such force that the rifle snapped in two. As the demon flew off of me, it's claws raked my skin, leaving four burning and bleeding wounds. The demon now lay a few feet away from me, dazed from the blow. Mike took advantage of the demon's disorientation, and with a sharp rock in hand hammered it down like a miner mining for some rare metal, perhaps he was mining for revenge. The demon's blood splattered on me and ate away at me like piranhas made of fire. I screamed in agony and tried to cover my wounds to keep some blood from squirting out but before long, I had gone into shock.

My faithful companions rushed me back to the church while i frequently flickered between life and death. Everything was a burn to me, and my head felt so light from loss of blood I thought it might float away. I was feeling cold - almost as cold as a corpse Mike and Darren exchanged worry looks as they tried to push themselves far beyond their limits to save my life. Darren looked at my wounds from the demon's claws and gagged. I didn't know what the after affects of demonic wounds were but I didn't want to find out any time soon. They didn't show any signs of slowing as we reached the church entrance and instead of cautiously stepping through the jagged wood doors as we did on our first entrance they leaped through it. I heard Mike let out a sharp gasp as part of the door splintered off into his back. They deposited me onto an old blanket, and passed out. Mike fell to the floor face down, for those were no small splinters in his back - a miniature javelin of a piece of wood jutted from his back. And Darren, the only unscathed member of us yelled with all his might "MEDIC!"

[hephaestus12]

I enjoy writing for all my fellow gurus but damn it if nobody reads it what's the point? If you want me to write more than just say so but if nobody posts how am I supposed to know if anyone has read it? As of now im discontinuing this fan fic unless someone replies and changes my mind. Have a nice day.

[maiku00]

nice read, but don't feel like you have to write if you don't want to >_>a should be writing for your own enjoyment! not others.

[hephaestus12]

nice read, but don't feel like you have to write if you don't want to >_>a should be writing for your own enjoyment! not others.

I do enjoy writing, and especially for others. I could write in a private journal or something if I just wanted to vent without any human interactions. Strangely enough, this is the only place I feel comfortable writing... If i sound upset in my last post it wasn't because I was upset with the lack of people posting on my fan fic, but was just in a bad mood in general. If you've read all my posts prior to this you know how my teachers are, and how particularly bad my english/composition teacher is. I think she gets fulfillment from pissing me off. Yesterday, for example, she said first that I was nothing to her but a sore in her mouth and then i wasnt allowed to talk at all, including contributing to class discussions. Then in the same period she said Im just an irritant in her opinion. I'm not having to dig real far back to find some things that she said, things like this happen almost every day. And back to the subject of the story because Im sure most of you have your own troubles to worry about and are pretty much fed up with mine... I probably will be continuing this fan fic in the near future, probably tomorrow, but I don't think I have enough time right now. I've been pretty busy lately so I didn't get a chance to reply before, but I haven't abandoned this thread, don't worry.

[maiku00]

English teachers seem to have common predispositions for being jerks

[Darksaber]

Hey Heph, got around to reading your fic now :D I guess school is busy for us both! Your fanfic is looking good, and it reads a lot easier too.

I know it sucks when people havent posted comments (but you see your view count going up). Its one of those crappy things, and I think everyone has the same probs.

Onto the writing... I can see its becoming a good qaulity fic, regardless of how old you are. I dont think age is much of an issue with you, so that the last time I'll mention it.

I like the MEEEEEDIIIIIIIC! Bit at the end - I can so visualise that :D Its always good to have a girl in the story too, and I have a feeling she'll be making an appearance in a later chapter.

Dont let school and your teachers get you down. You already know your teacher is biased and petty, so just take it on the snout and bide your time (do the whole Spartan thing and put your shield up). She'll either get over it or you'll graduate (in a while). Im glad you enjoy writing, dont let anyone change that.

As a final little note - keep on writing, regardless of whether people post comments or not. It'll help you practice, especially if you have a good or bad part and people can constructively criticise. Do it for yourself too. I find that writing allows me to be somewhere else and do whatever I like - its a bit hard to get started sometimes, but try and find the discipline to sit yourself down and start typing.

Like I said, Im not an expert, but I'm in a similar boat to you - so we can keep each others post counts and views rising :D Looking forward to what comes next!
Dark

[hephaestus12]

Darksaber, ur like a forum father to me *gets all teary eyed*. Sorry about the drought of entries lately, but C&C3's an addiction that I haven't been able to break quite yet. Might be a bit rusty as the story is in a bit of a drought, too. There should be some action in the near future, though (hopefully next entry) And about your prediction of seeing the girl in later chapters, I have no clue at this point. I've just been sitting down and writing what comes off the top of my head but if I see a nice little opportunity for her to make an appearance then I will. As always, compliments, constructive criticism, discussion, and anything else that somehow relates to this thread is welcome. Enjoy. Oh and one more thing... I know this has absolutely nothing to do with this thread or this site but
Ive been addicted to this song and for those of you who haven't heard it it's a great song. I don't care what Metallica did about Napster. They still kick ass and have a special place in the heart of everyone who listens to rock. Just in case you want to see more Metallica songs like that any song on youtube that has (S&M) means it's from that same concert and therefore has the orchestra.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyX7yBc8BkY





Several dark, woeful eyes glanced in our direction, then carelessly turned back to their own business. Apparently people in our situation wasn't exactly rare around here... A priest dressed in now stained and worn white robes rushed to our aide with a bible and cross in hand. He knelt above us and began reciting prayers and verses or for all I knew rituals. I this point I couldn't control the anger boiling up from within my veins. I screamed at the priest

"Don't just sit there and pray for us you superstitious little bastard! We don't need your prayers, we need HELP! What the fuck happened to nurses and first aid kits?!?

Almost unbearable hear roiled from my skin as I launched wave after wave of rage fueled rantings.

The priest flinched slightly, but continued what he was doing, just in a different - less friendly tone.

I could feel more anger, desperation, fear, and frustration rising up as i yelled "A fucking band-aid would help more! Who the hell made a retard the lead doctor!?!

I knew what kind of impression I was making on everyone there, but when you're right about to die and your fate is in the hands of a fakir, quite frankly you don't give a shit what people think of you, just as long as you live to have a reputation.

Now the priest was obviously angry - his cheeks were ablaze and his voice kept getting louder by the second. "Silence my sons," he said in a barely restrained voice "Calm your body, mind and soul, and the Lord Almighty shall heal them" I was right about to give him yet another piece of my mind, but hell, why not give it a shot? If I don't feel remarkably rejuvenated in five minutes I could always resume screaming and yelling to my heart's content. I closed my eyes and steadied my bleeding as much as I could and tried to enter a state of Zen. Now that I wasn't focusing on the priest, I noticed the pool of blood I had made around me. My wounds were inflamed, and I wouldn't be surprised if they suddenly burst into flames. The wounds from the demon made me look like a had been in a fire and crossfire at the same time.

"Sleep, my child," the priest said.
"I don't sleep I could sleep for a second if I drank a bottle of chloroform and a couple sleeping pills," I replied.
"Well I can solve that problem for you," the priest said, before making a cross sign over his chest then striking me with his holy bible.

My sleep was plagued my a nightmarish recollection of what had happened in my old army camp, which was now just a burning wasteland amidst an entire country, and slowly becoming an entire continent, of horrors.

I awoke to see the priest standing over me with a warm hearted smile stretched across his carefree face. Surprisingly I did fell remarkably better than just a few hours before. Long, jagged scars snaked around my body and felt burning hot to touch, but only my fingers hurt when I touched them, no pain could be detected in the souvenirs from hell. All of this had to be some surreal dream, but either way it wouldn't last long.

"Old habits die hard," the priest said.

I didn't exactly know what he meant by this but I could imagine what church would be like with him there.

The knight my squad had found lumbered over to me to see his savior. He had a thick Irish accent and a low booming voice.

"Thanks for the help down there, mate. Not that I couldn't have taken 'em all out myself," he said after flashing a joking smile.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Ya feeling okay?" I said. "Haven't got much room to talk , mate you've been out could for two days," he replied.
"My name's Dylan, just in case you don't want to call me mate for the rest of my life," I said. "Oh yeah, introductions... Well I'm Kelsin, just in case you don't want to call me nothing for the rest of your life."

I scanned the room for the Caretaker and saw him talking to a couple in a corner. Testing my strength, I propped myself up on my elbows, then feeling no pain, stood up. Amazingly I felt as good as I did before last night. I approached the Caretaker to see what came next in my twisted life.

"Well since my CO is probably dead, I guess you're in charge of me, now," I told him.

"I am not in charge of anyone. You follow your own path, I just help keep people on track. But, If you are looking for things to do, I've got plenty. Demons have slowly began reviving all those resting in the graveyard a few hundred yards away. If you could figure out a way to stop them, all of us would owe you a life debt. I wish I could pay you, but all we have is gratitude."

"Well what else am I to do? I'll go as soon as I can get my fellow soldiers ready"

Darren was slouched comfortably against a wall, resting. Mike, however, was slouching against a wall breathing in a sharp, jagged rhythm.

The priest noticed my concern and said "Do not worry yourself with his fate. He will recover just as you did, my child. All it takes is rest here."
"How long will it be until he can fight again?"
"If you required it, he can fight now."
"I require it if you value the lives of anyone here."

sry once again about the length but it's hard to think of what comes next for me when it's a relatively uneventful chapter. There will be plenty of action in chapters to come.

[Darksaber]

Nice one. Conversations are just as important as action tho, they create depth in your story and your characters. I think we can all be found guilty of just wanting action, but conversation always makes a deeper story :D

[Booboo]

Well, I feel like I ought to write down a few thoughts since I do try to check in here from time to time.

First, it's a good story. You've got some idea where this is going and I'm definitely interesting in finding out which way this little fellow is headed. Second, you've definitely done well in taking Darksaber and Zoner's suggestions to heart as the quality of writing is getting better each post. You also do a rather good job with your descriptions, they are long enough to give me a visual and short enough to not drag the story to a grinding halt (Fucking Tolkien :mad: ).

My big suggestion: Keep listening to Darksaber. The man knows how to write, and how to do it deviously well. Confict drives a story, and conversation is a perfect place to really define your characters' emotions and philosophies. Anyway, you definitely got a good thing going, so keep it up.

[maiku00]

good addition!

[hephaestus12]

thx for the replies and compliments. The only sense of accomplishment and acknowledgment I get is from posts and knowing that there are people that actually read and/or like it is the main motivation. I should have another one up tomorrow, btw

[Indiana Jonas]

First of all let me congratulate you for this great story. i'm still shocked by the fact ur only 12... I wish that i could write like you :p

Second, a person who likes Metallica, has to be someone cool! I listen to Metallica songs every single day! Specially song from S&M! I've probably seen the concert about 25 times, and listen to it's songs about a few hundred times.


An third, please don't give up on this, despite the problems u might have. Writing could be ur escape from the real world, a thing that calms you down.



For all that concerns me, keep doing this dude!!!!