The "Creative Writing" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Heres my entry and it has not been checked very throughly and nor did i have much time to compose it. Neverless, an entry is an entry. Heres the story.
The same questions were asked and the same answers were repeated. The interrogation had carried on for what seemed like hours and to the idle observer, little or no progress seemed to be made. The same conversation, repeated again and again like a never-ending nightmare still spiralling out of control. The young questioned man buried his face in his hands with frustration, the interrogators were simply not listening and it was eating away at his soul. The single light bulb in the room illuminated the bare grey walls splattered with blood and the basic furniture merely made the whole ordeal more depressing.
“Please continue to co-operate with us Mr Jake Thornton, if you intend to finish this “unnecessary, discriminate questioning”, again, explain what happened” the policeman coolly reminded. Thornton stared upwards at the 2 men in black suits sat opposite him, one black man, one white, both wearing shades and unemotional at his plight of suffering. No doubt detectives who had grown use to hardened men break down under their intense bombardment of questions.
“I’ve already told you! How many times must I tell you? Please, you have to believe me, I-“
“Since you are so unwilling to help us, we’ll help you. Tell us, why were you on the oilrig?” queried the black policeman.
Thornton sighed, “My friends and I had problems with our boat”
“What problems did you have that warranted you to trespass on private property?” snared the white policeman who was taking notes on the single piece of lined paper on the table.
“There was a leak on the boat, had we not gone onto the oil rig, we would have drowned in that storm”
The policeman wrote down the notes for the tenth time and stared at his companion who sat patiently. “Sorry George, carry on.” Spoke the white policemen. “Thanks john” replied “George” and continued with the questioning.
“You said that you went exploring on the oil rig to pass the time for the storm to subside, what did you discover?”
“A secret lab? Possibly doing some illegal experiments”
“Illegal? In what way?” inquired “George” his left eyebrow now raised with renewed interest.
“Germ or biological warfare?” Thornton haphazardly guessed “I came to that conclusion after we found containment areas and when Brian stupidly drank from an open can of flat cola”
“George” paused. “Please continue”
Thornton stared downwards towards the table, the whole ordeal replayed in his mind as he tried to remember, he repeated all of it. Ever since they had ventured into the secret labs and his best friend Brian got infected, Thornton’s life became a nightmare. Brian mutated into a soulless monster and had hunted them one by one and turning them into hosts for more monsters. For hours the surviving members fought against the numerous waves of creatures in a retreating skirmish back to the surface of the oilrig. Half of his friends were killed trying to fight their way back to the blast doors, another sacrificed himself to seal the blast doors to the inner lab and Thornton’s last friend, his girl friend Lisa, plunged to her death when a rusting metal gantry buckled under the weight of the remaining supplies she carried and collapsed. An almost ironic, everlasting scaring reminder of the bloodshed, horror of his lucky escape from the death trap that was the oilrig. He didn’t expect the “policemen”, to understand or believe him, all he wanted was the ordeal to end.
“I don’t think you really did see any monster or parasitic organism, I think that you killed your friends in cold-blood, there were numerous shots on the body you identified as Brian with the light arms you carried when the rescue helicopter picked you up!” “George” stared hard into Thornton’s eyes, his voice nothing more then a harsh whisper.
“There was NO evidence that there was a secret lab on the oil rig, NO evidence that there was even any organism that you vaguely described on board! I think you made it all up. As we speak, divers are combing the area for their bodies of your other friends.”
“Please I can prove everything I said if I just showed you in person where-“ Thornton’s pleading was cut short
“We’ve heard enough MR Thornton, you’re being charged with multiple murders! John, do the honours!”. “George” opened the door where 2 attendants waited to take Thornton away. Thornton stared on in disbelief and disgust, all this questioning had lead to this; he failed to convince any of them of his innocence. Justice had seemingly gone blind. “John” stood up, to this point he had been unemotional to the whole ordeal, merely writing notes. “John” and “George” didn’t need the police disguises anymore, they heard enough to carry out the plan. He grinned.
“Mr Jake Thornton you once questioned us why there was blood was on the walls” The agent pulled out a pistol. “This is why” Thornton’s jaw dropped and his eyes were wide open. The agent fired 2 shots in quick succession into Thornton’s head. A fine mist of Blood, bone and brains splattered onto the back wall. The lifeless body slumped forward, his blood continued to seep into the table. The agent never regretted the action of killing him nor the people before him; he never should have taken the boat trip in the first place. They didn’t want someone to blow the governments top secret, highly unethical research that would embarrass and frighten the country and its people over something so horrible. “John” signalled the 2 attendants to clean the mess up and take the corpse to be buried at an unknown location. “George” walked in to the room again to inspect the handy work of his accomplice.
“Jobs done “George”. Let us return to the general and Enlighten him that its all been taken care of. We’ve retrieved the hard files and destroyed the oilrig, along with the creatures inside. Our task is complete. Lets leave for A51”
The same questions were asked and the same answers were repeated. The interrogation had carried on for what seemed like hours and to the idle observer, little or no progress seemed to be made. The same conversation, repeated again and again like a never-ending nightmare still spiralling out of control. The young questioned man buried his face in his hands with frustration, the interrogators were simply not listening and it was eating away at his soul. The single light bulb in the room illuminated the bare grey walls splattered with blood and the basic furniture merely made the whole ordeal more depressing.
“Please continue to co-operate with us Mr Jake Thornton, if you intend to finish this “unnecessary, discriminate questioning”, again, explain what happened” the policeman coolly reminded. Thornton stared upwards at the 2 men in black suits sat opposite him, one black man, one white, both wearing shades and unemotional at his plight of suffering. No doubt detectives who had grown use to hardened men break down under their intense bombardment of questions.
“I’ve already told you! How many times must I tell you? Please, you have to believe me, I-“
“Since you are so unwilling to help us, we’ll help you. Tell us, why were you on the oilrig?” queried the black policeman.
Thornton sighed, “My friends and I had problems with our boat”
“What problems did you have that warranted you to trespass on private property?” snared the white policeman who was taking notes on the single piece of lined paper on the table.
“There was a leak on the boat, had we not gone onto the oil rig, we would have drowned in that storm”
The policeman wrote down the notes for the tenth time and stared at his companion who sat patiently. “Sorry George, carry on.” Spoke the white policemen. “Thanks john” replied “George” and continued with the questioning.
“You said that you went exploring on the oil rig to pass the time for the storm to subside, what did you discover?”
“A secret lab? Possibly doing some illegal experiments”
“Illegal? In what way?” inquired “George” his left eyebrow now raised with renewed interest.
“Germ or biological warfare?” Thornton haphazardly guessed “I came to that conclusion after we found containment areas and when Brian stupidly drank from an open can of flat cola”
“George” paused. “Please continue”
Thornton stared downwards towards the table, the whole ordeal replayed in his mind as he tried to remember, he repeated all of it. Ever since they had ventured into the secret labs and his best friend Brian got infected, Thornton’s life became a nightmare. Brian mutated into a soulless monster and had hunted them one by one and turning them into hosts for more monsters. For hours the surviving members fought against the numerous waves of creatures in a retreating skirmish back to the surface of the oilrig. Half of his friends were killed trying to fight their way back to the blast doors, another sacrificed himself to seal the blast doors to the inner lab and Thornton’s last friend, his girl friend Lisa, plunged to her death when a rusting metal gantry buckled under the weight of the remaining supplies she carried and collapsed. An almost ironic, everlasting scaring reminder of the bloodshed, horror of his lucky escape from the death trap that was the oilrig. He didn’t expect the “policemen”, to understand or believe him, all he wanted was the ordeal to end.
“I don’t think you really did see any monster or parasitic organism, I think that you killed your friends in cold-blood, there were numerous shots on the body you identified as Brian with the light arms you carried when the rescue helicopter picked you up!” “George” stared hard into Thornton’s eyes, his voice nothing more then a harsh whisper.
“There was NO evidence that there was a secret lab on the oil rig, NO evidence that there was even any organism that you vaguely described on board! I think you made it all up. As we speak, divers are combing the area for their bodies of your other friends.”
“Please I can prove everything I said if I just showed you in person where-“ Thornton’s pleading was cut short
“We’ve heard enough MR Thornton, you’re being charged with multiple murders! John, do the honours!”. “George” opened the door where 2 attendants waited to take Thornton away. Thornton stared on in disbelief and disgust, all this questioning had lead to this; he failed to convince any of them of his innocence. Justice had seemingly gone blind. “John” stood up, to this point he had been unemotional to the whole ordeal, merely writing notes. “John” and “George” didn’t need the police disguises anymore, they heard enough to carry out the plan. He grinned.
“Mr Jake Thornton you once questioned us why there was blood was on the walls” The agent pulled out a pistol. “This is why” Thornton’s jaw dropped and his eyes were wide open. The agent fired 2 shots in quick succession into Thornton’s head. A fine mist of Blood, bone and brains splattered onto the back wall. The lifeless body slumped forward, his blood continued to seep into the table. The agent never regretted the action of killing him nor the people before him; he never should have taken the boat trip in the first place. They didn’t want someone to blow the governments top secret, highly unethical research that would embarrass and frighten the country and its people over something so horrible. “John” signalled the 2 attendants to clean the mess up and take the corpse to be buried at an unknown location. “George” walked in to the room again to inspect the handy work of his accomplice.
“Jobs done “George”. Let us return to the general and Enlighten him that its all been taken care of. We’ve retrieved the hard files and destroyed the oilrig, along with the creatures inside. Our task is complete. Lets leave for A51”
spoonbeast wrote: >
> So writing style was ok yeah? just the plot and the concept rubbish
> (as i expected)?
You can definitely write, very well in fact, but yeah, the plot was not so good. The concept was good, though, just needed a little extra - I know you were rushed, but I was thinking about multiple flashbacks splitting up the interrogation and telling the story as if it was happening, rather than in retropect.
Still enjoyable reading.
> So writing style was ok yeah? just the plot and the concept rubbish
> (as i expected)?
You can definitely write, very well in fact, but yeah, the plot was not so good. The concept was good, though, just needed a little extra - I know you were rushed, but I was thinking about multiple flashbacks splitting up the interrogation and telling the story as if it was happening, rather than in retropect.
Still enjoyable reading.
Hmmm..
The concept of the discovered secret lab wasn't a bad idea but the story needed to be taken in a different direction. The story gives no indication as to why the two agents were questioning him, especially as they were just going to shoot him anyway. Possibly you could have expanded the 'why' he was being questioned e.g. they could be trying to find out if he working for another agency, working alone etc.
It's only a suggestion but, there again, what do I know? :)
The concept of the discovered secret lab wasn't a bad idea but the story needed to be taken in a different direction. The story gives no indication as to why the two agents were questioning him, especially as they were just going to shoot him anyway. Possibly you could have expanded the 'why' he was being questioned e.g. they could be trying to find out if he working for another agency, working alone etc.
It's only a suggestion but, there again, what do I know? :)
The whole Doom-esque oilrig situation sounded fun. Maybe if you'd concentrated the story on that more? It felt a bit rushed, if you know what I mean.
time was really the reason that i didn't do the doom thing (EDIT: i only decided to do the challenge only 2 days before deadline). I really did want to try that part out and sod the whole interview idea but being only a short story and me being someone who writes a hell of a lot, it would have been an epic.
EDIT:
So writing style was ok yeah? just the plot and the concept rubbish (as i expected)?
time was really the reason that i didn't do the doom thing (EDIT: i only decided to do the challenge only 2 days before deadline). I really did want to try that part out and sod the whole interview idea but being only a short story and me being someone who writes a hell of a lot, it would have been an epic.
EDIT:
So writing style was ok yeah? just the plot and the concept rubbish (as i expected)?
Yeah, I liked the idea, but I think you approached it from the wrong direction. The whole Doom-esque oilrig situation sounded fun. Maybe if you'd concentrated the story on that more? It felt a bit rushed, if you know what I mean.
Promising, though. I liked the description of the room they're holding him in, so you've got no problems when it comes to creating an atmosphere. I'd just suggest you need to work on making it more engaging.
Promising, though. I liked the description of the room they're holding him in, so you've got no problems when it comes to creating an atmosphere. I'd just suggest you need to work on making it more engaging.
I didn't say the plot was strong, but I guess what I meant was that the mystery of the blood and the "monsters" was resolved in a reasonably satisfying way.
I can't say I love it, but the plot is well set out.
Funny, i thought the plot and especially the ending were its major weaknesses. I had to think really hard as to how to prevent the story from turning into a droning conversation.
Funny, i thought the plot and especially the ending were its major weaknesses. I had to think really hard as to how to prevent the story from turning into a droning conversation.
Pretty good. I can't say I love it, but the plot is well set out.
Heres my entry and it has not been checked very throughly and nor did i have much time to compose it. Neverless, an entry is an entry. Heres the story.
The same questions were asked and the same answers were repeated. The interrogation had carried on for what seemed like hours and to the idle observer, little or no progress seemed to be made. The same conversation, repeated again and again like a never-ending nightmare still spiralling out of control. The young questioned man buried his face in his hands with frustration, the interrogators were simply not listening and it was eating away at his soul. The single light bulb in the room illuminated the bare grey walls splattered with blood and the basic furniture merely made the whole ordeal more depressing.
“Please continue to co-operate with us Mr Jake Thornton, if you intend to finish this “unnecessary, discriminate questioning”, again, explain what happened” the policeman coolly reminded. Thornton stared upwards at the 2 men in black suits sat opposite him, one black man, one white, both wearing shades and unemotional at his plight of suffering. No doubt detectives who had grown use to hardened men break down under their intense bombardment of questions.
“I’ve already told you! How many times must I tell you? Please, you have to believe me, I-“
“Since you are so unwilling to help us, we’ll help you. Tell us, why were you on the oilrig?” queried the black policeman.
Thornton sighed, “My friends and I had problems with our boat”
“What problems did you have that warranted you to trespass on private property?” snared the white policeman who was taking notes on the single piece of lined paper on the table.
“There was a leak on the boat, had we not gone onto the oil rig, we would have drowned in that storm”
The policeman wrote down the notes for the tenth time and stared at his companion who sat patiently. “Sorry George, carry on.” Spoke the white policemen. “Thanks john” replied “George” and continued with the questioning.
“You said that you went exploring on the oil rig to pass the time for the storm to subside, what did you discover?”
“A secret lab? Possibly doing some illegal experiments”
“Illegal? In what way?” inquired “George” his left eyebrow now raised with renewed interest.
“Germ or biological warfare?” Thornton haphazardly guessed “I came to that conclusion after we found containment areas and when Brian stupidly drank from an open can of flat cola”
“George” paused. “Please continue”
Thornton stared downwards towards the table, the whole ordeal replayed in his mind as he tried to remember, he repeated all of it. Ever since they had ventured into the secret labs and his best friend Brian got infected, Thornton’s life became a nightmare. Brian mutated into a soulless monster and had hunted them one by one and turning them into hosts for more monsters. For hours the surviving members fought against the numerous waves of creatures in a retreating skirmish back to the surface of the oilrig. Half of his friends were killed trying to fight their way back to the blast doors, another sacrificed himself to seal the blast doors to the inner lab and Thornton’s last friend, his girl friend Lisa, plunged to her death when a rusting metal gantry buckled under the weight of the remaining supplies she carried and collapsed. An almost ironic, everlasting scaring reminder of the bloodshed, horror of his lucky escape from the death trap that was the oilrig. He didn’t expect the “policemen”, to understand or believe him, all he wanted was the ordeal to end.
“I don’t think you really did see any monster or parasitic organism, I think that you killed your friends in cold-blood, there were numerous shots on the body you identified as Brian with the light arms you carried when the rescue helicopter picked you up!” “George” stared hard into Thornton’s eyes, his voice nothing more then a harsh whisper.
“There was NO evidence that there was a secret lab on the oil rig, NO evidence that there was even any organism that you vaguely described on board! I think you made it all up. As we speak, divers are combing the area for their bodies of your other friends.”
“Please I can prove everything I said if I just showed you in person where-“ Thornton’s pleading was cut short
“We’ve heard enough MR Thornton, you’re being charged with multiple murders! John, do the honours!”. “George” opened the door where 2 attendants waited to take Thornton away. Thornton stared on in disbelief and disgust, all this questioning had lead to this; he failed to convince any of them of his innocence. Justice had seemingly gone blind. “John” stood up, to this point he had been unemotional to the whole ordeal, merely writing notes. “John” and “George” didn’t need the police disguises anymore, they heard enough to carry out the plan. He grinned.
“Mr Jake Thornton you once questioned us why there was blood was on the walls” The agent pulled out a pistol. “This is why” Thornton’s jaw dropped and his eyes were wide open. The agent fired 2 shots in quick succession into Thornton’s head. A fine mist of Blood, bone and brains splattered onto the back wall. The lifeless body slumped forward, his blood continued to seep into the table. The agent never regretted the action of killing him nor the people before him; he never should have taken the boat trip in the first place. They didn’t want someone to blow the governments top secret, highly unethical research that would embarrass and frighten the country and its people over something so horrible. “John” signalled the 2 attendants to clean the mess up and take the corpse to be buried at an unknown location. “George” walked in to the room again to inspect the handy work of his accomplice.
“Jobs done “George”. Let us return to the general and Enlighten him that its all been taken care of. We’ve retrieved the hard files and destroyed the oilrig, along with the creatures inside. Our task is complete. Lets leave for A51”
The same questions were asked and the same answers were repeated. The interrogation had carried on for what seemed like hours and to the idle observer, little or no progress seemed to be made. The same conversation, repeated again and again like a never-ending nightmare still spiralling out of control. The young questioned man buried his face in his hands with frustration, the interrogators were simply not listening and it was eating away at his soul. The single light bulb in the room illuminated the bare grey walls splattered with blood and the basic furniture merely made the whole ordeal more depressing.
“Please continue to co-operate with us Mr Jake Thornton, if you intend to finish this “unnecessary, discriminate questioning”, again, explain what happened” the policeman coolly reminded. Thornton stared upwards at the 2 men in black suits sat opposite him, one black man, one white, both wearing shades and unemotional at his plight of suffering. No doubt detectives who had grown use to hardened men break down under their intense bombardment of questions.
“I’ve already told you! How many times must I tell you? Please, you have to believe me, I-“
“Since you are so unwilling to help us, we’ll help you. Tell us, why were you on the oilrig?” queried the black policeman.
Thornton sighed, “My friends and I had problems with our boat”
“What problems did you have that warranted you to trespass on private property?” snared the white policeman who was taking notes on the single piece of lined paper on the table.
“There was a leak on the boat, had we not gone onto the oil rig, we would have drowned in that storm”
The policeman wrote down the notes for the tenth time and stared at his companion who sat patiently. “Sorry George, carry on.” Spoke the white policemen. “Thanks john” replied “George” and continued with the questioning.
“You said that you went exploring on the oil rig to pass the time for the storm to subside, what did you discover?”
“A secret lab? Possibly doing some illegal experiments”
“Illegal? In what way?” inquired “George” his left eyebrow now raised with renewed interest.
“Germ or biological warfare?” Thornton haphazardly guessed “I came to that conclusion after we found containment areas and when Brian stupidly drank from an open can of flat cola”
“George” paused. “Please continue”
Thornton stared downwards towards the table, the whole ordeal replayed in his mind as he tried to remember, he repeated all of it. Ever since they had ventured into the secret labs and his best friend Brian got infected, Thornton’s life became a nightmare. Brian mutated into a soulless monster and had hunted them one by one and turning them into hosts for more monsters. For hours the surviving members fought against the numerous waves of creatures in a retreating skirmish back to the surface of the oilrig. Half of his friends were killed trying to fight their way back to the blast doors, another sacrificed himself to seal the blast doors to the inner lab and Thornton’s last friend, his girl friend Lisa, plunged to her death when a rusting metal gantry buckled under the weight of the remaining supplies she carried and collapsed. An almost ironic, everlasting scaring reminder of the bloodshed, horror of his lucky escape from the death trap that was the oilrig. He didn’t expect the “policemen”, to understand or believe him, all he wanted was the ordeal to end.
“I don’t think you really did see any monster or parasitic organism, I think that you killed your friends in cold-blood, there were numerous shots on the body you identified as Brian with the light arms you carried when the rescue helicopter picked you up!” “George” stared hard into Thornton’s eyes, his voice nothing more then a harsh whisper.
“There was NO evidence that there was a secret lab on the oil rig, NO evidence that there was even any organism that you vaguely described on board! I think you made it all up. As we speak, divers are combing the area for their bodies of your other friends.”
“Please I can prove everything I said if I just showed you in person where-“ Thornton’s pleading was cut short
“We’ve heard enough MR Thornton, you’re being charged with multiple murders! John, do the honours!”. “George” opened the door where 2 attendants waited to take Thornton away. Thornton stared on in disbelief and disgust, all this questioning had lead to this; he failed to convince any of them of his innocence. Justice had seemingly gone blind. “John” stood up, to this point he had been unemotional to the whole ordeal, merely writing notes. “John” and “George” didn’t need the police disguises anymore, they heard enough to carry out the plan. He grinned.
“Mr Jake Thornton you once questioned us why there was blood was on the walls” The agent pulled out a pistol. “This is why” Thornton’s jaw dropped and his eyes were wide open. The agent fired 2 shots in quick succession into Thornton’s head. A fine mist of Blood, bone and brains splattered onto the back wall. The lifeless body slumped forward, his blood continued to seep into the table. The agent never regretted the action of killing him nor the people before him; he never should have taken the boat trip in the first place. They didn’t want someone to blow the governments top secret, highly unethical research that would embarrass and frighten the country and its people over something so horrible. “John” signalled the 2 attendants to clean the mess up and take the corpse to be buried at an unknown location. “George” walked in to the room again to inspect the handy work of his accomplice.
“Jobs done “George”. Let us return to the general and Enlighten him that its all been taken care of. We’ve retrieved the hard files and destroyed the oilrig, along with the creatures inside. Our task is complete. Lets leave for A51”