Escaping Damnation - Final Part

[Grit]

Erik and David reach the large stone structure by mid-afternoon. It is a massive landmark, reaching over forty feet into the sky, and seemingly smooth. It does not look constructed as it is all one piece, something born. Nothing else stone is within sight, this rock stands alone.

“This is it. Follow me.” David instructs and leads Erik to the foot of the structures front. Lying on the ground in front of the large rock is a square stone. Now that they are closer, Erik notices that the large rock emanates heat. David stands upon the square stone, and with a grating scratch, it disappears downwards under his weight.

“Now go to the other side, and step on the other stone.” David orders as he squats on the stone square.

Erik walks around the large rock monument, reaching out with his hand, in awe of the natural heat. He stands upon the stone, and just like it’s twin, it lowers into the ground with an ugly noise. He steps off of it and the stone remains in the ground. Erik jogs quickly back to David, excited to enter.

Where David stands, there used to be smooth seamless rock, now there is a doorway. Erik and David enter; the inside is cold and their breath fogs up. The doorway continues on like a cold stone tunnel and Erik starts down this pathway.

Erik hears the sound of clinking and heavy thumps and becomes frightened, only to turn and realize it’s David struggling to carry Marilyn, the bag dragging behind him. They walk on this tunnel for more than an hour, which frustrates Erik because he thought the walk would only take as long as it would take to walk to the rock monuments middle.

Then the tunnel opens up into a large circular chamber, statues of gothic creatures line the wall. Immediately when one enters the chamber, there is a stand, which holds a sharp fleck of stone. In front of this is a large basin, in the very centre of the room. There are drains on the floor, and pipes hang from the ceiling above the basin.

Erik turns to David, who stops by the fleck of stone and the stand. “How does this work? Let’s get this going.” Erik says impatiently.

“You must stand near the basin.” David says calmly. Erik stands beside the basin and notices that underneath the drains are slanted. He wonders what purpose drains serve inside.

With a scream David lunges at Erik, driving the fleck of stone into his head, causing him to lose consciousness. His head wobbles and then crunches heavily against the drain as he falls, blood spattering and flowing down the drain. David then cuts exasperates the bleeding with the sharp stone knife and it flows freely down the drain.

Soon, the pipes begin rumbling and shaking, and blood begins pouring out of them like from a fountain. The basin fills slowly and David begins preparing Marilyn. He confidently opens the bag and places the bones in the basin one at a time. A femur. A jaw. Some fingers.

Now the basin is full to the brim, and David places the final piece inside, the sternum. He watches anxiously, his heart beating furiously. “C’mon.” He whispers feverishly. He plunges his hands into the blood, feeling the cold bones, no change. He remembers that he drank the blood the first time, the coppery taste and thick texture. He knows this is different, but he thought it would work.

David massages Marilyn in her red bath, whispering praise of her form and hoping for animation, but soon he loses hope. His face shatters and he screams, flipping the basin, sending blood in an arc, and splattering the wall like a painter. The bones of Marilyn, his wife, clatter to the floor, soaked in crimson. His face stops, and his eyes bug out of his head.

“What did you say? You mock me; don’t even dare show yourself now. It’s too late, not fair. If I had known, I would never have taken this path. Never. I’m a good man, I don’t deserve that fate.”

David stops and listens for a moment. His face goes pale.

“No, I’ll never die. You’ll never get your hands on me. Even if I have to spend the rest of eternity a hermit, living off barnacles and sleeping in shadows, you’ll never get me.”

[hillwalker]

Not the conclusion I was expecting when I read Part 1 - and you admit yourself that some of the story was written in haste to get to the next interesting bit.

If you think of a story like a movie - the best directors don't waste time telling a story in painstaking detail from the very beginning to the climax. They jump-cut from one critical scene to the next. On the other hand, cheapshot directors concentrate on every tiny detail - showing someone entering a room, closing the door, taking off a jacket and pulling up a chair. They also waste a lot of film on car journeys where we watch Mr X travelling from A to B. Why do they do this - because they haven't got much else in the way of plot to keep the viewer interested.

I think if you did away with the boring bits and forgot about having to account for every day from the moment erik escaped to the end this would be a faster paced story with more variety to keep the reader engrossed.

I also think the third-person narrative is fine - but writing in present tense was a bad choice. It doesn;t work particularly well in such a long-drawn-out saga - it's better suited to a tale where the action is condensed into a short time-frame.

And finally - a sure sign of a story stumbling is when the reader has to draw sketches and take notes to keep track of where the rocks were in relation to each other and what lay beyond the door. So much detail to memorize in order to keep track of where they were heading - not great story-telling.

But there's hope at the end of the tunnel (forgive the pun) - you know where the weaknesses are. If you believe in the plot strongly enough I'm sure it can be salvaged.

H

[Grit]

Not the conclusion I was expecting when I read Part 1 - and you admit yourself that some of the story was written in haste to get to the next interesting bit.

If you think of a story like a movie - the best directors don't waste time telling a story in painstaking detail from the very beginning to the climax. They jump-cut from one critical scene to the next. On the other hand, cheapshot directors concentrate on every tiny detail - showing someone entering a room, closing the door, taking off a jacket and pulling up a chair. They also waste a lot of film on car journeys where we watch Mr X travelling from A to B. Why do they do this - because they haven't got much else in the way of plot to keep the viewer interested.

I think if you did away with the boring bits and forgot about having to account for every day from the moment erik escaped to the end this would be a faster paced story with more variety to keep the reader engrossed.

I also think the third-person narrative is fine - but writing in present tense was a bad choice. It doesn;t work particularly well in such a long-drawn-out saga - it's better suited to a tale where the action is condensed into a short time-frame.

And finally - a sure sign of a story stumbling is when the reader has to draw sketches and take notes to keep track of where the rocks were in relation to each other and what lay beyond the door. So much detail to memorize in order to keep track of where they were heading - not great story-telling.

But there's hope at the end of the tunnel (forgive the pun) - you know where the weaknesses are. If you believe in the plot strongly enough I'm sure it can be salvaged.

H

Well, thanks for reading through it, I'm sure it wasn't easy. I appreciate the advice and you remind me of what I SHOULD know...I've read countless books on story and movies and structure, but it all can fly right out the window if you don't think about it can't it? This story could be salvaged but that's not my style, I'm working on something else already, hopefully this one will be more of a page-turner (mouse-clicker actually).

[hillwalker]

Ok - but you strike me as someone who writes a story, and once the last full stop is in place that's it finished with.

One of the few things I have learned (through bitter experience) is when you write a story it can be like building a house. You put in all the extras from the foundations to the roof because that's how a story is supposed to be written. but once you've finished, if you come back to it a few days later you'll realise that some of it is no longer necessary. Those bits that acted as the scaffolding while you were constructing the house. Now it's completed these need to be pulled down and discarded to allow the story to stand on its own feet.

Editing is as important a part as the initial writing (though admittedly a lot less fun).

h