General Art Life is Death

[Sheik]

So...
I've always loved writing. In class, I often just stare off into space, thinking about my characters and what battles, suspense, and adventures they would go through. One time I was writing an awesome story for my pal in fifth grade, but I threw it away after I was about 70 pages through only because the notebook was ripping up (I was dumb), and he was furious at me for weeks.
I think he liked it.
A big problem I have with my stories is that I usually stop and start something else or restart because I just HAVE to get a "better" idea, so if I feel like stopping, give me a good slap in the face, will ya?
I don't really know all that much about the writing around here, and I've also seen "character sign-ups" but I'll just assume that's optional.

So here goes!
Life is Death- Book One: Follow
Rating: Teen
I hope you enjoy!


Chapter One: Mistakes

Spoiler

Lady Vain sipped out of her glass. Another boring meeting, she thought. Goodness, when will I ever get a break?

She and eleven of her men were sitting around a rectangular table in a dimly lit stone chamber, discussing plans. Lady Vain, her cheek resting on the palm of her hand and her elbow on the table (rather impolitely), was incredibly bored. She never had a fundamental part in the meetings; she usually just sat there, not listening, and later became really confused when somebody asked her something.

The voices of her men drifted away and became like several chatty birds in the background. Now how in the world did I get in this mess? she thought. How did I become creator and leader of the Children of the Dead?

Then she remembered. The pain. The sadness. The crying. The blood.

The regret.

Lady gripped her glass tightly. Damn it all! she screamed mentally. It's all because of me, my stupidity and my selfishness, that I sipped from it before telling... them.

Her eye twitched. She had to contain her self anger in front of her men; they'd treat her like an insane minor if she went and threw a tantrum.

She pitied herself. I am crazy though, she thought. Crazy to sip from it. Crazy to create this army for my own stupid goals.

She remembered something else and her self pity and loathing turned to ambition. They're not away forever, she thought. If my plans turn out correctly, then I could reverse it. I could see them again.

A horrible flaw flashed across her mind. She knew what she had to do to follow through with her plans. She would have to bring sorrow and pain and rip apart families. The worst part, though, was that she would have to get the help of one of the people who had murdered them... one of the people who destroyed her life. She had heard rumors that, even after they had all been exterminated, there was still one left. And if the rumor wasn't true, well, she could possibly create one of her own.

Lady's grip tightened on her glass. Her stomach twisted. It was anger. Energy full of anger was rushing inside her, spiraling forward and backward in blind fury.

It was all their fault! It was all because of them!

Crack! Wine and blood soaked the marble table. "Lady Vain!" Lieutenant Webb gasped, startled.

Lady Vain picked out the shards of her glass from her hand. "Yes, Lieutenant?" she said, trying to act casual.

"Lady, would you like me to get you to the infirmary? You need to get your hand bandaged immediately!"

Lady slid out of her throne and began walking to the door. "I can fix it myself, Lieutenant!" she replied, walking away.

"But- but Lady, it could get infected!"

Lady Vain spun around. Her glaring eyes, cloaked in irritation, pierced into Webb. "Are you patronizing me?" she spat. "Do you think I am weak, so weak that I can't take care of a simple cut myself?"

Her men seemed as if they wanted to hide, to abandon the room, and to get away from her. They were afraid of her. "Of c-course not, Lady" Webb responded poorly.

Lady grimaced. She couldn't contain her hatred much longer. She had to let it out on somebody.

"I don't believe you are being completely truthful, Lieutenant." Lady began to pace. "In the inside, you still think I am weak. That I am still a little girl. But I am much more than that." She stopped and laughed. "Ha! Tell me, Lieutenant, do you fear me? Is that why you are so obnoxiously overprotective, that if any tiny thing comes to me, that it will be you who gets punished, from me, for not being at my side? Speak honestly."

All eyes met Webb, even the frightful, anxious eyes who new what was coming for Webb. "I... of course not, Lady." Webb was shaking. "I fear nothing..."

"You disobeyed my order, Leiutenant. You didn't speak truthfully." Lady Vain gripped her fingers around something at her belt, but it was too dark in the room to see what it was. "I'd like your opinion, Lieutenant. Colonel Samuel Glass... Do you think he'd make a suitable replacement?

Webb's face showed terror. He dropped to his knees. "No, no, no... Please, please don't fire me... I have a family I need to feed, to take care of... I need the money for them... Please, please don't fire me..."

Lady Vain smiled. "Who said anything about firing?"

Webb got to his feet and bowed, exhaling gasps of relief. "Thank you, Lady. You show unconditional merc-"

The knife protruded into Webb's throat. He fell to the cold floor, panting and squirming, until his eyes turned blank.

There was silence. The ten other of Lady Vain's men lowered their heads and slumped down into their chairs in fear that they would meet the same fate.

"You shriveling wimps!" Lady cried. "You aren't deserving of your titles if you are too weak to look your leader in the eyes with courage! You aren't the bold, capable, sturdy followers I need!" She left the chamber, the iron door slamming shut loudly behind her.

Eh, screw it.
Chapter Two: Omega

Spoiler

The sunlight parted at the branches until only small beams could make it through the dense canopy that shadowed the ground below it. Logan watched two sqirrels chasing each other. They raced up the trunks and danced along the branches playfully.

He made sure to keep himself as silent and motionless as he possibly could at the risk of scaring off the animals, even if it meant putting up with the ticklish tall grasses of the forest grove.

"You seem to be pretty bored."

Logan lifted his head and looked around from side to side. "Behind you," said the voice. It was a girl. He turned around and saw her lying on the ground like he was, but in the opposite direction. She was covered from head to toe in odd heavy winter clothing. She wore large, colorful gloves and thick jeans, and her face was mostly covered by the hood of her coat. She was pale, but her
glowing caramel hair was like a lighthouse in the midst of the green of the woods.

"Why are you wearing such heavy clothes?" Logan asked. "It's not that cold out here."

The girl sighed. "Better safe than sorry," she said.

Logan lied back down on the earth. He was about to ask her what her name was, but she talked first and pointed out, "Don't the trees look like they're on fire?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, the red and orange leaves seem to give off the illusion of the trees being aflame."

Logan squinted at the trees. "I don't get it," he said. "They're just leaves. Is there something I'm not getting?"

The girl sighed again. "How can you not see it?" There was a moment of silence until she said, "Aha! I could teach you! I could teach you to look at things in different ways!"

"How can you teach somebody how to look at things?" he asked.

"Not how to look at things, Logan."

"How did you-"

"How to look at the world in different ways! You can't just linger at the same side of the rainbow. You need to observe the world on every side! Top, bottom, left, right, front, back, edges, corners- look at the inside from different places on the outside!" The girl seemed to feel very illustrious.

"Wow," said Logan. "I've never looked at it like that."

"See? You just did it there!" The girl was beaming. "Either you're a fast learner or I'm just a really good teacher."

Logan sat up. "This is great. Could I learn more about looking at the world?" he requested.

"Of course! So, let's up the scale a bit more. Think bigger than leaves."

"Hmm... the tree?" he guessed.

"Think bigger!" she said.

"The forest?" "Bigger!" "What about Janington?" "C'mon! You have to stretch your mind out more! Think as large as you possibly can!" "Okay... what about the world? ...Everything?"

"Of course!" The girl jumped into the air and opened her arms up widely. "The world! All! Everything!" The enthusiasm she radiated was astounding. "It also just happens to be that everything is the intellectual limit of the human mind, so let's not try to go any farther than that..."

"Wow," said Logan. "I really can't imagine more than everything..."

The girl giggled. "Yeah... That's what I just said, silly! So, what do you think everything is, Logan?"

He rubbed his chin. "Well..." he said. "Everything is all. Entirety."

"Well, that's true, but let's just say everything is one, yet many." Logan blinked. "Okay, I guess I should facilitate this for you. Better yet, I could make a comparison. Let's say everything is a gear. One big gear, but is made of many smaller gears. That means that every small thing makes up one big thing." Logan nodded. "But what do gears do?"

"They push each other," Logan replied.

"Yes! So that means that everything on earth pushes each other, affects one another!"

"I get it!" said Logan, pondering. "So that means that everything... is one giant system of smaller things!"

"Exactly!" said the beaming girl. "We've done it, Logan! We've uncovered the interpretation of everything! See, isn't looking at things from different perspectives so influencing? It's a fresh new view on an otherwise boring world!"

"Yeah," Logan agreed.

"You know," said the girl. "Looking at things in different ways is really helpful sometimes."

Logan blinked. He knew of some stumbling blocks he could use this to tackle.

The girl smiled charmingly at him. "You could be a good friend!" she said. "You seem to be about my age, and you're a good learner, too. Why don't we come back here sometime again, please?"

"How will we know when to meet?" Logan inquired.

"Don't worry about that. I've got it covered." She turned around and began to waddle away in her heavy winter clothes.

"Wait!" Logan exclaimed. "What is your name?"

The girl turned her head and responded, "You can call me Omega."

Logan blinked. What an odd name. But before he could ask her about it, the girl had vanished. Toted away with the forest breeze. And now Logan was alone with the flaming trees.

 

[Ganondork]

Hey there. I think this is a pretty interesting start to the story. It's intriguingly vague, and I can't wait to see what you have in store.

Now then, I do have a bit to critique. I'm going to go ahead and save the "Add more details" lecture for another day, and deal more with your diction. I'm certainly seeing the foundations of diverse terminology in this piece, but there still needs to be more. I'd say your best friend would be a thesaurus right now. Do understand though, I'm not asking you to turn "Scream" into "Vociferation," I'm just saying to turn words like "Obnoxious" to "Rambunctious" and similar, slightly higher-level terms. As you explore more of the English language, then you can take that leap into a larger vocabulary.

So that's my critique for now. Go to Thesaurus.com when you're writing and occasionally look for a synonym for a basic word. It'll help diversify your diction, and really make your vocabulary shine.

 

[Sheik]

Uhh... Well I just lost like 80% of the chapter two I was writing...
I had it all down, and I clicked Submit, it asked me to sign in (which I was) and I clicked Restore blah blah and I only got back part of it... I'll just leave it with what it gave me for now and retype whatever I remember some other day...

 

[Sheik]

Chapter 3: The Endangered

Spoiler

Peril came charging at Brocar with the practice blade in hand. Brocar lept to the side and swung his staff low, hitting Peril in the shins and tripping him. He slid along the greasy floor of the training hall. "Damn it, Cynthia! You didn't tell me the floor would be this slippery!" he bellowed.

Cynthia laughed from the staircase above. "What, do you think every little condition of the battlefield will be explained to you beforehand?" she said sharply, arms crossed. "You have to learn how to quickly analyze it by yourself during battle. Decipher your best option in the circumstance and elect it."

"How would I have time for that?" Peril pushed himself off the floor and grasped his blade. "It's not like my enemies will stop and let me think it through!" Brocar swung his staff at Peril's head. Peril ducked to evade the attack and thrust his blade at Brocar, who jumped back, but slipped on the icy floor and fell backwards.

"While that is true," said Cynthia. "It does not take away the fact that you need to think quickly alongside moving. You need more training to hasten your mind. How about... timed math tests?"

"Just knock me out already," Peril grunted at Brocar. He looked up at Cynthia and said, "Hey, peanut gallery! I have an idea! What if I actually practiced... outside? I'm sure I can quicken my wits by, maybe, thinking where to run away from angry swarms of wasps and trying to decide what to order from the bakery before I get to the front of the line, eh?"

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Haven't I already explained this to you countless times, Peril? It's much too threatening to your race if people were to know of your existance!"

"Oh, well that's just peach- Hey!" Brocar's staff hit Peril's right shoulder vertically. He fell over, curling up and holding his now bruised shoulder. "Um, we're in the middle of something here!" he cried. "Can this wait?"

"Nice one, Brocar," Cynthia smirked. Brocar grinned back.

Peril scowled. "Whatever. That was totally unfair."

"Well, you can't just stop being alert, Peril," Cynthia said. "I don't remember combat working like that. Hey, Brocar got a fair strike on you, and you simply got taken down."

"Why are you never on my side?" Peril barked, grabbing his practice blade. He scaled the weapon shelf and then lept onto Brocar's broad shoulders, grip on his hair. "Ha! Gotcha now!" he boasted. Brocar winked at Cynthia and did what nearly gave Peril a heart attack; he jumped up and did a full flip in the air with him on his shoulders. The force threw Peril off of Brocar and straight at the wall of the practice hall. Peril cringed at the impact. "The hell, Brocar?" he howled. He tried to stand up, but the pain weighted him down. "This is incredibly unfair!" he complained, wiping the dust off his shirt. "A fourteen year old kid against this brawny guy who has to be almost twice my age!"

Brocar had a guilty look on his face, but Cynthia was just chuckling. "Ha!" she snickered mirthfully. "You really kicked the kid's *** this time!" Peril grimaced.

"Mom, do you have to be so malicious?" Peril looked up and saw Iris, Cynthia's daughter, standing at the door next to where he had been flung. "Seriously!" she pouted, hands on her hips. "This poor boy here-" Peril screamed on the inside. "-is the last one of his kind, and is possibly being hunted down at this moment! Show the kid the compassion he deserves!"

"I don't need compassion," Peril grumbled. "What I could use is some freedom. And who are you calling kid? We're the same age, nitwit."

Iris flung around, her long black hair swirling above Logan. "Get off the ground. I made you brownies, so you'd better be grateful." Logan raised an eyebrow. Wow, he thought, I can be hated really quickly. Iris left the room and returned with a plate of yummy chocolate treats. She (rather grouchily) handed some to Peril, who stuffed them inside his bag to eat later. "Thaaanks," he moaned.

"You're weeelcome," she mocked. "Geez, what's with the floor in this place?" She set the brownies over at the other side of the hall and sat down eagerly. "I'll watch. This better be exciting."

"Trust me, it won't be, sweetie," said Cynthia.

Peril got up effortfully and took his blade. "Let's get this over with," he groaned. He dashed forward and began to spar once more with Brocar. Just to think... Just to think what my life would be if I weren't the locked-up secret I am. If I didn't hold the last of the blood of the feared and unspeakable race, the Aeternese.

 

[Ganondork]

Well, this story has certainly become more interesting with each chapter. Your diction has certainly improved, and you are showing overall improvement with each chapter. I'm excited to see what comes up next.

If I had to offer you critique, it'd be to cut out the said-bookisms. You love to substitute "Said" with words like "Complained," "Groaned," "Screamed," etc. Those are bad. While your fourth grade teacher may have said it was good writing, she was very incorrect. The reason being that if you use a said-bookism, it doesn't really leave much for you to describe. If you don't want to overload, "Said" after each piece of dialogue, then just follow the dialogue with an action instead. Either of those two are viable options, just avoid said-bookisms.

I'm excited for more. You are improving, and that's what's important.

 

[Sheik]

Thanks. I think that was one of the things I was unsure about, or I just didn't really know what was the best thing to do, so from now on I'll use less said subs. Also, I'm finally done switching perspectives; The next chapter will probably go back to Logan instead of once again introducing a new "cast"... I think it's called Story A and Story B. So, now, Logan is Story A and Peril is Story B, so Chapter 4, it's back to A.

 

[Sheik]

Chapter 4: Anticipation

Spoiler

Logan took a deep breath and peeked into the kitchen. Mrs. Ross was standing next to the stove with the skillet in front of her. She was quietly and probably unawarely singing a strange song to herself. Logan could barely make out a few lines. "And then I saw the world flip... And my friend was next to me..." The rest of her singing was practically humming. She was slowly losing her memory. Logan guessed that was why she seemed to not know the rest of the lyrics. The tune, though, was oddly entrancing. Logan lost himself a bit while listening to it. He nearly forgot why he was there.

"Ah, of course!"

"Hmm?" Mrs. Ross stopped humming and looked into the hallway. Nobody was there. She shrugged and continued her cooking. Logan uttered a breath of relief in the bathroom. He was expected to be out in the gardens with the other children. The rule in the Janington's orphanage was that you could not see what Mrs. Ross was cooking before it was ready, which was why she sent everybody outside. If you snuck a peek at what she was preparing, it's no dinner for you.

Logan looked into the mirror. He was twelve, almost thirteen, but was small, and had brown eyes and dark hair. He was average... then. He was maturing, though, and it was time he should know.

He rummaged through his memories what he had been advised. Earlier that day, he had gone to the forest. Omega hadn't contacted him in a week, so he was going there to check. He felt fairly confident about it, though. He had a feeling in his gut that she would be there.

She was standing in the middle of the grove. "Omega!" Logan said. "...That's what I should call you, correct?" She nodded. Logan lept over some moss-covered logs and dashed to the grove.

"It's great to see you again!" said Omega. She came up to Logan, grabbed his hand and shook it.

"Huh? You don't have to act so formal."

"Oh, sorry!" Omega turned red. "It's just that where I come from, formal is a must. I'm still getting used to being on my own out he-" Logan blinked, puzzled. "Oh, nevermind, I never said anything." She shook Logan's hand harder.

Logan laughed. "Okay, okay, you can stop now."

Omega pulled her hand away. "I apologize, I didn't sleep well last night."

Logan observed her. She was once again in her unusually heavy winter clothing, but her face was different. She didn't look as exuberant as last time; in fact, she looked rather worn out, and she had some cuts and bruises on her face. "Hey... Is everything alright?"

Omega looked down at the leaf-covered ground. "I'm perfectly fine," she answered.

Logan kicked some of the leaves around. "...Yeah. I don't believe you, but..."

Omega smiled. "Don't worry about it. Anyways, you called me here, so what's the reason?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "I didn't... Er, I probably shouldn't argue," he said. Omega nodded with a proud grin. "But... Could I ask a favor? Something's been bothering me lately."

"What is it?" Omega had asked.

Logan washed his hands at the sink, staring at himself through the mirror. He heard the playful noises of the other orphanage kids outside. They were throwing, wrestling, climbing, and Logan wasn't. He didn't care though. He wasn't very fond of them. There were only seventeen others (it was a small orphanage as Janington was a small village. In fact, it was more like the house of a lady with eighteen grandchildren). Logan was somewhat antisocial, but he could tolerate having to share a room with three other boys.

"Hmm..." Omega had sat down, eyes closed, musing. "Well... remember what I said? Look at things in a different way? I think... I think you could look at this differently. Think..." She rubbed her forehead. "Think not of her refusing to answer, but of her agreeing. The only way you'll find out is if you ask her, and the only way you'll do that is if you want to, and only that if you think positively about it."

Logan stepped into the kitchen. Mrs. Ross was stirring something. Logan inhaled. "If it makes you feel any better, I was planning on eating somewhere else tonight."

Mrs. Ross turned. "Well, sweetie," she said, taking the food from the skillet and placing it on large plate, "that still means you shouldn't tell any of the others what the food is. Remember-"

"There's no fun without surprises, yeah." Logan ran his hand through his hair. "We usually sit right outside and figure it out by its smell, anyways."

Mrs. Ross looked like she was about to say something, but she stopped. "Ah well." She was smiling, but in a sad way. "You all are growing up. You'll get smarter and smarter... and less easy to deceive. And because of the war bringing eighteen babies and children to my door, there will never be more to replace you." She's right, Logan thought. Janington is healthy and crime-free. Anything bringing orphans would have to be from a larger scale.

"Uh, anyway..." Logan said. "...Can I ask something of you?"

"Of course! What is it, sweetie?"

"...Sorry," Omega had said. "That's all the advice I can give... Wait, there's one more thing!" She jumped up into the air and said strongly, "Look her in the eyes, standing tall, shoulders broad, and say with all the confidence within you..."

"Tell me what you're hiding from me about my parents!"

Mrs. Ross stopped cutting the dish. There was a moment of silence. She looked at him wistfully and said, "I- I'm sorry. I can't tell you right now." She appeared gloomy. "I'm not the one who should tell you... and you're not ready yet..." Logan's eyes widened. "So... Please, don't ask again... I can't tell you..."

Logan's jaw dropped. A knife had just cut right through him. He stood there, astonished and dumbfounded. His mind was blank. Mrs. Ross continued to cut the dish. "...Sorry to waste your time," he said with disappointment.

He was hoping he would find out. He was extremely curious. He was hoping she would tell because he hadn't asked in years and he thought she would consider himself mature enough to know. He didn't care how morbid their deaths were or if they lived awful lives. He had to know. But she didn't tell, and Logan knew nobody else who would know about his parents. Not a word about them had ever been spoken to him. Not one. And he was sick of it.

He contained the aggravation within himself and left the orphanage. He ignored the orphans' freedom and socialism and the ball that came flying at him from behind and made his way to the forest. "Now, if you do what I told you," Omega had said, "then meet me back here later. I'll bring you back to my place and I'll treat you to dinner."

 

[Sheik]

Good lord, this is long
Chapter 5: Rules can be Changed

Spoiler

Peril laid back behind the sliding door, catching his breath. He picked up the gun from the floor, still a bit perplexed by it. He turned to Iris. “So, you're still okay with the fact that you're alone with a crazy kid holding a gun, eh?” he said with a laugh.

Iris shrugged. “I'm not worried,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I would beat you to a pulp if you tried anything, nonetheless.” She snagged the gun out of his hand. “Hey, you're holding it wrong. You see, your index finger goes here, and your palm should go comfortably around here...”

Peril didn't listen. He was still amazed by the fact that she wasn't terrified of him. “Hey- hey, Peril!” said Iris, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Come on, you've had enough break time. We need to get back to training.”

Peril groaned. “Yeah, alright.” He took the gun back from her (making sure he was holding it correctly this time to avoid her rambling) and stood up. He had passed through the first half of the firearms test with only minor cuts and bruises, but the second half was allegedly much more difficult. He had only just learned how to use the gun. It was like Cynthia was rushing the rest of his training. Maybe some rule changed so that I am to be released earlier, he thought. Probably not, though; they wouldn't let him go until he waws one hundred percent capable of protecting himself. Peril always thought the government was a bit overprotective, but it made sense with him.

Peril grasped the handle. He turned around, and Iris gave him a confident nod. He returned it in a don't worry, I've got this sort of way. So, complimentingly, he flung open the door and sprinted in with panic.

He was in the fourth floor of the training hall. He spotted a large important-looking door on the other side, so that was where he decided to go. “Hey, don't get too careless!” Iris warned, following closely. “There'll probably be a surprise thrown your-” She was interrupted by two large gray figures that launched themselves from the ceiling to the floor... through the floor.

“Cynthiaaa!” Peril called, stepping back from the hole.

“Ah, damn it,” said Cynthia, who was watching them from several floors above. “Don't worry, they'll be back up in a few seconds.” She raced back to her usual getting-away-from-this spot in the seventh floor. Peril rolled his eyes.

“Mom's always so flighty on Mondays...” Iris complained.

The hand of one of a silver, scaly monster popped out of the hole. It grabbed hold of the cracked concrete floor. Peril shrugged and casually shot the hand. Two miserable whines grew quieter as the beasts plummeted back down the hole. “Uh... do you know what these are?” Peril asked Iris.

“Sorry,” said Iris with a pestering chuckle. “Not allowed to help.”

“Then why are you even here?” Peril silenced himself as he was covered with the shadow of one of the beasts who had jumped straight up out of the hole and landed with a thud in front of him. It was terrifying; it must've been eight feet tall, had a wolf-like complexion, shiny, reptilian skin, except for a glossy gray mane around its head, golden eyes, and the worst part- snakes for arms. “The hell?” Peril exclaimed, raising his gun and pointing it at the beast. He pulled the trigger without hesitation, but the bullet simply reflected off the beast like a beam of light hitting a mirror.

Peril looked back at Iris, who was waving to him from the corner of the hall. “Good luck!” she said. Peril could tell she was trying to hold back laughter. He sighed and fired again and again at the beast, but the bullets just ricocheted off it and at the walls. The beast crept towards him, sniffing him. Its snake arms hissed and wriggled around.

The beast's buddy came along to join the fun. And thank God, this one had normal arms. The monsters growled and hissed at Peril, who began to question whether or not he was in the right room. Snake Arms rubbed its feet against the floor and began charging at Peril headfirst, its intimidating horns showing. Peril girlishly squealed and ran to the side, and Snake Arms met the wall rather loudly. It fell on its rear, clenching its head. “Well, that's one way to do it,” said Iris, her hands on her hips.

Normal Arms stepped towards Peril, its eyes on fire.

Seriously, on fire.

Its red eyes were oddly mesmerizing to Peril. He felt it within himself; a strange connection to Normal Arms. He had never felt so much relation to a petrifying freaky monster who was out to kill him.

Peril rubbed his eyes. Normal Arms's eyes reverted back to the usual gold. The feeling stirring inside him faded away.

Normal Arms took another step towards Peril and roared. A bit too loudly, though, because it probably woke up some of the inmates. The roar lasted forever until something clicked in Peril's head. He raised his gun and fired it at the roaring beast.

The bullet went into Normal Arms's mouth and literally stretched the back of its neck outward. Its eyes turned blank and it fell back down the hole. Another feeling occurred within Peril. It was like a chain had just snapped in half. He felt himself go dizzy until he heard Iris speak. “One down, Peril! You're better than I expected. Too much better...”

He grinned. “Thank-”

Snake Arms roared behind him. It was even louder than Normal Arms. Logan spun around and immediately readied his gun, but one of the snakes lunged forward and seized it out of his hands. It tossed it up to the main head, which swallowed it out of the air. “Hey!” said Peril. “That was... probably expensive!”

He felt sweat roll down his cheek. Snake Arms's snake arms snapped at Peril, who jumped back to avoid the attack. One of the arms lured off to the side. Peril pointed his gun at the snake, but the attack was inevitable; the snake was just a diversion while the beast's jaws drew towards him. Peril's eyes were faster than his actions, and the beast clamped him, its teeth sinking into Peril's chest.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The biscuits sat on the tray before him in the infirmary. He stared at them hungrily, and he sat forward to reach them. A sudden shock wave of pain hit him, and he quickly returned to where he was. “Yeah. Maybe you weren't ready for that,” said Cynthia, pondering.

Peril looked over at the coat of blood on his shirt. “You don't say?” Brocar and Cynthia were sitting beside his infirmary bed. He had a major headache. “Is it your life goals for me to get constantly beat up?”

Cynthia laughed, her arms crossed. “Well, we do need to toughen you up a bit,” she said. “Hey, just be glad we're not allowed to whip you like with the older ones.”

“Ones” as in “prisoners”. Peril spent his days at Isolation Rock, a high-security prison for the worst of criminals in Regalera. Isolation Rock was surrounded jagged cliffs and mountains, and some giant phoenixes who circled the prison, ready to snatch up anybody who tried to escape. Peril wasn't there for being a criminal, though; he was there for being the last living Aetern.

About fifteen years ago or so, an odd race of people called the Aeternese, who stayed in Aeterna to the west and had little contact with Regalera, quite randomly began invading Regalera, attacking, bombing, killing, and terrorizing. Their means for this were unknown, though. Nothing was ever explained as to why they Aeternese suddenly attacked Regalera. Some claimed it was for ancient treasure, others said it was for Regalerans insulting their culture. But none have been confirmed true. Anyways, the war lasted for three long years, and it greatly shattered both nations. However, around the last year, the Aeternese (again, for an unknown reason) lost their footing. Uprisings and rebellions occurred on both sides, but while Regalera peacefully contained these, Aeterna was greatly shaken. The Regaleran army seized the perfect opportunity and demolished every last Aetern.

Yeah, they went quite a bit off the deep end, and that genocide gave Regalera a harsh reputation for the next few coming years. However, after it was seemingly all over, one very young boy was found and taken to the government. He was named Periculum, after the peril that his race was in. The monks of Regalera decided that he should be kept alive and should repopulate the Aeternese people, otherwise humankind would fall out of balance or something like that. So Peril was taken to Isolation Rock to be trained so that once he was mature and on his own, he would be able to protect himself, as probably many people would kill him without a second thought because of what Aeterna did to Regalera. And because of this, Peril was a secret to anybody outside the government. Nobody was allowed to talk about him to commoners.

What? Impossible. The Aeternese was completely wiped out. There's nobody left... There were only small rumors of there being another Aetern, but luckily, they were nothing anybody would write home about.

Of course, Peril had all this pressure on him. He could hardly go to sleep sometimes because of how he needed to stay alive and repopulate his race. He was pretty miserable in Isolation Rock, though, and wished so greatly that he wouldn't have to wait four more years before being able to leave.

“Eh? AAAGH! Brocar!” Brocar had completely lifted Peril's infirmary bed with him on top.

“Come,” said Cynthia, leading the way out of the infirmary. “You should probably get some breakfast, Peril. After all, you've been unconscious for twenty hours.”

Peril laid back down and decided to allow Brocar to tote him and his entire bed away. He was taken to the dining hall, where sausages and biscuits were awaiting him on a small table. Iris was already there. Brocar set Peril's bed down on the floor next to the table. Peril turned his head and saw the delicious-looking sausages. He reached forward to get one, but he was met with another wave of pain and he retracted. Iris tossed a sausage link to him. “Thanks,” he said, quickly devouring the meat. He took another one and, while chewing, saw Iris staring at him. “Eh? Bwat is its?” he asked with a mouthful of sausages. Iris turned red and quickly looked back down at the biscuits. Peril realized she had been staring at his bare chest. He found it odd, though, because Brocar was shirtless all the time, and nobody ever fussed.

Peril spat out his sausages in realization. She had been staring at his blood tattoos.

The blood tattoos were apparently given to each Aetern at birth. They were meant to show freely that that person was, indeed, an Aetern, and that he or she was proud of it... or something along those lines. The tattoos were made from blood drawn from the preserved bodies of past emperors of Aeterna. Morbid? Yes.

Peril had tattoos covering his entire body, but he could only understand a few of them. There were the phases of the moon on his neck, the symbol of the Aeternese on his back, and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo.

Cynthia and Brocar returned to the room and Alan Chamberlain entered seemingly uninvited. Chamberlain was a former serial killer whom Peril shared the west wing of Isolation Rock with. As much as Peril was embarrassed to admit it, Chamberlain was sort of his role model. Yeah, he had murdered lots of people, but now, he was a wise and humorous guy.

“So, how was training today?” Chamberlain asked, cracking his knuckles. “I've gotta say, it looks like you had lots of fun!”

“Yeah. Brilliant.” Peril crossed his arms behind him and used them as a pillow.

“...Chamberlain, you probably shouldn't be here right now,” Cynthia warned. “Schultz wouldn't be too pleased with you...” Henry Schultz was the supervisor of the left wing of the Rock. He was a pretty unpleasant guy.

Chamberlain ignored this and proceeded to talk to Peril. “So, I hear you went face to face with two Repraemostri, yeah?”

“Repeemon-what?” said Peril, scratching his head.

“What you fought in training,” Cynthia explained, sipping from her coffee. “You see, mankind has tried to create many things, Peril. They've tried to create monsters, humans, even gods. In fact, Alexander, the first ruler of Regalera-”

“The Repraemostri were created by the Aeternese,” Peril guessed. “They were meant to represent the power of Aeterna. And Snake Hands, he was based off this symbol here on my shoulders and arms- the one of the two headed snake devouring the sun and moon, devouring the greatest essences of power.” He blinked. What did he just...

They were all staring at him. “Well... yes,” said Cynthia, dumbstruck. “That is completely true.” So that was why I felt the connection to the Repraemonstri, Peril thought. It was because we're both some of the last of the Aeternese.

Henry Schultz entered the room. “Ah, what do we have here?” he said, straightening his long black coat. “A little get-together? And I wasn't invited. I am a bit offended.”

“It's because we don't want you here,” said Peril under his breath.

Schultz caught the words. “Mr. Periculum, you had better watch your tone. You don't want to get in a heap of trouble, do you?”

Peril rolled his eyes. He saw Schultz watching him, waiting for the right time to strike. Like the snakes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was night, and Peril was having trouble falling asleep. He shared the large cell with Chamberlain. Peril turned over. “Hey... Hey Chamberlain? Do you ever want to escape?” He knew it was a personal question, but he had already asked.

Chamberlain laughed. “Nah, I deserve this. I deserve to rot in this dusty old place... But if I did escape...” He had a wild grin on his face. “...It would be to get away from Schultz.”

“Hey...” said Peril, yawning. “Why do you think Schultz has a grudge on me?”

“Should I tell you?” Chamberlain mused. “Ah, what the heck. It was because his brother was killed by an Aetern back in the war. That's why he hates you- because you are one of them.”

Peril turned white. “Well... God. You can't hate on the family if only one of them did it, right? It's awfully stupid...”

“Watch. Your. Tongue. Periculum.”

“Gah, what the hell!” Logan shouted. Schultz had pretty much appeared out of nowhere. He had a hateful frown on his face.

“You know,” Schultz said, taking a step towards him. “You know that you should be careful with your words, boy.” His face looked ominous. “Remember, I have the power to... punish you.”

“Wrong!” said Peril. “You're not allowed to whip a minor like me! It's against the rules!”

“Rules can be changed, boy. So if I were you, I wouldn't be so carefree.” Schultz stepped back into the looming shadows and vanished once again. Peril rubbed his eyes. What had just happened. Schultz, he thought. He wants to bring me pain, doesn't he?

 

[Ganondork]

I only had time to read chapter 4, but it looks pretty good. My critique for that chapter would certainly be that you use adverbs too much. Try to avoid adverbs as much as possible, as you seem to lean on them for some descriptions. Stephen King, who I love to refer back to when critiquing, said it's a sign of weak writing when someone relies on them. Try and cut back on them and I'm sure your story will greatly improve.