Category: Writers Block
mutation
As he walked through the field, mostly grass and soil and a few trees scattered throughout, approximately 150 yards long and about 40 yards wide on each side were buildings, he saw the man, the man he hated but couldn't know he did so.
Walking closer, slowly without haste, towards the end of the man's life, although he didn't know that at the time.
There was no emotion in him, as always, as empty as the void of death itself.
the man didn't know the other's name, but he knew the other's reputation, and knew what he must do.
Jordan, the emotionless one, as he was called, always with no response from him.
He saw fear in the other's eyes, a self-entitled rich elitist who screwed more people out of there hard-earned money than he could count, which he bragged to his other rich friends constantly, but now his life is closer to it's end.
Jordan didn't care, he never did.
he stopped a few feet from the middle-aged man withe no haste to hurry this thing.
'what do you want punk.'
In response, Jordan shot him in the forehead, straight in the center, as always.
Of course the blood didn't bother him, nothing did.
It has been that way for as long as he could remember.
He woke up, and realized he had the dream again, several times a week now, his finest hour, in his own words.
No one can stop me, I don't fear anything, so no one can stop me.
He got up, looking for some clothes to wear. It was two in the morning, and he only got an hour's sleep but It didn't matter. Most nights he didn't sleep at all, a half an hour there, twenty minutes here, but It did no good to try sleeping when he woke up. he would just toss and turn anyway.
His room was as bland as you can imagine, no posters of favorite bands, because he didn't have any, no cd's, nothing to suggest anyone lived there at all, except for a desk with a few drawers in it, a chair next to it, and his top-of-the-line bed, which is the only way he'd sleep in the night.
There was also a television set there as well, which he barely used, and his cell phone.
He walked across the room to where it was charging on his desk.
The desk itself was wooden, oldfashioned in his era, the 2040's, or somewhere around that date.
the Gregorian A.D calendars came out of use in the early 2033 June to July range, noone ever knew for sure why.
On his desk was his computer, a necisary thing for an assasin like him to have, a few papers.
One read: InterGalactic Bank of istmus.
This notice concerns a mister. Jordan Falanenks from southern Brinferd, callinger.
Basically there was a lot of money given to him after his father and mother died, just a month ago.
The others were mostly checklists of things already done and to be thrown away.
they were from a few years ago, and jordan never bothered to throw them away.
The computer was a top-of-the-line Acer.
His cell rang. He picked it up.
Most phones were video and such, but his was as basic as it could get.
'We've got a situation' dario said into the other line.
'what is it dar.'
'Brad's gone missing.'
Jordan was part of an obscure group called secure systems, but the part that concerns us most is the sub-branch called assasins Inc.
Noone knew of it except for a select few for good reason.
It dealt with harsher measures against criminals, greedy elitist taking too much power, and other such riff-raff. 'I'll be there as soon as I can.'
Jordan hung up, putting the phone in his pocket.
the living room was emty as well, only two couches and a lazy boy.
He walked into the kitchen where a table and a few chairs were. He opened the fridge. Emtier than he thought, but there was no shock, no wonderment, but he did think there was more than what was in it.
He got his breakfast and lunch out and closed the door. Gotta go shopping soon, he thought rummaging through cabinets and drawers looking for utensils, plates and the like.
He sat and ate, thinking of the recent recon mission in L.A and knew Oliver was next. It was a shame, but he really could've cared less, even if it was his own brother. He looked around for his bookbag, helmet and riding gear.
He rode north towards bridgefield.
The idea behind this one is, Jordan has no soul, or at least a mutated soul which makes him emotionless, lacking interests that most people would have. Not sure where I'm going with it yet. More coming soon.
7 hours later.
Detective Jonson looked around his office for his notes on the current murder, one of Jason tulez, a business owner from California.
It seems It was a professional job, Noone knows who.
Everyone guesses why though. It's not difficult, the man was a dick to most of his friends, and his customers, taking money from them left and right, so pretty much everyone is a suspect. Menny elitists and other supporters Have been shot down in cold blood, and as far as he could see there was no evidence to prove anyone.
His videophone rang, 'hello?" "there's been another one, sir."
It was sullivan his supervisor. This latest one was a bit different. The man on the floor of the shop was barely recognizable as human. A lieutenant stepped closer to the detective.
"I don't give a rat's ass who sent you here, It's sullivan's," He paused because sullivan walked in.
He waved away the lieutenant and waved Jonson closer to the yellow tape.
'This one's new,' I said.
'I know, we suspect It's not the same people as before.' Or they've let it look that way, he thought to himself.
but the rest of there conversation doesn't concern us. we look closer at the body and surrounding vicinity.
Most of the brains were melted by this point, and as for the head, there's no way to say where it is. blood is everywhere. It even managed to get on the yellow tape, surrounding walls, and even an open room four doors down.
The only reason they know it's a body is becaus the legs were dismembered from the body, and were sliced four or five times on each leg, making the leg sever.
the victim's clothes were stripped off him and lay beside him in tatters, also soaked in blood, almost black with it.
If we were medical doctors, we'd barely recognize the hart, considering it was cut up with something.
But now we're distracted by a sound, a constant drip drip, and ragged breathing, barely audible considering the detective's and Sulivan's loud voices.
But the lieutenant noticed and shouted for sullivan and Jonson to be quiet so they can hear.
'what the hell, 'never seen something so, so.'
Jonson was almost about to faint, listening very hard.
'Call nine one one!'
The hospital staff was puzzled that aaron was even alive, but they tried to save him and almost did, but the man was a bit too far gone for there administrations, but before he died he whispered, 'storm's coming, beware.'
both sullivan and the lieutenant blinked. Jonson was given smelling salts and the like, He didn't hear, and didn't believe sullivan or the lieutenant when they told him what they heard.
But soon enough he will, Jordan thought, they all will.
Of course Jordan claimed to be this man's family, and since there were no records in the hospital to say otherwise, he wasn't stopped by anyone.
But soon enough, there will be chaos in the streets, riots, and menny other things that would make the detective wonder what the poor man actually knew.
I think you've got an interesting premmase. There is an air of mystery. I was intreagued by the story, bt the writing tself was difficult to follow. One second you're describing a scene, the next you're speaking directly to us, the readers, breaking the fourth wall in a manner I've never really seen before. The informatio you provide is interesting, but the exicution is difficlt. The tense shifts require some work, and sentenses need restructuring. Essentially this needs a ton of editing. I'd go over certain examples, but I don't know if you'd appreciate it. If you want me to explain myself more, let me know. There's nothing more annoying than the kinds of comments I've just made, but unforunately these are issues any writer needs to deal with. Keep writing, and keep improving your craft. Despite my harsh critisism, it's incredibly refreshing to see anACTUAL story posted on the boards. Hopefully others will read this and offer useful feedback. I will, if you wanted me to.
It's true, It wasn't done well, but I haven't been able to write for a very long time, I Haven't got writing down to a science yet, but It's only a rough draft.
I Usually end up editing after a few days of what I like to call "cooling the draft," but I do appreciate the criticism, gives a perspective of what I should do with it and such..
It's a very interesting premise, like Guardian said. Needs some work with Pov and such, but a good story is a good story. Keep it up! I've always enjoyed assassin stories.
i love it! keep up the awesomeness!