Author Topic: it needs a name  (Read 3053 times)


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on: March 27, 2007, 07:59:49 AM
k this thiss has no name eny ideas  ??? for this or what to eaven classify it really
i had in idea to Call this you better not read this a bunch off odd events. but thats just silly well  enjoy
i like some feed back if you can give it.

Disoriented School 20XX,  depleted class room

A girl of 14 her , body hair and skin peach colour. Even peach coloured eyes ”that’s why I hate this city and all you humans I miss  Sateen” 
then walked  back to a chair,  passing a boy with  scruffy blond hair  that reminds you a little of a wig with purple hair poking out under it  and dark purple eyes. She flashed her eyes at him he blushed,
” Sam, it’s your go”  Sam looked at the white board,  the robot was looking at him “ok”
“my name is Luck Chan” the class snorted and Sam looked embarrassed.
“I mean my name is Sam, I never had a last name, I live in an apartment with  3  people and a cat.  My parent Gabriel wants nothing more than to be an accountant,but has problems keeping a steady job, due to his wardrobe problems . Next, my uncle Melville was a trucker but has lost his arms and legs in truck wreck and spends time at home with the TV. Last but not least, is my house keeper Igor and his cat G5.9.  Igor is a neat freak who was made for modelling, but  something went horribly wrong .I like his cat. I live at Broken Arms apartments where graffiti is a plague, so thanks for listening”. He walked back to his seat and looked out the window,  “Miss Bucket it is your go” as it stared to rain.

Chapter one good guys bad guys :
The rain spattered and fell onto the grey pavement below the window. Sam pressed his head onto the cold, damp glass.
His stomach turned and his head buzzed with the noise and smell of the late afternoon classroom. He felt like he had just died. The noise sounded familiar yet alien to his ears.

Suddenly books were being rammed into bags, chairs were being slammed and scraped under desks and kids were pushing towards the door.

Sam turned away from the window to watch the madness. As suddenly as the siren had released the children all fell quiet.
Picking up his bag Sam followed the pack out into the wet yard.

He knew the hover-bus would be full today so he hunched his shoulders against the stinging rain and trudged towards home.

The streets he walked through were abandoned. Everyone was inside hiding from the acid rain, which had been coming for years now, ever since the walls had been built. Sam hated the walls: Walls, which had been created by several different governments as a way of getting rid of their countries’ pollution. They dumped everything they didn’t want outside the wall and didn’t care who or what they were dumping it on.
Sam stopped at a window, which had a poster saying,

 “Move to Paradisos for the paltry sum of six milla-bucks”. The gorgeous blonde smiling at him from the poster looked real, but her synthetic eyes just missed being warm.  No adult on Poisanos looked that good anymore. Bad diet, bad air and rain-damped depression had withered and worn them down like the pavements outside their mouldering apartments.
Disgusted, Sam turned away, stamping his foot into a puddle and trudged on towards his apartment. It wasn’t really his apartment in district five. He just crashed there with a bunch of scary, odd men and a hiybered cat because there was nowhere else for him to go since his mother and father had been caught in a freak storm not long after the walls had gone up and they had never recovered from their burns.

Inside the apartment it smelled like beer, old men and some horrible hint of partially dried blood.  And the numbers “333 Jorge walks with us” panted on the wall in blood. The food machine was broken again. He had no credits to feed into it anyway. At the end of the hall was another machine that some times worked if you yelled loudly and kicked hard enough. Today he was lucky.

His kicking had moved the machine away from the wall and Sam could see the edge of a door behind it. Shoving the K-so bar into his mouth Sam pushed the machine further out from the wall and opened the door. There was no light in the tiny room in front of him, but the smell was not familiar to him. Sam had moved beyond caring too much about his own safety so he felt his way into the room. Under his feet Sam felt the crunch of broken glass. The dim light coming in from behind Sam showed the outline of an open door on the other side of the tiny cubicle. And a broken plasma screen showing static. 

It took only milla seconds for him to move into the room beyond. To the left of him was a green glowing door and to the right a red one with cables going in and out.
“What a weird place,” breathed Sam.
The red door seemed to be pulsing. Sensing some kind of pull, Sam wove his way through the wriggling snakes of red and blue cables. As he walked the cables seemed to move.

When he brushed his hand along the wall a light flicked on overhead. In front of him were wall-to-wall computers and a large, mechanical, cable-covered beating human heart.

Sam’s own heart stopped for the briefest second and then beat twice as fast. His mouth went dry and he had to fight an impulse to vomit. Backing out of the room Sam slammed the door behind him. He wanted to get away as fast as he could. The wires and cables sensed his terror. They moved like waves then coiled around his legs and Sam fell to the ground with a thud.
“Don’t go that way!” the cables tightened around his legs and body.
“Who are you?” he yelled as cables covered him from head to toe.
”Let go of me,” he yelled.
”You’re a fool.” A voice from the darkness whispered, “Stay still if you want to live.” 

A sound came from the main room.
“The new heart should be here by Monday.” It was a woman’s voice.
“The new blood has been completed so we can give it to him right away. It’s going to take one month to pump so we’ll have to wait until the new transplant harvest in about 3 months.” The woman walked towards the glowing door.

“We can’t wait three months. Our little donor has a date with a knife on Monday. We have a nice rich receiver in Paradisos and I want that heart at its best.” They stopped outside the hiding place given to Sam by the cable monster.

”But sir, the new blood will make much the heart much better and he has a name,” Silva protested.
“Silva you think like a Poisanan,” he grumbled
“Always saying we can help the weak, always one step ahead trying to make life better for all.  Now think like a Paradisian!”
“Sorry Sir I think this place is getting to me.” Silva said. He nodded,
“NOW GO!” he yelled
Silva rain off. The cables flicked around the man’s feet in a mad rage but Sam was held so tight he could not move or scream.  The man looked not at the wires, but at a door to the right of him. 
“What’s with you Thing?” he bit on his cigar.
“I’m not a thing. I have a name. Silva gave it to me.”
”Well here’s news for you. I’m not Silvia and she won’t be back for a long time Thing.”
The cables began to move like rapids and almost whipped the man.
“I would stop that if I was you. You don’t want to end up like all the others in that room, lying dead on a cold steel tables, being sold piece by piece on eBay.” He grinned looking into the room. The wires stopped and lay quite still. “Good job Thing.” He kicked the cables hard and a faint whining followed him to the green door. 

Sam lay still until he was sure the man had left the room, and then he leaped to his feet, struggling away from the cables. He was shaking so much he could hardly stand, but he knew he had to get away from the cable room. He had to tell someone.
When the walls had gone up,  not only did the dumping start, but also so  the disappearances. The people of Poisanos had always thought of the disappeared as the lucky ones who had managed to escape to Paradisos, but now Sam knew where they had really gone.

 In this place, part on an insane butcher shop with hospital and lab properties he had to get out freeing him self from the cables. The exit was only a few feet way from him but also there was that thing in  the dark, with cables like tentacles, did it save him just to eat him,  what was it and what were the others used for?

 He waded though the now dead cable filled corridor Sam’s foot hit a red switch like in most stories. As you can guess, there’s a big hammer, a really big boulder. The cables could become deadly and a lot of nasty things could happen,  but nothing happened at all. It just rained picnic food out side, Sam came to the door, it was dark inside and it looked like it was asleep, then it moved its eyes looking at Sam with big lifeless yellow eyes. They were creepy
 “Get out” it shouted, its teeth were yellow and bloody
 “Who are you and what are you, and what is this place , and when has a lab existed behind a vending machine  with no one finding out” the eyes looked at him, its tail in rhythm with Sam’s breathing .

“Is it really time to talk and do you think I know it” it said shuddering.  It opened its mouth,  it was blue inside. Cables ran down to his throat.
“Any times good to talk”
“They’re back”
“Who’s back?” Then before  it could answer. He was thrown out into the corridor when the vending machine moved over the door,  Sam’s head hit the back of the wall.

Some of paint fell off the wall, falling on his head.
”What was that” then there were hooves an eerie clip clop towards him and clink, chink in rhythm and a scraping sound on the tiles. Were the people behind the vending machine affeer him? Each footfall placed an ice-cold chill in his spine. As it came into vision he was tall with a strong build and covered in armour. It was gleaming silver, dragging a sword and had goats legs, thin pointy tail, and a helmet.  With  teeth and slits for eyes and a horn gaping from the back of the head. Sam ran for it. Down the hall it ran after him  sparks flew  off  the weapon . he was  panting as he found the

 Fire escape  with its  concrete steps and rusting guardrail .  He was at the head of the stairs and his foot slipped, and he fell. A cold iron hand grabbed the scruff of his neck and began pulling him back 

“ I don’t know anything, I didn’t see anything! ”, he yelled then he fell over, the helmet falling off clanking and skidding away the armour falling with a clunk.

Soft blue eyes, long angelic hair , an angel like face looking down . It looked like he had been crying Sam looked relived
 “Its only you your creepy like that”
“They said that too.  I got fired from my work place , we were  doing a deal with a medieval theme park. We had to dress up and I was fired”, he hugged  Sam and cried on Sam’s shoulder,  Sam  struggled away  from him .
“Sniff,  I just want to be an accountant,  sniff” .
“There, there,  Palls accounting company is dead end job anyway
He got up and placed the helmet back on .
“Sniff , your right Sam,  come on I’ll let you in”.  His pointy tail swished as he walked down the hall, Sam at his feet. Gabriel had once been human 

But on his birth day the Pope  said  had said “He was the reincarnation of Bob”.  A few days’ latter insane genetic scientists took him. 20 years later he’s a goat man with a dream to be an accountant. The door with the new pad they found dump diving was broken. Gabriel looked at Sam
“Robot man, open the dam door!!”  The door opened and a man appeared, not quite, but almost like a sex symbol of the early 21-century. Was at the door, his skin was a light shade of green, fading softly  away. He had the eyes of an young boy and white hair but changing to brown and walked liked he had grown too fast and talked like  he had problems working his voce

“Robot man says he will fix the door next week wh wh wh wha is that you ? Gabriel brushed him aside and sat down  in his chair and looked at the at the TV. It had some really old lunatic cartoons playing.
 “What happened Sam ?
 “Well Igor, he lost his job again” Sam said as Igor leaned on the counter from the other side,  G5.9 rubbed his leg it wasn’t a cat.

It looked like it was a badly mangled cat /cow combo. When the fields all died, they began to make small domestic farm animals a dog/ chicken and the cat/ cow , both were flops but G5.9 was part of the family.
“Its like that for clones I cant get a modelling job, so I work as a house keeper in the worst apartments ever and the only thing we have to drink is milk and we eat macaroni cheese ”
The helmet was thrown at the wall near nearby, but it missed the toaster
 “I’m not a clone I’m a messiah ”
“If you are, get them to stop writing the anti  Bob lives here, it’s all over the place, last week I found it in the bath room and on the ceiling  written in  scrunched up wet bog paper”. Gabriel looks  at the TV Paradisos “now a word from a King  Humpty. D. Dunny ”words scrolled across the screen,  then a large round man appeared with a face that knew too much. He was wearing a thick baggy suit and he looked like  he has hiding something and one arm looked bigger than the other. The skin tone was different. “Hello my people and Poisanos things “ Gabriel snorted “hypocrite”
“just this feleling I have about him , he seems evil”
”Humpy. D. Dunny is a saint    his not rrrely hee can be eeevil? Can he”
“Gabriel, Igor is right”
”you are right,  why is he on anyway?”

”Now boys and girls, I am here to talk about plans for the future and our earth,  not just our side the but also the other side as well” .His oddly coloured hand reached up to his chest  , then his face was blue, then he fell onto the camera
”ok…who wants a sandwich, it fell out of the sky,”
« Last Edit: March 27, 2007, 08:03:55 AM by laok »


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Reply #1 on: March 27, 2007, 01:08:52 PM
This story has some promise, but is in really rough shape.
The plot is severely disjointed, and the grammar and composition makes it very difficult to read.
I can see where you're pulling on common SF elements but I get the impression you may not have as clear concept of what the world should be as you'd like, so it's hard for me as a reader to either understand what you're hinting at or just accept it and move on.
Just yesterday JC and Palimpsest addressed a piece in a similar situation ("a simple game of cards") and offered this advice:

Hi, Nomine.

Right off the bat, let me recommend the critique group critters:  You'll get to review stories and put some of your own in the queue to be critiqued, and it should serve you well.

I read the story and found two issues off the bat:

The first is grammar.  Your tale needs some grammar control, my friend.  Frequent grammatical mistakes will get your tale tossed out 99% of the time.  Allow me to elaborate with an example:

If one puts out 3 of cups you will need 4 of any kind to beat him. Now if somebody sits with the high cards on their hand. Well the stakes can`t be much higher.

...should be re-written as:

Three cups are only beaten by four of a kind. If somebody sits with that hand, stakes are high.

Even so, that still isn't perfect.  This is why you must learn to think like a reader.  Can you tell me what is wrong with that second sentence?

The second issue is background detail.  For example, this is a multi-race world.  So is the protagonist male?  Female?  What race?  You can't rely on your readers assuming anything unless you allude to it.

Consider checking out the "Keep it Active" link ony my website-- you'll see the link in my signature.

Don't want to discourage you, my friend.  Issues aside, the tale held my interest and I still found it enjoyable.  You can learn everything else -- your talent, even at these early stages, is already obvious.
Right off the bat, let me recommend the critique group critters:

Or the online writers workshop -- -- which, in my opinion, provides better critiques.

How do you fight a bully that can un-make history?