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    dots Submission Name: Bendots

    Author: Scrumpy
    ASL Info:    28 / M / Attleboro
    Elite Ratio:    6.37 - 25/27/13
    Words: 766
    Class/Type: Story/
    Total Views: 943
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3977

       Okay, this is mock up of a story for a series im doing. I intend to edit this heavly and would appreciate CC (constructive criticism) or just some thoughts. okay thanks, fire away.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.



    Ben closed his eyes and held his breath as he felt the warm blade of the “blank” press against the folds around his Adams apple. He didn’t feel it really, just the sputtering of blood and his lungs letting themselves out through the new hole in his neck. All he could think about was how he had expected to be stabbed in the back. He didn’t think these sons of bitches had it in them to cut an old mans throat. The only thing he felt in his back was a foot kicking him back to the ground. As his face flew towards the asphalt, Ben braced for what he knew was going to happen. His face hit the icy ground chin first. As his jaw shattered he felt his dentures slip out of his mouth. Damn things never stay put he thought. Ben opened his eyes to only to see his precious old blood pooling into a steaming puddle around his face. It was over. Ben knew he would never get up, Ben knew he was dead. Getting old is a bitch he thought.

    He heard their laughs, taunts, and boasts. Congratulations, you just killed an old geezer Ben thought. As their noise faded, Ben began to choke, as breathing is a little more difficult with a bloody hole in your neck. They were done with him. As he watched his blood form small red rivers through the snow, the world slowly began to spin. So much for Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Casings he thought, at least I tried. The thought snapped him back from the spinning daze he was in. From his skewed angle he could see they were starting in on her now. Circling around her like a couple of jackals before they moved in. Her screams and cries intermittent through the slaps and kicks. “Please!” she begged, “please!” It’s all Ben could hear, “please!” She’s not talking to them, she’s talking to me he thought, and I let her down. Indeed she was pleading to the men raping her, but Ben needed to believe otherwise. It’s up to you Ben, its still up to you. With all the strength he had, still face down in the ice, Ben dug his hand into his right pocket. If he could have he would have smiled. The steel and wood felt good against his fingers, recharging him. The sounds of her clothes being torn off, the fumbling of belt buckles and zippers drove him further. She wasn’t putting up much of a fight really, but who can blame her after seeing what they did to an old man. Animals. No more pain now. Not for me and not for you Miss. Ben dragged his old .38 from his pocket. He couldn’t lift it, so he slid his colt across the snow and ice into position. It’s all up to you Ben he thought. It’s all up to you. Ben thumbed back the hammer and took aim. She had stopped crying, she saw. The shot rang out like a fire cracker. Ben was old, but he was a hell of a shot. The bullet connected with the back of his targets head, toppling its victim over like a deck of cards. After all, it’s pretty hard to stand without a brain. Still in shock, the other was standing with his pants around his knees trying to grasp what was happening. Perhaps the sight of an old man beaten, bleeding out his neck with false teeth hanging out of mouth all the while pointing a gun at him was a little hard to swallow.

    “I’m sorry man! I’m sorry please!” he said, one hand holding up his pants, the other in the air surrendered to Ben.

    Ben thumbed back the hammer again. It was over now.

    It took Ben a moment to realize she had been screaming the whole time. He saw her sitting in the snow, hugging her knees to her chest screaming at him. Ben had done it. Good work he thought, she’s safe now. Suddenly she was up and running. Out of the lot and down the street screaming “help!” As he lay in the snow, Ben heard soft jazz coming from his car radio and the low hum of his cars exhaust. Feeling no pain at all now, he let it go. Not a bad way to die he thought, not to bad at all. He let go of his .38, and bent his elbow bringing his hand to his brow, offering the world his final salute.

    Submitted on 2005-11-18 17:13:47     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      A day late (and a dollar short, but don't tell the landlord), but I came back to give this a closer look. Again, I have to say: good descriptions of action. That really seems to be your strength here (of course, there isn't much else to the story yet, so that makes perfect sense). Lemme see, as far as the technical writing goes, the only thing that I see that could help is in lines like this:
    "Getting old is a [censored] he thought."
    Lines where characters are thinking- not speaking don't require quotation marks (btw, the marks above are me quoting you the ones below are a suggestion), but they might help here anyway, as in:
    "Getting old is a [censored]," he thought.
    Failing that, you should probably at least use the comma, as in:
    Getting old is a [censored], he thought.
    Other than that, I think anything else I've spotted is simply a typo, and you'll fix them when you turn this into a full-fledged story.

    The only other thing I can think of is that there are a few lines that seem like inconsistencies in an otherwise strong style. For instance, " ...as breathing is a little more difficult with a bloody hole in your neck." Or "Perhaps the sight of an old man beaten, bleeding out his neck with false teeth hanging out of mouth all the while pointing a gun at him was a little hard to swallow."
    These aren't bad lines, but they have a kind of humorous sarcasm that doesn't jell with the gravity you've put into the rest of the piece. I'd say make them a little more gritty somehow, remove the amused feel. Of course, that's entirely a question of style, and it depends on how dark you want the story to be.

    I'd like to know the story behind the girl. Why does he feel so indebted to protect her? I think a good idea might be his daughter, whom he never spent much time with. This would give him a precedent for feeling like he's failed her. I imagine you already have an idea there, though. If you want some feedback on story elements, send me a message with some ideas you're toying with. Maybe I can give you something useful? Whatever the case, you have a good start here. I'll keep an eye on your page, but I might miss it when you're finished so be sure to contact me.

    Keep up the good work,
    | Posted on 2005-11-23 00:00:00 | by DevilDinosaur | [ Reply to This ]
      Bueno excellente, my good man. A well-written, descriptive scene with plenty of violence. I have to crash now, but I'll be back tomorrow to give it a good going over and try to offer some of that constructive criticism you're looking for. Also, send me a note if you're on before I am again and tell me what you mean by mock up. I know I've heard the term before, but I'm drawing a blank just now.

    | Posted on 2005-11-20 00:00:00 | by DevilDinosaur | [ Reply to This ]
      Not, bad at all, not bad at all. I liked the subject. I think that you should seriously think about publishing! Over-all, this is a great write and I think you should keep it up.
    | Posted on 2005-11-18 00:00:00 | by Toxic_Rayne | [ Reply to This ]
      Nice piece! It has a lot of good hooks and take the reader on a dizzying trip. I love the general fearlessness that you write with that's beging to be hard to find in new writers. I look forward to reading more of your stuff. ^_^
    | Posted on 2005-11-18 00:00:00 | by RumnMoxie | [ Reply to This ]

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