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![]() | Elevation ![]() The lives of people are changed forever when they realize there's more to this world. ![]() |
Author: BloodToTheQuill ![]() ![]() Reviewer: Cobe ![]() ![]() I found this on "read a newbie" and am reviewing it as part of the Sen. Mod Birthday Challenge. Remember I'm just a writer like you, so keep what you can use and ignore the rest. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() A void ripped through the living room. There was a man who appeared to be in full uniform five feet from me. Judging by his stripes, he had served most of his life, but somehow his body seemed unanimated, like it wasn’t there with me. My eyes watered, focusing in and out on the entity I was faced with. A soft blue light shined behind it, the evening moon creating a glowing dusty image out of the dark figure. Whispers filled the room. I like this opening. It pulls the reader in and makes them want to know what is going on. You've done a beautiful job of "showing" us what is happening ... except for the highlighted section. Maybe try something like - "A man appeared five feet from me. His uniform adorned with the stripes and medals of many years of service. But his body hung motionless, as if projected there beside me from some distant place." “Can you hear me?” Wind flushed through my veins. The window shutters began to clamor. An essence grew strong. The room darkened.The voice was heard again I heard the voice again - otherwise the reader asks "who heard the voice again?", as if I was inside it’s head nice.I felt pain. I felt confusion. Can you show us this? Maybe - "Pain seared through me. I didn't understand." My heart stopped. The room blazed then burnt to a sulfur. I felt death.?? What does that feel like? ~-~ He felt the ground for the last time. His face and hands contained as much rock as the mountainside, the rest of his body scattered with shrapnel thrown from the grenade of an enemy I don't think you need this phrase since shrapnel is usually from a bomb or grenade blast.. A freshly shot enemy. Yelling encased his ears, covered in a blood paste. The soundwaves crept through his eardrums. Fire after fire. Warcry after warcry. The soldier looked up at the sky, paralyzed, his back impressing the ground as a space rock would. Through his hazy vision, he saw something fly across his field of sight. It was an enemy bomber, on a course to destroy this settlement. Light blinded him. try not to repeat words so close together A light went on around him. Placed in a room, surely, but there was no evident matter viewable.lt was a room made out of nothing. A hallway appeared with walls separating it from the other nothingness. Winston lay down upon the ground. The soldier was still cold, yet he couldn’t feel around him or anything such as one feels when they inhabit their body. All the movement occurring was by his doing and his doing alone. ?? I'm not even sure what this means. Nothing else was truly moving, but rather generating, his mind interpreting things. Winston got up, just as he did his final morning, without pain. Surprisingly, there were no more holes in his body than the amount he was born with. His skin was all one, no scratch whatsoever to be found. The infinite space around Winston suddenly closed to square area in, with walls reaching to the non apparent heavens(.) and it A door connected with the hollow hallway. The soldier did what he was known best for. He marched forward into the unknown. It seemed days had been He spent days in this hallway, having an occasional turn inside the straightforward endeavor what???. It was as if the surrounding nothingness responded to his hope and despair. When he wished tongue continue hoping he would find an exit, it would display a wall in the near distance. A target to walk to when nothing else could be seen. The wall brought him to the conclusion of this conclusion, only to allow him to find at the end of the hall’s beginning, was simply a beginning to a nonexistent end. "Last call for courtroom one, last call for courtroom one, thank you," A stale yet youthful voice blared through the hallway. Further on, appearing to Winston's left was a standard mahogany door with a brass knob. Above it there was a gold plaque which read: ATTORNEY'S OFFICE smile The letter seemed to burn against the gold, as if those who passed by it were watching a smelting process. One that continued over and over again. Winston, seeing an option where he knew no others, he opened the door. He was blinded by the light of the room. Nothing visible but white everything, containing no shape. "Greetings, Mr. Valapit," it was the same voice he had heard through the walls earlier, but it's sound resonated differently, more feminine, and somehow, more beautiful, more pleasing. "Welcome to the Defense Experimental Attorneys for The Hellbound. I will be your attorney in the court of the sinful." (paragraph) A shock built up inside Winston, a familiar one. All he saw was unimaginable in terms of all existing creation. "What exactly is this room?" He questioned the unembodied voice. A silence was thick in the air, slowing time itself, but not straying from the harshness of sound. Winston was aware of everything. An abrupt movement in space occurred. The walls felt like they were separating, as branches do from the base of the tree, and the floor turned into a crevice, as a white ooze emerged from the floor it, repairing itself. The hallway stopped existing. "It is what you believe it to be. Under reason that is. We can't have all our people making things willy nilly now, can we?" Her voice changed. It wasn't a woman's anymore, but a nondescript man's. A dark toned man's. "That could provide a hazardous environment...." "Where am I?" His head was still spinning, yet he felt nothing. It was almost as if he were operating his body from another location. “You are here.” The voice was calmer now. (paragraph) The room turned an unrealistic shade of blue. There was an intense glow to it. It soothed him. The color made him feel safe. There was no reason to feel endangered right? His mind turned over, all his will became harder and harder to reach. His skull buzzed, overshadowed with the thoughts of calmness. Two words echoed continuously in Winston’s subconscious. It was in the shape of his mother, taken by Leukemia two years after joining he joined the service, the reason he was now a 1st sergeant. The voiced kept repeating, in that same soothing voice he remembered, trancelike, “You’re safe…” You’re safe… ![]() ![]() I hope this is useful. Happy Writing! Cobe ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
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