 00:50:52 15 October 2003 |
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GrislySilence
Fanfic Reviewer
(Resident)
On forum: 10/06/2003
Messages: 168
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This is a Test!
This is a Test of the Emergency Story Submission Form.
I'm going to post up my story on this thread, and I would like you guys to read it, and give it a rating (1-10) and a comment (A reasonable comment) on why you rated it this way.
I'm doing this to test the discrepancy between my score now with the current rating system, and my score without bias, because no one can just put in 1 and forget about it.
Thank you. I hope, above all, that you enjoy the story.
Kill or be Killed
"There's something wrong with me!" The man's drooping features momentarily twisted. "I can feel it, digging inside me." His hands clenched almost convulsively around his stomach like claws. He looked up at the impassive face of the man across from him, perhaps looking for an answer, perhaps salvation. Who cared which?
The distorted remains of a human's speech barely conjured any sympathy or compassion in the stalker. Those were commodities hard to come by nowadays. Neither did he feel anger or hatred. Only disgust. But what did it matter, either way? The end would be the same.
He had felt obligated at first to listen to the man's story, hoping for a clue to the location of an artifact. But it was all just the same old speech about the reactor, the strange things that started appearing, the changes it made a person go through. Absolutely worthless. No useful information whatsoever.
It all boiled down to one thing: the pitiful thing in front of him was a goner. Either way, something would get him. A stalker or a mutant. And what was the point of letting him go? He'd just end up being a nuisance later on, or worse. Better just to get it over with now, before the change was completed. You could call it mercy, or murder. More likely it was survival. That was the ways things were.
His eyes constantly scanned the horizon, the ruined buildings all around, never stopping in one place for more than a moment before moving on to the next. He had to be vigilant to stay alive. And he was deep enough in the zone that even vigilance might not save him from what could be hunting him.
The man was still rambling on about something, strings of drool dripping from his limp lips. There was nothing more that could be learned from him. It was time to end it. He made a show of looking at the position of the sun.
"It'll be dark soon. You should probably head on back to your home. With all these things coming out in the day, you never know what might come out at night." He almost couldn't contain the sarcasm threatening to infect his tone. Worse things coming out at night? As far as he knew, these things knew neither night nor day, morning nor evening. Only the zone. That was a lesson many learned hard. They'd let their guard drop during the day, just a little, and they'd think the sound of a pack of blind dogs behind them was just the skittering of rats. Even the military stalkers did it to a degree. Around all their fancy technology and guns they'd feel safe. A decade ago they would've been. Now, a single controller could decimate an entire outpost, turn the men into zombies or something, sap out their will, steal their souls. He couldn't suppress a slight shudder. No amount of vigilance could prepare you for that. Hardened stalkers like him dreaded the day they might find a controller. Who knew what would happen to you if one of them kill you like that. What would happen to your soul? It was alien.
He sighed inwardly. Stalker? Hah. They didn't stalk anything. They hunted for artifacts. No they weren't stalkers. But there were things out there that would fit that description. They would fit it all too well.
A chill wind brought dust up around their feet, whistling strangely as it wound through the abandoned streets. And then it was gone. Somewhere in the city behind him, metal clanged as some new part of the city fell to decay. But then again, at that distance, who could tell if it was misuse or perhaps
If the Boss says the passing crow is white, you must agree. --Yakuza saying
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| 05:39:42 15 October 2003 |
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Amoki
back with a vengeance
(V.I.P.)
On forum: 07/31/2003
Messages: 1729
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Well, If I didn't forget, I gave you a five. Not that I want to drag you down, but 5, in my opinion, means average to good ( considering 6 is the highest total ine th L.C) Your story was decent, but then, you haven't showed the real meaning of killed or be killed.
This is from my perspective: Killed or be killed means a dillemma, a condition that requires you to make a decision to kill another man or let the other man kills you. But your story is more to 'Kill the man who could have been your enemy if he isn't killed." You must bear in mind: the killed character you described isn't a psycopathic murderer who had an insane mind, but a normal stalker who was pleading for help. STALKER isn't completely about killing other stalkers. It is about, more or less, surviving in The Zone. Not everyone is your enemy (well, save that for mutants), so people actually thank you if you help them.
Great, independant Iraq War journalism: http://michaelyon.blogspot.com/
From the halls of Montezuma To the shores of Tripoli'
We fight our countrys battles In the air', on land, and sea.
First to fight for right and freedom , And to keep our honor clean,
We are proud to claim the title Of United States Marines.
Our flags unfurl'd to every breeze From dawn to setting sun';
We have fought in every clime and place Where we could take a gun.
In the snow of far-off northern lands And in sunny tropic scenes,
You will find us always on the job - The United States Marines.
Here's health to you and to our Corps Which we are proud to serve;
In many a strife we've fought for life And never lost our nerve.
If the Army and the Navy Ever gaze on Heaven's scenes,
They will find the streets are guarded By United States Marines. - US Marines Hymn
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| 14:47:25 16 October 2003 |
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Goodspeed
(Senior)
On forum: 07/25/2003
Messages: 70
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Here are my comments, which are also posted on the site itself. I still stand by it, although I do have to admit that I've commented on it when I was kinda sick and bored of reading unimaginative blotches of text (present company excluded of course) over and over again. This was such a welcome sight for (literally) sour eyes, it's a wee bit less critical the normally.
---QUOTATION---
This is a good one! To be honest, this the first time I gave anyone an 8 rating. Your grammar & spelliing is good, your description is good, your plot (i don't care what others say) is also good. It's short, snappy and with a nice bizar twist right at the end. But if I could give some constructive criticism: some descriptive sentences, like the one about sarcasm in his voice, may be a bit too much overdone. I mean, that you have to read a complex and long description for something quite simple. Takes the tempo out of the story. Another thing is that it's unclear what's wrong with mr. dead meat. It leaves the reader with questions about the most popular issues (the bizarre & horrific dangers in the Zone). Furthermore I'm also very eager to read anything else that you're writing, especially if it's a longer piece. Keep it up!"
---END QUOTATION---
‘Right, this calls for a particularly subtle blend of psychology and extreme violence.’
- Vyvyan, The Young Ones
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