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  1. #1
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    Bane of midnight- short story (part 1)

    * my first attempt at writing 3rd person. this is a raw piece i wrote few years ago during my fetish for vampires. now it's fae. what do u think? I actually wanted to make a mini novel of it but didn't have any more ideas.


    ‘Oh ****. Why’s he always here?’ Eric cursed. He fervently cursed himself for opening the door to him last weekend. The stranger had been euphoric to see him. But he dared not come near the house and strayed outside the garden gates. So why did he turn up again?
    Tonight, the man began with, ‘We were friends once.’ His voice was musical and hypnotic like a singer’s. ‘Don’t you remember? I took you in after your house burned down.’
    Now he stepped forward into the parlor. The fluorescent illuminated his bright skin. He towered over the 16 year old, but there was no menace in his manner. His smile was cordial. Dark hair tinged with burgundy reached to his shoulders in a braid. He was built like a dancer rather than a wrestler so Eric reckoned that he could easily overpower him. Maybe he was one of the gypsies his aunt had warned him about.
    Eric tried the gentle approach first. ‘I think you’re mistaken, Sir. I don’t even know you. I really have to go.’ Then he tried to shut the door on him, but the door could not even budge. The stranger gripped the frame easily and had one foot in the doorway. Eric’s hands sweated. He tried again and again but to no avail.
    ‘My name is Quinn D’Arion,’ the Please don’t drive me away. Hear me out.’
    ‘No! I’m warning you, I’ll call the police! ’ Eric shouted, backing indoors. Quinn D’Arion’s pleading expression became mournful. But thankfully he stayed his distance just staring at this boy. He muttered to himself.
    What the hell? Is he a witch or a sorcerer? I must be careful! The teenager wildly searched his mind for an incantation against evil spirits. None came to mind in his panic. I thought supernatural things don’t exist. Guess I was wrong.
    His head felt lightheaded. He tried to resist with his spirit but lapsed into- Eric was crawling on the floor. Not this house with his uncle and aunt, that one was decorated with sculptures from Ancient France or Italy. And someone watching from a little corner. Love and comfort. Eric laughed, toddling towards the TV set. A youth lifted him up and hugged him. Impossible, I’ve stayed here with Uncle Timothy and Aunt Mabel. For always. The boy’s knees gave. The magical barrier in his house had been disarmed! He shut his eyes praying for Hecate to be merciful. Let his death be swift and painless. Was he going to suck his blood or his soul essence?
    Quinn looked down at the human cowering at his feet. No I terrified the poor child. He thinks I’m going to do those horrible things. The wrenching pain in his cold heart throbbed. They had totally erased Eric’s memory of that time. The murderers!
    ‘Don’t fear me. I mean no harm. ’
    At the touch, Eric felt the iciness of his fingers. His eyes was purple and gold, like the evil kind of witches Uncle Tim warned him about. He could be a male witch. They charm people into joining them. Except a few cuts on his cheek, Quinn looked no older than 25. A large crucifix hanging from his neck on a thick chain.
    ‘Don’t touch me!’
    ‘What tales have they spun in your head, my child? If I had wanted to kill you why would I speak to you?’ he snapped, suddenly angered. Fixated violet orbs, the smile was suddenly bestial.
    Eric fumbled for his bottle of Holy water. Yes, it was in his bag hanging nearby. Screwed it open and sprinkled it onto the Thing.
    He didn’t burn up. Quinn shook out the wetness from his hair. His clothes dried within seconds.
    ‘Be gone ye devil!’ Eric cried, flipping open the Bible. Thank goodness he had bookmarked the pages. He read out some phrases. Quinn held him by the shoulders. The boy kept reading as if he could banish him to another realm.
    Abruptly Quinn released him. Why? Aunt Mabel had appeared behind Eric. She was grayhaired, but still robust. The guy snarled and sprang back. His chest was torn open with red marks. A warding off flash that could only mean Mabel had acted. Eric sought refuge behind her.
    ‘Don’t open the door to him. He’s a night child!’ Then she incanted a verse in language unknown to the teenager. Strong winds billowed around them, then smoke exploded. A scream ripped the air. Eric felt pity for him- he had not tried to kill him.
    ‘But he said he knew me… did I ever have a brother?’ Eric gasped, finding it hard to close the door. She slammed it for him.
    Mabel’s face hardened. ‘Utter nonsense! You were an only son, your Fa and Ma died in a fire! We brought you up. A Nightchild is Bloodhunter, he sucks our blood. An indiscriminate murderer! There’s nothing to doubt…. ’ She gabbled on about what the family sacrificed for his high school education. Eric rolled his eyes. Had that lecture since twelve.
    Late night. He dreamt once more that he was in a large beautifully decorated house. He saw it in first-person. Statues of artists and paintings of Renaissance tucked into pillars or standing. A blurred figure was saying something. Eric hugged a small carebear. He toddled to the top of the stairs and almost stumbled. Someone steadied him. Familiar violet eyes and white skin.
    The person outside! The same person! Eric tried to speak but the dream was continuing to unfold.
    Careful. Don’t run about like that, Quinn said. Wait.
    He carried him into a yellow room. A computer on a desk facing the door and some cot with a windchime. Quinn returned with a milk bottle for him. He read to him, in Latin.
    One day, the man needed to go out. ‘I’ll get something nice for you to watch. Goodnight. Don’t open the door to strangers.’ The toddler gurgled. Quinn patted his head and shut the door.



  2. #2
    Senior Member John Oberon's Avatar
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    This is very difficult to follow. The POV jumps all over the place with virtually no transition. Half sentences express half thoughts. Very stilted and halting.

    Several errors in logic. The man steps into the parlor, THEN Eric tries to shut the door on him? He wonders if the guy is a witch or sorcerer and tries to think of incantations against evil spirits that he obviously must have learned previously, yet he thought supernatural things don't exist?

    Odd phrasing throughout...head felt lightheaded, screwed it open, smoke exploded, saw it in first-person.

    Needs a load of editing.

  3. #3
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    hi

    HI John,
    Thank you for the pointers. Oh let me explain, in my plan, Eric was adopted by this vampire but his memory has been wiped out. Now he lives with relatives who hate and hunt vampires so he resists him. I wanted to portray his denial in the 'supernatural beings don't exist' part. When people are in shock they keep denying.

    Yes I am not skilful with 3rd person pov. How would you suggest I improve?

  4. #4
    Senior Member John Oberon's Avatar
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    Sorry for the delay, didn't see that you responded.

    1. Next time you post, insert a space between paragraphs - makes it easier to read.

    2. Switch to straight third person omniscient. You're the narrator and you describe all the action and all the thoughts in Eric's head. No thoughts appearing out of nowhere; they all begin with something like "Eric thought..." or "He considered...".

    3. Use complete sentences, not fragments.

    Do those three things, and then we'll have another taste.

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