Thicker Than Blood (short Story)

[Crimsonskies455]

Just something I thought of off the top of my head! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Inside a small and dark room, a man inhaled deeply on a cigarette and looked with deep regret out the window. The once sprawling city of Chicago was lifeless and barren. Cars that were proud symbols of what humanity used to be were reduced to nothing, but rusty scrap metal and were only good for tetanus. The large skyscrapers that stood tall and beautiful were scraped clean by scavengers, making them look like husks of their former selves.

Nature was taking over and trees sprouted up out of the roadways and sidewalks. Large vines made their way down many of the buildings and animals were a common sight. Looking to his left, the man's eyes fell upon a eyesore. A large gate made of scrap metal was at the left end of Chicago and a wall made of everything a person could think of jetted out from it and back into the city. The wall separated their District from the three others that littered the large city. The man's District was number three.

The Red Light District.

He gave a sigh and glanced at his environment. It was nothing special. The building he was in used to be a hotel where tourists would stay since it was close to the inner parts of Chicago. It was overtaken by survivors of the plague and the hotel owner was killed in the fights for control over space. In the corner of the room, a bed with the covers folded neatly sat empty. Towards the worn brown door, a desk with a chair waited patiently. A journal laid peacefully on the desk, its covers open for the world to see and a pen sat between the open pages. The ink on the pages of the journal were fresh. On the opposite end of the desk were cabinets and a counter top with a sink. The counter top once had a microwave on top, but it was taken by the District leaders to be changed into scrap metal to build the wall.

The male walked over to the window, opened it, and threw the cigarette out.

After disposing of his cigarette, the man walked over to the bottle of Crown Royal that laid on the desk and pulled out a shot glass from a cabinet nearby. The shot glass saw a lot of use and the glass showed its age. He poured himself a glass and tilted it back into his mouth. He winced as the alcohol gave him a nasty kick as he swallowed it. He gave a sarcastic "ahh" and walked over to his AK 47 that leaned against the desk.

It was his most prize possession. A robber exchanged it for his life when the man found him in his room. It was broken, but he bought the supplies he needed to fix it at the markets by trading some deer meat. Picking up the AK, he pulled out a rag from his pocket and started to polish the metal. He pulled the magazine out to see it was still fully loaded and gave a chuckle. He was always out of bullets. He would always go out to guard the wall and forget to restock.

Before he could take the weapon apart to polish the inside, he heard a knock on the door. He jumped and walked over to the peephole to see who it was. Outside, a women that was his age stood outside. She had the same hair color as him. It was black and put in a pony tail. Her eyes were blue and her pose was stern. She started to knock louder.

"Open up, Robert! She shouted loudly.

"Shut up. Your going to wake up the whole hall!"

"I won't until you open the door!"

Opening the door, Robert was immediately hugged which surprised him.

"I thought you were dead! I thought the infected dragged you away." The women said as tears started to fill up in her eyes.

Robert huffed and said, "You know I always skip that stupid council the District leaders always have. All that they do is take attendance. Its basically grade school all over again." Robert said gruffly before pouring himself another shot.

"Ya, to figure out if your dead or not! You always skip and it worries me. I always worry about you and its weekly so every week you give me a god damn mini heart attack!" The women said as she grabbed the shot glass, opened the window and threw the liquid out.

Robert gave her a glare before stating,

"You're my sister. If I die, you would know it."

"I don't think it works like that." She replied and sat down on the seat.

"Lisa, I know you worry about me, but I can take care of myself."

"I know. It's just..."

A gunshot rang out in the hallway making the pair freeze in their tracks. They sat in silence for what sounded like hours, neither of them making a sound. A man ran up to their door and started to shout frantically,

"Infected in the hotel! The wall has been breached! Be prepared too-"

The man's voice was cut off by moans. Raspy, horrible, and lifeless moans.

[Duckzombie]

Pretty good story. It needs to be longgggggger, though. Not to be a grammar nazi, but it has an error where he says she will wake up the whole hall. It should be "you're" instead of "your"

[Crimsonskies455]

At 9/10/13 09:59 PM, SychoSloth wrote: Pretty good story. It needs to be longgggggger, though. Not to be a grammar nazi, but it has an error where he says she will wake up the whole hall. It should be "you're" instead of "your"

Damn it lol. I always miss the easy mistakes. Glad you liked it!

[DeftAndEvil]

At 9/7/13 10:06 PM, Crimsonskies455 wrote:
Inside a small and dark room, a man inhaled deeply on a cigarette and looked with deep regret out the window.

Too cliched and uninteresting (needs better hook). Also you use the word "deep" twice, drawing attention to it for no reason, and it seems repetitive.

The once sprawling city of Chicago was lifeless and barren. Cars that were proud symbols of what humanity used to be were reduced to nothing, but rusty scrap metal and were only good for tetanus.

The comma is unneccesary, not only changing the meaning of the sentence, but creating an unneccesary break. It seems to already be a victim of the oversaturation of post-apocalyptic fiction, this doesn't seem to be going anywhere interesting. Same thing: the mild cynicism is uninteresting.

The large skyscrapers that stood tall and beautiful were scraped clean by scavengers, making them look like husks of their former selves.

The prep. phrase "of...selves" is not only unnecessary, but a husk is different from a remain, since healthy/living corn still has a husk.

Nature was taking over and trees sprouted up out of the roadways and sidewalks. Large vines made their way down many of the buildings and animals were a common sight. Looking to his left, the man's eyes fell upon a eyesore. A large gate made of scrap metal was at the left end of Chicago and a wall made of everything a person could think of jetted out from it and back into the city. The wall separated their District from the three others that littered the large city. The man's District was number three.

This paragraph contains too much information; actually, it is just too jumbled up and kind of repetitive.

The Red Light District.

Um....

He gave a sigh and

"Sighed." If you could go over the entire story and refine it, you can straighten out sentences to make them "flow" better.

glanced at his environment. It was nothing special. The building he was in used to be a hotel where tourists would stay since it was close to the inner parts of Chicago. It was overtaken by survivors of the plague and the hotel owner was killed in the fights for control over space. In the corner of the room, a bed with the covers folded neatly sat empty. Towards the worn brown door, a desk with a chair waited patiently. A journal laid peacefully on the desk, its covers open for the world to see and a pen sat between the open pages. The ink on the pages of the journal were fresh. On the opposite end of the desk were cabinets and a counter top with a sink. The counter top once had a microwave on top, but it was taken by the District leaders to be changed into scrap metal to build the wall.

Some more of the same.

The male walked over to the window, opened it, and threw the cigarette out.

After disposing of his cigarette, the man walked over to the bottle of Crown Royal that laid on the desk and pulled out a shot glass from a cabinet nearby. The shot glass saw a lot of use and the glass showed its age. He poured himself a glass and tilted it back into his mouth. He winced as the alcohol gave him a nasty kick as he swallowed it. He gave a sarcastic "ahh" and walked over to his AK 47 that leaned against the desk.

...again.

It was his most prize possession. A robber exchanged it for his life when the man found him in his room. It was broken, but he bought the supplies he needed to fix it at the markets by trading some deer meat. Picking up the AK, he pulled out a rag from his pocket and started to polish the metal. He pulled the magazine out to see it was still fully loaded and gave a chuckle. He was always out of bullets. He would always go out to guard the wall and forget to restock.

Well, the story is finally improving, but it still seems to be a typical post apocalyptic/zombie story.

Before he could take the weapon apart to polish the inside, he heard a knock on the door. He jumped and walked over to the peephole to see who it was. Outside, a women that was his age stood outside. She had the same hair color as him. It was black and put in a pony tail. Her eyes were blue and her pose was stern. She started to knock louder.

Hm. Something I noticed is that the sentences lack variety. "He did this. She did that." Know what I mean? I'd get into the finer points of grammatical style, but the truth is I need to touch up on it myself.

"Open up, Robert! She shouted loudly.

"Shut up. Your going to wake up the whole hall!"

"I won't until you open the door!"

Opening the door, Robert was immediately hugged which surprised him.\

Too much telling. Everything seems so simple and ... bald.

"I thought you were dead! I thought the infected dragged you away." The women said as tears started to fill up in her eyes.

Robert huffed and said, "You know I always skip that stupid council the District leaders always have. All that they do is take attendance. Its basically grade school all over again." Robert said gruffly before pouring himself another shot.

"Ya, to figure out if your dead or not! You always skip and it worries me. I always worry about you and its weekly so every week you give me a god damn mini heart attack!" The women said as she grabbed the shot glass, opened the window and threw the liquid out.

Same....

Robert gave her a glare before stating,

"You're my sister. If I die, you would know it."

"I don't think it works like that." She replied and sat down on the seat.

"Lisa, I know you worry about me, but I can take care of myself."

"I know. It's just..."

A gunshot rang out in the hallway making the pair freeze in their tracks. They sat in silence for what sounded like hours, neither of them making a sound. A man ran up to their door and started to shout frantically,

You can't freeze in your tracks if you weren't moving in the first place.

"Infected in the hotel! The wall has been breached! Be prepared too-"

The man's voice was cut off by moans. Raspy, horrible, and lifeless moans.

I get it that they are zombies, but "lifeless moans" doesn't fit in with "Raspy" and "horrible."

Well, man. Can't really say too much other than it is too derivative of post-apocalyptic/zombie narratives. Also, the composition itself seems too boring and lifeless (not being cheeky, I was thinking this the entire time). There's no hook or pathos, or whatever. Also, there are a bunch of little mistakes in grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc. Sorry that I can't help you better but that's the truth.

[Crimsonskies455]

I agree with you about the spelling mistakes and the "cliche" plot of a zombie apocalypse, but I really wasn't going for anything else plot wise. It was an opening. I am still thinking of ideas. I totally agree with you with the "He said, she said" grammatical repetition. It can get annoying and I am working on it. The "hook" at the beginning was not supposed to be exciting. It was almost like a stage opening in a theater. It also leaves the reader with a lot of questions. However, I do agree with the fact that it could have been expanded upon. I don't understand what you mean by "Too much telling." Isn't that the point of a story? I also don't understand what you mean by the paragraphs being jumbled.

[ArkhamMA]

At 9/12/13 11:06 PM, Crimsonskies455 wrote: I agree with you about the spelling mistakes and the "cliche" plot of a zombie apocalypse, but I really wasn't going for anything else plot wise. It was an opening. I am still thinking of ideas. I totally agree with you with the "He said, she said" grammatical repetition. It can get annoying and I am working on it. The "hook" at the beginning was not supposed to be exciting. It was almost like a stage opening in a theater. It also leaves the reader with a lot of questions. However, I do agree with the fact that it could have been expanded upon. I don't understand what you mean by "Too much telling." Isn't that the point of a story? I also don't understand what you mean by the paragraphs being jumbled.

The problem with the hook is that it doesn't make the reader want to continue. I mean, unless the reader is a fan of your work or writing a review, you have to give them a reason to stick around for the rest of the "play." The one you have now doesn't work for that purpose (or your purpose of creating questions.) Instead, it works against you, because the sentence is full of cliches and demonstrates a lack of ability to show and not tell (which he meant by the "too much telling"). Both of those problems, by the way, continue through out the rest of the story.

(If you've really never heard of 'showing, not telling' the entire idea is that you don't just tell the reader what they need to know: you let them figure it on their own. Like instead of saying that Alice is unhappy in her life, you describe the calendar on her cubicle with the pictures of far-away places, the well practiced conversation she has with her husband, the- yeah, you've probably figured out by now that I'm a worse writer than you, you better just google this and trust me that you're not doing it right. Basically, the better you do it, the more interesting the writing is, and the easier it is for the reader to feel like a part of your story.)

Also, if you don't want reviews (or even if you do), you might not want to publish first drafts. Of anything. I mean, no one writes them as well as another draft could be. Especially if they're unplanned stories. Or written by authors who are promising, but inexperienced enough to not understand the problem with raw exposition or getting defensive when someone takes the time to give them a very good critique.

Anyway, yeah, this could turn out to be very good. The "only good for tetanus" bit was my favorite part.

[ArkhamMA]

Oh, sorry, forgot about the no "google it" rule. Here's a post about show, not tell by Grammar Girl.

[Crimsonskies455]

At 9/14/13 10:37 PM, ArkhamMA wrote: Oh, sorry, forgot about the no "google it" rule. Here's a post about show, not tell by Grammar Girl.

Thank you so much for clarifying that! I felt like the previous guy left me with more questions than answers! I will definitely look into it! Thank you also for your critique!

[DeftAndEvil]

At 9/14/13 10:30 PM, ArkhamMA wrote:

At 9/12/13 11:06 PM, Crimsonskies455 wrote: Stuff

Some sensible stuff

I think I love you.