Yet another

[enzo100]

Well here I am on my new laptop and its time for me to start writing again. I dropped the HL2 story as it really couldn't keep my interest. So I have started a new story entitled "Encrypted Venom" it isn't as long as my fan fic but tell me what you think and I will post my progress. Share your ideas please.

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Encrypted Venom

 

The sun set across the blue waving horizon. Blue waves gently glided into the shore and slid up onto the beach. The pink sand began to light up in the early morning sky. Exotic birds called into the crisp air and fled from their trees. The silhouette of a building stood a top it all. The windows began to fill with light. A red light flashed across the glass surface.

A sharp sound pierced through the sky. The glass shattered in a mix of glass and red. One scream echoed into the distilled area through the window. On the front door a small red light flickered in the corner of the empty porch. It flashed green and it erupted into a raging fireball. The door blew inside the room and smashed into a wall. A dark figure came into view. He groaned and fell to the floor clenching his throat. The end of a scope glared in the sunlight.

“Alpha. We’re clear, move in!”

Six shadows ran through the doorway with guns aimed. Three flashes went off and gunshots rang through the room. A splash of red stuck to the wall and hurrying footsteps came down the hall. The shadows turned and three silent bursts eliminated the sounds. They continued through the hall and came to a large cherry wood door. They opened it followed by another flash and flurry of sound. Two shots were sounded and two people fell to the elegant carpet. Still the team moved on. One of the shadows stayed back and fired at a door. A cry of pain sounded just past the door. The group moved up the stairs and approached a large door surrounded by amazing artwork. Suddenly a green light flashed on the doorknob. A rush of flame and wood exploded into the shadows. Splinters shot into the wall as the shadows fell to the ground.

“Venom! Venom! Do you copy? Venom”

“They’re gone, sir the entire team has been wiped out. Call the S.S.O”

S.S.O Headquarters

San Francisco, California USA

1600 Hours

 

“A group of Delta operators were just killed in Germany. A bomb eliminated them when they tried to save the embassy,” exclaimed a tall figure as he walked into the room.

[HaVoC]

Not bad, not bad at all.

 

Not that I could be bothered to read it all, like.

 

Oh...

[enzo100]

Heh....ty mate now get on MSN lol.

[rizzo]

Nice one mate, i want more!

[Megalomaniac]

It lacks overall detail, I couldn't really get a good picture of what the rooms looked like, the action was almost to clear for such a lack of environmental detail.

 

When I write I try and put myself into each character's head and look at what the surrounds look like and throw in details about the room when prudent, like when they complient or contrast the action or dialouge.

[HaVoC]

The first piece of GCSE English coursework I had to write was a descriptive piece. Most wrote a description of a lovely garden or some such folly. I wrote about a chav-filled supermarket car park...

 

The Car Park

 

The glowing new supermarket sits in the centre of the dark car park like a glass and neon island in an ocean of black tarmac. Occasional cars come and go, like curious fish in this sea of darkness. Tramps in cardboard boxes sit outside the doors like crabs in their shells, basking in the warmth of the undersea vent on the building’s side. Late-night shoppers dart like startled shrimp in and out of the gateway to light from the murky depths of the night.

 

Near the supermarket lies a cheap Irish bar. Drunken men and women enter and leave, stumbling over invisible obstacles like blind people in a building site, and carrying each other short distances before keeling over and dropping their cargo like ships hitting an invisible iceberg. They laugh and wail and contort themselves like crazy gymnasts. The smell here is almost too strong for words too. The stench is that not of a small pub, but of an entire brewery. It hits your nose with the force of a high-speed train. The drunken young people slowly hobble towards the supermarket, staggering and stuttering as they shout and scream.

 

Further into the depths of the tarmac sea, unruly youths race to and fro like angry bees trying to find something to sting. Clustered around a small nucleus of cars, they swarm like wasps around the nest. Jumping into rusty trolleys, the troublemakers test out their talents as racing drivers, swerving around invisible corners and slamming into the barriers of cars scattered across the their imaginary circuit. All the time the hooligans are watched and taunted by their friends. The vile stenches of alcohol and tobacco mingle in the air and drift steadily across the car park towards the sleeping noses of the tramps.

 

A car alarm rings out like a bird’s shrill distress call as glass is scattered with the sound of small bells across the tarmac. The brick lands on the seat with a dull thud, and two of the scallies back off and run away. With the speed of antelope, they are gone. A youth gingerly reaches in and unlocks the door. He opens the door very rapidly, and beats his hand on the dashboard with the ferocity and power of a mad elephant trying to trample a tiny insect. The distress call ceases, and then the tiger under the bonnet awakes. The familiar booming beat of Bohemian Rhapsody blares out of the back, the tiger roars yet louder, and then, like a jet taking off from an aircraft carrier, the car is gone, leaving only a cloud of dense white smoke and a trail of black shiny rubber, much like the slime trail left by a snail.

 

No more than a few seconds after the departure of the troublesome teenagers, a small gathering of joyriders enters the car park, somehow forming a cloud of smoke even denser than that left by the thieves. The noise is like a stampede of supercharged buffalo, with engines revving and a low rumbling sound causing the ground to shake and tremble. The cars grind to a halt, and the earthquake ceases. Like cargo being unloaded from ships, some people disembark hurriedly from the cars. The cars begin an intricate and carefully choreographed dance of illegal moves, leaving yet more rubber and smoke in the air. The smell of burning rubber becomes stronger and stronger, and before long it is truly overpowering, burning the inside of your nose like the rubber itself.

 

Sirens can be heard in the distance. The high-pitched, banshee-like wailing of police cars echoes through the night like ripples spreading out across the sea. They move towards the car park, and before long, a column of lights can be seen approaching the entrance like lights on a Christmas tree. The string of lights enters the parking lot, and the street racers’ illegal dance comes to an end. They attempt to scatter like people running from a falling object, heading in all directions as they panic and attempt to flee from the cops. But the police cars, painted in white and luminous yellow, and standing out from the black tarmac like stars in the night’s sky, manage to block the escapees and trap them in the car park. With nowhere to go, the desperate street-racers give themselves up.

 

Elsewhere within the pitch-black ocean, the hooligans return, this time without the stolen car. Unconcerned that they might just be seen and rounded up like stray cattle by the police, they go about their monkey business. This time, instead of racing around in badly maintained trolleys, they climb up and swing from streetlights like apes in the jungle. They throw bottles once filled with alcoholic drinks around with gay abandon, scattering sharp shards of shattered glass all over the place and soaking their mates with the remnants of whatever used to be in the bottles. One of the young menaces pulls out a shiny silver slingshot and begins to take aim at a streetlight. As he glares at the streetlight and takes aim at the bulb, the streetlight glares back with its single yellow eye. The boy releases the catapult, the projectile flies towards the light, and the light’s eye closes. The area in the lamp’s line-of-sight is plunged into darkness, as though a thick dark blanket were pulled over it. After some time, the boys decide to go home. They drop down from the tops of the streetlamps, and run off into the darkness, laughing both to and at each other, and continue throwing and breaking things until they are no longer visible or audible.

 

The police, meanwhile, are finishing their business with the street-racers and are beginning to leave. The lights atop their cars, now warm with long usage, are snuffed out like candles. A few of the fearless felons are bundled into the back of the cramped police cars, and the cars pull away. The car park is left silent. Until tomorrow, that is…

 

Don't make me post my Jane Eyre essays...

[enzo100]

It lacks overall detail, I couldn't really get a good picture of what the rooms looked like, the action was almost to clear for such a lack of environmental detail.

 

When I write I try and put myself into each character's head and look at what the surrounds look like and throw in details about the room when prudent, like when they complient or contrast the action or dialouge.

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

 

I know. I did that purposely. It is meant to be a hook rather than the main story. Those Delta operators will be a small part in the story. It was just supposed to be a flsh of data.

[Tripod]

It is very interesting in which words you used to describe a battle. I also liked how you didn't really hint into what was going on until the last few lines. I didn't really like how you said

“A group of Delta operators were just killed in Germany. A bomb eliminated them when they tried to save the embassy,” exclaimed a tall figure as he walked into the room.

 

Eliminated is not the word I would have used. Just seemed odd to describe death. Eliminated is something you would use to describe a tournament, not a battle.

 

Also, it sort of seems like you were trying to throw in as many fancy words as you could. Sometimes that gets boring, at least to me. You don't need every other word to be some obscure word from the dictionary.

 

Overall, I liked it.

[Megalomaniac]

I know. I did that purposely. It is meant to be a hook rather than the main story. Those Delta operators will be a small part in the story. It was just supposed to be a flsh of data.

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

But the description of the action was to clear cut for it to just be a flash, it felt to slow paced no rushed enough to be a flash.