Young Writers Society

CLAUD AND CLAIRE. CLAUDIA, CLAUDETTE, AND CLARICE. A family of five. Kill them all. You know what to do. Disobey and there will be consequences.
The voice screams violently at me. I start running.
It’s windy. Terribly windy.
I can’t do this.
I can. I have to.
No. I can’t. Someone else can do it, but not me. I can’t do this. Not again.
I’m scared. I’m cold.
Did I mention that it’s windy?
I’m imagining tornadoes ripping through this town and carrying me away. If I’m carried away, there is no way for me to do this appalling deed. Maybe it’s a good thing then.
Tornadoes terrify me. Rain repulses me. But most of all, blood is my blight.
Tonight is my nightmare. Tonight is my torture. Tornadoes, rain, and blood. The combination that will ensure my downfall.
CLAUD AND CLAIRE. CLAUDIA, CLAUDETTE, AND CLARICE. A family of five. Kill them all. You know what to do. Disobey and there will be consequences.
I call the voice the Enemy. I can’t escape the Enemy’s harsh cries. It won’t leave. I must surrender to it, it’s presence is too strong to resist.
The knife is icy in my hand. The knife is comforting. I feel secure as my hand grasps it. Secure yet helplessly sadistic. I promised myself I would never do this again. I wasn’t ever going to do this again. But now there is no choice. Now I have too. Tonight could be my end. Tonight could be my demise.
CLAUD AND CLAIRE. CLAUDIA, CLAUDETTE, AND CLARICE. A family of five. Kill them all. You know what to do. Disobey and there will be consequences.
The bloodthirsty Enemy attacks the inside of my head again. “NO! I WON’T DO IT!” someone screams. I realize that someone was me. Had I really just defied the Enemy who had plagued me all my life? The voice I had become a slave to? That’s when I notice something critical. I had dropped the knife. Just opened my fingers and let it fall. It splashed in a puddle on the dirt road. Am I finally free?
I wonder if you didn’t hear me when I said there would be severe repercussions if you did not comply. Pick up the knife, Cor, pick it up now.
I surprise myself yet again by standing still. I run no more, nor do I reach for the knife. But what am I doing? I know what will happen if I don’t carry out the Enemy’s wishes. She’ll die.
Your lack of action alarms me. Are you really disobeying my orders, Cor? After all we’ve been through?
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I shout into the damp night. The Enemy is such a predictable evil, I know what it wants me to do and feel. That’s how it controls me.
Very well, Cor. Claralynn is dead.
I have broken free from the Enemy, yet I also have done the one thing I swore I’d never do. Claralynn will die tonight. Claralynn will die because of me. Claralynn will die with one knife through her heart. But there will be another death tonight. Two hearts will feel the sting of a knife. One heart belongs to Claralynn, and the other belongs to me.
Tonight is my nightmare. Tonight is my torture. Tonight is my demise.




I was a horrible child. Father hated me and mother was afraid of me. The Enemy controlled everything I did, I was a demon. I broke things, threatened my mother with knives, bit other children so hard they needed stitches, and more. I did awful things.
The worst things happened to people with names that began with C. The Enemy hates the letter C. The Enemy hates me, maybe for that reason, but it can use me, so it keeps me alive. I can end it forever. I know I can. But that means ending me. Forever. The best thing for me to do would be to end it. End me. I have the strength to do it somewhere in me. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not.
As I stand in the middle of this muddy road, I think of Claralynn. If I don’t die tonight, she will. I’ve only ever caused her pain. Never, have I done anything good for that angelic girl. She’s the perfect target. The Enemy hates C names and good people. More than that though, the Enemy hates anyone who means something to me, anyone who really shouldn’t die, so those are the people the Enemy makes me kill. Those are the people who die by my hands. There is so much blood on my hands. They are stained forever more.
I cannot kill Claralynn. Coren Henry Dart will not kill Claralynn Octavia Renoir.
There is power in names. Maybe if I order myself using our full, entire names, that order will be set in indestructible stone. At least I can hope. Ah hope! What a silly notion! When have I last dared to think of that disappointing word? Hope died the day the Enemy came. I guess there really never was hope. Humans, no, creatures like me don’t deserve hope, therefore, it is fitting that I don’t have it.
There is one thing I am absolutely sure of. If Claralynn dies, I will end it forever. In other words: If I kill Claralynn, I will kill myself and the Enemy with me.
The Enemy is silent. I am drenched to the bone. I cannot bring myself to move, I don’t know what will happen if I do. I’m scared. More scared than I have ever been.
Clara, Clara, Claralynn! Clara, Clara, Claralynn! Thick red water! Syrup! Syrup! Bright red syrup! Shiny blades, bloody hearts! Clara, Clara, Claralynn! Clara, Clara, Claralynn!
The Enemy sings it’s predatory song. This is my only warning that I will lose Claralynn very soon. The Enemy favors creepy tunes with disturbing lyrics. This is the song it always sings before it forces me to kill someone, of course instead of Claralynn the name of the person I’m about to kill is in the song instead. This time the song was worse. Claralynn’s name fit far too well inside the sickening melody.
“No, no! Please no!” I scream. The porch light of a house down the street ignites, illuminating the helpless raindrops being thrown about by the savage wind.
Cor, Cor, Cor. You have made your choice, forcing me to make a choice of my own. Don’t act so surprised, Claralynn’s death was bound to happen one day. She’s the last one, Cor, the very last one. Be a good little boy and say goodbye before she goes.
The Enemy is tempting me. How easily I could climb to Claralynn’s window and enter her room. How easily I could talk to her and be with her. How easily I could plunge a knife into her innocent heart. No, I will not see Claralynn. I must distance myself from her.
Coooreeen. Coooreeen. Listen to me, Cor. I’m your friend. Have I ever let you down? I am the only reason your alive. Do as I ask, Cor, and Claralynn’s death may be less painful than it needs to be.
So there you have it. The Enemy will not relinquish its threats. I know the Enemy well enough to realize that its threats are far from idle.
I knew this day would come. I knew I’d be shocked, yet I knew I wouldn’t really be shocked. It was always coming, this day. It always hung over my head, like a brooding thundercloud waiting to let loose the rage inside it. The Enemy is striking its final blow. Claralynn is the only one I have left.
Coooreeen. Coooreeen.
The Enemy sings my name with a horrible command hidden beneath it. I cannot, will not, do it. Not this time. I refused to kill the Cedar family, I can refuse to kill Claralynn too. I have a choice. Don’t I? I think of all the years of murder and torture I was a part of. I never thought I had a choice until tonight. This dreadful, dreary night. What is so different about tonight? What has magically changed? Does it really matter anyway? The Enemy will find a way to kill Claralynn no matter what. There is nothing I can do about it.
If I kill Claralynn there will be no point in living. I’ll die with her. She won’t die in vain. Or will she? I can end it now. I could always end it. But... but what?
I can’t! I can’t kill myself!
I can! I will kill myself.
Claralynn. That is the only person I need to think of. All the meaningless murders. Claralynn is far from meaningless. She cannot be my last murder.
Coooreeen, you know what’s going to happen. You will obey me, just like you always do. Silly boy, you never change. Claralynn abandoned you when that tragedy occurred. But I still stood by you! I, Coren, and only I! She threw you away! I kept you together!
All my senses sharpen. I don’t speak of the tragedy. The Enemy doesn’t speak of the tragedy. The Enemy has just reached a new low. As for me, I have now hit rock bottom. Every day I think of the tragedy. Every day. But the horror of it hasn’t hit me like its hitting me now in a very long time. I feel my body crash to the ground. It doesn’t matter that the road is slick with rain. I’m drenched already. I have no control over my sodden body as I flop onto the asphalt.
Claralynn is the only person, besides me, who knows about the tragedy. It has been five years since I’ve talked to her. All I remember clearly about the night of the tragedy is the look on Claralynn’s eyes when I told her what I’d done.
Terror. It was terror on her eyes that night. She was terrified of me.













The night is young. The child’s parents are discussing therapy again. As if therapy will rid Coren of my presence! Ha! Adults are supposed to be bright and commanding things! In reality, though, adults are such naïve and sniveling creatures. It is simply revolting, the lack of intelligence.
Coren is so easy to manipulate, mostly due to our young age. It disgusts me to include myself in talk of Coren. He is a simpleton. However, I am not at liberty to choose whom I am born with. I have dealt with worse in past lives.
Coren has an issue with emotions. They are too strong for his own good. Tonight they will get in the way more than ever, but of course I have a trick up my sleeve. I am brimming with tricks, you know.
Although therapy will not destroy me, it will weaken me, especially with the level of Coren’s determination. His determination must be smothered very soon, I remind myself. It is necessary to have an obedient host. I will not put up with mutiny. Therapy will only empower the boy. Thus, his parents simply must go. I would say it pains me a great deal to dispose of them, but that would be a lie, though I have never really had much of an issue with lying. I lie to Coren practically every moment and I feel no remorse. Coren and I are so different in that aspect, I have little to no emotions while he is overflowing with the useless feelings. Coren lets himself be controlled by those parents of his. I, and only I, must be the true conductor of Coren’s actions. I will not allow him to have outside forces pressuring him, even if he wants them there. Why should I care about the wants of an imbecile? I do not care. Not at all.
Never before have I encountered a boy so inclined to good morals as Coren is. My Coren is such a delicate flower. Have you ever discovered a flower that did not wilt? Of course you have not. That is precisely my point. When the flower is destroyed, I will go down with it. Therefore, it is my sole purpose to help that flower bloom to its full potential and grow thorns larger than its enticingly harmless petals.
Then when I have fulfilled that purpose, I move on. Simple as that.
I do believe I am straying from my main topic, though. Coren’s parents simply must die. Coren bit that obnoxious Jared child today, which gives his parent’s a perfect excuse to “talk to him.” Of course they will really be yelling at him and threatening him with military school but they always like to call it “talking.” I shall never understand the adult way of thinking. They are Coren’s parents and yet they know nothing about the child. I am the one who comforts and nurtures him, I am the one who holds him together! They do nothing but hold him back. And for that, they will die.
I do believe it sounds as if I have some sort of “soft spot” for Coren, however, this is not the case. I am here to do a job. I am not permitted to fail in this task. I care little of what happens to Coren, but I care very much of what happens to me, therefore, I must make sure Coren turns out as I wish him to. I am not too worried though; I have much experience with children Coren’s age and I have had many successes in the past. Coren is a challenge, but nothing I cannot handle.
This discussion brings us right back to my final decision. The parental units must die. I fear I have been veering off track again, for which I do apologize gravely for, but this, you know, is my nature. I am distracted by nature, something I have communicated very well to Coren. All his ADHD medications make him so much easier to manipulate. Life is so very uncomplicated at some precious moments. Yet at other moments it is so challenging, for example: right now is really a quite difficult moment. I am going to have to figure out some way to make Coren do my bidding, without knowing he is doing it. I can force him to do things, but that will only make things messy, and there is nothing I enjoy less than untidiness. No, this must be quick and unpredictable. It must happen fast and painlessly, in a figure of speech. Of course pain will be involved, but there would be more pain if I had to cope with Coren opposing my orders. He is such a tiresome child at times. The only time he is relatively easy to manage is when his mind is at rest in the land of Nod.
Ah ha! I have found the child’s weakness! The secret to my success tonight is so simple! How often the most complicated of questions have an answer of just one word! I am not foolish enough to uphold my ego rather than admit to my mistake of over-thinking my schemes. I admit, I am quite a simpleton at this moment. How could I overlook such an obvious answer? My age must be interfering with my usually unconquerable thoughts. I suppose I should tell my delightful audience the answer to my riddle. Very well, the answer, dear audience, is sleep. Yes, sleep. I said myself Coren is at his most manageable state while he is drifting in the land of dreams, so why shouldn’t I interfere with his sleeping pattern, put his brain to sleep and control his body? I am as much a part of this body as he is. I deserve this control.
I’ll do what needs to be done. Coren’s parents are dead.















“Coren, just go to bed!” mother raises her voice. She isn’t happy. Father glares at me. Father always glares at me. Why is that?
I see the marks from my teeth on Father’s arm. The Enemy says he deserves it. I don’t know though. The Enemy doesn’t always give me good-intentioned instructions. That’s why I call it the Enemy. But I always listen to the Enemy. The Enemy understands me. Father only glares at me and mother only yells.
I don’t move. I don’t want to go to bed and I don’t want father to tuck me in. I know he doesn’t like me. I don’t like him. I like mother, even though she yells.
“No. I’m not going. Not with him,” I say. The Enemy makes my voice sound scary. I don’t like it.
Mother’s eyes get wide. Father is surprised. My voice startles them. I don’t understand their surprise, this is not the first time my voice has gone scary. Mother steps back. Father stands in front of her with his hands held out, like he’s warding off an evil curse. I realize that I am the evil curse. Father doesn’t like me. Mother likes me sometimes though, but now she looks afraid. I don’t like when she’s afraid.
Coren... Coren... Coren... Go to sleep now Coren... Sleep... Dream...
The sing-song voice of the Enemy lulls my mind to sleep. Something is wrong. But I cannot stay awake. I give in to the Enemy’s demands. I begin to dream.
A knife. The dream starts out with a knife. I’m holding the knife. It’s a steak knife I’ve taken off the kitchen table. Mother and Father are in front of me, trying to shield each other.
“Coren, sweetie, put the knife down. Coren, just put it down, honey, okay?” mother says cautiously. I want to listen to her but my hands are glued around the knife. I don’t like this dream. I want it to end.
“Coren. Put. Down. The. Knife. Now!” father commands. Even though father is yelling at me, I still want to listen but the world of dreams won’t let me.
I step towards my parents, holding the knife in front of me, pointing it at them. Mother steps back but father holds his ground. “Coren, I know your frustrated with a lot of things and I know you have questions, but this will not help you get answers. Just put the knife down and we’ll talk about it, okay?” father’s voice is kind. This alarms me. Father is never kind, not even in my dreams. I want more than ever to throw the knife on the tiled floor but it won’t leave my hands. I try to tell my parents that I can’t drop the knife but the words won’t come out. This dream is very strange. Why won’t it end?
I am silent as I make my advance. Soon my parents’ backs are against the kitchen wall. They have no escape. Suddenly, I lunge. My parents did not expect this. Mother screams as I pierce father’s heart. I am thankful that this is only a dream.
Blood. Blood is everywhere. Out of all the wounds I’ve caused, no one has ever died before. Father is going to die. I can feel it. I’m standing in a pool of his blood.
Mother doesn’t move. She’s horrified. I’m horrified. I realize that this is no longer just a dream when I look at my dead father’s hollow face. This is a nightmare.
Just as unexpectedly as the first lunge, I spring forward and stab mother’s heart as well. She sinks to floor next to father, gasping for air. Their blood mixes and mingles. Soon, they are both dead. I have killed them. Only in a dream, of course, but I have killed them all the same.
I don’t think normal children have dreams about killing their parents. But no one has ever described me as normal before, so maybe that’s why. Still, this has been a horrific dream.
Finally, I wake up. I’m face first on the kitchen floor, some type of thick liquid soaking my face.
The truth hits me like a train. I start running.














It takes me ten minutes to realize where I’m running too. The suburban sidewalk is leading me straight to Claralynn’s house. My best and only friend. She won’t be my best friend anymore once I tell her what I did.
It’s funny. She’s the only person I’ve never hurt. I don’t know how it’s like that. It’s a bit miraculous. I hurt everyone. I don’t like it, but I do. It’s the Enemy. I don’t have any defense against it. But things have gone too far this time.
My parents are dead. I killed them. I don’t like those two words: dead and killed.
The Enemy is silent. What more could it possibly say? Nothing it says could make me any more upset than I already am.
I don’t think I’m ever going to forget tonight. I’ll have nightmares. I know it. Nightmares that won’t ever end.
Who knows what’s going to happen to me now? They don’t put ten year olds in jail do they? Do they make me sleep forever like they do with those poor old dogs that are too sick to be happy? Am I going to be dead like a sad animal? I should be. I know I should. No one should get away with what I just did. I mean, they were my parents! I should have loved them! I did. But not enough not to kill them I guess.
I can’t remember how everything happened. Did I just stick a knife in them and start running, or was there more before that? I’m trying to remember. I can’t. It’s all black.
I’m still running. Claralynn’s house is just around the block. Only a few more steps. I know this is a bad idea. What if the Enemy makes me hurt her? What will I do then?
For a moment, I try to stop my feet from running, but I can’t. Who else could I go to? It’s not like I have anymore family with my parents gone, and even if I did, who would take me in? What person would take in some monster like me? I’m glad I have next to no one. I should. I deserve every ounce of sadness I get. I deserve it. I’m a monster.
Thank God Claralynn’s house is only two streets away and that it’s not raining. I’d be too scared to run then. But it is dark. I don’t like the dark. Soon I’ll be with Claralynn though, and she takes the dark away.
I turn onto Willow Cove Ln. and Claralynn’s house is the second one on the left. The house is white like Claralynn’s soul. That’s how I always remember which one it is. The porch light is on, as always and the garden surrounding the friendly looking porch is blooming with the coming of spring and all. The Renoir house is the prettiest on the whole street, no, it’s the prettiest in the whole neighborhood.
I run around to the back of the house, careful not to trip on the uneven stepping stones. Standing under the low overhang of the roof, I think about the first time I crawled up onto the shingles two years ago when I was just eight years old. We made the plans for our midnight meetings on our 2nd grade graduation day. It was so long ago, before the Enemy ever made me hurt anyone irreversibly. Since when did two years feel like a thousand?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need to concentrate if I’m going to climb onto the overhang beneath Claralynn’s bedroom window. I scramble over to the back porch and reach underneath it. My hands grasp the familiar shape of the step stool Claralynn stowed there. After setting it up underneath the overhang, I climb up onto the roof. Claralynn tied a piece of rope around the step stool’s handle so I could pull it up onto the roof after me, just in case her parents went outside. We knew they probably didn’t care if I was there or not, but it just wasn’t the same if I went there announced. So I repeat the steps I’d taken so many times before.
I don’t like heights, but I’d do anything for Claralynn, so here I am, standing on her roof. I crawl over to her window and knock the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” which is our secret code. Almost immediately Claralynn opens the window and helps me through the window.
“Coren! What are you doing here? It’s 10 o’clock! I’m supposed to be sleeping and if my parents hear you....” Claralynn whispered. Her shoulder length curly blonde hair is tied back in a blue ribbon that matches her nightgown and her eyes. She’s really pretty.
“I know, sorry. I just... Clara... I did something horrible tonight,” I say, using my nickname for Claralynn.
Her face turns white. She knows all about the Enemy. She jumps on her pink-covered bed and motions for me to join her. I sit lightly on the edge of it, my back to her. I don’t want to face her, not now, not this time. I look around her blue and pink room. It’s full of unicorns, flowers, and magic. It fits Claralynn. She is magic.
“Cor... what happened?” she asks, hesitant of the answer. I don’t blame her. She knows as well as I do that the enemy can only get worse from here. She just doesn’t know how much worse.
I can’t stop the tears. They burn in my eyes and tumble down my cheeks. I keep wiping my face, trying to get them away but they keep coming and I can’t stop them. For someone who’s used to rarely ever having control over anything, I really don’t like not being in control. Maybe that’s why I hate my life. “They’re dead... they’re both dead... I couldn’t... I couldn’t...” I blurt, stuttering the words like a moron. The tears get worse and I begin to sob. Claralynn seems to grasp it right away.
“No... Coren, you didn’t! Not them... they’re your parents, Coren... you love them!” she whispers with disbelief. I sob harder.
“The Enemy doesn’t care, Clara! The Enemy probably wanted to kill them more than anyone else just because I loved them! You know how it works! I can’t help it Clara, I can’t! I’m sorry! Can’t anyone tell that I’m sorry?” I shout. I’m losing all control.
“Hey, shhh!” she hushes me. “Maybe they’re not really dead, maybe they’re just hurt. And Coren, it wasn’t you’re fault! I know that! So will the police, it wasn’t your fault,” she assures me.
My head snaps up. The police. What was she thinking? “Claralynn,” I say in a surprisingly deadly voice. I don’t like using that tone with Claralynn, but sometimes I have to. Now is one of those times. She shouldn’t have said that word. We’d been over this before. “Police, Claralynn? Police? Do you think they’ll just let me go because I have a voice in my head that makes me do things? Because I don’t have control over my own body? Claralynn! Do you want them to take me? Do you want them to put me in a crazy house where no one will ever believe me? Is that what you want?” as I ask that last question my voice gets lower, so low it’s just a faint whisper. I’m pleading with her. She can’t tell the police. I know what they’ll do to me. Not that I don’t deserve it...
Her face is white and her eyes are terrified, but then stone-cold resolve steps in. “No, Coren, I would never want that. You know I wouldn’t. Just... what do you want me to do? You come here and tell me that you killed your own parents and you expect me to be calm about it? Maybe you should get help, Coren. I can’t help you, not now,” her words break my heart. She’s the only one who cares about me, and here she is, telling me she can’t help me. If she can’t help me, what can I do? I wipe my face clean of the tears. Crying won’t get me anywhere.
“If that’s the way you want it, I’ll leave. I’ll get help from experimenting scientists who need a piece of meat to poke and prod. I always knew I was crazy, but I thought you believed in me, believed that I wasn’t. I was wrong. I’ll leave,” I say with my own resolve. I stand from the bed and walk back towards the window. I refuse to meet her eye. Just as I’m about to climb through it again she comes up behind me and grabs my arm. She turns me around and presses her lips to mine. I’m so startled I just stand there, not knowing what to do. She pulls away, slaps at the tears flowing from her eyes and turns her back to me. I turn back to the open window. We both know what this is. This is goodbye. I can never come back. I will never see Claralynn again.
With one last look over our shoulders, our eyes meet. I’m crushed by what I see. Those bright blue eyes are full of something I’d never seen in her eyes before. It’s horror. Total horror. Horror because she now really knew who I am. Horror because a monster was in her room. After ten seconds of her terrified eyes on mine, she bows her head. “Goodbye, Coren,” she says so softly I can barely hear her.
“Goodbye, Claralynn,” I say just as softly, then I climb back through the window and make my way through the night.

I love it!

The hook on this is amazing. I don't think I've ever felt so sympathetic towards a potential serial killer before. You've introduced the main character (or characters?) really well. I'm also highly curios as to who 'The Enemy' is.

I like your style of writing. It's simple and easy to follow, but still very well put together. I especially loved the line 'Secure yet helplessly sadistic,' it completely entranced me.

Sorry, I've no critisism to offer. I'd say if you can continue this quality, it's a project definately worth pursuing.

Thank you sooo much!

~time8keeper

I don't quite get why you have multiple chapter up on here, since you have them in your novel folder. Really, it makes it look kind of ugly, and really intimidating for someone who's here to just review the prologue. I'd suggest taking them down, because there's no real reason for them to be in this particular file of your novel.

But on to the actual review (which I'm only doing of this prologue. I'll get to your other parts in their respected threads. Oh, and I haven't read any of the other chapters).

I like your writing style. It's unique. It's consistent. And it goes well with the mood. Though I don't really see it happening here, beware of your style mashing the words. You have a lot of short sentences. This works here. Just be careful to not overdo it ever, or to force this on parts. The words should flow naturally.

CLAUD AND CLAIRE. CLAUDIA, CLAUDETTE, AND CLARICE. A family of five. Kill them all. You know what to do. Disobey and there will be consequences.

Why are the names capitalized? I realize you're trying to emphasize them, but formatting like this is generally frowned upon by writers and those in the publishing business. For now, I'd suggest uncapitalizing them (or at least uncapitalizing the "and"s, as it draws the eyes to the names. But as I said, there's no real purpose for it to be like this, and all caps are hard on the eyes. In most cases, nothing more than distracting.

“NO! I WON’T DO IT!”

Like I said above, all caps = no no. In cases like this, the exclamation points speak for themselves. The caps is just melodramatic and makes this look like it's done by an amateur, because only amateurs think that things like this are helpful. The rest know that they're generally hated. Also, two exclamation points together are generally not welcome, though I think here they are justified. But a rule of thumb is to let your writing speak for yourself, and if it can't give the effect without all this punctuation, then maybe it's not strong enough. Enhance the words, not the trimmings.

I wonder if you didn’t hear me when I said there would be severe repercussions if you did not comply. Pick up the knife, Cor, pick it up now.

This is too wordy and too unsure. I'm assuming The Enemy knows that Cor heard it. Avoid phrases like "I wonder," "it seems," and such things as much as possible. It makes the writing seem like it's unsure of itself, and that it doesn't have a grasp of what it actually is. Exceptions for this are thoughts and dialogue, but only if the person really is "wondering" or are unsure of what happened. For this part, trim it down. More compact will make it more definite, and more intimidating.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Again, with the caps, but that's not the only thing I have to say about this. Cor's thoughts are so simple, so rational, and so detached. They understand what's happening, how things work, but not like he's actually experiencing it. He screams, but doesn't realize he's done it till it's not. He drops the knife, doesn't pick it up, but it's like he's being controlled. It's involuntary. And that's probably the desired effect. In which case, you have marvelously succeeded. So tone down the emphasis on the words (and take away the punctuation and the dialogue tag, changing the tag to something less loud and emotional). But if that's not the point, then amp up the thoughts, make them more dramatic. Give us examples of his senses, of what he feels, both physically and emotionally. What does he hear? Smell? See? Does anything hurt? Does anything echo? Are the surroundings angry? Sensory details will amp all that up.

Also, if you're going for detached, the ending works, but it also leaves me with a lot of questions. Who is Claralynn? And if she's so important to him to be used as leverage for murder, then why is his reaction so... lacking? I'm assuming shock. He hasn't processed his situation. He knows what's going on, but he doesn't truly feel the weight of it. That works. But most of what I'm saying here is, keep this consistent. Reactions like this can be normal, depending on the person. But it's only normal if that is always their reaction.

Overall, this is really good, and it raises a lot of questions, which is good because that's why people keep reading; because they want to know more. I like how you wrote this, and I like how you did things. No, it's not perfect, but it's good, and if you take in mind the things I said, it can get even better. Keep writing.

loveness, ultraviolet <3

Hey, so, looking on your Chapter One thread, I see that the prologue is chapter one... so I'm kinda now assuming that this is your thread for all of your chapters. So yeah, you can ignore that part of my review. Also, I'd suggest changing the numbering. (And if I'm babbling and totally confused about this, then forgive me. I'm kinda tired.)

loveness, ultraviolet <3