Young Writers Society

Helloooo

These are two potential intro's to a novel I am writing. Please let me know which ones you like, why and any comments on grammar, scentences structure and overall content would be vastly appreciated

Also, just to clarify a point before you read onwards

the symbol '<' at the beginning and '>' at the end of a scentence means the dialogue is spoken and heard through the mind/thoughts only/ communicated by nonverbal methods/ telepathic/ etc.

The concept that I have for my version of the 'vampire' I intend to be vastly different for what has been seen or done as of yet so as the story progresses you will see some things that are outside the normal realm for these creatures. There will be a few similarities, of course (ie: requiring blood for survival).

Any other questions - feel free to ask and I will do my best to clarify.


Prologue (tentative #1)

The night air was crisp, warm and filled with the steady beat of a thousand hearts waiting to be bled dry. The vast and empty stretch of black sky overhead was speckled with scattered stars and the pregnant orb of a silver moon which hung heavy and full like a succulent grape waiting to be plucked from the dark abyss.

He stood next to her, still and silent, but he didn’t have to utter a single word in order for her to hear his thoughts as clearly as if they were her own.

<Gaze upon the sleeping city, my beauty. See how peaceful, how serene they are? Safe and tucked away in their homes, fires burning in the hearth, husband and wives wrapped in their course wool bed sheets…hear them all my love. Feel them.>

Head of ebony hair tipped back, Lamia breathed in the salty breeze and with it drew in the scent of warm bodies and fresh souls of vibrant young men, virginal women and innocent children. Each breath was like a drug, churning her cold blood and bringing it to boil in her veins.

She had never tasted fresh blood or seen the look in their eyes as they glazed over with death. She had never experienced the thrill that accompanied in the final moment of the kill where one could see the life ebb and flow from the victim with a sigh… Such pleasures had been denied to her, until tonight, just as she had been promised.

His hand circled from behind Lamia, to skim along her torso and upwards towards her full breasts. Even through the thin Egyptian cotton of her chemise her skin burned from his touch, instantly her loins were set ablaze and moisture collected in her passage.

The other arm came around her waist, holding tight to her body like a vice; mouth fastened to her neck, his fingers reached up under her thin hem and drew between her parted thighs.

<So wet, my beauty, dripping with passion and lust and fury. My insatiable and wanton queen of the night.> His fingers slipped along the moist crevice of her folds in teasing and languid strokes before delving deep within her core like a rock hard phallus. Lamia gasped, her vision blurred as with masterful ease he brought her quickly to orgasm. Fluid dribbled down her satiny thighs, his hand damp with her moisture he now sought to torment the sensitive nub tucked away within her womanly folds.

<Your mine, Lamia. Always.> His voice was a heady growl, the intensity of his thirst for her intensified Lamia’s own sexual frenzy. Limbs vibrating, the arousing pulse of fresh blood coursing through live bodies resounding from the quiet city below, the feel of his fingers as they drove her closer to madness, wave after wave of pleasure crashing down against her, all of it was bringing Lamia within an inch of insanity.

She fought against him for a moment, the sensations too strong, too fierce. She needed to feed, as much as she yearned for the feel of him inside her, she needed the blood – ripe, fresh, heady and aromatic, so much so she was salivating.

<Not yet.> Hand latched around her throat he squeezed hard, the sensation powerful and exquisite. <Take more.> Another climax burst through her centre like an earthquake, splitting her apart only to be pieced back together with each ravenous stroke of his fingers. She went weak and hazy before the hunger returned and doubled; the need clawing away at her with such raw vicious strength it brought both pleasure and pain.

<More.> Luther urged, fingers clamped tightly around the pale skin of her throat with brute force she came again and again, unable to deny him, unable to deny any of it. With each shuddering explosion Lamia was drawn to new heights of frenzy. She writhed against him, limbs straining for release, the pleasure pumping through every fiber of her being with euphoric and arduous vigor.

<Go now, my queen. Bring them fear – bring them terror and pain.> His arms drew away from her like the chains that bound a savage dog, releasing the beast caged within her body into the night.

Luther watched as she tore away into the darkness and shadows with all the speed and agility of a vampire caught in the blinding throes of bloodlust. It wasn’t long before the heady cries wafted up to where he stood on the cliff from below. The sounds of the dying, the smell of fire and blood, the screams of the innocent, all of it rose up against the howling wind and the silent stone to fill his mind and black heart with its crescendo of death and misery.

There he stood, basking in the night with the glow of the fire and haze of a silver moon, rejoicing in the horror that was wrought by his beauty, his Lamia while she ravaged the city and tore Libya to pieces.


Prologue (Tentative #2)

Broken. Shattered. Destroyed.

Those were the words that formed the instant he’d beheld her there deep within the confines of the cave, overlooking the vast expanse of open sea. The breeze wafting from the ocean through the tight passage of cold rock and stone would have once felt soothing he recalled, now it caused his eyes to water and sting, his skin to feel dry and irritated; in a few hours time it would begin to split, crack and bleed…he would hardly be able to stand much more then an hour down here and she had hidden herself away within the cave for close to three months.

The jagged and rough stone scrapping against his heavy leather boots was littered with split bones and rotten remains of rats, small dogs and the few men who had dared to venture deep within the belly of the cave in pursuit of a monster in the body of a woman who had once been their beloved queen.

Within the dim light of predawn she would have been difficult to spot for a human, but he was no mere mortal. Like her, he too was cursed with the demon and with it came certain enhancements. Had he not been able to see her in the eerie pale blue glow, the smell alone would have sufficed. Parts of her skin was raw and rancid, blood and pus oozed from lacerations cut deep into her body, scores on her arms where her finger nails had torn through, small patches where flesh had melted or ripped away to reveal tendons and bone.

Out of mourning and grief she had scratched and ripped away at her body and face, inflicting herself with physical pain to match the agony slicing through her heart.

“Lamia.” Her name was a tortured whisper and to say it nearly broke him in two. She had once been a woman, graceful and beautiful beyond compare and was now a quivering, sickly mass but her eyes were unmarred and still stunning and filled with such heart breaking sorrow.

Sangard could remember the first time he had seen her, swimming in the nighttime waters of the sea, her naked form highlighted by the glow of the moon and kissing her lightly tanned skin. He had loved her upon sight, in that moment, there in the moonlight while she swam in the sea.

The soul, tainted by the Vamprioric demon within his core, had for the first time in fifty years reflected something other then the darkness and shadows of the damned. In that instant he had been human again, just a man overwhelmed with desire and passion and love for a woman of indescribable beauty and strength of spirit. A woman he had sworn under oath to the King to protect.

“Do not call me that.” She’d barely uttered in a tone above a murmur but the inflection of her voice reverberated off the slick and damp walls of the sea cave, amplifying the disgust, sadness and despair. “I do not know who I am – I have no name now except demon.”

Sangard drew near her body where she had tucked away against the cold rock, arms wrapped around legs which were drawn high to her chest. She was nude, body exposed to harsh sting of the salty sea air. She wanted to die, that much was obvious. But instead of simply jumping into the sea and ending her life in one swift motion, she had chosen to rot away slowly in the bowels of the earth where the saltiness of the sea breeze could eat away at her with painstakingly drawn-out precision.

He removed his cloak from his shoulders with unsteady hands and despite her protests wrapped her weak and ravaged body in the soft wool. She fought against him at first, wild and spitting with rage but was soon reduced to sobs and tears. Her fingers latched onto the cotton of his tunic like talons, body cradled against him, Sangard leaned into the rock and held her close and safe.

She curled to his chest, sobbing like a child, throat raw from so many shed tears. The blood that oozed from her wounds was a thick and putrid black, the smell foul as it had started to rot in her veins. She needed to feed, it was clear she had denied herself any fresh sustenance for nigh on a month judging by the remains he found in her dwellings.

“I—killed them.” She buried her face in his broad and beefy chest, arms wrapped around his neck she held on and breathed him in. He was warm, comforting and safe. “I killed them all…has my father sent you to find me, Sangard? Are you here to take my life? Please end my suffering – I can’t live like this.” For a while he said nothing, continuing only to rock her, slow and gentle for he knew excessive motion would cause excruciating pain; he would rather cut off his own arm them inflict more hurt.

“No.” he said at last, voice deep and rich and filled with complete affection. “I have come to take you home.” Her head tipped back, wet brown eyes searching and filled with so many questions.

“Home? How can I go back there? I am a monster – I know you saw what I did.”

“Aye,” He nodded his head of silver blonde hair; his Nordic blue eyes never pulled away from her for an instant. “I don’t mean for us to go back to the palace. Come away with me Lamia, you can’t end your life like this.” A shadow crept into her gaze and in her he could see distrust.

“I sense something in you.” Even though Lamia had spoken softly, there was a bite in her tone and it cut deep with her words. She pressed a palm scrapped raw to his chest, through the tunic she felt the slow and languid beat of a dead heart. The demon within him quivered and coiled, crawling under his skin and Sangard knew Lamia sensed it.

“By all the Gods above and below – what are we? What foul curse had been brought down on us? What have I done to offend and invoke wrath of the furies for them to punish me so cruelly?” His arms held her close again, head tucked under his chin, he waited a beat while she sobbed bitter tears of regret.

“We are of another kind with many names and words whispered in dark corners. I know of someone who can help answer your questions and still your fear. She is old and wise beyond comprehension. She sent me to find you, to bring you forth and so I have.” Lamia was gazing up at him once more, face battered and ravaged from where her finger nails had clawed deep, cutting through skin and flesh revealing small patches of gleaming white bone stained with black blood.

At his hip was a small water bladder filled with the fresh blood of a new born colt he’d slain that evening. He brought the lip of the bladder to her mouth, saw her eyes turn red from the scent; he knew she could smell the youthful vitality as well as the strong aroma of horses and would know it had not come from a human…or a child.

“You mustn’t deny yourself any longer Lamia.” She wanted to refuse, she wanted to argue, but there was such devotion and sincerity in his stare that Lamia found she was unable to deny him even though she wanted to. He wasn’t Luther; he wouldn’t use or control her. That much she could see plain as day, but the urge to harm him – to harm all men for what she’d been subjected to, was momentarily blinding.

<No, that’s not you – that’s the demon.> Sangard’s voice filled her head, drowning her raging thoughts. He was right. It wasn’t her and it wasn’t what she wanted. Somewhere, underneath his soothing voice, she heard laughter, dark and deep and a part of her.

It was the laughter of the demon.

“I want to die Sangard but you’ve made me realize that I can’t allow that to be – not yet. Instead I swear this oath: I will go with you and I will meet with this woman and find the answers I need to become strong and in control. Then, when the time is right, I will destroy Luther and all those like him. I won’t rest until I have crushed his dead heart in my hands.” Her deep brown eyes, eyes that had always been so soft, loving and kind, turned hard as black diamonds, beautiful and cold, in her sockets. “I swear it on the love I bear for my children and husband whom I slew in savage bloodlust, even if it means I must burn in payment for my sins, I would face and eternity of damnation in return for vengeance.”

Alrighty.

Here's some streaming feedback for you to dwell upon

The hearts are "waiting" to be bled dry? Odd usage - makes it seem as if the bleeding is voluntary; seems a bit discordant. A bit of repetition in describing the moon. Again, the use of "waiting" - are grapes willingly picked, or are they seized from the vine by an unwelcome force?

The first line of the second paragraph flows a little better with "and" instead of "but." In the telepathic statement, the object goes from the singular "sleeping city" to the implied plural "people," but you don't acknowledge this. Coarse. Comma after "Feel them all." Emphasize the second "Feel them" in italics?

Setting is established on a coast or a salt lake.

Would the life be both ebbing and flowing? That suggests a periodic shift like the tides; death by vampire is usually pretty quick and unidirectional, isn't it?

"Even" seems a bit odd in that context. It doesn't really belong at all. A bit of comma work in this paragraph, too.

Vise, not vice, though bad habits do tend to be difficult to remove, as well.

Nothing in the next paragraph.

You're, not your.

Nothing as well here.

So Luther's finally named. Seems like a decent enough chap

Nothing in the next paragraph.

Okay, so Lamia is destroying the entire city? Ouch.

In Libya? Luther's a Germanic name. This points to a wide and diverse network, and if they go around like this every once in a while, sucks to be human.

------

I have to get going right now; I'll look at the second part when I get back.


Cheers,
MG

Woo hoo! Thanks for the review



The hearts are "waiting" to be bled dry? Odd usage - makes it seem as if the bleeding is voluntary; seems a bit discordant. A bit of repetition in describing the moon. Again, the use of "waiting" - are grapes willingly picked, or are they seized from the vine by an unwelcome force?



Q - Setting is established on a coast or a salt lake.

A - Lybia is a costal city.

Q - Would the life be both ebbing and flowing? That suggests a periodic shift like the tides; death by vampire is usually pretty quick and unidirectional, isn't it?

A - Generally it has been depicted as such. But I never found that to be very ... realistic, or dramatic. In this story, I want the feeding to be much more and definately want it to be drawn out...unless they can't seem to contain themselves. The more sinister vampires in this story enjoy playing with thier food ;P


So Luther's finally named. Seems like a decent enough chap

- Lol, that's what my friend and muse Saadia said. Too bad he's going to be the villian of this piece


Q - Okay, so Lamia is destroying the entire city? Ouch.

A - Yes she is. There was an old greek myth which I combined with a few other elements and played with my own spin on the folklore to give this character more depth. She is not the lead, but she is a vital piece and plays a very important role in the story which is to be the first book in two seperate series I am working on.

Q - In Libya? Luther's a Germanic name. This points to a wide and diverse network, and if they go around like this every once in a while, sucks to be human.

A - I wouldn't say this is a nightly venture, this was her first night released upon the city that had once been her home. She is feeding on friends, family and loved ones. Luther is sick and incredibly cruel. In this prologue, Lamia is lost inside the hunger of the demon and is unaware of the true horrors she is about to commit. You'll see her remorse and grief for her actions expressed in prologue #2.

Hey there,

You're planning to use only one of the two prologues, right? I'd suggest using the first one, for it is much stronger than the second. Or you could combine the two of them a bit, start with the first, have a time jump, then have the second. I've only reviewed the first one, though I've read the second, and must say that I prefer the 1rst. The second makes the vampires seem weaker and less merciless than the first, so they seem less impressive and... well, evil.

As usual, the review's in the attachment

I hope it's useful to you! Happy editing

XxxDo

Hey you,

thanks for the review as always it is greatly appreciated.

I wasn't sure if I would use one or both, its still kind of up in the air.


Also, I just wanted to respond to one of your comments...

The second makes the vampires seem weaker and less merciless than the first, so they seem less impressive and... well, evil.

That was kind of the general idea. I know vampires are always supposed to be seen as rabid killing machines with no feelings or emotions, but I wanted to put a different spin into the mix.

They're not these godlike creatures who consider themselves superior to 'humans' (at least, not all of them anyways ;P) but rather, lost souls left to battle through what is more of a waking nightmare to them and a curse.

Lamia is essentially a good person, but she is warped by her thirst for revenge. Luther, her sire, is evil and sadistic and turned her into an animal then set her loose on city that had been her home. (exemplifed in the first prologue).

The 2nd is where we see 'her'. It is a complicated concept and is absolutely explained more indepth in the book, but I'm glad you picked up on the 'less merciless vibe' since that was the tone I was aiming for

Wow...you are making my decision so very hard. I absolutely loved both prologues...but I think the first one is much more powerful. I suggest you use that one and then somehow incorporate the second one into the whole of your novel...if you do plan to continue this which I suggest you do!

Umm, I didn't notice anything wrong with this. The second one was slightly confusing since I didn't know who some of the people were, but I think I will understand with the more you pose of this.

I like how you made the vampires godlike creatures of the underworld. It made them seem so dark and ugly...and yet I bet they are beautiful right?? Also, how you made it so there is like a demon living inside of them...that was a totally unique concept. I liked it!

Please keep going with this!

Very good!

Gold star, I think!

I really liked the first one I thought it was very well wrote with a lot of well said vocabulary. I do have one problem with it that it might make it more enthralling. when I read it really sounded like Lamia was enjoying every moment of it. This is only My thought about it but try and make her struggle abite, and try to make there more gore in it. The best type of Vampire related works is if there's a bunch of blood in it.
(ie: all Blade movies, and all Underworld movies)

I really liked the second one. I could really feel her pain from the way you wrote it. It's mysterious and leaves the reader wondering. When read that it was about vampires, I was a little worried at first that it was going to be corny. But it's actually really good so far. It's really descriptive and has good word choices. I could barely find any errors. I'm curious about a few things though, can vampires hear each others thoughts? And was it animal blood that he fed her? I don't know if you've ever read Twilight but it sounds a little Stephenie Meyer-esque, yet still really original. Also, there are a couple of word choices that could be improved:

Sorsha2 wrote:
The soul, tainted by the Vamprioric demon within his core,

“I swear it on the love I bear for my children and husband whom I slew in savage bloodlust,

Instead of "vamprioric", I would use vampiric, just sounds better, you know?

And I think "slaughtered" would be a better word than "slew", because slew actually means an indeterminately great amount or number. So you just got your definitions confused there. But other than that, I think the second prologue is really good and I can't wait to read the second chapter.

Ashleylee, Vampireknight and Dreamworx - thank you all for your kind comments and suggestions.

Ashleylee - I really like your idea of using one and incorporating the other (I was leaning a bit in that direction already but its nice to have someone else confirm my sentiments). Also - you are the ONLY person thus far who seems to have picked up on the whole 'demon' within concept. I am glad you liked it. I thought it was very origional.

Vampireknight - I hear what you're saying about Lamia, but it was kind of the point. The first prologue I wanted everyone to see the monster, the second is where you see the woman. I wanted the two to contrast as much as possible in that element. And believe me, there will be plenty of gore. I have just written a scene that I think will make a few hairs stand on end and will hopefully post it soon for critiques.

Dreamworx - in answer to your question, yes they can - but only to a certain point. The mind has to be very open, overwhelmed by strong emotions too intense to really keep bottled in, or they want their thoughts to be heard for means of communication. Its a tricky skill and usually the younger generations have trouble mastering thier minds because its all so new. And yes, he did feed her animal blood.

Again, thank you all so very much for taking the time to read and review