Young Writers Society

She crept up on her unsuspecting victim in silent stealth. Finally he was going to get what he deserved. The pistol felt heavy in her hands, as she remembered the trouble she'd had getting it. It would all be worth it soon though. The Colonel flinched slightly as he felt the cold metal barrel of the gun against his head.

'I wondered when you'd come for me,' he stated in her mother tongue. He showed no signs of fear and did not turn to face her. 'A pistol?' he continued, his tone mocking. 'Not your normal weapon of choice.'

'I did not come here for words!' she spat, digging the pistol further into his head and causing his light brown locks to ruffle. She could feel the power of it in her hands jolting through her like a bolt of lightening and shaking her bones. But still he remained collected. Not good enough. She thought. Before she shot she wanted him to demean himself. To beg at her feet. To squirm like the worm that he was and plead for his life. However he seemed too willing to cooperate with her at the moment.

'So I see,' he murmered calmly. 'Then what are you waiting for? Go on. Pull the trigger.' She smirked at his ignorance as she eyed the single bead of sweat trickle down his pale forehead. His fear was cleverly masked, but not well enough.

'Very well,' she hissed, her voice full of hatred. 'Any last words?'

'Not words as such,' he started, his tone lighter as if he found something amusing. 'but I wish to look upon the face of my murderer.' Reluctantly, she allowed him to turn around, her pistol glued to him at all times. For so long she had dreeamed of this glorious moment, her revenge. She pictured his body hitting the floor and scarlet blood leaking out of his head. She savoured the image.

As his gaze rested upon her face he disguised any signs of suprise he had left. His lifeless eyes stared into her own angry brown ones. Why did he not fear her? Why didn't he fight for his life? Her head drummed: Coward.

'Kneel,' she commanded. He obeyed, dropping to his knees holding his hands aloft. She gave another smirk at her newly found power. 'This,' she spat, pointing the gun straight at his forehead. 'Is for my brother!'

'For your brother?' he repeated coldly. 'Or for yourself?'

'Silence!' she said gritting her teeth. 'You are not even worthy to speak his name!' Her whole body shook with rage, her blood way past boiling point. Her brother was dead. This filthy rat before her was the reason why. His time in this world was limitted. He was going to die this evening if it killed her.

'Orders are orders,' he stated simply. That was his excuse? It was pathetic and not good enough for her.

'And revenge is revenge,' she replied cruelly. If only her brother could see her now - she had never imagined herself capable of such evil.

'Quite,' he muttered, giving a subtle nod of agreement. He looked up at her with a glare of detest. It was returned immediately. 'I have no regrets,' he said.

With an angry battlecry, the trigger was pulled.

A single gunshot sounded.

The deed was done.

happy-go-lucky wrote:She crept up on her unsuspecting victim in silent stealth. Finally Commahe was going to get what he deserved. The pistol felt heavy in her hands, as she remembered the trouble she'd had getting it. It would all be worth it soon though. The Colonel flinched slightly as he felt the cold metal barrel of the gun against his head.

'I wondered when you'd come for me,' he stated in her mother tongue. He showed no signs of fear and did not turn to face her. 'A pistol?' he continued, his tone mocking. 'Not your normal weapon of choice.'

'I did not come here for words!' she spat, digging the pistol further into his head and causing his light brown locks to ruffle. She could feel the power of it in her hands jolting through her like a bolt of lightening and shaking her bones. But still he remained collected. Not good enough. She thought. Before she [s]shot[/s]You use so many descriptions, why not use something else instead of 'shot'. maybe like, 'Before she wrapped her finger around the black shiny trigger' or something like that. Something that would prolonged and continue the intensity here. she wanted him to demean himself. To beg at her feet. To squirm like the worm that he was and plead for his life. HoweverComma he seemed too willing to cooperate with her at the moment.

'So I see,' he murmered calmly. 'Then what are you waiting for? Go on. Pull the trigger.' She smirked at his ignorance as she eyed the single bead of sweat trickle down his pale forehead.I'm confused here. I thought she was behind him? If not, then maybe you could throw in some of his facial expressions showing how he is attempting to hide his fear. His fear was cleverly masked, but not well enough.

'Very well,' she hissed, her voice full of hatred. 'Any last words?'cliche much?

'Not words as such,' he started, his tone lighter as if he found something amusing. 'but I wish to look upon the face of my murderer.' Reluctantly, she allowed him to turn around,Yeah, see, she wouldnt be able to see the 'bead of sweat' on his forhead from behind. Maybe you meant neck? her pistol glued to him at all times. For so long she had dreeameddreamed of this glorious moment, her revenge. She pictured his body hitting the floor and scarlet blood leaking out of his head.This isn't very dramatic (the head part) try rewording it. I know you can do better! She savoured the image.

As his gaze rested upon her face he disguised any signs of suprise he had left. His lifeless eyes stared into her own angry brown ones. Why did he not fear her? Why didn't he fight for his life? Her head drummed: Coward.

'Kneel,' she commanded. He obeyed, dropping to his knees holding his hands aloft. She gave another smirk at her newly found power. 'This,' she spat, pointing the gun straight at his forehead. 'Is for my brother!'

'For your brother?' he repeated coldly. 'Or for yourself?'

'Silence!' she said gritting her teeth. 'You are not even worthy to speak his name!' Umm, he didnt? Maybe you meant something else? Like he is not worthy to talk to her? Maybe? Maybe you can do something like, your as worthless as dirt. Or something like that. Her whole body shook with rage, her blood way past boiling point. Her brother was dead. This filthy rat before her was the reason why. His time in this world was limitted. He was going to die this evening if it killed her.

'Orders are orders,' he stated simply. That was his excuse? It was pathetic and not good enough for her.

'And revenge is revenge,' she replied cruelly. If only her brother could see her now - she had never imagined herself capable of such evil.

'Quite,' he muttered, giving a subtle nod of agreement. He looked up at her with a glare of detest. It was returned immediately. 'I have no regrets,' he said.

With an angry battlecry, the trigger was pulled.

A single gunshot sounded.

The deed was done.

Hunter: She kind of reminded me of that girl from Electra. The way the movie started what somewhat similar to the scene you set up here. If you've seen the movie then you know how strong the lead character was. It reminded me of your protaganist's lust for revenge against this scum here. Very nicely painted. She kind of has typical dialog here. Maybe you can work with that a little.

Hunted: I saw some guy sitting in a chair holding his brandy. Maybe the buisness guy type. I'm not sure. Not a lot of detail went into his character here. Just that he is scum...that's it. If that was what you were going for, nice! =)

Setting: Nothing was set up here. You didn't go into any detail at all of where they were. You left a lot to the readers imagination.

Plot: In the beginning, I almost thought she was going to die. Like he was going to turn around and plant a bullet in her chest. Obviously, I was completely wrong. But, again, very typical dialog.

Other rants: I loved loved loved! Your discriptions. Absolutly flawless!!! I can't get enough of it. Great job.

Where are you going with this? Is this it????
Hmm. Well, I hope I helped a little. =)


--Jazz

Hello! Stella here!

I. NITPICKS

The pistol felt heavy in her hands, as she remembered the trouble she'd had getting it.

Don't think there should be a comma there.

The Colonel flinched slightly as he felt the cold metal barrel of the gun against his head.

Maybe I'm weird, but I think this would be a new paragraph, for effect.

She could feel the power of it in her hands jolting through her like a bolt of lightening and shaking her bones.

I always used to make this mistake, and I still do eighty percent of the time. It's lightning.

Or maybe it's lightening in American. I don't know...

Before she shot she wanted him to demean himself.

Maybe: "Before she shot him"

'Silence!' she said gritting her teeth. 'You are not even worthy to speak his name!'

But... he didn't. Maybe "You're not even worthy to speak of him!" or something that makes more sense.

His time in this world was limitted.

One t in limited.

'And revenge is revenge,' she replied cruelly.

Oh, what a comeback! Seriously! Awesome!

Righty-ho.

II. WHERE ARE THEY?

I mean, is he just sitting or standing there doing nothing? I always thought he'd be, like, in the theatre (like what's-his-name Lincoln, right?) or something. Is he in his own study or where?

Description never, ever, ever hurts. Even his chair or something. Just give us a hint.

III. WHEN ARE THEY?

It's historical fiction, but I wasn't sure what time period you were representing.

IV. WHAT WEAPON DOES SHE NORMALLY USE?!

What I mean by that is that I sincerely hope there's another part. You leave too much unknown. Why did he kill her brother? Who ordered him to? What's her usual weapon of choice? That kind of thing. You've opened the doors and not shut them again.

V. OVERALL

There better be another piece. But overall, your characterisation was nicely done, something hard to do. It's the actual story I want to know more about . Good job. Totally gold-starred.

PM me if you have any questions!

-Stella.

This was really nice. However I have one question...

'I wondered when you'd come for me,' he stated in her mother tongue. He showed no signs of fear and did not turn to face her. 'A pistol?' he continued, his tone mocking. 'Not your normal weapon of choice.'

isn't supposed to be...

"I wondered when you'd come for me," he stated in her mother tongue. He showed no signs of fear and did not turn to face her. "A pistol?" he continued, his tone mocking. "Not your normal weapon of choice."

I think with dialogue is supposed to be with "..." and not '...'

I am not sure, it might be different in other countries. Well I have to say this was really cool! I wouldn't mind you adding more short stories, like how her brother died and such. ^_^

This was excellent! I think the other reviewers caught most of the mistakes, but I have a few questions. Actually, I think the other reviewers may have asked these questions too but... oh well.

First of all, where and when are they? I pictured them in an empty, modern room with white paint and the colonel sitting on a wooden chair in the center. But this was posted in the historical fiction forum so I suppose that the room can't be too modern. Maybe you wanted your readers to use their imaginations for the setting, but it might be beneficial to add some detail.

Second, why do you use 'apostrophes' instead of "quotes"? I've never seen that done before. It was a bit distracting.

Overall, well done!