Whisp(er)



Prologue: Scars of the Past



It was snowing that night.



Soft white flakes drifted from the dark sky. The cold night air was aglow from the heat behind him. The sky was a shimmer of orange and red as the snowfall met the burning complex behind him.



Trailing a red line of shuffling tracks and blood spattering he struggled to get as far away from the wreckage as he could. He couldn't look back, couldn't do anything but keep limping forward and hoping he'd find somewhere to go now. A single snow flake hit and melted on the cheek of the bundle he carried, soft wailing filling the night air as the infant started to cry.



"Shh, I got you. It'll be okay Derrick. Itll-" His leg gave in and he fell in the settling canopy of snow. He crawled back on his feet, holding the baby as close as he could as he struggled to breathe the choppy air. He looked down at Derrick falling back into a fitful sleep.



"It'll be okay."

this is, as far as flash fiction goes, on the whole a programming language (a C++ if you will)

it's not big enough yet to be anything else and I figure you'll grow bored of it eventually but it's decent for the words you've got here

no real huge mistakes here but it's painful obvious you are making pointed decisions to use imagery, but I can't help but wonder to what purpose that imagery is being put here

none of the imagery is BAD, it's just rather boring and trite and cliché, using some colors, some textures, several -ing adjectives and verbs to spice up the structure, which is probably the best part about this piece, you're very structurally competent good job! but seriously i hope that later into the story you relax with the imagery, we won't so many adjectives or specialized nouns to emphasize the story all the time

as for the plot: I really don't judge a story based on it because stories ran out of plot in the time of the greeks, it's all mix and match, but while I'm here let me just say

"OUR TRAGIC HERO IS CARRYING A BABY IN THE SNOW" is beating us over the head with worn-out very easy to recognize and not very good symbolism as to the hero really caring about stuff and being a good guy because what but a good guy would save a baby in the snow

the best thing you could do right now plot wise would have him fucking eat the baby in the next part because that would sure raise some questions as to who this now obviously a villain is.

there have I made enough words to rival yours?

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Bleedcomics Staff Writer/Editor, , and Keeper of the Jar Brain of Secret President. RIP Ku Ku Ku \(-^.^-)/ U Wuz A REAL N***A!!!!!!!
"We're quite aware of this. BR is no happy rainbow face man. He is simply our neighborhood best fucking poster." ~ Warbear
Puff Most Epic.

Yes, and thank you!

Now I agree, the character's motivation isnt clear at all, meant for it to be to make the reader instantly assume the guy in a positive light even though they have no idea what actually occurred. And my use of imagery is slightly pointless in in excess, I should tone it down if it doesnt have meaning.

Ill try and cool off with the overuse of ings and the like, kindve grown into trying to describe everything too pointedly, especially in the beginning of a story. I'll work on the plot though starting now.

Whisp(er)

Chapter One: Hysteria

The end of the cigarette glowed to life in the morning air between his fingers, dark eyes watching the sun rise in the horizon. The door behind him opened and he turned and smirked at the young man that took a step forward with a frown on his thin handsome face, sharp brown eyes glaring at the cigarette as he asked,

“I thought you were gonna quit.” Dan flicked what was left of the cigarette away and smiled back as he replied,

“I am. What are you doing up so early Derrick?” Derrick shrugged and hefted his black backpack on his shoulders as he walked away and said,

“I felt like walking to school today, catch you later Dad.” Danny watched him go idly, looking back to the blazing orange sun rising in the distance.

On top of a building Derrick looked down and smiled as the first beams of sunlight hit the city, catching white wisps rising off his shoulders in a brilliant glow. The people below moved about their daily lives, never looking up and seeing him as he moved from rooftop to rooftop. Standing tall on top of the Neo Industries tower he could see everything. Clinging to a support beam in the wind he pulled a camera from his jacket and snapped a few pictures of the city waking up.

The sound of squealing tires followed by a crash was so far away he hardly heard it. He looked down and saw people so small they could be insects all running from the wreck. He landed in a nearby alley in a hiss of smoke and emerged to see one car upside down, undercarriage aflame.

He beamed a smile and ran to the wreck through the panicking crowd. His backpack hit the ground as he bent and tired the door handle. Looking in he saw the driver in his fresh pressed suit unconscious, blood dribbling from his head into a pool on the roof.

His hand pressed against the window as another easily passed through, white and cloudy. It bent and opened the door as he pulled it open, unclipping the driver’s seatbelt and dragging him by his sleeves from the car. The other driver stumbled from his car to see Derrick grab his backpack and dash away.

The bell echoed through the white hallways of Londor High as Derrick fell into his seat. Next to him a girl with blonde curls and curious green eyes smiled down at him and asked,

“What, did you walk?” Derrick nodded and she laughed,

“You shoulda left earlier.” Derrick sighed and held his camera out and she snatched it away with glee, flipping through the pictures. Her voice was astounded as she mused,

“You need to show me how you get these Derrick. I mean look at these, did you take them this morning?” Derrick caught his breath and replied,

“Can’t tell you Zoe it’s a secret.” Zoe growled in response and both looked up as their teacher Mrs. Schwan stared down at them and wondered,

“Do either of you have your concepts for this months sculpt done yet? They’re due tomorrow you know.” Zoe pulled out her own sketches as Derrick smiled and held his out, Mrs. Schwan staring at the beige paper for a moment before asking,

“A tree? They’re supposed to be abstract.” Derrick shrugged and replied,

“I’m making a blue tree. That’s abstract.” She sighed and left without another word and Derrick snickered to himself as Zoe preened over her own drawings and wondered aloud,

“Don’t you care what grade you get? You could at least try to make some kind of Picasso abortion just to make her happy.” Derrick pulled his camera back out and went over the photos he’d taken while he answered casually,

“None of this really matters to me.”

“Yeah well we aren’t all superman.” Both looked up and smiled at Tom leaning over their table, giving both their concepts a lackadaisical stare. He looked up at Derrick and wondered,

“Why you all out of breath man?” Derrick rolled his dark brown eyes and replied,

“Had to run to make it on time.”

“You know you should leave early if you’re gonna walk.”