So I was contemplating the mysteries of life (eating potato chips) when I suddenly had this great plot for a book. A rolled it around in my mind for a while and when I was finally satisfied with the outcome I jumped on my computer and started typing it up on Google Docs. I only got the prolouge done, and Iām not sure about the title of the story yet, or even the names. But I thought I should post it on here and get some helpful advice? Yeah anyway here it is! (Do tell me if I jacked up grammar of spelling please)
Chicago, November 9, 1994
The manās watery eyes slid along the distant blur of the coastline. He had been idly standing on the rickety and unstable overpass for hours now, every now and then letting out fits of coughs that would violently shake his lengthy frame. Despite this, the man reached into his coat pocket and fished out a package of cigars, flipping the top and placing one between his teeth. Just as he was reaching up to set the cigar ablaze, there was an abrupt clang to his right.
There was an unearthly silence, so eerie that the flickering of the small orange flame contained in the lighter could be heard twenty feet away. The man didnāt move a muscle. Thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to control the wild beating of his heart beneath his coat. But how could he? This was an unexpected turn of events for him, and he knew that this was going to end badly, no matter what he did.
He could turn his head and face it, oh how easy it would be to just barely move his neck, but this was rather frightening within itself. Facing it was not something that he, or anyone that even had knowledge of what it was, could simply do. But what choice did he have? He could run, but his chances of escape were slim, at best. He was no longer as fast and agile as he was ten years ago, nor was he capable of fighting the thing next to him, which was probably getting impatient. Making his choice, the man squeezed his aquamarine eyes shut, slowly pivoting on his foot to the right. Either way, it was inevitable. There was no escape. Opening his eyes, the man stared it straight in the eye, knowing full well that he was about to die. And he did.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Police sirens wailed through the frigid November air, quickly gathering a crowd of people to the scene. Officer Jones squirmed his way through the thickening crowd, exchanged quick words with Officer David and Barley, and ducked under the yellow police tape. The bright color stood starkly against the gray and woeful color of the day, and the scene itself, Jones had to admit, was woeful itself. āUgh, what happened here?ā Officer Jones asked, crouching next to Dr. Brenda, who was gingerly taking samples from the victim. āLooks to me like his throat was torn outā¦ā Jones groaned, rubbing his temples with his thumb and fore finger. āAnother one? Thatās the third this week! Man, this guy is sick,ā he murmured, gaining a rather sick feeling to his stomach.
Dr. Brenda nodded, carefully dropping the now red qutip into the small bag before sealing it closed. She stood, staring down at the gruesome scene. āWe need to find them before anyone else gets hurt,ā she said, turning to look questioningly at Officer Jones. He shook his head, running a hand through his dull red hair. āWeāre trying, but there is never any physical evidence to point towards a suspect. In fact, thereās never evidence at all. Why do you think the media is calling this the āGhost Caseā?ā
Dr. Brenda bent at the knees, narrowing her gaze before slowly reaching into the victimās coat pocket. From there she pulled out a wallet. Dr. Brenda opened it as she stood, allowing Officer Jones to peek over her shoulder at its contents. It was rather bare, no pictures or decorations, not even money. But inside was a drivers licence, long expired. The thing was badly faded, but the name was simple enough to read: āGabriel Northsonā.
So how was it? I know this is rough and could probably use some touch ups but constructive criticism is always helpful :)Ā