Four Gods (PG-13)

Started by Ninva June 19th, 2009 1:02 PM
  • 1877 views
  • 2 replies
Age 30
Male
Wisconsin
Seen August 28th, 2009
Posted August 28th, 2009
3 posts
13.9 Years
This story is wonderful because it's so simplistic yet horrifically demonic. The tale begins at the main character's house and then progresses to a mental facility. Throughout the story, he tries to coop with the many gods that rule over the realm he lives; however, these gods do nothing for him. The almighty gods are two men who transfer the main character to a different place. Due to a misunderstanding, the men decide to neglect him. So, this is both a metaphor on cults and humanity. I hope you enjoy my short story "Four Gods" written during the winter of '07. This was published Dec. 27, 2007. This is one of many revisions. The original can be found in my gallery. Revised June 19, 2009. You may also find this story and much more on deviantART look up Mark Saline.

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Four Gods by Mark Saline

I awoke from my slumber. I thought nothing, and I saw nothing. I was in a void with objects, demons, and solid structures that held important emotion. These walls were gods to my domain for they kept me in this space. I became humbled and reached out for a long and cold object, which I promptly hid under. In the matter of seconds, the object hugged me; so I screamed violently as I fought the newly discovered demon away from me. Soon I was out in the center of the realm with the demons and objects and gods all around me. The shy demons that remained silent I called objects or gods. The demons that chirped, buzzed, rang, or moved by an inch were active demons ready to kill me.

I knelt down to my knees and prayed to the walls. No words came from my mouth only emotion and determination that these walls will protect me from the demons within my newly formed world. At that moment, the walls opened up to me.

There stood a new god who broke through the walls. He had a pale faced and his hair was blond. He wore white attire. With him stood another god that was also dressed in white, but he had not broken through the walls and opened them up for me. He was black skinned, not like the higher god; thus he was now the lower god that I respected with great emotion. And with great emotion came great song.

Suddenly the lower god grabbed me, and I cried for the higher god to save me. No sensible word came from mouth, only racial slurs. The lower god then struck me down. He was furious at my sudden fear, so I began bellowing prayers showing the lower god my apologies and sorrow with mumbled words.

A metal rod was rammed into my right arm, which was now pinned behind my back. There was a cry that escaped my bitter lips, and then my eyes closed. I rested for a few minutes until I awoke.

When I awoke a demon had bonded me. He had a hold of my arms and wrapped them around my my body, and I was my body. As I looked around myself I saw the gods I’ve seen from before. They were the lower gods, the walls. I worshiped them with a groan. I was telling them I was weary from a strange sensation in my stomach, but I was now happy for they have returned to protect me. I knew no harm could fall upon me now.

At my resting place I was contempt, and no demons came near me. I fell a sleep and continue to glorify the walls for many days until I stopped praying and worshiping the walls. For some strange reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it for the pressure in my stomach had become violent and my body became stiff.

I then made every attempt to remain happy, so I didn’t talk and I slept for most of my days even when my mouth was dry and the sting in my stomach continued to climb to a point of unbearable pain.

The pain drove me into the depths of desperation. I began to gnaw upon anything I could find. First I tried the demon, but it was no good. So I requested a taste of one of the walls. As I proceeded to chew the walls, they stiffened and my jaws couldn't bite through the fortified walls.

Finally, I was furious at my gods. I swore at them and made an emotional outburst by violently dashing into the gods. They did not crumble, but nor did I for three hours straight. When I did fall, blood had splattered upon the hugging demon that bonded my arms. I panted as I fell, and cried with all my energy. Yet no tears came; only blood came. It came and came until it stopped, and then I stopped.

Esper

California
Seen June 30th, 2018
Posted June 30th, 2018
Warning: massive proofreading/commentary ahead, mostly to do with style and grammar and that sort of thing, but with a general response to the story at the end.

If you do not want to see a lot of "red ink" on your story then skip the proofreading part, although I encourage you to read it anyway because you can always 1) ignore me, 2) curse me to the end of your days, or 3) find something useful out of it to make your story better in some way.

All my comments are in bold.

Spoiler:
I awoke from my slumber. I thought nothing, and I saw nothing. (These first three sentences begin with "I." Too much repetition can make it sound more like a list, less like a story.) I was in a void with objects, (What objects? Describe them.) demons, and solid structures that held important emotion. These walls were gods to my domain (of my domain?) for they kept me in this space. (Maybe a stronger word here, like dungeon, would give a better sense of being imprisoned.) I became humbled (Try describing the feeling of being humbled instead of just telling the reader.) and reached out for a long and cold object, which I promptly hid underneath. (The way you describe the object before the character has even touched it makes me think that he was looking for something long and cold rather than happening to find one) In the matter of seconds, the object grabbed me; so I screamed violently (Screams are usually violent, it's like saying 'wet water') as I fought the newly discovered ("newly discovered" doesn't give me a good image of what this demon is) demon away from me. Soon I was out in the center of the realm (is this the void from earlier?) with the demons and objects and gods all around me. The shy demons (don't call them shy yet, not until you've shown them to be shy in some way-) that remained silent (-anytime after here is okay) I called objects or gods. The demons that chirped, buzzed, rang, or moved by an inch ("moved by an inch" doesn't seem frightening or threatening. Use some other words like 'crept forward' or 'loomed toward') were active demons ready to kill me.

I knelt down to my knees (cut out "to my knees" - kneeling is always done on one's knees) and prayed to the walls. No words came from my mouth only emotion (show me how emotion comes out when words don't) and determination (the same for determination) that these walls will protect me from the demons within my newly formed world (I'm not sure I understand why your character thinks he created this world). At that moment, the walls opened up to me.

There stood a new god who broke through the walls. (Give a whole separate sentence showing the reader the breaking through the walls. It's action - don't limit it to a simple description of the god.) He had a pale faced face* and his hair was blond. (I want some more godly verbs and descriptions to give me a better picture of this god.) He wore white attire. (What kind? Armor? Robes? Jeans and a t-shirt?) With him stood another god that who* was also dressed in white, but he had not broken through the walls and opened them up for me (Cut "and opened them up for me" - you already used that phrase and it's already established that's what breaking though the wall does). He was black skinned, not like the higher god; (Why is he higher?) thus he was now the lower god that I respected (Why?) with great emotion. (Again, show the emotions, or at least tell which emotions) And with great emotion came great song.

Suddenly the lower god grabbed me, and I cried for the higher god to save me. No sensible word came from mouth, (You already used this phrase, try another.) only racial slurs. (Not sure why this needs to be here. I feel I'd understand more if I had a better picture of your main character.) The lower god then struck me down. (Maybe you should go back a few sentences and mention the character standing/sitting up so that he can be struck down.) He was furious (Show him being furious: make him snarl or yell or have his eyes narrow.) at my sudden fear, (Nothing made me feel the character was afraid so I don't understand this part.) so I began bellowing prayers showing the lower god my apologies and sorrow with mumbled words. (Can't bellow and mumble at the same time.)

A metal rod was rammed into my right arm, (Switch this out of passive voice. "Somebody/something rammed a metal rod into my right arm") which was now pinned behind my back. There was (Cut "there was") a cry that escaped my bitter lips, and then (You don't need "and" and "then" here. Either one by itself works.) my eyes closed. I rested for a few minutes until I awoke. ("Awoke" implies waking from sleep, not so much getting up from resting... unless you're trying to imply that everything up to this point was a dream.)

When I awoke a demon had bonded to me. He had a hold of my arms and wrapped them around my my body, and I was (in?) my body. (I'm confused. What was he before he was his body?) As I looked around myself ("myself" isn't necessary here) I saw the gods I’ve seen from before (the gods I'd seen before). They were the lower gods, the walls. (I getting lost at this point) I worshiped (Worship is a "telling" word that explains what someone does, but doesn't always give a good idea how they do it) them with a groan. I was telling them I was weary from a strange sensation in my stomach, but I was now happy for they have returned to protect me. (Perhaps a little dialogue would be in order: "I am weary from a strange sensation in my stomach," I said. "But I am now happy for you have returned to protect me.") I knew no harm could fall upon (befall? come to?) me now.

At my resting place I was contempt (content?), and no demons came near me. I fell a sleep asleep* and continued to glorify the walls for many days until (cut starting here: I stopped praying and worshiping the walls. For some strange reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it for until here) the pressure in my stomach had become violent and my body became stiff.

I then made every attempt to remain happy, (Why is he now concerned with being happy?) so I didn’t talk and I slept for most of my days most days* even when my mouth was dry and the sting in my stomach continued to climb to a point of unbearable pain.

The pain drove me into the depths of desperation. I began to gnaw upon anything I could find. First I tried the demon, but it was no good (No good in what way? Inedible?). So I requested (To whom does he make this request?) a taste of one of the walls. (I thought the walls were gods...) As I proceeded to chew the walls, they stiffened and my jaws couldn't bite through the fortified walls. (Cut the first "the walls" so as not to repeat your wording in the same sentence.)

Finally, I was furious at my gods. I swore at them and made an emotional outburst (Cut "made an emotional outburst" - dashing into walls is obviously such an outburst so there's no need to further describe it as such.) by violently dashing into the gods. They did not crumble, but (Cut "but") nor did I for three hours straight (and "straight"). When I did fall, blood had splattered upon the hugging demon ("hugging" is too cute a word) that bonded bound* my arms. I panted as I fell, and cried with all my energy. (all my might? strength?) Yet no tears came; only blood came. It came and came (use some more variety here... poured, gushed, etc.) until it stopped, and then I stopped.


And the response

Spoiler:
All in all, it's an okay story. A bit short, a bit angsty. The style and first person perspective gives it a kind of dreamy feeling in the way you tell someone about a dream you've had. ("I was in a room and there were these walls then a demon was wrapped around me and suddenly I wasn't wearing any pants.") I actually skipped your opening comments until after I'd read through so they wouldn't color my reading. Insanity and dreams are pretty much the same thing anyway, amiright?

I didn't get a great feeling for the protagonist beyond a general sympathy for him (I assume it is a 'him') and his struggle with his faith/imprisonment, having never had much of a crisis of faith myself. And that's too bad. I like a good creepy story and I can tell this is meant to be something like a quick and spooky ghost story so there isn't much room for character development and all that, but a bit wouldn't hurt. Even something as little as giving him a name would let me enjoy it more.

I give it a 5/10 (room for improvement?). Keep at it. I'd like to see you go through it again and what changes you'd make.
Age 30
Male
Wisconsin
Seen August 28th, 2009
Posted August 28th, 2009
3 posts
13.9 Years
I think you're missing the point. All of that was intended. You've made good points for a traditional story, but I'm not in a college class room trying to write a basic story. This is art. Try reading it again in a less critical manner. You'll understand more.

Thank you for reading anyways. I liked your criticism. It shows me you were thinking.

Bound was a mistake though.