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The Raven

My new story in progress!

5 posts in this topic

Hello everyone! I don't know if any of you knew or not, I am very interested in writing and plan on getting into enough for a career. I enjoy writing stories, and I am working on one now called "Lord of the Ravens", which takes place in an chaotic New York after wars and destruction. The first chapter (Still working on, not in paragraph form as of yet and more) is coming along fairly well. I will post it herefor your reading. PLEASE feel free to post comments, I would REALLY enjoy them. (Note: I am only in 8th grade)

Lord of the Ravens ---- The Manhatten Chronicles

Chapter I:

The Awakening

Redemption. The thought was the only thing that was flowing through the mind of a young man, James as he walked down the dark alley ways to his apartment. It had been 5 days since that faithful night, 5 days since the most precious thing in the world to him was taken away, 5 days in hell. His pace quickend and he could see his apartment from here, atop the old Ironram insurance company building. Its bricks were cracked, its windows broken. It was a horrible place to live, but it was home, a home littered with pests and grime.

Gloria was at the door waiting as James, head low on his lanky 6'3 body trotted towards the door. "Hallo James. Took you long enough to get home. What we having for suppa'" He would not respond. James had a hostile expression as he looked up towards Gloria, the only friendly face left in his pitiful life. Gloria backed up out of the way as James kicked open the door and walked past Gloria like she was non-existant. She was suspicious, when James had stolen something, James was angry. Angry as a child denied of chocolate, angry as a thousand raging bulls. It was best to leave him alone and go about your lives until the man cooled. He stomped up the dark unlit stairway, boards cracking under his feat until the top was reached. Breathing heavily, he made it to the 30th floor. It's hall was lit with nothing more then several gas lamps on the walls, giving the room a very eerie felling to it. The end of the hall was an open window, that looked upon the broken road, and what was left of New York City. The war had gone on for 10 years before New York fell. The Soviet Allied Federation, or SAF had a frim grip over Manhatten, but this was the Bronx, SAF troops dare not enter these charred grounds. The Soviet Allied Federation was lead by Russian leader Vlad Kosravich, a dictator and fanatic. He formed an alliance with over 20 other fanacitcal countries around the world in 2020, 15 years ago, and started a federation. The SAF had a massive army, and had conquered large parts of the eastern world. They had their sights on The United States, and New York was first to be attacked. New York held out very well, but other cities crumbled. Over half of the United States was under SAF rule, and the remaining states that were United were in anarchy. Those states, which including Washington D.C had formed an alliance with eachother, and started creating the largest army possible, they wanted to reclaim the Western territories. The new states were called The Brotherhood, and was led by former United States president, Ken Thomas. The states still flew the United States flag, with a common goal to retake the lands and make us all united once more. Most of the land was calm, but in the evergrowing darkness of New York City, it was perfect for strange happenings because there be dark things here, lurking around the city at night, which lasted forever with the toxic, and hellish clouds overhead. Dark things that were not talked about, nor studied. No one wanted to mess with these things, they had clans in the sewers and high rises. They kidnapped SAF troops on the midnight hour, and brought them back hours later, mutiliated and disembowed. The darkness over the city let the dark ones stay out all the time, and harass the city.

As James got closer to the end of the hall, a raven flew close and perched on the sill, cawing at the already p***ed off James. "Rid me of your presence mangey bird, before I do it myself" The raven simply cawed again and curiously looked at James. He noticed something about its call that he had never noticed before. He was losing his mind thinking about Sam, his love, his light, and his soul mate. His mind was wasting away in this aybss, and he was sure it would lead to his demise. The raven cawed again, and this time he knew what it said. He didn't want to hear what it said though, and went into his apartment slamming the door behind him. He turned on a few lanterns that lit his small apartment. It wasn't much more then a room with a table, bed, chairs, few broken electronics, and James's chest. He pulled out the bread and cheese he had stolen from a store nearby and laid it on the table. It wasn't nice letting Gloria go hungry, but he was in a bad mood. Two large arched windows lit the front of the room, and James saw the raven on the outside sill staring blankly into the room. He hated the sight of this creature and what he heard it saw in its high pictched calls, so he cursed and put blankets over the windows. He sat down on the broken old wooden chair at his table of equal demise, and nibbled on it. Small amounts of mold grew on the hard bread, but it was much better then almost everything in his fridge. Upon finishing his food he opened the fridge and popped open a can of old beer. Froth came out the top and he knew he would be feeling better soon. After slurping up another beer he passed out on his dirty and torn sofa, and into a instant deep sleep that he needed so bad. Dreams came that hour, dreams that would change his thinking down the road. He did not know it yet, but these dreams would lead to something. He dreamt of Sam, of the raven, of the dark things, and of life itself. He saw the battered Manhatten, the crumbling buildings, and the mighty Empire State Building above the darkness waving a SAF flag, tattered but flapping in the wind. He saw more, what was left of the Statue of Liberty, high rises, and Hudson Bay. It had been a long time since he had left his place in the Bronx, but any man who dared to enter Manhatten would be thrown into a SAF labor camp, or forced into the SAF WW3 preperation force, set to start WW3. There was a raven in his dream again, it was on his chest and he saw it like he was awake, but then it started pecking at his chest and he knew he must be awake. "How did you get in here you little runt" The raven simply kept on cawing and pecking, like it was trying to talk to him again, and he started to hear what it was saying. "Sam...revenge...darkness...Soviets...Brotherhood...death..." It was saying all the things he hated to hear. Was he going even more insane in this dark hour? How could a little mangey raven be talking to him, it was just an ugly, oily bird. He had enough, and got up throwing the bird aside. It perched on top of his fridge, and soon after a beer bottle smashed beside it. "GET OUT" The bird wouldn't listen, it just sat there curiously. James was getting angry again, and opened his chest. He had many things in his chest, precious things, weapons, clothes, almost all his belongings. Rummaging through it, he came across his dagger in its decorated sheath. Pulling it slowly out of the sheath, and aiming, it missed the raven and got stuck in the plastic of his fridge. "Dammit." Why should he have to kill this bird anyway, and what was it doing in his house? The raven cawed again and started looking at his chest curiously. "What now, you want to steal my stuff!" But it did not, and James started rummaging through it enstinctively. He came across a folder with various doodles across its cover, when he opened it folded peices of paper fell out. They were love letters from Sam, that she had written when they had first started to know eachother. A final object in the folder fell out, it was a picture of Sam and him. This was unberable, and tears from his eyes onto the picture. There was a caw, and the raven was there. "GET AWAY" He was screaming now, he could not stop. His rage was far to great, but the caws did not end. "I SAID GET AWAY" His arms were flailing at the cawing bird that simply perched on different things in his room. He was on his knees again, whispering her name, saying her name, screaming her name with everything in him. Weeping, he managed to mutter. "Why did those b******* have to touch her, hurt her, kill her? Why...those goddamn SAF b*******...yes...b*******. Why don't I just go out and rip the little..." The black bird cawed, and it was driving him crazy, but he knew what it meant. Maybe he was meant to kill them, maybe he found find some truth in this, maybe the raven was there for a reason. "I am sorry little bird, sorry for trying to hurt you...I see what I must do, or think I do" Murder would bring him nothing but a title of madman in this dark age, police were non existant, and the law was banished. Anarchy was the only law here, and it could surely be seen. His chest was left open, and he put her picture in his pocket. Thrashing through the junk, he came to what he was looking for. The items passed down to him from his beloved father who died fighting against the SAF troops. He died in honor, died with the sword and guns James had his eyes on in his hands, died fighting for liberty like the fathers before him. Out came the guns, beautifully crafted and the name of his father on the barrell. Guns had advanced greatly in the recent years, and his father had top of the line. Infared scope, 13 inch long barrells, 60 callibur rounds, all molded in a steel with the color of aged pewter. These weapons were beautiful. On his belt they now hung, in the holsters of his father. Next came the allmighty sword used so long ago. Although aged, it still had a purpose. Nothing fit its ablilty to enflict all the hate of the bearer, enflict more than the simple gun could. Its decorated hilt felt cold in his hands, and he rose it, admiring the blade of almost 40 inches. Light shimmered from it, and the raven cawed as it saw this weapon. "Yes, I know, beautiful isn't she?" He was talking to a raven, he surely must be mad. He put it away in the scabbard on his back, and investigated the contents under it. These were his fathers clothes. His father was not a legal soldier, he stalked the SAF in the darkness, wearing the blackest of clothes, and knowing the tricks of the trade. These were what James would wear, they would have to suffice and help him release his rage, and avenge his love and father, and whatever else called to him. He tied the laces of the black boots, zipped up the black jeans, the black t-shirt, and slid into the trench coat made of the finest leather. He felt powerful now, his fathers clothes and items upon him, and the things he planned to do to these b******* running through his mind was almost sick. His growing fantasy was cut off as there was a knock on the door. The raven swooped down and perched on James's shoulder. It was Gloria at the door. "Well hallo James..." Her irish accent never ceased to please him, but her tone changed as she saw what he was wearing. "James! What are you wearing, why do you have weapons, and what is that pesky bird doing in here!" She tried to shoo it, but he stopped her with a firm grip on his arm. "I am out to do what I should have done a long time ago, to avenge the ones I love, and bring them justice." Gloria laughed, and spoke up. "Don't be silly, stop playing games, take that stuff off, and come down to my place for some hot tea." "THIS IS NOT A ****ing GAME. They shall pay for what was done, and I will be the one to make them." Her eyes were full of fear, but she stepped aside for James. He took off a precious pentagram necklace he had, and put it in her open palm. "Keep this safe for me, I will be back for it --- eventually." Inside though, he didn't know if he was coming back, or if he wanted too. Maybe he would be killed off like a helpless lamb before he could anything he hoped too, or maybe he would become heroic and 'save the day'. Whatever was to happen to James, good or bad, could not be stopped. The only power he had against it was hope and the will to achieve.

Please comment on my first-draft work.

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So sorry! (Moderator, can you please move this topic to Writer's and Artist's Hangout!, Thanks! I hope this won't happen again) huh.gif

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Topic moved. original.gif

Quite an interesting start.

I don't mean to be pedantic but when you say

It had been 5 days since that faithful night...

Do you mean '5 days sice that fateful night'?

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The only thing I might change, would be the title. Sorry, but we have enough Lord of the ______s for now.

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The only thing I might change, would be the title. Sorry, but we have enough Lord of the ______s for now.

Thanks for your feedbacks! Yes, I probably meant fateful, I still need to work on my grammar. The creative writing courses I am taking throughout High School should help, as with Latin.

I think I might change the title, but it is rather fitting, since later on he will be able do to stuff with the birds. Does anyone have any idea of a good title? I want something powerful, but maybe dark. Any Ideas?

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