Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-6034797-20150315000317

This is the first story that I actually put forth some major effort into, and want to present to people. Its a long one, and it isnt all completed yet, so where this ends is not the ending. Please, be as brutally honest as you can, I need the criticism. Thank you for reading.

6:30 AM, Friday.

The sun is barely up. The sharp glow only peeking through the exposed space of the window that the blind didn't cover. An ear piercing beeping began to erupt from a digital clock on a nightstand. The young man laying in bed lifted himself up as high as his arms would allow him to, and turned to face the clock. He slapped the top of the clock, stopping the beeping. The teen slid himself out of bed, and went through the motions of his morning routine.



6:50 AM, Friday.

The sun was up higher. The teen got his bag ready, and headed out for the bus stop. He stopped for a moment, as there was a note on the door.

“Dear Max,

Today, I'll be taking you to your mom's right after school. Tell your golf coach that you will have to skip practice today. Bring this note with you so that your coach knows that you aren't lying. Have a good day at school son. I love you.

Dad”

Max took the paper, folded it, and stuffed it in his pocket. He left the house with a feeling of dread in his stomach.



7:00 AM, Friday.

“I really wasn't looking to deal with my dad's fucking bullshit today,” Max sighed, “ I just know that he will try and start shit with me.”

“He still tries to make you feel like shit?” Max's friend, Jamie asked, “Why does he have to do that, its not right for anyone, let alone you, to have to deal with that kind of mental stress. Why does he even do this?”

“Its cause I'm a failure to him, and how I managed that, I'm not even sure about anymore” Max said, fighting back tears.

The bus pulled up to the school, and parked along the curb. Jamie pulls Max's head close to her shoulder, and began to rub his head in an attempt to sooth his nerves before they go into school. She whispers to Max that things will get better.



<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">12:40 PM, Friday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">It was 7th period, lunch. Max walks to his table slower then usual. When he gets there, everyone took notice that something was wrong.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“What's wrong, brah?” Chris began to interrogate Max, “Is it your dad, again?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Of course its his dad, Chris. You can always tell when its his dad that's causing issues,” Jamie gets upset at Chris, “I'm sorry that your dad has got you down, but you gotta keep your head up. You get to see your mom this weekend, right?” Max nods his head up and down, “So you at least got that.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The mood shifted drasticly at the lunch table. They all knew what was going to happen, the was no thinking it wouldn't.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">2:05 PM, Friday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Having been home for at least 10 minutes, Max got changed, grabbed some stuff, and put it in his dad's car. His dad was already in the car, starting it. Max, rather reluctantly, got into the passenger’s seat. The whole ride to his mom's, Max's father tried to strike conversations about how school was, how his day is going, so on and so forth. Then, Max's father brought up grades.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I see that you managed to somehow get a B on that quiz in history. How come son?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I mixed up two vocabulary words that are spelled almost the same, and meant almost the same thing.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max's father pulled the car to the side of the road. As cars passed by, no one payed any mind to what was going on in the car. Max's father unbelted himself, and turned to hit Max. One slap turned to four, and four to eight. One slap caught Max in the eye. When the slapping stopped, all that could be heard was the cars passing by, and the crying of Max.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I don't need any of your fucking excuses you fucking failure,” the Father said, “You should have gotten a hundred!”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max's father began to hit at Max again. Max tries to cry out to get someones attention, but it was no use, as no one would be able to see into the tainted windows, or hear the screams with how fast the cars would go along.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The rest of the ride was silent. Max's father didn't say anything. Max didn't dear use his phone for anything, he just looked out the window.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">3:15 PM, Friday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The car pulled up in front of Max's mother's home. Max quickly got out of the car, and grabbed his items from the back. As he walked up his mother's driveway, his father rolled down the window, and called out to Max.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Son, I love you. Have a good weekend.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max replies with a simple, “I will dad. I love you too.” Max continues his way up to his mother's sanctuary, slowly walking up the two sets of stairs in a mix of hesitation and anxiety. He knew his mother would try and call the CPS when she finds out what happened, and he knew that his father will lie his way out of the situation, as he has two times now.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">5:30 PM, Friday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“He hit you in the fucking car!?” Max's mom started getting really angry; she looked like she was on the verge of calling the cops. Mother began to charge towards the phone, with Max following behind, trying to stop her from actually calling anyone. Max began to cry out not for her to do anything, cause it wouldn't matter in the long run.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“The CPS won't do anything,” Max sobbed, “They will just say I'm trying to move back here. Please stop Mom, your just going to make things worse.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max fell to the floor, crying uncontrollably. He can't even speak coherent sentences anymore. His mother turns to him, and begins to cry herself.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I wish I never sent you to live with your father, Max. If I had known this would happen, I would have never had called your dad to have him take you. I'm so sorry.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">They cried like this on the floor, for what seemed like hours. They said no words, they didn't look at each other directly. They just sat there, in each others arms, and wept.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">11:40 PM, Friday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The whole house has been silent after the crying ended. Dinner was had, but no one spoke during. Even Max's sister, a 8 year old named Amber, knew something was wrong. It was pitch black outside by nine. Amber went to bed shortly after nine. Max and his Mom sat and watched a few movies. After the second movie, Max retired to his room.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">He didn't bother to turn on the light. He just climbed into the bed, and under the covers. He turns on TV, and begins to try and sleep.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">12:01 AM, Saturday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max was barely asleep, his eye was hurting too much. The TV timer had shut it down already. The room was filled with the emptiness of night. A siren was going off in the distance. His sister's fish tank filter was the only other noise he could hear. Then, he heard a faint noise.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">He rose slightly out of bed, trying to make sure he actually heard something. It came again.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">It sounded like someone was just tapping on a door. Max grabbed a little battery powered lantern, and got up to check where the noise was coming from. He checks his sister's room, nothing. He checks his mother's room, nothing.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The only place left to check was the front door. As he moved towards the front door, the shadows crept in sync with the shift of light coming from the lantern.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max reached out to the door knob, and twisted the little piece to unlock it. He then twisted the handle, and flung open the door. Nothing. No one was there. Nothing was there. It was just darkness. Max then stepped outside to make sure it wasn't just one on the neighborhood jerks who aren't asleep trying to play a trick on people who are still awake. No one was around at all. Max went back inside, relocked the door, and headed back to his room. When he got back to his room, the closet was wide open. The clothes were strewn across the floor. Max was horrified. He didn't know what the hell may have come out, but he knew that the room wouldn't be safe. He was afraid, not for himself, but for his mother and sister.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Who the fuck is in here?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max called out, holding back the urge to scream at who or what ever was in there. There was nothing. Just as he stepped forward to grab the door, he heard it again.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“This isn't fucking funny, who ever is in here. I'm about to call the cops.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Just as he said it, something rose. It was a tall, slanted figure. It was slightly wide, with fat arms, and long, thick legs. Its torso was bent in what looks to be about seventy degree angel. Its head looked like it was broken into a right angel. It opened its eyes. They glowed a deep, intense white. It reached one of its hands out, and placed it and the TV stand. It lifted a finger.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max knew what he had to do. He slammed the door shut. As the door opened out of the room, not in, he put a chair under the knob. The was some pushing against the door, but it cant get out. Max went straight to his sister's room, and took Amber to their mother's room. Max barricaded the door. He put his sister in the closet, and shut the door.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The tapping was distant, and muffled. Max never slept that night.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">9:58 AM, Saturday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“You must have just had a nightmare, sweetie. Now please get all this shit out from in front of my door.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max cleared the items from the door. His sister opened the closet door.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Why was I in the closet?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max turned, but his mother talked for him.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“You must have slept walked into there.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max didn't know what to do. All he could do was tell his friends. He needed to talk to someone about it.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">11:04 AM, Saturday

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Jamie, I need to talk to you about something.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“What do you need to talk to me about?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Yesterday, something weird happened. Something I can't truly explain.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Weird like how?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Well, I saw some... THING... in the room that I sleep in at my mom's.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Something? Are you sure it wasn't a nightmare?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“No, it wasn't a dream. This thing, it looked really tall. Its body was slanted, and twisted.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Wow. Uh, what did you do when you saw it?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I slammed the door shut, and put a chair under the knob. It must have charged at the door, cause as I backed away, It began slamming against the door.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Did you call the cops, or anything?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I can't. There is no way in hell they will believe me. There is only one thing I can do.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“What do you mean, “only one thing” you can do?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Against my better judgment, Im going to confront it tonight.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Max, don't. That a terrible plan. What if it is real, and it hurts you? Or worse...”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Or worse what?'

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“What if it kills you?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“...Well, I'm not sure what. All I know is that I have to face this thing.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Max, please don't. I don't think I could go on if something happens to you...”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I'll be fine.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Wait, why wouldn't you be able to go on if something happened to me?”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“...because I like you...a lot”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Jamie, I didn't know. How long have you felt this way?”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“A while. I didn't think that you would feel the same way back, though.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Oh god. This is too funny.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Wow, fucking asshole.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“No no, I'm not laughing about that. It's just that, I have felt the same way too. I just never knew if I should ever tell you.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Then you should have that instead of saying “Oh god this is too funny” you idiot!”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I'm sorry.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">…

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Jamie is offline.

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">12:30 PM, Saturday.

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Hey”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Hi”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I'm sorry about going offline earlier.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Its ok. I was being an asshole.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“No you weren't, I just forgot about your sense of humor.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Ok. Were you serious when you said you like me?”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Yes. I would never lie to you. Especially about my feelings.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Ok. I'm going to make a promise to you, ok?”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“What will that promise be?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I'm still going to meet that thing, and the promise is that I will not die, or get hurt. I will see you on Monday, and I will embrace you.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I like that promise.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I hoped so. I have to go, midnight will be here before I know it. I'll see you Monday.”

<p align="RIGHT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Ok. Don't break your promise.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I won't”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max is offline.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">11:59 PM, Saturday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max was anxious for the rest of the day. He rarely said anything. Hours past, as Max paced back and forth, anticipating the impending night. Sooner or later, his sister went to bed. What felt like three hours later, his mother went to her room. Max checked his phone. The bright LCD screen shined. 11:59 PM was above the unlock slider. Max knew it was time. He stepped into his room. It was clean, as if the events of last night never happened.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Maybe it was all just a dream, like mom said,” Max thought to himself, “But there is truly only one way to find out.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The alarm Max set on his phone went off. It startled him, the sudden vibration of the phone. He pulls out phone to turn it off.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">12:05 AM, Sunday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max sat in the middle of his bed. He kept his eyes wide open, though he couldn't see anything in the darkness that had amassed in the room. The silence was only broken by the rapid beating of Max's heart, and the fish tank filter. Just as he began to doubt himself...

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">His eyes began to dart around the room, checking to see if the figure was there. It wasn't, but the feeling of safety was no longer there.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max turned to the closet. It seemed to be the area where the sound was coming from. Slowly, he shifted himself out of bed, and moved towards the closet.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">His blood began to boil. He started to reach for the door knob to the closet. Suddenly, the door slammed open. The shock sent him back in a panic. Max sat up, and when he went to try and move, he found that he couldn't. He was frozen in fear from what he saw. The creature grasped the doorway with long, fat fingers. It stoke one of its thick, lengthy legs out, followed by the other. It ducked its crooked head and torso as it pulled itself out of the door way. It now stood tall over Max. It put one of its hand on the dresser next to where it stood, and rose its finger.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Tap tap tap.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">The creature began to shake violently, and with a sharp snap, it seemed to break its own neck to straighten it. It shook, and cracked, and twisted itself until it was completely straight. It shot both of its fat, disturbingly lengthy arms out at Max, and grasped him by the neck. It lifted him up, and pulled him closer. Max could hardly breath. The creature's disgusting texture squeezed tighter around Max's airway. It then opened its eyes, and stared at him. It loosed its grip, giving Max a chance to breath.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“What do you want from me? What are you!?” Max began to cry out in a mix of terror and sadness.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“We came to you, because you were suffering. We want to make a deal with you. We are the Slanted.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Why do you keep saying we, when its only you and I here.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“You are so foolish.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">As the creature says this, many blank, white eyes filled the room. Max, over come with fear, screams. The creature tightens its grip around Max's neck.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“SILENCE!! We will only tell you our offer once.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max, gasping for air, nods his head in agreement. The Slanted releases its grip on Max.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Here is our offer. We notice that your father is unclean. We pride ourselves in eating the sinful. You, yourself, are unclean, much the same as all men are. The difference between you and your father, though, is that you have proven to us that you have good in you, when you protected your sister and mother. Your father can not. We will leave you in a better position, and in return, we want your father.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max was torn. He could finally rid himself of his father, and live a normal life. If he went through though, he would lose the very man who brought him into this world. It was a painful choice to make.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">1:00 AM, Sunday.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Max decided.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I... I decided.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Oh? We want to know, will you take our offer?”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“I... I... Yes. You can take my father.”

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">Through the darkness, Max can tell that the creatures were smiling.

<p align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom:0in">“Very well. We shall do the deed tomorrow. <ac_metadata title="Pitch Dark Rooms (WIP)"> </ac_metadata>