Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-30319843-20171115130805

Hello, I'm H950sm, and I am just a user who has just joined the wiki. I plan to write a new pasta, and here is the first manuscript. Please give me some criticism, honest criticism, so that I can improve this. THE STORY: Prologue

When I was about to walk out of the room, I heard a noise.

Mechanical growling.

I turned around, but there was nothing there other than the big black table, the PC on it, and the printer on a smaller table.

I shrugged it off, then turned back towards the door.

RRRRRRRRR.

Huh?

I turned around again. Everything seemed normal. I had clearly heard it this time. I was really sure that it had come from the printer. In fact, such a sound can only originate from a printer.

I walked up to it. It looked unattended, and the last person to touch it was Dad. The power cord was not connected to the plugpoint, as well. Another wire was connected to the CPU, and that one was used for the transfer of printing data between the printer and the CPU. It was already switched off, and inactive.

So where did the rumbling come from?

No, it couldn't be my imagination. Such assumptions were really dumb. If I had clearly heard the sound in my consciousness, and that too from this room itself, then how could it be so? It could've been the result of a simple malfunction, but like I said before, the printer was offline.

So I observed every part of the printer carefully. Eventually, it struck me after awhile that I was supposed to examine the internal components of the printer to resolve. But there were problems. If I misplaced the parts in such a way that it would actually vandalize it, Dad would be shouting at me upon finding out.

RRRRRRRRRR.

I jumped backwards in shock, falling on my bottom which slammed against the smooth granite tiles.

D-Did th-that ju-just work o-on its own?

I haltingly got up, and proceeded towards the printer.

RRRRRRRRRRR.

That took me by suprise like the previous time.

What was going on? How could this be possible? My mind was now completely denying all previous assumptions. My heart was racing. How could this be?

The printer growled again, this time, louder. Then it began to swallow a piece of paper from the paper feed. I watched the sheet of paper in horror as it went inside the printer. The printer was shrieking loudly. Once the paper was inside, I began to hear mechanical screams as if someone was being tortured inside.

Finally, the sheet was released into the paper output tray. There was text in the center and it looked so... awful. I could smell a faint odour around me. I picked the sheet up and tried to read it, but the appearance of the text had already horrified me.

Bold, bloody red text had been made. There was a single drop of ink that had not yet dried. It was printed in such a way that it looked like as if someone had written it.

Then the drop of ink drooled down to the tip of my thumb, and ceased there. The odour was stronger than before now. I didn't know where it was coming from, though.

Wait a second.

I lifted my hand to my nose and sniffed in the scent of the ink.

It smelled like blood. Real blood. And that too, from a printer.

I turned my eyes to the text, and read it.

"Ding... dong?"

DING DONG.

That was the sound of the doorbell. Precipitation began to tickle the side of my head. I could feel warmth within my chest. I was just home alone, and they had just left a few minutes ago.

Maybe it could be them. Suppose they forgot something.

But it was so sudden; it occured after I had read the text. So who was it?

Gradually, I made my way to the main door with a sick stomach. The sound of the ringing of the doorbell repeated every few seconds. I just stood in front of it, with no idea of what to do. The sound was repeated again, and then I realized that I had to do something.

Maybe, I could call the cops.

DING DONG.

But if it was them, and if I called the cops, it would be so bad.

DING DONG.

Or, I could call Mrs. Kruger.

DING DONG.

Or... I could... uh... um...

DING DONG.

That sound of the doorbell returned me to my consciousness. I saw the same birch door in front of me. The same one I always see.

Maybe I could just check who it was, then see what to do?

Now or never.

So I silently crept up to the door.

Then I stood on my toes.

After that I looked through the peephole.

Black. Pitch black. I saw nothing but pitch black through the peephole, because it was covered from the other side. Someone was covering it on purpose. So I was forced to open my mouth out of ignorance:

"Who is it?"

There was no change in the pitch black image, but then it was uncovered. I saw a man with a huge stitch across his cheeks. It even extended through his lips. He was bald, but it seemed that he had never grown hair, not even once.

Then he just smiled an eerie smile.

"I am the one who will bring forth your end, Sally."

​​(Chapter I begins after this.)

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​Note: It isn't really completed yet, but it will be completed by the time I get to do so. So just leave criticism for now. 