Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27975944-20160314092256

I've edited this a bit from what it originally was, but I'd still like some critique on what I could further do to better it.



The Account Of Christopher Viens

I live a normal life in a normal place; or, well, so I thought. My story starts in my hometown of Mute Lake. It’s a nice place, theoretically speaking, if you can get past the black as coal nights and the fog so thick you can’t see 2 feet in front of your car windshield. Rumour had it that the fog was caused by the warm and cold air currents always colliding right where Mute Lake was. Cliche horror location town, I know, but it's where I’ve called my home for the 23 years I’ve been alive. My name’s Chris; Chris Viens. I was your normal average nobody. I played running back in my high school days and was pretty proud to never have a grade lower than a B. My life was pretty nice, even if I was stuck working a dead end job due to my family not having the money to get me into college, even with the scholarships. Sad, right? I was never too great with women, either. I may have been on the football team, but I’ve only had one girlfriend my entire life, and only for a few months. Still though, I enjoyed my life in my quiet town I was proud to call my home. As I said, I was a nobody, and as such my life was pretty dull, that is, until I decided to tune into the news one night before climbing into bed and resetting the endless cycle of sleep, eat, work, repeat. The news went on as usual, the weather caster calling for dense fog and rain showers throughout the week. The main anchor came on after, his normally charismatic self proud to be on air, however, he had some news tonight that I wasn’t expecting. He came on with his flamboyant:

“Hello, and welcome to the late night Mute Lake news, my name is David Jahoy!”

Followed by:

“Tonight we have a breaking story; a young man, age 21; Andrew Ortiz has been reported missing. He is described as tall with olive skin and green eyes. Local authorities urge anyone with information on Mr. Ortiz’s whereabouts to contact them immediately.”

By now I was interested; nothing exciting ever happens in Mute Lake. Mulling over the excitement, I decided it was late enough and hopped in bed. My boss would give me hell if I was late, even by a minute.

The next couple of months for me were just as dull as my previous life. The same vicious cycle repeated itself: Sleep, eat, work, repeat. It was as if I was some sort of robot living out my life without worth. On top of that, another string of missing person reports were issued. They became pretty regular to the extent that even they lost their spark. Nobody had any information on where the people disappeared to, nor did they seem to particularly care. They were reported in the news and promptly forgotten about the next morning. Another vicious cycle in our everyday lives. I decided that on my break today, I’d take a walk around the park; I didn’t feel like eating lunch and spending my free time at the place I dreaded to be every day was out of the question. The park was nearby and I had an hour to screw off, so why not? On my walk, I began to notice something in the periphery of my vision every now and again. I didn’t pay much attention, though, I already had enough stress on my back as it was. I saw it every time I rounded the corner of the back end of the park grounds. It didn’t seem to move much, but I think it was watching me. It was dressed in dark clothing; probably to help it blend in, and had some sort of white mask. I continued brushing it off. If you know Mute Lake, then you know that the people that live here can do some pretty weird things. Something by definition to be disturbing to others was pretty normal here. For example, my boss openly attacks his workers when they do something wrong or arrive at work late. To the normal world, it’s a heinous and punishable act. To the outdated people of Mute Lake, it’s a normal reminder to not mess up. On my last walk around, I caught him again, and decided to get a better look. I turned my head and faced the direction the figure had been watching me in. I saw nothing. The figure, which had been clearly watching me moments ago, was gone. I shook my head. Probably on of the neighbor kids trying to spook me again. I headed back to work a bit early so my idiot of a boss didn’t have an excuse to punch me. That night there was nothing worthy of watching on the news. No missing person report, no traffic collision, no fires; nothing. Just the normal anchor and his usual charismatic charm. I shuffled off to bed to once again continue the cycle.

Sleepwalking. The act of getting up and walking around while asleep, a sleep disorder belonging to the parasomnia family. It used to happen to me as a child. I’d get up after being in bed a few hours and roam around. I’d usually wake up in another room, asleep in a chair. This was not one of those nights. Instead, I woke up bound and gagged, tied to a chair in the darkness. I didn’t know how I got there and at first, didn’t know if I was even awake at all. After struggling to the point of giving myself a rash, I realized this was reality and not a dreamscape my mind had made up. My heart began beating faster as I gazed into the unknown. As my eyes began to adjust to the blinding dark, I could notice that where I’d been tied up was fairly cramped. Three stone walls crowded me, followed by a stone staircase in front. The metal door atop opened slowly and a figure clad in black walked down each step with careful ease. It was the same figure that had been watching me prior to my return to work only a day before. He held a knife in his hand, the shimmering silver blade cutting through the blackness. I didn’t know why he had me here, but I assumed the worst, as anyone in the situation would. He came close to me and turned on a small flashlight which blinded me once again. His mask was a white clay and had black markings on it that seemed to have no direct meaning. My breathing was intense and it was clear he sensed my fear. He chuckled slightly and put the knife against my throat. I pushed away from him the best I could while being restrained; fear pulsing through me like a tidal wave. For once, something was happening in Mute Lake, and for once, I didn’t want to be a part of it. I tried to scream, but the gag muffled my pleas. He hit me hard with the dull side of the knife, muttering

“Shut up, runt. I’m not gonna hurt ya yet. I still gotta see what Number Two wants to do with ya first.”

He had a deep voice and a clear southern accent, reminiscent of my many job-related trips to Kentucky and Alabama. He dwarfed me in size by at least 2 feet and held the knife threateningly close to me. Too close for my own comfort, but that was probably the last thing on his mind.

“I’ll be back real shortly, ya dirty sheep.”

He said it with an ominous hatred in his voice before leaving and closing me upon the blinding darkness once more. I began to think of the possibilities of my fate. He was definitely going to kill me once he got back. I started to struggle again, causing my wrists to chafe heavily and bleed profusely from the burns the ropes gave me. I was tied on tight; no chance to escape.

As the cycle of fate would have it, I noticed one of the ropes once my vision returned. It was loose. Loose enough to possibly slide my arm out of. The big idiot didn’t do a good enough job of tying it; my struggling caused it to loosen! I carefully slid my left arm out of the rope. I began untying the knot below the right arm of the chair. Due to me being nearly blinded in the dark and the heavy sense of dread pulsing through my brain, I could hear them above me, talking of what was to become of the average nobody. I heard a voice I didn’t recognise say:

“So you think he’s useless? Fine. Kill him then, he’s just another of the tainted.”

I panicked, pulling the rope from my other arm and yanking the gag from my mouth. I pulled myself close to the wall beside the staircase. My heart pounded as the door opened and the flashlight came on. I took a deep shuddery breath and clasped my hands together in a double axe handle and waited. He casually strolled down the steps, not even noticing I was gone. He was taunting a person that wasn’t even there, what arrogance. Before he even realized what was happening, I bashed him over the head the moment he fully made his way down. A scream of pure anger came from him and I clambered over him, reaching for the knife he still held tightly. I grabbed his wrist and closed my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth in our struggle. After a moment, I heard a sharp noise similar to the way characters in old cartoons do when they unsheathe a sword and a hacking cough. I slowly opened my eyes to see a puddle of blood arising from the man. I had managed to jar the knife deep within his abdomen. With the flowing adrenaline and hatred toward him within me, I pulled the knife from him and stabbed him again. Again. Again. Again. I kept stabbing him long after he was already dead. I fell backward onto the bloody concrete; breathing a ragged breath. I had just killed a man. I took a moment for it to settle in. I finally stood up again, the knife still in hand, and began walking up the steps. Whatever sick freak was behind this, I finally had some sort of advantage against him. I exited the cellar into a large metal shed of sorts. Another, slightly shorter, figure was there to greet me. In his medium toned voice he quietly told me:

“Good work, my brother. You have executed the executioner. Perhaps you aren’t as blind and tainted as once thought.”

I still have no idea why I didn’t stab him when I had the chance, but something possessed me to question him and his motives. I asked him what the hell all of this was about and wished I’d never gotten my answer.

“This is about our corrupt world, child. It’s full of nothing but dirty sheep. We are the ones chosen to cleanse it. There are none who can stop us or our mission. You, however, have proven to be the strong. It has been some time since one of our own has been killed, and even longer since it was at the hands of a sheep. Now is your time to prove that you are not the taint we set out to cleanse. Take the mask, wear it as your own. It is your time to be the new executioner and help cleanse this wretched world.”

It’s been three full months since I had my question and answer session with Executioner Two. In a way, I got what I asked for. Something exciting finally happened in my life. The news of my disappearance was reported less than a day after I went missing. The world then forgot about me, just like all the others. I was replaced at work by another and my house was foreclosed and resold quickly. Almost all memory of me was erased. I was, quite literally, a nobody. In those three months, I’ve began losing my mind. It won’t be long until I’m thrust into full insanity. I did what any reasonable person would do in my situation. I took the knife and I wore my mask with pride. The taint of the world needs to be cleansed and when one executioner falls, another has to rise and take his place.

After all, life is nothing more than a vicious cycle. 