Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25051266-20141103234213

This is my full first draft upto a certain point i.e. It is not complete. Critiscism much appreciated thanks.

I shook and shivered. The blood and pus of my disease-ridden brother came trickling down, soaking the carpet. My life had been broken, everything slowly being snatched away. He looked up at me with his helpless, unforgiving eyes. I couldn't stare back, I couldn't. His blue skin went darker every minute of every second, his eyes got smaller and shrivelled, his voice had been turned to nothing but a loud wheezing sound, like that of a dying dog desperately begging for air. Why must my life be reduced to a living hell? Why! My brother's tears went down his innocent, rough cheeks. And mine too. He looked at me, silently mouthing the words "help me". His hands constantly shook with fear, I knew what was on his mind-the inevitable fate which he would meet. A handsome, young man that I looked up to had been reduced to this thing. A person that I loved dearly had been taken away from me. Again. "Don't worry it'll be fine I...promise." I spoke softly towards the miserable face. "Hey, remember that place we used to talk about when we were kids. Well, today we're going to go there, you remember don't you? Beautiful green fields and flowers of all colours and scents. Mum and Dad would sit there next to the picnic basket with bright smiles on their faces. The sun would shine brightly and we were all happy, let's go there right now." As I talked to him trying to comfort his poor soul, I put my hand in my pocket and shuffled with haste. "Hey why don't you close your eyes and Imagine all of us, as a family together. You, me, Mum and Dad. Just the the four of us. At peace." I took it out, my breath got heavier, my palms started to drip with sweat. I tightly gripped the cold metal of the gun, steadied my aim and fired. A loud sudden bang, my brother lay dead on the soft bed, some blood over my clothes. I had to do it otherwise it'd be too late.

My brother had caught this god-forsaken disease, and my mother too. As for my Dad, he's...no longer here. A series of symptoms take place through a seven-day period, at the end of which the "transformation" begins, and from then on the person you once knew no longer exists. It started a month ago then spread like wildfire. The story goes that there was an old lab with some crazy guy living there. From what I've heard he was the type of person you would try to avoid at all costs, he was a man with a grim, blunt expression on his empty face. He would always keep to himself and never talk with anyone. One day there was an explosion at the lab, and an elderly woman noticed through the dark orange flames and thick smoke, immediately calling for help. the police came to see what all the commotion was about, but what they found was beyond any of their worst nightmares. The man working there came out of the lab alive, his feet dragged and trudged against the ground. He was unrecognisable. His facial features distorted, his skin dark blue, his body shook, his teeth pale yellow, his eyes bloodshot, he was covered in black bruises and sores. He crawled towards the officers, panic and confusion broke out, then, under the frantic fumbling of chaos, one officer shot the man. The blood that seeped on to the concrete was a much darker red colour, closer to that of brown or black. Flies and rats rushed to the dead body nibbling on it's flesh, and a filthy odour arose from it. The lab was sectioned off and quarantined for further investigation, however it had soon became apparent that a disease was being spread after locals in the area began to get the same symptoms. They had turned to violent, grotesque, blood-thirsty creatures; savage beasts that lived off man. Later, more and more had caught the same disease, or perhaps it would be more correct to call it a curse. The government realised they would have to take action, and fast. The military had been called in to help any survivors and take them to safety, once taken they were trained as soldiers in order to fight against those demons. And that's what's going to happen to me. Soon they'll be coming, knocking on my door, taking me away from this hellhole. In the distance I could hear the clanging and rushing of vehicles, as soon as the industrial sound came to my hears I knew what was coming. I entered the room of my mother who lay on the bed unable to move, and brought her a glass of ice cold water. Her eyes were half-open, they slowly fixed their gaze on me, her wrinkled hands shook like wet, damp leaves. I wept, tears streamed down my face like a river as I watched how helpless she was, I tried to hide them but she could see. She was aware of how I felt. Then, with her weak breath and small tongue, she spoke. "Don't...cry." She whispered. I wanted to scream out, call for help. But there was no going back. Was she the helpless one, or was I? The sound got louder, I didn't have much time, I just wish that I could hold my mother's soft hand without fear of being infected, that I could hug her without fear of turning into some monster. Of all things, why me? Why couldn't I have been infected instead? There was a loud knock against the hollow wooden door, it was finally time. I ran to my room and got the most precious thing to me-an old diary which my father gave to me before his death, before he left. A soldier knocked again at the door, only this time louder. I opened the door and a tall man completely masked in black, holding a large rifle, came in. He took hold of my hand, stared at me for a few minutes, then told me to get into the truck. I saw the soldier go up the stairs and could hear the creak of the door to my mother's room. The rattling of gunfire and bullets could be heard from up above, my mother had been killed, and I wasn't surprised. For a few minutes I remained in a frozen state, staring, reminiscing about the times I spent with my family, those moments I cherished so dearly. The whole world became a wish-wash of memories, the sounds from the outside were drowned out, and my skin went numb. I could hear the feint cry of a soldier behind me, but in reality it wasn't feint at all, I just didn't want to hear it. "Hey! Hey!" The soldier shouted, yet I just stared. "Hey! Hey!" Again he shouted, but this time the sound became clearer.

He grabbed my shoulder and at that moment the world came back to me, I could see everything with pristine clarity and my mind zoned back into this gruelling world in which I lived.

"Son, are you okay? Quick come with us."

I wasn't okay, but what could I say? If I was going to be forced to fight then I'd have to face the world for what it is. I promised that I would avenge my father's death all those years ago, and I wasn't going to hold back on it now. As I was forced into the cramped truck, I held tightly to the cover of that diary in my hand, the diary in which my father's spirit lingers onto. All around me were the glum, distraught faces of children and teens forced from their homes, snatched away from their loved ones. Just like me.

The journey was shrouded in mystery and uncertainty, we were completely cloaked in darkness, nobody uttered a single word. But in their eyes could be seen the lives of tortured souls and shattered hearts, droopy eyes looking downwards attempting to avoid all eye contact like a shy child. Through treacherous bumps and relentless cracks along the road, the truck made it's abrupt halt. The doorway opened up letting in the powerful light of day which caused my eyes to squint. One by one each person was taken out, and entered a large building illuminated by dimly-lit lamps. Everyone sat down on the ground and stared up at a soldier-one of the generals-who stood firmly on a pedestal.

"Some of you are probably confused and scared, while others have been expecting this day. I'm sure you are all aware of the disease that has been going round the past month. Some of you may have had family members lost to this disease, and for that I am truly sorry. We have all taken you here in order to protect you, but that's not the only reason. Many soldiers have given up and lost their lives to provide you with this protection, so we need you to help us fight against the creatures. Please don't worry, we guarantee that you will all be in safe hands." The general addressed the crowd loudly. For some reason I felt that safety was the least of their concerns.

The soldiers began to yell at us and made us line up in single file. Every individual was taken to their own small chamber. The room was made of solid stone and had a bed that felt more like laying upon rocks than a mattress. The persistent buzzing of flies meant that you could barely get any sleep anyway, and the dangling light bulb attached to the ceiling flickered constantly, at times causing eye strain. I sat down on the bed and opened my diary, writing all that had happened that day. However something peculiar took place, a solider came into my room and commanded me to go with him. Puzzled as I was, I willingly followed him and peered into each room as I trailed behind. They all looked the same, the exact expression of pure unhappiness replicated uniformly on each face. It was like we were all being held in a prison cell.

I entered back into the main hall and was shown to a rather nice wooden table covered in velvet. Across from me a man sat down with an unsettling smile of arrogance on his face. His eyes focused sharply on me, and me alone as though I was someone of great importance. He wore a uniform and had thin, wavy brown hair.

"Hello there James." He put out his hand for shaking and I reluctantly accepted. "Sorry to have you come here on such short notice."

"How do you know me?" I asked.

"Forgive me, my name is General Kenneth. I used to work with your father-David."

"You knew my father?"

"Why yes I did, and it was a real tragedy what happened to him. A real shame."

"Could you tell me what happened?"

He took a deep breath, then spoke. "He was...a great man. But...unfortunately their were some unforeseen circumstances, which lead to him catching the disease." He would always pause and stutter at times as he tried to explain, there was something he wasn't telling me, but I couldn't tell what.

"Is that all?"

"Unfortunately, that's all I know." These were evidently the words of a liar. The twinkle in his eye, the way he looked at me I knew it, but I couldn't do anything.

I was ordered to leave but as I left he continually stared at me like a watchful hawk studying it's prey, my body shuddered slightly. I entered my room and lay on the uncomfortable bed trying to get some sleep, but my eyes wouldn't move even an inch. I stared up at the ceiling watching the multitude of insects and spiders scurry into seclusion. Creatures unaware of the world around them, nothing on their puny minds other than to eat and hide. Would it be better to live as an insect than bare the thought of having your whole family ripped apart, vanished away in the violent winds of death? As I sat alone my eyes became red and dark circles protruded from beneath them. Was I a prisoner being held in some mental asylum? It was morning at last, or so I thought. There were no clocks or windows and I had lost track of time. One of the guards burst into my room and chucked out a uniform, telling me to get dressed. I had no clue what was going on, though neither did anyone else. After getting dressed I marched along with the sea of others and we were made to go outside. The soothing natural air and untainted outdoor light of the sun was refreshing, the cool wind gently caressed my skin and softly rubbed my hair. We all stood in a line and our instructor walked cautiously passed each one of us, inspecting us.

"Today you will begin your first day of training." He shouted. "For this exercise we will show you one of the creatures in order to help you familiarise yourselves with the enemy." We were going to see them? I had never seen one of them before and didn't know how to feel. On one side I was scared and on the other I was somewhat anticipating it. A large cage towering over the instructor was brought forth and dragged by four soldiers. It was covered by a piece of cloth that didn't expose a single part of the creature. Then, the cloth was removed. A large dark blue creature with dry skin was in front of us all, it's nails were broken and black, it's yellow teeth were darker than I expected, deep black spots surrounded the whole body, but it's eyes were what horrified me. It's eyes, like the eyes of an ordinary human being but there was a distinct yellow tinge around the black pupils. It looked at me and as it did so I almost fell back, the sight was jarring, worse than I expected. It could only be described as a defenceless human being trapped within the confines of a demon's body.

One of the boys was handed a gun and told to shoot the beast to death. The boy appeared to be on the verge of crying, but took hold of the gun and put his shaking little finger on the trigger. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and fired. The bullet pierced through the tough skin like a knife easily plunging into flesh. A loud scream cried out from the lungs of the creature which felt eerily similar to a human's. The blood came seeping out like glutinous tree sap and had a revolting odour, but what surprised me most was that it was black. The stench created an unusual taste in my mouth, like the sour taste of copper. Then my mouth started to salivate uncontrollably and I started to cough like I had triggered some sort of allergic reaction, others around me spat froth onto the ground and so did I. I didn't know what was going on but thankfully it ended quickly, though my eyes still remained watery and stung a little. "Don't worry it's a common reaction the first time, you'll get over it." The instructor said, he then turned to the boy and commanded him to finish the creature off, but the boy just broke down in tears. "Would anyone else like to try? Perhaps you James?"

Why me of all people? He gave me the gun and told me to finish it off, though I really didn't want to, but I had no choice. I took the gun but as I lifted it the memory of my brother came back to me, making me hesitant to fire. I tried to shake it off and forget about it but that image just kept getting played back in my head. The more I looked at the beast the less I wanted to do this. But... Dammit! Just fire already, why can't I do it?

"Come on! We ain't got all day." He shouted into my hear.

I can do it, I know I can. Finally I fired the gun, again, and again, and again. I just kept firing till the beasts heart stopped, and it fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Well done, someone who can actually shoot down one of them. How interesting."

Was I a cold hearted murder? Had I been desensitised? No, in fact all this time the death of my family and the pain I had to endure was building up deep beneath my skin, and I tried extraneously to keep it out. I glanced up for a moment, and out of the corner of my eye was General Kenneth with a wide grin on his face, staring directly at me through a window at the top floor. There was no doubt he was looking at me. But why?

The training exercise had finished and everyone went back into their rooms. I sat down and took out my diary, writing down every tiny scrupulous detail. I decided to make this a habit of mine. Suddenly I was disturbed by someone who opened the door, and it was, unfortunately, Kenneth.

"What do you want?" I inquired nervously.

"I just wanted to say that I think you performed rather well in the training exercise. Just like your father."

Out of nowhere he grabbed my arm and stared lustfully at it.

"Yes indeed," he whispered, " just like your father."

I immediately backed away, partially due to fear. "I apologise, I don't know what came over me. Anyway I was wondering if you could see me tomorrow. It's something...important." The way he spoke caused a feeling of uneasiness, like he was planning something. But perhaps it was only my paranoia? Perhaps it was all in my head?

I couldn't take it, living alone locked in a cold room. What was I even doing here? This is their way of protecting us? I started to feel unusual, different. I already went through immense pain before, so why do I have to go through this? I tried to get the thought out of my head and relax, as difficult as it was. I became so bored and lonely that I would spend hours writing in my diary, to the point where it was as though I was writing a novel, filling every page one by one as the ink of my pen swivelled stiffly on the paper. Resting on the rock solid bed had caused marks and bruises on my back which were quite painful at times, and lack of sleep meant that I would feel dizzy and sick in the morning. Yet again I tried to achieve the sleep I desired, but this time it was near impossible.

The next day there were no training exercises, instead, we were taking a day off or a "break" as they called it, however it was anything but a break. At least now we could get a shower, even if they weren't the best, in fact they were far from it-absolutely repulsive. The water was either so hot it would make your blood boil or so cold it would feel like all your skin cells had died. To top things off the showers looked as if they hadn't been cleaned in years, if at all: green grime was all over the place, the water had a brown colour and insects crawled amidst every nook and cranny. This was one of the odd times when I was actually relieved to not take a shower, and be able to retreat back to my place of solitude. Everyday felt like the same old story retold over and over again-I would sit in my room and write in my diary. I would hardly consider this a privilege, but seeing the others hunched on their beds staring into the dusty air made me quite grateful.

Sitting alone on my bed, there was a light tap against the door. I came to the realisation that I had made a grave error, and that the person coming in could only be one. It was Kenneth. I had forgotten to go to his room, although to be honest neither did I want to. Fear overtook me at the thought of what he might do, looking disappointed and almost angry.

"Hello James. Didn't I tell you to go to my room? It was something of rather high importance remember."

"Sorry sir, it was a mistake ."

"Well, I can be willing to overlook mistakes, but please promise me you will come. After all I hate liars, and you wouldn't want to be one." He gave me a stare of authority, looking down upon me with his smug face.

"Okay sir."

"Listen, this isn't about me, it's about you. I have the utmost care for you. You want to no about your father, don't you? I promise all will be revealed." I was unable to discern whether what he was saying was sincere, but I felt there was something he was hiding about my father, it was blatantly obvious. As though some dark truth lay in excitement behind the moist lips of General Kenneth.

The sun rose above the horizon as the time for a new day approached, and nerves crawled over me. As we were all being marched to our next training exercise a soldier picked me out from the huddled masses of people, and my heart stopped. I was ordered to go to General Kenneth's room. I walked slowly and steadily up the winding stretch of stairs, my sweaty palms sticking to the banister. I stopped dead in my tracks when I had reached two identical doors. They were made of wood and coated in dark red paint with gold accents. I plucked up the courage and opened the doors which produced a loud creaking sound, so loud that there was no doubt Kenneth would've heard it. But to my surprise he wasn't there. I decided to search for him in the mysterious land that I had set foot in.

I stepped onto the shaking floorboards, some jagged edges and splinters stuck out. They made just as loud of a sound as the door. The cold windows were completely covered in thick layers of dust and blurred the outside, some dying flies squirmed on the ledge. The whole room was chilling like a freezer and smelled of decaying wood, with lice gnawing on planks, filling their stomachs. I searched around for some sort of light switch but there was none to find in the misty shadows, the windows barely served their purpose. I saw a chair which smelled of old leather, and at the side of it were some scratch marks digging deep into the fabric. What could of caused it? I had brought my diary all the way up with me, and clenched my hands tightly to the cover.

I heard the sweet chirping of a bird nearby and followed it to the source. The pleasant, soothing sound of nature quickly died down and what replaced it was a low-pitched growl. I approached a desk with a birdcage covered in some rags. Through the material could be seen two silhouettes: a bird which stood proudly over another which lay perfectly still. As much as I didn't want to touch anything, I thought nothing of it, after all they're just birds. I removed the veil and was struck with shock, intense terror ran through my rattling bones. One bird had furry, blue wings with black spots, and a knife-like beak. Its feet had sharp claws and its eyes stared deep into my soul. The other bird was on the ground with its stomach open, and its eyes stared at me, begging me to put it out of its misery. The first bird pulled out the guts of the second with its beak and claws which were covered in crimson red. The most sickening part was that the first bird was consuming the second by drinking its blood which went down its gullet. I fell to the ground and almost hurled, covering my mouth and closing my eyes to get the image out of my head.

I grew the courage to get back up and leave the area, walking rapidly towards the door with sweat trickling down every crevice of my body. I caught my breath and calmed down, when I made it to the door I felt a jolt of relief. The only thing on my mind was to get out and fast. My feeling of calmness, however, was short lived. As I reached out to the cool bronze handle, another person pushed the door open. My legs shivered, I caught the first few glimpses of the man, and my worst fear was confirmed. It was Kenneth.

"Ah, James, you came here like I asked," he tilted is head towards the birdcage and noticed that the coverings had been removed, he then looked at me with a slight smirk for a moment.

"I can see you've already been exploring the place. Hey why don't you take a seat on that chair." Pointing towards the leather chair I had witnessed earlier.

I sat down on the comfortable chair, or what I had assumed it would've been like in its original state. The only feeling it gave was rugged and tough like a chewy piece of raw meet. 