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Forums: Index > Writers' Workshop > COPYCATS draft 2


COPYCATS draft 2[]

Nobody remembers when they appeared, some think they have been here since the beginning of time and space, or at least since the first human existed, others think they came into existence more recently. I personally don't care where they come from, or how they got here, I only really care about keeping myself alive.

The copycats, that's what we call them. Most of the time they look almost human. I say almost, because they often appear as tall as the streetlights, or have big bulging eyes and smiles with too many teeth. Some of them can speak too, sort of as a way to lure us out. In reality, most of them aren't really talking, just reusing things they hear before their victims die. Their mouths never move when they “speak” and they never move an inch when they do.

But those who can speak dont sound human. They speak in tongues with deep voices that sound gentle, masking their violent natures, calling out for their victims, asking them to accept their fates, to finally accept death and come to them, the reapers. They like to live in dark spaces, areas where you can't tell if they’re human or not. Basements, alleyways, anywhere with a shadow to conceal them. The feds say to keep every corner in the house (or in my case, apartment) bright, and to make sure all doors or windows are locked. Because once they get in, anyone inside will never come back out.

I was sure that my apartment was safe, that I could live there forever. But recently, people have been running low on food. They have to risk going outside, opening the doors and letting the monsters in, forced to run through the masses of inhuman faces that flood the streets, growing as restless as we are. I see some of the braver people sometimes, out my window. I see them running through the streets, only to be devoured by the Copycats, who fight over the scraps of the bodies. It's been weeks now. I'm almost out of food. I’m pretty sure the other people in my apartment building have died, either of starvation or by running into the Copycats. I’ve noticed that the lights have been flickering in the apartments, and that the rent forms have stopped coming in. I don't know if anyone else is alive, I don't know how long I’m going to last in this hell. Some people might say I'm the lucky one, surviving this long. Personally I think it's hell, watching as people I love die, as the world around me dies, as this new race of monsters climbs its way to the top of the food chain, wiping us out in the process.



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HopelessNightOwl (talk) 11:53, 2 April 2024 (UTC)[]

Honestly this seems more like the exposition to a story than a proper story. The composition is good, barring a few minor typos, but the story structure is too vague and incomplete to be compelling.

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