You see, I wish I had thought more about it and continued writing, because I have had so many new ideas since I have written this. Perhaps I will come back to it later, but I’d like to explore some new directions.
Short Story / Ego Death
The sound of horns,one great long unsettling note rose into the air and echoed off the mountain walls, announcing our closeness.
Silence.
An echoe.
The drumming began. A deep, slow paced rythmic thudding driving us to move on. We climbed, we crawled. Bloodied knuckles scraped against cold unforgiving stone and wet moss, mud. The drumming persisted. My legs cramped, my lungs burned, the rope cut into my neck as it pulled us along, driven by that persistant drumming. Every so often the dark men would check us, utter a word in their foreign tounge, and move along. The sun was setting below the forested peaks, the fact that it may be the last time my eyes settle upon such a beauty lost in the pain and gravity of the situation.
Twice I fell, and both times I had been quick to get back up. My legs were bloodied, my clothes torn, and my ego shattered, and I was only driven by that primal urge to preserve my life. I had seen what they had done to the fallen.
A dark man climbed to the top of a rocky spire, raised an ivory horn to his lips, and blew, it’s ghostly call penetrating the forest. This time it was returned faster, and the dark men gave a cheer. The drumming hastened.
By the time the horns echoed so close together I could not tell where one started and the other began, I could see the fire burning through the woods, it being the only source of light in this dark place. The drumming behind me stopped, perhaps drowned out by the constant gallop-paced drumming ahead of us.
As we rounded the last bend of trees, my eyes grew wide with horror as I saw what would extinguish the last subtle piece of hope I had clung onto in the back of my mind.
The dark men, about a hundred or so, danced around a raging inferno, jumping and skipping and shrieking to the sound of the drum beat, monstrously disfigured shadows cast upon the trees around the clearing. In the center, a stone altar, a staircase of sorts, leading to an arch at it’s summit, it’s purpose I could only imagine.The drumming was overwhelming, invading all brain processes, striking at the very center of my heart. At this time I lost all shreds of my former self, not even daring to think of my pleasent peaceful life before. I became a creature of pure sense and emotion, whimpering and fear-stricken. The fear took over me, and I wept.
Like a child.
A dark man approached us, a cold look in his eye, a long dagger in his hand. I did what I could to stop my crying, trying to do the very best I could to stay anonymous. No use. He raised the dagger, and with one swift motion, brought it down.
My bonds had been cut.
Suddenly I was forced upon my knees by a painful thump to my back, as had my one-time comrades to my left and right. The man to my left was weeping uncontrollably, sniffling, pathetic, could not even bring himself to look at what was going on. This, for some reason, gave me some resolve, sobered me up a little bit, and I stopped the tears from coming. Before I had time to celebrate that one small personal victory, a dark man approached us. He had extravagant tatoos up and down his body, his face made all the more menacing by the fire-shadows. And the drumming.
Infront of us he placed three bowls, filled with an unremarkable brown pile of some sort of plant material. A last meal, I thought to myself. The man to my left, perhaps thinking the same thing, became hysterical, weeping and muttering nonsense, backed up and away from this final hurdle, and ran off into the woods. I lowered my head as I saw a dark man raise a bow and arrow, wanting to delay the thought of death a while longer. It found me however, with a wet thump and a distant shriek. I ate the bowl’s contents. It tasted like dirt.
The drumming was ever-present, and it seemed to be getting louder and louder, the shrieks of the wild men rising to the night sky along with the smoke from the fire. I was brought to my feet, the sharp end of a spear motivating my movement towards the altar. The fear panged, rising, and I barely held on to my senses, whimpering under my breath. One last march. Hold it together.
The spear cut small gashes in my back as it urged me up the altar. This was it. I took in the grittiness of the rough rock I climbed upon, the heat of the fire upon my sking, the aching pain I felt in every part of my body, even the fear I felt in my mind. As I reached the summit, I saw finally my destination: A large hole hidden behind the altar, it’s depth lost in a black shadow. This was to be my resting place, my tombstone, my goodbye.
Gruff hands tugged at my arms, human touch for probably the last time, feeling stranger than I had ever remembered in my life, perhaps under death’s veil upon my senses. I turned to face that horrible scene once again. The wild men dancing, shrieking louder and wilder every passing second. The smells, the sounds, the fire flickering, my senses were overpowered. The fear. The drumming.
The tatooed man walked up the steps, each new height he reached seemingly matched by the shrieks and the noise. I couldn’t stand it, this was it.
There we stood, face to face, his dark eyes seeing through me, perpetrating all senses of privateness, they stared into my soul, judging. I stood there weak, afraid, sore, tired, beaten, a former shell of what I used to be. Senses overloaded, will broken, this was how I would meet my end.
He shouted a foreign word, the drumming and shrieking stopped, and for one split second, I enjoyed silence. He raised his hands and sent me flying into the oblivion.
I fell into darkness, the light and sounds falling away from me, replaced by complete blackness. Spiraling down, down, falling backward, the sensation of falling in every part of me, in my mind. Earth and pain passed me, through me, tracers in the blackness. A continous scream in the dark, was it mine? My senses failed me, replaced by a feeling of dread and relief at the same time. I was no longer I, I was just feeling. Dread, acceptance, relief…..rebirth.
Ego Death.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
Harvest reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
unforgiving stone and wet moss, mud. (awkward comma and isertion of ‘mud’)
by that persistant drumming (persistent)
The sun was setting below (awkward sentence)
Twice I fell—avoid these. Just say I fell twice
I could see—avoid passive voice and use active verbs instead. (I saw)
hope I had clung onto—clung to.
a raging inferno—is it a raging inferno, or just a big fire. Avoid poetic diction, unless the situation calls for it.
I became a creature of pure sense and emotion—a little ambiguous. A creature of sense is one who thinks rationally as opposed to emotionally. give us more detailes about what he is feeling in the context of what’s going on.
Like a child. —incorporate this to the previous sentence. Don’t put it as a new paragraph.
My bonds had been cut—again, use active verbs. instead of giving us facts, describe HOW the creature cut the bonds.
sniffling, pathetic, could not even bring himself to look at what was going on—run-on sentence
Infront—in front
human touch for probably the last time—Are these men human or not?
there are a few things that you need to keep in mind as you write: mainly, Plot and conflict. You’ve got conflict, and that’s a good thing. You’ve got things at stake. The narrator is a prisoner with the risk of being murdered by savages. However, we don’t see any struggle, and in stories struggle is not optional, but mandatory. Make your character rebell or fight or attempt in any sort of way to save his life, and then make him fall and struggle some more. Having that stablished, you need a more defined plot arch. The climax seems to be when he’s trhown into the pit, but it’s muddled by the fact that there was no built up of tension—because there was no struggle of the protagonist.
Focus on that for your revision of this story and for the rest of your writing.
What you did well was placing the reader in this world. A bit like LOTR, but also with the mentality of colonial fiction like Robinson Crusoe. Remember that natives are not devils. there is a lot behind your story that you need to tap into.
Watch your commas, and watch the flow of your sentences!
good attempt, though. Keep writing
Erick C.
- add/view comments (0)
Marowit reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
There were a few typos that may or may not have already been pointed out:
3rd line – “echoe” should be “echo”
3rd page, 3rd par – ” upon my sking” to “skin”
same par – “it’s depth” should be “its” because of possession
last page – “The tatooed man” to “tattooed”
Suggestions:
2nd paragraph - ”My legs were bloodied, my clothes torn, and my ego shattered” you could remove ”, and” and simply have the comma there alone.
2nd page – “The fear took over me,” consider “overtook me” or “overwhelmed” It came across as halting and took away from the smoothness of the reading.
3rd page, 3rd par – “saw finally my destination: A large” Here, the capital “A” is unnecessary because it is part of the same sentence. “destination: a large…”
Reconsider the structure of some of the sentences; the number of commas is sometimes distracting and decreases the overall flow of the piece. In many cases it works wonderfully, but in others it makes the sentences too choppy.
Other than that, great job! The imagery was wonderful and the setting was described beautifully. The only thing I think I didn’t find was the imagery of smell, and there was I believe only one reference to taste. Seems the narrator is in the jungle, and a main description of the jungle is the cloying, suffocating smell of dirt and sweat and wildly growing life.
You definitely have talent. Continue!
sg2484 reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
I loved the visual imagery. You do a great job of creating an atmosphere and describing surroundings. I’m also a big fan of the short sentences to exentuate major dramatic points. Furthermore, I think that your writing style is pretty well formed and you might have a chance at pursuing publishing. This story, I felt, could have been in a high school textbook but, perhaps, the complexity and the abstract factor of the writing may be too high of a level for high school minds. Overall, I think you have talent and I wish you luck.
caralynn reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
story has good tension and timing. builds well to the ending. i would suggest reading it out loud to hear the grammatical problems that exist. two places where repetitive phrases are too close together – ”...and fear-stricken…The fear took over me…” and then “a dark man approached” and then later in the next paragraph you repeat the same exact phrase. some good imagery including “death’s veil upon my senses”. at the very ending you introduced an new concept and threw me off – rebirth. since this was never intimated, it surprised me.
chelly reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
I thought this was a pretty decent read but there are some wording and spelling problems, just a few:
echoe=echo
rythmic= rhythmic
tounge=tongue
last time my eyes settle upon such a beauty lost in the pain =settled upon such a beauty was lost
There was a few more flaws as such that careful rereading and editing will solve.
Other than that I feel like this story can be expanded on.
I enjoyed reading your work. Thank-you for the story.
quaintfungus reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
After reading your casual introduction to this piece I was expecting a half hearted piece of writing but I found to my pleasant surprise that this work was really quite well thought out and a good read.
The best thing about your writing is the pace. really drags the reader on just like the captive. I think your trick with the drumming was good. The sound prevades the story. I really found myself wanting to know what happened to the captive.
So what happens next are you going to leave us in mid-air or are you going to write some more.
Typos:
echoe.- echo
tounge – tongue
pleasent – pleasant
To improve I would suggest using the drug they are given at the altar to bend the captives reason maybe make him hallucinate.
Liked this a lot well done
Showing 1 - 6 of 6
Review item
Add to favesCreator
Relevant Links
Item Stats
GENERAL
6 Reviews 2 Comments
Version 1
Latest Activity: about 1 month ago
REVIEW QUEUE
Appeared in Queue: 74 Times
Skipped: 2 Times
Ratings & Rankings
