Ah, Hello thread jumpers and reading enthusiasts. This is Scalix, just want to share the prologue of the novel i'm writing for any short and direct criticisms, i just wan't to know if it's acceptable or something that can catch the eye. Title: Treading with Monsters (Temporary) Genre: Dark Fantasy, Reincarnation Short synopsis (as of Chapter 1): A vengeful and longing soul accepts a bargain with a god to be his champion. Fighting for him at the secret wars designed for their amusement and for a chance to prove their superiority. (i suck at synopsis) <><><><><>Prologue: Sinner, Ungrateful, Savior, Undeserving, Defender, Murderer, Liberator, Monster… He had been called many names, yet none of them truly described him, they didn’t know of his reason… his beliefs in doing what he does. Some would question his sanity, his morals regarding the matters of how he executes his work. Only a few would look at him as a hero, only a few would describe him as a well-spoken man, social and confident, A man that is genuinely considered to be at the side of justice, a harbinger, while most looked at him as the bane of good, a ruthless killer— cold-blooded and a freak… He is a man of many faces, all created by the ideals of the Socratic society, what appears in the surface was what the masses labeled him as, what they wanted him to be, yet none of them know who he really is, they simply insulted him, never trying to learn more and never trying to dig deeper so they didn’t know what made him ‘tick’… but what truly lay inside was a conflicted man, simply disputed, a person that suffers in his own dilemmas and problems as he is but a human, filled with his own flaws and was molded by his own mistakes into what he is now. A simple human that also dreams… His constant faults and undeniable errors, all of it made him different. ‘Cold’, they called him for doing his job, for perfecting it… doing what he is good at. Killing for doing what others are afraid to do. Why would they judge him from what he is doing, if, all of this— all of his quarries were all issued by their own authority, their requests, their own orders... They wanted him to hunt down evil; thugs, bandits, murderers and dealers; all kinds of criminals. So he did, yet when he did his job, they blamed him for his inhumane actions, blamed him for their evil. They blamed him when some-one dies under the hand of one of his targets, they blame him when he fails to catch them… they screamed at him when he did his job, slurred their vile words when he became ruthless. It wasn’t his fault that he was an abandoned, it wasn’t his fault that he had to what he had to do to survive, it wasn’t his fault when he took the lives of others to do his job and help those who had been victimized. It wasn’t his fault that he turned into the man that he was now, for it was simply fate or destiny that tied him down to this kind of path, the path that he walked to survive. He felt regret as he held himself in the dark of his own prison, where he had been chained, beaten and tortured. He knew why he was blamed for crimes he didn’t commit, he justified his actions, yet they dared to judge him as a criminal; when in fact the true criminals lay there at the top, criminals that know how to play their game. Sitting in their fancy seats, wearing their fancy suits and jewelries— living their luxurious life-style… ignoring the suffering of those below them, tsk, he couldn’t help but feel disgust at them. Fat-pigs dressed in human clothing. Clothing so expensive, that even a piece of it alone could give a family a small house to shield them from the rain, enough meals to eat and enough coin to create a small business to sustain themselves for the following years. These were the Material-things that the poor could only wish to experience, a luxury only those who had power can have. Something that he can only dream off now that he was in prison… and it used to be almost within his reach; he spent 12 years saving his earnings, small amounts of copper and bits of silver, wealth earned through hard work and blood. He saved his coins so that he can achieve his dreams; that maybe one day he can walk a different path, to grasp the things that were once out of his reach, to have what he never had… a family. He dreamt of marrying the old baker’s daughter, she was pretty but not beautiful. Kind, meek and loving… but how could he achieve his dreams if the woman he loved was being threatened by those who stand atop… those who promised to uphold the morals and defend the weak? How could he just stand-still if one of the off-springs of those pigs, ripped the clothes of the woman who had been waiting for him? how could he watch as they humiliated her?, beat her…? How could he let them do what they want to the woman who looked at him with the same silly smile on her face despite the scars that had been placed on her once-smooth skin?… how could he let them soil her purity for being just a simple “commoner?” But he did, he let them do it and he was filled with guilt that he did, he watched as the son of one of the top and most prominent nobles woo her, watched her as she rejected the man’s offer… he watched her as they forced her, stripped her of clothing, and soiled her. He watched because he saw the love of his life, looking at him, pleading him with her beady brown eyes not to interfere, eyes that conveyed words, eyes that said that “this was but a small sacrifice so that they could stay together… forever” so he didn’t interfere and endured… for it was for the sake of achieving both of their dreams… to have a peaceful life together… to create a family of their own… to live their life in peace raising small whelps that will grow through time, until they lay old and weak in their beds… He couldn’t act because they had the power, the power to destroy everything he had ever worked hard for… with the law bending under each and every one of their desires, and he knew it fully, they could easily squash 12 years of hard-honest work like a little bug under their boots. Yet here he was in the deep dark and damp cell, with all his dreams shattering in a single moment. He wished that he could turn back time… he wished that he helped from the start… he wished that he saw it coming as the noble prick, took his sword and slid it through her heart… he watched as the murderer laughed at the common populace, looking at them as though he was looking at ants. That was when he snapped… his vision grew black when he unsheathed his own sword and charged at the murderer of his woman… and with a single swift stroke; a head flew and dyed the streets in blood. It was a moment when his inner demon broke free and took control. He regretted killing him like that, he wished that he didn’t kill him with a single strike, it was too easy… and painless… that pest should have suffered, like how she suffered… he would have skinned him, flaying his skin little by little, spreading salt on his wounds, then healing him and cutting again and again until only muscle and bone but still alive… he would have cut his balls and shoved it down his throat like the fucking cunt that he was… forcing it down with his own two hands until the fucker choked to death under his own meat and sperm. But he didn’t… and he grieved, he sobbed and cried for days… not because of their tortures… not because of regret… but because of ‘her’, because of her meaningless death… because she died right after she was sullied like a cheap whore because he was not able to save her. Because he watched her… because he can’t feel her comforting warmth anymore… the warmth that enabled him to endure… to tolerate walking the path that was forced to him by fate… *Creeaaakkk* The sound of the metallic doors opening pulled him back to reality— back to his current state. His skin now had cuts and welts as puss and infection spread. It hurt not because of the pain in his body… but because of how his love was forcefully ripped away from him… leaving him alone, his heart mutilated, with no one there to comfort and understand his inner demons… Two men came in and opened the iron bars; both were wearing leather cuirasses, brown leather boots and heavy-set gloves and a plate helmet, showing only their eyes. It was the typical attire of the royal lackeys, the two hulking men unlocked his chains but the shackles were replaced by rune-engraved cuffs. Magical items meant for constraining wizards and sorcerers, and any other magical being that is small enough to be constrained by the two measly cuffs. Sadly, these were a waste on him, having little to non-existent talent in the realms of magic, other than the basic spell of healing. They dragged him, with each of his arms held tight and secured. He could tell that they were experienced, and that they did their own research on him. Seeing that they were highly alert as they dragged him, he couldn’t help but feel flattered. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t even run if he could. He had nothing, a broken man after having lost his will, lost his everything. She was what made him human, his solace that sheltered him in times he when he was about to lose his sanity, the shelter of his soul, protecting him from succumbing to harsh winds and storms called reality. With her gone, it was like leaving his reason in an open cage, where his own humanity is in the brink of extinguishing in the faintest winds. He didn’t notice that they arrived in their destination until he heard the crowds screaming and shouting, their insults and joy, he just realized that they were there in the castle square where public executions are performed, executions meant for the vilest of captured criminals. Where they are noosed, and then left dangling until the death-crows come to defile the dead. The crowd was growing larger, the old and the young all mixed in, ready to find entertainment in this god-forsaken place. As they placed the rope on his head, tying it tightly while secured and properly knotted. He couldn’t help but smile. He was ready, ready to depart and meet his lost lover in the ethereal plane… whether it may be in the abyss… or paradise. “I’ll meet you again...” he muttered softly, it was full of love and warmth... and it was all meant for that single woman who filled the gap— the deep trench in his heart… *Chug* came and placed silence on the loud masses of people… The sound indicated that the lever used on controlling the platform below him was activated; he fell as the noose strangled him like a constricting snake, choking out the life from his body… The crowd roared as they watch him slowly suffocate. He didn’t know much time passed as the air was cut-off from his brain and his lips turning pale then blue… he didn’t know how long until dark-spots came and ate away the last of his sight until it left him to the mercy of the deep and dark void and to what inhabits it… But what he did know is that he had died and was left standing alone by death’s doorway… waiting for death to come and guide him. <><><><><>Thanks for those who read it. is it passable? i don't know, so please comment below.
uhmm Is it just me or sometimes it get mixed up with the POV? The prologue is catching yes but midway you lost me bro. It would be kinda cool because of the starting paragraphs But you should have hid the story behind to make it more mysterious and add it later on the story line or something. So it can have a great impact. But its just my thought or my liking so feel free to think of my suggestion. And by the way I like how you work on the describe each character. If im gonna rate to 1-5 if im interested. I give you 2 not because its bad I just feel like its missing something. BAAH maybe im just imagining or the prologue its not my taste.
that actually is how i'm writing the story, i wanted to expose his past as the story progresses but then i wouldn't have something to post here xD, i didn't put much thought on how i would make the prologue and decided to just add his life on it to make it longer and detailed so the readers could have some idea on the mc temperament, but until i post it somewhere, the prologue would stay the same, just in case i forget it. but thanks, i also feel that there amiss on how i wrote it :3, i just can't seem to to see it right.
So would it be reincarnation + time travel or just reincarnation? The prologue is promising imo and I've made a few conjencture on what could possibly happen in the future chapters.
It's reincarnating right after he had died, it's like, there's gap between his death and reincarnation.
The general outline of the plot sounds confincing. well the whole talk about being society's reject was somewhat of an interest killer ( sorry, too much stories with similar setting), but the following part was really good imo. the pain and suffocation of the mc (man, do I love this kind of heartwrench), his inner feelings, the description of scenery and atmosphere. And I feel like the protagonist gonna be really relatable, big point for a story. So yes, pls moar sensei.
Didn't Read lol, xD, it's going to be shorter after i post it, i just lengthened it here, so the readers would have an idea to the mc's temperament.
he's like a fantasy world, medieval bad cop, where the bad image of the kingdom's guards are pushed unto him, he's not evil, nor is he ruthless, each kill takes a piece of him but the love-interest keeps him from going insane, a good man pushed to be bad and as stated, he had done everything to survive and will try to walk a different path if he could, and yeah, it's probably kind of cliche xD