Non-Erotic Fiction piece...feedback?
I have Begun the novel I've been turning over in my head for a while now, and after a dozen starts and stops I think I have an intro (the hardest part to write for me). I'm not too worried about technical stuff at this point; just wrote it, and I'll revise a lot as I go until I can get the voice I want. But does the feel and scenario work as an introduction? It's short, of course, but do you get any sense of the character or concept? Does it make you want to read more? While understanding the Plot hasn't been introduced yet (what she needs to be ready for won't be made clear until the last page, most likely), is there anything going on that leaves you confused or wanting more explanation?
Many thanks in advance,
-E.B.
Her small body huddled beneath the ragged, torn blanket, Elizabeth cried. The sobs echoed in the hall; despite its size she was the only girl here – all the others were at supper. Going without had been part of her punishment. It had been a cruel one, too: supper was the only meal served in the orphanage, and this was the third day in a row she’d been punished. Headmistress Constance had also added forty strokes of the cane this time, twice as many as yesterday, citing continued ill behavior.
I’m not ill behaved at all, though! Things simply seem to keep going wrong around me. Today it had been the ink. She’d been staring at it during penmanship instruction, unaware; the way one stares at something so intently it vanishes, and all that exists is the focus of the mind. And the glass had shattered, and the black liquid had flowed everywhere. It spattered on the floor like drops of dark blood, and stained her dress – although that had been no loss, as the poor fabric already had so many – and had ruined her page as she sat dumbfounded, quill in hand.
So now, her back burned and her stomach growled in dismay, and the tears came quickly to her eyes. She was alone in the huge room until the other girls came up to sleep, and she felt it in her soul.
A moment later, she was not alone.
This, too, the Headmistress used to beat her for, saying she was ranting about nightmares or making up stories. But beneath the covers, trembling with cold, and pain, and sorrow, and very much awake, she listened to the Shadow Thing breathe in the corner.
Elizabeth did not look from under the covers – she had learned not to do that any more. It would make her scream, and there would be more stripes. But she knew what she would see: within the shadow, in the deepest darkness, would be a blackness in the shape of a person. It came and went silently, never seeming to move: it only watched and waited for…something. Never had she found out what. There were stories of demons that would snatch away children in the night, and perhaps this was its goal, but if so it had passed up many chances. She’d never fallen asleep while it watched – the terror never allowed her that – but many times she had awoken to its slow, quiet breathing.
When the Shadow Thing came, she could only do as she did now: huddle deeper within her blanket and try to keep away the cold and terror. It would go away, eventually. Sometimes it took only a few minutes; others, until morning. But always, always the Shadow Thing would stay in the same corner, watching but doing nothing. That was the only comfort of her haunting.
Tonight, however, the unthinkable happened. It took a step. The footfall was light, almost tentative; as though the Shadow Thing itself weren’t certain what it could do now. But it was enough: it was coming for her, finally. She thought about running, but realized there was no where to go: the heavy oak door was barred from without, and the shuttered windows dropped a deadly five floors to ice and stone. The girls were kept here precisely because there was no way out. She thought to fight, for a moment, but that passed quickly; how does one fight a shadow, or a demon? For another moment she even thought to pray, but that too passed. She had never been one for religion.
All that remained was to huddle beneath the blanket and await her doom.
The footsteps continued, at first very slow but increasing. When they stopped next to her bed, they were almost a normal pace. Under the blanket the air grew colder and Elizabeth’s breath formed clouds when she exhaled. There was a muffled thump and the blanket jerked as something was dropped on the bed, and she gasped and whimpered.
It spoke. It had never done that before, either, but in her nightmares – her true nightmares, when she was sleeping – it was the sound of the rusted hinges on the attic door, or the screeching trains of wounded soldiers grinding to a halt across the road. It was different in reality, however; the voice was like a warm fire built with stolen coal, or the caress of a dead bird’s feather on her palm. It was as warm as the air was cold, and promised something she couldn’t understand, something marvelous and enticing – like the sweetest candies on a chemists shelf. Every word spoke of love, and something deeper, although that was much darker.
“You must not fear me. I have tried to give you time, to let you come to know me, but things are soon to begin and you must be ready; and my poor darling, only I am here to prepare you.” A heartbeat, and it – She? – was gone. The cold receded a little bit; only a little bit, for it was always cold here, and Elizabeth stopped her shivering and threw off the blanket.
On the edge of the bed the Shadow Thing had left an offering: a loaf of bread, good bread like she could never get, with nuts and raisins and cinnamon, if only she knew what cinnamon tasted like, and it was the most delicious meal she had ever eaten in her young life. She broke off chunks and stuffed them in her mouth, devouring it ravenously, and when it was gone she picked up every crumb and savored them until nothing at all remained.
She is kinder than the Headmistress. Perhaps – just perhaps – I could let go the fear a little bit.
P.S. - a later chapter is already in the library, under "Dark Fire." Sabine's name has changed to Elizabeth in this prequel, but it's the same character.
