Iron Quill Beta:In the Dark

[Mister Monkey]

It was dark, not the sort of darkness that causes you to trip over the cat a night but the sort that is the sheer absence of light. Jack felt disorientated the last thing he could remember was curling up to sleep under the pile of rags he called a bed beneath Tinsdale Bridge.

An odour wafted around him, it was not pleasant it reminded him of the time he stole the ‘Daily Special’ from Ma Higgins Pie shop.

“Hello?” a small frightened voice came from the darkness, instinctively Jack’s hand went for the small kitchen knife he carried for protection he felt braver with his fingers wrapped around the familiar wooden handle.

“Who’s there?” he demanded.

“My name is Mary Rothswood , I live at 17 West Engles St” it was the rehearsed reply of a young girl who had had it drilled into her by her parents.

“What are you doing here and more importantly why am I here?” Jack barked out at her, at once he could hear her start sniffling, it was not long before it was a full blown bawling fit. Jack groaned inwardly he hated dealing with young girls.

“I am sorry” Jack said in the most comforting voice he could muster “Just trying to figure out where we are. What do you remember?”

The crying slowed down until it was just the occasional sniffle. Jack reached out groping in the darkness until he found a small hand and curled his fingers around it.

“Well” the small frightened voice started “I was in bed, and I had a dream. There was a funny sack man and he was doing a little dance for me.” Instantly the hairs on the back of Jacks neck stood up.

“Go on.” He prompted.

“It’s all so hazy. I remember I started giggling then he took a bow and advanced on me. He opened his mouth, it smelled like when Mister Mittens yawns in my face.”

“Mister Mittens?” Jack asked.

“Mister Mittens, my cat. Next thing I know it was dark and I was here.” Mary’s voice broke down and she started sobbing again.

Jack was worried, he remembered stories Ol’ Ron used to tell him when he first started living on the streets, stories of the Stitchies who would go about at night and eat naughty young children. He had always dismissed them as old wives tales to keep the urchins in line, but what if he was right.

“Come on we are getting out of here.” He started feeling around until he found what he was looking for, a wall that felt like old damp sacking. Pulling out his small knife he stabbed as hard as he could at the lining.

There was a low rumbling sound and their surrounding s lurched, immediately Mary started crying again. Putting all his weight onto the knife Jack tried to move it, to cut his way to freedom.

“I need your help!” Jack pleaded to Mary “help me with the knife!”

“I can’t, I am scared.” Mary blubbered to him.

“Do you really want to die here?” Jack screamed at her. He felt her small fingers wrap around his and felt her weight apply itself to the knife, finally it started to shift, there was a tearing sound then it was as if somebody pulled a rug from under him and he toppled.

The light from a nearby street lamp pierced his eyes as Jack lay sprawled on the cold cobblestones of the street, a foul stench invaded his senses. An overwhelming sense of danger willed his body into action and he scrambled to his feet clenching his little knife.

The scene in front of him was horrific, a mockery of a man made from burlap sacks stood before him desperately trying to stem the flow of rotting meat from a large tear in his side. He saw Jack and emitted a low growling noise and advanced on the young urchin, the mean looking hook that served for his hands glistened in the lamplight as it rose to strike.

Jack stood defiantly his little knife quivered, from fear or adrenaline he did not know, what he did know was that if it was his time he was going out kicking and screaming.

The Burlap man stopped, tilting his head quizzically studying the boy before him. What can only be described as a giggle escaped the strange creatures lips, and from one of the folds in his burlap body he produced an old coin.

“Heads you live, tails you die” the creature rasped at him as it tossed the coin into the air.

Jack watched helplessly as the coin clattered into the cobbles, he had to will himself to watch as his very existence hinged on such a small thing. After what seemed like an age the coin came to rest , the Governor’s minted face staring up at him.

The creature screamed with frustration, and once more tensed for the attack, Jack waited for the blow that would end him. Instead a giggle once more escaped the creatures lips, the piece of sacking above the creatures eye closed over it the way a man would wink, and the creature ran off into the night a strange fog gathering around it as a cloak.

Hearing something behind him Jack wheeled presenting his little knife, he found himself looking into the frightened eyes of a young girl.

“Mary are you alright?” He asked suddenly remembering he was not alone in this nightmare.

“My name is Mary Rothswood , I live at 17 West Engles St” she said, the shock of the event evident in her face. He took her small hand in his.

“Come on I will get you home.” He said soothingly leading her off into the night.

“You are safe now.” He tried to sound as reassuring as he could as he clenched the knife in his other hand, for the streets of Malifaux were a dark and dangerous place.

Edited July 19, 2012 by Mister Monkey
Paragraph break added

[Thechosenone]

Thanks for the story.

There's a lot of nice imagery there to enjoy but I'd really be SO much happier if you could reformat this. Right now it appears as a huge block of text and its so difficulty to get into it since the entire thing just blurs together into a wall of words.

[Sliver Chocobo]

Cleaver use of the stiched together, very well written. I like the idea of them going around eating small children at night. Also nice Nightmare before Christmas reference

[Mister Monkey]

Thanks to Edonil for the reformatting help

[edonil]

The story is good, but you've got an extremely formal tone to it that doesn't seem to fit the character. It just makes things feel stilted and awkward at times. Contractions and some slang would help with that, especially since I only realized toward the end that Jack was supposed to be around a teenager's age, not an adult! That, and Mary comes across as one of those disturbing horror movie 'beyond her age' kids...She's just got a grasp of concepts that I wouldn't expect from a kid who seems to be under ten years old.

You've also got some spots that come across as awkward, mainly because it feels like you've got too many words. As an example:

Jack barked out at her, at once he could hear her start sniffling, it was not long before it was a full blown bawling fit. Jack groaned inwardly he hated dealing with young girls.

You might want to try something like this instead:

Jack barked at her. It was only a heartbeat before the first sniffle, and only a moment after that came the full on bawling. Jack suppressed a groan. Oh, how he hated dealing with little girls.

Not saying that the above is perfect, but the flow is a little more natural.

I love the concept, and as everyone said, the Nightmare Before Christmas reference was top notch. I hope to see more from you in the future! It's always nice seeing new writers.

[ThePandaDirector]

Nice and simple.

You need more pauses in your sentences:

"It was dark. Not the sort of darkness that causes you to trip over the cat a night, but the sort that is the sheer absence of light. Jack felt disorientated. The last thing he could remember was curling up to sleep under the pile of rags he called a bed beneath Tinsdale Bridge."

Sometimes you're missing a comma, other times you could do with just putting in a full stop.

I did feel that Jack was much older, contradicted only by the small knife. Agree with the dialogue, read UberGruber's story with similar characters.

The sudden ending did fit some, but I would expect Jack and Mary to be covered in guts and grim, which isn't really mentioned.

Cheers =]

P.S. This is the second story to mention a cat

[ukrocky]

Love the use of 'stitchies' and the contrasting characters

[Paddywhack]

Great little story - loved the imagery. Love the use of the stitched together and thought you characterized him well. Technically you have a lot of run on sentences, which makes the story more difficult to read. Don't be afraid of short sentences if needed (coming from someone who loves long, drawn out, time stopping sentences that can almost be a whole paragraph on their own)

Thank for the story!

[El Indio]

A neat little set-up, and I liked a lot of the imagery (the gush of meat from the Stitched's side, the use of feline fish-breath as a simile, the funny mention of the "daily special" pie).

After the kids got out of the Stitched's belly, though, the story kind of petered out for me. The Stitched's coin flip and its aftermath felt a little anticlimactic, and Jack's response to it came across as out-of-character. Why would a tough, resourceful street urchin just stand there after he escaped? Once he saw the Stitched Together trying to hold in its guts, I expected him to take to his heels. Or at least for him to out-play the Stitched, once he realized what was going on. Maybe he could be a budding con artist himself, good at stacking a deck or some other bit of larceny which would allow him to cheat a cheater.

Again, though, it was a nice set-up, small and intimate, which helps when dealing with this kind of word limit. Thanks for sharing!