Writer's Aid discussion

It would be great if people could just read over the chapters I post and let me know about anything I need to change ^.^

*9 years ago*

Michael
I lay there silently, curled into a ball clutching my pillow as tight as I could around my ears trying to block out all the screams. I don’t understand why they always do this. I know the fallen are evil and monsters, but do we really have to kill them? Let alone torture them. Another scream erupts from the basement, if you’ve never heard a fallen angel scream, I’ll clue you in a little: it’s the most horrific sound that will ever grace your ears, it’s the screech of someone who has already lost so much and yet things are still being taken from them. My parents don’t understand my feelings towards them. They don’t see things like I do. No actually that’s not strictly true; they refuse to see what I do. They claim to see the good in everyone, but if they did they wouldn’t kill the angels. Of course some of the fallen are truly too far gone to save, but others, like the ones Father brought in earlier, can be saved.

'I won't be a passerby any longer,' I chanted to myself as I clenched and unclenched my fists whilst rummaging through my parents desks. The second I felt the cool touch of metal I knew I'd found what I'd been searching for. Mother and Father always told me that once I was old enough to wield a holy weapon they'd grant me one. But there was no time. I pulled the metal object out of its hiding place and studied it. It was smaller than I'd imagined, still too big for my little hands but small enough to hold with little to no effort. It was impossibly shiny, even where my fingers had been placed, not a single mark was left. It was relatively plain the only decoration was a single embossed rose on the base.

With the cylindrical object tightly in my hands I stepped lightly down the stairs, my ears ringing from the shrill screams. I reached the bottom and a chocked cry caught in my throat. Beside the heavy cast iron door leading to the room where my parents did their "work" there was a body, or at least a pile of meat that used to be a body. Chunks of red covered in large black feathers, pale skin pulled tightly over bone and exposed muscle. I gagged at the sight but refused to give up, this for me was proof enough they needed to be stopped. Beside what I assumed to be a man was a small tray covered in personal effects soaked with blood, two objects stood out to me: a small locket and a dark steel object much like the one in my hand only this one was embossed with the head of a bear. I slid the weapon into my pyjama pocket and studied the locket; it was simple enough, a basic gold chain with a little heart. I fumbled with the latch for a few seconds before it clicked open, exposing a small inscription and a picture. The inscription read 'This Is What We Fight For' in a script with far too many loops for my liking, and the photograph was of a small child, a girl about my age with pitch black hair and burning red eyes. I let a single tear to escape my eye and trickle down my face. This little girl was never going to see her parents again…

Fastening the locket around my own neck I was faced with my next problem: the door into the basement was sealed shut with a pin code, issue being, I don’t know the code. I studied the tiles of the keypad squinting in the low light. The silver object in my hand began to heat up slowly and a soft white light shone from one of the ends, I held it close to the keypad and studied the keys with the most wear, easy enough to figure out 1-1-0-6 namely my birthday, it didn’t come as much of a surprise, I was my parents most prised possession, yes I say possession, I don’t get to decide anything in my own life. Everything in my life is controlled by them.

I took one more deep breath before typing in the code and watching the door slowly swing open. The room fell silent as I gently stepped in. Neither of my parents were present, there was however a fallen, strapped down with leather ties to a rather archaic surgeons table. I rushed over to the angel and she simply stared at me in somewhat disbelief,
‘Shhh’ I whispered, ‘Look I’m going to try and get you out of here, but I need you to trust me okay?’ my eyes pleaded with hers, she gave a slight nod. I focused on the bindings but couldn’t seem to free her from them; I needed to act quickly, before my parents return. My thoughts were running at a million miles an hour trying to think of a way to cut the straps. The weapon I had taken from my parents’ desk again began to heat up and a blade of sorts erupted from the tip. It was made of the same white light as earlier only now it appeared to be more solid. Without a second thought I tore apart the bindings and gently lifted the woman from the table. She was lighter than I’d expected, but then again I’m a lot stronger that most eight year olds. Her blood soaked through my shirt effortlessly, making my chest feel sticky and the horrific smell of rust and salt to fill my nose. I was half was up the stairs carrying her barely conscious form when I heard heels on tiles and a string of curse words come from behind me. I crept up the stairs a little faster and reached the top just as my father’s silhouette was framed by the light of the basement. I broke into a sprint for the front door as I heard my his booming footsteps edge closer,

‘Michael!’ he yelled grabbing me by my shoulder and causing me to throw the angel across the room, I winced as her head made a dull thud on the floor and her eyes once again fluttered shut. I escaped my Father’s grasp to shield the angel from his sword by drawing my own. I was so fixed on blocking his slashes that by the time I saw Mother leaning over her it was already too late. I screamed and a stronger light beamed from my hilt causing my parents to stager back. The angel reached for me and I held her hand,
‘I’m so sorry,’ I wept,
‘My ring… my little girl… please…’ she croaked out as her eyes slowly lost their light and she faded away. I took the ring from her finger and placed in on my own finger.
‘Michael, we will forgive you this once. It’s a good thing you didn’t manage to set her free. They are monsters Michael. You can never help them again, do you understand me?’ my parents glared sternly at me. I gave a small nod as they gave me some clothes to change into for a cleansing. I headed to my room and hid the fallen’s weapon, necklace and ring under my pillow to retrieve after I had been washed clean of the sinners blood. The sword I was claiming for myself was confiscated once again by my parents until I was old enough.

I vow I will find your daughter, and I swear no harm will come to her as long as I live.

Love it, can't wait to hear more. My only advice would be to slow down a bit, explain more of what was going on and expand upon it. Good Luck (and I like the Name)

All right thanks, this is just a sort of prologue to explain Michael's determination and basic motives for later on, they'll be a similar, probably shorter one for Lillith as the next part, but I'll see if I can slow hers down a little xD

Okay, can't wait

It's great. :) I have no advice yet.

*9 years ago*
Lillith
Mom always told me I was special, I know every parent says that to their child, but deep down I knew I was. My parents were special too. We have wings, but you can't tell it's a secret! No one's allowed to know. Both my parents tell me I'm even more special than them, because I'm good at hiding, they tell me I disappear when I try hard enough. When they ask how I do it, I just giggle and tell them that's my little secret.

I love my parents, I can't imagine life without them... but you see the thing is... a week ago some people dressed in fancy white suits came to the house and took Mom and Dad with them, and they haven't come back. They told me to hide when they heard a car pull up on the drive, they said I wasn't to move until either they came back, or the white suits were long gone. I was a good girl and did what I was told. I didn't move, I breathed as little as possible and waited. It got very late very fast so I had to get something to eat. I can't reach any of the high cupboards or the fridge so I've been eating biscuits all this time.

That's what I'm doing now actually sitting in the corner eating some chocolate biscuits. I heard the latch to the door click open so I sprang up and ran to the door expecting my parents to burst through, instead I was greeted by more people in white suits. They yelled at me and had pretty looking light sticks, they seemed to have finished conversing and turned their attention to me. one of them edged closer and struck me with their sword. I screamed louder than I ever had before, the light burned my skin, it was the worst pain I'd ever experienced this far in my life. These were bad people. I had to go to Touka, she was an old friend of my parents and I was supposed to go to her if I was in trouble. I ran up the stairs and into the hatch that lead to the roof. The suits followed me but had trouble getting through the small door. I unclipped the brace that held my wings down, they tore open the back of my shirt and I leapt from the roof, I was nearly a safe distance away from my home when a loud bang echoed in my ears and a searing pain started in my left wing. I was already feeling light headed from my arm that was streaming blood, but my vision went black as I fell from the sky.

I awoke in the daylight surrounded by ghostly black feathers and sticky from all the dried sweat and blood, my arm had stopped bleeding mind, but my wing had gone limp and I couldn't move it without nearly feinting again from the pain. I stumbled the rest of the way to Touka's, sticking to the shadows of back alleys and the cover of the vast forest that surrounded our small town. It took me two days and a few wrong turns to reach the worn down town house, Touka took me in and nursed me back to health.

*Present Day*
In the years that came to follow, I learnt of the Guardian's, and they're hatred fuelled hunt of Fallen Angels like myself. I learnt of the terrible fate that had befallen my parents. I learnt how to fight and how to defend myself. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, I left Touka's care and started my pursuit of revenge. I learnt how to be a part of civilian culture without standing out. The most important thing I had learned was the name of my parents killers, and that they had a son. He was their most prized possession, the most valuable thing they had. I will murder him.

I will take my revenge on those damn people.

I like the next bit too, maybe not as much as michaels but still. You're missing capital letters in a few places though.

Dammit thanks Alice xD

This isn't my cup of tea, but I must say you've described well.

Hallie wrote: "This isn't my cup of tea, but I must say you've described well."

Aww that's a shame but thanks anyway =^.^=