tot13
08-19-2009, 03:38 PM
First, my apologies if I've posted this in the wrong place - it didn't seem to fit anywhere.
Second, I'd really like your honest, scathing criticism about the following. I wrote this in my character's voice - I'm a lead guide at the Trail. The intention is to tellthis story to each group just before we enter the woods. My daughter is the only one that's read it so far and she hated it. She's actually the one who suggested I let all of you have a crack at this.
I really want this to set the mood, so if it doesn't, please tell me. I appreciate any constructive criticism. I'm thinking it's too long, but that's up to you. And any substitute for "Blackwood" would be appreciated as well.
TRAIL OF TERROR
Back in the early 1800's, a family referred to as the Blackwood Clan lived in this area. They were presumed self-sustaining, farming and hunting, with only a yearly trip to the nearest town for other supplies. As the years passed, stories about the Blackwood's continued to grow. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, and pale, each of them, they were a tight-lipped people and would only stare intently if spoken to. As unsettling as this would be, the locals soon learned to avoid and ignore the Blackwood's, which seemed to be exactly what they wanted.
Over the years, people realized that with as many as a dozen of the clan coming to town, with the exception of the supposed patriarch Silas Blackwood, seldom were the same family members seen more than once or twice. Where were the Blackwood's originally from and where were these new family members coming from? Needless to say, speculation about the Blackwood's was a great source of entertainment for the townspeople.
Interest in the Blackwood clan peaked, and not without a little fear, when they didn't make their yearly trek to town. Years passed and still no visits from the Blackwood's until the stories of the clan took on a surreal, almost mythical quality used to frighten young children into behaving and obeying their parents. As the generations came and went, people did what people do when what was always accepted as fact became nothing but "stories" to those who never witnessed the actual events. People stopped remembering the Blackwood's as real and lost their healthy, fearful respect of the clan.
Bored with small-town life, and full of the vim and vigor of all teens, young Billy Radsen decided it would be a great adventure to locate the Blackwood homestead and lay claim to it. How hard, Billy reasoned, could this be to find? As many of them as the stories said there were, it should be a pretty big settlement. So it was on a cool October morning that Billy and three of his friends set out to find the Blackwood's homestead.
I'm sure each of you knows what happened; the real reason all of us have come to this place tonight, or rather, you know as much as any of us can and that's all that really matters, what utimately happened to Billy and his friends. And the search party that set out to find them. And the next. And the next, until it was an unspoken agreement among the townspeople not to ever mention the Blackwood's or those who tried to find them.
So how, do you ask, did we come to be here each October? Because by now, you realize our destination tonight and the nature of what each of us will be faced with. Yes, the Blackwood homestead has been located. There is no doubt we are even now standing where once the clan farmed and hunted. Where whatever fate awaited the Blackwood's fulfilled it's destiny. Maybe enough time had passed that the forces that obscured the Blackwood's and prevented earlier detection, has weakened and exposed this place for the rest of the world to see. Or maybe it was just ready to be found, or maybe, just maybe, it was hungry again. And that's the fear I feel in my heart each time I come to this place.
Evil is tangible. Evil is real. You can feel it, almost taste it in the air here. And this place, it's like if someone tried to paint a picture of something they've been told about but never personally seen. All the parts of the picture are there, but something's . . . just . . . not . . . right. Something's off. I feel it everytime I get this close, and you'll soon feel it too if you haven't already. I'll see it in your eyes even if your words deny it, as your heart begins to pound faster and faster and your skin begins to crawl.
Enough of that. There's something else you need to know before we set out, not unlike Billy and his friends. Reality is like a membrane. And in some places of the world, it is thinner. Why? I don't know. I'm not sure that's even a good explanation, but it fits; it feels right. And the membrane is thin here. Very thin. The evil that lives in this place has attracted evils from our reality. They've been drawn here, just as Billy and his friends were, just as you or I may have been. We must pass these other creatures and beings, this evil from our world, before we reach the Blackwood Homestead. And if you feel the pull, the attraction really, of the evil here, then resist! Clamp on to someone close to you, and pray, just pray that they haven't already stepped over to the other side.
Second, I'd really like your honest, scathing criticism about the following. I wrote this in my character's voice - I'm a lead guide at the Trail. The intention is to tellthis story to each group just before we enter the woods. My daughter is the only one that's read it so far and she hated it. She's actually the one who suggested I let all of you have a crack at this.
I really want this to set the mood, so if it doesn't, please tell me. I appreciate any constructive criticism. I'm thinking it's too long, but that's up to you. And any substitute for "Blackwood" would be appreciated as well.
TRAIL OF TERROR
Back in the early 1800's, a family referred to as the Blackwood Clan lived in this area. They were presumed self-sustaining, farming and hunting, with only a yearly trip to the nearest town for other supplies. As the years passed, stories about the Blackwood's continued to grow. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, and pale, each of them, they were a tight-lipped people and would only stare intently if spoken to. As unsettling as this would be, the locals soon learned to avoid and ignore the Blackwood's, which seemed to be exactly what they wanted.
Over the years, people realized that with as many as a dozen of the clan coming to town, with the exception of the supposed patriarch Silas Blackwood, seldom were the same family members seen more than once or twice. Where were the Blackwood's originally from and where were these new family members coming from? Needless to say, speculation about the Blackwood's was a great source of entertainment for the townspeople.
Interest in the Blackwood clan peaked, and not without a little fear, when they didn't make their yearly trek to town. Years passed and still no visits from the Blackwood's until the stories of the clan took on a surreal, almost mythical quality used to frighten young children into behaving and obeying their parents. As the generations came and went, people did what people do when what was always accepted as fact became nothing but "stories" to those who never witnessed the actual events. People stopped remembering the Blackwood's as real and lost their healthy, fearful respect of the clan.
Bored with small-town life, and full of the vim and vigor of all teens, young Billy Radsen decided it would be a great adventure to locate the Blackwood homestead and lay claim to it. How hard, Billy reasoned, could this be to find? As many of them as the stories said there were, it should be a pretty big settlement. So it was on a cool October morning that Billy and three of his friends set out to find the Blackwood's homestead.
I'm sure each of you knows what happened; the real reason all of us have come to this place tonight, or rather, you know as much as any of us can and that's all that really matters, what utimately happened to Billy and his friends. And the search party that set out to find them. And the next. And the next, until it was an unspoken agreement among the townspeople not to ever mention the Blackwood's or those who tried to find them.
So how, do you ask, did we come to be here each October? Because by now, you realize our destination tonight and the nature of what each of us will be faced with. Yes, the Blackwood homestead has been located. There is no doubt we are even now standing where once the clan farmed and hunted. Where whatever fate awaited the Blackwood's fulfilled it's destiny. Maybe enough time had passed that the forces that obscured the Blackwood's and prevented earlier detection, has weakened and exposed this place for the rest of the world to see. Or maybe it was just ready to be found, or maybe, just maybe, it was hungry again. And that's the fear I feel in my heart each time I come to this place.
Evil is tangible. Evil is real. You can feel it, almost taste it in the air here. And this place, it's like if someone tried to paint a picture of something they've been told about but never personally seen. All the parts of the picture are there, but something's . . . just . . . not . . . right. Something's off. I feel it everytime I get this close, and you'll soon feel it too if you haven't already. I'll see it in your eyes even if your words deny it, as your heart begins to pound faster and faster and your skin begins to crawl.
Enough of that. There's something else you need to know before we set out, not unlike Billy and his friends. Reality is like a membrane. And in some places of the world, it is thinner. Why? I don't know. I'm not sure that's even a good explanation, but it fits; it feels right. And the membrane is thin here. Very thin. The evil that lives in this place has attracted evils from our reality. They've been drawn here, just as Billy and his friends were, just as you or I may have been. We must pass these other creatures and beings, this evil from our world, before we reach the Blackwood Homestead. And if you feel the pull, the attraction really, of the evil here, then resist! Clamp on to someone close to you, and pray, just pray that they haven't already stepped over to the other side.