The Great Game (Original, Updated with Chapter Two)

[Montez]

Lock.

[Vairocana]

[spoiler=]In the early morning, everything was silent in the city, except for rain pelting on rooftops, a gunshot going off, and a lifeless body splashing into a puddle of water and blood [b](this should be multiple sentences. this is a really dramatic scene- someone just got shot! It deserves more than a list of stuff jammed into a sentence. Take your time. Develop the mood and atmosphere.)[/b]. [s]The gunshot was the only thing people of the city cared about[/s]. Moments after the blast finished echoing throughout the alleyways, the sirens began to go off.
A large man ran up to the body. It was one of a boy wearing an orange prison uniform. The man dropped his gun and knelt beside the corpse. His hands, shaking [s]from the cold rain[/s], struggled for a moment before managing to turn the person’s head over, and once he saw the face, the man laughed. He brought himself to his feet and laughed some more. His hand gripped his forehead. “I killed the wrong boy.”
“That you did,” said a voice from behind.
The large man twisted around and saw an old man under an umbrella. Wrinkles drooped from his face, and his short stature gave off a sense of frailness. He was blind in his left eye. The large man took a step back. “I didn’t know until after I shot, until I saw his face,” he started, smiling a little, “But everything matched, see? Prison uniform, around the age of sixteen, even this,” he bent down and turned the boy’s arm over, and it bared a tattoo of a bird right under his wrist. “Even the mark.”
“That mark is tattooed. The one we’re looking for has a scar.” The old man giggled and shook his head. “I told you who I wanted killed. I didn’t want this boy. Now, you’ve caused unnecessary trouble for me. This town’s a theocracy, meaning I got next to no control over these fanatics.[b](weak. This line doesn't sound natural, it sounds like the author trying to weasel information to the reader.)[/b]”
The large man’s smile disappeared. “You care about what this town thinks? This boy was a heretic to them. They would thank me if they could.”
A small car pulled into the alleyway, barely making its way through. It stopped beside the old man, who said, “It doesn’t matter what the town thinks. What matters is what I think. Now get into the car, before I kill you.” He smiled softly before bursting into another giggle.
--
When Nero first heard the gunshot, he whispered to himself, “How many people will have to die because of me?”[b](does he make a habit of talking out loud to himself?)[/b]
He rubbed the scar below his right wrist as he glanced over to the hole in the corner of his cell’s wall. The hole was small, but large enough to fit a starving teenage boy. Nero stood up and leaned against the stone wall. He glanced up at the small barred window right above him. He heard sirens in the distance.
He could escape. The hole to the outside was right there, only a few steps away. Once outside, hopping the fences would be child’s play, and the security never checked the cameras this early in the morning. If he made it into town, and he made the right turns and hid in the right place, then maybe they would not find him, maybe they would not kill him.
No. He was sick of hiding. He would just wait to be released. And then he would go outside and be shot down. It would be a fine way to die. A fine death.
The old metal hinges made a sharp creak as the cell door opened. Two armed guards entered the room.
Nero looked down. “Morning, officers,” he said, his arms up high.
One guard went by the hole, and the other approached Nero. The man shouted, “How long has he been gone?” This was just an intimidation tactic. Nero knew it did not mean they were actually angry.
Nero sighed and shrugged. “A half an hour.”
The guard by the hole grunted and pointed at the hole. “How’d he do this?”
Nero said, “I don’t know. I was thrown in here a few days ago, and he was almost done with it then. I think he used a rock he found in the courtyard.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?”
“I was afraid to run,” said Nero, looking down, shadows covering his face.
The guard by Nero sighed and glanced at the other one, who walked over and said, “Well, the kid’s dead now. Someone murdered him before we even knew the kid[b](repetittion)[/b] escaped. The chief doesn’t care too much about the escape, though, so there won’t be any charges pressed on your end.” They did not care because he was a heretic, Nero thought. This place did not care about heretics, that was why they did not bother pressing charges on Nero’s end. If they actually cared about justice, they would press charges, but since Nero was already locked away, that was all they cared about. [b](I'm not sure I understand)[/b]
“We’ll take you to a new cell,” said the other guard.
Nero nodded. He walked out of the cell with them. They were silent as they walked down the narrow hallways of the prison. Nero hoped they were placing him alone in his new cell. He had gotten lucky with his former cellmate, who was about Nero’s age, so they did not fight. But there was a pecking order in the jail.[b](all of these. sentences. are about. the same length. and it creates. a certain rhythm. while reading. that you do. not want.)[/b] He was new and did not know much about this jail’s particular social structures and rules, but he had heard horror stories about other jails, about how the stronger cellmate kills the weaker one because he was hungry.
Nero did not care about dying, but he was afraid of experiencing it. With death seeming close by for so long[b](awkward)[/b], for two long years of running, he had grown accustomed to it, and it had become a trivial matter of everyday life. But now he was so close to it, closer than ever before, and it scared him. [b]("when death was close, it didn't bother him, but now that death was close it scared him." This could be tweaked to make a little more sense.)[/b]
The guards stopped at a cell labeled seven-one-seven. They opened it and shoved Nero into the darkness. He stumbled about for a second before regaining his footing. The door shut behind him. [b](again with the rhythm. This could also be spiced up a bit, it's pretty dull to read "the door was opened. He went in. The door was shut.")[/b]
Nero looked up at the cell’s barred window, and he used the light shining through it to guide him to a corner[b](awkward)[/b]. He slumped to the ground and tried to make out the other side of the cell. The window directed light to his side of the cell, but the other side had no windows. [s]Darkness shrouded it[/s]. If anyone was with him, he or she was either sleeping or just enjoying torturing him.
Nero gathered some courage and said, loud enough to wake someone up, “Hello?”
For a moment nothing happened, and then he heard something move. It took Nero a moment to realize it came from behind him. But that was impossible. He was against a wall. He turned his head to the side, trying to see where the sound came from. Nothing but darkness.
As his eyes [s]became[/s] adjusted to the dark, he made out something small on the wall. It looked like a shade on the stone different from how the rest of the stone looked[b](awkward)[/b]. His eyes widened when he released what it was. It was a very small hole, no bigger than his fist.
He crawled over to it and spoke into the adjacent cell. “Is there anyone there?”
Nero heard a laugh come from the other side. A man’s voice answered, “Yes, yes. I thought I heard someone.” The voice sounded ruffled somehow. Nero crawled over beside the hole, bending his back over a bit so he could speak directly into it.
Nero said, “I just got moved here. I’m alone. Are you?”
“Yes, yes,” said the man. “You said you got moved? Why?”
“My cellmate escaped,” said Nero. “He made a hole in the wall of my cell, so they moved me here.”
“I overheard some guards from outside talking about the escape. You didn’t have time to escape?”
Nero glanced down. “No, no. I had time. But I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
Nero wondered whether or not he should tell this stranger what he knew. They were after Nero because of what he knew, [s]a secret[/s]. They did not want revealed to the people with the actual power to do something about it. Nero decided it would be no use. This man was powerless. Telling him the secret would just endanger him.[b](the guy just asked why he didn't escape (because he's tired of running), not why he was in jail or whatever)[/b]
Before, Nero could not tell his former cellmate the secret either. He warned him that it was dangerous, that people were after Nero, and how Nero and he looked alike, so they may mistake him for Nero. How he might die. Nero warned him plenty. Then why do I still feel guilty[b]?[/b] thought Nero.
Nero said, “I couldn’t fit through the hole.” It was a poor lie. He knew that. But it would work for the time being.
The man did not respond. He still had not moved near the hole. Nero could not see where the man was when Nero looked through. It sounded like the man was still talking from the other side of his cell. [b](vary. sentence. length.)[/b]
After some time in silence, the man said, “How did you get arrested in the first place?”
Nero sighed. The cell suddenly felt cold to him. “They thought I was a part of the Dirae.” He rubbed his scar.
“Thought?”
“I’m not with them. I didn’t know about them before I came [s]in[/s]to this town. I was traveling before I arrived here and got arrested,” he said. “I have a scar from when I was younger. It looks like the Dirae’s mark, apparently.”
A gunshot went off, followed by another. Nero stood and turned towards the window. It sounded like it came from close by. The stranger said, his voice careless, “The riots are starting up again.”
Nero ran over to the window. If he stood on his tip toes, he could see through the bars and down a hill, and down the hill was the city[b]("see through the bars and down the hill, to the city")[/b]. His eyes peering over the window sill, he saw people gathering in the streets and smoke rising. Everyone was talking and yelling at once. An explosion went off, causing some people to scatter.
The stranger said, “I overheard the guards the other day. They said that one cult was planning something. You know, the Dirae, that one cult you’re a part of.” He chuckled.
Nero continued to look out the window and said, his voice raised, “I’m not a part of them.”
The bandaged man[b](wait, how do we know he's bandaged? Nero can't see him)[/b] chuckled some more. “Of course not,” he said. “They said that they were planning something for today. Something big. I guess the rumors were true.”
Of course, Nero thought. Today was Columbus Day. The name brought back memories, of when Nero used to wake up early to watch the shuttles carry people into space, of when his sister used to tell him how she wanted to go up there. Nero looked up into the sky and saw nothing but gray clouds. He looked back down at the riots. He sighed and slumped to the ground. He did not feel like watching people kill each other.
Nero turned to the hole. “What are you here for?”
“I am like you, or perhaps not.” He chuckled. “I’m a part of the Dirae.”
“Why did you join them?”
“Ambition.”
“Ambition?”
The man chuckled. “You wouldn’t know much about that, would you?”
Nero sighed. “I know that it can get you killed. Or someone you love hurt.”
“It’s simple. Ambition is what wins wars.”
“You’re fighting a war?”
“Of course,” said the man. “But you wouldn’t understand it. Not yet.”
“How do you know you’re on the right side?”
“I don’t. Don’t you understand that it isn’t about being right? As long as my enemy is wrong, I am content.”
“Who’s your enemy then? People lie.”
“Bring in anarchy,” said the bandaged man, “and everyone loses their masks. Lines are drawn.”
Nero sat in silence for a while.
He heard a creak, and he turned around to see the cell door open. A guard stood in the doorway. He said, “It’s time to get some fresh air. Down to the courtyard in three minutes.” The door shut. Nero had been down to the courtyard a few times now, and it was just a large cell without a ceiling that had more cellmates.
“Come over here,” said the stranger. Nero walked over and bent down to look into it, and he saw a bandaged face looking back at him [b](1. I was under the impression that it is pretty dark in these cells, how can he see him? 2. Establish Nero a little better spatially. Last I heard, he was at the window, but then he was sitting (somewhere) and then he got up to go to the wall?)[/b]. The stranger continued, “Everyone probably knows about the escape by now. Word spreads quickly here. They know you didn’t go.”
“So?”
“You said you were [u]knew[/u] here right?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re going to kill you,” said the man. “Anyone who gets a chance to go takes it, or they die. It’s an old tradition of the jail.”
Nero’s heart sank[b](typically there's a bit more of an extreme reaction to death-- and we know he is still afraid of it)[/b]. Two years of running would end with him getting killed for being a coward. “Why do they care that I didn’t go?”
“The security here is idle, to say the least, and this jail is older than five times your age[b](awkward)[/b], but the people around here don’t like the same mistake happening twice. They see that hole your cellmate made as a wasted effort. Your cellmate found a weak spot and took advantage of it. Now that it’s going to be filled up, it’ll never be broken down again, or at least for a very long time. You should have taken your chance, because everyone in here is dying to get out too. They think it was selfish and stupid, so you deserve to die.”
Nero nodded. The rule did not make sense to him, but then again, not many rules made sense. He knew the guards would not help him either, even if they happened to go by the courtyard, since he was a heretic to them. [s]He was alone[/s]. [s]Two years of running, and[/s] he made it this far. It would be a fine death. Katherine would be proud, if she was still with him, if she saw him like this, starving in a cell alone. He laughed a little. Katherine would be proud. My sister Katherine would be proud. It will be a fine death. He repeated these lies over and over in his head.
The man said, “So you’re just going to go out there and die, then?”
Nero turned his head away. “I don’t have much of a choice. I’m dead sooner or later.”
“Well, I’m disappointed, Nero.”
“Me too,” he said. Nero’s eyes narrowed. He turned to the hole. “I didn’t tell you my name.” The man was smirking under his bandages[b](how do we know this?)[/b]. The door opened behind Nero. The guard grunted. Nero remained crouched by the hole.
The man said in a hushed voice, “I will be gone when you get back.” Nero began to stand up slowly. “If you have any will at all, go to the subway. Look for a short man standing next to a tall woman. They will help you.” He paused for a moment. “And remember, you can’t stop the furies. You can’t stop fate.” [b](that's good advice for someone who is about to die.) [/b]Nero stood up completely, and he walked over to the guard, who did not show any sign of having heard the bandaged man or seeing the hole[b](awkward)[/b]. Nero followed the guard down a narrow hallway.
Nero wished he had not heard the last things the man had to say. It brought back memories. But he had to dismiss thoughts about the bandaged man for now. He was going to die.
The guard and Nero reached the end of the hallway. The guard pulled open and door, allowing rays of light to enter the otherwise dark corridor. Nero was blinded for a moment and stood still, so the guard pushed him outside and shut the door behind him. Nero stumbled to the ground. He wanted to scream. I feel like a puppet. Being pushed and pulled everywhere for no good reason, it was getting to me. That bandaged man, what did he know about me? How does he know my name? I hate him. How he mocks me. No. I can’t let him get to me. I have to survive. Just like on the streets.
Nero stood up and glanced around.
There were about fifty prisoners in the courtyard. They stood in small clumps, as usual. A particular larger clump stood near the door, about a dozen feet away from Nero. An old man with tanned skin sat right beside the door. Nero sat beside him.
The tanned man turned to him. “They’re planning on killing you,” he said, pointing to the group nearest to them. They all looked older than Nero, but then again, Nero was one of the youngest people in the jail. The only people younger than eighteen who got locked up in this jail were heretics.
“I know,” said Nero. “Everyone knows about me, then?”
The man nodded. “Unless you do something, they’ll kill you. They’re in their twenties, and you’re not even eighteen.” [b]("they're in their twenties" isn't exactly the most threatening thing I've ever heard. And why are they so young? Since they have to be 18+, this isn't some sort of juvie hall. Where are the 40 year olds? The 50 year olds?)[/b]
“I’m sixteen.” Nero smiled. “I lived on the streets before coming here, and I’ve been on the run from some drug dealers since I was fourteen. This will be nothing.” [b]His[/b] words rang with confidence, but deep inside he felt empty. He knew he had never experienced something like this before. For once, he was truly alone.
One of the men in the group spotted Nero, and he whispered something to a man beside him. A few more men in the group turned around. Nero counted seven of them altogether. Two walked over to Nero, and the larger of the two pulled Nero to his feet and pushed him against the stone wall, holding on to Nero’s shoulder.
Nero tried to keep a calm expression. The man holding his shoulder punched Nero straight across the cheek. He said, “I didn’t expect that you were just a kid. You ruined it for us, you know that right?” He kicked Nero in the gut. The other man pulled Nero off the wall and threw him in the opposite direction, toward the rest of the group. He fell on to his jaw.
Nero rubbed his lip. Nero had taken worse before, but he knew this was just the beginning, and that made him afraid. He was a coward. The only way he would beat these guys was with numbers, and he was alone[b](getting a bit heavy-handed with the "alone" thing now)[/b]. Katherine was not with him. She could not save him, and he was not sure if she would want to, seeing him like this, accepting his fate. No. He would go out on a fight, like she would.
He struggled standing up. They were trying to draw out his pain. He would not beat all of them, but he would try, and he would at least hurt some of them.
He saw a fist flying at him out of the corner of his eye. Dodging, he extended his elbow and let the man run his gut into it. Nero pushed him to the side and blocked a kick from another man. Nero’s eyes widened as he was pushed forward, someone smashing a rock against his back, the wind nearly knocked out of him[b](ok, getting a rock smashed into probably warrants a little more than "widened eyes" and the wind "almost" knocked out of him)[/b]. This was it. He could not make any mistakes, and he just made one, so early on too[b](awkward)[/b]. Another kick to the side sent Nero flying. He landed on his arm. Lying still for a moment, he waited to make sure it was not broken. He forced himself to his feet.
His eyesight was uneven. He saw seven figures, and one of them said, “He’s finished. Take him out.” Two of them snickered. Nero wanted to punch them. They began to fade out, and they faded back in again.
Now he saw ten figures. He did not hear anything. Katherine.
He tried to call out, but his mouth was not working. Everyone was fighting. Help, Katherine. Nothing.
He heard nothing. People were fighting around him. He fell on to the ground and felt nothing.
Everything went black.
--
When he woke up, Nero said, “Katherine.”
A voice said, “He’s awake.” Nero recognized it. It was the old man.
Nero sat up. He was still in the courtyard, but there were only a few people still around. They were spread out across the place. Nero turned to the old man. A guard was standing next to him. The old man crouched down beside Nero.
He said, “Are you okay?” Nero nodded. He was beginning to remember everything that had happened. The man said, “Talk if you’re okay.”
Nero said, “I’m okay. What’s he doing here?” He looked at the guard. Nero did not recognize him from before.
“He brings good news,” said the old man.
The guard said, “You’ve been bailed [s]out[/s], son.” Nero’s eyes narrowed. Who would have enough money to bail him out? Who would care to bail him out? He then understood. Them. The people who killed his former cellmate, they bailed him out. They were tired of waiting, and taking him out of the jail was easier than putting some of their men in.
The guard turned to the old man. “I’m going back up front. Notify another guard when the kid’s ready.” He walked towards the door and disappeared into the building.
“Wait,” Nero said, turning to the old man, “did the guard say who bailed me out?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know. But you should be fine. We patched your wounds up.” Nero glanced over his body. Bandages covered it. His arm hurt the most.
Nero said, “What happened?”
“You collapsed. If they hadn’t have saved you, you would have died.”
“Who?”
“I figured you knew.” He chuckled, and placed his hand on Nero’s arm and turned it over. He looked down at the scar. “The heretics, the Dirae, in the courtyard saw this on your arm and saved you.”
Nero shook his head again and again. Why did they have to save me? I hate them, almost more than I hate the bandaged man, almost more than I hate the furies. Why did they not just let me die? I’m tired of being saved.[b](show, not tell.)[/b] “This is a mistake,” Nero said, his voice trembling, “this is a mistake.”[/spoiler]

[b]You seem to have a pretty good grasp on plot and story, you had a strong "hook" to start out, and you keep it interesting, teasing the reader along. The writing could use some polish.[/b]

[Montez]

I appreciate the editing and criticism. I understand what you're saying, especially my tendency to have awkward phrasing and similar sentence structure (which will hopefully improve in time). My writing style is relatively plain, but I'll try to make it less dull. Thanks again.

[Montez]

Edited chapter one. Chapter two will be up relatively soon, since it's already written.

[Dr. Cakey]

It's good. Not feeling any specific comments or criticisms at the moment cuz I'm tired and/or lazy. Just in terms of formatting, there was one place where you showed Nero's thoughts, which should've been italicized.

[Montez]

[quote name='Dr. Cakey!!' timestamp='1337870555' post='5946055']
It's good. Not feeling any specific comments or criticisms at the moment cuz I'm tired and/or lazy. Just in terms of formatting, there was one place where you showed Nero's thoughts, which should've been italicized.
[/quote]

You don't need to italicize thoughts. It just depends on the style and formatting. But technically, you don't have to, so I didn't bother.

But thanks for reading and commenting anyways.

[The White Wolf]

I'm not one for specific comments or criticisms myself, plus Vairocana said all that really needs to be said. I enjoyed it and am looking forward to the next chapter.

[Montez]

[quote name='Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad' timestamp='1337917603' post='5946522']
I'm not one for specific comments or criticisms myself, plus Vairocana said all that really needs to be said. I enjoyed it and am looking forward to the next chapter.
[/quote]

I appreciate the comment. I want to write a few more chapters ahead of time before posting Chapter 2, so it might be a week or so before the next one is posted, unless I post it beforehand for some reason, probably because I'm impatient.

[Dr. Cakey]

[quote name='Montez' timestamp='1337887984' post='5946208']
You don't need to italicize thoughts. It just depends on the style and formatting. But technically, you don't have to, so I didn't bother.

But thanks for reading and commenting anyways.
[/quote]

[quote]The guard and Nero reached the end of the hallway. The guard pulled open and door, allowing rays of light to enter the otherwise dark corridor. Nero was blinded for a moment and stood still, so the guard pushed him outside and shut the door behind him. Nero stumbled to the ground. He wanted to scream. I feel like a puppet. Being pushed and pulled everywhere for no good reason, it was getting to me. That bandaged man, what did he know about me? How does he know my name? I hate him. How he mocks me. No. I can’t let him get to me. I have to survive. Just like on the streets.[/quote]
Here you do need some method of separating the (internal) dialogue from narration/description. (Nowhere else so far as I recall)

[quote]The guard and Nero reached the end of the hallway. The guard pulled open and door, allowing rays of light to enter the otherwise dark corridor. Nero was blinded for a moment and stood still, so the guard pushed him outside and shut the door behind him. Nero stumbled to the ground. He wanted to scream.

[i]I feel like a puppet. Being pushed and pulled everywhere for no good reason, it was getting to me. That bandaged man, what did he know about me? How does he know my name? I hate him. How he mocks me. No. I can’t let him get to me. I have to survive. Just like on the streets.[/i][/quote]
Doesn't that look better?

Now I feel really nitpicky. =(

[Montez]

I think it just comes down to a matter of opinion. I personally don't think it looks better. To me, I find the italicization unnecessary, and since I've read quite a few published novels that use a similar style to mine, with no italicization for thoughts, I feel it's fine either way. It can be a little jarring if you aren't used to it, which is understandable.

Plus, I'm lazy. So I don't feel like changing it, haha.

[Montez]

Edit.