Adventure Supernatural


Jan. 12, 2019
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Average Rating: 3.2
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Blood red brick stood out against the cerulean sky above the two figures below. The building rose higher than any of the other structures nearby. None of them could have hoped to hold a candle to the art deco castle that made its home on a corner in the historical district. The designs echoed of decadent parties and bathtub gin, of hidden booze tunnels dug down into the earth by mobsters, of bank robberies where people could sign their work. The architecture would’ve caught anyone’s eye.
At least it would’ve before time had grabbed hold of it. The red glass of the windows that had looked like rubies once were now cracked and shattered. Any large open space on its surface had been decorated with graffiti. Dark green vines crawled up and snaked around any bars the plants could grab hold of. The walkway that lead up to the large double doors, once massive squares of concrete with intricate designs had now been pushed from the Earth by overgrown roots and covered in weeds.
The remnants of the large sign on the front that declared the building’s old name had only managed to survive because it would have been extremely difficult to get to.
Fever had seen better days.
In the eyes of the two people that stood on the sidewalk the place still looked like a world of possibilities. They couldn’t help but stop and take a moment at the foot of Fever. The two of them could see passed the warning signs that announced it as condemned and into what it had been before. A night club. A landmark. A sanctuary. 
The shutter click of the camera broke the silence of the street. The man held a camera up to his eye and snapped a picture of the disgraced beauty in front of them. The woman caught his elbow and pulled him along.
“Come on, Alex. We’re going to be late. It will still be there later.”
The way the old woman held her cigarette reminded Alex of all the old black and white films he’d grown up on. This moment could’ve been a scene out of one of those movies. Cigarette smoke curled in the air around her, a bourbon sat in front of her, waiting. The two of them stared her down from across the table with notepads in hand and a phone set to record between the three of them. She was just as difficult as one of those women in the movies. Withholding would have been an underestimation.
“You two should drop it. Fever? It was a grandiose night club whose owner bit off more than he could chew.” The dark skinned woman’s voice was husky and rough. She used to be a singer at Fever all those years ago. The woman had long since killed that skill with the cigarettes and whiskey. Almost as if she was trying to tarnish the sound. Alex looked over at Mia next to him. His best friend. His partner in crime. She did a flick of an eyebrows that would have been imperceptible to anyone else. 
“What if we don’t want to drop it, Sheila?” Mia’s large dark eyes went back to the woman across from her. Mia didn’t like to take no for an answer. Alex looked her over for a beat. Mia had on her teal leather jacket to fight the cold, a pair of beat up dark blue jeans, her customary black combat boots and her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail to show that she meant business. Mia’s features were delicate but her expressions rarely were. Alex wouldn’t have wanted to be on the wrong side of her.
“We just don’t believe that’s all there is to it.” Alex leaned forward to cut Sheila off before she could open her mouth to answer. Sheila picked up the bourbon and finally took a long swallow from the glass. “I tried to make contact with you so many times didn’t answer until I left a note saying what it was about.” Alex shrugged at her to affect a casual appearance. As if he could just take for granted that she would cooperate with them. Mia turned her own glass on the table with two fingers.
“Why would you have taken the time, if that’s all it was?” Mia’s question was earnest and quiet. Sheila’s dark brown eyes followed Mia’s fingers as they turned her own glass of whiskey on the black iron table. The singer's shoulders rose and dropped with another breath. Her eyes dropped to the whiskey in front of her. 
“The place was special.” The words had a tone that said there was more to that story. Alex felt a swell of hope in his chest. “At Fever no one cared who you were, what you were, who you loved or what the hell you looked like, what color you were.” Sheila paused here and Alex felt empathy kick up him in the gut. Sheila must have seen the look on both of their faces. Neither of them landed in the majority.
“You kids get it. That’s one of the reasons you’re here.” She made eye contact with Alex again and he felt like he was the one that was being interviewed. This old woman saw more of him than he thought he’d shared. Alex cleared his throat.
“Fever has… kind of been our place for a long time. We broke in when we were younger; we did reports about it in school, I’ve got blood red pieces of glass lined up on my desk. We’ve been following the story for as long as we’ve been friends.” He gestured between himself and Mia, almost desperate for an answer. Mia started to speak as soon as he’d stopped.
“Almost like a song stuck in our heads. The place sounded like a dream. People wrote about it like heaven on Earth.” Mia pushed and Sheila let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. 
“It wasn’t nothin’ like heaven, honey. Frazier made sure of that.” A slip of a name. One they’d read on deeds and contracts saved for posterity. The stories specific about the owner of Fever were limited. Sheila inhaled more smoke into her lungs and looked between them. Mia shot Alex a look. One that was filled with a thousand questions.
“What about all the other stories?” He asked. Mia’s attention locked onto Sheila like a hunting dog. Alex knew that she searched for any twitch of an eyebrow, any anxious movement of hands. Sheila didn’t reward her for the attention. She stayed still.
“The ghost stories.” Mia pressed, impatient. “The urban legends.” Sheila’s focus landed entirely on Mia now. Alex hadn’t seen Mia shrink back from confrontation in years. She leaned back now.
“Like I said, you two should leave it alone.” The words were followed by smoke. Mia’s hands tightened on the table. Alex hesitated himself. This woman had already given them a lot. Alex took a deep breath.
“The thing is… every other place finds life in this district. Old buildings with far less to offer than that edifice. It’s history is rich. Anyone can see the potential. There’s a reason it lies dormant.” Alex put his passion into the words. The refusal to accept anything less than an answer. Sheila stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray on the table. Her hand wrapped around the glass of bourbon and she downed the rest of it in one large swallow. His next words were softer. “It doesn’t deserve that.”
Sheila’s stopped her eyes stared off into the distance. He imagined it was a memory the two of them couldn’t see. Her jaw relaxed and when she looked at him this time the expression on her face was gentle. Alex hoped she could see the longing in his own eyes. A story that needed an answer. She lowered the cup onto the table one edge and then the other. The moment stretched on. The silence hovered between the three of them. Her eyes dropped back to her glass and a rebellious smirk slid across her lips. 
Alex saw the young woman she could have been back then. All short, shining dresses, long dark legs and lungs. Anyone would have stopped to look at her.
“You know, you two are persistent. Frazier would like you.” She looked back up at the two of them finally. “Maybe you should go back and look one more time. Maybe that place just needs someone to believe in it.”
A low yellow light from a street light cast a pallid glow over a corner across from a homeless shelter. Dry fall leaves scraped across the cement as the wind tossed them around. During the daylight hours these streets teemed with people going in and out of the shelter and about their daily business. Now the streets were empty. Almost silent. Then it was broken by the futile sound of an almost empty cigarette lighter as it clicked over and over again. Sparks lit the face of a dark skin wrinkled woman that once would have been called beautiful. In one of her hands a bottle in a brown bag was held tight. A gift from two intrepid young kids that should’ve listened better.
“I don’t know why you even bother with a lighter.” The voice came from behind Sheila, and her shoulders squared off with a slow roll. The hunch of age in her back disappeared and strength appeared in the line of her body. She turned after a moment, and her eyes landed on a figure with a sweatshirt hood pulled over their head. The light outside wasn’t good enough to give any sense of the person underneath but there was a look of acceptance on Sheila's face. She knew them. The figure took a couple steps closer but Sheila held her ground, the cigarette between her lips. 
“That’s because you’ve never wanted to be human.” Sheila’s head tipped back and in the soft light she almost looked like her younger self. Defiant and ready. The figure hesitated as it walked forward. “Never known what it was like.” There was a plume of white breath from beneath the hood, a quiet sigh.
“Violet, why did you it? Are they the only ones?” A step closer. The voice started out soft then ended more pointed. A touch colder. Sheila took a long breath like she had taken a drag off of a cigarette.
“It’s good to hear that name again…” She paused and the two stood and stared at each other. Finally, Sheila spoke. “I’m tired. I’m ready. You’ve all been lost too long. They are the only ones…” Sheila trailed off and the person’s voice was tight when she finished the sentence for her.
“For now.” 
Sheila nodded and her brown eyes started to glow in the darkness. One an earthly green and the other the color of the sky. The end of her cigarette began to light with the glow of the ember. She pulled in a long slow drag of smoke as she stared the figure down. She didn’t look her age any longer. She looked strong. Different. The figure’s stance in front of her changed. One foot dropped behind the other and a glow appeared at the hands. Sheila let out a slow breath of smoke and she dropped the bottle to shatter on the ground.
Neither of them flinched.
The figure across from Sheila hesitated for several breaths. Sheila’s hands slowly got brighter. Waves of heat danced around at her fingers. Her stance changed as well. Her feet spread shoulder width apart. Her body steady. Then she lifted her hands up between them in what was almost a clap.
The darkness was cracked wide open with the snapping sound of fire. A plume of fire came at the figure in front of her and in a breath a sword was drawn up between them. The fire broke off around the ornate sword in two large orange plumes that blew back the hood of the person in front of her. A young woman with a strong clenched jaw and scars that cut across in a map across her face. Her dark brown eyes reflected the bright fire in them as if there was nothing else.
“You know,” The woman’s words were pushed through her gritted teeth. “I don’t want to do this.” The backs of her hands turned red from the exposure to the fire. They would be scarred, for the rest of her life. The fire around them went brighter, wilder. 
“Child, if you don’t then he’ll kill you. Thank you for giving me a chance to fight.” The woman’s eyebrows furrowed and she turned her head from Sheila, her eyes glassy and hidden behind tightly closed eyelids. Sheila watched the woman collect herself. Then a glowing gold dagger shot past the sword and slammed into Sheila’s throat. The fire puffed into embers that floated into the air and lost their light.
The street was dark again as a young woman caught an old woman in her arms. She lowered Sheila onto the concrete and brushed curls out of her face. The magical light in Sheila’s eyes dissipated. The woman let out a breath before she laid her onto the concrete. Sheila looked at her for the last time before all the light left her completely.

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van rated this work:

Jan. 21, 2019, 1:23 p.m.

First off: when the site soft launches and chapters become available, please please add the next chapters! I'm actually very interested in what happens next; you set up the world, the tone, and the intrigue very well. It's a strong opening with a lot of threads I'm sure will be amazing when they come together.
If you wouldn't mind some advice-- something that helps me in determining when to start a new paragraph is TIP TOP: TIme change, Place change, new TOpic, new Person. Sometimes, especially when someone speaks, you have a paragraph with many different ideas and it is confusing to follow. When someone speaks, I suggest making that one sole line.
I'm a sucker for urban fantasy. And an urban fantasy mystery? Sign me up. I hope there's more!!

Plot Setting Originality Sentence Structure

Comment Rating: 5.0

Nice beginning, end is jarring
naricorn rated this work:

Jan. 19, 2019, 4:05 a.m.

*I like the beginning, mostly. A couple typos, like "cut it's home," "walkway that lead," "could see passed." Just "cerulean" would be more concise. The last sentence of the first paragraph, "the designs echoed..." is lovely. I don't know about saying the building rose higher than the others and then undercutting it by saying time made it so that the architecture *wouldn't* have caught anyone's eye.

*Was confused briefly before I realized it was another woman in the next section, not Mia. Maybe have an adjective for her and/or place her?

*No need to keep reestablishing that they're best friends. Consider inserting details of their past together, like memories or indications that they spend a lot of time together (which you do, just have some hints earlier.) How'd they meet?

*There's a bit of emotional telling instead of showing. You do a good job portraying Sheila's wistfulness, but less is more here. A lot of the dialogue is good on its own--think about what gets the point across and don't add more play-by-plays of everyone's reactions/comments than you need if you think the reader might already get it.

*"The look of acceptance on Sheila's face said she didn't need help in identifying them" is what I mean. I don't think it's necessary, and if it is, it could be said in much less.

*The not human reveal was pretty jarring for me, since I hadn't had much indication beforehand that there was anything supernatural related to Fever. I thought it was just a really old place. So, now, the first two and last sections seem like different stories to me.

Is this part of a longer piece? Just curious. Thanks for sharing!

Plot Show Don't Tell Diction Concision

Comment Rating: 5.0

Kitsy rated this work:

Jan. 22, 2019, 8:44 a.m.

Thank you for the compliments I appreciate it. I'm glad this gets you interested in what comes next. That was the whole plan!

Also, I love advice and I will keep this in mind for structure in the future and try to make it easier to follow.

Also, I have several of the next chapters ready. I have a baby patreon page that I have been posting them up on. When it launches here I'll definitely share it here too. :)

Sentence Structure

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Awesome! What's your patreon page? I'd love to check it out.


Awesome!! What's your patreon page? Super interested


Awesome! What's your patreon page? I'd love to check it out.


Awesome!! Btw what's your patreon page? Super interested


Omg please ignore all my spam messages, I couldn't see that I was replying until now lol

Kitsy rated this work:

Jan. 21, 2019, 10:26 a.m.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. I sincerely appreciate the constructive criticism. I come from a heavy role playing background and I am trying to grow past that and it definitely shows in some of the points you've made here. I will keep these in mind in the future and while editing this and working further into the story.

I did want the transition to seem kind of jarring because the main characters aren't aware of any supernatural elements in their world. However, I could probably give some subtle hints with Sheila that might give a clue and tie the two parts together a little better!

It is part of a bigger piece. This is just the prologue for it. I'm posting it up on a Patreon and in various places as I work on the "first" draft.

Thanks for your time :)


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Strong dialogue, but characteristic descriptions need cleaned
cellerdweller2 rated this work:

March 29, 2020, 1:41 p.m.

The piece can be hard to follow, especially during characteristic details. The environmental descriptions were sturdy but more, regarding Fever, would pull the reader into the plot even further.
The reader may become perplexed about point of view during scenes where the characters are interacting with body language. For instance, it's hard to follow the actions of Mia and Alex as they're conversing with Sheila. Who is touching whose glass? This dilemma is revisited at the end of the story when the hooded figure appears behind the former singer. Feminine pronouns are used before the hood is removed from the mysterious figure, causing some confusion. To edit this, you could refer to this person as an "it" rather than "she" or "they/their" until her gender is made clear to the reader.
This story is very compelling and powerful in certain areas, like the descriptions of smoking, the display of the affects age has on Sheila, the unbreakable conviction of Mia. "Almost like a song stuck in our heads" is a beautifully powerful line!
As a reader, I would like so much more. It stirs generalized curiosity. If Fever's notoriety is painted a little thicker and if the ending wasn't quite as sudden and vague, this piece would lasso the reader in a relentless grip.
Well done!

Point of View Concision

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