[Archive] Help with my short story, please


Alright guys I’m writing a short story for a project that heavily involves the Super-Hero Genre. In a day I came up with this so if you could read it and offer C&C I would greatly appreciate it.


John walked home alone upon the cracked path-way leading back to his house. The sun was beginning to set, but it was already growing dim as he descended through the corn-field. If it wasn’t for the thin path he walked upon, he would likely be completely overshadowed. It was true that he had seen many darker nights, but the increasingly darkening sun-set made him feel uneasy. It was this single day that he feared the most out of every day in the week.

It had nothing to do with his family. For God’s sake, he wasn’t beat or abused when he got home. He knew kids like that at school and now he would gladly trade places with them. Some might have thought this was cruel and stupid, but in truth it was not. He had to deal with things man was not men to deal with. And he wasn’t even a man, only a mere boy of fifteen years old.

The sun went down a few inches with every step he took. Every step brought him towards his haven. His home. The single place on Earth he had desired all day. A place where he would be safe. It was true, it was only a small shack. Having only the bare necessities which didn’t include a bathroom, much to his embarrassment at school. But, his family was loving and that was all that mattered.

Except for the fact that they could not stop him. They could not halt his transformations. They could not halt would he would become. All they could do was lock him in the basement and hope he wouldn’t break out. That in itself was enough for him. It was what he knew he needed. He didn’t think he could take the taste of blood for one more time. He feared and hated it all the same. Each time it happened he could swear that he died a little. Each time, it desensitized him. He was growing colder and darker with each free transportation.

Each time he transformed he couldn’t help but do something to sate his bloodlust. He was not himself when he became the…thing. No! The monster! He was a monster in his second form. One that he could feel was slowly coming on with each step. Every step he took over the cobble-stoned path took him closer to the deep-edge. No! it took him closer to safety! He had to believe it…he had to keep going. His heart was speeding up and he could feel his whole body shaking. His clothes were drenched in sweat. Sweat that came not from the dissapearing sun, but from the sheer stress. The stress of both the body and the mind.

He tried to quicken his pace, but his muscles were starting to feel numb. He was becoming more uncoordinated with every single heart beat. It was painful, but the worst had yet to come. He knew the transformation stages by heart, but in all his years he had never grown used to them. He feel to the hard, stone ground, clutching his sides. His nails instantly dug through his flannel shirt tearing into his clamy, cold flesh. He screamed out in pain, hoping that his family would be waiting for him. Hoping that…he could kill them? No! The creature…was taking over. No! Not the creature anymore! It was not a creature anymore. It was a living being. It was a human…well almost. No! It was RipShred, the wolfman!

He spasmed out on the cobblestone path violently thrashing and rolling until his back was covered in bruises and thick gashes made by the occassional sharpened rock. His shirt had long since been torn asunder by such pressure, however the most disturbing thing were his worn out leather jeans. The jeans stretched until they themselves were ripped apart by the horrid transformation of his leg. What were once the regular legs of a teenage boy, where now the muscular and hair covered legs of a born-killer. Tufts of dark brown fur grew out until they engulfed his whole body. His freckled face, twisted and contorted into the face of a wolf. His teeth twisted and transformed until they were the sharpened weapons of a honed killer. His nose shrunk and his eyes enlarged until they were that of a primordial beast. His own shoes had ripped apart as his feet doubled in length and width. His entire body was covered in the thick brown fur in minutes.

He looked down at his hands through blackened eyes that were not his own. What he saw where the sharpened tools of a killer. His arms bulged with muscular veins that continuously pumped the forsaken blood to his blackened heart. He was an evil beast now and he knew it. His urge was simple…to kill. To kill! He could not fight it! He couldn’t fight anything while he was like this! His pondering left him as his bloodthirsty rage was interrupted.

“What the hell do you think that was?” A deepened, but startled voice whispered. It had a tinge of anxiousness to it, but he could also sense fear as well.

Kill! Must kill! His urge grew as every word was uttered by the startled voice. He was no longer alone. Now, he had a victim. It was time to rip! Time to shred. His pointed tongue lopped out of his mouth in anticipation of the bloodbath that he knew would come. The ripping! The killing! It would be magnificent! He had to start! He had to do it.

John, NO! RipShred, yes, he had to get used to it. It had been so long since his last change…nearly a month. This time…he would stay. He would not go! He refused to give in to the weak little human boy. But, he needed blood. He hungered for death! It would keep him here! RipShred drew himself up to his full height, using his natural predator nose to smell out his prey.

He smelled corn and chemicals. Chemicals used to cleanse the corn of insects, but the sweetest smell amongst these was the smell of tobacco. Tobacco and…liquor. He was sure of it! Even if it was contained in a metal flask, he could sniff it out. But, he wouldn’t need to use anything to find his victim. Several of the corn-stalks rustled as a man, no, it was several, as the men came towards him. Once more, he drooled in anticipation of the bloodbath, of the killing. He missed it. He craved it! He needed it!

A fat, middle-aged man stepped out of the corn onto the path with nothing but terror in his eyes as he laid witness to the beast that would kill him. He was covered by a thick, leather jacket that protected him from the increasingly strong wind. That was the least of his worries now. RipShred pounced for the kill, his claws easily shredding through both flesh and bone. He screamed for a minute before he died, falling back in the dirt, blood pumping out of the gashes across his chest and face. Corn stalks snapped and broke under the man’s enormous girth, but that was not what alerted the others. The deathly shrieks had already accomplished that.

“Jesus Christ!” One of the men shouted in both terror and disbelief.

Instantly he came face to face with the remainder of his victims. The first of the two was a tall, but skinny man wearing a rugged pair of over-alls. Noticeably, slung across his back was a hunting rifle. The man beside him was stockier and little well built, however he was just as terrified having a grip of steel upon the rifle in his hands. Before either of them could take the shot, he had pounced, tearing them to shreds in seconds. When he stepped off of the life-less corpses the blood was already dripping off of his claws. The bodies below him were decapitated and torn apart with blood staining the ground around them. It was brutal murder, the way he liked it. He licked the blood off his lips and savored it as drops of it clumped up in his fur. Need more! Want more! I want to stay! To stay! I need more!

Before he could further brutalize the corpses of his victims he was interrupted yet again. It would be a good night. One of bloodshed and terror! One that he would love and remember in all eternity as the night that insured his existance!

“John! John! It’s your father, Sheriff Tim! I’ve brought help! Where are you!” A voice that sounded strangely familiar yelled.

Then, he remembered! He knew! Yes! He knew! It was the weaklings father! The one that had engineered it all! The one who had engineered his imprisoment of RipShred everytime he transformed. It was thanks to him that he spent every transformation locked in a dank basement with no hopes of escape. He couldn’t think of a more evil man! He couldn’t think of a man who deserved death more than him!

“DIE! DIE!” RipShred rumbled in his inhuman, almost serpent-like voice.

He could almost imagine the men scrambling before him in both fear and awe of his mighty powers. He was a beast that they feared and respected! He would kill them all. He hungered for it so much that he could nearly taste there blood. His lust and hunger was unimaginable. He could sense them coming for him. They had regrouped and were coming to finish him off. He wouldn’t let them! He would kill them all.

He watched as the corn stalks parted reviewing the onslaught of his foes. It was nearly a dozen men, each one with rifles aimed and primed to fire. At the head of them was the vilest man, RipShred had ever seen. Sheriff Tim, fully swathed in his uniform marking him as a county sheriff. Tim was a well built and fit man hefting a metal shotgun that was nearly twice his size. It was sinister in both design and purpose. The men next to him were a highly assorted and rag-tag bunch, carrying a variety of hunting rifles and shotguns.

“What the hell is that?” One of the men cried out in shock.

“Shoot! Shoot it!” Sheriff Tim yelled in a commanding tone.

RipShred leapt into the air his claws ready for more blood. It would never come, the men opened fire with the guns instantly. Bullets tore through his flesh, sending bits of hair and flesh into the air. When he came down, he could not get back up. They swarmed around him, some firing even more shots at point-blank range. With murder in his eyes he looked up seeing them as they swarmed around him with chains and ropes. They were going to tie him up! He tried to lift his hands for another attack, but he couldn’t move. Kill! Rip! Shred! No, it would not happen due to a lack of energy.

Energy he had almost always had and wasted in the basement! The darkened basement where he spent most of his days! He would never feel the wind through his fur again. Never again would he smell or see the outside world. They were taking him back to his prison where he would rot for the rest of his life. He couldn’t see, the world, it was going black. With his energy and will expended for now he let out a lost and forlorn howl. The last one that would be heard on the surface for a long time.


The three men slowly walked the winding, cobblestone path. They had to be careful in the dark, because the rocks were uneven and cracked in some-places. The night was silent, save for the repeated heavy footfalls of the men and the creeking wheels of the cart. The cart that carried the beast that had brought them all out at such an hour. The wind was starting to pick up as the moon slowly moved into place marking it to be midnight. The corn-stalks rose around them, fully covering them from wondering eyes. It was nearly pitch black, but the moon had managed to illuminate there path. The path they continuously trudged quickly trying to get to there destination.

Sheriff Tim was tired and his uniform perfectly looked the part. It was stained and dirtied with a mixture of blood and dirt. Blood, that thankfully wasn’t his. It belonged to his poor, son and the three farmhands he’d killed He still couldn’t get over the fact that his son had did this. His own son for God’s sake! He had finally gotten used to the idea of his son being a meta-human. Meta-humans or mutants as they were often referred to, where something that were sweeping America. A disease or whatever the hell they categorized it as now-a-days, it had forced his whole family to retire to the backwoods. Especially after little incidents like this. His son had killed before, but he had never grown accustomed to the idea of it.

Speaking of his son, he looked towards the massive wolf thing that was his. It was inhuman, covered in fur that was now stained with bloods. However, the most disturbing qualities were the sharpened yellow teeth and claws. Each one was as big as a pocket knife and twice as sharp. Both were covered in a thin coating of blood. Tim had never feared his son, but seeing him in action made him do just that.

Tim looked to the two other men walking with him. The first was his other son, Jason, a tall young man with muscles hardened from working in the fields. His massive hands were enclosed around the chain pulling the cart. The small, ramshackle cart that was used to carry his brother. Well, his brother’s wolf counterpart, anyways. The man walking behind the cart was Deputy Mays, a fit, but slightly over-weight sheriff with messed up red hair and a freckled face. He was struggling to keep up with them, but this was mostly due to the fact that the wolf scared him. No one in the town had ever seen it.

“Can you please quicken the pace! I would like to have this thing in the basement before morning,” Tim said with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

“I still don’t understand why we need to take this…beast…to your basement. Why can’t we just kill it?” Mays asked casting a wary glance at the unconscious creature.

“This is a mutant. It’s not one of those beasts in B-movies! This could be a real person,” Tim answered, still obviously annoyed.

“I say we kill this mutant! Or better yet wait for it to change back to a person and hang it. Crazy thing killed Opie, Billy, and Jack,” Mays replied his voice cracking with fear everytime he looked at the beast.

“That’s against the law. The best thing we can do is lock it in the basement and hope that the government is here tommorrow with that special detainment unit,” Tim answered.

“If you two are done then I could use some help pulling this cart!” Jason, his second son, yelled.

Tim and Mays rushed to his aid and together the three of them managed to get the cart up the small hill in an instant. Now, they were face to face with there destination. Hobb’s house was small with blue paint peeling off in every direction. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but it had an excellent foundation and a basement that was nearly twice as big as any room in the entire house.

“I trust that you two can get him into the basement without any trouble?” Mays asked with a hint of urgency in his voice.

“Yes. But, why? Where are you going?” Tim asked.

“Damn, Tim? Is the stress getting to you or something?” Mays exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asked confused.

“Your son! Your son! He’s been missing since we set out with the posse you gathered up!” Mays exclaimed his face contorted into one of shock and curiosity.

“Yes. I am sorry. I’ve just been trying to keep that out of my mind,” Tim said awkwardly, hoping that he could pull-off the drama in his voice.

“Don’t worry. The whole town has been out this night looking for him! I’ll go join them if you don’t mind,” Mays said, slowly backing away.

Tim watched as he descended down the hill and waited until he couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore. With the help of Jason he easily lifted the cart and with little struggle or effort they managed to descend into the basement. The wolf was still unmoving, but the rising and falling chest signified that he still lived. The basement was a dark and cold place, but the most defining thing was its sheer size. The three of them took up nearly no room at all and they could easily fit in a dozen more people. It was a large place with room to spare. It would have been perfect for a storage room, but anything in the room while RipShred was in there would be destroyed. The only semblance of any furniture in the entire basement was a small water-trough and a set of torn blankets that resembled a primitive bed.

“Should we untie him?” Jason asked, while lighting up a kerosen lamp to illuminate the darkened basement.

“No. Keep him chained. We can’t be worrying about him at this moment. We can only worry about the town,” Tim replied, distancing himself away from the cart.

“I still can’t believe something like this happened. We’ve taken every precaution. We never would have expected him to come home late and transform outside,” Jason said sadly.

“It’s not his fault. Probably those teachers at school. Poor kid with all this stress is failing math and science,” Tim spoke out in a spiteful tone.

“We can’t deal with this anymore. We have to pack up and leave before the government gets here,” Jason said worriedly.

“We’ve already moved three times. This thing is interfering with our life. Your younger sister is to terrified to visit anymore. This damn thing has caused us to much trouble already! My wife won’t even stay with us anymore!” Tim said, his voice getting angrier with every word.

“Calm down. He’s your son! He can’t help it! None of these meta-humans can help it,” Jason replied soothingly.

“I’m not sure I can let this on my conscience anymore. I’ve been defending a monster alll this time. It’s killed people and driven my own family apart,” Tim snarled.

“We all agreed that Amy and Mom would be safer living back in New York with Grandma and Grandpa,” Jason replied trying to keep the terror out of his vvoice.

“Sometimes I wonder if it would make life easier if we just killed him,” Tim wondered aloud.

“You won’t touch my brother. You’d do well to remember that we look after each other in this family. You’ve always said it, so start doing it,” Jason snarled, his hand going instantly for the pistol worn at his side.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, I can’t believe we’re moving again. Everytime we settle down and things almost get normal we have to leave,” Tim said, his voice breaking down.

Jason moved in to comfort his father. It was so alien to him, almost all the time his father was cool and calm. He had never seen him cry, but he knew that his father’s emotional state had degraded since mom moved out. He never knew how close to the edge he really was. But, now he realized it. They had to get out of there. Before, the others returned. The sun would rise soon, he knew it.

“Get some rest, dad,” Jason said comfortingly.

“Have our suit-cases packed just in case,” Tim replied weakly.


John awoke to find himself covered in chains and rope. He tried to wiggled out of it, but it was useless. His body ached all over and he was shivering. His bear flesh was pressed against a mixture of smooth steel chain and rough wood. His head was throbbing and he could already feel the bruises setting in all across his back and chest.

“Your lucky your not dead,” Tim said grimly.

John squirmed around, startled by the sound. Such was the quickness of his movement that he almost tipped the cart over. He turned to lay eyes on his father for the first time in hours. His sheriff uniform was dirtied with dirt, blood, and even sweat. His face was devoid of emotion, however his sluggish appearance suggested that he was up all night.

“When did I get here? The last thing I remember was me transforming right before I could get home,” John said with a wheaze of pain.

“So you don’t remember the blood? The flesh? The taste of death?” Tim, his father, snarled with disgust in his voice.

“What are you talking about?” John asked, horrified.

“I forgot that you and that beast are two different people. I tend to forget that you don’t remember your time as it,” Tim answered with anger rising.

“I don’t understand you,” John said with confusion in his voice.

“You killed three men last night! Tore them to shreds and tried to go on a rampage,” Tim answered his face contorting into one of rage.

“It’s not my fault. It’s the teachers, they had another meeting about my grades!” John screamed, tears forming in his eyes.

“It’s a damn excuse! You’ve ruined our lives! My own daughter and wife can’t even live in the same house with you! You freaking mutt!” Tim screamed moving towards the cart.

He froze dead in his tracks when he heard the voice. They both turned simultaneously to face the newcomer. The intruder had completely snuck up on them and he had been listening for several long minutes.

“Both of you are under arrest. The Meta-Human Restraint Department are on there way now,” Deputy Mays said striding into the room confidently.

“Get out of my house right now if you know what’s good for you,” Tim said menacingly.

“That’s another offence I can add to the list. Aiding, abiding, and hiding a dangerous mutant and now it looks like you’ve threatened a Federal Marshal,” Mays replied smirking.

“Your a deputy and nothing more. I have no fear for a fat little want-to-be like you,” Tim snarled coldly.

“There’s sleeper agents like me all across the country. We investigate known spots where mutant activity has been reported,” Mays replied grinning even more.

“Where’s my other son,” Tim asked his face twisted into both disgust and anger.

“He must have cut and run. We’ll hunt him down there. I guaruntee that we’ll find him. We have warrants for every little mutant-loving freak in your family,” he snarled stepping closer and closer, brandishing his pistol with both authority and skill.

“You won’t touch my wife!” Tim screamed, lunging forward.

“I won’t, but someone in New York probably is right now,” Mays replied smirking, while taking aim with his pistol.

There was a sound like thunder, but it did not come from his pistol. Everyone in the room halted, curious as to who else had joined the fray. John watched, heart thumping in his chest, as Mays fell to the floor his face full of pain. Blood spilled onto the stone floor as Mays fell flat on his face revealing a bloody hole torn into his back.

“We have to get out of here,” Jason said, trudging down the steps into the basement, with rifle in his arms.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tim asked, horrified.

“He was going to kill you. Your lucky I got back in time,” Jason answered, obviously annoyed.

“What’s going on?” John asked with both fear and confusion in his voice.

“We have to get out of here before the government arrives. I’ve got the pick-up truck loaded with all our stuff, but it’s still by the road. If we leave now we should be able to be on a plane for New York by tommorrow morning,” Jason said hurriedly.

“We can’t just leave it all behind,” Tim said reluctantly.

“We’ll be with mom again. We can be a family again!” Jason urged.

“We can try at least and pray for the best,” Tim said, moving to John’s side where he quickly started to untie him.

They were leaving…again…