Author Topic: any sugestions on how to make this fictional narritive better  (Read 194 times)

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Offline Eagertail

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The following story is based on a true (fake) story written by Chase Marstin. Names have been changed to protect the identities of those in this narrative, any correlation to persons or illness is purely coincidental, read at your own risk.
     “Well lets see here what should I do, what should I do, hmm” I say to myself as I stare out the window, nothing in mind in particular, just staring out at the landscape; a rainy, hilly, suburban, landscape. I can see lightning, and hear thunder in the distance, I hear stepping noises from behind me.
     “Seems like you're having a bad day sweetie are you doing ok.” I hear my mom, Ana, say as I turn back to see my mom—a short woman for her age, blue-green heterochromia, and long dirty blond hair—in a blue floral patterned dress.
     “Maybe you can draw something, Phylis.”
     “I don't know what to draw, nothing comes to mind, also my joints have been hurting lately, makes for jerky or weak pencil marks, plus it just stresses them even more” I reply in a melancholy tone.
     “Sorry to hear that hon, want some medicine to make it feel better?”
     “Yeah, it might help, I probably just got a cold is all.” I walk with my mom into the medicine cabinet to get some medicine in my system, I never have liked the chalky taste of medicine but I never said anything about it. “Ugh” I say to myself after drinking the red liquid.
     “Should be better tomorrow, if not we should go see a doctor, heard pneumonia has been spreading lately”
     “Doubt it though my system would just kick it out”
     “Well you did get a cold so couldn't it be pneumonia” I see her say
     “Well get some rest, tomorrow should be a good day, but you need your rest”
     “K mom, night” I say to her even though it’s only 5:50.
That night I dreamt I was in a big building, maybe a warehouse, full of pipes, vents, boilers, and the such. The pipes were continuously growing and making screaming noises, I saw the door that left this place, when I tried to run to it, no matter how fast I tried to run I couldn't move but a crawling pace and the pipes swallowed me whole, but I didn't suffocate instead I saw—or felt rather—my insides turning into pipes and liquid flowing through them, hot almost molten liquid flew through me, I clenched my eyes from the pain. Then at that very moment when I tried to open my eyes I no longer saw the pipes instead I now saw people all connected to each other by a arm or a leg they all were sad or in pain. I tried to speak but couldn't and whenever I saw another person, who was not attached to us we rushed to them and they also became connected, I then woke up.
I woke up stiff in the joints and I couldn't stop my neck from making soft ticking noises whenever I tried to move it I just did not want to get up, that was all—or was it. It was still kinda gloomy out—not rainy—just gloomy it was still pre-dawn, I decided to turn my head to see the clock, *CLICK* it was still only 6:30 in the morning I wanted to ask mom about the dream, but she wouldn't understand—probably it didn't matter I just had a weird dream, that's what they’re for right? I decided to go back to sleep I didn't dream this time when I woke up for the second time the clock read 8:18.
     “Time to get up,” I say to myself not wanting to. I try to keep my head straight up that way I won't have to hear that god-awful ticking noise when my mom sees me she asks,
     “What are you doing hon”
     “My head is stiff like whenever I move it, it always pops like very loudly” I reply causley
     “Hmm, we should go see a doctor about this”
     “Yeah maybe, but do we really have to”
     “I’ll make an appointment for wednesday”
     “What day is it today again, like sunday”
     “Yeah well I’m going to call Dr. Murdox”
     “Well alright then, oh, by the way why are you up so early?”
     “I was about to ask you the same question.”
     “Well I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, you?”
     “I was about to go to work.” She then went to the phone to call Dr. Murdox, after making the appointment she went to the car and left, I went to the kitchen to make some breakfast some cereal with actual fruit in it instead of the cheap artificial flavoring and some almond milk to go with it. I’m probably the only one who does this but I always fix a glass of milk for the side. After I ate, I brushed my teeth, made my bed, looked out the window, and drew some of my OCs although I didn’t do a good job at any of them, mainly because of my stiff joints and neck problems. Sometimes I forgot about my neck and every time I did I heard *CLICK CLIKK CLACK*. I can't go to school like this, I just can't. I don't care, what I need this…fixed. I put on some headphones and listen to music. Later that day my mom came back I told her “I can barely do anything with that god-awful *CLICK CLIKK CLACK* noises,” so she gave me a neck rub and she said,
     “Honey your neck is a hard as iron, no wonder why you can't move, Maybe we should reschedule the appointment for tomorrow”
     “I would love that, can it be tomorrow”
     “Let’s see what I can do, ok Phyllis”
     “Ok, love you mom.” That night I couldn't remember my dream entirely but i could remember some of the things in it, it had something to do with a huge lizard, some slimeball, a world in shambles and something about raining kittens. “YAWWWN” I popped my neck forgetting about *CLICK*, today I’t faintly hurt more than it did yesterday and it was louder too. Hoping my mom got a sooner appointment I got dressed which was hard to do on account of stiff joints. After, I noticed my dad, Frederick—tall for his age, hazel brown eyes and wearing a suit and tie—came through the door. I walk over to him and say,
     “So how was your business trip”
     “Tiring.” he says in his low, gruff—but kind—voice.
     “Oh I think I got the flu or a cold or something we're going to go to the doctors today”
     “Oh, well I hope you get well soon.” I went to go find mom in her room getting dressed.
     “Mom did you get the sooner appointment?”
     “Yeah, good to see you got ready.”
     “Oh, and dad’s home”
     “K, I’ll go and say hi.” After we got ready mom and dad talked, for about ten minutes filling each other in about their past four days. We left and went to the doctor’s office. Mr. Murdox—he was an old fella kinda serious white hair thin-rimmed glasses asked me couple of questions like
     “what symptoms are you feeling” “how stiff are you joints, and how often does your neck pop,” and “is your neck stiff” after all the questions Mr. Murdox thought I had something really rare something called SCP-217 he then gave me a containment paper about it. I didn't get the first part of it, but Dr. Murdox said,
     “Sorry but it was the only paper on the subject matter that I could find, you don't have to read it, but you should”
***

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Item #: SCP-217

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures:
Containment area is to be kept behind two reverse-pressure airlocks. Chemical shower sterilization, fully contained-atmosphere haz-mat suits, and 24-hour post-interaction quarantine and testing are mandatory for all personnel entering containment area. Should containment be breached, the blast door for the containment and research area will seal, and chemical agent ZEER-217-11 will be pumped into the air. Any humans exposed to SCP-217 are to be contained and held for observation. Any items touched by those affected by SCP-217 must be sterilized.

Description:
SCP-217 is a virus, incurable by current means, with a rate of infectivity at 100%. It affects all organisms in the kingdom Animalia, and can be spread via touch or contact with bodily fluid. SCP-217 is very hardy, and can survive for years outside the host body. The progress of the infection is very slow, with some subjects going several years before manifesting any symptoms.
SCP-217 alters the biochemistry of organic tissue, causing organic matter to rearrange into a form of “organic metal”. The processes involved with this change are not yet fully understood, but the advanced stages are well documented. A subject will begin to turn into a complex arrangement of gears and clockwork, these taking over for the former biological functions. Advanced-stage infection is reported to be very painful, but earlier stages are oftentimes unnoticed, with only vague feelings of confusion, insomnia, and joint stiffness. Hearts are replaced by gears and small tubes, joints by gear network's, eyes by structures not unlike primitive “hand-crank” film cameras, etc.
SCP-217 shows first on the outside of the body in all creatures except mammals. In mammals, it first converts the internal structure before manifesting outside the body. This can cause those infected to go for very long periods of time without knowing of infection. SCP-217 has even been shown to totally convert the inside of the body before showing any externally-visible symptoms. SCP-217 has infected several major metropolitan areas in the past, most notably ████████████.
The mental state of those in middle to advanced stages of infection has been shown to be much diminished. Subjects respond in a repetitive fashion, are very dull and mechanical in action, are easily distracted and confused, and appear generally irritable when faced with new problems. In addition, research on a fully “converted” brain has [DATA EXPUNGED]   

Document #217-6: Notes on symptoms
Subjects infected by SCP-217 have, at early stages, reported no major symptoms, aside from increased lethargy, and a general lack of emotional response. Some have reported a feeling of “fluttering” or “moving” under the skin, coupled with a persistent “ticking” noise. This noise seems most prominent when SCP-217 infects the shoulders, neck, and head; however, it is audible if recording equipment is pressed against an affected area.
Initial infection of SCP-217 is, as has been already stated, almost undetectable. As the infection advances, subjects will begin to feel sharp, “tearing” pain in areas that are being “converted”. It has been compared to a knife wound or a deep muscle tear, and can persist for hours, or several days, depending on both the subject and the area affected. The new clockwork organs appear to tear and rip at tissue for a short time, before becoming fully integrated and settling into the surrounding tissue, and this is believed to account for the pain.
Areas infected appear to be metal, mainly brass, steel, and iron. Other substances have been reported, appearing to be leather, rubber, glass, wood, and other basic materials. Despite appearances, it is purely organic material, and even carries a subject’s DNA. Organs and tissues affected appear more resilient than normal, carrying the same strength and density as the materials they resemble, instead of normal tissue density. Areas damaged repair over time, but is much slower than standard human regeneration.
Damaged areas can be instantly “repaired” by replacing damaged areas with new parts of the same type. Testing has shown that there are no ill effects if parts made from normal materials (steel, wood, leather) replace the existing bio-mechanical clockworks.
Most alarming, people infected with SCP-217 can continue for months, even years, without being detected. With infection so easy to spread, hundreds could be affected before proper containment could be enforced. Infection appears to spread most quickly in large offices, malls, and other large concentrations of people.
Note: Anything or anyone suspected or confirmed to be infected with SCP-217 is NOT to be allowed near SCP-882.
Addendum: At this time, cross-experimentation between SCP-229 and SCP-217 is allowed only with O5 approval.

   (You can read more about this SCP and others at http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-217)

Thank you for your cooperation
      -SCP Foundation-

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

***

After that he offered his professional opinion that I get an X-ray, I didn't know what to do, mom
was in shock, I turned my head to look at her, when I do *CLICK CLACK*
“Wait did you hear that Miss Ana, can you please move your head again Phyllis.” Dr. Murdox said worriedly
     “Ok, but it kinda hurts” I move my head again *CLICK CRACK*
     “I should have known we need to get you a X-ray now, miss Ana we need to leave the room now,” when she refused Dr. Murdox said “NOW MISS ANA.” they left the room but they stayed close to the door, I can hear them talking about how I need to be in containment.
     “Have you drank after her”
     “No I haven't, she stayed in her room for the most part”
     “Have you two came in contact?”
     “No, not any time recently”
     “Have you been feeling any of the same symptons your daughter has?”
     “No.”
After about two hours later two hazmats came in holding a third hazmat suit they instruct me to put it on so my mom and Mr. Murdox don’t become infected. I put it on and they take my to a X-ray device they instruct me to lay on my back and to not move a MUSCLE, so I do after like ten minutes they show me the X-ray and I’m aghast to see where my joints were they had been replaced with gears and my neck muscles with gears, springs, a pulley and other clockwork. I re-read the symptoms section only to see that I am indeed infected the hazmat people show me to a hazmat truck not needing a que a walk in the back I ask them if I had to go away forever and if I can get cured one pointed me to the “SCP-217 is a virus, incurable by current means, with a rate of infectivity at 100%” I started to cry all of a sudden the truck screeched to a holt my face hit the seat in front of me, I blacked out, what came after that I had a dream I was in a coo-coo clock and i became the bird and I couldn't move, I couldn't remember the rest. I woke up in a cell—not a cell more of a room, my room! Or so I thought for a moment before I saw my—the door it was a airlock and a speaker in the top left of it.
     “Oh good you're awake you're in containment I hope it is to your liking sense you won't be ”home” anymore we made your containment cell as comfy as possible and if you need anything just ask.” says a man on the intercom.
     “I want out.” I say harshly
     “We can let you as far out as the cell grounds but you will have to put on a special hazmat suit” he says calmly not paying attention
     “What’s so special about” I say puzzled
     “It has a keypad lock on the neck so it’s a bit uncomfortable”
     “Can I try it on”
     “Sure, and when you do we can show you around the facility and faculty.”
     “Alright, so I’m guessing they're going to come in wearing hazmat suits and help me in to my hazmat suit”
     “You're right, after that we just have to sterilize the outside of the hazmat suits when you get out of your room” A few minutes later a person wearing a hazmat suit holding a spare that was my size―was different from the ones I saw earlier the ones before were a ugly neon orange color, the ones I now saw are a very easy to look at whitish greyish color. So i’m guessing the spare is for me. the girl under the hazmat suit nodded and helped me in. After that I got past the first door into a sterilization bath once that was over the girl in the hazmat suit took off hers and I could see her face and name badge, Marissa, it read she showed me over to the dining hall and showed me to the staff they all stated how they felt bad to me infected with SCP-217 and wished me luck they all seemed nice i could even talk to my mom and dad over the phone.
After eight years I soon became apart of the staff and even became a class 4 operative I could’ve even became a 05 operative if it weren't for my condition I still live in my quarantined room and I still hear that *CLICK* noise in my neck. Nearly all of my insides have been converted and the pain that happened during conversion was unbearable, I’m now being converted on the outside too, so far I am 30% machine on the outside and 85% machine on the inside. I’ve since learned the meaning of my pipe dream; my blood vessels were becoming converted during the time of that dream and so it reflected into my dream. There is still no cure to my disease, and I don't think one exists.
« Last Edit: May 04, 2017, 11:07:50 pm by Eagertail »
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Re: any sugestions on how to make this fictional narritive better
« Reply #1 on: May 04, 2017, 11:24:36 pm »
Duane read the whole thing, but puncuation would sure help XD some sentences you have them and some you don't? It seems a bit amateur (not to insult you) and the first step to writing a good story is to be grammatically correct.
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