Graham's Chase

[Túrin]

In secondary school, I was considered a writer of at least some potential by my teacher. That, however, was not only in secondary school, it was a comment based on my non-fictional writings, and in addition was made by my Dutch teacher based on my Dutch writings. And, as the fourth and last downgrading of my own qualities, I suspect that teacher to like my writing mostly because it contained less spelling errors than that of most people in my class.

So my idea was just to write a short little something and see if anyone likes it, before committing myself to anything of serious length. So, please let me know whether you like it or not, and what things you think I can improve.

This also counts as a small style experiment in a style I have never written in before (the thriller genre) and is not particularly fantasy-oriented. I do want to start writing for my campaign setting, but Iâ,¬,,¢m unsure where to start as of yet. So here goes nothingâ,¬Â¦

Graham grumbled in agony.

The line was dead.

Quickly but silently he put down the phone. Already he heard the sound of the approaching menace. Just short of running he rounded the corner and entered the library. A glance revealed there were no other doors in this room; he could no longer flee. He hid behind a chair and waited for the monster to enter.

Against the wall of the corridor, he saw the shadow of the giant creature, wielding an axe the size no human could bear. It moved its head, looking around, and marched in the other direction.

Graham sighed in relief, and waited to catch his breath. He jumped to his feet, and peeked his head into the corridor. The monster was nowhere to be seen. He ran to the stairs as softly as he could, and went down two steps at a time.

Once down, he went straight for the front door. When he came there, he discovered that which he had feared he would find.

The door was locked.

Then suddenly he heard the booming sound of heavy feet again, this time making their way down the stairs. He nearly panicked as he looked over his shoulder and saw the shadow of the hunting beast. Just before it came into sight â,¬' in which case it would certainly have seen him â,¬' he hid against the chairs. Knowing it would certainly see him as soon as it arrived down the stairs, he looked around and found a small door, apparently the entrance to a cupboard or something similar in the space under the stairs.

It was his only chance. Graham tried to time his steps along the side of the chairs in an attempt to have them coincide with those of his axe-wielding enemy. He opened the door â,¬' he could only hope it wasnâ,¬,,¢t rusty â,¬' and threw himself headlong into the cupboardâ,¬Â¦ only to find out he was falling down a second set of stairs.

The ground didnâ,¬,,¢t give way, so by the time he was standing on his feet again, Graham was all black and blue, and more than a little dizzy. Adrenalin allowed him to ignore that for now, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed a screen of some sort glowing dimly to his left. He went to take a look, and cursed silently in surprise. In a corner of the small basement was a high tech computer installation, and on the screen it said:

̢,"Projection status: RUNNING
Light status: OK
Sound status: OK
Control mode: REMOTEâ,¬Â.

Graham started to laugh as he realized he had never seen anything but the shadow of the monster that was after him. This sick joke had lasted long enough, and now was the time to put a stop to it.

He walked back up the chairs, entering the hall again. Apparently his attempt at silence had been sufficient, as his menace was no longer there. Graham looked around, wondering where it could be, as he heard a noise in the kitchen across the hall. A few large steps took him there, and carefully he took a look.

Inside the kitchen, a man of small posture but with a long beard was slowly moving across the room, intently staring at a small device he was holding in his hand. Graham moved in, picked up a chair and smashed it to splinters on the head of the man before the other one had even turned around. He dropped to the floor, possibly dead, but at least unconscious for a while. Graham felt in the manâ,¬,,¢s pocket and discovered a key. Tired but with a satisfied smile he sat down on a chair, breathing deep to regain some calmth.

At once he remembered the others that had come with him to this dread place. If the monster was just an illusion, then what killed them?

Suddenly he heard a booming sound. Slowly he turned around. In the doorway stood a huge monster, wielding an axe dripping with blood.

Grahamâ,¬,,¢s last thought was: â,¬Å"Ah, that explains it.â,¬Â

[CYMRO]

You have a very good grasp of the subtleties of English prose.
Very nice bit of work.