Jack the Ripper - Comments

This is really good!

Story/Review Game:

Cobweb's Jack The Ripper

The beginning for me started out somewhat ruff and I could get into the first paragraph as much as I would have liked.

"As my body lay cripple on the floor, I see you from the corner of my eye. If could turn away, I would, but my body is incapable." - You have an error in that sentence that made the flow seem off. But towards the end I love how just in those few words, it described so much.

"Hell, for all I know you could just be helping them finish the job." - I like the relationship you have here, to me it kind of seemed undone and mysterious, which makes me want to know more about what's going on. I know that this is a ferard and I don't know if it's Frank or Gerard's feeling I'm reading about.

I think it's Frank who's telling the story and he seems to have a young mind, like 15. I sense his vulnerability and he keeps referring this place Gerard is taking him hell

"They remind me of you’re eyes, and the first time you kissed me on my nineteenth birthday. I wonder if my twenty second birthday is coming up soon… " - You have a grammar error in this sentence.

I find this story rather odd, but in a nice way, because you do have potential in your writing, but some parts just don't flow smoothly enough and it threw me off a little. The part where the unknown person, who I think is Gerard, but not really sure anymore and they were in the car, didn't make sense to me.

" The windows are lightly fogged, and cold to touch, as they sported various salt stains. With my moist finger, I drew a small heart on the window with a slow sigh. " - In my opinion imagery is your best part in the story and it's honestly remarkable, truly.

"This time my legs are around your waist, but I still feel as safe as I did when you were cradling my body and head." - Pretty ironic, huh? he feels safe, when he's really not.

What happened to three of three??? Just asking. No pressure to write it though. Really.... :shifty

***The comment I left before was just... ah. I really want to re-comment.

FIRST CHAPTER

As my body lay cripple on the floor, I see you from the corner of my eye. If could turn away, I would, but my body is incapable. The concern resting in you eyes shocks me. You, concerned for the man you sold out only a few days ago? You take my bruised hand and begin to rub it lightly as I whimper through clenched teeth, wanting to get away from you. “You look so tired.” You say bluntly as my mouth grows wide as waves of exhaustion and pain wash over me. Tired? Is that the best word you can come up with? Try: beaten, broken, used, and violated.

I think this was the best opening paragraph I've ever read. The raw emotion you were able to capture amazes me. I can just picture Frank laying there, beaten and broken and it breaks my heart. That's how strong the image is.

You carry me carefully, cradling my head in a perfect way. I almost feel safe in you arms. You keep telling me to hold on.

You make it sound like Frank is a small child in the beginning of the paragraph. Frank; the small child, Gerard; his protector. It's heart warming.

But then it becomes heart wrenching.

I keep retorting: “What’s left for me to hold on to?” You shrug everything off though, still taking me where ever you wanted. Hell, for all I know you could just be helping them finish the job.

That one line “What’s left for me to hold on to?” makes me want to cry. Again, the emotion you were able to capture is just amazing.

I forget how beautiful October is, with the all the golden leaves lining the roads. They remind me of you’re eyes, and the first time you kissed me on my nineteenth birthday.

That was just adorable. It really was.

The sky soon turns to a velvety black, and all is quiet in the car. We must be in the middle over no where, I mean the only visible light for miles in the piercing brightness of your headlight.

I actually felt a bit of peace with that. It reminded me of when I was younger and my family would take road trips. I miss those days.

With my moist finger, I drew a small heart on the window with a slow sigh. It is a lovely shaped heart and all, it is even stained red with my blood, it just makes me sad to think that there isn’t real love in this world anyway…

That was just so beautifully morbid. I think it was my favorite part of this whole chapter. And that's saying a lot cause the chapter was just beautiful in it's self.

This time my legs are around your waist, but I still feel as safe as I did when you were cradling my body and head.

Again, the innocence you were able to capture in a not so innocent story just amazes me like none other.

My heavy chin is resting on your shoulder and with each step that you take you hold me a little tighter.

This reminded me of my favorite Mayday Parade song. Just thought I'd let you know. :tehe:

SECOND CHAPTER

My head pounds as another wave of excruciating pain washes over me. The words of my torturer ring in my ears as my body beings to shake again. “It’s astounding how much pain the human body can endure,” he says. “But something I’ve found to be more miraculous is that your small heart still beats with hope. You think he’s going save you don’t you?”

Can we say "bone chilling"? Almost makes me not want to go to sleep from the sound of the man's voice my imagination created. Husky, scratchy, and just terrifying almost. Well done.

“I-I’m scared…Please don’t hurt me.” I whisper helplessly, trying to find you through the darkness.

That line almost brought tears to my eyes. I could almost feel the fear that seemed to be in Frank's voice. It made him seem so small and helpless, it makes me sad.

I lift up my left hand in order to comfort you and you grab it gently and kiss my bruised knuckles. Your fingers fold through mine and you look at me momentary, guilt etched into every one of your features. You are sorry.

That was really touching. The way Gerard seems to hold so mush caring and sorrow for Frank. I could just feel the guilt you were able to write into Gerard.

Next thing I know your fingers are delicately squeezing the end of my gash and you plunge the needle within my quickly.

I'm not scared of needles or anything, but that just made me cringe in the most brutal and best way possible.

I really hope I didn't ruin everything by writing this.

You didn't ruin anything at all. You are an amazingly beautiful writer and I can't wait to see how this ends.

You are just so great at capturing emotion it makes me feel like I can feel it myself.

Amazing job, love.

I really liked this. I already assumed that I would since I've liked everything you've written so far. So, here goes my semi-long comment.

I forget how beautiful October is, with the all the golden leaves lining the roads. They remind me of you’re eyes, and the first time you kissed me on my nineteenth birthday. I wonder if my twenty second birthday is coming up soon…
I thought this line was beautiful in a very sad way. what I'm taking from it is that Frank thinks he's going to die. Correct me if I'm wrong. I also like how something as small as a leaf, can hold such significance. I don't know how you do it but you make small things seem so big...it baffles me. In a good way.

Next I liked this part With my moist finger, I drew a small heart on the window with a slow sigh. It is a lovely shaped heart and all, it is even stained red with my blood, it just makes me sad to think that there isn’t real love in this world anyway…
Ahh...great. You're seriously going to make my head explode in amazement. sweet jesus where do you come up with this shit. It's like fucking shakespear on crack. In the best way possible. the line is so powerful and truthful in a sense. I don't really even know what to say about it except I really wish I could see if you have a mini-dead crack head writer in your brain, because this is just remarkable.

When you describe things you have a way with making me feel like I'm there. It's amazing how you do that. When you described the apartment in the beginning of the second chapter I saw exactly what you were describing in my head, it felt that real. I didn't have to struggle to get a clear picture of the apartment or anything. It was that easy, and for that I thank you.

Your fingers fold through mine and you look at me momentary, guilt etched into every one of your features. You are sorry.
I really liked how this Contradicted everthing Frank was thinking in the first chapter. Once again a big thing in a small package. I love those.

I can't wait for the third one. I am assuming there is a third one since this was 2/3. I adore you and your writing very much. ::hugs!::

I aboslutely adore this, whatever-your-fucking-name-is
You see, that is the part where you praise the person who has written an amazing story by saying "This is amazing -insert name here-" but unfortunatly I DON'T KNOW YOUR FUCKING NAME! :D

Okay, I"m done.
I love this.
I love you.

::hugs::

And I begint to fade into our secret place...

Flyleaf? Cause I recognized it and it was beautiful the way you used the lyrics, wether you meant to or not.

I'm happy you continued! I really am! It allows us to get more out of a story that can give more and still be everyting that it is supposed to be.

I look forward to the final installment. Your writing just thrills me! <33

xoxo
Krank-i-nator

Wow... You're seriously one of the most talented writers I have ever ever come across!
This story... just wow. I love the tense that you've written it in - it really has a great effect, and is perfect for the story.
The reader feels so bad for Frank.. Well I know I do anyway! :XD And I'm glad Gerard is helping him, even though it seems as though he had something to do with Frank getting hurt in the first place.

So happy you're writing more... Can't wait!

xoxoxoxox

Wow.
You are such an amazing writer. Everyone of your stories takes my breath away, seriously. You capture every moment with such detail, and creativity it's unbelievable. It's like you're standing there watching almost. You have an amazing talent, love. I wish I was as good as you
:arms:

Get ready for a very long comment. :) No joke.

With a few kicks to your familiar defected door, it unbolts and you take me to the glass table in the middle of your two-room apartment. You stuff something soft behind my head and scurry off into the bathroom, leaving me to take in the scenery. Cardboard boxes and white sheets covered with dust linger about the room leaving the air thick and putrid. I can almost feel the dirt from months of neglect fill my gashes making them tingle and burn.

:cheese: Imagery is powerful and dark here, capturing exactly the atmosphere and events, reflecting them blatantly.

My head pounds as another wave of excruciating pain washes over me. The words of my torturer ring in my ears as my body beings to shake again. “It’s astounding how much pain the human body can endure,” he says. “But something I’ve found to be more miraculous is that your small heart still beats with hope. You think he’s going save you don’t you?”

I’m glad you didn’t go into pain overdrive as many authors may fall into doing. You simply conveyed the excruciating pain Frank may have gone through in his ordeal. Sometimes too much description can be such a turn off.
Aww, I can just imagine Frank’s fragile little heart beating for hope.

I squeeze my eyes shut as images of what happened after that begin to flood my head. I move my body upward slowly, my wrists still believing that they are bonded together, and I slip off the table only to collapse on the floor. Tears of desperation roll my cheeks as I grope ahead of me and thrash my feet around behind me in a frantic effort to move.

This is like a vivid movie. Seriously. I can see everything playing right in front of me. I just admire how you know exactly when you need to let the reader imagine their own style of event, and when you want to describe the most helpless of motions to grab attention. Your vocabulary is refreshing too. Sometimes people use verbs and adjectives that stand out, but sometimes those ideas to use words that wouldn’t normally be seen in the particular situation just flop. It doesn’t happen to you. Did I mention I especially like how you said that his wrists were the ones believing they were bonded? Because anyone can see his mind isn’t quite functioning and he’s left victim to only his impulsively learnt behaviour.

…Now if only I had some pop corn ready for the reading of this.

“Stop!” I hear someone yell as they grab my legs, trying to secure them. I look behind my shoulder and see a face, only it isn’t you. I yelp as he brings me in his arms and takes me to the metal slab that has suddenly appeared in the room. He locks my hands and feet in metal clamps on either ends of the rolling counter, and I watch him as he rummages through a kit, noticing his white lab coat is stained red. He turns and I see a large injection needle between his fingers and an evil smirk playing on his face.

“Oh God please, don’t! P-lease…” I break down into pleas, as my mouth hangs open wide with anguish.

:gasp: oh no! That sounds horrible. Like Frankenstein or something. Haha. I actually imagined the lab coat soaked in blood. :shivers: It felt so gross in my mind.

“Frank, w-what’s wrong with you?” You weep as your hands pull away from my chest. I look up at you, as my breaths grow shallow and sweat drips from my brow, and I see that there is no needle in your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me…Gee.” You voice, as your hands move toward me again. I use all my might to slap your hand away in fear, and I try to move, but we both now its useless. I guess I’m at your mercy. I’ve always been at your mercy.

know
Sorry to point out a typo. It makes me feel really stupid and patronizing, ‘cause obviously when you re-read it over, you didn’t make the mistake purposefully, just a little typo that occurred in your rush. Meh.

I can relate with Frank about the whole confusion of who this ‘torturer’ is and whether he’s like Gerard. The way you blur in Frank’s thoughts to Gerard’s action make it all dream-y and illusive, so it sets the correct tone to the piece.

“I-I’m scared…Please don’t hurt me.” I whisper helplessly, trying to find you through the darkness.

“I’m trying to help.” You croak huskily tearing my shirt open as I’m distracted by your words. Your eyes fall upon my chest and you start to wheeze as the overwhelming sight of blood starts to consume you. I lift up my left hand in order to comfort you and you grab it gently and kiss my bruised knuckles. Your fingers fold through mine and you look at me momentary, guilt etched into every one of your features. You are sorry.

Excuse me while I sniffle. *sniffles* That’s really sweet and heart wrenching. Frank keeps coming out of this need for Gerard and fear of this ‘torturer’ that I’m always on the lookout for when this next new distorted image of Frank will come up and ruin the sweet moment. Basically, as you intended, I’m on the edge of my seat, hoping Frank overcomes his fear and realises he’s with Gerard who can help.

Also liked the way you just made the ‘You are sorry’ tacked onto that. It seems to give this sense of childish response by Frank. As if though he’s analyzing actions slowly and realizing things at a snail pace and the reader becomes a little more accustomed to the narrator’s view. I notice that some people, including me, put emphasis on actions of the characters, rather than their internal thoughts and speculations, which can help the reader a great deal about internalizing the character’s point of mind. Like now, I’m starting to settle into Frank’s clouded mind about what he’s been through and losing his trust, fearing that this is just his imagination – his want getting in the way of reality about needing to be safe in Gerard’s arms.

You let go little by little and touch the underside of your nose as you sniff a little*. You look down to the ground and bring up a large damp cloth and place it tentatively on my body. I wince a little as I suck air through my clenched teeth and you look at me apologetically and begin to wipe away the cherry liquid. Once one of my few large lacerations is clean you take the towel off me, leaving my skin prickling as the atmosphere surrounds it, and you pick up a small bottle.

* little seems to become redundant if you use it too many times in one sentence alone. Change of word there?

Wow, a lot of mention of synonyms with big and small e.g. little and large etc. Makes the paragraph very conflicting (subtly ofcourse) – again, encompassing this battle of reality/fiction, love/fear, and trust/betrayal.

“It’s going to prevent infection.” You say lowly, afraid that you’ll cause more damage to my delicate state. I look up at you questioning and you nod slightly. “It’s going to sting.” I nod as a singe tear falls from the pit of my eye, and you begin to lather that cool substance over my stomach. I groan as the cream seeps through my skin but after another minute you stop.
I know what coming next now, and you do too, though I suppose you are more afraid than I am. You hate needles. “Please, just get it over with.” I quiver, pleading with my eyes as I reach out for you. You give a curt nod, as if I’ve you broken you out of a trance, and you reach down to the floor and pick up one latex glove and slide it on your left hand.

Awww, careful, loving Gerard. I’m more happy that Frank acknowledges there’s help here, rather than be pushing him away in terror. And more importantly, he remembers facts about Gerard, he really loves him! Cute. In this state of panic and uncertainty, you probably wouldn’t remember much about anyone else, let alone yourself, but Frank must love him enough to know how it’ll hurt Gerard more than the pain he, himself, is suffering.

Next thing I know your fingers are delicately squeezing the end of my gash and you plunge the needle within my quickly. I open my mouth and moan, suppressing* a scream, and you look up to check on me for a moment. I urge you on and you do just that and soon enough you are tying a strong knot at the other end of the tear in my flesh. You rub an antibacterial ointment on my skin then tape on a strip of gauze.

* Repression is an action done consciously, and Suppression is an action done unconsciously. I think. Would you need to change it to ‘repressing’? Because I got the idea that Frank did it knowingly, to help not provoke Gerard’s fear of needles to surface by hearing somebody else in pain of his own phobia.

After two repeats of the process I begin to feel nothing. My body has become so numb from the twinge of the needle that I stare peacefully at the ceiling while you are still having a hard time holding the needle. After my torso has been patched up you sponge up the blood from my arms and neck and begin to move your eyes to my groin. I whimper and new man enters my eyes.

No, no, no! Don’t re-live the suffering Frank. Noooo. Concentrate on Gerard. Breathe deeply, remember Gerard’s here to help you.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” I scream as he throws me off the metal slab and onto the wretched floor. Rat’s scurry away from me and back to their disease infected walls and he lifts me up by the shirt and backhands me. I fall to the ground and he tugs on my hips and tears down my jeans. In less than I second I feel his length violate my body, causing my whole body to convulse. I howl at each of his thrusts but he doesn’t seem to care or even notice. After a mere five minutes he explodes his seed in my body and pulls out and lets me lay crumpled on the ground as the blood spills from me.

I’m a firm believer that regardless of how good friends you are with someone, you should always say the truthful opinion of what you think. So, I’m gonna admit that I don’t quite agree with this paragraph. It makes you lose the status of the story. Up to this point, a lot of it has been revolving around imagery and symbolism and not describing things outright, but here, you give a brief account of what exactly happened. This makes Frank tribulation seem minuscule to what really happened, obviously something very tormenting if he can’t even barely walk or recognize reality. If you kept it more vague and towards Frank’s internal pleas and thoughts, then I feel the story flows more better. Like (I’m not very good at suggesting things on the spot for a story that seems beyond my writing excellence, so excuse the shittiness suggestion coming up) ; …I fall to the ground and he tugs on my hips, nails scraping skin, weight pressurizing lungs, screams jolting my ribcage. Please drape and smother his ears, yet minutes pass by and my body convulses as he forces pain along my spine, his hands violating my back, wrists captured tightly and escape fading with every callous thrust. I soon find myself crumpled on the floor, nursing the tears and stinging of my insides that have exploded in jarring quantities as he pulls out and away from my curled figure….

You know what? Better yet, I think you should only put in spurts of the flashback, because when victims remember these sorts of traumas, they usually are not strong enough to live a whole sequence, merely finding bits and pieces together nauseating enough. So, just flashes of actions, distorted thinking patterns and such would weave really well into this paragraph.

I hear him laugh and sputter at my frame and rage devours my psyche, and I leap upward at him. “God, oh god, Frank please stop. Please, you’re going to hurt yourself. What’s happening?” I hear you sob as * shove you lazily against the wall, one of my arms pulled back with one of my fists** aimed clearly at your face. I see you in my eyes again and I practically collapse as the adrenaline disappears from my veins. You catch me just before a hit the ground.

* I
** …with one of my arms pulled back into a fist aimed clearly at your face. Otherwise it seems that one of his arms is pulled back and that arm has more than one hand, if you’re specifying that on that arm pulled back one of the hand is curled into a fist. lol

Last line reminds me of a certain The Used lyric…caught before I hit the ground… :cute: sorry, I regularly make some music relations in comments. Haha.

Aww, Gerard is so lovable in this. So caring.

You slump down the wall, unable to carry my dead weight, and we sit for a while. You breath long, thoughtful, breathes as your chest fluctuates back and forth*. You’re thinking I notice as your eyes stare off in utter oblivion. I wish I could know what you are thinking, just for a moment. I would be able to find out if I should run from them, from you.

* You breathe long, thoughtful breaths as your chet fluctuates back and forth.

Grr, poor Frankie still unsure about whether this is for real and safe or not. I wanna hug him myself and make everything alright.

You seem to know this though, how vulnerable I feel with you. It’s a sort of telepathy you and I have always shared. I can’t for the life of me figure why, but we do, we always will. My lower half soon becomes unfeeling as I sit and I look to you and reach out with my hand shakily. I touch your nimble fingers and squeeze lightly causing you to look at me. You seem to know that I’m saying I need you.

God, can anyone end at a sweeter note? That last paragraph had me aww-ing and squeeing at how the whole chapter went from Scared Frankie, to Needy Frankie, to Horrified Frankie, Angry Frankie and now the sweet adorable Couple.



I really hope I didn't ruin everything by writing this.

Pft, never think that darling. Your work is amazing and you can’t ever ruin it, at all.

And I've decided to write one more part to this because I didn't want this chapter to be too long. I hope that this isn't too confusing...Basically what was happening when Frank saw the 'new man" was just his mind replaying past events.

:cheese: more? I can’t wait now. It wasn’t confusing at all! Unless if you weren’t paying attention the first time around :shifty

This chapter is dedicated to hallucinogenic;; She is such a big inspiration for me and I think she really believes in me. ily.

This is the part where I fall in love with you. :tehe:
Joking, I already fell in love with you and your work after the first paragraph of the first chapter.



Overall: :crazy: :arms: :hug:

Your work never ceases to amaze me. You have some talent girl. Your writing has this captivating quality to it that demands you finish reading the chapter and that you come back for more. You put effort into it and as a real author, you give the reader multiple emotions to live past in just one chapter. I like the whole roller coaster you create that way – at the beginning you’re so happy for the narrator, and then suddenly everything takes a subtle turn and by the end, you’re completely at a different pace than what you started with. Additionally, your writing has a realistic tinge to it; bittersweet taste, not letting the reader be given a warped fictitious hint that all will turn out happily ever after. I’ve seen a few stories where the writers say, ‘warning, it will be sad and realistic’ and in the middle, all I see is unrealistic happiness being played out in front of my eyes. Sheesh. Your stories are a haven for me when I need something real to read.

:arms: :arms: :arms: You deserve it :arms: :arms: :arms:

Ruin this? Impossible.
I think that part just fueled my love for this - can't wait to see the next part!
I haven't got much time to comment today unfortunantly but I see my last comment will be above this one so hopefully they can kinda murge?
So as a very short comment - I adore this [and everything else you write] and ILY!
Love Beth
xoxo

Aww man, every time, every time you manage to take my breath away.
That was so amazing, you know I adore everything you write, and this is no different.
I loved how there was no trust what so ever between the two, yet somehow that was the least of their worries.
You have the wonderful ability to get emotions across only using actions, no words - I think that's why I love you so much ^_^
I'd love to read more of this, although it's perfect as it is - more would be so cool.
Basically, I love you =D
Beth
xoxo

you know i love your work, i dearly do, but sometimes you gotta say your opinion. i love it as a 1-shot. it has that something about the ending which i'd rather not like to know of; leaving it to the imagination sometimes serves a better purpose for the story. i'm not saying don't write it as a 2-shot, ofcourse i'd really love that too, but I quite like how you had all this confusion and thoughts of the person clearly displayed.

i'm losing what i'm trying to say....

it was a marvellous piece and i was transfixed by how vulnerable you made the narrator, yet how he tried to hold on to vain hope. astounding drabble, sincerely i mean it. the way it left off made you think about whether he met a gruesome ending he was expecting, or did something better come out of it, and as a reader personally i think this effect might wear off if you tell what actually happened inside his apartment. i'm not sure if i'm making sense. o.O

:arms:

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!
It's the story I've been waiting for!
Don't mind that I've already read part of it.
It was AMAZING.
I'm like, "I'm shocked! Well, I'm not shocked, but I'm shocked!"
Or maybe, "I read the story, and I SCREAMED!"
:D

Hmm...well, lemme think... this was kind of...

*pauses*

*takes a deep breath*

AWESOME!!

Though I didn't quite understand some things, it was so beautiful that it was as if I had it all figured out! The description was amazing..

-A two-shot would be nice-

I like the part where Frank was talking about Jersey boys and how they got straight to the point. It just made me smile.

-Again a two-shot would be appreciated-

I swoon over all your stories... I love it. <33

-For the last time make it a two-shot!-

xoxo