This is one of my favorite pieces of mine but i love the drum idea. I never thought of it. I tried to make the atomsp-here 1972ish. They don’t safari much there anymore. Sure message me. You make some great points. Did you read 1 or 2? Sandi
Short Story / The Devil of Hells Gates: The Legend of the Congo. PartII (Analysis)
The Devil of Hell's Gate: The Legend of the Congo Part II
He said, pointing to a hallway directly ahead of where they stood. “Perhaps when you are settled, you might want to take a look at his collection.”
Nick nodded and said, “Yes I would like to see what kind of gun he used to kill it."
Nick’s room was on the third floor. His eyes roamed over the big sitting room with its array of impressive trophies mounted on the white walls. His eyes moved appreciatively over the white Siberian tiger, the most allusive of all tigers and the most endangered of its species. He was impressed with the size of its massive head and its fluffy white fur with dark markings about its face. He thought it was almost swallowed up in the color of the matching wall, save for the eyes, a sea blue in color which were quite large in proportion and regarded Nick coldly.
There were other impressive heads of various smaller tigers as well as that of two large elks mounted on the adjacent wall. Nick recognized the spotted skin that was spread like a rug near the fireplace. It was that of a young Tjololo tiger.
“You cannot smoke in these quarters. But there is a terrace just off from your room.” Zareb informed him.
Nick nodded wondering where the head of the beast was kept if such thing existed. His thoughts turned back to remembrance of the disembodied growl that seemed to shake even the waters of the mighty Congo. Did he even want to see the head of something like that? Had the alcohol he’d drunk the evening of the safari distorted reality?
Zareb led him down a little hall that had two doors. Nick's room was the first of the two. “There is a house phone that allows you to connect with the staff in case you need anything. The main phone is downstairs. Mr Randloph doesn't allow phones upstairs because the ringing disturbs him. The last meal will be served at six o’clock,” he said in a mechanical voice. “Feel free to take a walk outside or whatever suits you,” he added.
Nick remained in his room for a while, trying to digest all the things the old man had told him earlier. Looking around he was struck by its bland eggshell walls and faded dark curtains. Compared to the austere rooms of the house toured earlier, his quarters were almost shabby. But furnishings had never mattered much to Nick. He had slept in some very uncomfortable places in his lifetime. Feeling the deep urge to smoke a fat cabañ he lit one and laughed at his own impudence. He pictured Zareb and his strange yellow-flecked pupils staring at him with malice for smoking amongst the dead and revered creatures of the jungle.
Nick's eyes fell on the long polished table near the fireplace where a decanter of scotch, two glasses, and an ice bucket stood showing a reflection in the shining wood. Nick didn't recall seeing the decanter earlier. The familiar craving suddenly rose within his throat, constricting it. For a while he studied the lovely amber liquid and the crystal glasses that set there hollow and waiting to be filled. He could picture the ice with its cloudy vapor and both hear and see the cracking of the cubes as the amber liquid cascaded over them.
Nick had had two years of sobriety and had struggled through every day. He hated being sober; hated the mundane existence that comes to any man who has known the pre-eminence of alcohol. Without it life takes on a kind of meaningless shape; one lacking color and taste, minus the lovely heady feeling of greatness and freedom that the spirits give a man. Since Albiento had died that horrible death in the Congo, Nick had sworn off liquor, blaming its numbing effects on his inability to judge and act quickly. Perhaps if he had been sober he could have saved his friend.
Nick thoughts turned to the ice-bucket. His hand touched the decanter as lovingly as one would touch a newborn babe. He all but stroked it. Suddenly a long black hand appeared and snatched up the decanter. Nick startled turned just in time to look into the dark expressionless eyes of the manservant. “You don’t mind if I have a glass, do you?” asked the deep voice.
Nick shook his head. and walked quickly to the sliding glass doors and out on the terrace. Laughing, he threw the half spent caban off the terrace and on to the ground, Back inside Nick said, i never cared for rules; they insult me somehow. Zareb smiled a rather mallicious smile and said nothing.
“I didn’t know lackeys partook in their employer’s stock," Nick said.
Zareb shrugged his shoulders. All of his remoteness had suddenly vanished.
“I am a doctor, Mr. Stuart. A lackey, too, perhaps, but I like the drink as much as anyone, and I partake whenever time affords it,” he said, using the tongs to retrieve three small cubes from the ice-bucket. Nick felt disappointment and a little angry at himself for having missed the obvious. He was usually very good when it came to accessing people. So the manservant was more than a common lackey. His association with Randolph was more friendly than business. And he was a lot smarter than Nick had first thought.
Zarab smiled flashing large white teeth as if he could read Nick’s thoughts. “I have known Mr. Randolph for thirty-nine years. I accompanied him on one of his safaris through Cameroon.”
"I had just started my practice in the city. One of the guides came to me needing aid for an American hunter who had fallen ill. I treated Mr. Randloph for malaria and have been with him almost every day, since. Yes, we are friends like you and Albiento were. I know most of his secrets."
“You know of the creature?” Nick blurted out without thinking.
Zareb’s eyes took on a deeper darkness. “Yes. I was with him that night. But I have never laid eyes on the beast legend calls “the devil of the deep.” His voice was almost a whisper and his hand shook, causing the ice cubs to clink in the glass. “Let's move to the terrace,” said Zareb. Nick sighed in relief, wanting to distance himself from the decanter of scotch.
From the wide terrace, Nick could look down upon the lush gardens in the distance. The variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of the flowers seem to go on forever. The estate, itself, had a large orange grove which met with lush flat shaved lawn that eventually disappeared into a wide forest. “A paradise,” Nick said, lighting a cigar.
Zareb said, "Yes, it is quite the showplace. The orange trees give it a kind of primitive beauty. I like the look of a well groomed garden. I planted the pink roses near the gazebo. Mr Randloph enjoys them very much.
Nick changed the subject.“So tell me, why did he not unveil the beast to the zoologists? A find like this would surely cement his fame and make him the greatest hunter who ever lived.”
Zareb frowned. “A man like Randolph is in it for the kill, the challenge of the hunt. Your friend, Albiento, longed for fame and was more interested in getting his name in a book. Randolph, on the other hand is bloodthirsty and for that he will pay dearly when the end comes.”
Nick looked surprised. “What do you mean? How do you know this so-called beast Randolph refers too is not just some fake concoction created by some clever movie set designer? They can do amazing things with props.”
Zareb’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Randolph is not a liar. But he is to be pitied and maybe you deserve some pity too, since you are here where its spirit waits in hiding, like a tiger ready to strike.” Nick flinched and then jumped, dropping his cigar to the planks. Quickly retrieving it, he said in an irritated voice," Thanks for the bit of drama. Now when can i see the head of the beast?'
Zareb rose and drained his glass. His dark eyes still riveted on Nicks. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so anxious to meet the Devil. I am a native of the Congo. I know of the rainforest, Hell’s Gates, and about the devil creature.” “It will come one day to take vengeance on its slayer. You see, Stuart, the creature and its slayer must be united as one in the end. It is a tradeoff—at least that’s what the legend says. But the beast does not stop there. It will kill anything or anyone who was party to its killing, or had intentions of killing it. And you were on that safari” he whispered. His eyes had grown large and queer.
“I escaped,” Nick said a smug tone.
Zareb smiled mysteriously and said, “Did you?”
Nick swallowed and stubbed out the remainder of his cigar. “ But you're not afraid of it eh?" he laughed.
Zareb slowly shook his head and said, “No. As a native of the Congo I understand what it means to respect nature. The pygmies are mainly a carnivorous group. We eat meat and sometimes kill small animals, but more out of necessity and not blood sport. Have you ever wondered why Albiento was savagely killed while his Pygmy guide was left alive?”
“No, I try not to think about it,” Nick’s said, sensing a kind of hostility from Zareb who seemed to know a little more about him than he liked.. But Nick felt the weight of his own lie and said “Yes, I wonder.”
Zareb smiled his expressionless smile and answered, “Because the Pygmy was in his own element. The American hunters were interlopers. Mr. Randolph will have his supper in the library, He'll expect you to join him.”
Nick found the old man sitting silently in front of the fireplace dressed in pajamas. Someone had lit the grate. The old man eyes seemed oblivious to anything other than the tongues of fire leaping up from small crackling logs. The tray of what appeared to be salmon, crackers, pâté and a large bowl of colorful fruit was untouched.
A pretty dark- haired girl dressed in a white nurse’s uniform appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Randolph I go to dispensary for medicine.”
Nick’s eyes appreciatively washed over her petite prettiness and smiled. “I'm Nick Stuart. You must be Mr. Randolph’s private nurse.”
Nick winked, causing her to blush and look down.
“Yes. I am Tressa,” she mumbled in broken English, and then turned to Mr. Randolph and said, “I go now.”
Nick saw a tray with the same food items meant for him set on a folding table adjacent to Randolph. “I hope you don’t mind the bohemian style feast, Stuart. I am a creature of habit and detest formality. By the way, Tressa is from South America. I found her on one of my trips to Columbia. She’s a good nurse and a real beauty.” Don’t you think so?”
Nick smiled and seated himself. Yes, she is quite exotic. While he ate, Nick listened to Randolph’s epic tales of the safaris he took in the Amazon, South America, and of course, the Congo. After he finished the meal and pushed his tray back, Nick withdrew a Cabañ and lit it. After a few puffs he stared at a rather pale looking Randolph through the smoke. “What made you leave Devonshire? I hear it’s a nice little place”
“Indeed it is. My home was in a little village called Sticklepath. Much of it is made up of quaint little houses and rolling pastures as far as the eye can see.” Randolph’s thick brows knitted together in retrospect. “My father was a hunter and brought me to Kenya on a safari when I was barely 12-years-old. I was instantly drawn to the sport. “And you, a man from North Dakota, what was it that dragged you from your cold climate?”
Nick smiled ruefully and said, “You have done your homework. When I graduated college, I took a job at a local televison station in New York. I thought the city was a happening place, at least that's what i'd always heard.I met up with Albert Albiento and did a story on his visit to one of the local museums. He liked my piece and invited me to safari with him in Ziare. Of course i went. What self-respecting reporter wouldn't want to see a famous hunter in action?"
“So you grew to love the blood sport,” Randolph asked, paying close scrutiny to his face.
“Yeah. I like the challenge of the hunt, said Nick. But let’s get down to business; I'm here to write about you and the Devil of the Congo. When can I see the head of this beast?"
The old man’s face paled and his voice sounded weak. “Anytime you choose, friend. It is up to you. But don’t expect me to accompany you. Lately, i need Zareb's assistance to mount the stairs. " It was a young Edward Randolph that bought this house. I chose the third floor bedroom for it's view of the courtyard. For some reason i can't give it up even now that i've grown feeble. I suppose i am a bit like a child with it's tattered blanket." he chuckled.
Zareb suddenly appeared as if on cue with a tray which held a bottle of clear liquid and a syringe. “Not now, Zareb,” Randolph said with irritation. “I would rather have bourbon toddy with a pinch of sugar.”
Without argument, Zareb turned and after a few minutes brought two coffees with bourbon, placed them on the table, and then handed a steaming cup to Nick. Nick’s heart leaped as his resolve wavered. The fragrant hint of bourbon called to him. “Drink it” Zareb urged in an almost hypnotic voice. Gesturing toward Randolph he said, “He is not supposed to have it either, but he drinks it. You will need it, believe me.”
Nick shook his head and said “No thanks.” But everything inside him screamed for the numbness and the forgetfulness that came with the fragrant drink. It was there for the taking, and all he had to do was reach over and grab the cup. But he chose to forego it. Something inside of his brain fought against the urge to forget. “No, you must remember” the voice said.
Nick waited until the old man had taken a few sips of the drink and said, “I'd like to see the beast today. If I am to write about it, I need to know what it looks like.
”Randolph sighed and said, “Very well” and then called out to Zareb on a small intercom system mounted into the wall next to his chair. When Zareb appeared, Randolph ordered him to give Nick the keys to the upper room.
Zareb accompanied Nick to the third floor and to the last room on the opposite side of the room where Nick slept. Zareb gave Nick the necessary instructions: “These are the keys to both the door and the cell. Mr. Randolph installed the cell in case someone should get past the alarm system. There is a light switch to the right, as soon as you enter the room. But the light is very dim so that its rays won’t fade the outwards appearance of the beast. Nick nodded, while trying to quiet the rapid thumping of his heart. “You must lock it back,” Zareb warned, as if he feared the thing would escape.
“You are not going in with me,” Nick asked.
“No,” he answered simply. “It is forbidden. A Pygmy cannot look upon a beast so revered.”
As Zareb turned to leave, Nick braced himself before putting the key in the lock. Once he heard the click and felt the give, he stepped inside the semi-darkened room. His hand explored the wall, finally locating the switch and flipped. His eyes met with the dimmed light that spilled on the cell of a sort, made of iron, shaped and bent into crissed-crossed netting. Finding his bifocals, in his left front pocket, he placed them on top of his sweaty nose, and peered through the diamond netting, but discovered that he could see nothing but bits and pieces of something very black. Taking a deep, shuddery breath, he placed the biggest key into the lock and then the heavy cell door swung automatically open.
. Upon seeing the thing mounted on the wall, Nick’s eyes widened in sheer terror, and his body automatically stiffened. He thought that even his darkest nightmares had not prepared him for such a frightful sight. The head mounted on the wall was large; its fur was short and sleek. The head was the size of a lion’s; its nose was wide like that of the melanistic leopard; the kind he had seen in North America years before. Its ears were pulled back and rather tiny compared to the rest of its features. However, it was the eyes that drew fright from the onlooker; they were large and teardrop shaped, their color was black and tinged with a speck yellow near the iris. The eyes looked sadistic he thought, trying to adequately wrap his mind around a fitting description. He studied its wide opened mouth with its long, broad razor sharp canines that were reminiscent of a model Nick has seen of prehistoric Saber Toothed Tiger.
He pictured this powerful fiend with its thunderous, unearthly growl, prowling the dense vegetation of the Congo, stalking its prey. What had it took to kill this thing? And who stuffed and mounted it? he wondered. If the head were this size he wondered how large the body must be. Legend had it that its body was as large as a full grown Brahma bull. Nick had seen it at last; the face of the beast that killed Albiento. He couldn’t imagine the horror that his friend must have felt in seeing the evil eyes staring into his during the last minutes of his life. After a few moments, Nick closed the door of the cell with a shudder. He didn’t need to see anymore. Certain darkness had settled within him as soon as he locked the door to the room.
Later, Nick found the library devoid of life. His shoulders automatically sagged with disappointment, for he had hoped for more information on the beast. He wanted to see pictures taken after its death to make sure he wasn’t unknowingly participating in some kind of clever hoax, though a part of him knew that what he had seen once breathed air and lived and deep within the dark recesses of the Congo. As Nick moved about the solitary rooms he was aware of the silence that hung like a curtain over the atmosphere. He realized he wouldn’t miss the feeling of vacancy, once he was finished here. He likened the air to one of expectancy. Nick hollered the word ‘hey” just to break the silence. He paused a moment, straining his ears in anticipation,but heard nothing.
He made his way back upstairs and out on to the terrace. Overhead, the sky was of a blue black and had the look of crushed velvet. His eyes gazed down into the courtyard where teke torches were scattered the about the grounds with their artificial flames lighting the darkness. Nick thought there must be a hundred of them. For awhile he smoked in silence, thinking about the thing mounted on the wall in a room less than fifty feet away from where he now sat. Although it had some characteristics of the cougar with its sleek coat, and the prehistoric tiger with its long canines, there was certain ferociousness about its countenance that seemed absent in the depiction of these beasts. What would he write? How could he accurately describe it when most of how he felt about it existed in implicit description? Words like evil, sadistic, savage, and spiritual, were broad terms that begged for definition. Nick hadn’t seen the beast in the jungle that night, but he had felt it in the air; its presence oozed through the dripping trees and hovered about the darkness.
After his cigar was spent, Nick walked back into the fireplace room, with its bright white walls lit with low watt lighting, in order to protect the fur of the exotic animals. He noticed that the decanter of scotch still stood on the table as if waiting for him to partake of it. Walking over to the decanter he touched the decanter. Without thinking, he poured two fingers into one of the glasses, then turned it up and swallowed the lovely smooth liquid fire. Ahh yes, he had missed the burn. The sweet mellow taste perked up his taste buds, and warmed his stomach in such a lovely way. The warmth had invigorated him. even his manhood sparked to life. For a long time it had lay flaccid, but now, he looked down and saw the proof of his virility. Life once again sparkled like the sun dancing on the lake, and the thing on the wall wasn’t so frightening anymore. Alcohol had away of allaying Nick’s fears and angst. By nature, he was passionate about his work but sometimes docile when it came to looking back in retrospect at his life. He'd spent most of his time living the life of Albiento, sharing in his adventures and writing about them. When sober, Nick purposely avoided the reality of his loneliness and pretended that his work satisfied every aspect of him. But now with Albiento gone, there was no jungle exotica, no lovely dark- skinned girl to whisper sweet things in his ears. Lately, life had become monotonous and colorless.
Nick felt more alive than he had for a long time. His eyes found the trophies and mocked them. He even toasted them. He said, “Here’s to you my dead friends; may you rest in peace and I never die." He drank until the decanter was almost empty and then the world faded to black.
The next morning, Nick sat in the library, staring sickly at half a grapefruit, dry toast, two boiled eggs, and a cup of steaming coffee. His head roared and his mouth felt as dry as a cotton ball. He was sure he reeked of scotch. Zareb entered the room with a pitcher and a glass balanced on a tray. Upon seeing Nick’s disheveled appearance, he shot him a knowing glance as he handed him a glass filled with a strange pink concoction. “Drink this,” he said. Nick hesitantly took the glass, and then drank the foul liquid, tasting just a hint of bourbon. After a few minutes his head stopped pounding and his stomach stopped rolling. Randolph’s chair was empty. "Where is Edward? Don't tell me he's not coming down to breakfast."
Zareb gathered the untouched tray and empty glass and said, “Mr. Randolph is ill. But he sent you his journals.” Nick’s bloodshot eyes centered on the box of dusty leather bound journals on a nearby table. “What the hell is this, Zareb?” Before the doctor could answer, Nick said, I have questions that need answering before I start any writings. If the old man was this sick, then someone should have informed me of it before I took the assignment. I am not here on a vacation.”
Zareb shrugged and said mildly, “Your questions will have to wait until his blood count is stable. He was feeling very week this morning.”
Nick ran his fingers nervously through his hair. Look, I need to know how he killed it. What kind of rifle did he use, and who did the taxidermy? I’ll bet he didn’t record that in the journals did he? They look as old as the hills.”
Zareb shrugged and said, “I can’t help you Mr. Stuart.”
“Bullshit! You know as much as Randolph does. I’m not buying the humble lackey bit anymore. How can I write about a creature I know so little about? I saw it, but now I am wondering where its body went?” At least give me a nibble!”
Zareb turned and gazed directly into Nick’s eyes. For a moment Nick recognized a flicker of something he’d seen before though he wasn’t sure what. It was akin to a thought on the edge of remembrance and then it is lost. “Mr. Stuart, a white man’s money can buy anything in a poor village; it can certainly buy silence, and a good taxidermist. You rich white hunters come to Africa and kill the animals of the jungle for sport. But you never understand what you have killed. You ignore the rules of the jungle and the government, all to mount a head on a wall. I know little about the circumstances of its death if this is what you are asking. But I am a native of the rainforests. I have respect for what lives in it. I know what things represent.” His eyes suddenly narrowed. “You will learn what they mean, too. You don’t need my explanation. Patience is a virtue; an old adage, but it might serve you well if you had some. Now if you will pardon me.”
Nick was left alone in the fireplace room with only the monotonous tick of the ormolu clock. Feeling restless, he moved to the hall and thern upstairs to his room where he found his suitcases empty. Zareb, no doubt, had been the one who had hung his clothes neatly in the closet and folded his underwear in the drawers. Nick took a hot shower and then went to the table where the decanter stood replenished of its amber liquid. He curiously raised the lid on the ice bucket and saw the vaporous ghosts rise off the little white cubes. Licking his lips, he nervously poured three fingers of scotch into a glass with three small ice cubes and then greedily gulped it down.
Later, out on the terrace he lit a Cabañ and drank more scotch while reading through the Randolph’s journals. The effects of the whiskey steeled his nerves and made it easier for him to concentrate. “Where have you been all my life?” he asked the glass, quite pleased with the drink’s lovely effect. Just as he turned another page, he heard a loud crash. Pausing and straining his ears, he heard another thump. Now concerned, he rose and walked through the sliding glass doors into the fireplace room, then advanced down the hall that led to another set of rooms.
As he approached the door to beast room he paused feeling his own heart accelerate. An iron cell! Why put a trophy behind something like that. But this was no regular trophy. When he was satisfied that the thumping was coming from somewhere else, he heard a, louder, thwack followed by a ping, as if someone raked a hand against a wind chime or bell. The sound was clearly coming from behind the door. Nick moved quickly away from the door and made his way from through the hall and down the spiral staircase to the first floor where he met and Zareb. “There is something moving around in the room with the head” Nick said, his eyes appeared glazed from the scotch.
Zareb stared back at him with a blank expression. “I will call Carl and have him check and make sure there has not been some kind of break in, though it is doubtful with the alarm system set.”Zareb picked up the the house phone from off its nook in the corner.
“Look, I know what I heard,” Nick said angrily, while nervously smoothing back his uncombed hair.
Carl was a squat, rotund little man with a balding head. He was dressed in a green uniform and had jovial manner. Nick needed jovial or something reminiscent of the outside world. He had been at Little Kenya for two days, but thought it felt more like two years.
There was something about the atmosphere of the house that reminded him of a black and white episode of the Twilight Zone. Nick wasn’t afraid of much; one lost the feeling of fear after having spent countless nights in Pygmy huts in the rainforests. But something wasn’t right here at Little Kenya.
Nick followed Carl up the stairs and told him where the sounds were coming from. Carl said, “I’ll check the whole floor. It’s better to be safe, than sorry.” Nick followed Carl to the door and stood waiting.
Carl took out a big chain of keys and hummed softly as he placed the biggest key in the lock.
"You might want to watch out" Nick stuttered.
“Yeah, sure,” Carl said. “It ain’t nuthin but a big old cat from out of some swamp in Africa. It’s an ugly thing, but they’re a lot of strange species roamin about the jungle.”
Carl’s simple, trivial attitude made Nick chuckle and his nerves seemed less wired.
"Are you going in sir?” Carl hesitated.
Nick shook his head.
Carl shrugged and stepped inside the room. Nick could hear him unlocking the Iron Gate. “Damn ugly thing. Almost as ugly as them saggy titties on them African women in National Geographic” he joked.
Nick continued to chuckle with relief. Carl was right: it was a big ugly cat. Maybe it wasn’t the thing that killed Albiento at all. Maybe the beast was in actuality, some kind of rare breed of leopard or better yet, was truly the allusive panther the Pygmies talked about.
“Ok it’s all clear. The big ugly cat is still on the wall,” Carl said laughingly.
Nick self-consciously rubbed sharp stubble on his face, and took a gulp of scotch. “You stick around, Carl. You’re a good man to have around.”
“I’ll be down in the stables if you need me,” Carl said cheerfully.
Nick stepped out on the terrace and lit a Cabañ, feeling better than he had since he’d he first stepped foot into the doors of Little Kenya. Carl had somehow put the normalcy back in the otherwise, surreal atmosphere. Now studying the yellow tint of the sun in the orange groves, Nick wondered why the hell he panicked like that over a noise. “Mr. Nick,” a feminine voice spoke.
Nick looked up to see Tressa standing beside his chair. He gave her a lopsided grin, while his eyes roamed unabashed over her small but curvy body. “What can i do for you Tressa? he asked.
She half-smiled then met his eyes. I just stop to speak to you. No one else much around.”
“How is the old man,” he asked.
“Not good. He has fever and must have someone close by.”
“I’m sure you’re a fine nurse. If I were sick I'd want you at my bedside,” he said in a flirty tone.
She smiled shyly. I go now; i just want to speak, hi
Nick laughed at her butchering of the English language."You don’t have to go. "You can have a drink with me."
“No, Tressa said. Doctor Zareb will call for me.”
Nick watched her walk away feeling disappointed. He could imagine how lonely and isolated the poor girl must have felt here in this mausoleum of decadence. He felt it too. The atmosphere was bleak, but yet somewhere amidst the dying light and the silence, something waited. Nick sensed it.
Nick could not find sleep. He had tossed and turned in bed, and then tried to write, but eventually abandoned the effort. He now lay in the semi- darkness on his back naked and coverless, staring out the oblong window down at the imitation teke torches that lit up the whole estate. Little Kenya, a lonely place haunted by the ghost of a blood thirsty past. When all was said in done what did the old man have now but an ugly unknown species hanging in a room gathering dust? Nick laughed softly to himself and closed his eyes.
A soft knock on the door jarred him from his whiskey laden sleep. He turned groggily to see something white standing beside his bed. “Wha”—his voice uttered, while eyes snapped awake.
“I sorry to wake you, senor. I need company in darkness of night. Little Kenya is forsaken for people.”
Nick reached for the thin blanket and threw it over his nakedness.
“I knock,” she said.
Now, Nick was fully awake. He recognized the little nurse, Tressa. Narrowing his eyes in the direction of the wall clock he noted that it showed 2 Am. Now sitting shirtless on the side of the bed, his eyes roamed over her loveliness. She was wearing what looked like a man’s white shirt and her dark breasts peeked through the unbuttoned front. Her hair was a mass of unruly little curls that framed her childish face. Nick Swallowed hard and motioned for her to sit beside him. But just as he moved over, she came to him and strategically straddled his lap, planting hungry kisses all over his unshaven face, while her hands found and stroked his naked erectness. He moaned, lay back and let her have her way with him.
He smell her perfumed hair as it fell about his naked shoulders. Her long fingernails raked his arms and her teeth were very sharp as they nibbled his earlobe and neck. Slowly she raised the shirt above her head revealing her full breasts, their nipples erect. The moon shone through oblong window casting light on her smooth skin. And then she slid his hard erectness inside of her and rocked back and forth; slow at first, but then picked up momentum. Nick heard his own breath hiss through his teeth as he hands caressed her taut breasts. The moonlight enhanced her intense expression. He watched her close her eyes and throw back her head, while almost guttural moan escaped from her throat. Suddenly her eyes flew open and Nick froze in a kind of quick feeling of horror. There in the darkness her eyes had turned completely white and looked down, boringly into his. Her mouth was half open baring sharp long canines. Nick yelped in horror and threw her aside and onto the floor
"What is happening?” She cried.
Nick shook his head as if to shake off the memory, and looked down in horror at her naked body sprawled on the floor. Her eyes pleaded with him in the moonlight. Her little mouth was puckered in a look of misunderstanding.
“Why you hurt me?” she sobbed.
Nick started to speak but his mouth felt as dry as cotton. “Just go back to your room,” he finally managed hoarsely. He watched her grab her white shirt and then scurry out of the room.
Nick awoke with a pounding headache and a dim memory of the strangeness of last night. It was the alcohol he decided, knowing that too much of it could mess with a man’s head. He thought of the little nurse, Tressa, and felt deep shame. He had thrown her to the floor like some bully. Would she tell Randolph or even Zareb? Somehow he doubted it. He remembered in a foggy haze how her eyes had looked; a trick of the light, surely. But then what of her teeth? Nick decided that it had been his overindulgence in the scotch and viewing the head of the beast that had caused him to hallucinate. He reached over to grab his shirt; just as he did he noted the deep red scratches on his arms. Looking down he noted there were even more on his chest. Staggering to the mirror he jumped back and cried “Geez!” There was sticky dried blood trailing down from his left earlobe and unto his red marked chest. He noted how deep the scratches were--almost gouges, and hot they felt to the touch. A deep sickness rose in his throat and he barely made it to the bathroom commode where he vomited copiously.
Nick shaved, dressed and went downstairs into the library to find it once again void of the old hunter. Zareb was sitting up Nick’s breakfast tray with the usual foods: toast, eggs, fruit and a glass of the pink concoction that cured his last hangover. Nick was irritated to find he must breakfast alone. “Where is Randolph?” he asked, choosing to forego the breakfast and the pink concoction, favoring a Cabañ, instead.
“Still ill I am afraid. Perhaps he will feel up to company tomorrow,” Zareb said in his deep voice.
“Bullshit Nick” spat. “I am his biographer I must have access to him. If you will show me to his room I will visit him there. My patience only goes so far doctor.”
“You can’t no visit Mr. Edward today” came a familiar little voice. Nick turned to see Tressa dressed in a prim white nurse’s uniform with a little lace cap. “Him sick with fever; city doctor will come to see him today. Maybe you see him tonight” she offered in broken English.
Nick’s anger rose. He pushed past Zareb and followed her into the hallway not caring if everyone in the house heard. “Wait!” he called to her. Tressa stopped and turned to face him; her face wore a look of complete innocence. “What the hell is this?” he asked, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the angry red scratches on his chest. “Look at this!” he said, pointing to his torn left earlobe. “What are you, some kind of damned animal?” His voice was loud and full of angst.
Tressa suddenly recoiled in a gesture of shame.
“I no do this! Oh, I so sorry. I don’t remember…” Her words trailed off as she turned and ran. Nick shook his head and went back into the fireplace room where Zareb stood looking oblivious.
“Look Zareb, I want to see the old man today. If he doesn’t talk to me I am out of here. He can take me to court for breech of contract. I don’t care at this point.” Nick's voice suddenly turned hoarse and low. “There is something wrong with alll this. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I have stepped through the damned looking glass.”
Zareb, said, “Perhaps you should stop partaking in the scotch. I have refilled the decanter four times in two days.”
“Bullshit! Explain this,” he said, jerking open his s unbuttoned his shirt. Zareb stared at his chest with the same blank expression.
“Well say something damn you! Your little nurse did this last night!”
“I can talk to her,” Zareb said mildly.
‘Yes, well, you might need to muzzle her. She acted like a bitch dog last night.”
Nick ran his hands through his hair. “Look here, doctor, you tell the old man I want to speak to him. I won’t tax him. I just need to see for myself what kind of condition he is in. I am going stir- crazy here. I read those damned journals and there’s not a thing in them about his early life.
Zareb shrugged carelessly. “I don’t know what to tell you Mr. Stuart. I cannot risk his health because of your need for an interview. One doesn’t plan to get sick; one just does it.”
Nick felt his face go hot. Zareb had a grating demeanor that irked him and flared his anger. Something was out of place here. Nick had good instincts. Sure he’d drunk a lot of scotch but the scotch hadn’t created the deep scratches on his chest or given the nurse teeth shaped like daggers. Where was Edward Randolph? Nick had no idea which room he occupied, only that it was on the third floor. But he damned sure planned to find out. Nick stomped silently out of the fireplace room, and up the stairs.
After a few minutes of cooling off on the terrace, Nick mounted the stairs to the third floor. Just as he reached the landing leading into the wide sitting room, he heard what he thought was a male voice. Then female voice chimed in, but Nick couldn’t make out what they were saying. He wondered if perhaps Zareb was scolding Tressa concerning the scratches she had put on Nick's body.
The voices soon faded and he continued down the hall, in the direction of where the voices were coming from. Nick turned to the left and entered the large room with the gun display. His eyes scanned the glass l cabinets that reached from floor to ceiling, and held every conceivable type of gun. Nick ticked off several high-powered rifles, as well as three large compound-bows that were kept in a separate cabinet. How many slaughtered with these weapons? he wondered.
Off near a corner by itself Nick spied a huge gun in a large display case. It favored a large shotgun, but made broader through the stock, and its barrel was shorter. Nick saw lettering on the stock. Retrieving his bifocals from his pocket, he placed them on his nose and read the gold lettering AA12 shotgun. He had heard of these guns, and how they were deemed more powerful than even the elephant gun. So this was what he used to kill it. Nick figured that since it was a powerful scatter shot, it might have blown the animal apart. He suddenly to felt sick at his stomach
Nick left the room and made his way down the hall. He noted the two rooms on either side. He twisted the first knob and felt it give, easily. He cracked the door and found it empty. He then moved down to the next one and tried the knob but it did not give. “Randolph,” he called softly. “Randolph?” he said a little louder. Suddenly, Nick heard a weak cry. It was Randolph! With his heart racing, Nick furiously turned, and rattled the knob, but it wouldn’t give. A hand gripped his shoulders. Nick turned quickly and found himself staring up into Zareb’s dark soulless eyes.
Randolph is in there. Now open the damned door!
You need to come with me Mr. Stuart. I have told you he cannot have visitors in the delirious state he is in.
“Listen, doctor,” Nick said in a condescending tone, something stinks here. Why can’t I look in on the old man? Why are you keeping him locked up?”
Zareb grabbed Nick’s arm in a vice grip, and forcefully led him down the hall into the sitting room. Nick tried to break free but couldn’t move.
Now loosing his grip, Zareb said, “Mr. Randolph is not a prisoner. He wanders at night and the locked door is to protect him; to keep him from falling down the stairs.”
Nick rubbed his arm, and shot Zareb a baleful look.
“I heard him calling out to me.” I suggest you allow me in there to see him, so I can see for myself that he is all right.”
“He is hallucinating, because of the medicine. You forget that he is a dying man; but if you feel so strongly in your suspicions, why not go for the telephone and call the authorities?” his voice challenged.
Nick laughed bitterly. “Don’t think I won't doctor. I don't trust you or your little counterpart with the canines, either. Oh, and you might ask her to steer clear of my room tonight, he said warningly.
Later on the terrace Nick lit cabañ and stared at the decanter of scotch that he had so lovingly brought with him to the table. He had already drank a good portion of it. The numbness lightened his spirit and made him more introspective.
Nick studied the courtyard with its variety of lovely flowers on either side of a pea graveled walk. Beyond the teke torches standing idly unlit. There wasn’t sign of life. He wondered where Carl had gone Carl being the most ordinary thing about the estate. He pictured the smiling face of Zareb and detected something underneath the surface, He smiled but his eyes had no expression. Nick felt the hair on his neck stand up as he suddenly remembered something from his early days as a journalist. He was living in New York and one day while walking, he stumbled upon a statue of a gargoyle near and old abandoned building. He remembered feeling a peculiar sense of disquiet. While examining the statue, he decided that it was the eyes that made him feel ill at ease. There was something empty and soulless about the way they looked through him. They were inhuman. Zareb’s eyes looked much the same way: soulless.
Nick had passed out with his head on the table. When he awoke it was dark and all the teke torches were lit in the courtyard. Now staggering out of his chair, he noted the scotch decanter was lying on the terrace floor, and some of its contents had spilled and stained the dark planks. Unsteady on his feet, he reached down and picked up the empty decanter and staggered blindly into the glass of the sliding door. Reeling backwards, he gained momentum. Feeling blindly for the handle, he found it and pulled it open. While almost pitching forward into the floor of the fireplace room, he zigzagged over to the table and saw that someone had replenished the scotch supply. “No. no. no.” he muttered, putting the empty decanter on the table while staring at the full one. Nick felt dizzy and sick at his stomach, and his vision seemed to fade in and out. He needed to wash his face he decided. Stumbling blindly past the table and to the hall he stopped, and tried to see what was ahead of him. One part of his brain wondered if he had been drugged. Yes, that would explain the blurred vision.
Narrowing his eyes in an effort to focus, he made his way down the hall, not sure what he was looking for or even where he was. The hall widened and now he found himself in a large room with a dim light burning overhead. Nick recalled through his haze that the rooms made a circle and if he followed the circle he would end up at his bedroom if he kept walking. The light became dimmer the further he walked. Suddenly in front of him he spied what he thought were two silhouettes standing close together. In the grey light of the hall, Nick paused and stood blinking his eyes. Even in his drunken state he sensed something very wrong. His vision momentarily cleared enough for him to make out the figures of Tressa and Zareb: Both were naked. Nick could make out tressa’s bare breasts and he could see Zareb was fully erect. Both were smiling at him in unison. Nick edged closer and saw that their eyes had turned a bright white.
He tried to open his mouth to scream but nothing came out. Zareb leaned closer to Tressa and suddenly opened his mouth wide, revealing long fangs. Tressa then moved dreamlike toward Nick who staggered backwards, but she was advancing on him. Suddenly her mouth opened revealing a long set of canines. And then there was a low cackling, followed by a shrill, feminine screech. Together the laughter was maddening.
Nick recovered some of his equilibrium, spun around and started running in the direction the sitting room. It seemed he was running in place and getting nowhere. Suddenly the world around him had turned into a surreal place where average people transformed into strange unearthly creatures; and an old man lay dying in a locked room. Nick spun quickly around expecting Tressa to pounce on him, but saw nothing but the yawning darkness of the hallway.
Nick considered himself a realist. Before he spent time in Kenya and the African jungles he never prescribed to the belief in the supernatural. But that night at Hells Gate he could have almost reached out and touched the evil that pervaded the thick vegetative landscape. Even now he could smell the blood and the sweat that was so much apart of memory. Nick sensed that the evil from the jungle had found its way here in this house. He could feel its presence hovering about the walls of the room where he stood. Nick's blurred vision met with the light blue eyes of the Siberian Tiger, whose large head dominated the room. In a moment of complete clearness, he imagined he saw a light playing about their depths, as if they were alive. Nick could almost here the walls breathe and half expected the tiger to tear through the drywall.
He had to get out. The urge to run was a primitive instinct; to hell with his clothes. If only his vision would return. Nick he made his way toward the double glass door leading to the terrace. He needed fresh air in his lungs to sober him. Once on the terrace the cool night air rushed his sweaty skin. He glanced toward the courtyard where the teke torches burned bright within the blue black night. With all the strength he could muster he yelled, “Help!” He was thinking that maybe Carl would hear him. But his voice was weak and did not carry. His mudded mind thought of some of his options: he could go for the stairs and find the front door. Yes, that was what he would do.
He slid open the glass doors and then heard a loud roar like someone sawing wood with a cross saw. Nick’s heart squeezed hard within his chest. He recognized the sound. He had heard it the night Albiento was murdered in the rainforest. Even in his confused state of mind, a part of him tried to reason. His eyes looked down toward the courtyard lit up by teak torches. Where was it? He thought about the big rifle on the second floor room, but wondered how he could kill something that was already dead. Suddenly Zareb’s words played about in his head. "I respect its power. If i were you I wouldn’t be so anxious to meet the Devil."
The thing would get vengeance on those who hunted it. The mingling of the souls into one: the hunter and the hunted. The bits of conversation played out in Nicks head. But He couldn’t remember who told him.
Nick recalled the phone on the wall in the downstairs hallway. He then staggered down the stairs and made his way and over to the wall phone, wondering who he would call? What would he say? Nick picked up the phone, only to find the line was dead. Somehow he had known it would be. He thought of every scary movie he had ever seen and recalled that the phone was always dead. Nick threw the phone against the wall and made his way toward the front door, opened it and walked out on the stoop where he first saw the strange writing above the door. From where he stood he could see the courtyard and the pea graveled walkway. His thoughts were fuzzy and he couldn’t remember where Randolph’s driver had parked his rented car. Nick realized through his haze that he knew very little about the layout of the estate. His eyes panned the courtyard. And then from out of nowhere a figure appeared and staggered blindly out of the orange grove. It was a man dressed in what looked like pajamas and a white shirt. Nick squinted willing his eyes to stay focused long enough to make out the figure. It was Randolph.
Nick’s couldn’t comprehend why the old man was on the grounds in the middle of the night. He yelled out Randolph’s name, but he made no move to indicate that he had even heard him. The black devil Panther can hide change shapes, and creep quietly through the trees. That was what the Pygmy guide, Zaloumi, had told Nick and Albiento around the fire the night before the safari in the upper Congo and “Hells Gate.” It suddenly occurred to Nick that maybe Zareb and Tressa had drugged Randolph and then led him outside, so the thing could kill him.
Nick continued to watch the old man stagger helplessly in and out of the trees. He yelled his name again, but Randolph still didn’t respond. Nick felt helpless and frightened. He could think of nowhere to run. There was no escape. What had Zareb said about the Devil cat? It would come back for vengeance on all who had hunted it. If this were true, then Nick knew where he stood. He was there that night in the rainforest. He remembered look of terror in Albiento’s eyes as he lay with his throat cut and his entrails like thin sausage links, laid out on his stomach. Why would he think of this now? Someone had drugged the scotch. None of this was real but a kind of nightmare.
Nick’s frightened eyes looked out at the courtyard where Randolph still wondered about, staggering and mumbling incomprehensibly. Nick staggered off the stoop and out into the darkness. In the distance he saw a slight movement in the trees and felt his heart wrench. A loud roar split the air and sounded as if it were only a short distance away. Another figure appeared, dressed in white and was advancing slowly out of the trees. Nick strained his eyes in an effort to focus, but then knew immediately who it was. He could not mistake the wearer of the white suit. It was Zareb.
Nick watched as the tall man stepped out of the orange grove and stood about twenty feet away from Randolph. And then like something from out of ones worst nightmare, Zareb begin to transform underneath the bright lights of the teak torches. First his head slowly increased like helium filling a balloon. The face became the face of the beast Nick had seen in the cage. Nick stared in stunned I disbelief at its little flat ears and the powerful nose. And then his body expanded and slowly transformed to the size large bull. Nick was about fifty feet away but certain clarity had taken over his vision. God, the drug was wearing off and look what he had to see. No one on earth would believe this. Nick suddenly realized that he would never live to write about this unearthly sight. He knew that would pay a price for his association with Albiento.
The scene was surreal and horrifying. Nick heard his own scream in the dark as he recognized the appearance of beast: the Devil from Hells Gates. Almost in a mechanical fashion, the big black beast’s head slowly turned and looked up in Nick’s direction in a split second, its eyes blazed a bright white; its powerful jaws opened wide revealing long white fangs. A horrible roar like that of someone pushing a cross saw through a log shattered the stillness.
Nick watched in slow motion as the thing began to move. Its legs were heavily muscled, and it advanced slow and deliberately toward the hapless old man. Randolph saw it and screamed while staggering backwards. And then it crouched; its large paws lay flat on the ground. They seemed five times the size of those on the biggest cat he had ever seen. He watched as its head bent low on the ground as if it were praying. And then, a dream like sequence, it leaped high into the air and landed on top of Randolph’s helpless figure.
“Oh Jesus Christ!” Nick screamed. He could hear its loud, animalistic growls as it tore into the old mans neck, ripping and snapping bone; tearing and shredding flesh. Nick suddenly felt the horror a man feels when he knows that he is going to die. Nick did not run because he knew to do so would be futile. Zareb was the Devil cat. Randolph had killed its body but not its soul. Pygmies were a part of the African jungle. Zareb was a pygmy and the spirit of Devil cat had entered his body that night of its death on the Congo. A head mounted in a room cannot kill. Nick laughed at the irony of it. Nick remembered how the little Pygmy’s gathered around the fire and talked about how the beast could change forms. He’d scoffed at the motion until the night of Albiento’s death.
Nick was suddenly aware of the eerie quiet. There was a sudden shift in the wind. And the air was once again balmy. Nick’s eyes now clear stared down at the broken body lying in a pool of blood in the courtyard. All he could do now was sit and wait. There was nowhere else to go the beast stood regarding him with him obscene eyes. A loud roar broke the stillness. Nick knew the sound. It was like the teeth of old-fashioned cross-saw eating into wood…
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cperger reviewed Version 2 -
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Firstly, I tried to find part 1 to this, although couldn’t, and so had to suffice with starting with this one. The story, itself, I found quite enjoyable. The mixture of the paranormal aspects with Nick’s bout with alcohol gave a good touch to the oddities he was facing.
As for the grammer, punctuation and whatnot, there was quite a few I found. A whole lot with quotations, and many others I began to track for you, but eventually gave up.
e.g.
… He was feeling very week this morning.” – weak
…It was akin to a thought on the edge of remembrance and then it is lost. – It was akin to a thought on the edge of remembrance and then being lost.
Feeling restless, he moved to the hall and thern… – then
… spiral staircase to the first floor where he met and Zareb. – met Zareb
… but they’re a lot of strange species roamin about the jungle.” – roaming or
roamin’, depending if you intend for him to be speaking more loose, or in slang
When all was said in done… – said and done
Overall, though, your story held my attention quite well and kept me wondering how it would all wrap up.
Keep it up!
Cheers,
Chris
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Ajax_Skreitzche reviewed Version 2 -
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style wise, it reminds me of burroughs in some respects.
story wise, its similar to the twilight zone in ny, where the tribal ancestors come for vendetta, plus a few others.
needs an edit. lots of dropped words. little ones. mostly “a”s and “of”s.
small things.
a few wrong words – allusive vs elusive – and things of this ilk.
also, quite a few repeated words. the same words in the same paragraph, only a line after one another.
the opening of each line needs to be thought out better so it isnt so static -
he said, she said, and so on.
remove “sudden”, suddendly”, “seemed”, “nearly”, “advanced”, “appreciatively”,
some of the dialogue i believe, some i dont.
the nurse definitely being the best done in terms of her regional dialect and reactions. those read very true.
i feel Zar tells too much. like hes pontificating on a soap boax. i would cut down what he revolves. make his responses shorter. and remove the last word or two from almost every line he has.
the inner dialogue is mostly good. the formatting makes it difficult to find the line between narration and the character, however.
use quotes, or, at the least, italics?
i would like the more modern words removed.
the piece has no real time frame, which is nice, until you throw in the technology of the present. example – the choice of shotgun? way too modern, and in fact, for a one stop shot – and for the purists, its all about the one shot – it is not the most powerful of weapons. traditionalist would use a 2 gauge for elephant, a 10 gauge for tiger. no one goes on safari with full auto.
the ending went flat.
the sound of the saw needs to be shown as a memory, much earlier in the story. i dont believe it appears until page 29.
emphasise it ever so slightly, so as to make that sound the one that irks him most. it is the same device used in the twilight zone. only, the anti hero’s poison was the sound of drums.
once edited and reformatted. its publishable.
nice piece.
although, i must admit, i woulda liked an entirely different ending – one i wasnt expecting.
if you need an example of what i mean. let me know in a private message and ill edit a block of this piece.
cheers
SinnerASaint reviewed Version 2 -
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My overall opinion of this piece was that it was above average. The imagery was by far the most impressive. It was descriptive and easily painted a crystal clear picture. Another attribute that was impressive was the dialogue. It flowed smoothly and was fairly realistic. The transitions were smooth as well. Best of luck.
Spiritfire reviewed Version 2 -
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good beginning. suspenseful. great details but not so much as to bore the reader. especially about the white tiger. Good describtion of the room, and his alcoholic problems. good mystery surrounding Albiento, though if he does not play a part in the continuing story, it is a bit irrelevant.
Good twist with Zareb. “so the manservant was more than a common lackey.” nice language so far, I would guess either 1800’s or early-ish 1900’s. Zareb’s quote was cut in two “I have known Mr. Randolph..” intentional or not, it confuses the reader. Proof read.
Zareb like roses and gardens, interesting for the reader to ponder.
you’re good at unfolding the characters’ history and smaller details slowly. good timing and details.
too many quotation marks everywhere, and half of them are not in the right place. proof read.
work on the details of “The Beast” it’s too stereotypical of a “it’s-the-devil-it’s-scary-looking” beast from a children’s book. one would expect something a bit more dramatic. Perhaps take that part out all together and focus more on after he left the cell. “devoid of life” “what would he write?” more suspense and lets The Beast remain as mysterious and legandary as it was.
“Where is Edward?” if this is a short story too many names for one character will confuse the reader.
It ends too abruptly. Also “like the teeth of an old-fashioned cross-saw eating into wood” has already been repeated too many times before. perhaps take out that sentense completely.
Good job. Nice suspense in the beginning. Interesting twist with Tressa and Zareb. It seems a little too long for the usual short story, but it’s pretty good. Just PROOF READ.
ajodom reviewed Version 2 -
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Hello, this is good as usual, but I do have a couple of things you might want to look at:
“Yes, she is quite exotic.” This sentence is in the present tense, while the rest of the story is in the past tense, or was it an exact interpretation of Nick’s thoughts. I couldn’t tell.
“He was feeling very week this morning.” I think you meant “weak” not the week that you used.
There are also so places where it was hard to tell where your dialogue begins or ends because you forget the quotation marks. I would have to go back and read the sentences more than once to make sure.
Overall, this is just as good as the previous times that I have read it. I think now it just a matter of cleaning up the little grammar errors (there weren’t a lot). Very Well, done
hypatia reviewed Version 2 -
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A brilliant story. I feel breathless and on the edge of my seat after reading it. What a dramatic finale – brilliant. Thank you for sharing. I hope my comments below are of some use to you.
“I escaped,” Nick said (in) a smug tone.
torches were scattered (the) about the grounds
while reading through (the) Randolph’s journals.
his way (from) through the hall and down the spiral staircase to the first floor where he met (and) Zareb.
I will call Carl and have him check (and/to) make sure
and had (a) jovial manner.
“Ok(,) it’s all clear.
can (I) do for you Tressa?
He (had) tossed and turned in bed,
He smell her perfumed hair as it fell about his naked shoulders
Her perfumed hair fell about his naked …..
(their/her) nipples erect
through (the/an) oblong window
then (she) picked up momentum
while (an) almost guttural moan
boring(ly) into his.
but his mouth felt (too dry) – as dry as cotton, read earlier.
Zareb was s(e)tting up Nick’s breakfast tray
“Bullshit” Nick spat.
Then (a) female voice
the glass (l) cabinets that reached from floor to ceiling, and held every conceivable type
He suddenly (to) felt sick (at) to his stomach
(“)Randolph is in there. Now open the damned …
Later on the terrace Nick lit (a) cabañ
he stumbled upon a statue of a gargoyle near an(d) old
was so much a part of his memory
Nick (he) made his way toward the double
and made his way (and) over to the wall phone,
The black devil Panther can hide(,) change shapes,
remembered (the) look of terror in Albiento’s eyes
CapnBlueballs reviewed Version 2 -
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You put a lot of hard work into this and it shows. In your struggle against the allure of the comma, you’ve progressed to the point where you’re using to few. I’m no English major, so I’ll let others fill you in on that subject. The general puncuation falters in other places as well, but a simple edit should correct these easily enough. Again, I defer to those more qualified than I to point them out.
As to content, I enjoyed the story, but did have a couple of issues I wanted to address in the interest of realism. Being a recovering alcoholic (three years sober), I can tell you the whole issue of Nick’s two years worth of sobriety is a little murky. He doesn’t seem the type to quit drinking without first bottoming out and the issue of his culpability in his friends death was never explained.
The beast was just a mixture of common animals; strange, but not horrifying.
Zareb is sometimes a pygmy, and sometimes not. You went so far as to describe him as ‘tall’ at one point.
You’ve done well. Apart from some minor issues, you have a nice story on your hands. Good luck.
obamafu reviewed Version 1 -
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Sandy,
On your note for reviewers: I hold a deep respect for all punctuation, affording it, perhaps, even a greater presence than it deserves. But then, as Mis van der Roe said, “God is in details”. So, your punctuation is safe with me.
I do not read any other reviews prior to working on a piece, so, if I repeat someone’s comments, it is still an independent opinion.
This is a first reading – I left out several dozen smaller things, at least.
A general note: I am an enemy of any cliches, but writers use them sometimes to strengthen the image, to smooth out the speech etc. If you want me to clean them up – it is a job best left for the second/third/etc. revision.
Speech has to be adjusted for all personages. They speak without a consistent character to each of them. You have to interject a little of Devonshire onto Randolph, a little Dakota or whatever into Nick’s etc. Otherwise, they blend.
“hallway directly ahead of where they stood.” – “hallway directly ahead.”
“Perhaps when you are settled” – “Perhaps, when you are settled”
“Yes I would very much like to see what kind of gun he used on his last safari to Hells Gates.” – “Yes, I’d very much like to see what he shot on his last safari to Hell’s Gates.” this way, they could be talking about both guns and trophies. Also, I noticed a few other places where the apostrophe is missing in “Hell’s Gate” (the story title, too).
“His eyes roamed over the big sitting room with its array of impressive trophies mounted on the white walls.” Was he walking thourhg it? Did he enter through it? How his eyes started roaming? Previous sentence said where his own room was, but we do not see him where he is at the moment. You could say “As he walked through the sitting room,” or “On the way,” or something to give it a sense of position/direction.
“His eyes moved appreciatively over the white Siberian tiger” – his eyes just roamed in the previous sentence… a repetition.
“the most allusive of all tigers and the most endangered of its species.” – you may have meant “elusive”, and the white tiger is not a separate species – it is simply a mutant, carrying a certain different gene. A white Siberian Tiger (or, more properly, Ussuri Tiger) is unknown – all known cases are crossbred specimens (with Bengal tigers, which in many cases were intentionally bred in captivity for display by Indian rulers). Perhaps, it is the “most rare”, rather than “most endagered”.
“He was impressed with the size of its massive head and its fluffy white fur with dark markings about its face.” – a bit bland for a description.
“He thought it was almost swallowed up in the color of the matching wall” – “He thought it was almost swallowed up in the matching color of the wall”, and the olor of white tiger is not close to the Sherwin-Williams type white. Look at the tiger’s pics on the Net. Swallowed up is too strong of a term. Now – was it a head mount? A skin mount? An entire tiger mount? Makes a difference in how it would be seen. Usually, tigers are not mounted on the wall (will look like a large plastered cat, and you would not be able to see its eyes, the way you describe) – people make a full standing mount, the entire tiger, or the classic “tiger rug” – skin with head and paws intact (hunters are always trying to show off the trophy to its fullest, and a rare one especially). I don’t doubt your imagination, just never saw a tiger head mounted alone.
“save for the eyes, a sea blue in color which were quite large in proportion and regarded Nick coldly.” – “save for the sea-blue eyes, quite large in proportion, which regarded Nick coldly.” You have to remember that the color is rather sky-blue (not greenish), and that all taxidermy mounts have glass eyes, and the look is (even on the best of them) – well, glassy…
“There were other impressive heads of various smaller tigers” – does not sound right. The white tiger is not larger than the orange one. And “various smaller tigers” sounds too generic – especially, considering the fact that all tigers out there are related species, and are about the same size.
“two large elks mounted on the adjacent wall.” – elks from where? There are no elks in Africa (North America and Eastern Asia only). I thought you were building an athmosphere of a local hunting lodge…
“Nick recognized the spotted skin that was spread like a rug near the fireplace. It was that of a young Tjololo tiger.” – this is a tiger kind unknown to me. The spotted skin belongs to a leopard (Africa) or to a jaguar
(South America). The name Tjololo (I don’t know what it means) has been used in Africa in conjunction with leopards (tigers do not live in Africa).
“Nick nodded wondering where the head of the beast was kept if such thing existed.” – is it supposed to have been mentioned in the earlier part of the story? If not, it may help if you drop another reference to it somewhere here. Or change the sentence order. Remembrance of the growl first, remembrance of the head second.
“Had the alcohol he’d drunk the evening of the safari distorted reality?” – needs to be more specific, less distant – not alcohol, but a specific drink (whiskey, gasoline, whatever). A man would not refer to the alcohol generically, especially, a man having a hard time keeping himself sober. You sound as someone who does not drink (or, maybe, as someone who does not approve of drinking) – and it does not match his image here.
“There is a house phone that allows you to connect with the staff in case you need anything.” – “There is a house phone, to call the staff in case you need anything.” – you do not connect to the staff when you are on safari. The staff are servants, and a certain distance is always there. You call servants or order them.
“The last meal will be served at six o’clock,” – maybe, “The last meal here is served at six o’clock,”, unless it is THE LAST meal.
“Looking around he was struck by its bland eggshell walls and faded dark curtains. Compared to the austere rooms of the house toured earlier, his quarters were almost shabby.” – your construct implies that “austere” and shabby are opposites or far removed. And it ain’t so. These adjectives do not exclude each other, but are simply different. A stylistic inconsistency here. Maybe, “Compared to the austere grandeur of the house, his quarters were almost shabby.”
“Feeling the deep urge to smoke a fat (caban – do not recognize the name… perhaps, an obscure shape…, and I have been a cigar smoker for close to 20 years…)” – men get the urge to smoke, not to smoke something specific. Maybe, “Feeling the deep urge to smoke, he lit up one of fat (whatever) he had with him”. Cigar smokers rarely refer to the size of the cigar (i.e. chateau, double chateau, corona, torpedo, etc.), more often to the maker (Fuente’s, Upmann’s), or source (Cuban, Dominican, Mexican).
“his own impudence.” – a fancy word for this spot, no?
“strange yellow-flecked pupils” – pupils are always black, irises (and eyes as whole) have color.
“Nick’s eyes fell” – again, sounds like a repetition. His eyes should not behave separately from him.
“The familiar craving suddenly” – “The familiar thirst suddenly”
“Nick had had two years of sobriety and had struggled through every day.” this is not an AA meeting notes. ”Nick was dry (or “on the wagon”) for two years now, but still struggled through every day.”
“He had hated being sober; had hated the mundane existence that comes to any man who has known the pre-eminence of alcohol.” – “He hated being sober and hated the mundane existence brought by sobriety to any man who has known the sense of life brought by the drink.”
“Without it life takes on a kind of meaningless shape; one lacking color and taste, minus the lovely heady feeling of greatness and freedom that the spirits give a man.” – “Without it, life took on a meaningless shape; colorless, tasteless, lacking the heady greatness and cheery freedom that spirits give to a man.”
“Since Albiento had died that horrible death in the Congo, Nick had sworn off liquor” – country of Congo? Congo river? Congo jungle? “the Congo” what?
“his inability” – “his failure”
“Nick thoughts turned to the ice-bucket.” – “But still, Nick thoughts returned to the ice-bucket.”
“a newborn babe.” – “a newborn baby.” or “a newborn.”
“Suddenly a long black hand appeared and snatched up the decanter.” – appeared from – behind, left, right, ceiling?
“Nick startled turned just in time to look into the dark expressionless eyes of the manservant.” – “Startled, Nick turned just in time to look into the dark expressionless eyes of the manservant.” – a manservant would not behave as to startle a guest like that. He would ask first. You described almost as a magician’s trick.
“You don’t mind if I have a glass, do you?” asked the deep voice.” – this is not an African servant speaking, but an equal.
“he threw the half spent” – “he threw the half-spent”
“and on to the ground, Back inside Nick said, i nver cared for rules. They insult my somehow. Zareb smiled a rather mallicious smile and said nothing.” – something got jumbled up here, with punctuation, and the word order – ”, Back” “i nver”, “my somehow”, and something missing in connection to the next sentence. Just fix it.
“mallicious smile and said nothing.” – second time you are mentioning malice (first was Zareb’s eyes earlier).
“I didn’t know lackeys partook in their employer’s stock,” – a bit disrespectful, coming from “Sahib”, so to speak (do not use – Sahib is an Asian term)...
“I like the drink as much as anyone” – “I like to drink as much as anyone”
“Nick felt disappointment and a little angry at himself” – “Nick felt disappointment and a little anger at himself” or “Nick felt disappointed and a little angry at himself” or “Nick felt disappointment and was a little angry at himself”, to match.
“His association with Randolph was more friendly than business. And he was a lot smarter than Nick had first thought.” – where this knowledge came from? from being a doctor? a bit fast…
“I know most of his secrets” – a missing period.
“the beast legend calls” – “the beast that the legend calls”
“The variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of the flowers seem to go on forever.” – “The variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of the flowers seemed to go on forever.”
“The estate, itself, had a large orange grove which met with lush flat shaved lawn that eventually disappeared into a wide forest.” – the lay of the land is unclear. Lawns are usually close to the house. Maybe, an open field?
“Nick said, lighting a cigar.” – “Nick said, lighting another cigar.”
“this so-called beast Randolph refers too” – “this so-called beast Randolph refers to”
“If I don’t see the head of the beast then I leave. Got it!” – “If I don’t see the head of the beast, I leave. Got it?”
“drained his glass. His dark eyes still riveted on Nicks.” – “drained his glass, his dark eyes still riveted on Nick’s.” or “on Nick.”
“I am a native of the Congo. I know of the rainforest, Hell’s Gates, and about the devil creature.” – “I am a native here. I know the rainforest, Hell’s Gates, and I know about the devil creature.”
“Nick said a smug tone.” – “Nick said in/with a smug tone.”
“No. As a native of the Congo I understand what it means to respect nature. The pygmies are mainly a carnivorous group. We eat meat and sometimes kill small animals, but more out of necessity and not blood sport. Have you ever wondered why Albiento was savagely killed while his Pygmy guide was left alive?” – was Zareb a Pygmy? then, he should have been marked as the small-statured man, earlier. Or he was a Bantu (which is what most Congolese are now)? Different kind of people. Also, “not blood sport” – “not as a blood sport” or something like that.
“seemed to know every aspect of his life.” – “seemed to know a bit too much of his life.”
“The tray of what appeared to be salmon, crackers,” – “The tray of salmon, crackers,” for “appeared to be” it is too much of a description.
“Yes. I am Tressa,” she mumbled in broken English – you cannot mumble three simplest words in broken English. Maybe, in accented or colored or whatever. English becomes broken either in grammar or pronunciation – but with these three words, it is hard to do.
“tray with the same food items meant for him set on a folding table adjacent to Randolph.” – “tray with the same food set for him on a folding table next to Randolph.”
“Yes, she is quite exotic.” – “Yes, she was/looked quite exotic.”
“he took in the Amazon, South America, and of course, the Congo” – an inconsistent enumeration. Maybe, “Amazon basin and all over South America, and of course, the Congo.” Safari is an African term. I have not heard them applying it to South American hunts.
“Nick withdrew a Caban” – from where? and again, Caban.
“I hear it’s a nice little place” – a period missing.
“Randolph’s thick brows knitted together in retrospect.” – how did they knit?
“My father was a hunter and brought me to Kenya on a safari when I was barely 12-years-old.” – “My father was a hunter and brought me to Kenya on a safari when I was barely twelve.”
BTW, Sandy, you need to clean up all the missing/extra quotation marks in all dialogs.
“When I graduated college” – “After graduation” (mention where he is from – where he went to school – people always name that in conversations).
“paying close scrutiny.” – to (something)
“brought two coffees with bourbon” – if it was in coffee, Nick would not know until he smelled it. If it was on the side – say it.
“Gesturing toward Randolph he said” – “Gesturing toward Randolph, he said”
“for the numbness and the forgetfulness that came with the fragrant drink.” – and he would not get either from a shot of bourbon in coffee, and he knows it. Maybe, “for the release that” or “for the reminder that”?
“a few sips of the drink” – “a few sips”
“so that its rays won’t fade the outwards appearance of the beast.” – “to preserve the fur/skin/hide/whatever of the beast.”
“A Pygmy cannot look upon a beast so revered.” – so, he was a Pigmy – this calls for additional description earlier.
“he placed the biggest key” – I thought it was the same key, no?
“its nose was wide like that of the melanistic leopard” – a black panther? “melanistic” carries too much of a scientific bent for this kind of story.
“the kind he had seen in North America years before.” – leopards in North America? Where? Zoo?
“drew fright from the onlooker” – does not sound right. Instill fright in or draw fright from – two different things.
“color was black and tinged with a speck yellow” – “color was black, tinged with a specked yellow”
“The eyes looked sadistic he thought” – and how exactly sadistic eyes look?
“during the last minutes of his life.” – “during the last moments of his life.”
“After a few moments” – “After a few seconds”
“He paused just a moment, ears” – something missing here, an incomplete sentence.
“the sky was of a blue black” – the tropical sky at night is closer to plain black.
“scattered the about the grounds with” – “scattered about the grounds with”
“Although it had some characteristics of the cougar” – too much of a variety in felines – leopard, tiger, and now, cougar.
“there was certain ferociousness about its countenance that seemed absent in the depiction of these beasts.” – too flowery of a phrase.
“How could he accurately describe it when most of how he felt about it existed in implicit description?” – this is always the case, and he is not a newbie.
“the dripping trees” – dripping because of what?
“After his cigar was spent” – “After his cigar was finished”
“the fur of the exotic animals.” – “the exotic furs and skins.”
“walked over to the decanter, touched it cold glass,” – “walked over to the decanter, touched its cold glass,”
“the lovely smooth liquid fire.” – a normal man would not use the word “lovely” for anything, except maybe, “You look lovely naked” kind of thing.
“warmed his stomach in such a lovely way.” – “lovely” again.
“Suddenly he felt himself erect, even his manhood sparked to life. For a long time it had lay flaccid, but now, he looked down and saw the proof of his virility.” – sounds more comical than passionate/inspiring. You have to speak plainly to make it erotic (unless this is intentionally written for the lonely housewifes romance club), if this is a desired effect. Maybe, “Suddenly he felt an erection, unexpected, without any warning. It just sparked to life, after a long time of quiet.”
“Life once again sparkled” – sparkled twice in two consecutive sentences.
“Alcohol had away of allaying Nick’s fears and angst.” – “Alcohol had a way of allaying Nick’s fears and angst.”
“By nature, he was passionate about his work but sometimes docile when it came to looking back in retrospect at his life.” – sort of empty sentence. Maybe, “He lived with passion for work and life, in his present, but in reminiscing about the past, the passion was gone, muted.”
“his work satisfied every aspect of him.” – I think something can satisfy desires or wishes but not aspects. An “aspect” is static – no vector.
“no lovely dark- skinned girl” – “lovely” again.
“Here’s to you my dead friends” – “Here’s to you, my dead friends”
“may you rest in peace and I never die.” – “may you rest in peace and may I never die.”
“He drank until the decanter was almost empty and then the world faded to black.” – “He continued to drink, until the decanter was almost empty, and then the world faded to black.”
“then drank the foul liquid, tasting just a hint of bourbon.” – the best hangover remedy: a raw egg yolk, a few drops of Worchestershire sauce, and hot sauce, and fresh-ground black pepper to top, in a shotglass. Repeat 2-3 times. Alcoholics drink 2-3 ounces of liquor straight – also helps, but adds to one continuing to be an alcoholic…
“before I start any writings.” – “before I start any writing.”
“feeling very week this morning.” – “feeling very weak this morning.”
“I can’t help you Mr. Stuart.” – “I can’t help you, Mr. Stuart.”
“It was akin to a thought on the edge of remembrance and then it is lost.” – “It was akin to a thought on the edge of remembrance and then it was lost.”
“Now if you will pardon me.” – “Now, if you will pardon me…”
“Without further ado he went upstairs” – “Without further ado, he went upstairs”
“where the decanter stood replenished of its amber liquid.” – “where the decanter stood, replenished.”
“he lit a Caban” – again.
“the drink’s lovely effect.” – “lovely” again.
“Why put a trophy behind something like that.” – he should have asked himself about this first time he saw it.
“where he met and Zareb.” – “where he met Zareb.”
“his eyes appeared glazed from the scotch.” – ”, his eyes glazed from the scotch.”
“Zareb picked up the the house phone from off its nook in the corner.” – “Zareb picked up the house phone.”
Just a note: I am trying to cut extra words when they are not needed, and to ask you for more descriptive things, when there is not enough of them.
“and had jovial manner. Nick needed jovial or something reminiscent of the outside world.” – “and had jovial manner. Nick needed that. Or something, something reminiscent of the normal outside world.”
“He had been at Little Kenya for two days, but thought it felt more like two years.” – this is a sudden revelation. I thought he was enjoying it. Cigars, drinks, beasts…
“There was something about the atmosphere of the house that reminded him of a black and white episode of the Twilight Zone.” – “There was something about the atmosphere of the house that reminded him NOW of a black and white episode of the Twilight Zone.”
“one lost the feeling of fear after having spent countless nights in Pygmy huts in the rainforests.” – not a good metaphor for “scary”.
“But something wasn’t right here at Little Kenya.” – what is “Little Kenya”? And why “Kenya”?
“It’s better to be safe, than sorry.” – “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“You might want to watch out Nick stuttered.” – “You might want to watch out, Nick stuttered.”
“but they’re a lot of strange species roamin about the jungle.” – “but there’s a lot of strange species roamin about the jungle.”
“made Nick chuckle and his nerves seemed less wired.” – “made Nick chuckle and his nerves seemed less wired NOW.”
“Are you going in sir?” – “Are you going in, sir?”
“Maybe the beast was in actuality, some kind of rare breed of leopard or better yet, was truly the allusive panther the Pygmies talked about.” -bad commas, allusive=elusive? another cat – panther?
“Nick stepped out on the terrace and lit a Caban” – again.
“he had since he’d he first stepped foot into the doors of Little Kenya.” – “he had since he’d first set his foot into the doors of Little Kenya.”
“Carl had somehow put the normalcy back in the otherwise, surreal atmosphere.” – “Carl had somehow put the normalcy back in the, otherwise surreal, atmosphere.” or no commas at all.
“a feminine voice spoke.” – “a female voice spoke.”
“What can i do for you Tressa?” – “What can I do for you, Tressa?”
“I just stop to speak to you. No one else much around.” – “I stop speak to you. No one much around.” – instead of repeating that her English was broken, just break it visibly. The first thing broken in broken English is the absence of proper time/tense and the absence of “service” verbs. Also, necessarily, short sentences.
“Not good. He has fever and must have someone close by.” – “Not good. Fever. Must have me close by.”
“Doctor Zareb will call for me.” – “Doctor Zareb call me.”
“the poor girl must have felt here in this mausoleum of decadence.” – had not seen any decadence yet – where this came from?
“Nick could not find sleep.” – “Nick could not sleep.”
“He now lay in the semi- darkness on his back naked and coverless,” – “He now lay in the semi-darkness on his back, naked and coverless,”
“Little Kenya, a lonely place haunted by the ghost of a blood thirsty past.” – “Little Kenya, a lonely place haunted by the ghost of a bloodthirsty past.”, and this sentence belongs to the beginning of the story.
“When all was said in done” – “When all was said and done”
“an ugly unknown species hanging” – “an ugly beast of unknown species hanging”
“in a room gathering dust?” – “in a room, gathering dust?”
“whiskey laden sleep.” – “whiskey-laden sleep.”
“I need company in darkness of night. Little Kenya is forsaken for people.” – “I need company. Dark night. Little Kenya scary.” – no way someone would use word “forsaken” in broken English…
“Narrowing his eyes in the direction of the wall clock he noted that it showed 2 Am.” – “Narrowing his eyes in the direction of the wall clock, he noted that it showed 2 Am.”
“her loveliness.” – this is about the first time “lovely” is ok.
“She was wearing what looked like a man’s white shirt” – “She was wearing a man’s white shirt”
“Nick Swallowed hard” – “Nick swallowed hard”
“while her hands found and stroked his naked erectness.” – “while her hands found and stroked him.”
“let her have her way with him.” – again, a bit more funny that passionate.
“He could smell her perfumed hair as it fell about his naked shoulders.” – I thought she had curls, but not long – ?
“her teeth were very sharp as they nibbled his earlobe and neck.” – they were sharp all along… Maybe, “her sharp teeth nibbled his earlobe and neck.”
“The moon shone through oblong window casting light on her smooth skin.” – “The moon shone through oblong window, casting light on her smooth skin.”, otherwise, which one was casting light – the moon or the window?
“And then she slid his hard erectness inside of her and rocked back and forth;” – “And then she slid him inside of her, and started rocking back and forth;”
“as he hands caressed her taut breasts.” – “as his hands caressed her taut breasts.”
“What is happening?” She cried. – “What happen?”, she cried.
“Nick started to speak but his mouth felt as dry as cotton.” – second time, cotton.
“he finally managed hoarsely.” – “he finally managed, hoarsely.”
“It was the alcohol he decided, knowing that too much of it could mess with a man’s head.” – too rational, and too didactic. No man talks to himself in this way.
“He thought of the little nurse, Tressa, and felt deep shame. He had thrown her to the floor like some bully.” – no way. He may have regretted getting scared, ‘cause he did not get to enjoy her more, but no way a tough man in the African jungle would suddenly start off on a sensitivity trail…
“Would she tell Randolph or even Zareb? Somehow he doubted it.” – why would he care? She came to him, by herself.
“A deep sickness rose in his throat and he barely made it to the bathroom commode where he vomited copiously.” – why? it’s his own blood, and his own scratches.
“Nick shaved, dressed and went downstairs into the library to find it once again void of the old hunter.” –
“Nick shaved, dressed and went downstairs into the library to find it, once again, void of the old hunter.”
“Zareb was sitting up” – “Zareb was setting up”
“favoring a Caban, instead.” – not likely, not with a hangover. Cigars are not smoked like cigarettes – it is more of a calm thing, not of a have-to-have-it-this-minute thing. I know: I smoke from 3-4 up to 6-7 every day.
“Still ill I am afraid. Perhaps he will feel up to company tomorrow,” – “Still ill, I am afraid. Perhaps, he will feel up to company tomorrow,”
“Bullshit Nick” spat.” – fix quotation marks.
“If you will show me to his room I will visit him there. My patience only goes so far doctor.” – “If you will show me to his room, I will visit him there. My patience only goes so far, doctor.” – and I do not see the reason for his rush, not really. He is a guest, he has fun, something interesting is happening (even if scary – but he is a reporter, or ex-reporter) – what is there to be upset about? Not very believable.
“You can’t no visit Mr. Edward today” – “You no visit Mr. Edward today”.
“Tressa dressed in a prim white nurse’s uniform with a little lace cap.” – I think I already read this above or below once.
“Him sick with fever; city doctor will come to see him today. Maybe you see him tonight” – “Him sick with fever. City doctor come see him. You see him tonight, maybe.”
“she offered in broken English.” – just show the dialog.
“everyone in the house heard whoever everyone was.” – “everyone in the house heard, whoever this everyone was.”
“Zareb, said,” – “Zareb said,”
“Nick ran his hands through his hair.” – I think he does it too often. He is not a TV model; he is a real man.
“I read those damned journals” – when?
“about his early life.”- they were old, not new – ?
“I don’t know what to tell you Mr. Stuart.” – “I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Stuart.”
“which floor that he was on.” – “which floor he was on.”
“But he damned sure planned to find out.” – “But he damned sure was going to find out.”
“out into the hall mounted the stairs to the second floor.” – “out into the hall, and mounted the stairs to the second floor.”
“How many slaughtered with these weapons?” – an incomplete sentence. “were slaughtered”? “animals were slaughtered”?
“It favored a large shotgun, but made broader through the stock, and its barrel was shorter.” – sounds like gibberish. Something missing.
“Retrieving his bifocals from his pocket, he placed them on his nose” – I think he already did it (or does it) elsewhere – exact same phrase twice.
“how they were deemed more powerful than even the elephant gun.” Elephant gun is not a shotun or a scattergun – it is a powerful rifle (calibers .400 plus – 440, 458, 460). We talked about this before.
“Nick figured that since it was a powerful scatter shot, it might have blown the animal apart.” – wrong. A shotgun will not kill a big beast. Rifle only.
“He suddenly to felt sick at his stomach.” – again, awfully sensitive of him…
“He cracked the door and found it empty.” – “He cracked the door and found the room empty.”, not the door.
“He then moved down to the next one and tried the knob but it did not give.” – “He then moved down to the next one and tried the knob, but it did not give.”
“Randolph is in there. Now open the damned door!
You need to come with me Mr. Stuart.” – lost quotation marks, comma before Mr.
“Zareb grabbed Nick’s arm in a vice grip, and forcefully led him down the hall into the sitting room. Nick tried to break free but couldn’t move.” – unless someone uses a wrestling hold, it is not that easy for a small pigmy to lead a big man anywhere…
“Now loosing his grip,” – “Now loosening his grip,”
“he is a dying man;” – suddenly?
“if you feel so strongly in your suspicions,” – “if you feel so strongly about your suspicions,”
“why not go for the telephone and call the authorities?” – “why not go to the telephone and call the authorities?”
“your little counterpart with the canines, either.” – “your little sharp-toothed helper, either.”
“Later on the terrace Nick lit cabañ and stared at the decanter” – he does both too often.
“lovingly brought with him to the table.” – “lovingly” a wrong word.
“variety of lovely flowers” – “lovely” no more…
“He wondered where Carl had gone Carl being the most ordinary thing about the estate.” – I am not going to make any more notes on punctuation. You should clean it by yourself – first quotation marks, then periods. Then we can start talking about commas.
Gorgoyle’s eyes – sculpture, right? – could not have had the same appearance. Very distant image. Use a homeless crazy man. Use a snake in a zoo. Use a poster with poked out eyes. Something. Not gargoyle.
“all the teke torches were lit in the courtyard.” – too often about the teke torches lit in the yard. Vary the descriptions.
“he noted the scotch decanter was lying on the terrace floor” – not broken?
“Reeling backwards, he gained momentum. Feeling blindly for the handle, he found it and pulled it open.” – why these sudden moves? What caused them?
“Suddenly her mouth opened revealing a long set of canines.” – canines, fangs – vary the descriptions. Gets monotonous.
“Nick considered himself a realist.” – too slow of a phrase for this specific spot in the story.
“Before he spent time in Kenya and the African jungles” – I think Kenya does not have jungles. Kenya is more of a prairie-type place, no?
“he never prescribed to the belief in the supernatural.” – “he never subscribed to the belief in the supernatural.”
“thick vegetative landscape.” – “landscape thick with vegetation” or something like that.
“Nick could almost here the walls breathe” – “hear”, not “here”
“loud roar like someone sawing wood with a cross saw.” – again,you need a different image.
“the pea graveled walkway.” – second time.
“staggering and mumbling incomprehensibly. Nick staggered off” – and there were about a half-dozen of staggerings before. Vary the verbs.
“Almost in a mechanical fashion,” – “Almost mechanically,”
“its powerful jaws opened wide revealing long white fangs.” – “its powerful jaws opened wide, revealing long white fangs.”
“A horrible roar like that of someone pushing a cross saw through a log shattered the stillness.” – then the construction workers would be running around terrified all the time, would not they? You have to find a better
image, because it is a key image that you use later.
“He could hear its loud, animalistic growls” – animalistic applied to the animal… not good.
“as it tore into the old mans neck, ripping and snapping bone;” – “as it tore into the old man’s neck, ripping and snapping bones,”
“Nick did not run because he knew to do so would be futile.” – “Nick did not run. It was useless.”
“Pygmies were a part of the African jungle. Zareb was a pygmy and the spirit of Devil cat had entered his body that night of its death on the Congo.” – I know this is your main idea – but by itself, it is fairly simple. Flesh it out – make it believable – probably, by leading up to it a little better.
“All he could do now was sit and wait. There was nowhere else to go the beast stood regarding him with him obscene eyes. A loud roar broke the stillness. Nick knew the sound. It was like the teeth of old-fashioned cross-saw eating into wood…” – “All he could do now was to sit and wait, nowhere else to go. The beast stood regarding him with obscenely (something) eyes. A loud roar broke the stillness. Nick knew the sound. (It was like the teeth of old-fashioned cross-saw eating into wood… – this one has to go…)”
For some reason, as I read yours. I remembered Hemingway’s “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber”, pulled up the text on the Net and quickly re-read it – try, it may help (something in it may click for you, a good story).
Main holes in this draft: the Pigmy thing (they were smaller in stature, not very small, but smaller, Bantu are larder – and you have to take care of this throughout the story), repetitions, non-distinct speech, lots of cliches (as in predictable pairs adjective/noun), messed up punctuation in dialogs and monologue (I think you should proofread a little more, when you are posting, because it is hard to read, especially the longer pieces, when all the quotation marks get messed up).
Nothing implied here, but just a question: “Why write about the hunting and exotic animals (with all related and highly specific circumstances), if it is an unfamiliar territory for you?” I guess the same question can be re-phrased as “Who would be in the audience you are writing for?”
Hope this helps.
ajodom reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
I liked this when I first reviewed this, and that haven’t changed. The story was very good thrill ride that I really enjoyed.
I know that you said that you wanted to fix your issues with commas (I understand your pain on that one). However, in this sentence: “You cannot smoke in these quarters. But there is a terrace just off from your room.” Zareb informed him. You actually should have used a comma after room. Or you could split the dialoge with “Zareb informed him” in between the two sentences in the quotation.
“There was nowhere else to go the beast stood regarding him with him obscene eyes.” Be careful of run-ons.
jthorn28 reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
I think the core of the story is very interesting, and makes me want to read further. The idea is great, and I think this could be a great novel. Having said that, I am not feeling a strong connection with the main character, Nick, which I really like to have as a reader. I think maybe just softening up his character a bit would really help. I realize he’s a seasoned rough and tough writer, but he seems a little stand offish, even amongst the strange characters in the story. The only other critique I have is to tighten up on the typos, which is nitpicking, and could be cured by a thourough rereading. Overall. Great idea, and good research.
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