umm...I'll call this "Sanoturo"
PostPosted: Wed Oct 22, 2003 4:19 pm
Well this is the beginning of the story...depending i can easily make this into a book..but well let's try a Chapter 
THis is part of a chapter... warning: images of blood only because it is war time...this person is a samurai who is ordered by the govt. to persecute Christians...throughout the story he will be asking himself if what he is doing and following the Truth...it is a little bloody but i think it has to be done in order for the full effect of this person's life to be felt....Thankyou!
Chapter 1
Sweat dripped off his face like a cascading waterfall. He ran faster and faster. Trying to forget as the trees images blurred past. He saw a farmers house. Screaming at the occupants to leave, he threw himself into the barn as the occupants stared then retired again to their rooms, weary of this bloodied stranger. Santuro stared down at himself. Blood dripped down his arm, his sword and was splattered across his clothing like a child splashed paint. But this isn't paint he reminded himself, no it is a person's life source. He fought the urge to vomit once more. He noticed a trough full of water and immersed himself, washing the blood, watching it as it runned down his arm and tainted the water below. He gasped, all he could remeber was the blood. He sat down weariness overcoming him. Hair long sinced falling out of it's bun, desheveled and matted with another's blood. It had been raining blood, he thought, fighting conciousness, did i do the right thing? Was it the right thing? He repeated this to himself almost like a lullaby, trying to shut out the screams of his victims. Those Christians, he spat as if it was a curse word, they prayed for him as they were slaughtered for their belief in God. He vomited again. Did I do the right thing? They weren't pleading for their own lives...instead they were pleading for mine. Did I do the right thing? Santuro, a 15-year-old samurai, slipped out of conciousness.
It was morning again when he woke. The bright sun doing nothing to shut out his demons. The screams could be heard again. He tried to shut them out. Anything to shut them out. He felt himself being dragged somewhere. No stop, his weakened arms doing nothing to defend himself. He slipped out of conciousness and darkness consumed him once more.
_____________________________________________________________
Glory to God and to the Lamb!!!
THis is part of a chapter... warning: images of blood only because it is war time...this person is a samurai who is ordered by the govt. to persecute Christians...throughout the story he will be asking himself if what he is doing and following the Truth...it is a little bloody but i think it has to be done in order for the full effect of this person's life to be felt....Thankyou!
Chapter 1
Sweat dripped off his face like a cascading waterfall. He ran faster and faster. Trying to forget as the trees images blurred past. He saw a farmers house. Screaming at the occupants to leave, he threw himself into the barn as the occupants stared then retired again to their rooms, weary of this bloodied stranger. Santuro stared down at himself. Blood dripped down his arm, his sword and was splattered across his clothing like a child splashed paint. But this isn't paint he reminded himself, no it is a person's life source. He fought the urge to vomit once more. He noticed a trough full of water and immersed himself, washing the blood, watching it as it runned down his arm and tainted the water below. He gasped, all he could remeber was the blood. He sat down weariness overcoming him. Hair long sinced falling out of it's bun, desheveled and matted with another's blood. It had been raining blood, he thought, fighting conciousness, did i do the right thing? Was it the right thing? He repeated this to himself almost like a lullaby, trying to shut out the screams of his victims. Those Christians, he spat as if it was a curse word, they prayed for him as they were slaughtered for their belief in God. He vomited again. Did I do the right thing? They weren't pleading for their own lives...instead they were pleading for mine. Did I do the right thing? Santuro, a 15-year-old samurai, slipped out of conciousness.
It was morning again when he woke. The bright sun doing nothing to shut out his demons. The screams could be heard again. He tried to shut them out. Anything to shut them out. He felt himself being dragged somewhere. No stop, his weakened arms doing nothing to defend himself. He slipped out of conciousness and darkness consumed him once more.
_____________________________________________________________
Glory to God and to the Lamb!!!
You made the reader feel the emotion of the young samurai. However, I would do some edits on how to make it run smoother. Read this out loud and see if you can figure out how you can thin out the wordiness. Also, think over where you need plurals and singular nouns. All and all it's got some very good beginnings. You have a solid idea of what you want and I really love to see that. 
Very good. Write some more.