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Talking to a Brick Wall

by viky7258 

Posted: 02 February 2005
Word Count: 1236
Summary: This is another attempt at yet another genre for me, any feedback on it is welcomed.

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Content Warning
This piece and/or subsequent comments may contain strong language.

The sound of her feet echoed ominously as she walked across the courtyard, announcing her to the world with every step. Cautiously she glanced around as if expecting someone to find her at any moment.

The ground gave way beneath her at the command of her assailant and she plunged into near darkness. Flailing her arms around wildly trying to grab hold of the walls, hoping for a ledge or anything that would stop her descent, but it was hopeless and she knew it. Her cries were pointless, no one would hear her; she was in the bowels of a cellar. Clumsily she landed on the floor, striking her head. The warmth that spread down the side of her face as she lifted her head told her she was bleeding, also in the distance she could hear footsteps getting louder, and sounded like they were getting nearer.
Looking around her she could just about make out her surroundings, which appeared to be an old wine cellar of sorts. In the corner barrels were pushed tightly against the wall and bottles were stacked in racks. Looking around she saw the only source of light was coming from a passage that had a flickering light bulb, which was barely working, halfway down. Looking down the passage she could see the figure of a man coming closer, but the noise of the footsteps did not match his pace.

The approaching man made his way into the cellar and grabbed her roughly about her shoulders lifting her off her feet. In the background the footsteps had abruptly stopped. She had not noticed though, she was fighting against her capture, her clenched fists hitting at his face, legs swinging trying to kick him. He slammed her against a wall, knocking the air out of her, and for a moment the will to fight, but it came back strong and fast. She managed to work an arm free and reached in her coat pocket for the mace spray she always carried. It could blind a man in seconds and surely it would save her at this very moment, but she felt nothing within her pocket, her flatmate must’ve borrowed it without mentioning it to her. The man who had her in his grasps realised she was searching for a weapon and tightened his grip on her and secured her loose arm in his python like grip, but as quickly as he had tightened his grip, he changed positions and threw her fiercely against the wall. She slid down it and slumped at the bottom of it, again he continued his assault against her and this time kick her where she had fell, connecting with her ribs. She felt a sharp pain as two of her ribs snapped like twigs in a child’s hand and protruded into her lungs, they did not puncture it but the pressure on her innards was excruciating. She cried out for help although she knew none would come. It was then that she realised he had stopped his attack and was fumbling with something but through the pain and the darkness she could not focus enough to make out what he was doing, it was only when he stopped moving that she saw what he had. There was hardly any light to shine off the blade but the large knife was unmistakeable as he welded it in his hand, as was the rope that hung loosely from his other.
Up until this point she had managed to control the fear within her and had retained control of her emotions to stop her from panicking and doing the wrong thing, but now they took over and she started to sob, she knew it was no use begging for her life, he had started the kill and she knew he intended to finish it.
Moving closer to her he switched the knife to his other hand, and enjoyed the fear he could almost taste emanating from the girl. He could hear her sobs and enjoyed them, each intake of breathe for the next was the sound of a sweet symphony to him and he almost closed his eyes to enjoy the moment and then realised that this was the moment he had been working towards for so long, the girl would be no trouble, she had seen the knife, he made sure of that, and knew she would not risk an injury at his hands.
‘Come here girl!’ he commanded, although he already knew it was a pointless request; he had heard her ribs snap when he’d kick her and to move would’ve been agony for her. He enjoyed the thought of that.
Against her better judgement she started to plead. ‘Please. Please no more, please don’t hurt me.’
‘Say please with pretty sugar on the top.’ he taunted, laughing at his own pathetic joke.
‘Please’ she began, ‘please with…’
The rest of her sentence did not get finished though, a quick blow to her head with a blunt instrument had made sure of that.
‘Why don’t you just kill them, you sick fuck?’ Said the second man stepping from the shadows as he dropped his weapon.

When she next awoke a single shaft of light was shining pitifully in her eyes. Her hands were bound and so she could not wipe her eyes to clear them of the sticky residue that partially held one of them shut. Turning her head in various angles she managed to see where the light was coming from, but the source of it was getting smaller and dimmer by the second.To her horror she saw why the light was getting fainter.
Barely ten foot in front of where she lay was a brick wall, almost complete, save for a small opening that behind it had something moving across the opening. At first she doubted herself and then knew that what she saw was true. Someone was bricking up the hole, while she was still in the room on her own.
‘Hey. What are you doing? You can’t leave me in here like this.’
A soft laugh came from behind the wall. ‘I can do whatever the fuck I want. That is precisely why you’re where you are princess. Because I wanted you to be.’
She twisted her body round and sat upright, winching with every movement. ‘Please I’m begging you, don’t leave me like this. I can get you money, whatever it is you want, I’ll get it for you.’
Another brick in the hole was her only reply.
‘You can’t just leave me here, let me go. I’ll find a way out. I will.’
‘Who you trying to convince? Me, or you?’
‘Will you shut the fuck up and get on with it, this is taking too long.’ came the second voice.
Picking up on there being two men she tried begging with the second of her captives.
‘Mister, please you can’t let him do this. I’m begging you, make him change his mind.’
Another brick and then another.
‘Please, please with goddamn fucking sugar on the top. Let me out of here!’
One last hole remained. There was silence for a moment and then a face peered through the gap, eyes opened wide, wild with excitement. Through tears she begged one last time, the eyes glimmered as he smiled and then the last brick filled the hole. The darkness was now complete.

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Comments by other Members

Nell at 09:01 on 03 February 2005  Report this post
Hi Vicky. This is a dark and graphic story that depends a lot on the pun in the title. At times it seemed almost too violent, and we have no idea why the two men are doing this to her - perhaps there could be a surprise or a twist at the end to show this?

I think you could work at sharpening up your writing to make it tighter and flow better for the reader. Not a difficult task. Look at adverbs and try to get rid of as many as you can. If possible choose a more apt verb instead. Look at every sentence and ask yourself if you haven't said or shown the same thing already. In para 2 I believe you have 'looking around' or 'looking down' three times, and you tell the reader that she is in a cellar more than once, when there's a great opportunity to show this - in fact you've come close with ...In the corner barrels were pushed tightly against the wall and bottles were stacked in racks... Perhaps if she fell against these and we felt her pain, heard glass breaking, smelled the wine, or if you described the smell and the feel of the cellar it would involve the reader in her experience and bring the location vividly to life.

Look at each word/sentence and ask if it's needed - eg. the man is ...coming closer... at the end of para 2, so you don't need 'approaching' at the beginning of para 3.

The sentence beginning Moving closer... seems to jump from the girl's POV to the man's momentarily - think about staying with her, or it can have the effect of pulling the reader out of the story.

Trust your reader not to need every thing explained, think about 'showing' what's happening rather than stating everything.

Ouch! This seems like a lot of stuff and a harsh crit - sorry. I think though that if you work on the things I've mentioned and worry less about trying different genres it will all come together. It's useful to write about what you know well sometimes, it frees you from certain pressures and allows you to concentrate on the craft itself. But write on, and more power to your typing fingers.


viky7258 at 09:58 on 03 February 2005  Report this post
Hi Nell,

I don't mind harsh critiscm, it all helps so thanks. I'll work on it a bit and see if I can improve on the areas you've mentioned.

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