Locker scene–Demon Guard
Posted by houndrat on Tuesday Sep 15, 2009 Under writingOkay, here’s another scene from the Demon Guard that I keep tweaking and am just not sure I’m nailing.? I’m wondering–is it a problem that I don’t let the reader know what the MC sees in the locker right away?? Do you feel detached from the action?? Any comments about that and anything else greatly appreciated–thanks!
After breakfast, we exited the cafeteria toward the main hallway.? I checked the papers Scruggs gave me yesterday and saw my locker number was 082.? ? “What’s your number?” I asked Cody, as we approached the first rows.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? He juggled his backpack in one hand while fumbling through it with the other.? “Let’s see.? 363.? It’s around the corner—I scoped it out yesterday.”
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? I squinted at the locker numbers in a huge, deserted alcove to my left.? “Well, looks like mine’s in here somewhere.? Catch you later?” ?
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? “Later.”? He started to walk off, but paused, smirking over his shoulder.? “Remember—a smile says ‘I’m approachable—I’d like to be your friend.’”? His voice was high and breathy, like some obnoxious Infomercial host peddling self-help DVDs.?
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? I flipped him the bird.? “Oh yeah?? What does this say?”
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? His laughter carried down the hall as he rounded the corner ahead.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? I waved good-bye to his back, then went in search of my locker.? Rows upon rows of gleaming stainless steel were tucked into the cavernous alcove. My eyes followed the numbers until I spotted 82 up on the highest row.? Nice.? At 5’2”, I wasn’t exactly a giant.? And the dim lighting in here wasn’t going to help much.? Peering up at the dial on my tiptoes, I tumbled the lock, following the combination on my paper.? It clicked on the first try.? ?
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? I pulled open the door and started grabbing my books out of my bag, but paused just before sliding them in. There, in the far back corner, loomed a shadowy mass. ? I sighed and pushed up even higher on my toes to get a better look.? All I could make out was a grayish blob.? Great.? Probably some moldy old hunk of food—hardly my idea of the perfect locker-warming gift.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Gritting my teeth, I reached all the way back inside, flinching when my hand brushed against something moist and squishy.? Disgustingly squishy.? I cursed the former owner while I used my fingertips to slide the blob toward the locker’s opening. ? An instant later, I was jerking my hand away, choking down the stomach acid scorching my throat.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? No way.? It couldn’t be.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Feeling an irrational need to distance myself, I stumbled back and averted my eyes. My heart pounded wildly in my ears.? Finally, after what felt like hours of deep breathing, I was ready to look again. Cautiously, I lifted my gaze to peer inside.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The brain didn’t look any better the second time around, with its glistening, pinkish-gray bulges and twisting furrows. .? And no way in hell was I touching that thing bare-handed again.
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