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Anger flows Upstream (A story)

About 6 months ago, when I first bought RPG Maker XP, I decided to snuff my RM95 projects, and begin a game on my newer version. Problem was, the story concept for the project was long, real long, and I realized that, though I had a humongous storyline with multiple outcomes, I wasn't even sure if people would like it. So, 6 months down the track, I decided I would post here, to my favorite community, and see what everyone thought. Come on, what's the point of making a real long game if people will die of boredom within the first minute? 

The title of the topic is...well, the title of the story ;)
Before I begin, I'll just explain a few 'tools' that I will implement through the story:
#Comment/Note:These may appear once in a while through the story, whether it is to explain something, or just to add a note, readers may find them useful.
!!!WARNING: Perhaps there will be something some readers may dislike, or maybe the part following this warning will be intense. I'll try not to have many of these about. Potential spoilers.X(
^: For some reason, my computer is glitchy at the moment, so if this symbol appears randomly, just ignore it.
Right, so here is the story. Give me your opinion. And if you don't like it, please don't be so raw about it. I've got feelings too.


Introduction
Slayne. That's my name. No, I didn't make it up. And no, it's not a nickname. Don't hassle me about it, 'cause I get enough trouble from bullies at school. After they're finished with me, I'm little more than a bleeding ulcer lying on the ground.
Speaking of school, this story begins on Monday, the first school day of the week.
I pick up my bag. I want to get out of the house before my parents wake up. Or, should I say, parent. Apparently, when I was born, Social Services had split up my family; my parents went with my sister, and I was dumped at a foster home. No one has told me why.
But now, I don't care. I'm 16 now. When I turn 17, I can apply for a release form, and leave 'home' earlier. Law states that I can't leave home till I'm 18. Nice little Government we've got, huh?
So where was I? Ahh, I grabbed my bag and rushed for the door. I could hear banging coming from upstairs. !!! It was probably my foster dad screwing the shit out of my foster mum. Out on the street, I felt safe. I felt secure. There were no fosters. No bullies. Just my next door neighbor, May. And I hated her, too. She was the popular girl, the type who gets what she wants by screwing with the big boys, and jocks. Trouble was, the jocks were the bullies. And whenever she saw anyone look at her in anyway, they'd beat the shit out of them. I was a regular.
I walked down the street. Behind me, I could hear a car pull up, in front of Mays' house. The scent of male sweat, deodorant and again, male sweat lead me to the assumption that the jocks had turned up. They quickly sped around the corner, probably to get the whole gang. #Note: The gang consists of the cheer leading squad, and the jocks. I guess I should have began to worry by now, but I was still too tired from the beating I had received the day before. I knew that I had missed the bus, so I decided to take the motorway track, a dirt road that connects the two sides of the town in the middle. It was surrounded, however, by two km's of dense bush. Complicated, I know, but you get used to it. Cars didn't go this way very often, as they got dirty real quick. I should've looked at the ground better, at all the tread marks from the cars that had recently driven through. But, like I said, I was too tired to focus. So when I saw the collection of rich-kid cars by the water hole, only then did I concentrate. I concentrated on danger. The gang were skinny-dipping, all buck-bare. What I had concentrated on, with a small amount of confusion, was the petite tits of May pointing my way. And she was concentrated on me, without confusion, but shock and disgust. She shrieked, obviously trying to get the attention of the jocks.
"EEK!!! Stop looking you little pervert!"
I ran the fastest I had ever ran in my life. Looking at May was an annoyance, but looking AT her was taboo. And so I ran for my life. Now, I'm a fast runner. Years of bullying gives you that small grace. But I wasn't any match for a Ford XR8. The jocks followed up on me from behind, taunting me, jeering me. Testosterone was in the air. The hunters were at their peak. And this is where that day ended for me. One of them had a paint ball gun. He took aim, and fired. The ball smacked me in the back of the head, like a high-velocity tennis ball. The shock knocked me off path, over a small hill.
The jocks followed after a few minutes, laughing and enjoying themselves. Then they stopped. Their blood ran cold. You see, they thought they had just stumbled onto a murder scene, in which they were the murderers. I lay 20 feet below them, sprawled out across a small plantation of boulders and rocks. I faced the sky. They couldn't understand what had happened. Then it hit them. This hill had been a small cliff. I'd been knocked off of it. And now, I lay with a fractured skull, a broken back, snapped legs and a missing right arm. Unreal.
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know, check!"
"No way in hell am I following him down there!"
"Hang on, I've got an idea..."
One of the dumbasses shot a paint pellet into my chest. Paralyzed, I couldn't feel a thing. I just lay and watched, until my vision blurred. They ran quickly afterwards. I felt terrified, panicked when I heard the cars take off. I was alone. Then, I swear, that's when the hallucinating began. Not that "Your life flashes before your eyes" shit. My eyes lost function. I could only hear a voice.
Well, well, well. Isn't this a bitch?
I heard in my head.
So, they leave you out here to die alone, do they? Well, they did the same to me, kiddo.
"Who's there?"
I wasn't surprised, scared, or confused. Just...content. I had simply asked a simple question, hoping for a simple answer.
My name is non-existent.
"What a funny name!"
This is coming from a human boy named Slayne. Besides, I only said that I don't have a name.
"Ohh, my bad."
Listen kid. You're about to die, and I'm about to be left alone for another thousand years, so lets get to the point. If you join me, I'll heal you up, give you power, glory, and all that other shit. You just gotta make a pact with me. Now, I don't have time to-
"Ok."
There was a moment of silence. The endorphins in my brain were doing a wonderful job at this point.
What? Just like that? But you didn't even get to hea-
"Let's make a pact!"
I didn't know what the hell a pact was, but I was too high on death to care. I felt something. Something strong. Something very foreign. It was anger. Rage. Loathing. Not of personal objects, but a loathing of existence. It bordered on evil, but as it began to flow into my body, it felt justified. Like there was a plausible reason to it. Then I felt the pain. The intense, antagonizing and agonizing pain of my limbs forcing themselves back into their positions. I opened my eyes, and saw my arm that had been severed from my body. It was burning into ash, which blew away into the wind. My right arm regrew in a matter of seconds.
I stood. I moved a bit. I analyzed my situation. I had just been regenerated. But more than that, I had been changed. I walked to the water, and splashed my face. I flinched when the freezing water splashed my face, but was surprised to feel that it revitalized me completely, like I had just had a good nights' sleep.
Feel good?
Whatever had been talking to me moments ago had had a high pitched, annoying voice, like one of those birds that screech 'bakka' in anime. Now, it had a deep, deathly voice. It sounded evil.
"What is it that you did to me?"
I turned instinctively to the river. Walking back to it, I looked at my reflection.
And fell flat on my ass.
I just want to make sure that you understand what it was that you signed up for.
 
Thanks a lot man, but remember, this was only the Intro. Also, while I know how to write a plot and draw concept art, I have zero spriting, mapping and scripting skills. It would take, like a year for me to do something like this on my own. But thanks for the support!
 
For an introduction, it's kinda good and I want to see this unfold, it has an immature atmosphere around it(does this make sense), since the kids seem like 11-13 years old. Even if I don't like the ages, this seems to pull it off, and I really want to see more of this!
 
Okay! I'm actually kind of good at being constructive.
The first paragraph, with the 'slay' pun was kind of...it just kind of put me off wanting to read the rest; just because my mind made multiple connections with how the word 'slay' could be used there. 'Bleeding ulcer lying on the ground'; while its full of detail and adjectives my weak mind doesn't really want to picture a bleeding ulcer when your a human being.
Skip a few paragraphs down...
--"AAAAHHHH! Stop looking you little pervert!"
Comments on this particular phrase...it may have been worded better I'm thinking; as who says 'stop looking!' of all things. In my head, when a girl catches a peeping tom she can come up with better words than just 'stop looking!'. Thats something to keep in mind, giving individual characters their own voice to speak with - and one that fits their social, mental, and sometimes even physical status.
Just my 0.2$
 
I do not like the Slay pun either, but the "stop looking" piece of advice, I actually beg to differ. I mean, I can quite imagine the voice perfectly, and I think the lines used DO fit the girl's status in this storyline. Bitchy, "high ranked" socially(with peers ofc). She wouldn't dignify him with a profanity or even a euphemism. She's trying to call the guys to BEAT THE KID UP, the tone change after the scream is specifically addressing the "jocks", but more emphasis on PERVERT would improve this, yeah.
 
I would think though, that this bitchy popular girl could find better words faster than just 'Stop it!". That's the kind of response I would give if someone wouldn't stop poking me in the shoulder or something; not to some loser of all things seeing me naked. I do agree that more emphasis on what a perv she thinks this guy is would be appropriate, and increase a lot of her personal voice.
 
Thanks guys, those are good ideas. I think I'll change the introduction a bit, keep in mind that this came direct from a draft, so it is a bit rough. At the moment, I'm just editing the draft for the rest of the story, but I guess I'll just lay down how the plot is set out.

I've written the story as such:
The Intro (Prologue, however you like it). The intro above is followed by three parts.
Part 1: Drafted into R.E.A.par
Part 2: War
Part 3: What remains
Epilogue: Future
I've mostly written the story so that you can read the intro, and then read the whole story, skip to whatever parts you like, or just skip write to the end.
Part 1 is like, explaining what happened after he made the pact.
Part 2 is what it is: War.
Part 3 has a sudden change. It's darker and badder than any part in the story.
The epilogue does its' job, wraps everything up, tidies up loose strings and all that jazz. Expect updates soon!
EDIT: I'll add another chapter now.
And Surmuck, your $0.2 is worth every bit of $0.2. Constructive criticism helps others to achieve greatness, so thanks!
 

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