Bad Blood (language)

[ashensunflower]

I wrote this story about two years ago and haven't looked at it in a while. I know it has a lot of issues, but I really like the premise and would like to work on it more. Please leave any constructive criticism you have!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It started with five of us – Jack, Lawrence, Phil, Barney, and me. And then we were four. Barney went out into the woods early on the third morning while the rest of us where still breakfasting, said he was going to try and get some rabbits before the storm hit. We came across his body three hours later, facedown in the snow out in the back woods, his skull smashed by a bullet. Lawrence's first guess was that he killed himself, except that the gun was nowhere to be found.

Jack immediately began to panic, tearing the rifle off his shoulder, brandishing it in our faces, demanding to know which of us had done this. Phil, always the problem-solver, stepped forward and put a hand on Jack's shoulder, gently lowering the gun barrel with the other, explaining in his soothing drawl that there was no reason to believe any of us had done this. Perhaps it had been a drifter – killed him for his wallet, then took his gun. But within minutes, we had found the wallet on the body, still stuffed with credit cards and twenties. Jack said he was going to take the truck to the ranger station to call the police, but the clouds were gathering overhead, and I reminded him that there was a blizzard coming; he'd never make it before the roads got thick.

Lawrence was the doctor among us, and Jack suggested that he examine the body for evidence. Phil got irritable at that and warned him against disturbing a crime scene, but Lawrence said to hell with the crime scene, if we wait all the evidence could be lost in the snow by tomorrow anyway. He knelt down next to the body and announced that he'd only been dead some two hours; the body was still pretty
warm, even with the dropping temperatures.

Then he pulled his Swiss Army knife from his parka and flipped through it until he found the tweezers. As he dug at the wound, the first snow began drifting down around us. We waited in silence for ten, maybe fifteen minutes until Lawrence finally extracted the bullet. He held it up closely, squinting through his bifocals. Phil suggested that we move inside then; the snow was getting pretty serious. But Lawrence just sat there for a few minutes, finally turning to us, horror etched in every feature of his expression, his eyes passing slowly over each of our faces. All right, he said, none of us was going anywhere until each of us told him where we'd been about two hours ago.

***

The bullet had come from Jack's gun. It was a spitzer - distinct, pointed, not ideal for woods hunting at all, but he still insisted on using them because he liked to hunt at a long range. The minute Phil saw it, he started for Jack, snarling and cursing, his hands outstretched and clawed, but Lawrence grabbed him with both arms and held him back. He said no, it couldn't have been Jack because Jack had not been out of his sight the whole morning. The two of them had sat around the campfire for hours swapping crude jokes and stories over beers, neither had even so much as gotten up to take a p---, and their guns had lain the whole time with the rest of the batch against the back of the shed.

Phil backed off edgily, muscles tensed, eyes still narrowed with suspicion. Jack stepped forward, his gaze bouncing from Phil to me and back again, and said in a soft, carefully controlled voice that it had to be one of us. Which one of us b------- had stolen his gun and done this?

My heart began pounding as I looked from Lawrence to Jack. Well how could we be sure it weren't the both of them? I asked. And Phil, musing, suddenly recalled that it couldn't have been. He'd been in the garage the whole morning working on the snowmobile, he said. The garage had been open, they'd been far away but he had definitely heard them talking the whole time. They had never gotten up, not even for a second. He turned and looked at me.

"It must have been you."

And before I could so much as open my mouth, they had me. Phil had my upper body hugged against him, his strong arms pinning my wrists to my chest. Lawrence had my legs, and Jack was pointing a rifle in my face, muttering that if I even so much as goddamn moved he'd blow my head off with the same gun I'd used to kill Barney.

I protested the whole way as they carried me back toward the lodge house, but it was no use. They were making a mistake, I told them frantically, none of them had any reason to believe the others. And I had an alibi, too, I had been in the attic the whole time fixing up the fishing lines. But Phil said no, why repair the fishing lines in a blizzard? And if I had been in the attic, surely he would have seen me at some point from the garage, leaving the house to come out here. And I shouted, Aha! Of course he didn't see me because he wasn't there! It had to have been Phil.

As they carried me through the front door and up the stairs, all I could do was scream.

"It was Phil, you fools, you god damned stupid a------! It was him, he's tricked you, put me down, God damn it!"

With one hand still holding the rifle, Jack threw open the door of the downstairs closet, and they lowered me inside. The last thing I saw was Lawrence's face, terrified, bereaved, and apologetic all at once, inside a crack of light, narrowing rapidly until I was plunged into darkness.

***

I cannot say for sure how long I was locked in, but however long it was I yelled the whole time, bellowing at them through the door until I was hoarse.

"Please, please," I sobbed. "It was Phil! You're letting him go free! Let me out, LET ME OUT, you're not safe out there, please, I'm scared, please, please, please…ohgod, oh f--- hell…."

I went on for hours, repeating the words so many times that they melted in my throat and became a feverish nonsense. My face was hot and moist with tears, my knuckles bled from pounding the door and walls, and my fingernails broke. When I finally heard the thud of boots outside the door, I was sure that they had come to kill me.

But no, it was only Lawrence. He was alone and his eyes were kind. He had picked the lock with his Swiss Army knife. He said that Jack was upstairs with the key, and he mustn't find out that Lawrence had let me out. They had Phil tied up in the bedroom right now, and they had been wrong; they were sure now it had been him. Jack was still uneasy and wanted me restrained, but Lawrence knew better. He said he had never really believed that, out of all of us, I would be the one to do a thing like that. He had made a mistake.

And with that apology he pulled me into a hug, clapping me on the back. I squeezed his shoulder with one arm, laughing with relief. At the same time, quietly, carefully my other arm reached past his torso where I found the handle of the knife, still jammed in the lock. In a swift motion, I yanked it free, and a few more motions spelled the end of Lawrence. Stepping gingerly over his fallen body, I started up the stairs.

Barney was dead for f--- me over; Lawrence was dead for saving me. Phil and Jack were waiting for me upstairs, and the snow was really coming down outside. The forecast was predicting five feet by morning.

[ladylilith]

A psychological kind of thriller here, with a lot of potential for sure! I thought the initial plot you offer the reader is both exciting and engaging. I thought the ending was grand! I love it when the narrator goes so far as to trick the reader to. An 'unreliable narrator', used to great effect.

As for some more constructive feedback? Firstly, this definitely deserves further work on it. It's a great concept and you've got a strong back bone of a story. I think this is screaming out for more detail and a slower build-up. I felt like I was just thrown in there without having a clue who these characters were, and wondering if I should, as a reader, care. You know?

So yeah, take the time to set the scene. Maybe even start with finding the body, but allow the reader to see each character and depending on how heavily you want the ending to drop, you need to build sympathy for the central protagonist. You could drop some hints along the way that might suggest that the narrator might not be one hundred percent reliable too. Plant the seeds of doubt.

Setting and characterisation. This is what this story really needs to make it move from 'great' to 'freakin' awesome!'

I really do hope you decide to continue working on this. I enjoyed what you have here.

Lily^^

[capblackhawk]

i really loved this. it kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time. the only suggestions i would have is to give a little more information on each character especially on what bill did to screw the narrator over. maybe tell what happened to have them change their mind and suspect Phil.

[queenjellybean]

DANG!! I definitely wasn't expecting that ending. In general, I wasn't expecting the story to take such a path, yet it really captured my attention and kind of reminded me of Twelve Angry Men. This was really, really good.

[ladymaybebaby]

Wow, a great read! I love psycological thrillers like these... the kind that I can read and just get lost in the story where everything around me 'shuts down' and I become part of the setting, the images are not only vivid, they have come to life and all of my senses are involved in them. I can see the snow, feel the cold, see the crime scene... and as far as the ending goes, I am a sucker for a great close! You have a real gem of a story here! Congratulations on the spotlight pick of the week, it is much deserved!

-LMB
xoxo

[Sendarian]

very engaging and gripping and when u can add a twist like you did, you have a story worthy of being told and though I'm not proficient in apt critique, I wish you the best in this endeavor

[Josie]

Thank you for sharing your story with us and congratulations for gaining TPS Spotlight recognition. I can tell you really know your characters and maybe you could develop a reason earlier in the story for Barney's death. It was clear that no one in the group doubted that someone or possibly two of them were responsible for his death. What was it about Barney that irritated the others? I thought it was clever to make the N the guilty party.

[tangerinepie]

A very excellent thriller that is jam packed with confusion and chaos.The characters were outstanding, and the suspense amazing..Congrats on this wonderful spotlight addition..Tangie..

[everhopeful]

The confined murder mystery is always an interesting angle to take, and while I haven't read or seen an awful lot of them I was thrilled to see someone make the narrator the killer! It made for a great twist at the ending, and I was impressed by how you manipulated the story to make me feel sympathy for the narrator, thinking they were falsely accused, before the big finish.
Congratulations on the spotlight!

[Larsen M. Callirhoe]

Very suspenseful drama. I think you need more character development for each character so we get a feel for suspicion to fall on each individual instead of just having the narrator tied up. It is your story and being freed and whacking off your rescuer when you still have two more to deal with. If they find the body of your freer you will be found out. So it needs what I suggested and both remaining parties separate which your freer could indulge you with to fill the reader up with more suspense.

Nevertheless this was a cool read. The beginning was very well scripted in my opinion. No matter what you decide it was a well deserved spotlight or I would have missed this/ Never thought about how the title played into this until I was done with my response. I see where you were going with this.

victor

[trell11]

Psychological thriller. Very well done ashensunflower and planned out. I can see why its in the spotlight. You described things nicely as well as left some things up to the mind of the reader. Thanks for sharing my friend.