An Enemy Spy
2009-09-13, 10:13 PM
I had a thread like this before but it looks like it got purged.
This is an excerpt taken from a space fantasy I'm working on. Tell me what you think.
Fenris, the largest of Loki’s three moons, visible through a small beak in the stormclouds, illuminated the dark streets of Snaptun in a ghostly light. Rain poured from the clouds above.
Yvonne pulled her hood over her head, but the cheap fabric was already soaked and did little to protect her from the wet and cold. All around her was the filth and decay of Lower Snaptun. A starved looking cat ran in front of her and hissed loudly, venom dripping off it’s forked tongue. It disappeared into the confines of an overturned trashcan, but Yvonne could see its glowing cobalt eyes staring out at her. The streets were covered in soaking garbage, and the buildings were covered in graffiti, mostly in the languages of the indigenous people of the Jormungand coast. What she could make out tended to be statements directed against the High Council. Many were about her, and none of them pleasant. Yvonne sincerely hoped nobody recognized her.
Yvonne walked through the dark streets, wary of anyone who would notice her. In the alleyways she saw the occasional shadow of an onlooker staring at her from the darkness.
Yvonne glanced again at the small wrinkled paper she had found stuck onto the railing of her balcony.
1398 Victory Ave, Lower City
Come alone or not at all.
Yvonne looked at her surroundings. The sign said victory, but she couldn’t see anything that indicated a victory of any kind. Rising thousands of feet into the air were the pristine skyscrapers and walkways of beautiful Upper Snaptun, where the wealthy citizens lived in splendor.
Lower Snaptun was a different story altogether. This part of the city was a haven for fugitives and criminals, and a slum for the poor and the desperate. Why anyone would want to meet anyone here, particularly the empress, was beyond her.
But against her better judgement, Yvonne had donned the thin itchy clothing of a common woman and made the journey to the ground. She was beginning to wish she hadn’t.
Yvonne heard footsteps behind her. A pair of strong, sweaty arms grabbed her from behind. Before she could shriek, a hand was clapped hard over her mouth.
“Shut up you whore!” A coarse husky voice hissed at her. “I hate girls who scream.”
Yvonne was thrown to the wet ground. She tried to scramble to her feet and received a boot in the gut for her effort. She lay on her back and looked into the face of her assailant. There were three of them. One was a tall, scarred up guy whose face and arms were covered in tattoos. The one to her left was a mountain of a man, all bulging muscles and wearing a skintight shirt. The third man was smaller than the other two, but quite possibly the most frightening to Yvonne. He had a very lean figure and a ratlike face. His eye twitched nervously as he grinned down at her with his yellow teeth. In his hand was a long wicked looking knife. He looked at her with an expression befitting a wolf staring longingly at a trapped rabbit.
This is an excerpt taken from a space fantasy I'm working on. Tell me what you think.
Fenris, the largest of Loki’s three moons, visible through a small beak in the stormclouds, illuminated the dark streets of Snaptun in a ghostly light. Rain poured from the clouds above.
Yvonne pulled her hood over her head, but the cheap fabric was already soaked and did little to protect her from the wet and cold. All around her was the filth and decay of Lower Snaptun. A starved looking cat ran in front of her and hissed loudly, venom dripping off it’s forked tongue. It disappeared into the confines of an overturned trashcan, but Yvonne could see its glowing cobalt eyes staring out at her. The streets were covered in soaking garbage, and the buildings were covered in graffiti, mostly in the languages of the indigenous people of the Jormungand coast. What she could make out tended to be statements directed against the High Council. Many were about her, and none of them pleasant. Yvonne sincerely hoped nobody recognized her.
Yvonne walked through the dark streets, wary of anyone who would notice her. In the alleyways she saw the occasional shadow of an onlooker staring at her from the darkness.
Yvonne glanced again at the small wrinkled paper she had found stuck onto the railing of her balcony.
1398 Victory Ave, Lower City
Come alone or not at all.
Yvonne looked at her surroundings. The sign said victory, but she couldn’t see anything that indicated a victory of any kind. Rising thousands of feet into the air were the pristine skyscrapers and walkways of beautiful Upper Snaptun, where the wealthy citizens lived in splendor.
Lower Snaptun was a different story altogether. This part of the city was a haven for fugitives and criminals, and a slum for the poor and the desperate. Why anyone would want to meet anyone here, particularly the empress, was beyond her.
But against her better judgement, Yvonne had donned the thin itchy clothing of a common woman and made the journey to the ground. She was beginning to wish she hadn’t.
Yvonne heard footsteps behind her. A pair of strong, sweaty arms grabbed her from behind. Before she could shriek, a hand was clapped hard over her mouth.
“Shut up you whore!” A coarse husky voice hissed at her. “I hate girls who scream.”
Yvonne was thrown to the wet ground. She tried to scramble to her feet and received a boot in the gut for her effort. She lay on her back and looked into the face of her assailant. There were three of them. One was a tall, scarred up guy whose face and arms were covered in tattoos. The one to her left was a mountain of a man, all bulging muscles and wearing a skintight shirt. The third man was smaller than the other two, but quite possibly the most frightening to Yvonne. He had a very lean figure and a ratlike face. His eye twitched nervously as he grinned down at her with his yellow teeth. In his hand was a long wicked looking knife. He looked at her with an expression befitting a wolf staring longingly at a trapped rabbit.