Beautiful
short story, fiction
Published on:
April 10, 6:59pmWord Count:
2392Work Description
A short story inspired by 'The Stand', and originally intended to lead into a full length tale.
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Beautiful.
That was what the man in the suit remembered later. Whilst it represented a great deal of death, not to mention millions of pounds down the drain (and trust the pen-pushers to worry about that at a time like this), it still remained so obscenely beautiful that it all but took his breath away.
When he sat and thought about it, he struggled to remember exactly how it was beautiful. Could it have been the leaping, twisting shards of glass and plastic, a shattered ballet of pirouetting destruction? Or the liquid death, which gleamed evilly in the harsh, artificial, light as it flowed gracefully across the floor?
No.
Rather, he suspected it was the sheer potency of the scene; the shattered vial with its swiftly escaping contents, and the beginning strains of the first siren. The small radio earpiece in his suit retained a reverent silence, and he could imagine the frozen, un-comprehending men at the monitors, pilgrims witnessing the holiest of miracles. All present must, simply must, realise that this was the start of something, something that would surely grow so great as to engulf the globe.
But someone, somewhere, in front of one of the myriad monitors, retained their senses. Ignored the grisly tale unfolding in front of them, and lunged for The Button. The Button which they prayed never to need, The Button which occupied a clear case on the wall, The Button which would sacrifice them regardless of their own desires and seal them in a lab-turned-tomb.
In case of viral outbreak: Push The Button.
The silken glide of the doors went unnoticed. The sharp clang of the locks did not. As it reached the ears of each supplicant in the Temple of Science they broke from their reverie. The man who pushed The Button began to shake as he realised what he had done. Others began to scream, to shout, to sob. Red emergency lighting flickered on, and the rooms took on a hellish glow deserving of what was later to become known as ‘The Devils Cook-Pot’.
Only the man in the suit remained calm. Not due to bravery, for he was scared. Not due to ignorance, for they didn’t employ fools here in Lab 12. Quite the opposite. And neither was it nobility. He had no wish to lay down his life for others. He remained calm simply because he didn’t know what else to do. If he panicked he was more likely to knock over another rack, another vial of something wicked. Number NI182 perhaps, lovingly referred to in-lab as ‘Monkey Flu’? Or maybe NI901, the good old ‘HIV Bomb’? No, they had enough problems with one outbreak. Which one was it again?
He knelt gingerly, avoiding the razor-sharp shards as though his life depended on it. Which it did. His gloved fingers brushed what had been the neck of the container, turning it over and revealing the label. NI013. ‘Black Cat’. He began to shake, laughter spilling from his mouth. Eventually the laughter brought forth silent tears, tears that blurred the plexiglass faceplate until the broken vial glittered like angry stars.
It seemed that God had a sense of humour.
A worried voice broke into his suit. A man in the control room. He wanted to know how the man in the suit was. Was his suit still airtight? Which vial had broken? The doors had sealed in there, hadn’t they? Hadn’t they? The man in the suit waved the worries away with a few soft words. Checked his suit quickly, methodically, but above all else thoroughly. Mercifully there was no tear, no wound in this second skin through which pestilence could creep. There was still hope.
Someone upstairs had noticed them. Had noticed the little pocket of men and women, trapped beneath a man-made cave-in of steel and concrete. And so, in words of electricity, they spoke to the trapped. And what they said was this:
“Good work. The lock down was in time. Nothing got out. Whoever pushed The Button deserves one hell of a raise.”
They all heard the reverential tone that even this man, safely sat in his plush office topside, had for The Button.
“More good news for you guys and gals down there. As far as we can tell the virus never left the lab. As far as we can tell, Control Room is clean.”
This didn’t go down as well as he had probably hoped. Their senses heightened by fear, the ‘guys
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Hey Dan,
WOW! What a great take on this story. I am glad you
paid homage to The Stand in your intro though because the concepts
are heavily the same as Kings. I think you would do
King proud though 
Couple little things - becareful of your spelling. "Realize" and "You" are spelled wrong several times throughout the first couple pages.
On the story side of things I thought this was awesome. I agree with the first critique though - I thought the transition into insanity was rushed and a bit choppy. Might want to flesh this area out a little- although I know you said that it was intended originally to be a longer story, maybe thats why?
I think you could really flesh this out into a novella or novel quite easily - the plot and conflict are clearly defined and nicely explained. The imagery is phenomenal - you really have a talent with the flourish of words - I was impressed from one writer to another. Imagery and descriptions are something I place a lot of value in as a writer and reader and yours were VERY very well done.
Other than the little technical piece on the spell check and fleshing out the transition from fear to calm to paranoia (which I was describe in detail how and why he got to where he is mentally) - I really really enjoyed this piece. Well done!
I am a very big fan of Stephen King and The Stand is one of my favorite stories by him so this story was an especially good read for someone like me.
The plot was easy to follow and very believable. I think that it was a good length but it also seemed more like the beginning of a longer story, which is what the description of the work explained. I would love to read this longer story to learn more about Black Cat and it's effects on people.
The pace seemed to progress quite well. It was very exciting in the beginning and slowed down a bit around 3 page 3 before quickly picking back up after it was revealed that the virus actually did escape from the lab.
There wasn't too much description of the settings in the story but I really liked that! I think that stories that have a lot of description or even moderate amounts are boring. In fact, I tend to skip those parts in some stories but this story allowed me to enjoy the story and the characters without having to worry about your descriptions. It allowed me use my imagination to create my own lab and my own characters and that is what made this story so exceptional.
One problem I had with the description was near the beginning when you described the man in the suit. I initially thought that he was in a business suit which threw me off later when I realized that I had imagined him wrong.
The point of view changed naturally from those in the control room to how the man in the suit felt and what he did. I thought it was a good transition. There was no confusion.
The characters seemed meaningful. I felt that everybody in the story that we met was important and had potential for growth. I would have liked to learn more about the man in the suit's mother and his past.
The dialogue upset me in the beginning, when the director took the mike and spoke to the man in the office. He used language that I just didn't think was befitting of a director of a very important laboratory and someone that was very educated. One example that comes to mind is when he said "we gonna die" and saying "yu" instead of "you." Besides the issue that I had there, the other dialogue seemed to flow naturally and was very realistic.
Grammar and spelling did not seem to an issue. One thing is that I am an American and you're English, obviously, so some of the words were spelled different. I think that you should disclose the lab being somewhere in Great Britain early on because initially I had no idea what you were talking about when you said it was going to cost so many pounds. It wasn't later until I realized what this meant.
This story was very good and an extremely interesting read. I hope that you continue on with it as I would love to read more. This is my first critique on Scribophile so I hope that I have helped you in some way.
Beautiful.
That was what the man in the suit remembered later.
I love the entire first paragraph, but I can't help but wonder if "the suit" is important at all to the story. The description unnerved me a bit, as though it meant something of great importance. If so, I'll recant later.
When he sat and thought about it, he struggled to remember exactly how it was beautiful. Could it have been the leaping, twisting shards of glass and plastic, a shattered ballet of pirouetting destruction? Or the liquid death, which gleamed evilly in the harsh, artificial, light as it flowed gracefully across the floor?
While this is incredible description, I have no clue what any of it means. I'm sure you'll tell this, again, later, but right now, you've lost me as a reader. What reason have you given the reader for caring? Why should we keep reading? This is the important stuff that, we, as writers have to pay attention to.
The Button which they prayed never to need, The Button which occupied a clear case on the wall, The Button which would sacrifice them regardless of their own desires and seal them in a lab-turned-tomb.
These should all be separated with periods instead of comas.
tears that blurred the plexiglass faceplate until the broken vial glittered like angry stars.
Now, this is beautiful. You have a fantistic skill at description.
The doors had sealed in there, hadn’t they?
In there, are two words that seem unnecessary and ackward to read.
They all heard the reverential tone
This is a strange description. What exactly is a reverential tone? I didn't get this one.
A small riot began, every one grabbing for the lone mike that was their voice topside. By dint of seniority, plus the strength honed in the inter-lab boxing tournament, the lab director triumphed. One hand clutching the mike, and the other holding back the surge of people that still contested for it, he began to speak.
This paragraph seems a bit jumbled and hard to follow. Simple tidying would help tremendously, keeping the actions clear and concise.
“As far as yu can tell?” he spat,
Going on with what I said above, who's he? The man in the suit? This wasn't exactly made clear.
“As far as yu can tell?” he spat, stress forsaking his cultured accent in favour of more venomous words, “As far as yu can tell? I seen the budget yu boys got up top. I seen the machines. And now yu tell me that yu can’t tell? Yu can’t tell if we gonna die soon? What can yu tell me? Eh?” This brought forth a clamour of shouts, screams of “Yeah!” and “You tell ‘im!”
Writing in accent can be tricky and is ackward here, especially since we dont' know what accent it is or where the story is taking place.
“We can get supplies down to you. There are bathroom facilities down there.
"Down there" is repetative and I feel these two sentences would help to condense into one.
Movement up in the control room caught his eye; the others were settling down against walls, consoles. Getting ready for 5 days of cabin fever.
This was a difficult to read in the sense that I was wondering who was taking importance in these sentences. Him, or the others. It bounces back and forth. Some clear steps, talking about them, then moving to him would help.
Every few hours his mother would appear, sometimes alone, sometimes with The Button.
I get that she was a hallucination, but I didn't get her with the button. What did one have to do with the other?
her and her friends, his father, son, wife and dog, dog that was only a month old, reduced to liquid corpses. He nearly cracked then, the first time he saw this, cracked along with his faceplate when he tried to end it all. But he woke up, a timeless instant later, with no cracks and the corpses gone.
Sometimes his mother spoke,
You started with his mother, then went into this list of others, and back to his mother. I wonder if the paragraph of others is necessary. I feel you would have a stronger image just sticking with the hallucination of his mother. Just my opinion, but sometimes simplification makes for stronger points.
In the first day he had
In the first day (coma) he had
Now the lab looked more like a padded cell
I'd delete the word "more" here, making the image more concrete.
Well that was fitting wasn't it?
Well (coma) that was fitting (coma) wasn't it?
Then The Button would tell The Voice, and The Voice would free him, free him to bright sunshine and fresh air and food and drink and precious freedom away from this cold cell full of crazy ghosts!
I get what you're doing here, but it was hard to read running on and on and on. Perhaps more punctuation would help and keep the intent.
Killer bug sweeps country!
I'd like to see this have it's own line because it's important.
This was an interesting piece. I now understand the first line and the suit, but don't think it was necessary in comparison with the distraction. Just my opinion, of course. You do well, but there are times the description towards the end seems to go on too long with no real impact on the story. I recommend going back and cutting or condensing some of it to make it an easier read.
Thanks for the read. I hope my comments helped.
Amber
Awesome!
The style is a mix of good rip roarin pulp and psycho-drama...which is a strange and unique flavor indeed!
but lets give a blow by blow shall we?
First bit is good and fast, we are exposed to the pragmatic neccessity of the protagonist and his scientific comrads rip roarin high flung emotions...which is a great take on the normally reserved and quiet lab atmosphere...we are given the dangers of the situation and what is going to happen about it.
This is all well and good, unfortunatly it dosent really leave any real surprises for the rest of the story does it? But a scribbler like yerself can work himself around that im sure.
What to add here then?
I say add some more of the co-workers/boss and there rambuncous behaviour...maybe just throw in some sub-naration about them and whatever they are up to while our protagonist is stuck in his suit? just a thought...
Okay moving on.
So next comes the bits of isolation and the begining creeps of madness...good but...well...meh,
add some spice to it I say! Maybe give up a bit of the hackneyed mother images for some fresher bits, maybe not...If you were to however I would suggest again some bits tying the outside world/coworkers to his hallucinations...not that you are not already doing it with the mother but...eh...
Eventually things should shift into a change...instead of the abrupt: and he stoped getting fed cause everyone died bit...lets shift into it...maybe he stops eating inentionally...gets paranoid...just some thoughts..my point is that it needs to bleed into the eventual fate of gobal apocolpse.
because armageddon is worth building up to.
So in a nutshell: More pulp, less psycho-drama, and mix the two as much as possible...
cheers!
-P.F. White