This is the beggining, . thats about it??

I decided late one night, high on coffe, to try and write somthing.
I thought it would be a change from video games.
Pease give feedback, open to any suggestions.
And just so you know, i'm an absolute novice, take that into account.

O.K here's, my first attempt at a story ever.
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Joseph loved the deer. He loved the way they moved, the way they were so very cautious, though not cautious enough, not today.
He raised the rifle to his face and squinted his eyes to see through the falling snow. Taking a deep breath he peered down the sights and set the crosshair on the creatures head. The deer looked around almost sensing something was watching.
Josephs fingers were aching from the cold. He thought about how he wished he had kept his gloves on. Too late now though, wouldn’t want to risk making any sudden movements. Taking one more deep long breath he tightened his grip on the trigger. The deer now lowering its head to a small patch of grass untouched by the winter snow.
A loud crack echoed through the forest as the beast stumbled back and fell to the ground.
Joseph closed his eyes waiting for the adrenalin to subside. He stood up from behind the jagged rock he was hiding behind, shaking off the snow from his fleece jacket. Moving towards the lifeless carcass he could see the hole in the deer’s head.
'Perfect shot' he whispered feeling quite proud.
The blood was forming patterns in the snow. Art being formed in front of him.
He stared for a moment taking in the beauty.

Joseph walked only a few meters out of the bush before reaching his truck on the dirt track. The “rock” as he called was his favorite hunting spot for this very reason. It made for a quick retrieval and a stealthy kill.
He grabbed the rope tied to the bull bars on his truck and dragged it back into the bush, tying the other end of the rope to the great horns of the deer, at the same time getting blood on his hands. He hated that. He didn’t mind the blood, but when it touched his skin he felt sick.
‘Should have warn the damn gloves’ he grumbled.
He rushed back to the truck and grabbed a bottle filled with a combination of alcohols, and poured it over his hands. This only added to the cold he felt on his hands. His fingers were starting to throb from the chill. He put his hands in his pockets as he walked back towards the deer.
‘Better get this one home’ he sighed to himself.

2
Joseph looked at the clock, 11:45pm. His eyes slowly drifted back down to the television.
He took a long drag on a joint the had prepared earlier that afternoon, knowing he would be too drunk to roll it that night, and he was right. With that thought he emptied the last of the warm gin into his throat.

Four hours later and here he is, drunk as usual , stoned again, brushing crumbs off his lap and taking a deep breath, thinking about leaving his lonely life and moving a bit closer to the city, and maybe finding someone to have a conversation with. Maybe someone who likes hunting too. You know there’s something wrong with your life when you long just for someone to talk to. He stumbled up to his feet knocking over a half empty can of beer. Drifting towards the bedroom, he slipped on a pile of photos he had left out, his body spun, and he fell to the floor, a loud ‘THUD’ was heard as Joseph head hit the ground.
‘Awww #, my #ing head.’
‘What did I do to deserve this!’
The pain left quickly and the drowsiness returned. Joseph stared out the window not wanting to get up. He stared out at the stars, trapped in the magnificence of the night sky as he often did, just looking at the constellations, letting him drift into a world far away from his own meaningless existence. His vision began to blur as the stars started to morph into illusions of the night.
Then he saw something, a flash, an amazingly bright flash.
His heart started beating hard.
‘What was that….’
He jumped to his feet and ran to the front door, he opened it and ran through looking into the night, trying to find out where the light came from. He looked at the sky suspiciously.
‘I saw it, I saw something.’
A light sparked in front of him and a flash filled his eyes once again, this time not dieing away. Joseph couldn’t see anymore, the light had blinded him. He waved his arms and tried to yell. Wind was blowing hard all around him, he could feel debris colliding with his body. Something pierced his neck. ‘err, what’s going on.’
Joseph couldn’t feel his body, then his legs started to give way. He tried to yell but nothing came out. He couldn’t move, his body was paralyzed, he could hear a strange noise, like a high pitched whistle that wouldn’t stop.
He fell to the ground, vomited, then passed out.

3
He opened his eyes, squinting at the sun, he sat up then vomited on the lawn.
The cold wind blew upon his face, slightly awakening from his dazed state. He realized he was laying outside.
‘Why am I…..?’
‘How did I ….?’
Joseph was confused, his clothes were soaked from the snow and his shoes were drenched in mud. He lifted his numb body out of the snow and stumbled towards the front door.
He walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. His vision blurred in and out of focus. Joseph’s eyes were as empty as the devils soul. He slowly reached for the shower handle and began to undress, still staring straight ahead in a kind of hypnotized form.
His hand felt the water, it was hot, steam filled the room as he stepped in.
The water felt like fire against his cold skin. Leaves and dirt drained out of his thick hair. The water going down the drain was black at first, then orange, that slowly changed to red.
‘Blood!’…....‘blood?’…... ‘BLOOD.’
He checked his arms and legs, no cuts.
His hands skimmed on his chest feeling for anything.
‘Pease don’t be…’
No, testicles are fine. His shoulders began to sting slightly, he felt something, something rough. Something on each shoulder.
The water died as he got out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around himself and ran to the bedroom, he turned to the mirror and looked over his shoulder at the reflection.
His eyes began to focus for the first time and his hands were trembling. Two small puncture holes scarred the back of Josephs shoulders. All of a sudden Joseph felt very ill.
He felt lost and alone, he had no idea what had happened last night. All attempts to bring a memory ended in total confusion, which made him feel even sicker.
He grabbed his phone and dialed the local doctors clinic.



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Well, thats all i'll put on here, i had written more, but i didn't like were it was heading, but also don't know what i want to do with it.

As a novice, you already excel greatly. This was very good, and you left us
wondering. Please continue the story. More is good!

Hey thankz for the reply seige.
Means alot.
I might post the rest of what i have if there are many more posts.
thankz.

Chapter one had such a visual effect that I could 'see' the snow, the deer, the hunter and the blood'. Well executed with choice of wording and sentence structure.

In particular:

'The blood was forming patterns in the snow. Art being formed in front of him'

I liked the repetition of the word form...if you had written 'Art was being formed', it would not have had the same impact on me.

the second paragraph again gave me a good picture of what you tried to portray. It seems as if you are an experienced hunter, writing with knowledge.

The third was more confusing. Perhaps that was intentional but you still manage to write a particularly sensitive line:

'You know there’s something wrong with your life when you long just for someone to talk to"

Maybe it's the poet hiding in my subconscious, but 'wrong' and 'long' resonated well with me.

I hope to see more of your writing, Apoplexy123...something more detailed in description and character building. You've whetted my appetite to know more of the hunter and his trials.

Hey, thanks heaps for the relpy.
Your feedbacks realy helpful and encouraging.

I did spend a while on a peice describing the character, but i couldn't think of a way to fit it in. But i will work on it.

Thankz again.