[747] Dead Man's Switch
I've just discovered this sub, so I'm brand new to it all, but I kinda feel like I've come home.
So this is the first Chapter One scene from a potential thriller, more a proof of concept at this point than a polished piece of writing. I'm thinking murder, sex, blackmail, political power dynamics. Do the characters drag you in? If not, what's missing?
I have no problem with close edits, broad critique, what have you. I'm here to learn, both how to write better and how to critique better.
It's fairly short, so I'll post directly.
“God is talking to you. But are you listening? We are all sinners by birth and by choice. And we must love and fear the Lord.”
Why did he agree to come here? Jasper shifted on the hard wooden pew. He was starting to sweat. Maybe the air conditioning was broken. His sister, sitting next to him, didn’t seem to notice since she was hanging onto every word.
“Our modern culture is at war with God. The Devil takes hold of people. Disordered desires. Unrepentant homosexuality. Brokenness. That’s what it is. A lake of fire and sulphur awaits them all.”
The pastor paused to raise his eyes to the heavens, listening with a smile as the calls of ‘Amen!’ rang out.
Jasper gritted his teeth. Right. Now he knew why it was so hot in there.
That was just him, burning in hell.
It had been Sarah’s idea, of course. Always trying to bring him back within the bosom of the family. Why they all couldn’t just stick with the good old Church of England and its vicars in paisley cardigans, Jasper had no idea. Evangelical fire and brimstone had never been his thing and they all knew it. Didn’t stop them.
“I’m so glad you could come today, Jasper. We all like it when you put in an effort.” Sarah smiled earnestly now as they walked outside after the service, gravel crunching beneath their feet. “Do you want to talk to the pastor? I know he’d like to talk to you. They’re so welcoming to new people here and I’d really like you to have his guidance.”
“Sarah, can I just be part of our family without judgement?” His voice had that familiar tightness. “That’s what I’d really like.”
“You can’t have one without the other. Who pays for art school? And that apartment of yours? You’re happy to take our money but not our counsel.” She sniffed. “Stop thinking you’re a rebel. You need to come and talk to him.”
Hell no. “Can’t, he’s busy,” Jasper said instead. The couple chatting to the pastor were well-dressed, animated with smiles and broad gestures.
“Oh, that’s his favourite parishioner and his wife. They’ll be finished soon, I’m sure. But fine.” Sarah snapped. “I’ll just tell our father you’re not interested.” She moved away to greet another group but not before sending a scowl his way.
He sighed. Looked like he wasn’t going to get a lift home after all. The nearest tube station was a good twenty minutes walk and those clouds were gathering already.
“How did you find the service?”
Jasper looked up in surprise. It wasn’t the pastor, it was the tall man the pastor had just finished talking to and Jasper decided he wasn’t in the mood for empty platitudes.
“I felt personally attacked,” he said. “From everything I heard, I’m not welcome here and your God hates me. I’m not interested in explaining. I won’t be back.” His smile was unrepentant and didn’t reach his eyes.
The man smiled slightly in return. “This is my constituency. It’s always good to put in an appearance, to get to know people.” His eyes roamed over Jasper, who studied him in turn now, curious.
Conservatively cut dark hair, a pale angular face with a typical boyish English flush even though he must have been mid thirties at least. Elegantly, dangerously attractive.
“I think I’ve seen you before, somewhere. Maybe at a club of some kind.” That voice was smooth and slightly sardonic as a curved smile slid across that handsome face. “Definitely a club of some kind. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better,” the man said, reaching into his pocket. “A lot better.”
And those cool, mocking grey eyes held Jasper’s just a little too long and a cool, slow hand eased its way across the skin of his palm. Jasper looked down at the card that had been placed there.
Lord Alton Osbaldeston
Cabinet Office
House of Commons
London SW1A 0AA
And a phone number scrawled on the reverse which did not match the official one on the front. Jasper flicked a glance across to Lord Alton, who had strolled back to stand with the woman who was clearly his wife, and those knowing eyes met and held his own again.
A spark of excitement flickered, deep in Jasper’s belly, as he tucked the card deliberately into the breast pocket of his jacket before dropping his gaze and turning away.
Posted Nov 25, 2021, 4:36 AM UTC