Anyone want to beta for me?

[Scribbler]

It's only about 1400 words at this point.

 

[Wretch]

What genres would you say it is? I might be interested.

 

[Scribbler]

What genres would you say it is? I might be interested.

It's about a nightmare slayer, a person who is assigned to hunt down and kill the nightmares in their neighborhood. The dreamscape is like a physical representation of the dream world that everyone shares. A nightmare slayer can travel between the barriers that separate the dreams of each person, but most don't even notice the dreamscapes of others, let alone travel to another.

The tone is pretty casual.

I'm actually still deciding on a series to fully continue, so I might update this one sparsely as I try to write some other stuff.

 

[Scribbler]

I'm just going to put this here for anyone to give feedback.

Spoiler: What Happens in the Dreamscape?

I never could remember my dreams. Or if I did, I could only remember them moments after waking up, and soon after, they would be forgotten once again. And sometimes, I get that terrible feeling, as if I had forgotten something awfully important. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't remember. It was a horrible feeling of failure over and over again, every morning. But I also felt something else, a feeling that told me it's okay if I don't remember, because I'll be back. And as I fade into unconsciousness, I return again.

"Welcome back, Master Anders."

A, something I've never seen before, something imaginary and alien, like a kid's doodle brought to life was dressed in a butler's suit, greeting me with a bow. I looked around. It was an open field of lush green grass. Off in the distance were hills and valleys of impossible heights and steepness. In another direction was the outskirts of a forest of purple spotted palm trees with something that was more like fur than leaves. What the hell is this?

And just like that, it all came back. Images assaulted my mind, flashing by as quickly as a rolling film reel. The pain was so much that I fell to my knees. I pressed my hands to my temples as hard as I could. It was as if I my brains were spilling out.

When it was over, I couldn't believe it. I breathed and breathed, deep, long breaths, just to check if I could. I stood myself back up and brushed off the tufts of grass and bits of dirt that attached as I was writhing on the ground.

"Glad to be back, Scruples." I stretched my arms and legs. "I'm ready." Scruples snapped his fingers and beside him appeared a floating glass display, and in it was a suit of armor and a sword. "How's my schedule looking tonight, Scruples?"
"Positively packed, Sir." I had tried to get Scruples to stop calling me Master and Sir many times by now, but he would always say something like that is not proper conduct for a butler of my caliber. So eventually I gave up and let him be. Scruples told me the route as I got equipped.

I sighed and said, "More of them at the McKinley house? And a variant as well? I wish I could get to the bottom of things and stop them from appearing in the first place."
"No worries, Sir, I'm sure you'll be glad to slay them any day of the year." Well, that was true, it was kind of my job, but I can't help wanting to do more.

I placed my fingers in my mouth and whistled. Almost in the next instant a Griffin flew out and over from the fur trees and landed in front of me. I lifted my legs and mounted Chorus's back. I pointed my sword upwards and shouted, "Let's go!" and Chorus cawed and lifted off, beating its wings.

I flew over the hills until I was met with a force field that spanned all the way up and all the way to the sides, and I imagine if I were to dig down, all the way there too. On the other side of the field I could see another land much like my own, in the sense that it looked ridiculous and fictional, but in completely different ways. I passed through the field and flied onward, all the way until I found a woman being chased by a, hm, this one's tricky, a giant elephant with the legs of a spider and the neck of a giraffe. Well, not quite, it was too amorphous to be called that, but it was close enough. I flew down and followed beside her as she ran and said, "You know, Angela, you have an awful problem with monsters."
She didn't seem fazed, she ran with an exercised cool, and she said to me as if nothing was wrong, "I think the monsters are the ones that have a problem with me."
"But you have them a lot more than other people, and they're much bigger and different looking. I mean look at that thing!" She and I turned our heads to see it scuttle and roar at us. "You have to do something about it."
"Isn't that your job?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm not a permanent solution. Take care of that thing at your house."
"Why can't you do it?"
"Because I can't remember anything when I wake up! I would drive to your house and get rid of it myself if I could! But I can't, so you have to figure it out yourself."
She sighed, "And you assume I can remember?"
"Look, just get rid of whatever it is that you think is causing your nightmares. Just remember that feeling even if you can't remember my words."

I pulled back, leaped off of Chorus and onto the elephant, spider, giraffe thing. I struggled for and found my balance. The thing's trunk whipped at me. I slashed at it, severing about a couple feet of it from its tip. It grew back in seconds. I sighed. This isn't going to be easy.

* * *

As I was mounting back on Chorus, Angela called out to me, "Hey!" I stopped and waited until she had walked up to me.
"What?"
"Thanks."
"Just doing my job."

And then I was off to the next dream.

It happened weeks ago. There were spires of earth jutting out and into the clouds. I had wings like an angel across my back. The speed with which I flew, along with my loops and sudden turns, barely gliding past the surface of the spires, exhilarated me. I laughed madly at the ease at which I cheated death.

And then it happened. Dark clouds shrouded the sun. The spires shook and crumbled and fell completely. And my wings, no matter how hard I flapped, they could not take me any higher. They were shrinking, disappearing. I was falling. And as I grew closer to the ground, so did my fear.

I hit the ground. Or I should have. But I was sitting in a chair. I looked around. I was in a room with no light except for an inexplicable spotlight above my head.

A low, foreboding voice called out to me, "You haven been chosen, Anders Ardent." From the darkness he appeared, smoke enveloping and then eventually dissipating from around him. He was seven, no, eight feet tall. His skin was deathly pale. His cheeks were sunk in. His black hair was wild and unkempt, at shoulder length. And his eyes, there were no eyes where his sockets were, only two specks of blue flame. He wore a dark, dark blue cloak with stars floating around in it. And the clouds, they shifted, obfuscating and showing the stars as they moved, bending an unseen pale light and coloring the night into other unseen shades.

He continued, "You are to be the new Slayer of your land."
I had no idea what was going on. "What - who are you?"
"I have many names. Sandman, Morpheus, the first dreamer. Call me whatever you wish. The last slayer is no longer fit. And I have decided, you will take their place."
"What? Why me? And slay what exactly?"
"Your will is strong. Will and imagination are everything in the dreamscape. An unbreakable sword and armor will serve you well. But why you specifically? Because I knew you would accept." I can refuse!? "You can. But none ever have. I choose wisely. You will slay nightmares, the manifestations of doubt and evil that reside in every human being."

And that's how I became a Slayer. Scruples and Chorus were assigned to me, along with this suit of armor and longsword. People cannot create outside of their dreamscape, or bring anything along from their dreamscape into another. Hell, most people can't travel outside of their dreams, or even notice the fields that separate the dreams of others. So this is all I have.

I had passed through to the next dream a while ago. There were skyscrapers. The streets were bustling with people. The men wore suits and hats, and the women wore dresses. The cars were rounder, instead of sleek edges, there were proud pronounced humps. I'm no historian, but I was probably somewhere back 50 plus years ago.

I steered Chorus down into a secluded alley and landed. Chorus lied on his stomach, his front claw curled into a circle and morphed into a wheel. Almost in the next instant, Chorus transformed into a motorcycle, my suit of armor turned into a regular suit and hat, and my sword turned into a gun. I was close enough, so I left Chorus parked where he was.

 

[Rellawing]

I'm just going to put this here for anyone to give feedback.

Spoiler: What Happens in the Dreamscape?

I never could remember my dreams. Or if I did, I could only remember them moments after waking up, and soon after, they would be forgotten once again. And sometimes, I get that terrible feeling, as if I had forgotten something awfully important. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't remember. It was a horrible feeling of failure over and over again, every morning. But I also felt something else, a feeling that told me it's okay if I don't remember, because I'll be back. And as I fade into unconsciousness, I return again.

"Welcome back, Master Anders."

A, something I've never seen before, something imaginary and alien, like a kid's doodle brought to life was dressed in a butler's suit, greeting me with a bow. I looked around. It was an open field of lush green grass. Off in the distance were hills and valleys of impossible heights and steepness. In another direction was the outskirts of a forest of purple spotted palm trees with something that was more like fur than leaves. What the hell is this?

And just like that, it all came back. Images assaulted my mind, flashing by as quickly as a rolling film reel. The pain was so much that I fell to my knees. I pressed my hands to my temples as hard as I could. It was as if I my brains were spilling out.

When it was over, I couldn't believe it. I breathed and breathed, deep, long breaths, just to check if I could. I stood myself back up and brushed off the tufts of grass and bits of dirt that attached as I was writhing on the ground.

"Glad to be back, Scruples." I stretched my arms and legs. "I'm ready." Scruples snapped his fingers and beside him appeared a floating glass display, and in it was a suit of armor and a sword. "How's my schedule looking tonight, Scruples?"
"Positively packed, Sir." I had tried to get Scruples to stop calling me Master and Sir many times by now, but he would always say something like that is not proper conduct for a butler of my caliber. So eventually I gave up and let him be. Scruples told me the route as I got equipped.

I sighed and said, "More of them at the McKinley house? And a variant as well? I wish I could get to the bottom of things and stop them from appearing in the first place."
"No worries, Sir, I'm sure you'll be glad to slay them any day of the year." Well, that was true, it was kind of my job, but I can't help wanting to do more.

I placed my fingers in my mouth and whistled. Almost in the next instant a Griffin flew out and over from the fur trees and landed in front of me. I lifted my legs and mounted Chorus's back. I pointed my sword upwards and shouted, "Let's go!" and Chorus cawed and lifted off, beating its wings.

I flew over the hills until I was met with a force field that spanned all the way up and all the way to the sides, and I imagine if I were to dig down, all the way there too. On the other side of the field I could see another land much like my own, in the sense that it looked ridiculous and fictional, but in completely different ways. I passed through the field and flied onward, all the way until I found a woman being chased by a, hm, this one's tricky, a giant elephant with the legs of a spider and the neck of a giraffe. Well, not quite, it was too amorphous to be called that, but it was close enough. I flew down and followed beside her as she ran and said, "You know, Angela, you have an awful problem with monsters."
She didn't seem fazed, she ran with an exercised cool, and she said to me as if nothing was wrong, "I think the monsters are the ones that have a problem with me."
"But you have them a lot more than other people, and they're much bigger and different looking. I mean look at that thing!" She and I turned our heads to see it scuttle and roar at us. "You have to do something about it."
"Isn't that your job?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm not a permanent solution. Take care of that thing at your house."
"Why can't you do it?"
"Because I can't remember anything when I wake up! I would drive to your house and get rid of it myself if I could! But I can't, so you have to figure it out yourself."
She sighed, "And you assume I can remember?"
"Look, just get rid of whatever it is that you think is causing your nightmares. Just remember that feeling even if you can't remember my words."

I pulled back, leaped off of Chorus and onto the elephant, spider, giraffe thing. I struggled for and found my balance. The thing's trunk whipped at me. I slashed at it, severing about a couple feet of it from its tip. It grew back in seconds. I sighed. This isn't going to be easy.

* * *

As I was mounting back on Chorus, Angela called out to me, "Hey!" I stopped and waited until she had walked up to me.
"What?"
"Thanks."
"Just doing my job."

And then I was off to the next dream.

It happened weeks ago. There were spires of earth jutting out and into the clouds. I had wings like an angel across my back. The speed with which I flew, along with my loops and sudden turns, barely gliding past the surface of the spires, exhilarated me. I laughed madly at the ease at which I cheated death.

And then it happened. Dark clouds shrouded the sun. The spires shook and crumbled and fell completely. And my wings, no matter how hard I flapped, they could not take me any higher. They were shrinking, disappearing. I was falling. And as I grew closer to the ground, so did my fear.

I hit the ground. Or I should have. But I was sitting in a chair. I looked around. I was in a room with no light except for an inexplicable spotlight above my head.

A low, foreboding voice called out to me, "You haven been chosen, Anders Ardent." From the darkness he appeared, smoke enveloping and then eventually dissipating from around him. He was seven, no, eight feet tall. His skin was deathly pale. His cheeks were sunk in. His black hair was wild and unkempt, at shoulder length. And his eyes, there were no eyes where his sockets were, only two specks of blue flame. He wore a dark, dark blue cloak with stars floating around in it. And the clouds, they shifted, obfuscating and showing the stars as they moved, bending an unseen pale light and coloring the night into other unseen shades.

He continued, "You are to be the new Slayer of your land."
I had no idea what was going on. "What - who are you?"
"I have many names. Sandman, Morpheus, the first dreamer. Call me whatever you wish. The last slayer is no longer fit. And I have decided, you will take their place."
"What? Why me? And slay what exactly?"
"Your will is strong. Will and imagination are everything in the dreamscape. An unbreakable sword and armor will serve you well. But why you specifically? Because I knew you would accept." I can refuse!? "You can. But none ever have. I choose wisely. You will slay nightmares, the manifestations of doubt and evil that reside in every human being."

And that's how I became a Slayer. Scruples and Chorus were assigned to me, along with this suit of armor and longsword. People cannot create outside of their dreamscape, or bring anything along from their dreamscape into another. Hell, most people can't travel outside of their dreams, or even notice the fields that separate the dreams of others. So this is all I have.

I had passed through to the next dream a while ago. There were skyscrapers. The streets were bustling with people. The men wore suits and hats, and the women wore dresses. The cars were rounder, instead of sleek edges, there were proud pronounced humps. I'm no historian, but I was probably somewhere back 50 plus years ago.

I steered Chorus down into a secluded alley and landed. Chorus lied on his stomach, his front claw curled into a circle and morphed into a wheel. Almost in the next instant, Chorus transformed into a motorcycle, my suit of armor turned into a regular suit and hat, and my sword turned into a gun. I was close enough, so I left Chorus parked where he was.

Interesting concept. You do have an issue, though. You overuse 'him' sentences. It'd be best to either combine those or else find more creative ways to start those sentences. The MC was primed by Scruples to become a 'Sandman'. This makes me wonder if he was manipulated, but still interesting. Funny that I did a concept like this in my current novel project. :3 It's not quite identical, but I always liked the concept of a human mind being capable of manipulating the world.

 

[Scribbler]

Interesting concept. You do have an issue, though. You overuse 'him' sentences. It'd be best to either combine those or else find more creative ways to start those sentences. The MC was primed by Scruples to become a 'Sandman'. This makes me wonder if he was manipulated, but still interesting. Funny that I did a concept like this in my current novel project. :3 It's not quite identical, but I always liked the concept of a human mind being capable of manipulating the world.

Um, what are him sentences exactly? Would you give me an example? Do you mean I begin too many sentences with I? Sandman kind of is a cooler name than nightmare slayer. It's definitely less edgy and more mystical.

 

[Rellawing]

His skin was deathly pale. His cheeks were sunk in. His black hair was wild and unkempt, at shoulder length.

Chorus lied on his stomach, his front claw curled into a circle

Actually I meant his and not him. :3

 

[Rellawing]

His skin was deathly pale and sunken. His hair was wild, unkempt, and shoulder-length.

Chorus lay on his stomach, curling his front claw into a circle

 

[Scribbler]

His skin was deathly pale and sunken. His hair was wild, unkempt, and shoulder-length.

Chorus lay on his stomach, curling his front claw into a circle

I cannot say I agree with you fully or disagree with you fully. I could probably remove half of them and replace them with a comma, though. But it's also kind of a stylistic decision.

 

[gahara31]

I'm just going to put this here for anyone to give feedback.

Spoiler: What Happens in the Dreamscape?

I never could remember my dreams. Or if I did, I could only remember them moments after waking up, and soon after, they would be forgotten once again. And sometimes, I get that terrible feeling, as if I had forgotten something awfully important. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't remember. It was a horrible feeling of failure over and over again, every morning. But I also felt something else, a feeling that told me it's okay if I don't remember, because I'll be back. And as I fade into unconsciousness, I return again.

"Welcome back, Master Anders."

A, something I've never seen before, something imaginary and alien, like a kid's doodle brought to life was dressed in a butler's suit, greeting me with a bow. I looked around. It was an open field of lush green grass. Off in the distance were hills and valleys of impossible heights and steepness. In another direction was the outskirts of a forest of purple spotted palm trees with something that was more like fur than leaves. What the hell is this?

And just like that, it all came back. Images assaulted my mind, flashing by as quickly as a rolling film reel. The pain was so much that I fell to my knees. I pressed my hands to my temples as hard as I could. It was as if I my brains were spilling out.

When it was over, I couldn't believe it. I breathed and breathed, deep, long breaths, just to check if I could. I stood myself back up and brushed off the tufts of grass and bits of dirt that attached as I was writhing on the ground.

"Glad to be back, Scruples." I stretched my arms and legs. "I'm ready." Scruples snapped his fingers and beside him appeared a floating glass display, and in it was a suit of armor and a sword. "How's my schedule looking tonight, Scruples?"
"Positively packed, Sir." I had tried to get Scruples to stop calling me Master and Sir many times by now, but he would always say something like that is not proper conduct for a butler of my caliber. So eventually I gave up and let him be. Scruples told me the route as I got equipped.

I sighed and said, "More of them at the McKinley house? And a variant as well? I wish I could get to the bottom of things and stop them from appearing in the first place."
"No worries, Sir, I'm sure you'll be glad to slay them any day of the year." Well, that was true, it was kind of my job, but I can't help wanting to do more.

I placed my fingers in my mouth and whistled. Almost in the next instant a Griffin flew out and over from the fur trees and landed in front of me. I lifted my legs and mounted Chorus's back. I pointed my sword upwards and shouted, "Let's go!" and Chorus cawed and lifted off, beating its wings.

I flew over the hills until I was met with a force field that spanned all the way up and all the way to the sides, and I imagine if I were to dig down, all the way there too. On the other side of the field I could see another land much like my own, in the sense that it looked ridiculous and fictional, but in completely different ways. I passed through the field and flied onward, all the way until I found a woman being chased by a, hm, this one's tricky, a giant elephant with the legs of a spider and the neck of a giraffe. Well, not quite, it was too amorphous to be called that, but it was close enough. I flew down and followed beside her as she ran and said, "You know, Angela, you have an awful problem with monsters."
She didn't seem fazed, she ran with an exercised cool, and she said to me as if nothing was wrong, "I think the monsters are the ones that have a problem with me."
"But you have them a lot more than other people, and they're much bigger and different looking. I mean look at that thing!" She and I turned our heads to see it scuttle and roar at us. "You have to do something about it."
"Isn't that your job?"
"Well, yeah, but I'm not a permanent solution. Take care of that thing at your house."
"Why can't you do it?"
"Because I can't remember anything when I wake up! I would drive to your house and get rid of it myself if I could! But I can't, so you have to figure it out yourself."
She sighed, "And you assume I can remember?"
"Look, just get rid of whatever it is that you think is causing your nightmares. Just remember that feeling even if you can't remember my words."

I pulled back, leaped off of Chorus and onto the elephant, spider, giraffe thing. I struggled for and found my balance. The thing's trunk whipped at me. I slashed at it, severing about a couple feet of it from its tip. It grew back in seconds. I sighed. This isn't going to be easy.

* * *

As I was mounting back on Chorus, Angela called out to me, "Hey!" I stopped and waited until she had walked up to me.
"What?"
"Thanks."
"Just doing my job."

And then I was off to the next dream.

It happened weeks ago. There were spires of earth jutting out and into the clouds. I had wings like an angel across my back. The speed with which I flew, along with my loops and sudden turns, barely gliding past the surface of the spires, exhilarated me. I laughed madly at the ease at which I cheated death.

And then it happened. Dark clouds shrouded the sun. The spires shook and crumbled and fell completely. And my wings, no matter how hard I flapped, they could not take me any higher. They were shrinking, disappearing. I was falling. And as I grew closer to the ground, so did my fear.

I hit the ground. Or I should have. But I was sitting in a chair. I looked around. I was in a room with no light except for an inexplicable spotlight above my head.

A low, foreboding voice called out to me, "You haven been chosen, Anders Ardent." From the darkness he appeared, smoke enveloping and then eventually dissipating from around him. He was seven, no, eight feet tall. His skin was deathly pale. His cheeks were sunk in. His black hair was wild and unkempt, at shoulder length. And his eyes, there were no eyes where his sockets were, only two specks of blue flame. He wore a dark, dark blue cloak with stars floating around in it. And the clouds, they shifted, obfuscating and showing the stars as they moved, bending an unseen pale light and coloring the night into other unseen shades.

He continued, "You are to be the new Slayer of your land."
I had no idea what was going on. "What - who are you?"
"I have many names. Sandman, Morpheus, the first dreamer. Call me whatever you wish. The last slayer is no longer fit. And I have decided, you will take their place."
"What? Why me? And slay what exactly?"
"Your will is strong. Will and imagination are everything in the dreamscape. An unbreakable sword and armor will serve you well. But why you specifically? Because I knew you would accept." I can refuse!? "You can. But none ever have. I choose wisely. You will slay nightmares, the manifestations of doubt and evil that reside in every human being."

And that's how I became a Slayer. Scruples and Chorus were assigned to me, along with this suit of armor and longsword. People cannot create outside of their dreamscape, or bring anything along from their dreamscape into another. Hell, most people can't travel outside of their dreams, or even notice the fields that separate the dreams of others. So this is all I have.

I had passed through to the next dream a while ago. There were skyscrapers. The streets were bustling with people. The men wore suits and hats, and the women wore dresses. The cars were rounder, instead of sleek edges, there were proud pronounced humps. I'm no historian, but I was probably somewhere back 50 plus years ago.

I steered Chorus down into a secluded alley and landed. Chorus lied on his stomach, his front claw curled into a circle and morphed into a wheel. Almost in the next instant, Chorus transformed into a motorcycle, my suit of armor turned into a regular suit and hat, and my sword turned into a gun. I was close enough, so I left Chorus parked where he was.

I am having a hard time following the narrative and the way you place dialogue between the narrative made it hard for me to imagine the scene.
another is I think you overuse the word 'I' too much, it felt rather awkward as I read. an example of sentence below,

When it was over, I couldn't believe it. I breathed and breathed, deep, long breaths, just to check if I could. I stood myself back up and brushed off the tufts of grass and bits of dirt that attached as I was writhing on the ground.

maybe something like below could improve it?

I couldn't believe it when it was over.
taking a long, deep breath tried to compose myself. I stood up, brushed off the tufts of grass and bits of dirt attached.

 

[Scribbler]

I am having a hard time following the narrative and the way you place dialogue between the narrative made it hard for me to imagine the scene.
another is I think you overuse the word 'I' too much, it felt rather awkward as I read. an example of sentence below,

maybe something like below could improve it?

I respectfully disagree with me overusing the word I. But I will heavily think about the way I place dialogue and narrative.