Okay, then. I will now treat this puerile, God-awful piece of horse manure in the same manner I give critiques at OB: with Honesty.
Initiate program Simon Cowell.
"Literary Club Group Story"
Or, Why I Auto-Lock 'Finish-The-Story' Threads. Or, You Don't Put Quotes In The Title Of A Damn Story When You Publish It Because That's Reserved For References.
Now. In defense of the "finish-the-story" concept, it's a fun game to play with friends because it just ends up being silly and ridiculous and everyone laughs. But I lock these type of threads at OB because on the internet that typically means someone will get the bright idea to be a foolish idiot and then another will follow and soon the thread is littered with juvenile blood and sex and all sorts of stupid crap. And while doing this kind of "collaborative" story, which amounts to merely passing the buck, is a good exercise in continuing some bit of material you're given, it should never, never be published.
Unless the authors know what the frack they're doing. And those people usually talk together about their story and write together, instead of handing off a bit of loose stuff to their partner and going "here, make up some crap". But even if they did, I would expect they'd at least try to play off of each other without being stupid.
Onward.
I was walking down an old country road with a couple of buddies on a crisp, cool fall afternoon. We were looking for a trail that led into the woods to an old abandoned house. We had been walking for over an hour and still could not find the trail. Maybe it has grown up I thought to myself. Or maybe we are not meant to find it.
First, learn to vary the length of your sentences. This is robotic-sounding. Good effort at description, but this is a really skeletal setting, and very vague besides. Also get with the program on your tenses. They're all over the place. And put a comma after your first thought there—which, incidentally, are a bit too overtly foreshadowy.
All of a sudden, I heard a rustling in the leaves. Soon, out jumped a rabbit.
Ugh. "Soon" implies a good time delay. You three just stand there like morons while this rabbit was rustling? If so, tell me about it. Don't just auto-skip time. Can't do that in real life, can't do that in prose unless you use the proper effects. Like, say, saying you all watched the bushes to see what made the noise, and presently out jumped a rabbit.
We were all very relieved to see the cute, fuzzy bunny, but just as we turned away, a huge, wolf-like creature sprang out and ripped the bunny to shreds.
Exhibit A on Finish The Story crap. Someone tries to be cute.
I'm guessing a Philosophy guy wrote this section, judging by the subtly-done commentary on the method for procuring a rabbit's foot. Could have been an animal activist, but I doubt they would have actually killed the rabbit to make the point. Unless they were with PETA.
As we all looked at each other, amazed, we took the foot. Within minutes, we found the trail that lead us to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Once we were in, we partied with the Oompa Loompas like there was no tomorrow.
Exhibit B.
Seriously? I don't even have to comment on this. It's stupid. Even the first line is trash. And the random ripoff of Roald Dalh is unappreciated. Show some creative spirit, you nit.
Ah, but there is tomorrow.
Congratulations, Einstein. You probably smoke cigars because they look cool.
I thought to myself, Was that a dream? No, here is the rabbit's foot, and boy does my head hurt! What was in that chocolate? Oh well, who cares? Back to the business at hand. I'm going to find that house even if my buddies don't go back with me. I will prove to myself and to all the people who doubt about the secret room and the power it contains.
Too much straight thought, not enough narration on the character. Get some action in there to help justify the logic patterns. Also the last sentence is crap again. My gosh.
But how was I going to find that miraculous room? The emerald songbird sang only one hint before bursting into flame:
Excuse me? The room is now miraculous? In fact, where the frack did this room even come from? All you three initially wanted was the house. And now there's a room filled with power, and there's a bunch of nay-sayers.
And where did this songbird come from. You say "the" so I can only assume I was supposed to be familiar with it. Also it's hard to sing a four-line hint when you're bursting into flame the sentence before, no matter if you narrated that the before happened after. Prioritise.
Or figure out a way not to cheese.
I'm not even touching the verse except to comment on the indented formatting, because the next section is STILL FRACKING CENTERED.
I kept on the path with my friends close behind. We were a small group....
I know. There's three of you.
We were a small group, but we knew the responsibility for finding the ancient power was a great one that we had been raised to pursue. I paused for a moment to let my friends walk ahead for a while.
I'm sure your parents told you often of your destiny with the old abandoned house at the end of a hidden trail off of an old country road. I can only expect the room will be old, too. And the power in it is ancient, so, you know....
When the last companion passed by, I started walking behind her, watching the small line of people zig-zag along the path.
You can't make a zig-zag-ing line with three people.
Startled, I froze in my tracks. There before me stood an old crone. She had hay-like hair and gnarled hands with long, curved fingernails. She frightened me. I couldn't help but notice the beautiful yet haunting necklace she wore. My eyes were fixed on the black stone in the center of the necklace. I couldn't move; I was in a trance. I tried to speak, but my mouth failed me.
Decent description. Are you the writer who started this monstrosity? If so, again you need to work on your sentences; you sound like a first-grade primer.
Well. Third-grade.
Also how the frack can a necklace look haunting? And stop repeating the word necklace, while I'm at it. Also, the last sentence is funky. As in, funk-laden. Like a gym shirt that's been lying on the bottom of the laundry pile too long.
Although you get half a point for your semicolon. Half because you wasted it on two simple sentences that could have been much better combined.
The crone told me that my curiosity was going to be the end of my friends and me.
Me and my friends, you nit. My friends and I when appropriate, but me and my friends in this case. Although you get a quarter of a point for not saying "us".
My heart told me that her power was in the black stone of her necklace.
Indeed. Convenient. Although I don't think anyone knows what power she has, or even knew that she had any in the first place.
I reached out and jerked the necklace from her neck, and she fell to the ground, dead.
Oh, you're the wolf-like guy! I remember you! You kill everyone for really stupid reasons!
The black stone had a map inscribed on it and led us to the house and room we were looking for.
Uhh. Who pressed the fast-forward button?
The splendor and magic there made our wildest dreams come true.
Did you get your pony? Or was your dream world peace?
Later, we were amazed to see a door to another room appear. A bodiless voice beckoned us to enter. We decided to take a chance, thus, another mysterious adventure began.
You mean this one's finally over? Stop taking acid and get an editor. Or maybe collaborate next time, instead of half-assing a piecemealed story that no one has fracking clue one how it's put together.
Madre del Dío.
