just a little diddy I came up with. It's nothing professional, obviously, but I'd just like some criticism, plox? The guys of the pit recommended I come here, btw.
NOTE: this is just all I have written thus far, but I do plan on writing more eventually.
Here goes:

Creepy things happen at night.

A siren blared twenty feet from where I was hiding. I wondered who the police were looking for: the man they thought they could find or the man they wished they could find. My guess was at neither; my guess was that they were looking for the man they had already found. That man had been hiding twenty feet from a blaring siren seven years previously. That man--if he could even be called so--had been strung out and practically living on the streets. I know because I had been there. The police found him and took him in. "You're underworked and the station is understaffed," the judge had said. Turns out he was a natural at it, as was I. Together we got off of drugs and worked our way up in the police station business.

And then, seven years later, I noticed a change.

I was told to work undercover as a prospective druggie and what do you know? He found my old habit, so to say. I swear I was off the stuff, and then... I was back on. And so here I am, now fifty feet from a blaring siren. They've lost my scent. I dared an inch moved, only to be pressed back to the ground by a blue flash. My heart pounded as a gunshot rang out, breaking the stillness of the black sky. Cue rainfall. Buckets. My shirt was doubly soaked, first by perspiration, next by a combination of hydrogen and oxygen. I was thankful for the translucency of the wetness at my sides. No blood, yet. 'Give it time,' my cynicism told me. My good sense told it to shut up, but it refused. 'You know that car's coming back around, right?' Another blue flash. My heart pounded louder than the gunshot that followed. 'You know they've got a sniper who specializes in good cop, bad criminal shootings, right? And I'm sure you just KNOW that he's on your trail, crosshair on your ear. Right?' I put the gun to my head and told it to shut the hell up. 'What are YOU gonna do, shoot me?' Flash, bang. I could just SEE the blood spatter against the stone. If only I had more guts and less brains, I wouldn't be in this situation at all. I don't know if it was the thunder or my heart, but something shut up the voice in my head. It was a blessing for now.

I sat for a few minutes and waited for the beating to slow to normal, then I got up and went down to the river. I was already soaked as it is, what more could this little body of water do? I waded the river, taking special care to not let the cartridges that were just waiting to be squeezed out take on water. I got across the once and future torrent just in time to stare down a pair of golden eyes. The golden moon was reflected in those golden eyes. I couldn't tell if something south of those eyes told me to put the gun away, or if something dark moved wordlessly just as the thunder followed me across the river. Regardless of the preceding lines, my mouth moved as my tongue uttered "Happy to see me, Matthew?"

The result was a mix of joy, surprise, and confusion, ultimately conjuring up some strain of stupification not yet perfected by anyone excepting Matthew.

"What say we start from the beginning, eh?"
If man is 5, if man is 5, if man is 5,
then the Devil is 6, then the Devil is 6, then the Devil is 6, the Devil is 6,
And if the Devil is 6,

then God is 7, then God is 7, then God is 7
This monkey's gone to heaven.
not bad
has some flaws but mainly things that are usually there before another set of eyes have proofread a story
i love writing and props to anyone who gives it a shot
I want Super Saiyan abilities