At Under: wow! Thank you very much for proofreading this! I never imagined that I'd be having that much errors :( Guess I should get back to the reading corner again...
Have a nice day

Hello there. Lookslike I'm back, with another writing I got together today. First off though, I sincerely thank all those who commented me on my first post. It was very encouraging and I actually read some more novels to see how some stuff work. While I'm still far from a good quality, I gave this another shot and wrote something else. This could be starting of a story, or some interaction novel. Either way, please bear with me and write down a few words into the magical reply box. :)
Oh, and here's this so called stuff I did:

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Beneath a mansion hid in a thick wood, a group of hooded figures gather together in a basement hall. Their white clothes painted with red serpents, their face concealed behind masks. Most are men, and if you look at them thoroughly, you see women here and there.

Nobody talks. All eyes are set on a big, wooden door which shows signs of decay. At far end of the hall, a fire crackles in a pail stony fireplace.

The door suddenly opens, revealing the tall man behind it. The man wears the same clothes but his face is not hooded. He walks in. The masked people stand up simultaneously and bow at him as he walks stiffly to a big chair having carved serpents all on it.

Some figures begin a slight whisper. Slowly, one by one they unmask their faces.

The one closest to door has scars and bruises over his face. His gaze is firm, and his battered nose seems to be missing some parts.

“Zaniyar. Been a long time since the last time we met.”

The new comer says to the man, which causes the sounds to die quickly.

“Yes, general. I was arrested by the security intelligence agents. It’s three days since I’m out. As soon as I got your message, I quickly came here.”

“Quite obvious. You seem tormented.”

Zaniyar nods in agreement: “Lucky me the bastards couldn’t dig any information out of me. They confiscated my belongings though.”

“Ah, how sad. Good to have you tonight. Please seat down.”

Zaniyar nods and takes a seat beside a young girl.

“How about you, Kiarash?”

A young guy stands up. He has black mustache and there are several wound traces under his pointed chin.

“I’m fine.” The figure sat back down, ignoring the general’s gaze.

“I thought you’ve forgiven me by now, son.”

“Well, you were wrong old pig.”

Several people around him inhale their breath loudly. One beckons him to apologize.

“Oh Kiarash, years of imprisonment haven’t yet taut you to hold other’s dignity?”

“I’m afraid no,” Says kiarash.

“I don’t respect people who murder my family.”

“I didn’t kill your father son; it was his fault. I warned him not to…“

“You easily could have prevented him!” shouts Kiarash, interrupting general’s speech.

“Many like my father go die because of your absurd ideas! Yet you seat here and try to bitch at others for your own blunders!”

“Listen, if you don’t talk to me calmly I’ll have to…”

“Have to do what! Kill me or hand me over to security agents? butcher me and throw me out there to be eaten by animals? Or perhaps burn me alive and pretend that I was killed in an accident!”

“Enough said boy, Get back in your seat.”

Zaniyar says suddenly, eyeing him with his frightening gaze.

“Let him express his way of thinking toward me. If that’s what he thinks I am,”

he casts a look at now enraged Kiarash. “No general. He is just got carried away. He’d be fine soon.” A middle aged woman stands up.

Just by a glimpse, anybody can tell that this woman is Kiarash’s mother or somewhat a close relative.

“Ah dear Sara. It’s good to have you back again.”

Kiarash returns back to his seat looking dejected.

“Same here general, I’m so glad I was invited to this gathering.”

“of course, tonight is a very special night. One that should not be forgotten. Tonight, Serpents order would be back on its feet again.”

Several combatants let out shouts and more begin clapping.

The general puts his hand up and all noise suddenly cease down.

“Thank you, thank you. I have to admit I’m impressed by your reactions. Now, let’s get down to our business.”

***To be continued***

Greetings. My name's Martin Gonzalez, from persia. I've been studying english for several years and thanks to my friend Maya who suggested me to join the choose your story comunity. I did some writing works in the past, but they were quite awful. I know I really suck at writing, so please feel free to yell at me if you want. :)
The story involves around a guy who's a warrior in the battle between Persia and Iraq. Didn't want to cause headaches for you guys with my bad writing skills, but I sincerely want to improve it.
Thanks in advance!

*Contains strong language

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The Great Carnage
Rummaging through the abandoned basement, I heled my flashlight up as the sun settled down. The truck had to pick me up by 8. Astonished by the engine uproar, I turned around to see the large truck at the distance. “Sup big boy?” The squad commander beckoned me as he jumped down the truck with his light machine gun mounted on shoulders.
Tall and thin, His name was SAM. He was the first guy I knew of who got over 20 Iraqi armed personnel with bare hands without taking any damage. The tough son of a bitch!
“Not Much”. I pocketed the flashlight and got into the truck. Two other soldiers had already got off the truck to bring in the packages I found in the basement.
“Any news?” I asked as SAM crumbled into the truck with a paper.
“What’s this?” He asked, ignoring my question.
“Don’t know, maybe some sort of paper some assholes left on the ground.” I answered.
He got a seat farthest away from me, Eyes fixed on it.
“Looks like some CB channel codes.” Switching the Walky-talky on, he started turning the hand knobs around.
“So any news?” I asked again, frowning.
“Umm, well We found some stuff.” The guy behind the driver seat answered, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
His name was HAMID. He always carried around a pack of cigarette. He lost his wife and two children at a bombing attempt in capital. He later joined  the army to work as a volunteer force. Fat and beard, with wounds and bruises all over his face.
SAM nodded him to stay quiet.
Soon the two other guys walked off the basement holding big packages.
I soon recognized one of them. JAMSHID was a short, thin guy. He joined the army after the Iraqi army slaughtered his family in KHORAMSHAHR. He had a little bit of south accent and he often used to drink alcohol. He was a colonel before the revolution but was later demoted to sergeant as he was found one night drunk at the camp, strolling.
The other two stuffed the packages in the back and got in.
The other guy shacked hands with me.
“my name’s AMIR,” he said smiling.
“I was in backup team, but general MAHMUDI told me to join the frontline. I have some experience working with heavy mounted guns.”
“Yeah. He almost shot one of his teammates when he was configuring the RPG.” JAMSHID said grinning.
“Told you that was an accident. I could done it better if that guy didn’t jump in the way.”
“Oh yeah? And I could have three more children if I could spend another two years with NASRIN.” HAMID roared, puffing another cloud of smoke from his nostrils.
He bended forward and turned the ignition on. The engine kicked off with a loud bang.
“Don’t look at the gifted horse in the mouth. MAHMUDI could give us no replacement for MAJID.” SAM said, still messing with the hand knobs.
“And did any one of you even went looking for him at all?” I said angrily. MAJID was my twin brother. We used to work together ever since we voluntarily joined the army. But he was killed in a mission. I was on guard duties that night.
“Ugh, just shut your mouth JABER.” SAM snarled.
“At least if one of you stayed off for a minute helping him he’d might be alive. But you three didn’t have bawls to do it. All of you were busy looking after your own asses.”
“I said, shut the fuck up. We’re not going through that shit again!”
“Hey what’s the story?” AMIR asked puzzled. Nobody answered.
“so is that it? You backstab your own men just to keep yourself alive for a few goddamn days longer?” I was now enraged.
SAM let alone the Walky-talky and turned to me.
“If you just, say another word, I’ll shoot your knees and will leave you alone to play fucks. You know better that the Iraqis will arrive soon.”
I zipped up. Messing with Iraqi forces without any backups was something I never wanted to taste.
“So what’s the story?” AMIR asked again, this time looking intimidated.
“He blames us for killing his twin brother.” JAMSHID said yawning.
“So what exactly you guys were doing?”
SAM nodded at JAMSHID and started talking.
“We were at a mission one night. I told him (pointing to me) to stand at his guard post because the camp had only 2 night watchers.”
“So what happened?” AMIR asked, interrupting his speech.
“We were betrothed. A guy called ALI came with us. He was an ingenious guy. He was only 17 and he could build and defuse explosives. He exploded our tank and drove the enemy troupes right on our ass. MAJID was shot in the leg twice. We couldn’t save him. Those bastards kept shooting simultaneously. We quickly ran out of ammo. We had no other choice.”
He finished talking and stared upwards. He seemed to be fighting with his conscience.
AMIR nodded.
“I’m so sorry for this tragedy JABER. I’m sure your brother is safe now.”
I did nothing. There was a long silence after that.

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