Marine

This is another story I'm working on. I have two versions of the first chapter and would like to know which you think is better.

Option 1:
Aaron Smith stood in a bleak hotel room on the third floor; gun in hand and staring at the man he'd just killed. Blood slowly pooled towards him. That man had been sent to kill him, and three more were on their way up the stairs to his room; two more waited outside the building by the van: all were armed, of course. Who knew how many could be hiding in the van. There were no pipes to climb out of the window and even if there were he'd be seen and shot down, escape wasn't an option so all that was left was fighting, only problem is he was all out of bullets.

Option 2:
Aaron Smith stood in the middle of his bleak, third story hotel room. The paint was faded and chipping away, wallpaper ripped and stained, mould growing by the windows, and a strong scent keeping alive the memories of all the degraded acts that had taken place previously.

At least he couldn't make it any worse, he thought to himself as he stared at the blood slowly pooling out of the man he'd just killed. The gun still smoking in his hand.

The man had been sent to kill him, and three more were on their way up the stairs to his room; two more waited outside the building by the van. All were armed, of course. Who knew how many could be hiding in the van? There were no pipes to climb out of the window and even if there were he'd be seen and shot down before he could do anything, escape wasn't an option so the only thing left was fighting. Only problem was he was all out of bullets.

I think the second one is best. It has a little bit more detail in the description, and some of the dramatic parts work better in separate sentences, like the last part for example.

I agree, the second sets the scene more.

Thanks. I was going for the James Sallis style. Short and to the point. He doesn't tell you anything you don't need to know and has a very in the moment prose.

2

The mall was full of life as over a thousand people wandered around its floors. Some were shopping, others eating, some just hanging around. Most likely all just wanted to escape the Texas summer heat. Despite being around so many people, Aaron had never felt so alone. He aimlessly strolled through the mall, watching the people around him. What were they doing? Do they even know? He certainly didn't.

It was this question that had left him awake at night. A blank noticeboard in his mind ready for an answer he didn't have. What was he doing with his life? Where was it going? He was only nineteen but he had already seen the difference between his school days and now. He was always a good student. A boy willing to at least try to tackle any problem put in front of him, and most of the time he succeeded. All experience at school had taught him that he was set to achieve something in life, yet here he was; walking through a mall for no reason, putting off any opportunity to do something.

The worst part was that it wasn't even an empty feeling. He knew what he wanted to do, but didn't, like a worst stuck on the tip of the tongue. Then he saw it.

Aaron picked up pace and walked directly to the sign up station. He was greeted by a large man with a buzz-cut and a big smile. The man grabbed Aaron's hand and shook it.

“You interested in joining?” the man asked.

Aaron shook his head.

“Great, why don't we sit down at my table and have a talk?” The man lead Aaron over to a small table that was positioned in front of a
wall, littered with papers and information pamphlets. The two sat on cheap plastic chairs on opposite sides of the table. “Since you're here I'm going to assume you're aware that the marines only accept the best of the best,” he continued.

“I am,” Aaron replied.

“Then why don't you tell me about yourself, why do you want to join?”

Aaron gave the same answer as all the other young people who had rushed to recruitment since the 9/11 attack a year earlier. An answer the soldier was hoping not to hear again. He scanned Aaron from head to toe. Five foot, ten inches approximately. Can't be more than one hundred and ten pounds with no real muscle definition.

“Sorry for wasting your time, kid,” he said in a disappointed tone.

“I need this!” Aaron pleaded. “The truth is, I don't want to do this for my country. I want to do it for myself. I want to feel like my life is worth something, like my actions matter. I want to know what it feels like to be a hero and not out of a selfless desire to do good but to prove to myself that I can do something worthwhile. I want to go to sleep at night knowing that the life I was given wasn't wasted.”
“Well that's what I can an answer. But I should tell you that our training is tough, you'd be required to put in a lot of hard work and exercise. You're going to hurt physically and even more important, mentally.”

“I can handle that, I'm willing to do anything. Anything. Just give me a chance.”

The soldier smiled and reached for some forms.