Something I wrote recently...

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Something I wrote recently...

Postby Omega_Lax » Wed May 30, 2007 3:12 am

Just something small I wrote the other day. Nothing too grand, just a short horror-type thing (calling it a 'story' would be a stretch). I wasn't sure what to think about it when it was done, so I sent it to a few friends for advice. The ones who read it said it was nice, however they aren't too much into fiction, especially horror. So, I decided to post it on here and see what people think.

I'm pretty much looking for an honest critique here, so don't worry about if your advice sounds rude or offensive, trust me, I can handle it :wink:


Edit: WARNING, THIS MAY NOT BE VIEWED AS PG BY EVERYONE.

There is no nudity, no actual violence (only implied), and while there is blood mentioned, it's not really gruesome... still, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

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“Paranoia, paranoia. Everybody’s coming for ya. If you run, you’ll
bump your head. When they reach you, you‘ll be dead.”

Stop it! His mind was a monotonous mesh of noise. In one ear, he
could hear himself inwardly screaming for the noise to stop, and in the
other… The carousel of music that ran through his head, and danced along
the chasms of his mind wouldn’t stop. A child’s voice it sounded like.
A girl’s voice.

The demented vision of a little girl flashed through his mind. Six
years old perhaps, seven at the most. Her hair dangled down her face,
long, matted dark brown hair. Her eyes shined with the innocence of
youth everlasting. The rhyme rang through his head again, and the image
for a split second, his mind and reality were one. For the lapse of one
tenth of a second, she sat right next to him on the couch. Her white
dress in tatters. Her skin pale. And worst of all, she was beheaded,
and in her bent left hand sat her missing appendage. In that short
length of time, she smiled, and looked up at him. And then she was gone.

He knew she had been there. He felt her. He saw her out of none but
the corner of his eye… but he knew she had looked at him. His blood
turned to ice, and his heart raced. He was unable to move or breathe, he
was frozen so still. And then, as if he had been struck by a bolt of
lightning, he jumped up and he tensed. The rhyme was now all he could
hear in his head. No more did he hear himself trying to fight it. It
was as if he had given into its sweetly omniscient presence.

But it wasn’t the same rhyme as before.

“Hello Billy, hello Bob. Your dear parents are dead and gone. I took
them away with my knife, no more bedtime tales tonight.” His heart
raced faster. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Tears formed at his
eyes, and for some unknown reason, he knew that what he was hearing was
true. Every word of it. “But don’t you cry, I’m hear now. Just sit
right here, and we’ll have some fun.” Bob felt every goose bump rise in
fear. The room suddenly began to get darker. A black mass had formed
at the corners of the walls, and he watched in horror as they expanded
and began to cover everything, blinding him from the world. He felt his
heart nearing explosion. Somewhere in the back of his mind he cried
out What did I do to deserve this!?! in a tone that seemed both
sadistic, and playful at the same time, the voice answered.

“What did you do? Why, nothing at all. Just wait right there and
we’ll have a ball.” somehow, without seeing it, he knew there was a sly
grin on the girl’s face. Somehow he knew that her teeth were no longer
white, but red with blood. Somehow, despite hearing nothing but the
voice in his head, and his heart beating beneath his chest, and seeing
nothing but blackness, he knew she was coming up the stairs right now.
In her right hand, and bloodied knife, and in her left, her severed
head. Again, he felt the urge to cry out, to leap at her, to throw
something at her… to do anything. Yet he remained still, frozen in his own
terror. Helpless to avoid his gruesome and tragic death.

The last thing he heard before sound was ripped from him like a
tornado rips a roof from a building, was the girl’s sweet and innocent voice.


“Paranoia, paranoia. Everybody’s coming for ya. If you stay, that‘s
up to you. But they won‘t come before I do.”




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Postby MQmoxie » Wed May 30, 2007 4:50 am

interesting. I actually expected the guy to be the one who killed everyone, as a medium for something more evil. You could probably add to it by describing some of the surroundings, make it even more dark and foreboding, depending on the setting. Though, if you describe it right, even shadows in a child's playroom can imbue dread.
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Postby Celey_the_Ego » Wed May 30, 2007 5:11 am

:)... Omega, this is one awesome short story... *Hey, this thing definitely isn't a narrative poem or novel... :P...* //^_^\\...


Only thing I'd like to say is that 'was beheaded' part.... It doesn't quite fit.... I think if you said she was 'headless'... It'd make a little more sense...
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Postby Omega_Lax » Wed May 30, 2007 8:32 pm

@ MQ: wow, the idea of making the kid the murder never actually occurred to me while writing this, though yeah, that would be an interesting idea :D



@ Celey: hmm... now that you mention it, using 'beheaded' doesn't seem to fit as well as I thought it had... actually, that entire paragraph doesn't sit too well with me anymore. Oh well, that's why god invented the eraser, so the saying goes :)
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Postby RubberDucky » Fri Jul 20, 2007 12:11 am

I really like it. (:
Mm. The only thing I'd really say is you have a lot of short sentences that could be combined with a semicolon, or something.
Although that might have been what you were going for?
Also starting a few sentences with the same word, although that could be on purpose, also.

"somehow, without seeing it, he knew there was a sly
grin on the girl’s face. Somehow he knew that her teeth were no longer
white, but red with blood. Somehow, despite hearing nothing but the
voice in his head, and his heart beating beneath his chest, and seeing
nothing but blackness, he knew she was coming up the stairs right now. "

It seems without the second and third somehow, it could make it more dramatic.
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