This message is long overdue, but I'm sure most of you realized that this site is inactive. Sorry to do this, but I just don't see a point anymore. It wasn't even my site to start with and I just don't have the effort to do anything else with it. I ran out of ideas.
So, now that that's outta the way... There've been some good people on here and I don't want to lose contact with you. I'll still come on here from time to time, but if you ever stumble across this site again and want to contact me, you can reach me at my AIM, which is Zydodo, or MSN, which is i_see_stupid_people_1@hotmail
.com. Heh, don't ask.
Anyway, thanks to those who took the time to read this.
Regards,
Zylem
- Saturday, December 6th, 08
Well, the November activity check is now over, and we're now down to 14 members. I dunno what happened to some of the staff, but we should be fine with the 4 of us--Ama, Ria, Carn and myself. As for those who are missing.. well, hopefully nothing has happened to them. On a happier note, it is, of course, December. All the holidays are starting up, so I can understand why the activity may be going down. But I must say, it's on the rise. I'm thinking of a monthly activity check.. or at least one every two months. The next one will probably be after the holidays. Anyway... I also added the 'Open Threads' thing. I'm hoping it will be helpful for newer members. Here's the link: Open Threads. And Ria also gave the idea of having a board for the borders of the pack lands. It'll probably make things easier for newer members, so I'll have to get on that.
Well, that was about all I had to say. Thanks guys for stickin' with me and this site. Happy Holidays.
Regards,
Zylem.
-Tuesday, November 18th, 08
Oh, and almost forgot... HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY CLASH.
Geez, it hardly seems like a year, but believe it or not, it is.
Regards,
Zylem
- Saturday, November 15th, 08
Another monthly update. The recent recession in activity is quite concerning, so.. we're basically starting over.. again.. I'm getting pretty tired of this, but.. *shrug* I dunno what to do with the inactive accounts... Guess we'll just have to wait till the end of the month to delete them in another activity check.. I'll be moving all the threads into the archives... I have deleted the affiliates who have deleted our banner and am advertising again. I dunno what happened to our former staff, but.. I'd like to welcome Ria (AKA Raksha) to the staff team. She's the only one that's still here and is actually helping, so thank you Ria. And any guests reading this.. we welcome you as well. Anyway.. That is pretty much all I have to say. Also, November is a month of remembrance and thanksgiving, so.. just keep that in mind.
Regards,
- Thursday, October 2nd, 08
Hi. Zylem here with your monthly update. *Shifts eyes* Sorry, just had to say that. Anyway... All inactive accounts have been deleted. All inactive threads have been moved. And I will soon create a Pre-Made character board... I've noticed the recent decline in activity... Especially for those who are supposed to be staff. I understand you have lives and all, but I would rather you at least tell me that you're going to be gone... and maybe that the staff position isn't right for you. New members - please join another thread or organize it so you and another member will have a thread together. I've seen it too many times when a promising member joins, then leaves because no one has replied to their thread. So, just to avoid that, please join another thread. If you're wondering what thread to join, ask in the cbox and someone will surely help you. OH, and I've also edited our playlist. It's workin now. And the affiliates have been moved to the main page. So, yeah, I think that's about all I have to say... And be active, goddamn it! Don't make it look like I'm the only one who doesn't have a life...
Kiddin. Anyway... Regards,
- Monday, September 8th, 08
Well, the inactive member countdown is on, unfortunately, but I have given those people many chances to return... I'm sorry, but having inactive members may as well not be members at all. If you do actually return to the site and see that your account has been deleted, feel free to rejoin.. and maybe, y'know, be active. That would be great, so.. Anyway, by the end of this month (because we should all be adjusted to school by then), I will be deleting all accounts that have not signed in within the past month. Yes.. being an admin involves those depressing jobs, sorry to say.
-Tuesday, August 19th 08
Sorry with the frequent updates, but I remembered a few more things to say. There is now a 5-person staff team, in case you didn't notice. There will be no more, unfortunately (even that is a bit too much right now). But those are the people I choose and you better be happy about it. Now, the other thing I wanted to add was.. well, this plot is progressing rather slowly. I mean, I have it all planned out (most of it, anyway), but with the amount of members it isn't goin as fast as it could... Anyway, what I'm tryin to say is, we need mini-plots. You know, just to keep it interestin. So if you have any ideas, post in the rants part of the board. Now, don't be afraid. I'll accept almost anything... Almost...
- Monday, August 18th
2008:
As you've probably heard, the site is no longer adminless. I would just like to thank Frost and Carn, y'know, trying to keep the site alive. Sorry, but you don't really get an award for that. I know. It's unfortunate. We now have a 4-person staff team, including Eyolf/Terry, the not-so-new member. Any new members/guests... don't be afraid to post in the cbox, even though you have many reasons to be *cough*. Anyway... I've also sent out an activity check... the first one, I might add. I've been trying to improve a few things, so now would be a good time to make suggestions. Staff members, you don't need to ask to modify anything on the site, including making your own
announcements/
news/etc. But if you're unsure, ask me. Oh, and members, use the OOC board to pass time until... y'know, we get some members back..
- Saturday, August 9th
2008:
Sorry i didnt post this earlier but Zylem has left on vaction and left me(Frost) and Bliss in charge of the site until he returns. if you are new or just need so help then message me or Bliss and we will be glad to help you or listen to any comments you may have
Thankiez =]
-Frost
- Saturday, June 28th
2008:
In case you haven't noticed, I have set up both the YOTW and the site playlist... Though no one seems to be overly interested, which is fine. I've also done an OCC RPing board. This, on the other hand, looks to have obtained some interest, which is good. It's summer and all, and when I'm not doin' whatever, I'll have alot of time to improve the site (new skin, in case you haven't noticed that either), and am needing suggestions... really. I don't care what they are, and if you have one, even if it puts down what I've done with the site, TELL ME. Thank you.
- Tuesday, June 3rd
2008:
Well... We'll have the YOTW and playlist-thing as soon as I figure out how to get two tables next to each other. Heh.
- Sunday, May 31st
2008:
Okay, well, I've come up with a brilliant idea. We're going to have a YouTube Of The Week (YOTW). Brilliant, isn't it? Yes, I told you it was. And while I'm at it, I'll also add a music playlist-thing. You can find a thread about it in the OOC section as soon as I get to making one.
- Sunday, May 11th:
Yes... I have decided to start over. There isn't much to say, other than, if you wish to help, you can message me. I will create a thread about it as soon as possible.
Winter has finally come to its end. All snow has dispersed and foliage is in full bloom. The previous yellow grasses are returning to their natural greens colours, while the trees are in the process of recuperation, producing the forests we once knew. With new growth comes new life. Prey, although it may not be much, is rejuvenating in numbers to nourish the wolf population. Expect mostly sunny days, but rain storms are on the rise.
Activity:
Currently, Archon is gathering pack members while trying to keep his old. This isn't working too well for him, however, seeing as his pack has now dwindled to only two members. But as loners continue to wander through, things seem to be looking up for the humble pack. Their high tensions stands in their way, though. If they wish to accept new members, the threesome is going to have to sort out their own problems before they can become a well coordinated and self-sufficient pack.
POP STATS:
Current Alpha: Archon Member Count: 2 Current Loners: 4 Pending: 5 TOTAL: 12 wolves
Joined: Dec 2007 Posts: 49 Location: Somewhere...over the rainbow.. Karma: 3
My attempts at horror... « Thread Started on Aug 24, 2008, 4:49am »
(This is a story, not a roleplay. I'd love for creative criticism, though, for all of the stories.)
Knife In Your Neck
“...the high today will be...”
“...the score still stands at...”
“...we’re here today with...”
“Can you just pick a channel?” a girlish voice complained.
“...and there has been yet another mysterious death in the Lyder family. There are signs of murder, but the killer has not yet been located. The police are still searching, and apparently, this is not the first killing performed by these people. Yes, everyone, there are two of them, so keep your doors and windows shut and locked. We have a pair of assassins on the loose. The only hint of any kind is that in the victim’s neck was a small knife, with an exquisitely crafted golden hilt. Also in the news...”
“Hey, Alex, we were on the news again,” another girl called.
The girl called Alex appeared from the adjoining room and stood in the doorway, staring at the TV. “They still don’t know who did it?” she asked.
“Obviously.” Her friend shrugged and smiled. “We did do a pretty good job of covering up. Like always.”
Alex’s lips curved upwards in a sadistic smile. “We got another call from Henry, Jess.”
Jess frowned. “Already? We just finished this job up. Don’t we ever get a break?”
“Apparently not. And we’d better get going. This family just got back; I saw their car pull into the lot just a second ago.”
Jess jumped to her feet and grabbed her jacket and backpack. Alex shrugged on her coat. “It’s cold out,” she informed Jess.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get going.”
The two friends ran outside, and were greeted with a cold blast of wind. Jess swore under her breath as she quickly pulled on her thin black coat. “Told you it was cold,” Alex muttered, her face buried in the collar of her dark blue jacket.
They trudged through the streets of New York, not talking, trying to conserve energy.
~~~
They had been walking for a good half-hour when Alex finally said, “Let’s just stop here for now.” She gestured towards a narrow alley. “The buildings should stop the wind from getting to us.”
“F-f-f-f-fine,” Jess said, her teeth chattering.
Alex sighed. “Here,” she said grudgingly, taking off her coat and throwing it at Jess’ head.
“Th-th-th-thank you,” Jess said, pulling Alex’s coat over her own thin one.
“You’re so weak,” Alex said as they walked a little ways down the alley.
“There’s nothing wrong with being cold.”
Alex mumbled under her breath so Jess wouldn’t hear her, “It’s survival of the fittest for people like us.”
~~~
Jess woke up, feeling warm. But it’s freezing outside, she thought, trying to sit up. Something was on top of her, and something was slowly wrapping around her neck. Wh—? “What the—!?” she managed to scream before she gagged.
Alex was hovering over her; one knee in Jess’ stomach, her other leg crushing Jess’ left hand on the ground. “It’s survival of the fittest, buddy,” Alex said, her hands tight around Jess’ neck.
“But why?” Jess gurgled. She could feel her life slipping away.
“Hey,” Alex said, grinning. “We never knew who would kill first. We said we worked together, but I knew it wasn’t true. You know what people say: ‘Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.’ Looks like whoever made that saying up was totally right.” Jess blinked and fought for air; her right hand clawed at Alex’s face. “An assassin can’t have friends. The world we live in is a dangerous one. It was either going to be you or me. Looks like it was me.”
Alex’s last words were spoken to a dead body. She leaned back on her heels and surveyed the damage. There wasn’t much. There was a ring of bruises around Jess’s neck. “Now, this won’t do at all,” Alex said to herself.
Rolling up her sleeve, Alex pulled out a small knife and sliced open Jess’ throat. The bruises would eventually fade, but the cut would remain. Droplets of blood traced trails down Jess’ slender neck as Alex stood up, taking both hers and Jess’ belongings. “No point in wasting food and heat,” she muttered, pulling the two jackets on. “Oh, almost forgot.”
She knelt down once more, taking the knife in hand. Then, she thrust it into Jess’ neck, until she could see the point coming out the other side. Blood now spurted out, sprinkling the ground and hitting the bricks of the buildings on either side of them.
Alex then dragged Jess’ body down farther, closer to the end of the alley. Quickly, she ran back towards the entrance, and paused only to grab hers and Jess’ stuff.
As she stepped out of the alley and onto the sidewalks of New York, she quickly lost herself in the crowd. But she failed to notice one thing. As soon as she had stepped out of the alley, someone had slipped in. The stranger—who was now looking at Jess’ dead body—muttered, “Looks like it’s my turn.”
~~~
Alex entered a tall, green building, wiping stray wisps of dark brown hair out of her face. She walked through the building, ignoring the greetings from the people in there. Taking the stairs two at a time, she reached the third floor in a matter of minutes and barged into an office. The sign on the door read:
Henry Lyder President
“Henry!” Alex yelled, slamming the door against the wall.
A portly man with no hair and twinkling green eyes looked up. “Hello, Alexis.” Henry smiled. “You look well.”
“Whatever. What’s this about a new job? I just finished mine—kill Jess. Don’t I ever get time off? Ever?”
Henry smiled, even though the anger emanating from Alexis was almost palpable. “My dear Alexis.” He paused to open a drawer and take out a sheet of paper. “You are the best assassin I have. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this job. You have to do it. And it has to be done as soon as possible.”
“Well, you could have informed me sooner,” Alexis hissed.
Henry ignored her. “His name is Devon Lyder. Here’s all the information you will need.” He opened another drawer and took out a small box. “Here are the knives you asked for,” he said, handing Alexis three small and finely crafted knives with golden hilts.
“Thanks,” Alexis said grudgingly. She looked at the paper, and her eyes widened. “You want me to kill your grandson?”
“Yes.”
Alexis looked as if she was about to say something else, but then just shrugged. “Fine,” she said, pocketing the sheet. “Pay up.”
Henry handed over a thick wad of cash. “Enjoy,” he said, waving as Alexis left the room.
Walking out once again into the cold, Alex began walking down the street, her hands stuffed into her pockets. Not paying attention to where she was going, she bumped into a young man, also with his face buried in his collar and his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“No, it was my fault,” the man said, smiling.
Emerald green eyes met Alex’s sharp amber ones. She stifled a gasp. This was the man in the picture on the information sheet that Henry had given her. The man was still talking. “I’m Devon Lyder. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled. “I would shake your hand, but it’s a little cold, so my hands are staying in my pockets.”
Alex shrugged and pushed past him. He followed her. “So, what’s your name?”
Alex paused. “I’m...” she paused. “Alexis.” Under her breath, she muttered, “The girl who’s going to kill you.”
Devon’s smile faded a little, and Alexis thought she saw caution in his face. “Well,” she said, “it was nice talking to you. I have to go.”
She walked off quickly, noting that he didn’t follow her this time.
~~~
Later that night, midnight to be precise, Alexis was sneaking into the rather large and luxurious apartment of Devon Lyder. Scaling the side of buildings in the dark was a lot harder than it looked.
But finally, Alexis was in. Staying low to the floor, and testing each floorboard before she stepped, she slowly made her way to Devon’s bedroom.
Something creaked loudly behind her, and she bit back the swear word she was about to spit out as someone grabbed her arm. A hand was wrapped around her throat, and she could feel the point of a knife biting into her neck. She smirked. “You’re not gonna get me that easily!” she shouted, bending forward and throwing the person into the television.
The person she had thrown struggled to his feet; he had dropped his knife, Alexis noticed. She looked back up at the man who was slowly approaching her. She glared. “You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”
Devon—for that was who the man was—nodded. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “Just forget whatever my grandfather told you. I’ll help you.”
“Screw that!” Alexis half-yelled, pulling one of her knives out and throwing it at him.
If Devon hadn’t dodged, the knife would have gone right through his neck. Instead, it went through his shoulder. And as small as those knives were, they packed quite a punch. Blood gushed out of his shoulder; he didn’t move, though he was wincing from the pain. “You...you kill for money?” he asked, clutching his shoulder; the pain apparently was unbearable.
Alexis slowly walked over to him and drew her second knife. She grabbed his collar and pulled him towards her. “Yes, I do. You’d be surprised at how rich I am. Yet there is the question of why I sleep on the streets like a homeless person.”
Devon looked at her in confusion, the blood running down the length of his arm; it had already dyed half of his white t-shirt red. “The reason is...I want to. It’s an excellent disguise. You should try it some time. You’d be surprised at how many people underestimate me. It’s almost equal to the number of people that I’ve killed.” Alexis shoved him down to the ground. Leaning over so their faces were only inches apart, she whispered, “Those that underestimate me die. There are, however, the lucky few that get away. And there are my clients. I don’t just kill for money. I kill because I want to.”
The look on Devon’s face was one of disgust and fear. “How can you take a life so easily?” he asked, spitting at her.
Wiping the spit off her face, she replied, “When I watched some gang beat and kill my older sister, I sold my soul. I live to kill. I kill to live. I know I’m going to Hell when I die. I can’t wait. And I’ll see you there. I know exactly who you are.”
“You...” Devon stuttered. Alexis noticed that there was a glint in his eye. “You...talk too much!” he yelled, throwing her to the ground.
Leaping to her feet, she charged. Jumping at the last second, she grabbed the edge of the table that was conveniently placed nearby and swung around, kicking Devon in the head. He flew through the glass door separating the living room and the kitchen. It smashed into hundreds of little pieces, and cuts appeared all over his arms and legs. He staggered to his feet and stumbled towards Alexis.
She readied herself, landed a hard punch to his face, and then kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying once again. Devon didn’t get up this time. “Damn,” Alexis muttered. “I made a mess.”
She surveyed the room; it was a mess. The television was smashed, there was glass all over the floor, and blood splattered the rug and walls. Her gaze fell upon Devon’s form; he was stirring. She didn’t wait for him to get up.
Walking over, she kicked him in the head. She was pretty sure that she had just broken his nose; blood was gushing all over the once spotless kitchen floor. A bloody hand wrapped around her ankle, and pulled her down. Her hand was wrapped around her knife still; she stabbed Devon in the back as she landed, cracking her head against the floor.
Someone will have heard us by now, she thought wildly. Alexis looked at Devon. He was staring at her intently. “You can change,” he managed to say. “I did.”
“Shut up!” she screamed, smashing her knife into his head.
She stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?” she whispered, now staring at the blood running down her hands. “What is this feeling?”
She lurched to her feet and swayed for a moment, feeling light-headed and nauseous. There was a pounding at the door. “What’s going on? What happened? Is everyone okay?”
For the first time, Alexis panicked and didn’t think. Running to the door, she yanked it open before remembering that there were people standing outside. She could just imagine what she looked like—covered in blood, and eyes wide and scared. She pushed past them; they just stared in shock. Finally, one of them yelled, “Stop her!”
Alexis was already down the stairs and outside when someone caught up to her. Without even looking at who it was, she whirled around and shoved a knife into their neck. The person gurgled, and fat fingers clutched her arm. The clouds shifted and moonlight shone down on the two people. Alexis stared in horror. “Henry?” she whispered in a strangled voice. “Oh...my...god...”
She turned and ran. Where she was running to, she didn’t know. She just kept running.
When she finally stopped, Devon’s words floated through her head: “You can change.”
She pulled her last and final golden-hilted knife from her sleeve. Raising it above her, she tilted her head back so she was staring at the sky. “I’ll see you in hell, Devon, Henry,” she whispered.
~~~
The next morning, a very confused newsperson was relating the morning news to New York. “It appears that last night, a fight took place in the apartment of Devon Lyder, resulting in three deaths. Yes, three deaths. It seems the killer, going by the name of Alexis, also killed the grandfather of Devon Lyder, Henry Lyder. Later, Alexis was found with a knife through her neck; a small knife with an exquisitely crafted golden hilt...And the strange thing about this was the identity of Miss Alexis. She in fact is the—” A bright flash of lightning appeared and a loud thunder clap sounded. All the power went out.
Alexis would cross the river Styx into Hell with all her family.
Half an Hour
“Mr. Yaskovitch’s suicide this morning is just one of nearly 100 that have been sweeping the metropolitan area over the last week.” The lady on the Channel Seven News said through the heavy glass window that made up the facade of “Stevie’s TVs.” Harold Kenneth Miller (of Miller, Mendel, and Sons Consulting), unfortunately, did not hear this. In fact, none of the 75 or so businessmen walking that particular block on the way back from lunch break heard it. This is mostly due to the thickness of Stevie’s glass, but various cellular conversations also contributed to blocking out channel 7 on that particular Wednesday. Harold, himself, had just hung up his cell phone and was trying to put it back in the “convenient” belt-hung holster that never quite fit his cell phone when he went down. Another suit, presumably occupied in a similar manner, had run right into Mr. Miller. After a brief moment spent gathering the few spilt papers and returning them to their correct briefcases, the two stood up and looked at each other.
“Harold Kenneth Miller?” The man, who Harold did not recognize, asked. “Yes.” “Of Miller, Mendel, and Sons Consulting?” “That’s the one.” “If you don’t kill yourself in half an hour, the world will end.”
The first thing Harold did was instinctively look at his watch to see how long a half hour would be. Once he determined from the shiny gold face that it was 11:57, the words the man had said finally managed to sink in. The man disappeared into the crowd quite some time before this realization, though. Harold was completely dumfounded for several moments afterwards as his feet took him automatically to the door of his office building. His internal reverie was interrupted by the friendly voice of Security Johnny asking if he was okay. Harold was brought back to his senses, and replied, “Just fine Johnny, thanks.” Harold, much more lucid as he stepped into the elevator and punched in his floor, decided that his threatener was merely insane. He rationalized the man’s knowledge of his name and firm by telling himself he could have easily dropped one of his finely-embossed business cards in the confusion. He took out his card case and counted, “Aha” he exclaimed to no one in particular, as he was alone in the elevator, “There are only 13 in here!” Sure, he didn’t quite know how many there had been in there before lunch, but it still made him feel better.
The strange events of the day being fully rationalized, he sat down and actually managed to get cracking on the Bobson report like he told his secretary he was going to do all morning. In fact Harold was just about as productive as he had ever been, for about 15 minutes. At that point there was a file he needed to finish the report, and he could not find it anywhere on his desk. Realizing that he had brought it with him to look over at lunch (something he had not managed to do), Harold opened his briefcase to be met with probably the third most shocking thing he would see for the rest of his life.
There, where normally lay files and documents mixed with the odd package of Nutter Butters or a Snickers bar, was a picture of Harold himself, along with a long list of facts about him. For a brief moment, Harold couldn’t decide what was more frightening, this, or the sudden realization that he must have lost his own briefcase. Fortunately the next few pages answered his brief conundrum. This is definitely more frightening, his subconscious was kind enough to let him know as he looked over similar fact sheets for his wife, his children, his father, his mother, and even his mother-in-law. Granted, that last one actually lightened the mood, but nonetheless he was scared out of his mind.
The briefcase, though, did not stop there. After the information on every person he had ever cared about (and one he didn’t), were a series of schematics that, while he didn’t bother to read in their entirety, Harold could tell from the diagrams (and the large easy-to-read titles that told him so) that they were very accurate and well-thought-out plans to bring about the end of the earth. After those papers were removed, Harold saw the second most shocking thing he would see for the rest of his life: a watch. While the watch in itself was not shocking, the significantly small and constantly decreasing numbers, along with his watch’s conformation that it was 12:27, was shocking.
Harold burst of the room like a rhinoceros that smells fire. If this unexpected action upset Ms. Munn, his secretary, his next move would drive it out of her mind. He crashed through the 26th-story window with even more gusto than he had the door. The most shocking thing Harold Kenneth Miller ever saw was the ground. He had never imagined something so incredibly massive could ever move so quickly.
Okay, I must admit: this next one isn't horror so much as just a batshit crazy guy's last minutes of life. This story has language that is not reccomended for younger, impressionable readers.
In Sheets
The rain fell in sheets that day. Grey light filtered through the tears of God, dimly illuminating the crooked, forgotten headstones. Tall, dark figures gathered around an open grave. Grieving men and women wept beneath umbrellas as a chilling wind swept across the soggy earth. One man stood in front of the tightly huddled group, reciting verses from a holy book, barely protected from the rain.
The casket of the departed was shielded by a small tarp as it was slowly lowered into the earth's gaping wound. The tearful mourning watched in silent sadness. The rain worsened as the figures draped in black abandoned the grave.
I approached the stone and placed my hand upon it, laying down a single rose before it. My cold, unsheltered body was drenched, but I neither noticed nor cared. Tears filled my eyes as I gazed upon name of the dead. I stroked the deeply engraved letters with a trembling hand, as if I were caressing the cheek of my beloved. The image of her face flickered through my mind, soft and sweet, a bright smile upon her face. The image clouded as I lowered myself down onto my knees, remembering. The clouds of my memory lifted, revealing another image.
My fair lady lay sprawled on the rough ground, a red trickle running-- No! I cannot bear to think about it. But she returned to me, pleading desperately. No longer was her face occupied by a grin. No, all that remained was fear and sorrow. She reached out to me with her hand-- No! Why must this wretched memory haunt me? Why may I not free myself of these chains, these shackles that bind me to my idol?
I retracted my hand and wiped away my tears, brushing the dripping hair out of my face as I turned away from the hellish rock, the foul reminder of my fair maiden. I hated those scenes. Nothing more than splinters in my mind. Nothing more than a knife twisting in my head. Why should I care? I have no fond memories of her. Only pain. What did she ever do for me? Nothing! She never loved me, never! She took advantage of my love, that bitch! That motherfucking whore! She can burn... Burn in hell, for all I care! I'm glad I did it... I'm proud of it!
But oh, I miss you so...
I drew my pistol hidden within my coat, already loaded with a single bullet, a single savior for my wretched soul. Tears streamed down my face, leaving a stain. I slowly lifted the barrel to my temple, feeling the bittersweet sensation of cold metal against my skin.
My love, you won't leave me again, will you? You won't abandon me... I'm coming to see you again, Honey, and this time... This time... There's not a damn thing you can do about it.
I squeezed my finger, passing judgment onto myself. My body returned to the earth, spilling the horrible scarlet upon the grave.
I'm coming for you... Won't you take me?
Okay, that's it for now, kiddies. Please tell me how I can do better, and whether you liked it or not. But please, if you do say that you liked it, say why. And the same thing for if you disliked them.
Hello there. I'm the near intolerable, irritading, sarcastic smartass. Pleasure to meet you.
Joined: Nov 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 114 Location: No where, planning my grave. Karma: 7
Re: My attempts at horror... « Reply #1 on Sept 1, 2008, 11:21pm »
Ok, I'm actually going to reply. Hooray.
I can't say that I disliked any of them. I can only say that they all have potential, and you could probably improve on all of them. Now, before you say anything, I'm going to explain.
The first one was unpredictable and suspenseful. It wasn't just blood and gore. That's always a good thing. The plot, characters... it was all good ('specially plot). One of the things I think you need to work on is your battle scenes. Although I normally get confused in those... I only like the end result, not the battle itself, so that may only be me... I'm not too sure. The ending was creeeepy, by the way.
rofl. I liked the plot in the next one as well. Made me laugh. And yes, I am aware of my strange sense of humor. I liked the way you made Harold a business sort of person. His personality was like the comic relief. For a brief moment, Harold couldn’t decide what was more frightening, this, or the sudden realization that he must have lost his own briefcase. See, that was funny. To me, Zylem who laughs at everything, anyway. So was this: He took out his card case and counted, “Aha” he exclaimed to no one in particular, as he was alone in the elevator, “There are only 13 in here!” Sure, he didn’t quite know how many there had been in there before lunch, but it still made him feel better. And.. I'm not gonna copy and paste anymore than that, but there was probably more I laughed at.. in a good way. See, it's good to have a serious plot with a character who.. can lighten up the story a bit. Like Harold did.
rofl. Last one. The batshit. Like the change in perspective on that one. Sometimes it's good to experiment from third and first person. But I think you could really expand on it. Or not. It could be that the flashbacks were s'pose to be vague and I'm s'pose to guess, and I was just slow in realizing. I was all, "HO SHIT" when he had the pistol. You built up to that point, making it suspenseful. Now he went from a mourning man to a batshit with a gun. That's pretty wicked. One thing, though.. wasn't there other people near the grave? I mean.. wouldn't they notice a guy with a gun? Just wonderin... I may have it all wrong. But you should explain that. Like, say he moved to a different spot, or have him hear people screaming like, "DON'T SHOOT. PUT DOWN THE GUN. PUT IT-Oh, shit.. too late." But batshits (like that word now) do make for good stories.
Yeah, those are my lovely comments. I find what helps is leaving them for a few months, the when you're bored one day, reread them. You'll forget some of it, so you'll kind of be like a person who's just reading it instead of the actual writer of it. And you'll either say, "Wow, that was real good, how could I post that.." or (this is more what I think) "Jesus, how could I post that piece of crap?" But I doubt you'll say the second one.. I enjoyed them. And if you do, by any chance, think it's a piece of crap, at least you'd know what to fix.
I dunno if you were already gonna do what I said above, but that's what I always do if I wanna know what people think.
Now I wanna write something.. What's the word.. INSPIRATIONAL. That's it. Your writing is very inspirational.
PS: Didja notice in all yer short stories, the main character died? I just realized that.. Wicked. I always wanted to write something like that. Unfortunately I stopped writing it, as usual.
Re: My attempts at horror... « Reply #2 on Sept 2, 2008, 5:57pm »
Well...in horror, the morality rate of main characters is generally very high, if you ask me...
And on the fighting scenes...yeah...I did sorta hate writing them. I'm pretty bad with those. I can never think up a good way for it to happen- I can think up a good outcome, but almost never a good way to get there.
Oh, and on the other people at the grave... I'm going to give you the literary play-by-play of the first and second paragraphs, and probably clear some stuff up for you.
The rain fell in sheets that day. Grey light filtered through the tears of God, dimly illuminating the crooked, forgotten headstones. Okay, we have a setting in these two sentences. It's a raining day at a cemetery. Clear enough? Tall, dark figures gathered around an open grave. Grieving men and women wept beneath umbrellas as a chilling wind swept across the soggy earth. What funeral is complete without mourners? One man stood in front of the tightly huddled group, reciting verses from a holy book, barely protected from the rain. We can't forget the priest, sending off our dead with their merry little funeral rights...
The casket of the departed was shielded by a small tarp as it was slowly lowered into the earth's gaping wound. This be their lowering the body into a new grave. We now have the dead person placed, if not by name, by role. The tearful mourning watched in silent sadness. Okay, now there is grieving. She will be missed, yadda-yadda. The rain worsened as the figures draped in black abandoned the grave. And here is your answer, Zylem! The mourners are leaving, because though they will miss this departed person, this person apparently isn't worth getting this rented tux spattered with mud or rain. That's where all the possible witnesses went.
Aren't the flashbacks obvious? She cheated on him, and he beat her to death. I thought it was rather simple to inference.
Hello there. I'm the near intolerable, irritading, sarcastic smartass. Pleasure to meet you.
Joined: Nov 2007 Gender: Male Posts: 114 Location: No where, planning my grave. Karma: 7
Re: My attempts at horror... « Reply #3 on Sept 2, 2008, 7:47pm »
Well, geez, you don't gotta explain every senten-OOOOH. How did I miss that? Must'a skipped that sentence somehow... Whoops. Ok. Nevermind that comment.
AHHH. Now you spoiled it. I was s'pose to figure it out... Well, I knew he was pissed off at her, but not that she had cheated. I thought he was only rejected. And I was vaguely aware that he had some part in her death...
Maybe clear it up just a tad... Not too much, though. Cause that would take away the mystery of it.
![[Search This Thread]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/search2.gif)
![[Send Topic To Friend]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/sendtopic.gif)
![[Print]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/print.gif)
Author![[avatar]](http://i303.photobucket.com/albums/nn155/chaosducky/redwolf1-1.jpg)
Logged![[image]](http://i303.photobucket.com/albums/nn155/chaosducky/red-wolf-1.jpg)
![[avatar]](http://img242.imageshack.us/img242/469/av5vc2.png)
![[msn]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/msn.gif)
![[aim]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/aim.gif)
![[homepage]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/www_sm.gif)
![[image]](http://i36.tinypic.com/2rrtdn5.jpg)
![[avatar]](http://i37.tinypic.com/6ylekw.jpg)
![[image]](http://i33.tinypic.com/qyib75.jpg)