blood-crusted dagger
ultraviolet wrote:Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound is hypnotizing, working against Aneko’s struggle for consciousness. Despite her deep desire to block out the cruel world, she can’t do it. She is Shilah’s only hope, bleak though that hope is. Poetic, but I stumbled in the last part. Revise.
Weeks ago, Aneko and Shilah had run away from their foster home. They had had no choice #FF0000 ">Revise so that your sentence doesn't use "had" twice in a row. It's weird to see those kinds of sentences. In fact I'm pretty sure you can just take off one had without damaging the sentence.. If they had stayed, they would have been separated.
After social services had taken them away from their abusive parents, second grader Shilah had been traumatized enough. Aneko was his only anchor. She still is. #FF0000 ">...Getting bored. Infodumping...Though not anchor enough to keep his soul from passing on should Emory come back and beat the life right out of him #FF0000 ">This last sentence is too forced. Revise..
After spending days hiding in the woods, Aneko and Shilah had been found out. Unfortunately, not by someone sympathetic to their pleas. No, not by someone sympathetic at all.
Emory and his group of thugs had abducted them, trapping them in a shack in the middle of nowhere. There they have remained for weeks chained to the floor.
It is not as if they could even hold two foster kids for ransom. #FF0000 ">I just realized your tenses are all over the place. Might want to fix that. Who would give into the demands? Emory knows this. He is not doing this for any gain other than the sick pleasure of beating two runaways.
He is gone for the time being, but could burst back in at any moment. #FF0000 ">Ah. I realize what you did. The flashback/what happened before was in past tense...Okay. But the transition threw me off. Might want to smooth that out. And Aneko has to be awake for that. She has to do anything in her power to get Emory to extend any sort of mercy that may be lurking in his veins, undetected up to this point #FF0000 ">This last part is a misplaced modifier.. Mercy to Shilah. That’s all that matters.
Though right now Shilah’s chances are looking rather grim. Emory’s last reign of terror had knocked Shilah unconscious, leaving him in a heap, across the room. He is lying in a pool of blood, blood which is slowly draining from his body. #FF0000 ">Last part is clunky, revise. Limited blood. Which could soon run out.
The only thing keeping Aneko from drifting off is the constantly uprising memory of the night before. She can hear the pain-laden shrieks. #FF0000 ">I'm not feeling sure about pain-laden shrieks. Kind of awkward to me. Revise. She can see the agonized expression on Shilah’s face with each lash of Emory’s whip--one of his many weapons of choice. She can feel the tears streaming down her face as she watched it happen.
And she can feel the throbbing coming from her many open wounds. She can taste blood in her mouth. Looking at her arms and her legs, she can see scar upon scar, both old and new. The same on Shilah’s broken body. #FF0000 ">But no wounds? Just scars? 0o Wounds don't heal that fast, I believe.
Off in the distance Aneko can hear an engine roaring faintly, though #FF0000 ">it grows louder as it nears. That can only mean one thing: Emory.
Immediately Aneko’s pulse quickens, but she #FF0000 ">forces herself to stay calm. Panic would only worsen the situation.
The wooden door creaks open, and Emory’s face appears.
“Miss me, Doll?” he asks with a sneer, an evil gleam coming from his eyes.
He enters the rest of the way then slams the door shut. He is holding his favored whip in one hand, and a dagger #FF0000 ">is strapped to his leg. Obviously he wants options.
“So how’s bro-bro doing?” #FF0000 ">Got rid of "Doll" to make the dialog less stilted. He walks up to Shilah and kicks his side hard, but Shilah just flops over. “Wake up.” Emory says gruffly to Shilah. “I said WAKE UP!” He grabs Shilah by the collar and lifts him up to the end of his chains. #FF0000 ">By the way, where are the chains connected to?
“Stop it!” Aneko screams, tears running down her face.
“Whatever you say, Doll.” Emory drops Shilah, who resumes being a heap on the floor. He takes his whip and cracks it against Shilah’s body. New wounds emerge. #FF0000 ">I'm not sure about emerge.
#FF0000 ">Also, let's think. You're fond of ending your dialog with names. Think about when you talk to a person. YOu don't go like this, do you?
"Hi B."
"Hey A. You're looking pretty bored."
"That's because I *am* bored, B."
"Oh. That sucks, A."
"I know, B. Save me?"
See? It's weird to keep naming the person you're talking to. Stilted. So yea. Don't keep doing it.
“This better, Doll?” He whips Shilah again. Then again.
“Please.” Aneko begs. #FF0000 ">Mind showing me some body language? Trembling lip, maybe she looks away? “Anything. I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill him.”
Emory looks up. “Ya don’t want me to kill him, do you?”
He takes the dagger from its sheath and sticks it in Shilah’s gut. Again. Then again. Blade still bloody, he re-sheaths his knife. #FF0000 ">Hm no. This doesn't have any of the emotional impact it should be having. I should be flinching or shaking now. Should be. But I'm not.
“Oops.” says Emory. “Looks like I played too rough. Bro-bro#FF0000 ">'s dead.” #FF0000 ">NARM. Over-the-top and forced. Revise heavily.
“NO!” Aneko screams.
“So now there’s only you.” Emory takes a menacing step toward Aneko.
Kill me. Please kill me, I beg you! Kill me. Of course Aneko can’t say this out loud. That would only make Emory want to keep her alive. Barely, but painfully alive. And without Shilah around, she wants to be dead.
“Stand.” Emory demands. Slowly, from the many injuries, Aneko stands. Apparently not fast enough for Emory though, because he grabs her shirt and yanks her up. She hangs her head in grief, tears spilling from her two eyes. #FF0000 ">She just hangs her head? And she follows his demands? Her brother just *died*. She will not be this compliant.
Emory takes the blood-crusted dagger and puts it beneath her chin. Slowly he lifts it, forcing Aneko to look him in the eye. He repulses her with his wicked smile.
“So Doll, want to join bro-bro over there?” He uses his head to gesture to Shilah. Or at least Shilah’s body.
“No! Don’t kill me! I’m too young to die! Please!” #FF0000 ">If this is said in a loud voice it will be obviously fake. It would be better if you told the reader she whispered it, or if she simply whimpered and cried, shaking her head. At twelve years old, Aneko is too young to die, but this isn’t why she says this. Reverse Psychology. She’s hoping this will earn her a quick death. #FF0000 ">You don't need to tell me this. I know. That’s the only hope she dares hope now, quick death. #FF0000 ">Awkward sentence. Fix.
“Ya don’t wanna die, Doll? Well it’d be selfish of me not to give ya that.”
Emory pushes Aneko against the wall, and her knees give way; she topples to the floor. Emory lashes his whip at her arms, and her legs, her back, and her neck.
Aneko’s vision is starting to blur. The room is getting fuzzy.
“It’s ‘bout time for me to head out, but ‘fore I go, I wanna make sure you don’t forget ‘bout me none.”
He grabs Aneko’s arm and withdraws his knife. Among the black and deep purple bruises, he carves a jagged EM in it. #FF0000 ">Which part of the body?
“Later, Doll.” And he leaves.
The room around Aneko starts to whirl. The physical pain becomes unbearable when coupled with the emotional sorrow and heartache from losing Shilah. #FF0000 ">You're not making me feel it. She vaguely realizes she is bleeding profusely. She doesn’t care.
It’s time to join Shilah. Aneko slumps over, and wills herself dead.
What do you think? Writing this made me cry. I know, I'm a wimp, but just thought I'd say that. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it.
LOVE --ULTRAVIOLET