Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence and mature content.
I am practicing for my English exams, so I wrote something in one hour, equal to what I would be able to write in, about one hour. I have 5 hours, and I want to use at least one hour for finding ideas, and one for fixing when I am done. So what I want you guys to do, is to do the harshest review you have ever done. By the name of god, if you want to break down a person until he cries, this is the time to do so. I want to gain as much knowledge as I can, becaue this is the best I can make as a first draft.
So, review this piece of shit (I am just boasting you. I don't consider it shit)
The room was slightly lit up by a single wax candle. It was placed on a round table, which was covered with a linen cloth. There were no windows in the room, only a door. A normal square shaped door, with ugly drawings made by kids several years in advance. It was an odd room. Everything was old, except for the wax candle. It had just been replaced.
In the middle of the room, on each side of the round table, there were two chairs. In one of them, there was a middle-aged man, whom was nicely dressed. A black suit and a white shirt, combined with a crimson tie and pitch black shoes. His face was calm and relaxed, and he seemed at peace.
In the other chair, there was a woman. It was the middle-aged man’s wife. She seemed more relaxed than her husband, almost lying in the chair. She was also nicely dressed. She wore a beautiful red dress that reflected the light from the candle, creating a sparkly light show on her body.
The man whispered a few silent words, before he took a sip of his coffee, and started talking to his wife. Every word he said had a relaxed and calm, yet morbid sense. He did not talk, but instead, it seemed more like speech. He did not want to converse; he wanted to tell his wife everything he wanted to say with no response. While talking, he stood up from the chair, and started walking.
His words were unusual, less swearing than usual. It was not a normal speech. A normal speech would suggest a normal theme. But instead, it was like a ritualistic rambling.
Suddenly, he stepped into a pool of liquid. The splashing sound startled the man. His eyes opened wide, and he slowly looked down at the liquid. The thick, dark red liquid was splashed all over his shoes. He turned towards his wife. Her lifeless body was like a ragdoll. The chair was covered in blood, and her lifeless face was pure white. He looked down at her chest, which was bloody. There was a hole in her dress, and blood was still pouring out of it. He ripped open the dress, revealing the monstrous scene. Her chest had been stabbed repeatedly with a knife. On her abs, the skin was cut off, revealing a disturbing figure. A bloody pentagram, carved into her abdominals with a knife.
The man stumbled backwards, falling back into his chair. He stared at the remains of his wife, struggling with what he had just witnessed. He got up, turned around, and ran to the door. This time, when he looked at the door, he could see that there were no child drawings, but instead, signs. A combination of different signs covered the majority of free space on the door. In the middle of the door, there was a rough drawing of two people holding hands. But one of them had horns. The man screamed, clearly terrified. He opened the door, and started running down the dark hallway that lead away from the door. He ran up the stairs that led up to his living room, stumbling in several steps. When he saw the door he felt relieved, but when he was about to open it, he felt a strange tingling in his body. Almost as if he wanted to go back. But he pushed open the door, revealing his peaceful, normally lit up living room. His couch, dining table, bookshelf… No blood. He felt relieved that there was nothing more. He took up his phone and called the police. He told them his wife had been murdered.
The police came to his house 20 minutes later. He told them to go down the stairs and to the end of the hallway. Himself, he didn’t want to go back, and the police accepted this. They went down the stairs, towards his wife. The man went to the bathroom to change clothes. After all, he was almost covered in blood.
In the bathroom, he looked at the mirror. His suit was covered in blood, with few clean spots remaining. He took of his jacket and threw it in the shower cabinet. Suddenly, he remembered something. He had only stepped in the blood. His body paralyzed, and he slowly lifted his head from the floor. Slowly, he saw the reflection of himself. The shirt soaking wet, covered in his wife’s blood. When he could see his face, it felt like the whole world stopped. In the reflection, he did not see the troubled face of a man that had lost his wife. The bloody face in the mirror stared back at him. The man in the mirror, who was now staring at him, had two horns on his head. And the man was… Smiling…