What Happens When You Die Looking Into Your Killer's Eyes?

When your death is being orchestrated, and you're looking your dominant foe in the eyes, do you wonder, "Why me?" or "Why now?"  Today a man broke into my castle. My home.  Now I am looking at him as he stares into my eyes, piercing the safe haven of my mind.  It seems as though they're two unprotected tunnels into my thoughts, exposing my only true sanctuary.  My eyes don't seem to shut, it could be that he is controlling me, or maybe I'm too terrified to cut him away from his infatuation.  As I look back into his eyes, I see not hatred or spite, but fascination and a pensive soul, my doom bringer analyzing my death.  I wonder, what goes through the mind of my killer?

     Earlier this hour he tortured me, my own utensils and tools used to slice away my protective layer, unveiling my inner workings.  I was a Swiss watch which had been cracked open, exposed to the unforgiving environment in which we live.  Knives did not pierce, but only slit.  Straight lines ran across my chest and arms, careful not to kill me instantly, or quickly.  I realized today I was to die, a plaything of this mysterious entity.  I wanted to live, an unforgiving and relentless pang of urgency pushing all of my limits.  I realized today all that I hadn't done, all that I owed to everyone.  Emotions came so fast to me, that to process them would be something not even the most trained individual could do.  Never before had I experienced the worst experience of my life until today.  These red lines which ran across my body didn't create this inconceivable situation, but the emotions and realizations.  People say that most seem to realize their appreciation for life shortly before they lose it.  I now find myself one of those people.

     Distantly and unaware, I stare into my killer's eyes, and I slowly shift back into reality, as reality slowly shifts away from my life, soon to be sending me to my eternal grave.  I don't notice my breaths growing shorter, or my mind slowly numbing.  I still lack the one answer I truly want.  I start to form my words, and just as I do I realize my situation to its fullness.  Quivering, my lips quickly seal once more eternally.  As I drift into my eternal slumber, I'm trapped with the question that will never exist.

Comments & reviews · 6
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User avatar
Shepherd
Review

Overall, this gives a neat impression, I would say.

The contractions seem out of place, given that you have taken a more archaic setting and a more formal style of writing. To be honest, they break up the rhythm of the story and give it an unrealistic quality.

Also, the title--to me--seemed wordy. It really didn't make me want to read the story: I already knew what it was about after reading the title! Try something a little more vague or metaphorically related, and then make the question more apparent during your story. Right now, this seems a tiny bit unfocused, and the title is necessary for that reason.

Grammatical nitpicks:

too terrified to cut him away from his infatuation.


I can't say that I like the way you've worded this. To me, it's clunky, and I had to go over it several times before I really felt that I understood what you were saying. Because your vocabulary is so exacting and your prose, as a rule, so smooth, this line really sticks out.

As I look back into his eyes, I see not hatred or spite, but fascination and a pensive soul, my doom bringer analyzing my death.


Doom-bringer (lowercase, of course).

Emotions came so fast to me, that to process them would be something not even the most trained individual could do.


This is unnecesarily wordy, in my opinion. You have established a formality in your piece, and although I recognize that, in this line it seems you are trying too hard. If you shorten this, it would be a much more dramatic sentence.

[quoteNever before had I experienced the worst experience of my life until today.[/quote]

The redundancy makes this much less compelling.

Distantly and unaware,


This should be "Distant" in order to preserve parallelism

I stare into my killer's eyes, and I slowly shift back into reality, as reality slowly shifts away from my life, soon to be sending me to my eternal grave.


This sentence has me tangled, because you have no subject in the last part. Who or what is sending the narrator to his grave?

I like this piece because it is a well-written interpretation of something that has been written since the beginning of human literature. And I think your style is certainly interesting. Good work!

User avatar
Sierra
Comment

Wow. This is amazing. Really powerful. I love how you captured those moments before death so perfectly.

User avatar
Button
Review
Button wrote a review · Thu Aug 19, 2010 2:44 am

I really enjoyed this... it's really interesting that you did both sides of that situation.. it's said that you can't fully interpret or understand the actions of another until you have been on both sides... the killer and the killed. Great write, again.

User avatar
Shearwater
Review

Hey there :)

Today a man broke into my castle. my home.

Capitalize 'My'.

Earlier this hour he torture me, my own utensils and tools used to slice away my protective layer, unveiling my inner workings.

Tortured me.

That's really all I found.
I'm seriously a fan of your work because your words are so strong and you know how to get a point across. (Something that I find myself struggling with at times.)
Anyways, I like the POV you have here, it's different.
Good job!

~Pink

User avatar
KitxKat
Review
KitxKat wrote a review · Wed Aug 18, 2010 5:39 pm

13timmy24 wrote:When your death is being orchestrated, and you're looking your dominant foe in the eyes, do you wonder, "Why me?" or "Why now?"  Today a man broke into my castle. my home.  Now I am looking at him as he stares into my eyes, piercing the safe haven of my mind.  It seems as though they're two unprotected tunnels into my thoughts, exposing my only true sanctuary.  My eyes don't seem to shut, it could be that he is controlling me, or maybe I'm too terrified to cut him away from his infatuation.  As I look back into his eyes, I see not hatred or spite, but fascination and a pensive soul, my doom bringer analyzing my death.  I wonder, what goes through the mind of my killer?
     Earlier this hour he torture me, my own utensils and tools used to slice away my protective layer, unveiling my inner workings.  I was a Swiss watch which had been cracked open, exposed to the unforgiving environment in which we live.  Knives did not pierce, but only slit.  Straight lines ran across my chest and arms, careful not to kill me instantly, or quickly.  I realized today I was to die, a plaything of this mysterious entity.  I wanted to live, an unforgiving and relentless pang of urgency pushing all of my limits.  I realized today all that I hadn't done, all that I owed to everyone.  Emotions came so fast to me, that to process them would be something not even the most trained individual could do.  Never before had I experienced the worst experience of my life until today.  These red lines which ran across my body didn't create this inconceivable situation, but the emotions and realizations.  People say that most seem to realize their appreciation for life shortly before they lose it.  I now find myself one of those people.
     Distantly and unaware, I stare into my killer's eyes, and I slowly shift back into reality, as reality slowly shifts away from my life, soon to be sending me to my eternal grave.  I don't notice my breaths growing shorter, or my mind slowly numbing.  I still lack the one answer I truly want.  I start to form my words, and just as I do I realize my situation to its fullness.  Quivering, my lips quickly seal once more eternally.  As I drift into my eternal slumber, I'm trapped with the question that will never exist.


I literally squealed when I found that this is just the opposite peice to your other one.
It has the same emotion, same amazing description.
Congrats
~Kit



Wicked people never have time for reading. It's one of the reasons for their wickedness.
— Lemony Snicket