Horror

Griffinkeeper wrote:What the heck? i'm gonna make it more of a story and then maybe you'll change your mind!!


I have to wonder what the point of this story was. It seemed mostly about cramming as much gore and scenes from every terrible slaughter film into three paragraphs.

Most slaughter films are terrible because they focus only on the kill. They do this at the expense of character development with a predictable end. When you don't develop the characters, then the readers feel nothing when they die.

My reaction to this story was one of disgust. Why read about some idiot running around until he died? He has no connection with me, the reader, nor does he seem to be doing anything interesting. My frustration with the character prevents me from enjoying this.

I'm not fond of blood and gore... but you made it wickedly cool

I really like your style. I find that the drab, 10 page endings of stories bore me like hell, but that got to the point, no faffy waste of words. The ending was very interesting - the way you did it. Nice blunt ending, and catchy too.

I must express how I feel about slaughter scenes though. Contrary to what I just said, I would have felt more involved as a reader if not just the kill had been painted. Its like a stickman with an arrow sticking out of his body.

Try experimenting with other genres to get a feel of including them too,

Mark

I love it. This is the goriest story here that I've found on YWS. You have great detail and it's not rushed at all. A suggestion that I have is to put spaces between the paragraph.

The ending was great because it was unexpected, well duh... So let me get this straight, he was in a plane, and then he was standing in mid-air? Where is everyone else? Is everyone dead except him? ...well until the end of course.

What happened to the demons?? Keep writing and tell me when you post again!

What the heck?

I have to wonder what the point of this story was. It seemed mostly about cramming as much gore and scenes from every terrible slaughter film into three paragraphs.

Most slaughter films are terrible because they focus only on the kill. They do this at the expense of character development with a predictable end. When you don't develop the characters, then the readers feel nothing when they die.

My reaction to this story was one of disgust. Why read about some idiot running around until he died? He has no connection with me, the reader, nor does he seem to be doing anything interesting. My frustration with the character prevents me from enjoying this.

It's well written but it seemed alot like Darren Shan's book's e.g the demonta series. But if you could steer it away from that then it could turn out to become a really good story. Keep written its good.

Really bloody and violent sounding story. I really liked how you ended it.

Good descriptions on the monster that was chasing the protagonist, I liked how you described the main character's thoughts and reactions to everything, it seemed like an actual horror movie. Great job!

DoubleTake wrote:This is a section of my story. The next section coming soon....


I charged up the aisle, the beast hot on my heels. I could feel his breathe on my neck, like a warm breeze with a foul stench of death. I was dodging bodies all the way, jumping over limbs and heads, trying not to look at them in case I recognized someone I knew. Flecks of blood flew from the demon’s mouth as it ran, scuttling along, jumping on and off chairs. At one point it got in front of me, bearing its teeth, yellow eyes burning a hole in my face. It seemed as if he was grinning at me, there was a hole had had been slashed in it's face. Its teeth were impossibly black, so black that you couldn’t see them. But you knew where they were because there was a never-ending supply of blood dripping from them and pieces of flesh trapped in the dark caverns between each tooth.
I dived into a toilet and locked the door, even though I knew that a locked door wasn’t going to stop this monster from getting in and ripping me to shreds. The demonic creature banged on the door howled hoarsely. He…it managed to bite a howl clean through the door. It stuck it’s head into the hole,snapping, snarling. Its teeth stared at me as it frantically tried to reach me, snapping at thin air.
You could have filled a small pond with my sweat, it was starting to create a pool on the floor. The scary thing was that there was a bigger pool. Of blood. I looked down at my chest, shocked. It didn’t remember being struck, but sure enough there was deep gash in my chest. It went so far that I could see my heart beating out of time inside my ribs.

If I stayed in the toilet the demon would break in and there would be no-where to run. I looked around for a weapon of some sort. There was nothing, only toilet paper and hand towels. In the end I grabbed a roll of toilet paper and a bottle of soap. I drenched the paper in soap and shoved in the monsters mouth. It gagged and choked in disgust at the taste of honey and camomile and the soggy paper stuck in its mouth. I slammed the door open in it’s face and ran while the creature was dazed.
Then came the clincher.
My mum. She was still in her chair and just for a moment I allowed hope to take over. But no, she fell forward revealing that she had been cut straight down the middle into two halves. A demon like a pit-bull but with a massive spiders body was feasting on the insides and chewing on her brain. I screamed for the third time and this time I didn’t stop. I ran screaming down the isle, tripping over dad’s head as I ran. It was mangled and burned, eyes ripped out of sockets. The monster was on to me again. I stood still, petrified, as it bounded towards me. It’s face was smashed, one of its yellow eyes was hanging out its socket on strings of blue flesh and bouncing as it ran. It jumped on me and all the other creatures gathered around, about fifteen of them. Its teeth were like daggers cutting into the flesh of my legs. The demon ripped the bone clean in two and started chewing on the lower half. Obviously I couldn’t take having half my leg mauled, I fell unconscious.

To my great surprise, I woke up. I was still on the plane, in what must be the kitchen area. I looked around, no demonic beasts. But there was blood everywhere, splattered on walls, filling bowls and pooling on the floor. I looked down at my body and nearly fainted again. My whole right leg was missing and my left arm was reduced to a stump, gushing blood. My chest was like a pincushion, there was three kitchen knives stuck in it. Blood was spurting in torrents from every wound. How was I alive? I’ve never been one for miracles but this had to be one. I may be only half the person I was when I got on the plane, but I was alive it would seem. I stood up on my one good leg, using some else’s walking stick. Gingerly, scared as hell, I walked into the main cabin. No demons, that was the first thing I noticed. There were no bodies either, that’s was creepy. I thought I was going to be sick at the sight of no bodies. The blood was still there, lots of it, and grey monster blood to. That was a good sign, but where was everyone. I looked up, searching, hopelessly, for signs of life.
And that’s when I found the bodies. They where all hanging by there feet, neatly lined up like cows in a butchers shop. Except this was a monster’s butcher shop. They were all decapitated, gaping O’s dripping and convulsing. Some were swaying, some were even wriggling and spurting small torrents of blood from stumpy arms.
I looked away, horrified. And that’s when I found the demons. They where walking slowly towards me down the isle on their hind legs, almost like humans. Some had attached human faces to their own. I spotted my dad’s face in amongst the crowd and cried out. All the beasts crouched simultaneously and began to run. I backed up against a wall and shrivelled, screaming.
“I don’t want to die!” The demons were only meters away when they all ground to a halt. The looked at me and cocked there demonic heads. Then they started laughing.
“Son of a…” Suddenly their bodies changed, swirling and liquefying like a stormy sea. They stopped changing and looked at me. They were now the forms of all the humans on the plane. All the dead, laughing. But as they laughed, blood dribbled from their mouth’s.
Suddenly they all turned to each other. And started attacking. They were killing each other.
“What the hell is happening?” I cried. Not in interest, but in fright. In seconds many lay dead. The rest of the living turned to me and smiled. Then they all lifted what had now become claws, and slit their own throats. The plane was gone and I was standing in mid-air. That’s when I realised what it all meant, what was going on. I was already dead.