z

Young Writers Society


16+ Violence

The devil

by RavenNaal


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence.

Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock… The clock hands tick by as the minutes pass faster than he can comprehend. He looks down at his hands. Why? Why is red the only thing he can see? And why can he not get that atrocious smell out of his brain. Like a rusty knife dug deep into his canals. So strong, so powerful. He looks around, trying to find something to prop himself on, his head is spinning. Round and Round, just like the merry go rounds he loved as a kid. A never ending roundabout. He wants to vomit, he wants to pass out, to get away from this sight, from this smell, but he can't move, he can't stand. The man collapses, having a full, horrific view of what atrocities he had committed…. but it's not his fault, he had to do it, even if the grass and trees are soaked in blood, he did it, injured and burned, he could not let that monster free, he just couldn't…

………………

“Sir…Sir….Sir…Sir!” The man jerks awake, startled by a sudden voice. His eyes are crusty, heavy from sleep. He sees a beautiful young girl standing above him. “I'm sorry sir, but you’ve been here for over 3 hours, I didn’t want to wake you up, but it's time for us to close, so I have to ask you to leave.” The girl speaks in a soft, pleasing tone. Apologetic for having to be the one to wake up the tired man. He slowly pushes his chair away and gets up. He tries to remember where he is… Oh, that's right, he was at the new mall that opened up, hoping to find someone of suitable looks. The man grovely thanks the woman and leaves the store, entering the bigger complex of the mall. He looks up through the skylight. It’s dark, the stars seem to form Orion the hunter. He goes back to his journey towards his car, looking around from time to time, still hoping to find someone. Just one person. He does not.

The man reaches his ca and fumbles for his keys, still drowsy from the late night he had, and then the little amount of sleep he had at the store. Opening the door, starting the engine, then reversing out of his spot, he checks his mirrors. Behind him is another car. Red and sleek, must be a new model the man notes. He catches a glimpse of who is inside. He feels pleased at who is behind the wheel. So the man waits, waits for the other to leave, then slowly drives behind them, enjoying the peaceful radio tunes playing out, and the gorgeous night sky all around him. The man is a careful driver, he needs to be careful in his job. So it seems that quirk has bled over to his everyday life. The car in front of him swerves! He begins to panic but quickly returns to his calm self. He swiftly turns the wheel around to pass the swiftly rotating car when a deer lunges graciously infront of him causing his car to stop dead in its tracks. The man's head falls forward, smashing into the steering wheel, blood starts to trickle and his head starts to throb with pain. But the man is ok, he's had worse injuries, both received, and given. The man gets out of his car, not too concerned for the damage that happened, but instead looks for the other car. He sees smoke down a hill, a heavily damaged car is propped up on a tree beneath it. The man walks towards the car, pulling the broken door off its hinges looking inside for anyone alive. There is no one alive in the car. Only broken, burnt products. So the man leaves, disappointed.

Walking home, through the thicket of the woods, the man goes west, forward for what seems like eternity. Crushing the leaves beneath his boots and weaving through the trees. The man reaches an old, crooked cabin. The smell of blood is thick here. The man opens the cabin's wooden door and steps in. He takes in the sights before him. This place is as familiar to him as his family home when he was just a little boy. He’s had to work here for years now. It's not the best workplace, but it's the safest. Far away from the bustling city, and far away from any person wanting to get into his business. A place he can relax, and do honest, hard work. The man walks inside and gets to work. Cutting up some tender meat, then placing it to the side to save for food later in the day. He cuts around the parts he needs, squeezing as much blood as he can out the way, then carefully rips some pulsing innards out. The man wraps the parts in a thick linen, then sets it in his fridge so it does not rot. He walks over to the phone, and rotates the dial to call the number he needs. Suddenly a soft voice is heard from outside, the man quickly slams the phone back down and looks through the windows. He does not own blinds, he never thought someone would come out this far. The man quietly walks over to the unlit fireplace and puts his hand inside, reaching towards the roof and pulling out his revolver. The man then walks over to the drawers in the corner of the cabin, but the floorboards underneath him creak. He stops and looks towards the door, expecting someone to come barging in. The man is tense, he’s constantly sweating, and he’s tightly gripping the handle and trigger. But no one comes in. The silence is killing, draining the man. He tries to calm himself down and continues forward towards the corner. He reaches the three drawers and opens the left one. It's filled with bullets, and a scalpel towards the back. The man grabs six bullets and puts them in the chambers of his gun, then grabs a few more and stuffs them in his pocket. He scans around the cabin, making sure all the windows are still closed and the door is not open. It is not. He tip toes towards the door, grabs the handle and waits. He waits for minutes, the door handle is drenched in sweat. He gathers up the courage and opens the door… nothing happens. He steps outside, gaining even more courage. Nothing happens. The man is relieved. He chooses to look around, making sure no one is hiding anywhere. But there is, behind him, a pair of eyes are locked onto his head. A dull, blunt axe swings down onto his head. The man feels searing, burning pain above him, it's indescribable. He falls down, he wants to scream, the pain is so great. The man looks up… oh, he understands now. This is what he gets for not being careful enough, a burnt god is above him. The only one in his life that has had this much control over him. They say only one thing to him… “You monster.” Then nothing.

………….

Crunch… Squelch… Crunch… thud… Deep in the woods, pieces of a body are lying about. The leaves, the trees, and the ground are stained red. A wreck is still hacking on a shapeless body. Tears flow through the person's face, everything is like a dream, the feeling of skin and flesh burning away. The smell of your own flesh is disgusting, revolting. The devil is staring at him while he works. But it does not matter much, he caught up to this devil, and even sent them back into hell, but its still so disgusting, he can't think, he can't move, he's just a machine right now, still hacking away on a demonic lump of flesh, soon he will stop, his body will get tired and he’ll collapse, but right now, he's too dazed to speak, to move, and to think.


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Sun Mar 05, 2023 11:06 am
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Liminality wrote a review...



Hi there! Lim here with a short review.

Before I get into the review, just wanted to make a note: I’ve bumped your work up to 16+ because it contains acts of violence, which have to be at least 16+ even with the ‘Violence’ tag, according to YWS Content Guidelines. Now on to reviewing!

General Impressions

The story is definitely very mysterious. The lack of character names or many identifying details makes it hard to tell who is who, and I think that might be part of the ‘mystery’ of this mystery story. Both characters’ states of mind are shown in the style, so it feels kind of stream-of-conscious-like. I kind of sympathised more with the person in the first and last sections (and I think they’re the same person) because they seem to have reacted violently in fear.

I interpreted it like this: there is the driver of the red car, and the killer. The killer is the one who wakes up in the second scene and he somehow causes the red car’s driver to crash. The killer mistakenly thinks said driver is dead and walks away. The driver is not dead and follows him. Now here I’m not sure if the driver finds out about the killer’s previous victims or is angry that the killer made him crash + left him for dead. But my theory is that it’s the driver who kills the man in his house.

Glows – What I liked

I liked how a lot of the descriptions create this visceral, scary feeling. For instance, “burnt god” seems to be a figurative expression of how much power this person has over the man in that moment, when earlier the man was the one who was in charge.

I also like the way you use punctuation to convey the character’s emotions and fragmented thoughts.

Like a rusty knife dug deep into his canals. So strong, so powerful.

^ For example, these aren’t punctuated like conventional sentences, but the punctuation marks good places to pause that convey the character’s thoughts. It makes him sound very overwhelmed by the smell of blood, which shows his horror at his situation and what he has done.

Another strength of this piece was that I could tell by the word choices that something was not quite right about the man in the second/ middle part.
The man walks towards the car, pulling the broken door off its hinges looking inside for anyone alive. There is no one alive in the car. Only broken, burnt products. So the man leaves, disappointed.

^ The fact that he calls the dead bodies (?) of people in the car accident “burnt products” is very telling.

Grows – Ideas to Consider

I wonder if the onomatopoeia, such as the “Tick . . . Tock . . .” in the beginning, is really needed to convey the atmosphere. I personally didn’t feel like it added a lot to the descriptions. The clock ticking example also initially made me think of a slow ticking of the clock because of the “…” in between – but I then realised the next sentence is about how he feels like time is passing quickly instead.
that's right, he was at the new mall that opened up, hoping to find someone of suitable looks.

^ I wonder why the appearance of his victim matters to him, if what he does is cut them up? I interpreted the “meat” paragraph as being about that anyway, so sorry if I’ve got this wrong ^^’ And he didn’t seem to focus much on that after those few lines in the beginning, so I kind of feel like it doesn’t need to be there to understand the story.
Something else to think about might be paragraphing. Having a lot of thoughts be in one paragraph can help convey a character’s rushing mind. At the same time though, I felt the effect was weakened since most of the paragraphs here are fairly long. I also kind of found myself wishing that new actions would be introduced in a new paragraph, for example, between the killer calling a number and the “soft voice” coming in – I thought that could have been a good place to start the next paragraph.

Overall

I thought this was an interesting piece that did some experimenting with style. I liked the narration – I thought it was a unique and fitting way to tell this story. My main suggestion for revision or future stories would be to think about paragraphing (and also maybe go lighter on onomatopoeia).

Hope this helped – let me know if you’d like more specific feedback!
-Lim

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Sun Feb 05, 2023 3:02 am
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KateHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: This is quite the piece here. I think it definitely lives upto that name very well in the vibe that it manages to hit there. You've painted a rather powerful little tale here that rings very true with this theme of darkness and death all throughout and I think you've done a great job with this.

Anyway let's get right to it,

Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock… The clock hands tick by as the minutes pass faster than he can comprehend. He looks down at his hands. Why? Why is red the only thing he can see? And why can he not get that atrocious smell out of his brain. Like a rusty knife dug deep into his canals. So strong, so powerful. He looks around, trying to find something to prop himself on, his head is spinning. Round and Round, just like the merry go rounds he loved as a kid. A never ending roundabout. He wants to vomit, he wants to pass out, to get away from this sight, from this smell, but he can't move, he can't stand. The man collapses, having a full, horrific view of what atrocities he had committed…. but it's not his fault, he had to do it, even if the grass and trees are soaked in blood, he did it, injured and burned, he could not let that monster free, he just couldn't…


Well this is quite the start here. A very powerful description there to get us started and its really hitting quite hard there. I think you've done a wonderful job bringing that to life and conveying just how big of a moment this is. It really feels so very real here even with us just being one paragraph deep at the moment. A lovely place to start.

“Sir…Sir….Sir…Sir!” The man jerks awake, startled by a sudden voice. His eyes are crusty, heavy from sleep. He sees a beautiful young girl standing above him. “I'm sorry sir, but you’ve been here for over 3 hours, I didn’t want to wake you up, but it's time for us to close, so I have to ask you to leave.” The girl speaks in a soft, pleasing tone. Apologetic for having to be the one to wake up the tired man. He slowly pushes his chair away and gets up. He tries to remember where he is… Oh, that's right, he was at the new mall that opened up, hoping to find someone of suitable looks. The man grovely thanks the woman and leaves the store, entering the bigger complex of the mall. He looks up through the skylight. It’s dark, the stars seem to form Orion the hunter. He goes back to his journey towards his car, looking around from time to time, still hoping to find someone. Just one person. He does not.


Well this is an interesting place to transition. It looks like we're looking at the same man here only know we're seeing more of sort of the effects of what just happened and what appears to be the aftermath from the looks of things. At any rate we've got ourselves a rather powerful description going there. I can't wait to see where this is leading us. It already seems like this man is in quite the spot, and having suffered from perhaps even more than just that first scene.

The man reaches his ca and fumbles for his keys, still drowsy from the late night he had, and then the little amount of sleep he had at the store. Opening the door, starting the engine, then reversing out of his spot, he checks his mirrors. Behind him is another car. Red and sleek, must be a new model the man notes. He catches a glimpse of who is inside. He feels pleased at who is behind the wheel. So the man waits, waits for the other to leave, then slowly drives behind them, enjoying the peaceful radio tunes playing out, and the gorgeous night sky all around him. The man is a careful driver, he needs to be careful in his job. So it seems that quirk has bled over to his everyday life. The car in front of him swerves! He begins to panic but quickly returns to his calm self. He swiftly turns the wheel around to pass the swiftly rotating car when a deer lunges graciously infront of him causing his car to stop dead in its tracks. The man's head falls forward, smashing into the steering wheel, blood starts to trickle and his head starts to throb with pain. But the man is ok, he's had worse injuries, both received, and given. The man gets out of his car, not too concerned for the damage that happened, but instead looks for the other car. He sees smoke down a hill, a heavily damaged car is propped up on a tree beneath it. The man walks towards the car, pulling the broken door off its hinges looking inside for anyone alive. There is no one alive in the car. Only broken, burnt products. So the man leaves, disappointed.


Well wow, even our casual background scenery seems centered very much on death and destruction here wow. I loved the progression of that. You described that accident really well there with how you set up the inevitable accident and then the actual payoff. The brief moment of a stop as this person despite already being in quite bad shape going to check on the other car is quite something too because it does tell us a few things about this character.

Walking home, through the thicket of the woods, the man goes west, forward for what seems like eternity. Crushing the leaves beneath his boots and weaving through the trees. The man reaches an old, crooked cabin. The smell of blood is thick here. The man opens the cabin's wooden door and steps in. He takes in the sights before him. This place is as familiar to him as his family home when he was just a little boy. He’s had to work here for years now. It's not the best workplace, but it's the safest. Far away from the bustling city, and far away from any person wanting to get into his business. A place he can relax, and do honest, hard work. The man walks inside and gets to work. Cutting up some tender meat, then placing it to the side to save for food later in the day. He cuts around the parts he needs, squeezing as much blood as he can out the way, then carefully rips some pulsing innards out. The man wraps the parts in a thick linen, then sets it in his fridge so it does not rot. He walks over to the phone, and rotates the dial to call the number he needs. Suddenly a soft voice is heard from outside, the man quickly slams the phone back down and looks through the windows. He does not own blinds, he never thought someone would come out this far. The man quietly walks over to the unlit fireplace and puts his hand inside, reaching towards the roof and pulling out his revolver. The man then walks over to the drawers in the corner of the cabin, but the floorboards underneath him creak. He stops and looks towards the door, expecting someone to come barging in. The man is tense, he’s constantly sweating, and he’s tightly gripping the handle and trigger. But no one comes in. The silence is killing, draining the man. He tries to calm himself down and continues forward towards the corner. He reaches the three drawers and opens the left one. It's filled with bullets, and a scalpel towards the back. The man grabs six bullets and puts them in the chambers of his gun, then grabs a few more and stuffs them in his pocket. He scans around the cabin, making sure all the windows are still closed and the door is not open. It is not. He tip toes towards the door, grabs the handle and waits. He waits for minutes, the door handle is drenched in sweat. He gathers up the courage and opens the door… nothing happens. He steps outside, gaining even more courage. Nothing happens. The man is relieved. He chooses to look around, making sure no one is hiding anywhere. But there is, behind him, a pair of eyes are locked onto his head. A dull, blunt axe swings down onto his head. The man feels searing, burning pain above him, it's indescribable. He falls down, he wants to scream, the pain is so great. The man looks up… oh, he understands now. This is what he gets for not being careful enough, a burnt god is above him. The only one in his life that has had this much control over him. They say only one thing to him… “You monster.” Then nothing.

Okayy...this one...is a little bit of a tough one. On one hand, once again I love the way the narrative plays out here. The anticipation and the tension being built up, this time to a properly terrifying degree in this forest and then the sudden surprise attack. Its all quite nicely timed I think and it hits you with a punch just like you want a scene like this to. Unfortunately this scene does become a tad bit difficult to follow though because of the small matter of the paragraph being so large. I think breaking this up into a couple would help out a little there.

Crunch… Squelch… Crunch… thud… Deep in the woods, pieces of a body are lying about. The leaves, the trees, and the ground are stained red. A wreck is still hacking on a shapeless body. Tears flow through the person's face, everything is like a dream, the feeling of skin and flesh burning away. The smell of your own flesh is disgusting, revolting. The devil is staring at him while he works. But it does not matter much, he caught up to this devil, and even sent them back into hell, but its still so disgusting, he can't think, he can't move, he's just a machine right now, still hacking away on a demonic lump of flesh, soon he will stop, his body will get tired and he’ll collapse, but right now, he's too dazed to speak, to move, and to think.


Well this is a powerful way to end off there. I think it caps off the vibe that we had going so far quite nicely. It appears this is the person who did the attack and maybe that means this one is the same from the start and the middle section was a different man from the start. Either way a powerful ending there. Its a good place to almost release all of this tension and darkness built up from earlier.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall, a very powerful piece this one. I think you managed to nail the atmosphere that you were going for there and the result is quite the tale. You've done a pretty solid job here. There's really only that issue of the paragraph that seems to stand out as something that breaks the flow.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Kate




RavenNaal says...


Glad you enjoyed it! Always happy to hear a review : )




In the winter months, snowstorms and rainfall in the Patagonian Ice Fields can drastically affect the landscape. Worsened by heavy winds, such storms can reduce visibility and lead to glacial calving, ice collapses, and avalanches. During these conditions, travel is not advised.
— The Documentarian