The Man Death Himself

Ooooo creepy! I like how detached it sounds, since the soul is, after all, detached from the body! But I'm confused: did a random guy with a knife who stabbed her represent Death, or did, like, the Grim Reaper some and savage her? Also, maybe a bit too heavy on the adjectives. try replacing some with adverbs, as well as the actual verbs. I had that problem too, and its not that hard to fix as long as you're ready to make a few sacrifices. You can get a little overzealous with getting a picture across to the reader. It only confuses them. But that's easy to fix. I altogether liked this, writing style-wise!

Ok, very...dark. I like the concept (especially love how it's a ginger, as ginger have no soul. ahahaha). Some things I would recommend however: break this up into paragraphs, its a little hard to read lie this, not to mention I'm super ADD (ooohhh all the words). So here's a suggestion to break it up.

Death, a man who gives those of my kind a refuge, waits just around the corner to plunge his black knife into my tattered soul and wrench it out of my lacerated body. He breaks my thin barriers of indecision on life or death and extracts my insides with one long and painful tear from my heart to the pit of my stomach. I revel in the pain of dying excruciatingly slow as the dark abyss that one may call my soul pours out of me like crimson blood from a deep wound. I writhe on the dirty street as the life drains out of me.

My skin turns a ghostly pale then diminishes into grey as the last of my blood drips on the asphalt I lay on. My lips, cold like frost on a winter night, turn blue as I exhale my last breath. The clothes I wear are torn by Death’s blade and splattered with blood much like that of the color of my hair.

My soul, now captured by Death, floats above my destroyed and vacuous body observing and waiting to see if anyone cares to notice the dead girl tainting the road they drive on. Yet no humans come. Instead, crows black like velvet arrive to devour what is left of my body. They sink their pointed beaks into my flesh and tear me apart piece by piece.

The mangy rats climb out of the sewers to dig their greasy little paws into the gashes created by the crows and take their part in the festivities. A rat lifts its head out of the wounds of my body and with a face smothered in blood and beady black eyes it stares at my soul above watching the gory scene below. It then goes back to feast on my meaty flesh.

Gradually storm clouds start to gather and the sky darkens. Rain patters on the street and the dirty rats scurry away and the dark crows flee as well. It starts to become a heavy down pour and thunder rumbles in the distance like a hungry stomach. Flashes of bright lightning like a camera taking pictures strike the grey sky with a ferocious power. The blood from the carnage washes away down the drains and my body slowly follows. My soul, finally content, descends into the underworld known as Hell where it will reside until the end of time.

So there it is. I'd also say that while details are great, don't overload. My mind is like "Woah, there's alot going on!" So maybe take some of it out. Take some detail out, and this would be great to read. A little gory, but the concept and plot sounds good.

Keep writing!