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Volya
10-10-2012, 04:53 PM
He was loved

The stench of diseased meat pervades the very fibre of his maggot-riddled flesh. He writhes with boils and open sores, pus seeping from the cracks in his mottled skin. As he steps towards you, the plants beneath his feet shrivel and die, 'til there is nothing left but the crinkled grey remains of what was once life. A hand reaches out to touch your cheek, but you recoil in disgust. The sight of his ruined beauty brings up bile from your stomach, and you turn and flee from the shaded grove in which you once loved. The man lowers his hand, his scarred face turned to the barren ground he stands upon.

He is Pestilence, and he was once loved.

hillwalker
10-10-2012, 09:14 PM
You have a way with words. Not a very nice way... but effective all the same. Can't wait til this gets really graphic.

H

Volya
10-11-2012, 05:16 PM
Crows

They began slowly hoisting him into the air, until the noose tightened round his throat and began to choke him. The farmer's legs flailed uselessly below him, as he clawed at the rope tied round his neck. He gave one last convulsion, then died. His body hung limply from the tree, slowly moving in the breeze. The men in armour turned to their horses, mounted up, and began trotting away down the beaten path. The corpse was left cast in shadow, as the crows began their feast.

zoolane
10-11-2012, 05:43 PM
Wow graphic is not the word.

hillwalker
10-11-2012, 06:18 PM
I prefer your second piece. But it's merely a snapshot. Where's the rest of the story?

H

Volya
10-12-2012, 03:01 AM
Wow graphic is not the word.

What do you mean by this?

Hill: It is indeed, only a snapshot. I tried writing more to it, but whatever I wrote just didn't feel right. I will try coming back to it when I have time later today.

Thanks for the feedback :)

Volya
10-12-2012, 05:56 PM
Just sign here

'If you would just sign here please ma'am' the officer said, his words breaking through my clouded train of thought. His delicate fingers held the pen out towards me, as the other hand slid the piece of paper across the table. I took the pen from him with my trembling hands, and began to write.

When I finished, he checked to make sure I'd signed the right places, then folded the paper and slid it into his jacket pocket. He motioned to the two men standing by the door, and they came and lifted me from my seat.

They snapped the cuffs onto my wrists, and dragged me away.

zoolane
10-12-2012, 06:11 PM
What do you mean by this?

Hill: It is indeed, only a snapshot. I tried writing more to it, but whatever I wrote just didn't feel right. I will try coming back to it when I have time later today.

Thanks for the feedback :)

It meaning with words you have used, it is graphic with detail words describe the scence.

Volya
10-24-2012, 04:42 PM
Losing Hope

Oh cruel fate.
It harshly wrenches my dreams from my cold lifeless hands, as I lie still on the floor.
And the tears flow freely from my eyes.
Foolish I may have been to aspire so high, yet…
I have no regrets.
As a great man once said ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’

I loved.

I lost.