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Blood Colored Daffodils pt1 (1200 words)

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Old 06-18-2010, 01:07 PM
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Default Blood Colored Daffodils pt1 (1200 words)


*This is a horror story I wrote, and I felt like breaking it up into two parts for you. Tell me what you think.*


I gripped the letter tightly in my hand, reviewing his words carefully in my head.

Simon,
I found her, I found Jane, she’s here in the apartment with me. Come as soon as soon as you can.
Max

The entire building was old, older then me or my father. The lights flickered, the stairs creaked, the paint was chipped, no matter where you went inside, signs of its age were there to greet you. Even the red paint on the wooden door in front of me was fading away.

My hand hovered over the head of the door in a fist. The thought of confronting my brother in his madness was horrifying. How do I explain to him that the woman he loved is dead? I took one last breath, breathing in the stale air around me, and I swung my fist back, prepared to announce my arrival.

Before my bony knuckles could touch the rough wooden surface, a sound from down the hall interrupted me, the sound of a metal clank. A knocked over tin can rolled a short ways away from a black cat. Its fur was pitch black, like the night sky without any stars. It had piercing yellow eyes, the kind you would expect on a vicious beast. For a moment we locked eyes, I looked at it with puzzlement, something about it seemed familiar. Then it dashed off across the hallway, out of sight.

For some reason I was now paranoid. I could have sworn I saw a smile on that cat, but I shook the thought off. Turning towards the door, I knocked on it prepared for the worst. I waited for a moment, trying to hear the sound of footsteps. All I heard were faint mumbles, none of which I could make out. After they stopped, I spoke up and tried to talk to him directly.

“Max! It’s me, Simon! Listen, I got your letter…”

Before I could finish, I heard a loud bang erupt from behind the door. I was startled, taking a step back, but soon I was bathed in a fear which I never knew before, it was drowning me. I rushed at the knob, twisting it as fast as I could, rushing in to the dusty room to see the gruesome sight of my dead brother.

He sat in an old red chair, in front of a TV, its lights flashed across his dead body and its static feverishly sang a horrifically awful song. Blood was all over him, it painted his blue shirt a disgusting red. His head was leaning to the left, blood dripping from the side, a crazed smile on his face. I rushed at him, asking if he was alright, praying for a response. When none came, I ran towards the nearest phone and called an ambulance, knowing deep down it was too late.


I brushed the tip of my fingers sympathetically across the chair, still in disbelief about what had transpired here. I was glad the police agreed to let me come in here, even after they closed it off. The blood was still clearly visible in the carpeted floor, staying a crimson reminder of the truth. The chair was already red, and the blood seemed to blend in perfectly. They were but drops in an even greater sea of red.

I looked around the small disgustingly red apartment, disbelief showing in my face. It seemed impossible for my brother or anyone at all to live here. Dust was everywhere, on the furniture, on the pictures, in the air. The only two places where there was no sign of dust were the chair and the TV in front of it.

It was claustrophobic in here, the red walls seemed to close in on me like a sinister deathtrap. Their intertwining floral pattern reminded me of thorn covered vines, wrapping around me, choking me. This room felt vastly different from the calming blues and dimly lit shadows in the hallways outside.

I peeked into the kitchen; the sink was filled with dirty dishes, probably never touched in weeks. The more I looked around the tougher it was to imagine my brother living here. He was always a neat freak. His obsessive need for cleanliness and order contrasted my slobbish and carefree nature.

Easily the worst room I saw was the bathroom. The tiles were coated in grime, the toilet was covered in brown smudges, even the water carried a disgusting rusted orange from the pipes. The first time I peered into it, I almost puked.

At this point, the only room I hadn’t seen was the bed room. The door leading into it was locked. This apartment was the only clue I had leading to my brothers final thoughts, and so far what I have seen led me to believe he was not well. I already figured he was ill when I first read his letter, but I never thought he would have left everything in such disarray.

I did have some hope though, hope that maybe there was some shred of sanity in my brother. The door leading to the bedroom was painted a pure white; its smooth and even color suggested it was recently repainted. Its pristine condition stood out against the dirt and grime surrounding it.

I looked around for a key, but I couldn’t find anything, only finding more dirt and dust. Determination drove me forward; I was going to get in that room no matter what, even if I had to break the door down. That room was the last sanctuary of my brother, the personification of what was left of his eroding sanity.

When all the obvious places turned up nothing, I started to get creative. I checked in the silverware drawer, but only found rusty utensils. In the sink were dishes with all sorts of mold on them, I dug through the disgusting ill colored plates, until I got to the bottom of the sink, no key. I checked under each piece of furniture, only to find some monstrously huge dust bunnies. My determination was still strong, but my hope had starting to falter. Then I saw something black whip by from behind the TV.

The television was old and wooden, with a dial to change the channel. Despite its age, it was in pristine condition like the door, there wasn’t even a smudge on its screen. I tried to peek behind the TV at an angle, but I couldn’t see anything but shadows. I came close to dismissing the sight as a figment of paranoia and stress, but I saw a corner of tape sticking out from behind the TV. I put my hand on the spot feeling around its cool metal backside, until I could make out the odd bumps and shape of a key. Gripping the best I could, I ripped it out from the back of the television.

The key that I’ve been looking for was in great condition like the door it unlocked. There was no rust, no smudge, no indication that this key has ever aged at all. Small little unexplainable details like that didn’t matter though, at least that’s what I told myself. I went up to the ghostly white door, and stared at it, trying peer through and into the room behind it. With excitement, curiosity, and hope guiding my hand, I slid the key into the small hole beneath the knob. I could hear the locks disengage, and I watched with wide eyes as the door drifted open, revealing my brother's last sanctuary.

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  #2  
Old 06-19-2010, 07:51 AM
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Originally Posted by Treez77 View Post

I gripped the letter tightly in my hand, reviewing his words carefully in my head.

Simon,
I found her, I found Jane, sheís here in the apartment with me. Come as soon as soon as you can.
Max

The entire building was old, older then me or my father. The lights flickered, the stairs creaked, the paint was chipped, no matter where you went inside, signs of its age were there to greet you.
A good description of the setting here. But a full stop needs to replace the comma after "the paint was chipped".


Even the red paint on the wooden door in front of me was fading away.
Even the red paint? What's special about the red paint. Anything? I get the impression that this wooden door - or the red paint - is strong or something... or immune to fading. Perhaps this could be clarified?


My hand hovered over the head of the door in a fist.
The word "fist" at the end gets me a little confused. "THe head of the door in a fist". Was the door knob a fist shape? I'm assuming that his hand was balled into a fist, so maybe you could mention that in at the beginning of the sentence.

The thought of confronting my brother in his madness was horrifying. How do I explain to him that the woman he loved is dead? I took one last breath, breathing in the stale air around me,
I think, "I took one last breath of the stale air" would work better here. (Word economy.)


and I swung my fist back, prepared to announce my arrival.

Before my bony knuckles
All knuckles are bony, so perhaps you should eliminate this adjective.


could touch the rough wooden surface, a sound from down the hall interrupted me, the sound of a metal clank.
This seems to be filled with too much commas I think. It takes away from the effect. "The sound of a metal clank" could probably have a sentence of its own for further effect.

A knocked over A tin can rolled a short ways away from a black cat. Its fur was pitch black, like the night sky without any stars. It had piercing yellow eyes, the kind you would expect on a vicious beast. We locked eyes. I looked at it with puzzlement. Something about it seemed familiar. Then it dashed off across the hallway, out of sight.
I made some corrections (in blue) and removed some words that don't need to be there (in red)

Just remember to use commas properly; the second part of the sentence must be related to the first part.

For some reason I was now paranoid. I could have sworn I saw a smile on that cat, but I shook the thought off.

The protagonist says, "For some reason I was now paranoid". And then he says "I could have sworn I saw a smile". So he knows why he is paranoid... meaning there is no need for the first sentence.

You could also remove the words "shook" and "off", so that you could simply say "I dismissed the thought."

Turning towards the door, I knocked on it prepared for the worst. I waited for a moment, trying to hear the sound of footsteps. All I heard were faint mumbles, none of which I could make out. After they stopped, I spoke up and tried to talk to him directly.

ďMax! Itís me, Simon! Listen, I got your letterÖĒ

Before I could finish, I heard a loud bang erupt from behind the door.
My first impression is that you had an "I" here when you don't need one, and that there are quite a few below as well. Instead of saying "I heard" - which is slightly boring - you could say "A loud bang erupted from behind the door"

"I walked" "I knocked" "I heard" etc... they're all boring. Try starting sentences a different way.

I was startled, taking a step back, but soon I was bathed in a fear which I never knew before,
[/QUOTE]

This should be:

"I was bathed in a fear in which i had never known before"

Also eliminate this comma and replace it with a full stop.

it was drowning me. I rushed at the knob, twisting it as fast as I could, rushing in to the dusty room to see the gruesome sight of my dead brother.
I'm not exactly sure what's wrong, but I'm not feeling any effects here. You're separate everything with commas, and not varying your sentence lengths. It all reads a little boring. Let's see. Perhaps you could say:

Startled, I took a step back. A fear in which I had never known before washes over me. Drowns me. I rushed at the knob, twisting it as fast as I could. Rushing into the room, I halted in shock, staring down to see the gruesome sight of my dead brother.

You may not like this, but that's probably similar to how I would write it. I tried to keep it similar to your style, though. In my opinion it reads better and is slightly more effective.



He sat in an old red chair, in front of a TV, its lights flashed across his dead body and its static feverishly sang a horrifically awful song.
Perhaps make this a bit livelier? How about:

"His body lay slumped in an old chair, the colour of his blood in which drenched his features".

It's not great, but you can see that I've portrayed the fact that he was in a chair, the chair was red, and that he was covered in blood... all in much less words.

Blood was all over him, it painted his blue shirt a disgusting red. His head was leaning to the left, blood dripping from the side, a crazed smile on his face. I rushed at him, asking if he was alright, praying for a response. When none came, I ran towards the nearest phone and called an ambulance, knowing deep down it was too late.
I brushed the tip of my fingers sympathetically across the chair, still in disbelief about what had transpired here.
If his brother is stained with blood, then I'm guessing the chair will be too. What does the character feel when he touches his brother's blood? What emotions? Is the blood cold? Warm? Sticky?

I was glad the police agreed to let me come in here, even after they closed it off. The blood was still clearly visible on the carpeted floor, staying a crimson reminder of the truth. The chair was already red, and the blood seemed to blend in perfectly. They were but drops in an even greater sea of red.
These two paragraphs start with "I". Sometimes it's hard to avoid this, but try varying what you start your paragraphs with. I aim to have a different start for every paragraph that I write. You can't have a different start all the time, but it's good to try nonetheless.


I looked around the small, disgustingly red apartment, disbelief showing in my face.
How does he know disbelief is showing in his face? Maybe he's feeling disbelief. But can he see his face?

It seemed impossible for my brother or anyone at all to live here. Dust was everywhere, on the furniture, on the pictures, in the air. The only two places where there was no sign of dust were the chair and the TV in front of it.

It was claustrophobic in here. The red walls seemed to close in on me like a sinister deathtrap. Their intertwining floral pattern reminded me of thorn covered vines, wrapping around me, choking me. This room felt vastly different from the calming blues and dimly lit shadows in the hallways outside.
The descriptions are good here, apart from the last one... which struck me as a little odd. Shadows are black. Dark. How can shadows be dimly lit? If a shadow was lit up... well... it wouldn't be a shadow anymore. Apart from that, I like this section.

I peeked
You could say:

"Peeking into the kitchen, .... "

into the kitchen; the sink was filled with dirty dishes, probably never touched in weeks. The more I looked around the tougher it was to imagine my brother living here. He was always a neat freak. His obsessive need for cleanliness and order contrasted my slobbish and carefree nature.

Easily the worst room I saw was the bathroom. The tiles were coated in grime, the toilet was covered in brown smudges, even the water carried a disgusting rusted orange from the pipes. The first time I peered into it, I almost puked.

At this point, the only room I hadnít seen was the bedroom.
(bedroom is one word)

The door leading into it was locked. This apartment was the only clue I had leading to my brothers final thoughts, and so far what I have seen led me to believe he was not well. I already figured he was ill when I first read his letter, but I never thought he would have left everything in such disarray.
Good paragraph.

I did have some hope though. Hope that maybe there was some shred of sanity in my brother. The door leading to the bedroom was painted a pure white; its smooth and even color suggested it was recently repainted. Its pristine condition stood out against the dirt and grime surrounding it.

I looked around for a key, but I couldnít find anything, only finding more dirt and dust. Determination drove me forward; I was going to get in that room no matter what, even if I had to break the door down. That room was the last sanctuary of my brother, the personification of what was left of his eroding sanity.

When all the obvious places turned up nothing, I started to get creative. I checked in the silverware drawer, but only found rusty utensils. In the sink were dishes with all sorts of mold on them. I dug through the disgusting ill colored plates, until I got to the bottom of the sink, no key. I checked under each piece of furniture, only to find some monstrously huge dust bunnies. My determination was still strong, but my hope had starting to falter. Then I saw something black whip by from behind the TV.

The television was old and wooden, with a dial to change the channel. Despite its age, it was in pristine condition like the door. There wasnít even a smudge on its screen. I tried to peek behind the TV at an angle, but I couldnít see anything but shadows. I came close to dismissing the sight as a figment of paranoia and stress, but I saw a corner of tape sticking out from behind the TV. I put my hand on the spot, feeling around its cool metal backside, until I could make out the odd bumps and shape of a key. Gripping the best I could, I ripped it out from the back of the television.

The key that Iíve been looking for was in great condition like the door it unlocked. There was no rust, no smudge, no indication that this key has ever aged at all. Small little unexplainable details like that didnít matter though. At least thatís what I told myself. I went up to the ghostly white door, and stared at it, trying to peer through and into the room behind it. With excitement, curiosity, and hope guiding my hand, I slid the key into the small hole beneath the knob. I could hear the locks disengage, and I watched with wide eyes as the door drifted open, revealing my brother's last sanctuary.[/QUOTE]


Overall I quite enjoyed this. I think you used too many commas; perhaps you could vary your parenthesis a little bit. A lot of sentences started with "I" or "The", which makes it feel quite boring. An interesting storyline you have here, though. (I want to find out what all this is about.)

Another aspect I thought it lacked was the variation of sentence length. I added in a few shorter sentences (by removing some unnecessary commas.) Reading the same length of sentence over and over again is repetitive and boring, so add a bit of variety for us to enjoy.

Thanks for sharing this with us. I might have time to read part 2 and critique it as well.
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Old 06-19-2010, 07:51 AM
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Originally Posted by That_Writer_Boy View Post
A good description of the setting here. But a full stop needs to replace the comma after "the paint was chipped".




Even the red paint? What's special about the red paint. Anything? I get the impression that this wooden door - or the red paint - is strong or something... or immune to fading. Perhaps this could be clarified?




The word "fist" at the end gets me a little confused. "THe head of the door in a fist". Was the door knob a fist shape? I'm assuming that his hand was balled into a fist, so maybe you could mention that in at the beginning of the sentence.



I think, "I took one last breath of the stale air" would work better here. (Word economy.)




All knuckles are bony, so perhaps you should eliminate this adjective.




This seems to be filled with too much commas I think. It takes away from the effect. "The sound of a metal clank" could probably have a sentence of its own for further effect.



I made some corrections (in blue) and removed some words that don't need to be there (in red)

Just remember to use commas properly; the second part of the sentence must be related to the first part.




The protagonist says, "For some reason I was now paranoid". And then he says "I could have sworn I saw a smile". So he knows why he is paranoid... meaning there is no need for the first sentence.

You could also remove the words "shook" and "off", so that you could simply say "I dismissed the thought."



My first impression is that you had an "I" here when you don't need one, and that there are quite a few below as well. Instead of saying "I heard" - which is slightly boring - you could say "A loud bang erupted from behind the door"

"I walked" "I knocked" "I heard" etc... they're all boring. Try starting sentences a different way.

I was startled, taking a step back, but soon I was bathed in a fear which I never knew before,
This should be:

"I was bathed in a fear in which i had never known before"

Also eliminate this comma and replace it with a full stop.



I'm not exactly sure what's wrong, but I'm not feeling any effects here. You're separate everything with commas, and not varying your sentence lengths. It all reads a little boring. Let's see. Perhaps you could say:

Startled, I took a step back. A fear in which I had never known before washes over me. Drowns me. I rushed at the knob, twisting it as fast as I could. Rushing into the room, I halted in shock, staring down to see the gruesome sight of my dead brother.

You may not like this, but that's probably similar to how I would write it. I tried to keep it similar to your style, though. In my opinion it reads better and is slightly more effective.





Perhaps make this a bit livelier? How about:

"His body lay slumped in an old chair, the colour of his blood in which drenched his features".

It's not great, but you can see that I've portrayed the fact that he was in a chair, the chair was red, and that he was covered in blood... all in much less words.





If his brother is stained with blood, then I'm guessing the chair will be too. What does the character feel when he touches his brother's blood? What emotions? Is the blood cold? Warm? Sticky?



These two paragraphs start with "I". Sometimes it's hard to avoid this, but try varying what you start your paragraphs with. I aim to have a different start for every paragraph that I write. You can't have a different start all the time, but it's good to try nonetheless.




How does he know disbelief is showing in his face? Maybe he's feeling disbelief. But can he see his face?



The descriptions are good here, apart from the last one... which struck me as a little odd. Shadows are black. Dark. How can shadows be dimly lit? If a shadow was lit up... well... it wouldn't be a shadow anymore. Apart from that, I like this section.



You could say:

"Peeking into the kitchen, .... "



(bedroom is one word)



Good paragraph.


When all the obvious places turned up nothing, I started to get creative. I checked in the silverware drawer, but only found rusty utensils. In the sink were dishes with all sorts of mold on them. I dug through the disgusting ill colored plates, until I got to the bottom of the sink, no key. I checked under each piece of furniture, only to find some monstrously huge dust bunnies. My determination was still strong, but my hope had starting to falter. Then I saw something black whip by from behind the TV.

The television was old and wooden, with a dial to change the channel. Despite its age, it was in pristine condition like the door. There wasnít even a smudge on its screen. I tried to peek behind the TV at an angle, but I couldnít see anything but shadows. I came close to dismissing the sight as a figment of paranoia and stress, but I saw a corner of tape sticking out from behind the TV. I put my hand on the spot, feeling around its cool metal backside, until I could make out the odd bumps and shape of a key. Gripping the best I could, I ripped it out from the back of the television.

The key that Iíve been looking for was in great condition like the door it unlocked. There was no rust, no smudge, no indication that this key has ever aged at all. Small little unexplainable details like that didnít matter though. At least thatís what I told myself. I went up to the ghostly white door, and stared at it, trying to peer through and into the room behind it. With excitement, curiosity, and hope guiding my hand, I slid the key into the small hole beneath the knob. I could hear the locks disengage, and I watched with wide eyes as the door drifted open, revealing my brother's last sanctuary.

Overall I quite enjoyed this. I think you used too many commas; perhaps you could vary your parenthesis a little bit. A lot of sentences started with "I" or "The", which makes it feel quite boring. An interesting storyline you have here, though. (I want to find out what all this is about.)

Another aspect I thought it lacked was the variation of sentence length. I added in a few shorter sentences (by removing some unnecessary commas.) Reading the same length of sentence over and over again is repetitive and boring, so add a bit of variety for us to enjoy.

Thanks for sharing this with us. I might have time to read part 2 and critique it as well.[/QUOTE]
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Old 06-19-2010, 08:58 AM
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A good description of the setting here. But a full stop needs to replace the comma after "the paint was chipped".
Actually, it should be an em dash
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Old 06-19-2010, 10:18 AM
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Well, it could be either lol
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Old 06-19-2010, 10:50 AM
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Well, yeah--but to be correct with a period there, the list of descriptions needs to have an "and" before "the paint was chipped." Otherwise, the three parts are all comma spliced. The em dash would allow for that and give it the ability to easily tie into the next sentence.
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Old 06-19-2010, 01:35 PM
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I agree with the above - work on sentencing! Break things up a little more to make it an easier read, and it will greatly enhance the story. I am interested to know what he finds..
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Old 06-19-2010, 03:51 PM
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Thanks, truth to tell I never really knew my use of commas were hurting my writing =/

Something I need to keep in mind, unfortunately now its become a bad habit XD
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Old 06-20-2010, 12:52 AM
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nice one..i enjoyed this
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