The "Creative Writing" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
If you thought everything would be ok tomorrow then your wrong you could wake up dead,zombies could be roaming the streets,your eyeballs could have fallen out,you could have someone elses arm,anything could happen.
As I woke It was still dark outside but nearly dusk. I walked downstairs and opened the fridge a smell of rotting came out it smelt like there was bodies in the fridge. Rotten,green,moldy milk was lying down in the fridge dripping out the bottle. I pulled it out and went and threw it in the bin outside. There was a hole in my fence. I saw someone run past they looked scared. I walked back inside someone ran into my garden and tried to get in my house. I grabbed my bat and opened the door. "What do you want" I thundered. "Please just let me in theres mad people out here chasing everyones gone crazy please let me" I asked. I let him in and locked the back door loads of people came running into my garden. They all stared banging at the windows they were at the front too they were so crazed. I ran up stairs and got dress no time for anything. I grabbed my gun,my metal any weapon I could find I handed a gun to the man and a wooden bat. We ran out the front door people filled the road. It was almost Dusk the sun was rising bit by bit but very slowy. I smashed a person round the head me and the man ran to my car and drove off smashing into people as we left the splated to the ground. I put my foot on it and smashed into another person a old lady she flew though the air and landed on the ground. We skided round corners seeing crazed people fly past the window
One jumped at my door he was pulling the handle a women jumped at the back. I started reversing the car and smashed it into a wall then the women fell off. I drove the side along a wall I saw the mans be scarped off he dropped to the floor and blood poured from him. I stopped the car time to kill I jumped out the car the man jumped out to. "What your name then" I asked him. "Oh my names Micheal Nixon" he answered."Nice to meet you Mike is it ok if I call you Mike" I asked. "Yeah course" he answered. As we walked futher I heard someone running behind me I span round. It was a crazed person I shot him in the head brains splated to the floor. It was almost Dusk the street lights still shone down on us I looked up a street light flicked above us. I ran for it down the road Mike followed we turned a corner the crazed stood there. I flipped over and flew though the air me and Mike stared shooting bullets went though heads,crazed dropped to the floor I stood in the middle of it as bullets flew past me Mike had nearly killed all of them I shot my final bullet and now all the crazed were dead. The Police ran past us and killed crazed behind us I ran up a wall on the top of a building Mike followed. Crazed were even on the top of the building. But then I saw Mike get ripped off the top of the building I tried to grab hold of him. But they ripped out his stomach I saw my life flash past in a pour of blood and guts. I ran it was almost Dusk I wanted to get home by Dusk maybe this was a dream I pinched myself no not a dream.
I jumped off the roof I was ten minutes away from my house I ran so fast. I jumped roofs and saw crazed below being smashed in by Police heads crushing brains brusting. I jumped again but slipped a crazed was standing behind me I tryed to get up but my legs wouldn't move for some reason. I was so scared I shot back but only hit him in the leg. I shot again and hit him in the chest. I went to shoot again but my gun just clicked I was out of bullets. The crazed grabbed hold of me my eyeballs were ripped out he ripped my arm off. It was Dusk the time I wanted to be home I was having my eyeballs ripped out and my arm ripped off. No my crying for me and No more shooting my gun to I was dead and It was Dusk!
As I woke It was still dark outside but nearly dusk. I walked downstairs and opened the fridge a smell of rotting came out it smelt like there was bodies in the fridge. Rotten,green,moldy milk was lying down in the fridge dripping out the bottle. I pulled it out and went and threw it in the bin outside. There was a hole in my fence. I saw someone run past they looked scared. I walked back inside someone ran into my garden and tried to get in my house. I grabbed my bat and opened the door. "What do you want" I thundered. "Please just let me in theres mad people out here chasing everyones gone crazy please let me" I asked. I let him in and locked the back door loads of people came running into my garden. They all stared banging at the windows they were at the front too they were so crazed. I ran up stairs and got dress no time for anything. I grabbed my gun,my metal any weapon I could find I handed a gun to the man and a wooden bat. We ran out the front door people filled the road. It was almost Dusk the sun was rising bit by bit but very slowy. I smashed a person round the head me and the man ran to my car and drove off smashing into people as we left the splated to the ground. I put my foot on it and smashed into another person a old lady she flew though the air and landed on the ground. We skided round corners seeing crazed people fly past the window
One jumped at my door he was pulling the handle a women jumped at the back. I started reversing the car and smashed it into a wall then the women fell off. I drove the side along a wall I saw the mans be scarped off he dropped to the floor and blood poured from him. I stopped the car time to kill I jumped out the car the man jumped out to. "What your name then" I asked him. "Oh my names Micheal Nixon" he answered."Nice to meet you Mike is it ok if I call you Mike" I asked. "Yeah course" he answered. As we walked futher I heard someone running behind me I span round. It was a crazed person I shot him in the head brains splated to the floor. It was almost Dusk the street lights still shone down on us I looked up a street light flicked above us. I ran for it down the road Mike followed we turned a corner the crazed stood there. I flipped over and flew though the air me and Mike stared shooting bullets went though heads,crazed dropped to the floor I stood in the middle of it as bullets flew past me Mike had nearly killed all of them I shot my final bullet and now all the crazed were dead. The Police ran past us and killed crazed behind us I ran up a wall on the top of a building Mike followed. Crazed were even on the top of the building. But then I saw Mike get ripped off the top of the building I tried to grab hold of him. But they ripped out his stomach I saw my life flash past in a pour of blood and guts. I ran it was almost Dusk I wanted to get home by Dusk maybe this was a dream I pinched myself no not a dream.
I jumped off the roof I was ten minutes away from my house I ran so fast. I jumped roofs and saw crazed below being smashed in by Police heads crushing brains brusting. I jumped again but slipped a crazed was standing behind me I tryed to get up but my legs wouldn't move for some reason. I was so scared I shot back but only hit him in the leg. I shot again and hit him in the chest. I went to shoot again but my gun just clicked I was out of bullets. The crazed grabbed hold of me my eyeballs were ripped out he ripped my arm off. It was Dusk the time I wanted to be home I was having my eyeballs ripped out and my arm ripped off. No my crying for me and No more shooting my gun to I was dead and It was Dusk!
Page:
Alright then why you bored?
crossbob wrote:
> Rickoss wrote:
> But he won't ever be as good as Ashman and FFF. No offense, but
> they're two fantastic writers.
>
> They're bloody excellent!
sorry, bored.
> Rickoss wrote:
> But he won't ever be as good as Ashman and FFF. No offense, but
> they're two fantastic writers.
>
> They're bloody excellent!
sorry, bored.
This story hasn't been written, it's been vomitted onto the screen. It's a mess of bad grammar and poorly constructed senses. Commas seem to have been dropped in at random, making it difficult to read.
Continuing the vomit analogy, if you'd have taken the chunks and carefully organised them with a consistent soup around it, and perhaps have saved some kind of carrot until the end, it could have been a contender.
My favourite bit was asking Michael Nixon if he could call him 'Mike'. Realistic dialogue...
Continuing the vomit analogy, if you'd have taken the chunks and carefully organised them with a consistent soup around it, and perhaps have saved some kind of carrot until the end, it could have been a contender.
My favourite bit was asking Michael Nixon if he could call him 'Mike'. Realistic dialogue...
Hm sounds a bit to much like resident evil for me. I based my one on my area.
Thank you very much!
I'm envious of that first paragraph!
Classic.
I'll say one thing - it's entertaining.
Classic.
I'll say one thing - it's entertaining.
Rickoss wrote:
> But he won't ever be as good as Ashman and FFF. No offense, but
> they're two fantastic writers.
Their bloody excellent!
> But he won't ever be as good as Ashman and FFF. No offense, but
> they're two fantastic writers.
Their bloody excellent!
arctic hobo wrote:
> Stuff (several times)
The sarcasm in your initial post was obvious for all to see and everyone didn't reply in the same vein because of this but because it is their own opinion. Stating that "This was clearly because most of you replied in a similar vein" is a little presumptious of you (and it should have been 'clear' not 'clearly' :) ).
As to being utterly blind to our own faults during our attempts at short stories - eh? What a load of tosh. A way to develop is through posting on here and getting feedback. More often than not the writer will question the content of their own story and will look for feedback both negative and positive. If negative they do not throw their teddy out of the cot and refuse to write ever again but try to take what has been said into consideration - with only one exception (maybe two).
Instead of making a sweeping statement in here to criticise (sp) post your true feelings in the threads of the stories you find fault with.
As you can plainly see Crossbob is not at all bothered about the stick he gets on here otherwise he would be long gone. By the same token he pays absolutely no heed to anyone who has given him hints on how to improve his stories but is quite happy to continue in the same vein as always. Yes, there is room for improvement which hopefully will develop with age, but everyone reads his stories knowing exactly what the content will be. The attention he receives on here is second to none and, strangely enough, I really do not see him minding that at all.
Dear God! This is nearly as long as some of my short stories and I'm no longer even sure why I bothered to reply. Saying that, seeing as I actually bothered to reply, it is being posted.
> Stuff (several times)
The sarcasm in your initial post was obvious for all to see and everyone didn't reply in the same vein because of this but because it is their own opinion. Stating that "This was clearly because most of you replied in a similar vein" is a little presumptious of you (and it should have been 'clear' not 'clearly' :) ).
As to being utterly blind to our own faults during our attempts at short stories - eh? What a load of tosh. A way to develop is through posting on here and getting feedback. More often than not the writer will question the content of their own story and will look for feedback both negative and positive. If negative they do not throw their teddy out of the cot and refuse to write ever again but try to take what has been said into consideration - with only one exception (maybe two).
Instead of making a sweeping statement in here to criticise (sp) post your true feelings in the threads of the stories you find fault with.
As you can plainly see Crossbob is not at all bothered about the stick he gets on here otherwise he would be long gone. By the same token he pays absolutely no heed to anyone who has given him hints on how to improve his stories but is quite happy to continue in the same vein as always. Yes, there is room for improvement which hopefully will develop with age, but everyone reads his stories knowing exactly what the content will be. The attention he receives on here is second to none and, strangely enough, I really do not see him minding that at all.
Dear God! This is nearly as long as some of my short stories and I'm no longer even sure why I bothered to reply. Saying that, seeing as I actually bothered to reply, it is being posted.
arctic hobo wrote:
> Just to clear this up, I replied to this story with biting sarcasm,
> which completely failed to evoke a negative response from you lot (in
> some cases you thought I was serious).
> This was clearly because most of you replied in a similar vein. I
> then got angry at you lot because you're all happy to take the mickey
> out of Crossbob, when none of you see that your own writing is
> equally terrible in another person's eyes. In much the same way we
> might find a Ghanan laughing at an Ethiopian because he's got no food
> quite ridiculous.
oh, that clears it all up.
I never thought that was sarcasm (becasue of your opening sentence). So, yes, I was misleaed into thinking that you were one of the niggest fools round here. Sorry! ;-)
> Just to clear this up, I replied to this story with biting sarcasm,
> which completely failed to evoke a negative response from you lot (in
> some cases you thought I was serious).
> This was clearly because most of you replied in a similar vein. I
> then got angry at you lot because you're all happy to take the mickey
> out of Crossbob, when none of you see that your own writing is
> equally terrible in another person's eyes. In much the same way we
> might find a Ghanan laughing at an Ethiopian because he's got no food
> quite ridiculous.
oh, that clears it all up.
I never thought that was sarcasm (becasue of your opening sentence). So, yes, I was misleaed into thinking that you were one of the niggest fools round here. Sorry! ;-)
I guess I've been a bit of a stupid pryck then. I should probably offer to buy everyone an e-beer...
Page: