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This was done in half an hour, rushed as hell sorry but I made myself do one.
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The people in this town make me sick. None of them value life, what all of their mothers have given them. I loved my mother for what she gave me, but she was too pure for heaven so I had to make her equal. Funnelled her, filtered her. Killed her, Raped her. She couldn’t go into Heaven like herself; she might’ve been better than God. The Townspeople. The way they glide through life like they’ve been here before. As if they will be given another chance in this life or the next. And that’s where I come in. I’ve kinda made it my duty to make sure they do not get another chance. I balance the equation. This life is the ultimate and I am willing to show them this. They should be grateful. The people are not ready to accept the purity of the green grass and blue sky.
So be it.
Consumed by darkened death, their future shall lie.
You might be thinking why don't I feel guilty. It’s ok. Don’t worry. I know how the rigid virginity of this world, forever swaying, will always be the sanctuary of this life. The highpoint of existence. No-one will accept that. So they must accept death by my judging hand. I take them to the old mill, and sacrifice them for the good of God.
I am the judger, cometh to thee for ye shall judge
Like last week in the woods. I was passing through, having a walk on my own. And then something happened. The clouds parted. My mother stopped speaking in my irksome mind. I smelt God and his destructive anger. I smelt his tears and the emotions in the droplets. I continued to walk and I seen two of them. Probably school kids. Luckily for them I had my trusty judging axe. Regrets? No. I was doing God’s work. My mother was whispering into my soul; “Do it son, do it now”. Before she got mad, I made a move.
The two kids were…doing things…. Things I didn’t approve of. Standing in each others arms. I crept up, blacky-blue justice neutralising the pain in my heart.
I took a swing. I felt his spine diagonally rip apart in the middle. His nerves made a ping noise. I smiled, he was in a better place thanks to me.
The girl screamed. I had blood on my clothes. But that had to wait for now. The axe was impaled into his back. She was running away. There was no time. I jumped on her, the girl. All the anger, all then, that time I hated God. I felt her throat explode. And she spat the puss in my face. Yum. She soon stopped gasping and pleading for her mum to help her and went away, so far away.
My work was done here. I was smiling, bloodily. I took them to the old mill. To sacrifice them. The boy was evil. The girl despite being a promiscuous stain on God’s holy land, was still too pure.
I had to take it upon myself to…bless her with my…thing. She had to be unholyer to see God. She was dead, so I spared no expense in impregnating her with alive goodness of my own thick sweet smelling brew.
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The people in this town make me sick. None of them value life, what all of their mothers have given them. I loved my mother for what she gave me, but she was too pure for heaven so I had to make her equal. Funnelled her, filtered her. Killed her, Raped her. She couldn’t go into Heaven like herself; she might’ve been better than God. The Townspeople. The way they glide through life like they’ve been here before. As if they will be given another chance in this life or the next. And that’s where I come in. I’ve kinda made it my duty to make sure they do not get another chance. I balance the equation. This life is the ultimate and I am willing to show them this. They should be grateful. The people are not ready to accept the purity of the green grass and blue sky.
So be it.
Consumed by darkened death, their future shall lie.
You might be thinking why don't I feel guilty. It’s ok. Don’t worry. I know how the rigid virginity of this world, forever swaying, will always be the sanctuary of this life. The highpoint of existence. No-one will accept that. So they must accept death by my judging hand. I take them to the old mill, and sacrifice them for the good of God.
I am the judger, cometh to thee for ye shall judge
Like last week in the woods. I was passing through, having a walk on my own. And then something happened. The clouds parted. My mother stopped speaking in my irksome mind. I smelt God and his destructive anger. I smelt his tears and the emotions in the droplets. I continued to walk and I seen two of them. Probably school kids. Luckily for them I had my trusty judging axe. Regrets? No. I was doing God’s work. My mother was whispering into my soul; “Do it son, do it now”. Before she got mad, I made a move.
The two kids were…doing things…. Things I didn’t approve of. Standing in each others arms. I crept up, blacky-blue justice neutralising the pain in my heart.
I took a swing. I felt his spine diagonally rip apart in the middle. His nerves made a ping noise. I smiled, he was in a better place thanks to me.
The girl screamed. I had blood on my clothes. But that had to wait for now. The axe was impaled into his back. She was running away. There was no time. I jumped on her, the girl. All the anger, all then, that time I hated God. I felt her throat explode. And she spat the puss in my face. Yum. She soon stopped gasping and pleading for her mum to help her and went away, so far away.
My work was done here. I was smiling, bloodily. I took them to the old mill. To sacrifice them. The boy was evil. The girl despite being a promiscuous stain on God’s holy land, was still too pure.
I had to take it upon myself to…bless her with my…thing. She had to be unholyer to see God. She was dead, so I spared no expense in impregnating her with alive goodness of my own thick sweet smelling brew.
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It's a strong first line, but at first I stumbled upon the 'what' in the second. I soon realised this was the voice of the character though, so it didn't matter. However. I felt that this voice was not always consistant, as you sometimes slipped out of it.
Also, I felt at times that you were trying too hard to shock, and it ended up being a little clichéd. Now I see that you wrote it in just 30 minutes, (I only took the story itself to read in each case) I guess this could be a reason why.
Also, I felt at times that you were trying too hard to shock, and it ended up being a little clichéd. Now I see that you wrote it in just 30 minutes, (I only took the story itself to read in each case) I guess this could be a reason why.
Like I said it was done in about half an hour, and a pretty damn good attempt considering..
Ju§t Tinkª wrote:
> And she spat the puss in my face. Yum.
Yum, indeed.
On a more serious note I really liked that, allthough it was a bit short. If you had more time I guess you would have made it more descriptive and included maybe another tale of sickness, or perhaps more gruesome details about your mother and her death.
> And she spat the puss in my face. Yum.
Yum, indeed.
On a more serious note I really liked that, allthough it was a bit short. If you had more time I guess you would have made it more descriptive and included maybe another tale of sickness, or perhaps more gruesome details about your mother and her death.
Apologies.
Stupid title?!
1 entry found for judger.
judger
\Judg"er\, n. One who judges
Sniff
Damn, I was on holiday, didn't get time to create my entry. Darnit.
Lil Bro wrote:
> Not the greatest of starts to a promising story was that somewhat
> stupid title
Well if you read the story and realised it depicted the life of a psychopath.......
> when is the close date?
Yesterday
> Not the greatest of starts to a promising story was that somewhat
> stupid title
Well if you read the story and realised it depicted the life of a psychopath.......
> when is the close date?
Yesterday
Not the greatest of starts to a promising story was that somewhat stupid title. But yeh, as I said 'promising', when is the close date?
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> (but I'm winning, you understand)
Meh. It wasn't really about winning for me, but to make a sub-conscious statement to those who think they're better than me.
> (but I'm winning, you understand)
Meh. It wasn't really about winning for me, but to make a sub-conscious statement to those who think they're better than me.
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