tommydarascal
kickbox
Here is an exract I wrote when I was bored ... please criticise all you like and tell me what you think. Thanks!
By the yellow candlelight she saw the head distinctly, hovering in mid air above her. At least, it seemed to be hovering, attached to a frail, almost non-existent body that quite accurately resembled a twig. Blood flooded the body’s blemished skin, and her crinkles almost seemed to crack. It’s gloomy eyes narrowed to snake-slits, her fists clenching awkwardly, her knuckles transforming into a sinister, raw white. “Mummy?” the little girl wheezed, “Mummy you are in heaven Daddy said so, mummy…” The girl snapped her eyelids shut, squeezing them tightly. The woman’s faded brown hair seemed to fall out in tangles with rage, her lips clamped colourlessly. She emitted a pure, menacing glow that seemed perfectly lethal. She loomed over her daughter, black rushing in and stealing the yellow of the candlelight, abandoning the poor child and thrusting her into a threatening, fatal darkness.
“Mummy, no! You aren’t HERE!” The ghoul’s hand swept down savagely and walloped the infant solidly across the face, a distinct CRACK echoing down the dismal, absent corridors.
Then, it’s form changed.
Suddenly, a whirring commotion like a tempest filled the area, wind and forks of incandescent lightning thrashing and stabbing in all directions, smashing the roof mercilessly and creating a shower of stone and rubble. Solid, fatal debris was hurled everywhere frantically, browns and greys hammering the place murderously … and in the chaos the little girl’s screams were drowned out and flawlessly inaudible. Rain thundered through the wrecked ceiling, freezing. Through these blue spears, this thing – this poltergeist – was vaguely visible. It was clear and savage, and impossible for any remaining sanity to comprehend.
The girl screamed and flailed.
A dark, grey gas, quite similar to a menacing cloud, drifted toward the small, whimpering girl teasingly.
You aren’t my mother … you killed my mother …
Rain pierced the gas and was contained, seeming to make it darker and more sinister. The distance between it and the girl was closing – slowly, ever so slowly – and the girl, frozen, could do nothing but wheeze, shaking.
The thing hovered over her once more.
This was it.
By the yellow candlelight she saw the head distinctly, hovering in mid air above her. At least, it seemed to be hovering, attached to a frail, almost non-existent body that quite accurately resembled a twig. Blood flooded the body’s blemished skin, and her crinkles almost seemed to crack. It’s gloomy eyes narrowed to snake-slits, her fists clenching awkwardly, her knuckles transforming into a sinister, raw white. “Mummy?” the little girl wheezed, “Mummy you are in heaven Daddy said so, mummy…” The girl snapped her eyelids shut, squeezing them tightly. The woman’s faded brown hair seemed to fall out in tangles with rage, her lips clamped colourlessly. She emitted a pure, menacing glow that seemed perfectly lethal. She loomed over her daughter, black rushing in and stealing the yellow of the candlelight, abandoning the poor child and thrusting her into a threatening, fatal darkness.
“Mummy, no! You aren’t HERE!” The ghoul’s hand swept down savagely and walloped the infant solidly across the face, a distinct CRACK echoing down the dismal, absent corridors.
Then, it’s form changed.
Suddenly, a whirring commotion like a tempest filled the area, wind and forks of incandescent lightning thrashing and stabbing in all directions, smashing the roof mercilessly and creating a shower of stone and rubble. Solid, fatal debris was hurled everywhere frantically, browns and greys hammering the place murderously … and in the chaos the little girl’s screams were drowned out and flawlessly inaudible. Rain thundered through the wrecked ceiling, freezing. Through these blue spears, this thing – this poltergeist – was vaguely visible. It was clear and savage, and impossible for any remaining sanity to comprehend.
The girl screamed and flailed.
A dark, grey gas, quite similar to a menacing cloud, drifted toward the small, whimpering girl teasingly.
You aren’t my mother … you killed my mother …
Rain pierced the gas and was contained, seeming to make it darker and more sinister. The distance between it and the girl was closing – slowly, ever so slowly – and the girl, frozen, could do nothing but wheeze, shaking.
The thing hovered over her once more.
This was it.