Twisted
The sun beat relentlessly on their backs, soaking their cloaks and brows. Onwards they pushed through the fields, swinging their scythes, the blades glinting in the early autumn sun. Adam paused and looked down, absorbing the scene. The mutilated corpses, once strong and full of life, lay scattered across the ground around them. Heavily he heaved, his stomach cramping from the smell. Mort looked over to him, scowling. The battle was far from over and the humans continued to waste one another’s blood. As long as they continued, then so would the Soul Cleavers.
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| WOW, graphic, visceral - intense writing - but only a taste, a tease. And the hook is firmly set. If you are brushing off your 'abandoned projects' you are doing the right thing. This is strong writing indeed. |
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Comment by: karjon - 2008-02-17 07:13
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Ah - okay, yes, I like it as a dual piece. Very good, Chris.
Cheers
Karen |
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'Heavily he heaved, his stomach cramping from the smell'. The alliteration works so well with the sense. I did nearly smile at the thought of a Soul Cleaver finding it all a bit much. Only nearly, though. Smashing image, and a clever twist.
Thanks for the read XX |
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I am so glad there was the 'twist', Chris. Really clever. I didn't know what comment to leave on the last one...
Great image - and I love the way Adam is so affected by the humans' self-destruction.
I think you could do with a comma between 'him' and 'scowling'. And you're 5 words short, but you probably know that. |
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| Definitely like this. When I read "Swinging their scythes" I pictured a group of grim reapers walking across a carpet made of the dead. Very cool. |
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