It's a series of stuff I write when I'm pissed/whatever emotions are applied in them. Easy to tell, I suppose. I have a lot of these...wrote like one or two of these earlier...
I have no idea what to call them. I just label them as DDD on my documents which means "Death, Darkness, and Despair." Ignore the numbers. They're merely for my reference. O_O
I major in writing, but recently, I think I lost a shit of load of my sentence structuring skills...I don't know why.
Sorry, felt like throwing these out...bwahaha, embrace that darkness, if you realize what I mean.
(18) - > (27) And I looked into those eyes; those yet so familiar eyes, but it seemed not his anymore, but of someone that has lost his very own soul; controlled by the evil of the world. For it was not sorrow that filled my heart, but pain. Pain for all those suffered under his hands; pain that touched me with everything I did. And yet I looked. Hot, hot hatred it was; red eyes that burned into my very own soul. But I could not look away. It was hope that still dawned upon my heart; that small light in the realm of the darkness. Through silence that I pleaded; silently and desperately. That there may still live on the pure of the world; thrown over by the cruelties that existed. That there may be love and hope residing; emotions that we caressed and held on to till the time of our deaths. That there may be friendship; the dark pain that reminded me of those good times. And I looked into those eyes. “It is the matter of your consequences that you dare venture forth?” But yet my words were nothing but echoes upon the wind; for I knew at that moment that I had lost. Lost I was, for it was darkness my friend threw me in; the darkness that lasted forever.
(4) Pain. It was all I felt these days, that everlasting feeling of pain. Indeed it was Death I neared; Death that drew me in. My vision I saw no more, and hope I no longer sensed. Pain. Sorrow I felt for the day that marked my doom, and agony for those times I have been through. What point was there in living further? But pain. Pain that would become my best friend till the last moment of life; pain that was my soul. And that sword. That sword I held to my neck, its edges as silver as gold. And more pain. Yes, pain, as the world faded away. Pain at the sufferings of my friends…pain as everything became black. Darkness.
(18) - > (234) I laughed insanely, the blade I held dripping ever so slowly with blood. Crimson, bright, red blood it was, the puddle it was making by my feet. He stared up at me, his eyes tight with pain, his hands shaking with agony. Smiling, I let the blade drop again; directly through the heart. Blood spattered the air and he screamed, grabbing at the knife. I restrained him and pulled the blade out, licking off the blood with pleasure. He was breathing hard, choking on his blood. “Can’t die?” I grinned, raising the weapon once again. “No more…” he pleaded. “No more—“ Cackling, I plunged the knife into his leg, drawing it down slowly, making a deep cut. He screamed again, clawing at the air. I released the weapon and lifted his head with my hand, smiling maniacally at his pained expression. “I won’t let you die…”
(27) And it was the darkness that foreshadowed upon him, the pain that gripped his heart, and the sorrow that overcame him. Why must it be so? The evil that overtook him, the agony that turned his soul. Not love, but hate…Sorrow, but never joy…And he stood in the darkest of days, alone. Alone as one to face the world, alone as one to face the betrayal…For he knew himself no more; nothing he was, a wisp of wind that dilapidated in the air…
(96) - > (10) Of hate and rage it was in his eyes, but I merely sneered, leveling the gun at him. “I believe your life on this place is over.” I pulled the trigger calmly. He was blown back by the force of the bullet, flying into the wall with a sickening crash. “Damn you…” he cursed, standing up with difficulty, blood staining the white of his shirt. “You think you’ve won?” I said softly. He cursed at me again, glancing around rapidly for any items of defense. I shot him again. “Don’t even move,” I said, smiling, as I walked toward him, gun pointed. He lay on a pile of bags, breathing hard, coughing blood. I stopped, holding the barrel by his neck. “Then die, my friend, with no regrets.” He looked up at me with horror as I launched the bullet. The gunshot rang through the room, and with gust, I watched as he slowly tumbled onto the floor, eyes glazed over. Tucking away the gun, I left the place.
(18) Once again those tears fell. Crimson red tears of blood and sorrow; the mixture of his agony. The dark, cold floors of the room; the taunting windows…why must it be so? Over and over again, nothing but torture. Torture of the past, torture of the present. But the consequences of the sins that were committed…death that awaited him…in this deep, dark room. Indeed, the dark, cold floors of the room…the tiles that he lay on… All but darkness before him, hate that was the core of his heart. And pain. Pain it was; daggers that pierced through his soul…the rage he felt. But the room he was trapped in…no way out, no way in…
I actually have a shit load more. O_O I think. *searches documents* Oh yes, and there's my 300k dark fantasy novel. :| Take my wrath.
Well, one of my friends suggested this weird brain vomit thing...O_O Wtf, it didn't help at all...unless I do something, I think my writing skills are pernamently screwed. Shit.
I have no idea what to call them. I just label them as DDD on my documents which means "Death, Darkness, and Despair." Ignore the numbers. They're merely for my reference. O_O I major in writing, but recently, I think I lost a shit of load of my sentence structuring skills...I don't know why.
Sorry, felt like throwing these out...bwahaha, embrace that darkness, if you realize what I mean.
(18) - > (27) And I looked into those eyes; those yet so familiar eyes, but it seemed not his anymore, but of someone that has lost his very own soul; controlled by the evil of the world. For it was not sorrow that filled my heart, but pain. Pain for all those suffered under his hands; pain that touched me with everything I did. And yet I looked. Hot, hot hatred it was; red eyes that burned into my very own soul. But I could not look away. It was hope that still dawned upon my heart; that small light in the realm of the darkness. Through silence that I pleaded; silently and desperately. That there may still live on the pure of the world; thrown over by the cruelties that existed. That there may be love and hope residing; emotions that we caressed and held on to till the time of our deaths. That there may be friendship; the dark pain that reminded me of those good times. And I looked into those eyes. “It is the matter of your consequences that you dare venture forth?” But yet my words were nothing but echoes upon the wind; for I knew at that moment that I had lost. Lost I was, for it was darkness my friend threw me in; the darkness that lasted forever.
(4) Pain. It was all I felt these days, that everlasting feeling of pain. Indeed it was Death I neared; Death that drew me in. My vision I saw no more, and hope I no longer sensed. Pain. Sorrow I felt for the day that marked my doom, and agony for those times I have been through. What point was there in living further? But pain. Pain that would become my best friend till the last moment of life; pain that was my soul. And that sword. That sword I held to my neck, its edges as silver as gold. And more pain. Yes, pain, as the world faded away. Pain at the sufferings of my friends…pain as everything became black. Darkness.
(18) - > (234) I laughed insanely, the blade I held dripping ever so slowly with blood. Crimson, bright, red blood it was, the puddle it was making by my feet. He stared up at me, his eyes tight with pain, his hands shaking with agony. Smiling, I let the blade drop again; directly through the heart. Blood spattered the air and he screamed, grabbing at the knife. I restrained him and pulled the blade out, licking off the blood with pleasure. He was breathing hard, choking on his blood. “Can’t die?” I grinned, raising the weapon once again. “No more…” he pleaded. “No more—“ Cackling, I plunged the knife into his leg, drawing it down slowly, making a deep cut. He screamed again, clawing at the air. I released the weapon and lifted his head with my hand, smiling maniacally at his pained expression. “I won’t let you die…”
(27) And it was the darkness that foreshadowed upon him, the pain that gripped his heart, and the sorrow that overcame him. Why must it be so? The evil that overtook him, the agony that turned his soul. Not love, but hate…Sorrow, but never joy…And he stood in the darkest of days, alone. Alone as one to face the world, alone as one to face the betrayal…For he knew himself no more; nothing he was, a wisp of wind that dilapidated in the air…
(96) - > (10) Of hate and rage it was in his eyes, but I merely sneered, leveling the gun at him. “I believe your life on this place is over.” I pulled the trigger calmly. He was blown back by the force of the bullet, flying into the wall with a sickening crash. “Damn you…” he cursed, standing up with difficulty, blood staining the white of his shirt. “You think you’ve won?” I said softly. He cursed at me again, glancing around rapidly for any items of defense. I shot him again. “Don’t even move,” I said, smiling, as I walked toward him, gun pointed. He lay on a pile of bags, breathing hard, coughing blood. I stopped, holding the barrel by his neck. “Then die, my friend, with no regrets.” He looked up at me with horror as I launched the bullet. The gunshot rang through the room, and with gust, I watched as he slowly tumbled onto the floor, eyes glazed over. Tucking away the gun, I left the place.
(18) Once again those tears fell. Crimson red tears of blood and sorrow; the mixture of his agony. The dark, cold floors of the room; the taunting windows…why must it be so? Over and over again, nothing but torture. Torture of the past, torture of the present. But the consequences of the sins that were committed…death that awaited him…in this deep, dark room. Indeed, the dark, cold floors of the room…the tiles that he lay on… All but darkness before him, hate that was the core of his heart. And pain. Pain it was; daggers that pierced through his soul…the rage he felt. But the room he was trapped in…no way out, no way in…
I actually have a shit load more. O_O I think. *searches documents* Oh yes, and there's my 300k dark fantasy novel. :| Take my wrath.
Well, one of my friends suggested this weird brain vomit thing...O_O Wtf, it didn't help at all...unless I do something, I think my writing skills are pernamently screwed. Shit.
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