TheMonotonePuppet
A Puppet Colored by Medication
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2023
- Messages
- 2,839
- Points
- 153
Task 1: With no connection to the stories you are currently writing (I won't know whether it is connected, so really, you can just copy and paste it if you really want to show off a death scene you're proud of), write the most in-depth death scene you can in first-person POV (so essentially, the POV of the person doing the dying). Really make it feel like you are in the moment. Otherwise, they can die by any means you want, with whatever characters you want.
Task 2: Give compliments and constructive criticisms to people doing Task 1.
I did mine in the spoiler. Edit: It shows as a blur to me, so hopefully it works as a spoiler that you guys can choose whether to see or not.
[
She stabs the sword forward, a deeply worried expression written on her face.
Ack! Is something coming up behind me?
“Huh?!” I exclaim in shock. I sound so embarrassingly dumb, I could blush! Granted, I don’t want to get eaten!
A corner of my mouth pulls to the side of my cheek in confusion as my brows knit harshly together. With raised eyebrows, I turn to glance behind myself.
She sinks her sword straight into the exposed side of my neck.
I gasp, releasing air explosively. Drops of red are flung from my lips like red paint flicked from an artist’s messy hands.
*spatter*
My mouth opens, then closes, and then opens again in shock. A puddle of blood wets the back of my throat.
I raise my chin as if it could help me escape from the studiously cleaned blade, a tight sensation in my chest building in my chest.
I can’t draw breath.
It burns.
I try again. But I failed again. I swallow painfully, trying to wet my cotton-dry mouth.
The sensation is building in intensity. Will my chest split apart?
Blood rushes to my cheeks as I start to panic. My eyes widen and I look down at the massive blade that failed to decapitate me fully.
Small comforts.
It’s just a massive expanse of metal embedded in my body, seeming to take up my entire horizon of vision with its silvered material coated in oozing fluid.
I look in her eyes, just befuddled. I try to ask why, but no breath makes it out past the solid steel, nor even in past the metal.
Clack goes my teeth as I try to speak futilely.
She stares back with undisguised horror, frozen at the sight of a child impaled on her weapon.
With small, desperate movements, I lift my arms up jerkily.
I grip the razor-sharp edges of the sword with feeble, tiny arms. My hands just slide along the edges, slicing deep into my palms. My thumbs start to separate from my large, inhuman hands.
I shake my head, tears flooding down my open mouth, only succeeding in forcing the blade even deeper.
I desperately try to breathe, working my mouth to try to force breath into my lungs. All I do is uselessly flail, my hands sliding back and forth even more, cutting my own sinew, veins, and tendons.
My eyes dull.
I stop fighting.
"Wait... You didn’t care?” I mouth, befuddled right up until the end.
]
Task 2: Give compliments and constructive criticisms to people doing Task 1.
I did mine in the spoiler. Edit: It shows as a blur to me, so hopefully it works as a spoiler that you guys can choose whether to see or not.
[
She stabs the sword forward, a deeply worried expression written on her face.
Ack! Is something coming up behind me?
“Huh?!” I exclaim in shock. I sound so embarrassingly dumb, I could blush! Granted, I don’t want to get eaten!
A corner of my mouth pulls to the side of my cheek in confusion as my brows knit harshly together. With raised eyebrows, I turn to glance behind myself.
She sinks her sword straight into the exposed side of my neck.
I gasp, releasing air explosively. Drops of red are flung from my lips like red paint flicked from an artist’s messy hands.
*spatter*
My mouth opens, then closes, and then opens again in shock. A puddle of blood wets the back of my throat.
I raise my chin as if it could help me escape from the studiously cleaned blade, a tight sensation in my chest building in my chest.
I can’t draw breath.
It burns.
I try again. But I failed again. I swallow painfully, trying to wet my cotton-dry mouth.
The sensation is building in intensity. Will my chest split apart?
Blood rushes to my cheeks as I start to panic. My eyes widen and I look down at the massive blade that failed to decapitate me fully.
Small comforts.
It’s just a massive expanse of metal embedded in my body, seeming to take up my entire horizon of vision with its silvered material coated in oozing fluid.
I look in her eyes, just befuddled. I try to ask why, but no breath makes it out past the solid steel, nor even in past the metal.
Clack goes my teeth as I try to speak futilely.
She stares back with undisguised horror, frozen at the sight of a child impaled on her weapon.
With small, desperate movements, I lift my arms up jerkily.
I grip the razor-sharp edges of the sword with feeble, tiny arms. My hands just slide along the edges, slicing deep into my palms. My thumbs start to separate from my large, inhuman hands.
I shake my head, tears flooding down my open mouth, only succeeding in forcing the blade even deeper.
I desperately try to breathe, working my mouth to try to force breath into my lungs. All I do is uselessly flail, my hands sliding back and forth even more, cutting my own sinew, veins, and tendons.
My eyes dull.
I stop fighting.
"Wait... You didn’t care?” I mouth, befuddled right up until the end.
]
Last edited:
