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 Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2008 8:10 am
This one i would like to call 'Necrotic Love'
The lonely man stalks the dark haired woman trough the dark streets of Paris... His heart pounded to the beat of her tapping heels against the hard streets of reality..
His breathing fastend when he got closer... His knife shined in the light of the full moon. Then one loud scream filled the empty and dark street of that faithull night in Paris..
40 years Later...
As he sat in his chair just looking at the fire, the lonely man cried and screamed bloody murder.. His arms longed for what he cannot have.. His sweet Violet. He runs trough his empty mansion to that one room where the only thing that matters to him stays...
He hugged the stuffed woman formley know as Violet, a small tear came from his eye as he said: 'Violet Oh Violet how unreachable are thee,, even tho your here, i can still hear the scream of your pain and dispair, Violet Oh Violet, how i miss you so. Alive you are, not not exactly, like the moon so close yet so far away...'
There the old man died, with in his arms, the weapon of his distruction...
His Own Violet
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Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2008 11:55 am
処女
On ly girl s m ay en ter the sac red san ctuar y...
Very good! I like the fact that you used the subject necrophelia.I ahte it when poeple make such things a taboe :/
You should make the story a full work, since I feel that the story can't be properly presented in a short text.
I would also like to know why you used some sentences:
"The hard streets of reality"
"Like the moon so close , yet so far away." (unless the man wanted the moon or something, i don't feel it's in place there)
"The weapon of his destruction" ( I think that you mean, that Violet was the cause that he died, but i wouldn't use the term 'weapon' then)
Asides some spelling mistake, it's a good story :]
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