This astounding piece floored me; do you suppose the blue fellow's found his wife, Susan, yet?
Why don't more people write about body farms?
They seem rife for horror, but for the life of me, I can't remember reading a scary piece that includes them.
Your creative use of opposing text colors to distinguish the nameless speakers is laudable.
On that subject, the realistic way you wrote the characters without revealing more than necessary was
awe-inspiring.
And that subtle way you revealed the plot twist in one line was masterful(which I won't spoil).
My favorite line, "Uh huh. Sooo...you're growing bodies?", showcases not just the blue fellow's confused shock, but also the dark comedy of the piece.
This single line also slightly reminded me of the satirical horror b-movie, Motel Hell(1980), where the farmer buries his victims up to their necks in soil, snips their vocal cords, and fattens them up to make sausages from their remains(thankfully nothing like that's happening on the red fellow's farm!).
All in all, a fantastic story with flawless spelling and grammar, which flows so well it feels eerily familiar as if we the readers are eavesdropping on these two colored fellows conversation.
You've unraveled a common thread that oft goes unexplored.
With each carefully selected word, the reader reflects on their life and wonders not only of a past they can't change but a future they could help make brighter.
Those last two lines are my favorite as the determination of inner strength is something I'm never too sure of; one can measure their external strength, but how do you measure what lies deep within?
Although maybe you're not speaking of if one can lift the hypothetical rock of positivity but how many attempts we take at trying; how many times do we bend and struggle before we quit?
Do the determined not outlast the strong?
I adore this flawlessly written, thought-provoking piece; life moves faster nowadays, and we can't outrace our worries, but we can stop, think, and resolve what woes we can.
Your tender sensuality vaults into the reader's heart with the intensity of an eagle diving for salmon.
The only niggle I may have is the possible misspelling of "cata-cornered", I've only ever seen it spelled as "cater-cornered" although, after a small amount of research, I think it can be spelled either way, as well as the surprising spellings of "caddy-cornered", "catty-cornered", and "kitty-cornered".
My favorite line is "Religious baptisms of wild passions splurge from the rippled waters."
Congratulations on crafting a marvelous poem.
I can't wait to read more of your work in the future.
I love revenge stories and this tale of a madman's vengeance is awesome.
You've presented Darien's hallucinations in a frightfully realistic way.
His transition from a bullied psychotic to a demented, blood-craving murderer was chilling.
I did find a few little typos though.
Those being:-
In your title, you wrote Pychosis instead of Psychosis.
You've also written feedle position instead of fetal position, Creeppy instead of Creepy, and finally his body laid limo instead of his body laid limp.
Other than those tiny niggles, I had an absolute blast reading this.
From your fan and friend-o,
Laurie Razor
P.S. Congratulations on the well deserved weekly SCREAMS!! win.
The concept that our entire world may exist inside a child's plaything is a scary enough thought, but to then think that our protagonist may have just upended her entire universe by an act as simple as shoveling snow is much scarier.
You have captured the moment perfectly without wasting our time and I applaud you for it.
At points it's stilted, in perfect spots, enough to capture the reader's attention and get them to read on the next few flowing lines before another road block.
Like cars bottle-necking on a highway, ogling at a family on the roadside, the father kicking his tires in frustration, each driver speculating as to the why before driving on and experiencing something similar down the road.
The way that you have humanised the alien in the artwork to a place where the reader can more easily relate is fascinating.
That cascading end to the third and fifth paragraph really expose our protagonist's unending agony.
You would have made Giger proud.
Congratulations on writing a great piece.
From your fan and friend-o,
Laurie Razor
P.S. How did you do that nifty rollover trick that defines "stygian"?
I thoroughly enjoyed your short tale of turkey terror.
You have exhibited a very show don't tell approach which helps the reader visualise what is happening.
I have found two small structural issues however.
You've missed a quotation mark. he said to his wife Allison, I'd like a smoked turkey for Thanksgiving this year." to he said to his wife Allison, "I'd like a smoked turkey for Thanksgiving this year."
You've missed a comma. She said “that sounds like a good change. We haven’t done that in a long time”. to She said, “that sounds like a good change. We haven’t done that in a long time”.
Other than those two small mistakes, you have written a gobbledy-great horror story.
This slightly confronting piece feels like a dredged up story once lived, but soon forgotten by time.
I have a few minor suggestions which you may consider, those being:
Where you've written "Everyday his mind-" should become "Every day his mind-"; "Everyday" is defined as "typical" or "ordinary", whereas "every day" means "each day".
The line "The depths of the void blackness in his eyes appeared to be endless." seems a little confusing.
My last little niggle is your use of the cliche phrase "hustle and bustle".
The band-aid is removed, now onto the good stuff.
I like the gritty raw, intensity of this piece; you never once shy away from the emotional impact of the husband's violent acts against the protagonist.
Your unique phrasing such as "green wonders" is fantastic and should be utilised more often.
What you've achieved here in so few words is simply marvelous.
My favourite line here is "Some didn't care and wanted to go suck on rainbows", I picture psychic vampires feasting on joy, depriving us of all pleasure and happiness.
The way that you can make the user visualise exactly what is on the page is awe-inspiring.
I did find a small typo however, "ceasless" should be "ceaseless".
This small niggle aside, I thoroughly enjoyed this remarkably entertaining piece and can't wait to read more of your work in the future.
I can completely understand how this piece won the Weird Tales contest, it is entertaining in the most engrossingly, diabolical way.
Congratulations.
From your newest fan and friendo,
Laurie Razor
PS For some reason I am reminded of that Sartre quote that we all learn in high school, "Hell is other people", which I guess is kind of true for poor Dr. Richter.
You open strong, then keep us hooked right up until the last line.
I really believe that you should finish this piece as it is both vastly intriguing and well written.
Once fleshed out more as to who Carla is, why she is in that apartment and why she is so nervous around this police officer, this story could be something special.
Your poem reminds me of a wonderful song that I have never heard.
I feel that this could use some grammatical marks at the end of your lines.
That small niggle aside however, I feel that you have captured the blues that you felt at not being able to succeed and expressed them near perfectly here.
Feel good in knowing that you have succeeded in writing a marvellous piece.
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