Originally Posted by Crazy_dude6662

Evil Child





The gentle humming wafted through the door, harsh sunlight streamed through the open window, leaving only a silhouette of the mother and her child, gently rocking back and forth.

apart from this, i have no problem with this opening paragraph.

Though Jacob was only three months old Janice knew something wasn’t right. He didn't cry like other baby’s, he whimpered or screamed.
When this happened the lights always flickered, casting strange and horrifying shadows on the wall.

very nice!

Strange thoughts invaded her mind and dreams. Terrifying dreams where she is burning, surrounded by millions of demons, each one scrambling to sample her delicate flesh. She always awoke, covered in sweat, but there were always scratches from where the demons clawed at her.

hundreds makes it easier for me to see. i would lose 'but' and enlarge upon this slightly.

The first, and last, time Jacob cried was when he was a week old. The lights flickered and the microwave stopped. No longer working Janice had to boil his milk. She dared not breast feed him after he nearly bit her nipple off. This also seemed strange. She had never heard of a baby sprouting teeth so quickly.

missing a comma and it feels contrived in order to avoid starting the sentence with 'Janice' i would cut this sentence.

Every time she prepared the milk, a strange urge came over her, each time she would take a knife and cut her finger tip, letting blood drop into the milk. One. Two. Three. Drops, no more, no less.

lose this, we already know things are not normal. no need to flag it anymore.

She started to hear strange thoughts, strange, violent thoughts that were not her own, but yet, they still floated through her mind with a strange ethereal clarity. She could see herself committing vile and sickening deeds, but surely she couldn’t have such a capacity for evil, surely these thoughts did not come from the deep, dark depths of her mind.

things don't have to start. they just happen. lose this. sort of contradict each other. lose this.

She remembered the night she had conceived Jacob, a night of pain and degradation. A man had burst into her apartment, then raped her. He had nearly killed her before the police had arrived. Her throat was bruised and tender for days. She couldn’t bear the thought of this life growing insider her, but nor could she bear the thought of abortion. So she kept the child conceived with hatred and uncontrolled lust.

She realised what must be done.

She stood over him, looking down with eyes clouded by hatred and fear. Jacob started to cry as Janice’s hand clasped over his mouth and nose.

She sat down in the rocking chair, Jacobs’s body cradled in her arms. She started to hum a lullaby, which drifted through the window on a summer’s breeze.

this isn't really a story. i like the overall voice of this piece, but i would say this is more a practice than a real attempt at a story. good effort though i would agree with the critique so far: it ends too quickly, but i would add that there isn't enough flesh either.









-CD

Originally Posted by Crazy_dude6662

woo some replies

thanks

(especially for the indepth one )

Originally Posted by Azmakna

how can you be this excited? you have posted 6000 and more times here... lol