DeathMetalFTW

Hey everyone. I'm new here, this being my very first post. I need advice on weather this is an ok story or not. I haven't written anything in a couple years, and I think my writer's block is fading. As a warning, I must say that this story is going to be disgusting. It's also going to be unusual and quite absurd. Also, because I had to hurry toward the end, there may be a few minor errors. Still, I'd love some feedback.




It was one of those truly dreadful days, being of the drab, almost morbid variety. I scuttled morosely and with great despondency to that most horrid of institutions, Benjamin Norris High School. The freezing rain that stabbed my flesh was overshadowed ten, one hundred, I say a thousand times by the frozen abaddon that blighted me upon view of that terrible spire! As an eastern fog encroached about the top of the thing, my soul sank to a depth so low that not even my usual emotional masochism could spare me any of this pain of pains. So phallic it was, that wretched spire- One could hardly fathom how it subjected me to it’s most insufferable woes at but a glance- how to gaze upon it was to be challenged and tormented, and how to approach it was to submit.

Onward I drudged, with flaccid resolve into this ghastly place. It was so monotone, devoid of even the meekest vestiges of the human spirit, so frighteningly lifeless in it’s craft. It was in bitter retrospect not unlike it’s most tormented denizen (yours truly), as my fragile soul had long since wilted beneath the weight of this oppressive monolith of brick and misery, and I had been reshaped from a young man into the image of my loathsome, colorless captor. As I walked into this hopeless place, an old woman of that most androgynous and baron of character did shriek the most horrid of shrieks as if some unknown gas had been reverberating within the empty husk of a human being.

“No hats!”, she did cry with a tone probably unheard since the morning criers of plague ridden Europe. “Take off your haaaaat!”

This stirred in me some primal and terrible thing that I must confess had been fermenting within my heart for quite some time. I grabbed that dismal creature by the bosom, and thrust her into the little room directly behind her. Clogging the door shut with a folding chair, I turned around to see my quarry, squirming helpless on the hard floor. Her writhing was so surreal- from here on in, the whole incident took on a mystical quality that scarcely allows description. Her agonized writhing haunted me. Though in no way did it evoke in me a sense of pity or mercy, it all appeared as some sort of lucid dream. Suppressing the oddity of the situation, I did the sensible thing, pinning down and disrobing this screaming hag.

“Squawking vermin!”, I screamed. “I will take you now!”

Her response was, in my humble opinion, loud and incoherent enough to warrant consent. Still, her torso twitched and struggled, her teeth sank into my flesh, and her overall body language revealed some subtle discontent for my boisterous prose. No matter, I thought. This is how it’s supposed to happen, just like this.

Only now did I realize the frenzy and panic outside this little room. There were curtains on the window for privacy, and that door did not budge. And indeed I was on the first floor, but this room had no windows. I was quite confident that I would have all the time I needed. The hag’s radio, lying on the floor beside her, made the most terrible, raspy, electric static noises. I threw it a few feet away, so it would not interfere with my pleasure. Finally, amid all this fuss and struggling, I finally reduced her to wearing no clothing at all.

What I saw was hardly a woman. Her body was at once extremely frail and terribly bloated, with warts of all kinds, rancid odor, and the worst kind of bodily hair, seeming to grow out of varicose veins. From ancient pores flowed arcane pastes, semi-liquid aberrations unknown to the young and the well of health, who’s origins would require an admirable feat of comprehension to understand, as well as the blackest leap of faith. With great valor, I mounted her- removing my trousers and grabbing her triangular breasts as I penetrated her. Irony, I thought, that this woman’s anus would be more capable of the task at hand than her crusty and somewhat vestigial vagina.

I indeed rejoiced in this, my finest hour in quite some time. My fevered thrusting- the musicality of her moans- My virility had at last returned! I had overcome this terrible place and unleashed the raging animal within. The tight resistance of her bashful rectum, how it did challenge me to go on! Great sport in this there was, but inevitably I did retreat my shaft, coated in a mix of stringy brown mush and blood. I had much more to do. Reaching for my trousers, I retrieved a small, old sheet of sandpaper from my pocket and did get to work on that large, salty cow of a clitoris.


Rubbing and rubbing away, I heard her in the throws of such a passion one cannot describe! Blood did again flow about her womanhood, and those bulging eyes did look to the heavens in screaming gratitude. This great hag did once more discover her youth and her femininity, but such pleasures I am sad to say can be quite a strain on an old woman, especially one not used to such potent coitus. Rather than embracing her newfound lust, she chose to be sexually repressed and feel guilty, resulting in her death. Odd, I thought. It seemed so thoroughly fitting. I stood up, naked and refreshed. Removing the chair barricade from the door, I stepped outside and noticed a noxious miasma settling about the halls.

This was a tear gas bombardment! It was so hard to breathe, but some sixth sense took control of me, guiding me down the hallway. I knew, I just knew- They had called the bomb squad and the marines. How they would work so ruthlessly and efficiently in godless tandem! I found a dark closet, tucked my knees to my chest and hid there. How awful it was to hear them, those hulking terrors with their automatic weapons and their hearts full of hate! Finally, one of those awful men opened the door and witnessed me, twitching naked and frightened. From that fearsome, vacant eyed gas mask, he looked into my eyes- I say, he looked into my eyes, your honor. And he knew it- He knew that he had hurt me!

AQUITED!!!

perilperilperil

Sounds like you got a little adjective-happy on this one. I realize that the overdramatic verbosity was supposed to be funny, (it was, right?) but it's still overkill. And many of the sentences are grammatically incorrect, under all that mixiness.

The main reason I can't enjoy this story is I can't figure out WHY anything is happening. I can see you're gunning for shock factor with the rape scene, and it's definitely disgusting. But why does he do it? Since the main character's personality and motivations haven't been explored very deeply, all that needless depravity just reflects poorly on you, the writer. I think if you took the story more slowly and let the narrator develop a really disturbing internal monologue, it might make the the insanity behind his actions more clear. But I feel like no matter how well it was written or explained, there's really nothing that would justify such a detailed rape/mutilation. It's just in bad taste, in my opinion.

And why was the school gassed? Wouldn't the cops just come and tear down the door? I don't know, but that part just felt odd. I don't think I understand what you're trying to say in the last few lines. And how was he acquitted? (<--- correct spelling) The evidence of his guilt would be all over the room where he raped that woman.

I feel like I was overly negative in this critique, but I think this story has a long way to go. A good first step would be to clarify the main character's motivations and work it seriously into the story. It can still be darkly funny -- look at A Clockwork Orange. But it has to be clever as well as horrible, for the horribleness to be meaningful.

Zorell

[quote=perilperilperil;1094939]
"The main reason I can't enjoy this story is I can't figure out WHY anything is happening."

I have to say that I agree with perilperilperil about this. I think I would read it if it was, say, bonus material to another story; but as it stands, I'm not quite sure I would pick it up off the shelf, or stop to read it in a magazine.

Also, I think you need to make use of some of the site's disclaimers about content, it felt a lot like walking into a pg movie and ending up with nc-17.

It does have some potential, with extreme editing, though.

SevenWritez

Are you a teenager? You throw out ostentatious words one after the other, with seemingly no other purpose than to show off your verbosity. I'm only asking of your age range in that teenagers are often the writers who fall prey to this.

You may think it sounds good, but it is hard digest and comes off as both annoying and pretentious. Cut this, then gut it, then smack yourself, then wade in the dark oceans of depression, and once you've settled for awhile, get back to writing. Oh, and avoid the big words unless they are absolutely neccessary.

Which in this case, they weren't.

DeathMetalFTW

I guess my artistic heroism will go unloved.

SevenWritez

If you give up that easily, sure. Keep writing, develop a thick skin, and come back ready to kick ass and take names.

Zorell

What he said!

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Industrial

Overdoing it. Can't stand it, seems like your trying so hard to make it something it's not.

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RinK

Hehe, I agree with you here. I am a teenager, and I went through a phase where I had a huge problem with this. I am slowly coming out of it, but it's a tough transition.

DeathMetal, it sounds like you can do the hard part of writing. You go overboard, and this is better than not being able to get up there at all (because it's easier to come down than to climb up). My suggestion is this...try writing a story where you use your own voice, the one that you use when you speak (only, maybe, without the slang and the grammar mistakes - hehe). This will level it out and you'll be closer to where you want to be. Really, don't give up yet - see how it goes. I've found I enjoy my writing much more when I chizzle it up, rather than adding a bunch of fluff. It sounds like you're capable of writing, so give it a try.

Try to think about what you would want to read, rather than the overwhelming vocabulary you see in the classics in your literature class. You're not at that level yet, so don't try to be. Just be yourself. You just might create something that people your age and younger will want to read.

Also, I agree with what everyone says about the reasoning. It's fine if your story is gruesome, but all people have a history and a reason for what they do. Who do you know that would just randomly rape an old lady? If they're insane, maybe, but we should have a clearer understanding of his condition, I think.

Good luck. Don't give up yet! We're all walking this rough path together...

DeathMetalFTW

IM REVIVING THIS

DeathMetalFTW

edropus

It's been read and commented on. If you're not gonna rewrite it, write something new. Any further comments will probably just get you more of the same.

zshadowfire

This seemed forced to me. Figuratively and actively. edropus and many of the others have good feedback for you on this that I concur with. My question is: What is your focus? Have you any goals?

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