This stroy is quite horrific, And very discriptive. Here is the prolouge.
Prologue:
The girl awoke, With a sharp pain in her lower waist. She felt slightly lightheaded. She was gaging, felt cold and sick. She looked around, She noticed she was on a snowy mountain top. Gasping for precious air as she had a rope attatched to her entire body, and the rope was tied to a sturdy tree branch, She couldnt move, as she was sustained motionless in the cold, frigid icy air. Some of the bark on the tree was ripped, Someone purposly did it. The girl was breathing hard, as little air could seep through the small opening in the back of her throat. Suddenly, footsteps were heard in the bush about 3 feet away from her. A tall man with a mask covering his face. He was wearing a black coat, almost a tuxedo.He started to walk near her, the girl was motionless, unable to speak. The man held a rope in his hand, The man grinned, as he tugged on the rope. The rope around the girl became tighter. The rope was as tight as a snake slowy wrapping its scaly, Slimy tail around her. The girl began to sway back and forth scraping against the sharp cut bark. How did I get here? She thought. Why was this man the one I loved? How could of I possibly loved him?
The swaying began to stop. The only thing holding her up was the sharp baek, It caused massive pressure on her delicate skin. Once again, the man yanked on the rope. A anthill lay below the tree, The bark busted in her skin, blood trinkled down her legs and back. She was now turning blue. The ants began to crawl onto the bark. She noticed the man holding a knife, She knew she could survive, If only some how she could get the knife and cut herself free.
The ants began to bite. The man laughed, and again tugged on the rope. She became bluer than ever now, Tears began to run down her cheeks, but froze in the cold air. The man was still laughing. The girls vision began to black out, The darkness was soothing to her, It made the pain all go away.
She could barley breathe now, Her body desperatly low on oxygen. The bark sank into her skin even more. Losing blood rapidly. The man pulled the rope One more time, The pain was intese now. The excrutiating pain made her vomit the cold and bloody chunks of organs. Cold and bloddy saliva strips dangled out of her mouth the snow dark red. The tears leaked from her eyes, bloody now. The ants now all on her, crawling into her skull. Once that happened, the vision went out once more. She felt them crawling in her brain.
The man decided to do one more terrible thing to her poor, lost soul. He grabbed a nail, with a paper attatched to it, and walked up to the girl, With his knife he pushed in the nail right through her forehead. Her vision blacked out..
I love to write stories
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. ~Sylvia Plath
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
Really? O: Thats as detailed its gonna get for a while. Is it, too detailed?
I love to write stories
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. ~Sylvia Plath
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
The violence is tasteless. It doesn't enhance the story, it just makes you want to stop reading.
Tasteless?
I love to write stories
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. ~Sylvia Plath
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne