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This is a story I originally posted in the the Thunderdome. The response was less than impressive. My prose was called purple at points and the climax was underwhelming, and for good reason; it was. Well, I took that feedback and tried to make it less poo poo. I'm attempting to write a bunch of high quality short stories this month. My end-goal is to compile an anthology that I could actually publish. Complete, comprehensive feedback would be lovely, but I'm quite happy with anything I get. Thanks in advance! The harvest moon watched over the fields as the Backers hauled gourds to the barn. Twenty minutes before the harvest. They had twenty measly minutes to gather one-hundred of their best gourds. The word twenty repeated over and over in Mr. Backer’s mind as he and his family continued their labors. Further back in the fields, Mrs. Backer loaded a pumpkin onto the cart with jittering hands. Time seemed to slip by as the moon looked down upon the family. It wasn’t long before they nearly gathered their one-hundred gourd debt. While he carried squash to the barn, the eldest of the Backer children broke the silence. “Do you think this will please him?” asked the son as he set the gourd down. “We can only hope, boy,” said his father. “Who do you think he’ll take if he isn’t?” “Don’t speak of such things, boy.” There was no time to rest as the youngest Backer girl carried the final gourd to the barn. Now the witching hour was upon the Backers, and they needed to work swiftly. The entire Backer clan gathered in the center of the barn. Those children who remained exchanged glances as Mr. Backer led a young calf in from the stables. The knife sat on the table, awaiting its duty. Mr. Backer sighed as the calf looked upon the children. The calf was not at all prepared for when Mr. Backer gripped its neck. The animal thrashed beneath the farmer as the blade approached its throat. A scream echoed through barn as the knife made its way across the calf’s jugular. The calf kicked and bayed, attempting in vain to avoid its fate. Nonetheless, the struggles soon died as blood seeped from its neck. As soon as the calf succumbed to blood loss, Mr. Backer dipped his fingers into the puddle around the animal. With this blood he drew what looked like a circle with a small dot in the center on the floor. Not a soul spoke as the entire family waited, for he would soon arrive. Mr. Backer pivoted his head from left to right, unable to breathe. Then, his heart almost gave as he noticed something. The eldest child was absent. He ruined the entire ceremony! There would be no forgiveness for such a grievance! The unease in the air condensed further, as the family noticed the boy’s truancy, one by one. As the light of the moon waned, an ethereal chill fell over the room, and the smell of autumn rot polluted the barn as he approached from the shadows. He was shaped like an old man, but wore skin as white as the moon and as cold as the tundra. Staring at the family, he grinned with dulled teeth. “Oh! My, my! Haven’t we gotten plump, children?” he asked in cold voice. He continued to approach the children, each step echoing a massive creak. The sound reverberated through the entire family. Soon he fixed his milky gaze on the smallest Backer girl. “Oh, little Alice! Don’t we look cute?” He began to outstretch his thin hands towards the trembling girl. She felt the frozen apparition’s presence suck the warmth from her cheeks. She clinched her eyes shut as she awaited her demise. Then, just before the demon could touch the girl, a giant bang sounded from the corner of the barn. The eldest Backer boy stepped from the shadows, clanging the knife that had killed the calf only moments prior against a wooden support beam. “Boy have you lost your drat mind?!” yelled Mr. Backer. The boy said nothing as he continued to clang the knife against the support beam. Even the demon stopped to look at the boy make an rear end of himself. Then, without any warning, the boy hurled the knife at the demon, who was still standing over Alice. “Think fast!” he said before wheeling away. The creature winced in pain as the knife sunk into his shoulder. He quickly grimaced before furrowing his brow into a wicked snarl. “That boy will pay for such an insult.” The demon sprinted at a rapid pace from the barn, leaving the remaining Backers alone to just stare at the door with bemused expressions. It didn’t take the demon long to catch up with the boy. The creature burled at him with unbridled speed, slashing with intent to kill. Soon they found themselves face to face. The boy danced around the demon as the white claws swiped at his abdomen. The forefinger struck his belly button as the boy missed a beat in the dance. He tried to stifle a scream as cold spread through the wound, freezing his flesh. “You will suffer for your insults, boy,” said the demon as he pulled back for a second jab. “Don’t think it’s over just yet, demon” The creature just smiled as he prepared to gut the child. Before he could deliver his blow, however, the boy did something that took the demon off guard. The boy turned to the soil, and snapped back to the creature to throw a clump of dirt right into the demon’s face. Unprepared for such a tactic, the demon lost his concentration “Somewhat clever, if a tad barbaric, but not enough,” said the demon as he wiped dirt from his eyes. As the demon finished cleaning his face, he noticed the boy to be long gone. The chase had evolved into a deadly game of hide-and-seek. “Well boy, I didn’t take you for the cowardly type, what with how you attacked me earlier! What’s a matter, scared?” The demon came to the Backer’s toolshed, thinking the child had hidden within. When he approached the door, however, a battle cry rang out. The boy charged the demon with a large shovel. With a brutal fury he wacked the creature square in the chest. Winded, the demon took a small step back. Taking advantage of this opportune moment, the boy took a free smack at the demon’s head before speeding off in the opposite direction. “Oh, that little boy’s in trouble,” said the demon to himself. The cat and mouse game continued. The boy had taken refuge in a tree, shovel clasped in his clammy hands. He knew full well that the demon was on the prowl, ready to rip his guts out should he be awarded the chance. Enough adrenaline pumped through his veins to knock out a horse, and his senses were in hyper-mode. The Harvest Demon continued to scope the perimeter of the woods. He thought about actually entering them, but he wanted to make sure the boy hadn’t tricked him into thinking that he entered the woods while he hid somewhere else. “Perhaps I should check the barn, that would give me a chance to eat something,” the demon thought to himself. Before he could make it back to the barn, however, the sun had made its appearance over the hillside. As the light pervaded the scene, the demon felt his skin blister in agony. The Harvest Demon, for so long an inflictor of torment, was now being tormented. The creature tried to shield himself from the harsh rays as the light caused his white skin to crackle and discolor. The demonic was still smoldering as he finally scurried into the vacated barn. The Backers never saw the creature after that. ZeBourgeoisie fucked around with this message at 04:15 on Nov 5, 2014 |
# ¿ Nov 5, 2014 01:43 |
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# ¿ May 17, 2024 13:47 |
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supermikhail posted:When I began reading I thought I wouldn't find any serious flaws with this story, and the beginning is strong like that. I especially "appreciated" the scene with the slaughter of the calf because I have participated in something like that, and have an emotional scar to show for it. Thank you! I'll get right on to fixing all that up. I didn't even notice all those simple grammar mistakes. Seriously appreciate it.
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# ¿ Nov 10, 2014 22:30 |