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[Martian]

OK. I'm resurrecting this thread to share my latest story. The question was to write a 600-800 word story describing the setting for a horror story. I used lots of long words trying to get the connotations right for a spooky atmosphere, but I think I may have overdone it.

The Grasping hands

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The moon peeked out through the tortuous and swirling masses of dark and dreary clouds, like a terrified child from under a bed, and looked out upon the blighted landscape. The moonlight lit a scene that should have stayed unlit, hidden in the darkness.

A group of twisting landmasses raised just above the murky water was the main hallmark. They were near achromatic ash-coloured and slimy with things unknown. They were saturated with the water in which they were continuously immersed, and made up of a type of course clay that retained the water to an unhealthy degree. The clay itself was of a kind that facilitated smearing and irreparably tarnished all things it touched with a pallid smear.

And upon these soggy mounds were the dead skeletons of what were once massive trees, caricatures of what was once healthy and sound. Each now desiccated and reaching up out of the ground to claw at an uncaring grey sky with pointed talons. The moonlight shone through the terrific appendages and made grotesque shapes upon the ground. In one of these hideous shapes sat a forlorn bird, croaking harshly at the ruined place its home had become. It was a poignant reminder that once the place had a wholesome past.

The water that lapped at the land rising out of it was grey and dismal, with a frothy scum on top. Moonlight cast an eerie glow upon its surface, in which there were a few strangled plants growing. The rest of the water was entirely choked by poisonous algae which polluted the waters. Among the depths swam a few fish adapted to such conditions. These fish killed the alligators through lack of diet, as they were one of the few species who could live in such conditions. The water stank of death and decay and bubbled abhorrent gasses when disturbed. It is easy enough to imagine the bog mummies, killed thousands of years ago in pagan rites and preserved in the acidic depths, laying deep beneath the eerie water; entombed in the ooze that made up the bottom of the ghostly water.

Then there was the wind. It gusted through the bog, grasping at everything with its icy dead fingers. It made the skeletal trees groan and shake. It made waves in the water and caused the release of the aforementioned foul gasses from it. It howled around rocks and screeched through decaying logs. It blew the dead fish about and seemed to howl with delight at their destruction. It taunted the edges of the marsh with a whiff of goodness from the outside and carried the foul stench from inside far into the country beyond its edges.

In stark contrast to the wind was the moon: from behind the clouds the moonlight spreads its gentle glow through the scene; melancholy over the scene it witnessed. It gently touched at the standing skeletons and sadly stroked the slick ground. It's craggy, faintly luminous, face had witnessed the beauty that this place once was and seemed to be weeping at what it now is. It had risen above the same place thousands of years ago and had seen the brutal violence that had entombed the unfortunate individuals underneath the water. It weeps for them; and for the ancient hands, stained by tannins, that were now rising out of the water reaching at the full moon. Their owners seeking revenge for crimes commited thousands of years ago and willing to hunt ceaselessly, untiring, until they found the descendants of those who had wronged them.

In any case anyone was wondering how well I did with my time travel story: summarized my tutor said it was good but the ending was weak. And she asked who Linux was.

[JoshuaFH]

For what was basically a big description, I liked it. I'd complain of purple prose, but in this particular instance, it seems unavoidable.

I feel so ashamed that I put off what I promised to write for so long, I will definitely get on it.

[Makrond]

I know how you feel, Strife. I had a character who got 36. I then managed to get it down to about 20 or so by changing my characters to be less like idiot hangers-on to competent warriors in their own right. I'm in the process of getting a few injuries that make fighting harder. Should be fun!

[NastyDiarrhoea]

Hi, I thought that it was really good and there were alot of words in there that I had to look up in Websters. There was some repetition (intentional?) but otherwise excellent!! 

I though I'd might as well post a little (it is quite long) of my story up here and see what you guys think  because you all seem so nice.

Enjoy.


Prologue


   The thick fog enclosed around them, as the done-up double-decker bus drove through the car laden streets. All around were decaying husks of vehicles, but they were swept aside by the huge home-made snow plough welded to the front of the bus. All through the refurnished interior were the same anxious but stubborn expressions, the same white-knuckle grip on their rifles, the same flickering pupils that darted all over their eyes. The bus had been turned into a military vehicle after only five weeks of elbow-grease and material scavenging. They had outfitted it with stabilizers, so it couldn't be overturned by the bigger ones. It had been armed armoured to the teeth with thick metal to protect from the stronger ones. The seats had all been removed to make room for extra ammunition and supplies. Every passenger had been equipped with at least one firearm and had several designated firing areas. A ladder leading to the top of the bus also revealed the crown jewel of the now, armoured personnel  carrier, a (slightly outdated) Vulcan minigun with enough rounds to allow it to fire continuously for five minutes. It was attached to a swivel seat so the operator could fire more accurately. However it would have to be evacuated in case anything managed to get on top of the bus or if there was a flying threat.
   Luckily for this group of survivors their home village of St Peterson had been situated right next to a military base that had been evacuated-destroyed-overrun (in that order) after the bombs had fallen. The base was where they had picked up pretty much all of their munitions and ordinance. At first they had hoped that the military might still be operating there and that they could provide adequate protection, but they had found it completely abandoned with parts of the base completely caved in. Instead of protection though they found the means to protect themselves.

What do you guys think? (By the way it's not finished)

[deadlycairn]

Martian, at one pointe you spelled coarse as course (line 4). Other than that, it was fine. NastyD, on line 5 you wrote 'It had been armed armoured to the teeth'
other than that and a few other errors fine. Yes I'm a nitpicker/grammarnazi'

Now onto my real complaints. WHY MARTIAN? Why did you have to feed me descriptive writing? This last week I've been up to my ears in the stuff for a school assignment, and I'm in no mood to objectively judge any more. I don't particularly enjoy writing it, but don't mind reading it as long as it's well written.

Now for two questions:
1. What's purple prose?
2. What is the main harmful effect of radioactive waste?

I'm thinking about writing a sequel to my Wasted story, but coming from a nuclear - free country I know little about the consequences of unleashing radioactive waste upon the world. I'm guessing just masses of radiation, but how harmful can that be?

[JoshuaFH]

You'll notice that the word "purple prose" in my post is a link, leading to the page that explains it.

If that page is too long to read, then it's basically where the writer is being overly descriptive of every little thing.

[Mulch Diggums]

Nasty, I liked it alot. (Your names a bit..odd. Just thought I'd point that out.) Alot..But. A freaking minigun? One that has five minutes of ammo? It all seems a tad bit..Mary Sueish, but, im sure its fine. I've read alot of GREAT zombie storys where the character is very marrysue, but the read itself is still /great/. Good job, looking forward to the rest.

[JoshuaFH]

Where does it mention 'Zombies' Mulch?

[Mulch Diggums]

"They had outfitted it with stabilizers, so it couldn't be overturned by the bigger ones. It had been armed armoured to the teeth with thick metal to protect from the stronger ones."
That coupled with the setting = obvious zombies.

[JoshuaFH]

How do you know it isn't the setting for a world conquered by coke-crazy professional wrestlers from outer space? HMMM???

[penguinofhonor]

Strife, your poem doesn't rhyme. Therefore I don't like it.

Yes, I am incredibly closed-minded when it comes to poetry.

[Alexhans]

I don't know if you could call this poetry but It's a way I express myself.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Fed Up
Another day,
Too mad to play,
No will to stay,
Can't hold my sway.
Im in a mood,
To scar and kill,
Lost in the wood,
Of damned and ill.
I wanna crash,
Wanna destroy,
Im gonna dash,
For easy joy.
I can't go by,
Im going down,
My will is to fly,
Out of this town.
If at this moment,
I had the power,
To bring up torment,
Into this world.
I wouldnt hesitate,
This is my guestimate,
I really can't tell.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Hope
Maybe I'm not even free,
Apart from who I want to be,
Denying what I ought to feel,
That you are the only one that fits.

Beside my place, just near me,
Across my path, your destiny,
But what do I do when you don't seek,
Me in anyway, I don't exist.

What's empty, Isn't broken,
But that's what it seems,
I'm only rotten,
When I don't believe.

That there's a hope,
In our world, like a tree,
Growing slowly,
Evolving, from a seed.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Drawing
Oh I wish I could draw you,
Not failing each time I try,
To resemble the traits of your face,
And so have them to die.
Why do I take you away,
Oh soon should be the day,
When I wish you hadnt held your sway,
And for your return, pray.
Could I have your smile,
To watch the sunshine in your face,
Could I draw your eyes,
And see the sunset everyday.
Knowing Im gonna loose you,
Knowing youll go away,
I would like to have your picture,
To remember how I failed.

Some more poems by me:
http://www.thestories.net/stories/local/bmfy_alexhans/
(This is a great but abandoned page, we should resurrect it)

[JoshuaFH]

I checked out that Mary Sue litmus test, and to all the guys getting the high scores, be sure to read the instructions, it says that not properly taking the test can lead to insanely high scores.

[deadlycairn]

So, no answer to my other question? The 'What effects does radioactive waste have' question? I know it's idiotic, but better now than in my story.

[Martian]

So, no answer to my other question? The 'What effects does radioactive waste have' question? I know it's idiotic, but better now than in my story.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radiation_poisoning#Table_of_exposure_levels_and_symptoms

The radioactive material is probably poisonous all by itself excluding radiation. Uranium for example 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uranium#Effects