Li approached the small, desolate island, chest bubbling just as the water did underneath his nose. The water filled his lungs; his legs had long since fused together in a long, fish-like tail, propelling him forward as he swam towards the tiny patch of land. Its jagged cliff-side faced him, an old, withered tree standing at the edge of it, its
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It's just that he's gotta whittle her down, slowly. Especially since I think his real goal is getting her to do the dirty work for him. I don't think he particularly likes killing. :)
Thank you! I was trying to work on a couple of things in this piece, especially emotion without stating them outright. So I'm glad that worked. :D
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...that prints were found all over the small, one-family home. In blood. On the knife. On his son’s skin. His toys.
This is one of the most powerful ways of expressing the level of horror, the amount of loss, and the sheer anger of this event--all in a few lines. Wow.
Almost as much of a bunch in the gut as that ending. Almost.
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Awww, thank you! I'm glad that those few lines hit so hard.
<3 I wanted that ending to hit hard, too, so I'm glad it did. :)
Thank you for commenting. :D
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