I just finished editing chapter 20 of my book, and I think that I did a really good job!
How are you, short buddy?
I had a lot of fun finding different ways to describe pain in that chapter.
(It was a torture scene)
Wow, sounds intense.
Lots of blood, knives, and ripping of flesh.
Dannng you a bloodthirsty young wench.
It’s all that D&D! The devil’s game!
I once skinned a kobald alive in D&D.
Because it killed my friend, driving my elf mad.
Thia Liadon the High Elf changed from lawful good to chaotic good because of that.
Your dad is openminded as fuck.
I actually chose to have my elf driven mad, because she was too “Predictable” for my tastes.
I wanted her to be more like myself.
I know, man, I’m just saying, if I had tried to talk about skinning something alive my dad woulda beat the hell out of me and sent me back to the convent lmao. It’s cool your dad/DM encourages your ideas.
Yeah. My dad’s cool like that.
I mean, he doesn’t let me watch PG movies on the TV, but he’ll let me skin things alive in D&D.
Although I’m guessing he would freak if he read chapter 20 of my book.
Edit: I may be exaggerating a little bit, for the sake of wording.
I do love a well worded sentence.
I’m doing okay, how about you?
Here’s the first part of chapter 20
(It’s a torture scene, so be prepared)
click this to see it
Seven Fingers turns to me, with a large knife in hand. “No noise is getting out of this cave, not with those doors closed.” He says. “So let’s see how loud you can scream.” I’m guessing now that all color left over after my transformation has drained out of my face.
“Yeah, girlie. You scared? Ya’ should be. I’m gonna get back at you for killing all my minions.” He unlocks the cage door and drags me out by my chains, only then do I get a good look at the rest of the cave. I see a long black table with metal bands on either end and racks of weapons that line the walls.
Seven Fingers chains me to the table and starts jabbing me with knives, asking me questions.
“How did you find my base!?” He yells at me as he cuts deeply into my arm, causing blood to wet my clothes. I don’t answer his question, trying to resist, despite the agony shooting through my arm.
“How did you find my base?” He inquires, jabbing the blade deep into my stomach. “The leechbane should’ve made tracking impossible!” I grit my teeth, trying to suppress a scream.
“Alright. I see that I’m not getting anywhere this way.” He walks over to the weapon racks and selects a more delicate looking knife.
Seven Fingers walks back over to the table where I am strapped and positions the knife near my head. “You are going to answer my question, or else you will learn what a jack-o-lantern feels like. How. Did. You. Find. My. Base.” I shake my head and hiss at him. “I’ll never tell you!”
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that.” He pauses, waiting for me to respond. I am silent.
Seven Fingers brings the knife closer to my face. “Hurry up now and answer, honey. You don’t have very long 'till this knife finds your skin.”
I remain mute, despite his threats.
“Oh well. It’s your face.” He touches the knife to the skin of my face, and traces around my lips, digging the tip of the blade into my flesh.
Blood flows into my mouth, and I spit the mixture of saliva and my own blood into Seven Finger’s face. He yells at me and wipes the gross mixture out of his eyes.
Seven Fingers storms over to the weapon racks, and grabs a long, curved knife, with a hooked tip that makes me hurt just by looking at it.
Seven Fingers comes over to the table again and starts raking the hooked knife through my skin. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming but am unable to stop the shrieks from escaping from my mouth when he starts hacking off large chunks of flesh from my limbs.
I scream. I shriek. I yell. I wail. I continue to cry out in pain until my throat gives out, but my screams start anew once my vocal cords have healed.
When he finishes torturing me, I have no idea how much time has passed, it could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. It could have been days, or it could have been weeks. It could have been months, or it could have been years.
All I know was that I was in blinding, burning, blistering agony for what felt like an eternity.
Wow, like I thought intense and well written!
Could you put a warning before that link that the content is violent and mature? Don’t want people clicking on it and not being prepared.
Yeah, I put a warning before the link.
I didn’t think it would be a problem when I put it, since it’s no worse than what happens in the hunger games, and that book’s not mature, but I guess some people might be easily disturbed by violence.
Is it too late to say I volunteer to read it?
Is it weird that when I went shopping today (needed to buy some new shirts) and saw a shirt that said… well actually there were two shirts one said ‘Good Witch’ the other said ‘Bad Witch’ and I immediately thought of this thread.
Should I give my story a happy, satisfying ending, or a sad, dramatic ending, when I finish however many books there are going to be in the series?
- Happy, satisfying ending?
- Sad, but dramatic ending. (Still fitting)?
I have no problem with sad, dramatic endings, but whether happy, sad, or bittersweet the ending should be satisfying.