Bitch, I'll cut you!

If you happen to be a demon, don't eff with the umber awesum kikass girlz. They'll freakin' cut you! I just stumbled across this wonderful bit of love as I was about to call it a proof-reading night, and I just have to make it my new post.

Topic:



Prose:

Price of Freedom

For the first time in ages she had fought the demon. With the fury that her was characteristic of her family long ago, she regained control of her body. Somehow, by sheer willpower alone—willpower she should have lost long ago—she managed to force the monster out: out of her mind, out of her soul, into the open.

It was a novel sensation for the demon. For years, he had listened to the anguished mental cries, as he twisted her body and committed atrocity after atrocity, forcing her to watch in terror and disgust. She had been his praised pet; most entertaining and as harmless as a declawed and defanged old lioness.

And now his little lioness had broken free, suddenly full of fire and will to fight. It might have been new, but it was also entertaining, the demon decided. He would break her again, of course.

He reached out for her mind—the mind he knew so well—and started tearing through the memories, he knew would make her break down. He forced her to relive the death of her beloved brother, all over again. And then, as she sobbed and begged for him to stop, and for her brother to come back, he started destroying her memories of him.

He would take all her memories, her only treasures.

She fell to her knees sobbing, desperately trying to retain at least a bit of her identity. Something, anything—the tiniest bit of memory, a hint of who she was… But the demon kept diving deeper and deeper into her mind, ripping everything apart and leaving only emptiness.

Ever so slowly her sobs died down and she stopped resisting. Her mind was now an almost total blank, with only a tiny nagging feeling that told her that she should kill the thing before her. Wordlessly, she stared into the water.

And then she rose; giddily, as if she wear drunk. For the first time in years her face was calm and so was her mind. For the first time in years one could again see the eerie serene beauty of her pale skin and silvery hair and how oddly the contrasted with her violet eyes.

Slowly, dreamily she headed forward, deeper into the pond, her eyes never leaving the triumphant demon. She was mere inches away from him, knee deep in water, when suddenly, she ducked. With one smooth move she grabbed a sword she had just noticed and drove it right into the demons heart.

Looking up, still ever so serene, she twisted the blade.




Ripped up edits:

For the first time in ages she had fought the demon [Without the whole "the first time in ages" bit, we would have thought that fighting demons was a regular occurrence for her, right. I mean, I know it is for me]. With the fury that her was characteristic of her family long ago [Did anyone else read that and think anything other than "WHAT?"], she regained control of her body. Somehow, by sheer willpower alone—willpower she should have lost long ago[With her family that her was characteristic from long ago... okay, sorry, that hurt my own head to type.]—she managed to force the monster out: out of her mind, out of her soul, into the open [Yeah, you own that monster-demon!].

It was a novel sensation for the demon. For years, he had listened to the anguished mental cries, as he twisted her body and committed atrocity after atrocity, forcing her to watch in terror and disgust [Now I don't know if that was SUPPOSED to sound sexual buuut...]. She had been his praised pet; most entertaining and as harmless as a declawed and defanged old lioness [I had to read that about six times before I sorted it out into something I understood, where I could KINDA see what she meant the sentence to be.].

And now his little lioness [Okay, bad metaphor. Little and lioness are complete opposites and... you think of lionesses as ferocious, not precious. You can just TELL this is not the thought she was trying to project.] had broken free, suddenly full of fire and will to fight. It might have been new, but it was also entertaining, the demon decided[Gone comma-happy?]. He would break her again, of course[To me, the phrase "of course" has very few effective uses. This is not one of them. Why not take it out completely, save some wording, and get an altogether better sentence?].

He reached out for her mind—the mind he knew so well—and started tearing through the memories, he knew would make her break down [Again, comma-happy.]. He forced her to relive the death of her beloved brother, all over again [Ladies and gents, I introduce to you, the Comma Fiend. And why is it that 99% of ALL fantasy characters have to have a completely broken background, having witness at least one if not ALL of their family members' deaths?]. And then, as she sobbed and begged for him to stop, [... not even going to say it.] and for her brother to come back, he started destroying her memories of him.

He would take all her memories, her only treasures[Asshole!].

She fell to her knees sobbing, desperately trying to retain at least a bit of her identity. Something, anything—the tiniest bit of memory, a hint of who she was… But the demon kept diving deeper and deeper into her mind, ripping everything apart and leaving only emptiness[And blackness and sorrow and why does the world hate me, brb gotta go cut my wrists...].

Ever so slowly her sobs died down and she stopped resisting. Her mind was now an almost total blank [An almost total blank? Where did you find one of those? Wal-Mart?], with only a tiny nagging feeling that told her that she should kill the thing before her [It took me two full read-throughs to figure out what she meant by "the thing." For the record, she means the demon. But see, the impression I got at the beginning was that the demon was inside her and she pushed him out and now he's back in again so would that not remove him from in front of her? I don't get it.]. Wordlessly, she stared into the water. [Hold on now what water, where did it come from?]

And then she rose; giddily, as if she wear drunk [First of all, was she not just sobbing in hysterics? And really, she should try another look. Drunk is never good to wear in public, you ought to know.]. For the first time in years her face was calm and so was her mind. For the first time in years one [?] could again see the eerie serene beauty of her pale skin [?] and silvery hair [?] and how oddly the [?] contrasted with her violet eyes [?] [Okay, so "one" would be concentrating on this girl and not the demonic monster, I get that. But why why WHY WHY WHY do these people need stupid colors of hair and eyes? Come on, that is about the lamest card you could pull. Put it back in the deck, NOW. Next thing you know, this girl is going to have an unpronounceable, Japanese-sounding name like "Jtsuyumi Hikabarchisonatoqichi."].

Slowly, dreamily she headed forward [Is the demon telling her to? No he isn't! He just lets his mind-controlled teeny lioness wander around, whatever, he fucked up the memories of her dead bro so she's harmless anyways.], deeper into the pond, her eyes never leaving the triumphant demon. She was mere inches away from him, knee deep in water, when suddenly, she ducked [SUDDENLY TIME FOR EPIC AWESOMENESS!]. With one smooth move [Oh, she's smooooth!] she grabbed a sword she had just noticed [Just some random weapon, it was just there and she was like "yeah, I could rock that piece of awesomeness.] and drove it right into the demons [lack of possessive comprehension] heart. [I thought demons were spirity-type-things... but I could be wrong, whatever, it's fantasy, my little nit-picking bit.]

Looking up, still ever so serene, she twisted the blade. [Because people are always serene and cool-headed and SMOOTH MOVERS when they slay a demon that has had possession of them for a few years, it's no big deal, it's just chill. I get that.]


Okay, Comma Fiend. I wouldn't hand in the English Lessons you so wondrously have access to, living in a first-world country and all. And don't try so hard to try and make your character "full of win." We get it, they're awesome. But instead of trying to throw them a million smooth-moving, odd-colored features in the reader's face, show them through their actions that don't make a reader sigh with exasperation and click the "next" button under your topic title, alright?

And don't you know that their SN is an unpronounceable, Japanese-sounding name like I thought the character's might end up being. Huh. Maybe I should have looked at that before the crit. Oh, well.

And from the profile:

"I'm a Super Robot fan, but I also like a good read (fantasy in particular). My other hobby is roleplaying, but I'm fairly picky about who I play with. Last, but not least, I'm a feminist, which means I believe men and women are equal. While I study linguistics, I intend to become a writer in the future. I actually wrote stories at the age of seven (total crap, but anyway). I got better though. Or I might become a sociolinguist. Who knows? Right now I teach English in a language school. Part-time job."

Well for one, I don't think feminism means the equality of men and women. I'm pretty sure feminists are out to destroy men, they frighten me and I don't know how they come up with some of the things they do.

But what's more? This person is apparently an ENGLISH TEACHER! Dear lord what is this world coming to? It frightens me that my concert band's director used to be an English teacher, but now it's not so bad after I've seen this bit of wonder. Wow.