Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Zen, Nov 7, 2012.

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    Fear: a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc. whether the threat is real or imagined ; the feeling or condition of being afraid

    Write a post involving this emotion. It can be anything ranging from a child's fear of what lies underneath the bed, to an adult's fear of not being able to pay the bills on time. Or you could go with an apocalyptic setting about someone fearing for their life or the world ending. Show me your character quivering in fear.

  2. Re: Writing Exercise: Fear

    Mina breathed in deeply, while trying to calm her heart beat after hearing screams and yells of anguish or terror. I will be fine...my brother and sister are safe...the frightened teen thought,still focusing on keeping her heart beat down. She glanced through the small open space in the window and nearly shrieked in terror at the scene she had seen. "They're gone...everyone must be gone and I'm the only one left that hasn't become a bloodthirsty monster...."she whispered to herself,while continuing to stare at the new forms of her friends,family, and neighbors. Mina felt a bone chilling stare on her,before she backed away from the boarded window and hid in the closet. She heard the ramming against the front door and curled into the deepest corner of the coat closet.I'm next.....I can't be turned into one of those....beasts. The young woman heard the footsteps get closer to the closet and she began to tremble in fear. "Anyone.....anybody......please, save me....."
  3. Re: Writing Exercise: Fear

    ( Sorry for just jumping in, but I love writing this kind of stuff)

    The girl held her breath, terrified of being discovered. Her mother's screams still echoed in her mind. She was frozen in fear as heavy and measured footsteps walked slowly down the hallway. The girl swallowed a whimper as the man's boots made their way closer and closer to her room and her hiding place. The man did not speak as he searched for the life form he knew was there. As he searched for another scream to release. The girl was shivering, imagining the man's cold hands around her neck and the same sinister smile that he had given her mother. He heart was beating so fast, she was sure it would break free from her chest and give her away. The footsteps stopped right outside her room. She knew she didn't have a chance of getting away. Her mouth opened and her fear screamed forth into the world.
  4. Re: Writing Exercise: Fear

    The infernal machine worked like a beating heart, the circuitous channels of steel feeding the gargantuan atrium. The flutings were hued to resemble outer tissue and veins, petulous tendrils networking to find an import to the quivering veins seeking to leech the panic that was induced of the tortures the unprivileged guests were subjected to. It supplied this adrenaline to the infernal assembly like clockwork, the terror being wrenched from their very beings like the process of bloodflow, en route to the colossal chamber.

    Their gazes forcibly affixed to a parade of disturbing cinema, a panorama of grisly scenes ingrained upon a silver screen. However, they were not mere works of fiction alivened in rolling image. They were a menagerie of morbid events taken from memories, recollections of terrible tragedies that befell the ones most held dear to each individual soul. There was to be a live inactment of these most terrifying nightmares, the victims paid homage in becoming forever memorialized on film. The first was drug unwillingly into the limelight, showing the signs of her forceful capture. Her parents had ceased to live, lit up like effigies in a conflagration that swallowed her childhood home. It would be the ecstasy of a pyrophile.

    Suddenly, the room had become a reality of her coerced reminiscing, and flames had begun to lap the walls like ravenous tongues. She could hear the screams of her parents from long ago, as if the very memory had become life as she knew it once more. Her face which had been struck by strange fascination had contorted into a mask of fear, her eyes widening at the sight of imaginary flames razing the foundation she stood. She looked upon the charred remains, a tinge of smoke finding its way to her as if her nose possessed some sort of olfactory magnets to attract such a repugnant scent. Her pulse was beat upon her eardrums, she could feel her overwrought veins writhing beneath her skin. When she was spent, another was brought to the stage. This boy was united with a disheveled father, but the happy coalessence was to be short lived. As he ran to his child with open arms,he stepped upon the rigged floorboard that would activate a whirling of blades which would sever his appendages in a most gruesome manner.

    The boy would become painted of the tatters of flesh and blood of his predessesor, his anguish fueling the horrible contraption. Steam would be released of a valve which seemed to mock an artery in intervals, as if the thing was actually pulsing with the life force imbued within it by the anxiety and fright, and trauma of the prisoners. A mechanical whir. More were to perish by the terrible invention of a madman, their eyes darting about as they were distressed, their mouths frozen in a scream. The man's pride would become his folly, and as he was taken from the theatre by the police, he would proclaim to all the witnesses present.."I have the knowledge of how to convert fear into a less expensive form of electricity!"
  5. Re: Writing Exercise: Fear

    <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> Fear Of Loosing
    Words: 746
    Time: 1 hour 25 Mins
    Summary: My Oc Melvin fearing he will give into the Hunger of the vampire and loose that part of him that makes him still human, after having black out before….

    What time was it?

    What day? Was it night or light outside? Was it still the same season outside the walls of this stone room they had thrown him into? Chains made of steel burned into his wrist, a collar on his neck like a junk yard dog. Where his friends safe? Those tenets of his building he rented to? Learned to call friend over weeks and years? Would those basterds go after them just to prove his weakness? Was it weakness not to become something like them?

    Dryly laughing, Melvin shoot his head, feeling oily bangs move onto his sweating forehead head. God, he felt gross and dirty just sitting in dirt. Cold pickling on his cooled skin, goose bumps forming over the flesh under his tatter sweat shirt. Chaffing on his chest, dried blood most likely looking black rub on his skin. Some of his, being beat and stabbed by the those he would call “blood brother” after refusing to do what they wanted him to do.

    Drink human blood. Yah he did pare take of human blood now and then, a few times from a open vein from someone he did work for in exchange like fixing their computer or car. It was a win win for both parties, and no he got hurt or killed. He had seen also his far share of Biters, those humans addiction to the vampire’s bite, junkies of the undead. Mel had promise his mother that he would never let anyone get to the level he might feed from then and now but all that promise could burn in hell in the next few days.

    Josh, his bloodmother and maker’s oldest son had come to the city. Coming to take her place for a month while Jena went over to France to meet with her maker and some of the older vampires in a meeting of politics and other fancy things. On that first day of meeting, Mel knew he was in for trouble once the handsome man had come out, eyed him up and smiled in the devilish like way that made you wish the devil would show up to beat the crap out of the guy.

    Oh good older brother had made in week one of his “stay” to make Melvin under his wing and reform the younger vamp on what a true vamp and how they acted and their true nature and all that good old boy b.s.

    He had said something Johny boy had never heard from anyone his whole undead life spanning over the world a few times.


    Simple little words of No had now made Mel want to say yes and play along till Jena got back and things went back to normal. They had thrown him down here hours later, knowing what would happen if a vampire went to long with out the blood. He only had to drink twice a week a bit of human blood, to keep off the hunger that could drive even the oldest of the vamps into a near animal like hunter. A vampire driven into a blood rage would kill and drain any human crossing their paths, he had seen it happen once and never wanted to fall into such a state.

    Blood was the life blood of the vampire, they need it just to live everyday and rise. Mel not so much had to drink as much blood but he still felt the tingle in his fangs when the Hunger would come on him a bit. Yet now, his fangs lightly pulled at his gums, the hunger turning and whispering in his veins like a lover. Which was the start, John and his so called followers wanted the Hunger to drive Melvin close to that animal state so we would drink from a human with out any control. The worst part they had captured a teenager, some young woman pulled from the streets out of the blue. Having no idea what she was going to be used for, maybe killed by some rave vamp in a blood lust!

    That was his fear, to kill someone and loose that part of Mel that made him, well him. Could he be strong enough not to turn into that vampire?
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  6. Re: Writing Exercise: Fear

    David tried to quell the scream rising in his throat. His mother was laying on the bed, the blank stare and cold sweat of the dying sinking into her body. He had tried to for weeks to contact his father, but all to no avail. David suspected his father had also died and he feared losing his mother. He had no one else and was already working overtime to pay the medical bills and the bills attached to the house. Swords and weapons hung on hooks around the house and shone brightly. When it came down to it, he could kill the monsters and beasts lying in wait, he could even kill the thieves and looters. This sickness, however, was one he could not fight with weapons or tactic. David's parents always told him that people feared what they could not see. He, however, had never experienced such raw and paralyzing fear until now. This was something that could neither be seen or explained, and the fear struck him to his core. His mother looked at him, her mouth attempting to form words, and he wondered...was he strong enough to let her go?
  7. Re: Writing Exercise: Fear

    It was her wedding day. Typically, one is not afraid on a day like this, but Mariah was.

    She had seen her husband to be excactly twice in her life. Once, she had been five and he was seven and he'd pulled her hair so much she cried until her mother told her this was not how she was to behave in front of her future husband.
    The second time, she had been fourteen and he sixteen. He had no eyes for her, only for her sister. Who was prettier, smarter, wittier than her. They had been supposed to talk but he never took his eyes of her sister, not once.

    After he had gone that day, she cried like the last time. This time, she made sure no one saw her tears.

    Mariah took a deep breath and tried to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. She was scared. Scared he would still have only eyes for her sister. Scared she would be a bad wife to him. Scared she wasn't ready to get married. But there was no one who cared. No one who understood her fear.

    She sighed, tried again to wish away all the raw feelings she just could not deal with and put on a happy face, another new mask she would be wearing for years to come, when her sister knocked on the door.
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