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Need advice on my story Watch

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    Listed below and no I could not attach an attachment because there is a problem with the word files on my computer.
    story listed below thanks for your advice.


    ‘What ever do you mean, now? Replied Stuart
    ‘No, no, no don’t be silly but now let me tell you another story...One about a girl, a girl who would soon change reality. Let it be called the hangman’s song, so what do you say, let’s cut down the hangman...
    The wind howled and the darkness crept as it listened in to people’s consciences, the dark grey leafless rotten trees surrounded the city like a tiger waiting to pounce and it’s so called victim. All of a sudden the Holm Oak felt a tight squeeze as a rope strangled one of its soon to be dead branches. Pain seized through its cracked, unwatered roots, feeding off its energy and making it crouch to its mercy. Quickly a group of solders dressed in blood velvet coats; coal black boots and sooty iron helmets dragged the man up to the all seeing tree. His witch-like face shone with a smile as bland as death its self. As his hoarse voice screeched for mercy, one of the solders drew out a sharpened metal dagger and moved it as slowly as possible across his flesh for a series of seconds. As flesh oozed out of the wound one of the men boasted in a deep and wealthy voice,
    ‘What the hell did you do that for? He’s in enough pain as it is and I surly don’t want to make this life any more miserable for him. Do you? No that’s what I thought, so for the mercy of god put the dam weapon down you fool and help me carry this...unholy creature to the tree and lets be done with this god dam rubbish ‘.
    After what seemed like a few minutes one of the other men replied,
    ‘What else to shut the dammed man up, that’s what. You take your place with the peasant that’s what, you answer to me and I answer to King Simones. So if I were you I would shut the hell up or I will have you strung up on that tree like this man will be, so come on, I don’t expect you to talk to me again anytime soon’.
    Slowly with a shaky and a kind of poor, horse voice the men stepped back a step and uttered,
    ‘There’s been enough bloodshed lost in this bloody war already, s-s-s-o-o p-please for the sake of god and people’s mercy let this poor man go’.
    With an angry expression, the man drew his sword from his silvery polished belt, lunged and without question sliced the sword in to his fellow solders stomach. Gasping, the solder fell to the floor choking for air but none came to his demand. With a disconcerted expression he cursed and then fell in to the empty void knowing that he had lost. Slowly the murderer pulled the lead metal sword out of the disconcerted mans stomach, studied the light liquid and wiped it on the grass making it shine again. Cursing he then slid it back in to his polished belt. With a smirk on the man’s face, the man shouted,
    ‘Now you know what would happen to you if you disobey my orders and insult me. Remember my name, Achalisagale and fear it. As if you come across it in battle it will be the last thing you will ever hear.
    With some of the soldier’s help, Achalisagale tightened the rope over the frightened mans neck, strung him up upon the tree and strode off with his fellow followers. They left the tree in excruciating pain, with another life form dying within its grasp.
    After trying to loosen the noose off of his neck, it started to tighten but soon after the solders fled, he fell dead. The man’s dark grey hands dangled across his pale cracked chest, his bloodshot broken eyes fell on to the crowd like an eagle spying upon is hunted prey. His moist hair swayed across his cracked dried up tongue as he waited, waited to be disposed of. By inchmeal a colony of spiders crept out of their nests, and scurried across the man’s torn, gunmetal grey shirt. Slowly they went in and out of the man’s great blooded wounds, caring for nothing but for the taste of flesh. Bit by bit, his torn chunky knees rowed back and forth while the repugnant crowed migrated around him as if nothing had happened.
    Sophia’s dark blonde hair glistened in the sunlight as her as wide as the ocean blue eyes gazed upon the hanged man. She studied his eye textures and the type of ragged broken clothing he was wearing and the deep fleshy wound, perfectly visible through his blood soaked clothing. The mark was called by the name of ‘The Death Song’ (A symbol of a snake going through a skull). This was often used to represent the traitors of the land as it was made to symbolise the king’s anger. Sophia studied the man for about an hour longer looking closely at all of the marks on his body and recording him in her journal. She came to the conclusion that he had been given a fleshy bloody cut for resisting King Simones orders despite the number of other wounds across his broken shirt. Also, she concluded that he was probably hanged as he hadn’t listened to the king’s orders and rebelled against him.
    However there was one weird thing that puzzled her, the man’s face for one looked weirdly familiar and he had three scrapes going across his chest all accurately the same length and the same density. They were covered with a thick type of green blistered paste. For another hour Sophia studied the body and without coming to any conclusions about what could have had made the mark, she left with a head full of curiosity.
    ...
    After a short walk she arrived in the centre of the enslaved city. The sky was blood red as always. She knew that red sky at night meant that blood had and will be spilt in the next day. After a while of studying the sky she noticed that Lucy, her friend, was lying by the rusted lamppost. Quickly Sophia said in a normal voice,
    ‘You would never guess what I’ve just seen, I saw a man hanged but there was something weird about him, he looked awfully familiar’ (Sophia purposefully did not mention the event with the scratches on the man stomach as she didn’t want to scare Lucy).
    Slowly Lucy exclaimed,
    ‘Wait you mean that creepy butcher that said he knew something important about the king but then disappeared before anyone heard it?
    ‘Yeah that man’
    ‘Weird right?!’
    After talking for the rest of the day, discussing the previous events, the light started to fall so she excused herself and started to walk home. As Sophia started to stroll down the gloomy, overgrown path she heard the beautiful ‘cheeps’ of the Makalutalu (an extremely rear bird used to carry messages between clans and it extreme uses it can be used in war). All of a sudden she suddenly heard the chirping stop and an inky dark figure (bigger than any human) started to rise from the soil. Rising, hot bubbling liquid dribbled down from it burning and setting fire to all of the living plants and creatures below. As the figure started to take the shape she noticed it looked like nothing that she had ever seen before. Slowly it started to lift it enormous bubbling head exposing the bloody broken holes of his eyes. Black blooded feathers were stuck to his face by only a thread; its flesh underneath his chin was exposed (probably from battle wounds) and beneath it was a greenish type of liquid. Its hunched back cracked as it squawked for the first time exposing its ash black tongue and black pointed teeth. Its eroding vampire like jaw tensed as Sophia fell to the floor gasping. Opining its mouth a second time; it started to look towards Sophia. Slowly it dribbled with a rich, mocking voice,
    ‘It’s the end Sophia, we all know it. King Simones is getting stronger without anyone knowing and soon he’s going to enslave every one of us.’
    ‘W-what do you m-mean you reckless slave’, spat Sophia in an attempt to try to shake the creature off her trail.
    Then again the creature started to open its mouth, exposing its blooded fangs and instead of backing away the creature only started to laugh,
    ‘You’re the reckless slave that will die and be enslaved soon, your family will die, die I say, while you will still live with the pain that has now been cast towards you’.
    ‘No, this can’t happen and it won’t, you are just trying to scare me... That’s what I thought’, sobbed Sophia. ‘Just go away, you crippled monster.’
    As you wish, I will go little one but you have inflicted a curse upon you and your family, your family will definitely die and it’s your entire fault for meddling with the forces of the Fornasway.
    ‘Go and rot in hell you monster’, screamed Sophia.
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    BTW this is a bit I was unsure of in my 17 paged story, an extract if you wish.
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    (Original post by ybco124)
    *snip*
    Your language is over-dramatic and some words are incorrectly used - eg one doesn't slice a sword into another's belly, one would slice the other's belly open with the sword.

    Hard to see anything else really, because you seem to have either started writing in medias res or else taken your extract from the middle of the text.
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    (Original post by Tootles)
    Your language is over-dramatic and some words are incorrectly used - eg one doesn't slice a sword into another's belly, one would slice the other's belly open with the sword.

    Hard to see anything else really, because you seem to have either started writing in medias res or else taken your extract from the middle of the text.
    Is it ok though, would you say it would pass for a GCSE style story
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    (Original post by ybco124)
    Is it ok though, would you say it would pass for a GCSE style story
    I wouldn't pass it, to be honest, no, because I wouldn't pass a piece of work in which language was incorrectly used (unless that was justifiable in conext).

    Then again I could be biased.
 
 
 
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