/lit/ - Literature

why didn't you do it? good posting op

>>4179260
good posting anon

>>4179260
because he didn't have an image to base his story on, you silly sausage

>>4179260
I didn't have an image to base my story on. I was actually going to write one based on the first story/picture that is posted so I could participate myself.

>>4179258
Christopher held his dead friend in his arms. The blood spewing out of the side of the cranium was warm against the fingers that held it.
“Why did I kill my friend” he thought.

>>4179305
From the moment the first hideous appendage burst flagellating from her wildly pulsating vagina, starwoman knew the months of hard drinking during her pregnancy had been a drastic mistake. "Why, star husband, Why didn't you warn me?" she would later weep, watching their offspring twist and thrash, wishing it were dead.

>>4179305
Mr. and Mrs. Star waited nervously in the small, cramped hospital room. The doctor had whisked away the infant as soon as it was born and had to place it into observation. After a few hours the door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Star looked to see the doctor enter into the room.

"Mr. and Mrs. Star," the doctor said, "your little baby boy is going to pull through."

"Oh thank the heavens!" Mrs. Star said as her husband put his arm around her. They both let out a relieved sigh.

"I wouldn't thank the heavens yet." The doctor said, approaching them slowly. "There's something I need to tell you about your son." He turned to the door. "Well, more something that I need to show you." The stars exchanged worried glances. "Bring him in, nurse." The doctor called out.

The nurse carried in a small bundle of blankets and placed them into Mrs. Star's arms. She slowly unwrapped the blanket. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, dropping the newborn baby on the floor. "What the fuck is wrong with it?" She cried out and burst into tears. Mr. Star just sat there, frozen, unable to move.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, "but your baby was born ugly." The sounds of the wailing mother were heard down the halls of the hospital.

>>4179318
>ha ha ha

>>4179324
post a stupid image, get a stupid response

>>4179318
As Robert entered the his secret room to check on the two girls, he reflected on the nice, supple, voluptuous legs they both possessed. He gave them their blessings and some milk and pastries, per usual. But the rest of the day afterwards, including during his bubble bath, he could not shake the image in his mind of those perfect legs. He later painted the scene as he remembered it on a blank, expensive canvas and hung it in his room. He seldom had visitors, he didn’t need to worry about anyone discovering his art.

"Come in." The voice was cold and hard, as if it were reverberating through metal piping. He sat with his head hanging between his shoulders at the end of the long hall in an old wooden chair. As the door opened and the two women entered, his head jerked up and a slow smile revealed a series of sharp metal fangs, rusted and misshapen. The two women walked hurriedly with their heads hung low, averting their gaze from the creature who sat waiting at the end of the hall. The older of the two women spoke first.

"We have come at your bidding, master." She said as she got on her knees and threw her arms and body down the ground in front of her.

"We await whatever punishment that you decide is fitting for us." the younger woman added as she followed suit.

The creature at the end of the hall stared at them, judging them. "I have decided" he said after what seemed to be an hour. He leaned forward and pushed himself out of his chair. The roof was too low to allow him to stand straight, so he wove his way towards them, moving awkwardly in the confined space. He looked down the younger maid's legs and began to stretch his massive claw towards her supple thigh.

"No, your grace, take me instead." The older woman said suddenly sat up. "I will gladly take her punishment."

"Oh don't worry," the creature said. "I'll punish you after I punish her."

God had returned to earth but he wasn't like anything they had imagined.

>>4179318

"Come in." The voice was cold and hard, as if it were reverberating through metal piping. He sat with his head hanging between his shoulders at the end of the long hall in an old wooden chair. As the door opened and the two women entered, his head jerked up and a slow smile revealed a series of sharp metal fangs, rusted and misshapen. The two women walked hurriedly with their heads hung low, averting their gaze from the creature who sat waiting at the end of the hall. The older of the two women spoke first.

"We have come at your bidding, master." She said as she got on her knees and threw her arms and body down the ground in front of her.

"We await whatever punishment that you decide is fitting for us." the younger woman added as she followed suit.

The creature at the end of the hall stared at them, judging them. "I have decided" he said after what seemed to be an hour. He leaned forward and pushed himself out of his chair. The roof was too low to allow him to stand straight, so he wove his way towards them, moving awkwardly in the confined space. He looked down the younger maid's legs and began to stretch his massive claw towards her supple thigh.

"No, your grace, take me instead." The older woman said suddenly sat up. "I will gladly take her punishment."

"Oh don't worry," the creature said. "I'll punish you after I punish her."

God had returned to earth but he wasn't like anything they had imagined.

>>4179338
Twenty-five days in and they had eaten the last of the pack animals. By day Thirty, he'd eaten his two remaining companions. The old Sherpa had been clever, but in his weakness his fleetness of foot had failed to deliver him from the ice axe that pierced his skull. Having consumed the last of the marrow on day Thirty-six, the sole surviving mountaineer continued upward, knowing that even with a full belly he was sure to succumb to the cold if he stopped moving. As he collapsed in the snow, no longer feeling cold, he fancied that through the blizzard he could just make out a yellow banner, flapping in the hyperborean wind.

>>4179356
“There it is.”
“And what’s it called again?”
“Ka-kinorimojimarial”
“Good lord.”
Commander Richen pulled back a lever close to his seat with great finesse, and Henry felt the first G-forces of the coming re-entry. He closed his eyes and began a familiar routine. It was the same every time. The more well adjusted crew member fared better, but Henry was the team doctor and the only one who was terribly sensitive. He imagined earth, old familiar earth. Earth like in his alpha memories, vivid and sensory. Green grass and hills, trees, every stereotypical image of “home” one might cringe at. But it had a strange calming effect on Henry’s nerves and stomach, and he had taken to visiting them often.

>>4179354
Karl paused by the splintered roadsign to double over and spit a gob of bloody phlegm into the brush. The much vaunted dry, desert air had done precisely fuck-all for his consumption, and his career as an outlaw had thusfar been about as successful. As he stood and wiped his mouth, he noticed his pistol had once again tumbled from the string he wore as a makeshift belt. He retrieved it, cursing, the bores now caked with a sticky mess of dirt and grease. The trail to Snake River wasn't getting any shorter.

>>4179395

The sounds of rifles firing and rounds exploding were the only things Eric could hear. His mouth was open beneath his gas mask and he knew he was screaming yet still the only noise his ears perceived was the crack and bang and pow of the weapons around him.

The machine gun in Erich's hands shook violently as he fired it. Sometimes he aimed careful at a single man, other times he simply let the vibrations of the weapon randomly draw the aim for him. The other men of his unit stood in the trench on either side of him, each one wearing the same standard issued gas mask. Erich had known these men for nearly three years now and he still couldn't recognize them whenever they had these masks on.

The man next to him (Hermann, or was it Frast?) stood to lob a grenade. As soon as the explosive left the man's hand, he was struck in the chest by an enemy bullet, falling to the ground with a thud that was drowned out in the din of the battle. It crossed Erich's mind that he should check on the man, but one quick look and he knew the man was already a corpse. Another corpse in this land of corpses.

Erich's machine gun clicked loudly as it attempted to fire and found no ammunition to work with. Erich took his hand off the weapon and reached for another belt to reload the gun with. As he turned back towards his gun he was surprised to find a man standing at the trench edge, right over him. The man's uniform was the same muddy brown as Erich's, though whether it came that way or had simply earned the colour from years of service, as Erich's had, he didn't know. The man wore a gas-mask as well and held a bayonet'd rifle above his head like a spear.

Erich stared at the man. The man stared back. The man was posed to strike Erich down; Erich was helpless to prevent. And yet neither moved. The man didn't strike; Erich didn't reach for his own weapon. Erich realized he could now hear himself screaming, the sound of his voice overpowering the drone of war. The scream was muffled, even to his own ears by the plastic of the mask he wore, but still, a scream it was.

The crack of a pistol shot broke the stupor of both men and interrupted Erich's until-now continuous battle cry. The man standing above Erich took a step backwards and fell over, a hole in his gas mask dripping red from a fatal wound. Another corpse.

Erich turned and found the Oberleutnant standing behind him, his still smoking pistol aimed to fire if the man stood up again. When it became clear the man was dead, the Oberleutnant gestured towards the machine gun, then moved on down the trench.

Erich returned to his weapon and slid the fresh ammunition belt into place. He began to fire once more.

He opened his mouth and started up his screaming again.

Once more, his own ears were deaf to his cries.

>>4179376

She looked out the window the same way a disappoint mother looks at their child after having a heated argument with them.

The Professor considered for a moment interrupting the girl's self-imposed melancholy to let her know that class was over, but he decided against it. If the girl didn't feel like paying attention to his lecture then he didn't feel like telling her she needed to get to her next class before she was considered tardy.

The Professor smiled to himself knowingly as he gathered his things. Pasturing at the door before he left, he looked over his shoulder at the empty room and the inattentive girl. With a slight chuckle that he made sure to keep soft lest he awaken the girl from her ignorant meditation, he thought "What a terrible hat."

>>4179553

Robert couldn't breath. He stood there, at the edge of the where the big red curtain separated the stage from the backstage. On the other side of the crimson barrier stood a deck, filled with instruments, yet devoid of musicians. Further on was the audience of over 3,000 people, paying customers here to see a wonderful show.

And Robert had to be the one to go out there and tell them that it wasn't going to happen. The sound of a thousands of people conversing at once was like a low rumbling of a herd charging straight at him, ready to overtake him at any moment. A great fist seemed to have taken hold Robert's heart, holding it in a vice that made his chest hurt with every burst of movement his heart made. The sweat was rolling off his forehead in streams, stinging his eyes as it rolled past his brow.

With a deep breath, Robert stood as straight as he could. Taking a step forward, he pushed past the curtain and stood on the stage, alone. The audience quieted down as he saw them, the great silence that began to surround Robert like a noose tightening ever so roughly around his neck.

>>4179674
What could they possibly do? There is nothing. Nothing even remotely frightening I can imagine. Worst case would end up with a bullet in my head. Shot as a deserter.
Yeah, I smile a little inside. Just another way to exit this war. Maybe that's the solution, just keep sitting here, waiting to exit this war.

I'd love to hear your opinion on that, but I'm not native english so there are probably some mistakes.

>>4179717

A little stilted. Feel's "Stop and Go"-ish.

Not saying this is a bad thing, just not sure if that's what you were going for.

>>4179780
thanks, that's exactly the way of criticism Iwas looking for.

>>4179717
The silence was deafening. My vision smothered by the six colorless surfaces that housed my prison. Taste and smell non-existence by this stage, but somehow hunger too. No textures to excite myself other than the smooth coldness of the walls and my own skin. Was there even a difference now?

This room had been made for me. It was the perfect home. It restated my attitude, my dreams, my hopes, my future, my past, my present, my life. It was this realization that, like a balloon that was held too tight, snapped something within me. I committed an unthinkable act of self mutilation. Possibly for punishment. Possibly for fun. Or most possibly, because it was the only thing left to do.

>>4179939

Sounds of gunfire, muffled by the ruins of buildings that were once considered something more than just cover and concealment. The smell of burning flesh, a sweet smell, only made bitter by the realization of what fueled the black fire. The sun beating down on the broken city, its light trying to clean away the dirt and grime and failing terribly in doing so.

And still...

A Resistance Fighter, the grip with which he holds his weapon a telling sign of his amateurism in military matters, but the strength in his pose telling a epic about his dedication to The Cause.

A Musician, standing to the side, avoiding the spotlight while giving a underlying soundtrack to this all. Trying to give meaning, trying to give reason to a world he recognizes but can no longer explain.

The Woman, liberated by this all, a victor in a war where there are no victors, a voice crying out against the madness that shall never again be quieted until she's dead. Considering the violence that has engulfed her environment, that might come sooner than any would wish.

some of this writing is more tryhard than a goodreads review

>>4180063

I'm sure the writers would appreciate you pointing out what specifically bothers you.

Something to learn from.

>>4180063
Well, they're all written pretty quickly and with no editing

>>4180052
-Are we going to die?
-I don't know. Probably
Air rushes past us.
-We're falling.
-It's pretty.
-Tell me what you can see.
-The clouds. Like the stuffing of a teddy bear strewn about.
-I'm thankful for the respirator.
-I'm thankful you're here.
-I don't want to die.
-Nobody does.
-You do.
-Yes, but that's different. I want to pass into nothingness, not have an Icarus death.
-What if we don't die?
-They'll likely kill us.
-How? How do they know where we'll land?
-GPS, I don't know.
-If we do die, I want to you hold me.
-But we'll both die alone.
-I don't care. What good is existentialism now?
-Good enough for me.

-We've broken through the clouds.
-I feel warm.
-We may even see a passenger jet.
-I've always wondered what they look like from above. How fast do they go?
-Does it matter?

-I can see the ground.
-Hold me. Wrap your arms around me, I want to die with you.
-We can probably make it.
-Then hold my hand.
-Thankyou
-It's going to be fine.
-No, no it won't. We're going to die.
-And? It's still going to be fine.
-Look! There's the-
-I know. It, it's gorgeous.This is what it's like to be a bird.
-A falcon. Diving at however so fast, yes.
-We're close now.
-We don't have parachutes.
-So hold me.
We wrap our arms around each other and brace for impact.

>>4180290

>>4179461

The crisp and cool wind of spring blew over her face like a blessing from God above.

He had remembered that day quite vividly. Not the time frame surrounding its few hours, nor the few minutes between each kiss, but the whole day in its entirety.

A multi-coloured sunset had cast its brilliance against the fields where they lay, and the dark evergreen trees dusted the earth with their pollen and acorns. A water-colour painted sky had been above them both as they lay there, basking in life and its simple pleasures.

"Do you love me?" she had asked quietly, flicking her green eye's cool gaze up towards his blonde head.

"With all my heart," he replied. And it was true. There wasn't a shred of doubt in his body that that had not been the case. They had known one another well over five years; ten years his younger and twice as pretty as when they'd first met, he couldn't help but think of her now as his boulder. A life without her had been unimaginable. That was then.

Now, the old man sat perched on his heels, watching the very pond where they had sat decades before. The same sky began to burn twilit around him; the grass had grown, untamed and unruly.

Long ago, he had trouble imagining a life without her.

As of yesterday though,at 2:03 A.M, he would have to.

>>4180342
"I'll shoot the moon, right out of the sky" he crooned, his jissom soundlessly spattering across the mare imbrium in spurts a mile long,
"I'll shoot the moon... for you"

>>4180292
The limbs of the planet earth lie amputated on the ground. Wasted by a creature they gave life to. Hundreds of years have passed for this ancient appendage and absolute harmony has surrounded itself and its associates because they are simple listeners and life givers.

Most of my youth, I searched for a sense of belonging, a unit which I could feel safe being part of. Growing up, my parents were stern; products of the age of Doctor Spock, Looney Tunes, bra burning, the birth control pill. And I was not an easy child, to say the least. I wouldn’t say that I was a brat, but I was intelligent, smarter than most children, and most adults for that matter. Naïveté, a lack of knowledge as to the inner workings of the greater world is what leaves children malleable and under the command of their guardians. I hated being lied to, especially under the assumption that I didn’t know any better because of my age. I felt treated as less than, my intellect under constant attack as “children were to be seen, but not heard.”
I secretly think my mother had me out of societal obligation, the expectation that all young girls grow to have babies with fat, rosy cheeks like that of Valentine cherubs and raise them under a sweetened guise of patience and tenderness, putting up with every skinned knee, every temper tantrum, every spilled glass of milk on the kitchen counter. Needless to say, my mother was not happy with motherhood. I was three when she had my younger sister, when she entered a horrible period of postpartum depression. I was constantly being beaten with wooden spoons, shoes, hard cover books and spanked for reasons that I didn’t totally understand. I remember my mother’s fits; forcing me down our basement stairs, a white child's chair seated next to the decaying furnace, crimson lead paint peeling from its iron limbs outstretched like rotting tree limbs; pink, fiberglass insulation hanging down like Spanish moss over sprawling rusted arms, entwined into the rafters of the exposed ceiling. Installed right next to the bomb shelter that my father converted into a dark room, its dull roar would shake the house during the chill of autumn and winter. Occasionally black soot would erupt from the heating vents in the middle of the night. As a toddler, I cried and cried while my mother locked the door and I was forced to sit next to the furnace.

>>4181579
10/10

no forreal, pretty good read

>>4181579
I'm feeling it

>>4181544
Thoughts on this?

>>4181544
>>4184094
Not very long but pretty good