KEEP THE BEST FOR LAST: Backloading Technique by Rayne Hall


BACKLOADING TECHNIQUE

Here is a nifty technique to give your writing style more impact: Structure your sentences so the most powerful word comes at the end. The last word touches the reader’s psyche more than any other, so make it count.

Short, evocative nouns, adjectives and verbs are best. Here’s a list for your inspiration: RayneHall - Fantasy Horror Author - Portrait by Fawnheartdeath, dead, kiss, lust, treachery, blood, fear, die, kill, deep, cold, heat, dark, boil, pull, grave, grip, grasp, hope, sear, scream, thrill, scar, bone, flesh, skull, wound, pray, pain, soul, child, flee, trap, teeth, curse, escape, safe, love.

These words, on the other hand, have no particular effect: it, then, them, across, through, there, somehow, around,  under, of, off, for, that, be, others, his, her.

Often, restructuring the sentence is all it takes, or perhaps adding, deleting or replacing Continue reading

“Blood Red” By Nicki Redes


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Nicki Redes

I looked around when I woke up, seeing green and black. The canvas before me smelled of fresh acrylic. Sap Green and Mars Black. No, Ivory Black. A novice would have never seen the difference, but I was no novice. The colors were my life, coursing with my blood, pumping tirelessly through my veins, so much so that I could smell the difference. The paintbrush, gripped like death in my right hand, bled down the handle and onto my forearm in rivulets of green over crusted ribbons of black. My arm trembled slightly as it always does after a frenzy Continue reading

Yolanda Marin–A Crumpled Body


The pain surprised her, she had thought it would hurt less this time, that she would be numb to it.  Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood.  She knew she would have to go and wash up.  He hated to see her dishevelled, she must look her best or it may set him off again.  Her body ached and she knew that in a little while it would be covered in bruises.

This time had been worse than the others. She had lost consciousness, coming to only when she felt Coco licking the blood off Continue reading

Francis Franklin-Untitled


The pain surprised her, she had thought it would hurt less this time. Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She knew she would have to find somewhere to wash. She knew she would have to find somewhere to hide. Already the sky was bright with the coming dawn. The hunters would be awake by now, eager to sniff out her trail. Like this one had. He should have stayed with them instead of charging into the night Continue reading

Youssef Sleiman–Untitled


The pain surprised her. She had thought it would hurt less this time. 

Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She knew she would have to find somewhere to wash. The borrowed red dress, doing its job perfectly to the aghast high school talent show audience, didn’t hide anything from her partner onstage, Denis Friebt. He held the gun – and a face awash with defeat, horror and guilt.

“You can’t make me shoot you onstage. They’re going to know about it,” Denis said, wearing a face full of defiance, horror and fear. “I’ll get expelled.” Continue reading

Justin Michael Schmidt–Untitled


Sleet pinging against dark glass behind him, wind whipped leaves stampeding past his feet on the unlit path, an eerie howl screaming through the treetops; he knew he had trespassed against all reason and common sense, yet he walked further, bent against the storm, forward to meet his nightmare face-to-face.

He is not really here. His body lays where it has fallen in what was once their home. Some part of him knows this, but does not care…

“Maggie!” He was screaming himself now; screaming into oblivion. But, the wind howled to mock him and his lost love. Continue reading

Amy Glamos–Untitled


The rain had turned to ice somewhere between his house and the path, slicing at his raw hands and pinging against the dark glass of the windows behind him.  He clutched his coat tighter, desperate to hold onto the residual heat of her.  The wound on his shoulder trickled down his back beneath the layers, a viscid reminder of exactly what he was chasing after.  Somewhere through the swaying trees, an eerie howl pierced the silence of the storm.  She is near, he thought.

His steps quickened on the icy path as he slid his freezing hands into his pockets.  His stiff fingers closed around the cold metal of a gun.  Continue reading

Myron Dansby–Untitled


It was a stab in the hart, that she didn’t expect, after all, she hardly knew this little cat, it belonged to the neighbor, and it was bothersome at times, coming over and rubbing against her leg, running back and forth in the street.
as she knelt down by its lifeless body, a tear fell from her her cheek and disappeared into the pond of warm blood, she felt angry and sad at the same time.
if it wasn’t in the street that car wouldn’t have hit it!  she plucked up the body from the street and carried it to the old lady’s yard she was covered with blood and she knew she would have to find somewhere to wash. Continue reading

Nathan Kane–Untitled


”Sleet pinging against dark glass behind him, wind whipped leaves stampeding past his feet on the unlit path, an eerie howl screaming through the treetops; he knew he had trespassed against all reason and common sense, yet he walked further, bent against the storm, forward to meet his nightmare face-to-face.”

Everything in his ever cowering soul desperately pleaded for him to turn and run away.  To flee away from it as he always had before.  But there was no turning back now.  Escape was impossible now as he could already feel the piercing of eyes burnt their hatred into him from behind and everywhere around him.  The pseudo safety that he had always fled to before was nothing but a vague memory now.  It no longer existed as his choice to flee was also nothing but a distant and forgotten illusion. Continue reading

T L Scott–Untitled


”The pain surprised her, she had thought it would hurt less this time. Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She knew she would have to find somewhere to wash.”

She couldn’t let them see her like this.  They would take her away again.  Take her away to the bad place.   They said they would cure her.  If they saw her like this then they would know.  She couldn’t let them find out.  They couldn’t help her then and they can’t help her now.  She looked at the fresh cut she had inflicted upon her scarred body.  It wasn’t even bleeding that bad anymore.  She hadn’t succeeded in what she wanted to do.  At least the pain made it go away for a while.  The pain drove it back, but never too far away.  She knew that IT would be back again to torment her. Continue reading

Christine Campbell–Untitled


The pain surprised her, she had thought it would hurt less this time. Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She needed to wash up, but her strength was gone, seeping out of her in that warm, sticky flow.

He’d gone now: gone to the pub. He’d be ‘drowning his sorrow’, as the saying goes, except it wasn’t his sorrow. It was hers. She looked at the implements of his torture, knowing she’d have to clean up before he came back. God knew she could do without feeling the weight of his fist on top of everything else. Continue reading

Rea de Miranda


The pain surprised her, she had thought it would hurt less this time. Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She knew she would have to find somewhere to wash.

He used more force this time and the wound is bleeding bright red, flowing down her knees. How was she going to explain this one to her husband? The previous time she used the big root from the old sycamore tree as her excuse, tripping and falling and gashing her skin on the spade he left lying around. She still shudder to think how mortified he was, begging her forgiveness. Continue reading