Category: Writers Block
Let's see some creativity:
He picked up the knife, the scraping sound of the metal providing a counterpoint to his own beating heart. He gripped it so tightly that it nuckles turned white. He had decided what he was going to do, there was nothing to turn him from his course, it was set. He could see it now, the screams, the crying and begging, and the blood, above all the blood. He would enjoy and hate what he was about to do, as he hated himself, as he hated the world. Rising to his feet, he moved toward the closed door of the room he had already chosen. Reaching out his left hand, he turned the nob.;..
As OJ Simpson entered the room...
She watched the door open with a cold dread.His eyes were alive with hatred and the cause and effect of 1,000's of disturbing images dancing around in his head. She knew it was useless to talk. It was too late, it had been too late, after the last massacre,when the bombs had fallen like merciless radioactive sleet. He came towards her holding the knife upright and an insane memory of a scene from Psycho, crossed her fevered mind. Her eyes shifted to watch the armoured cars passing steadily in a stream to attack the remaining rebel positions. {They will not have long to fight now 6 people have the virus}