The assailant plunged his knife deep into Peter Lumberg's throat, the blade penetrating almost to the heart and causing blood to spray onto surrounding foliage; a catastrophic wound, though not sufficiently catastrophic for the attacker who unleashed a frenzied assault, stabbing repeatedly into the face and neck, punching the knife so deep into the flesh it struck vertebrae. At the age of 67, Lumberg offered little resistance, no longer strong enough to fight off a determined foe. When he slumped to the ground, his assassin traded the pocket knife for a tomahawk and hacked into his head and neck, cleaving through the jawbone and severing the tongue. In a flash of blades, the old fellow died and his blood drained into the sand of the small bush clearing. Apparently uninterested in the victim's immediate possessions, the killer stole nothing, not that Peter had much to steal; a few cooking utensils and basic foodstuff strewn around the camp - cans of sardines and peas, a tin of milk, rolled oats, salted beef and a loaf of bread lodged in the branches of a sprawling mango tree. The old man's makeshift tent housed little more than a bed …show more content…
Officially named The Royal, only bumptious bureaucrats insisted on the pub's formal designation. Generally, patrons called it the Parramatta after a previous establishment which burnt down on the same site or Dunwoodie's, after George's mother, who recently bought it. Seaton - who called it the Royal - a man accustomed to wielding authority, wasted few words, "Put your hat on and come over. I think there's a man dead." Not bothering to elaborate, he led George back to where the mango tree rose above the surrounding bush and pinpointed the campsite. Even before they turned off the road onto a path through the undergrowth, George glimpsed the tent and beyond it, a swarming cloud of flies. "Don't touch the body, and don't let anyone near it till I bring the police," ordered the
O’Connor himself wasn’t partially physically intimidating. This fact became abundantly clear once he stepped off his chair and approached me. While not necessarily short in stature, his seat gave him an extra few inches compared to his natural stance.
Stephen King’s “On Writing,” is a memoir of the author’s experiences as a writer and serves as a guidebook for those who choose to enter the craft of writing. Stephen King writes about his childhood and young adulthood, relating stories that made him the writer he has become. Stephen King then moves into the mechanics of writing, offering advice and insight into a successful career that has worked so well for him but remains distant for thousands of others.
The window was cold to the touch. The glass shimmered as the specks of sunlight danced, and Blake stood, peering out. As God put his head to the window, at once, he felt light shining through his soul. Six years old. Age ceased to define him and time ceased to exist. Silence seeped into every crevice of the room, and slowly, as the awe of the vision engulfed him, he felt the gates slowly open. His thoughts grew fluid, unrestrained, and almost chaotic. An untouched imagination had been liberated, and soon, the world around him transformed into one of magnificence and wonder. His childish naivety cloaked the flaws and turbulence of London, and the imagination became, to Blake, the body of God. The darkness lingering in the corners of London slowly became light. Years passed by, slowly fading into wisps of the past, and the blanket of innocence deteriorated as reality blurred the clarity of childhood.
This narrative of broken lives begins with a man cut, not broken, but stories find their own beginnings and on Monday, 4th September 1905, an assailant drove a knife deep into Peter Lumberg's throat causing his blood to spray onto foliage metres away; a fatal wound, though not fatal enough for the attacker who unleashed a frenzied assault; cutting, slashing and stabbing Peter's face a dozen times and finally, chopping into the back of his head with a tomahawk. The victim offered little resistance. At the age of 67, he no longer possessed the strength to fight off a determined murderer.
The Thief who had stolen all of The Man’s provisions which he needed for him and his son. When The Man caught up with The Thief, The Man took “every goddamned stitch” and even “the rotting pieces of leather laced to his feet” from The Thief(McCarthy 256 - 257). Taking The Thief’s possessions in addition to reclaiming the stolen supplies is an appeasement of the vengeance brewing within The Man, it is retribution according to The Man. That retribution is, at least to The Man, by the fact “[The Thief] didn’t mind doing it to [The Man and The Boy].. [the Thief] took everything” because The Man was only leaving “[The Thief] the way [The Thief] left us”(McCarthy 257).
The story goes into explaining the difference between an organized and independent killer. Primarily, this story is of an independent killer whose contract with a customer determines his price for killing. The independent killer works for himself and trains and learns how to become a professional killer so that when a customer seeks a hitman, they know the perfect person that will perform the execution. Based off the contract for the hitman, it is beneficial that the hitman does not know the motive for killing; because, it may inhibit execution because of morally justified behavior. In the story of the hitman Pete, focused on what the money for killing might bring- (such as good reputation and a certain lifestyle), and ignored what the killing of one person might do and also the reaction of the victim during execution. When Pete encountered his first execution, the look on the victims face is what haunted him until his second killing. Based off the look from his first killing, is what ignited his suppressed feeling of deviance and wrongful killing, starting his professional hitman
Once upon a time deep in a large forest there lived a woodchopper, his wife, and their two children, Hansel and Gretel. It was a beautiful forest, full of trees, flowers and butterflies and streams. Matter of fact, the family had everything they could ever want except for one little thing.
Nobody thought of Peter as a killer but put a gun in the hands of a tormented seventeen year old why
was killed when he was struck, with a poisonous arrow, in the one small spot on
Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir, was a very interesting book to read, to say the least. Frank in his opinions, King did not shy away from telling the reader what makes a good writer: talent and ambition. King had a colloquial tone throughout his book even cautioning the reader that “this is a short book because most books about writing are filled with bullshit” (9). Through this book, readers found out about eventful events that happened to King as a child and how they influenced him to write some of his most popular books. For instance, a wilderness area near his house gave him the inspiration for the setting of his book, It. He states, “the kids in It called it the Barrens; we called it the jungle” (30). King, does not believe himself to be a perfect writer, regardless of his popularity. The reader was not only entertained with his stories, but also gained knowledge about writing and the fact that it isn’t easy. Although King grew up with nothing and even lost hope a few times, he always went back to writing.
As the life was slowly being drained from the sky, the snow began to fall. Snow, like soldiers in battle getting slaughtered and left to rot on the battlefield. The innocent army began to impale itself into the ground, with the only hope of survival was to die. An army whose uniform was covered in the blood of its previous owner. When it coated the earth, the snow was almost turning the bloodsoaked ground pure with the colour of its flesh.
The Woodley Forest was a place filled with open, grassy fields and areas packed with clustered trees. Suddenly, a hedgehog emerged from a shallow burrow in the ground and began scavenging for a scrumptious dinner consisting of worms, snails, and insects. The hedgehog dug into the ground with his small paws and found himself the meal he had been searching for. Then, a swift fox came scurrying into the meadow and glanced around, hoping to find something that could prompt some excitement after his uneventful morning. All of a sudden, the fox caught a glimpse of the hedgehog grubbing the soil. He leapt forward and sprinted towards his prey. The hedgehog immediately realized the danger racing towards him and ran to the nearest oak tree and climbed
decapitated,force and exact precision were needed in order for it to be a success (Jonas L. Bulman). If the blade did not hit the exact spot on the neck it would become
Louise was an orphan whose parents died when she was very young. So the only thing she hated very much was separation. Her parents left an ancestral gemstone ring for her, which suited her very well. She did not sell it for money, instead of which, for more than ten years, she earned her living as a tailor assistant. She hoped one day she can become a designer and make really beautiful clothes. Her ultimate goal was to design soldiers’ clothes since she really admired soldiers due to their heroic spirit and machismo. Now, since she was eighteen years old, she reached the age of marriage. Hearing the kindness and braveness of the General, Louise felt that she fell in love with him even if she had never seen him before. So in order to see the General, Louise worked day and night. She wished in the near future she can be interviewed by the General and get his praise because of the nice clothes she designed. Moved by her determination, a fairy decided to bring the General in front of Louise; however, because the magic was low, the meeting could only last 7 days and the General would forget what he experienced during the seven days. For Louise, she was so sad about the fact but she also knew she was lucky.
As the story is progressing and the book is almost to its resolution, The Man and The Boy come across another man who has stolen all of their survival items. The Thief is forced to endure the punishment decided by The Man, the loss of all his clothes and being left for dead. “I’m starving, man. You’d have done the same” (McCarthy, 257). The Thief openly speaks of his misery, becoming the figure of desperation within the novel.