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Silence smiled coyly in the shadowed room as the small boy stared at the wall, exhausted and exhilerated. Something returned his gaze from the dark, he knew, but what exactly...? He couldn't guess. He felt the thing, though; its breath synchronized with his, its every inhalation mirror to his own. Even their hearts, he felt, beat as one, his quickened from fear, maybe its, in anticipation.

"Leave me alone..." the boy whimpered, his own dark eyes peeking out from behind the safety of his comforter. It was a Donald Duck print, and the boy already knew he couldn't count on that character to save the day. The duck was every bit as cowardly as himself.

If the night heard the boy's plea, though, it cared little, allowing him to sip the silence that trickled slowly into the room along with the dark. No moon tonight, to peek through thick windows and cast light on nightmares. The shadows ran free and played in the boy's domain, creating phantasmal shapes, dark spirits. Although his heart quickened, he was too tired to show it outwardly. Fear had been his parasite, consuming greedily until there was nothing.

Extreme alchuphobia

They were two words he had heard countless times in his life, raised with like siblings, and soon, he felt they'd be his epitaph. How could he face what no one believed in?

It was the unknown monster, the dark.

"I-I said, leave me alone," the boy said again with less strength, hugging his knees to his chest now. The room had gotten chilly, and the shadows crept slyly across the walls. Time itself seemed to trail behind them.

Perhaps it would finally take him.

The thought slid briefly across his mind, and a strange, wild mixture of fear and glee made him giggle as he hugged himself tighter, his grin widening into a chasm. The dark approached, and his laugh began to bounce madly off the walls. Fear seemed to press down on him, hot and stifling. Still he laughed, unable to stop.

Then, light.

The dark retreated, and the boy shuddered violently, burying his face in his knees. His body continued to vibrate as the fear that invaded before refused to relinquish its seat. Two women, each clad in the medical outfits that always seemed to him impossibly white, rushed to his bed in equal fashion.

"Shhhh," the large one soothed, immediately pulling him into the safety of her bulk. "You just had another one of your bad dreams, okay? It's okay now." She then turned on the other nurse, voice cool by eyes afire. "His light is never to be off, do you understand?"

The thin nurse nodded, eyes to the floor. She had forgotten and turned the light off in habit. The large one rocked him back and forth like an infant, her voice calm and cool and gentle. And the boy with no tears simply let her. His arms dangled on his sides as if he was a puppet, and indeed, his eyes were as blank as any's.

Still, he smiled, albeit slightly. A portion of the dark remained, in the corner, as if keeping watch of him, and if he really listened, he could hear it sigh his name. And that's how he knew he wasn't sick, like they always said to him with those same, sad eyes. The dark was real and he smiled, because in it, he saw futility.

It's nice to see someone posting here who obviously knows what they're doing and isn't just trying to write unoriginal fantasy. You've got an economy of language and the ability to evoke images without overtelling things. I do have some suggestions, which I put in red down below:




Silence smiled coyly in the shadowed room as the small boy stared at the wall, exhausted and exhilerated. Something returned his gaze from the dark; he knew, without truly knowing. <font color=red>[Paradox can be effective, but here I'm not sure if there's enough clarity about what it means in this context to know "without truly knowing."]</font>

He felt the thing, however,<font color=red></font> its breath synchronized with his, its every inhalation mirror to his own. Even their hearts, he felt, beat as one, his quickened from fear, maybe its, in anticipation.

"Leave me alone..." the boy whimpered, his own dark eyes peeking out from behind the safety of his comforter. It was a Donald Duck print, and the boy already knew he couldn't count on [i]him <font color=red>[this pronoun looks like it's referring to "the boy" even though it's obvious what you mean; you might be able to find another way to refer to "Donald Duck" without saying his name again that would make it read smoother]</font> to save the day. The duck was every bit as cowardly as himself.

If the night heard the boy's plea, though, it cared little, allowing him to sip the silence that trickled slowly into the room along with the dark. No moon tonight, to peek through thick windows and cast light on nightmares. The shadows ran free and played in the boy's domain, creating phantasmal shapes, dark spirits. Although his heart quickened, he was too tired to show it outwardly. Fear had been his parasite, consuming greedily until there was nothing.

Extreme alchuphobia

They were two words he had heard countless times in his life, rasied with like siblings, and soon, he felt they'd be his epitaph. How could he face what no one believed in?

It was the unknown monster, the dark.


"I-I said, leave me alone," the boy said again with less strength, hugging his knees to his chest now. The room had gotten chilly, and the shadows crept slyly <font color=red>[I didn't feel that the shadows themselves had been personified enough yet to be sly, but I'd get a second or third or fifth opinion on that]</font> across the walls. Time itself seemed to trail behind them.

Perhaps it would finally take him.

The thought slid briefly across his mind, and a strange mixture of fear and glee made him giggle as he hugged himself tighter, the grin on his face a chasm that split his face<font color=red>[you just used the word face, sounds a little awkward]</font> in two. The dark approached, and his laugh began to bounce madly off the walls. Fear seemed to press down on him, hot and stifling. Still he laughed, unable to stop.

Then, light.

The dark retreated, and the boy shuddered violently, burying his face in<font color=red>to</font> his knees. His body continued to vibrate as the fear that invaded before refused to relenquish its seat. Two women, each clad in the medical outfits which <font color=red>[techinically should be "that" instead of "which"]</font> always seemed to him,<font color=red>[I'd eliminate this comma]</font> impossibly white, rushed to his bed in equal fashion.

"Shhhh," the large one soothed, immediately pulling him into the safety of her bulk. "You just had another one of your bad dreams, okay? It's okay now." She then turned on the other nurse, voice cool by eyes afire. "His light is never to be off, do you understand?"

The thin nurse nodded, eyes to the floor. She had forgotten and turned the light off in habit. The large one rocked him back and forth like an infant, her voice calm and cool and gentle. And the boy with no tears simply let her. His arms dangled on his sides as if he was a puppet, and indeed, his eyes were as blank as any's. <font color=red>[I see what you mean, but I "any's" is still kind of awkward here. There's probably a smoother way to say this]</font>

Still, he smiled, albeit slightly. A portion of the dark remained, in the corner, as if keeping watch of <font color=red>[over]</font> him, and if he really listened, he could hear it sigh his name. And that's how he knew he wasn't sick, like they always said to him with those same, sad eyes. The dark was real and he smiled, because in it, he saw futility.







Hope some of these suggestions are helpful to you.

It's nice to see someone posting here who obviously knows what they're doing and isn't just trying to write unoriginal fantasy. You've got an economy of language and the ability to evoke images without overtelling things. I do have some suggestions, which I put in red down below:




Silence smiled coyly in the shadowed room as the small boy stared at the wall, exhausted and exhilerated. Something returned his gaze from the dark; he knew, without truly knowing. <font color=red>[Paradox can be effective, but here I'm not sure if there's enough clarity about what it means in this context to know "without truly knowing."]</font>

He felt the thing, however,<font color=red></font> its breath synchronized with his, its every inhalation mirror to his own. Even their hearts, he felt, beat as one, his quickened from fear, maybe its, in anticipation.

"Leave me alone..." the boy whimpered, his own dark eyes peeking out from behind the safety of his comforter. It was a Donald Duck print, and the boy already knew he couldn't count on [i]him <font color=red>[this pronoun looks like it's referring to "the boy" even though it's obvious what you mean; you might be able to find another way to refer to "Donald Duck" without saying his name again that would make it read smoother]</font> to save the day. The duck was every bit as cowardly as himself.

If the night heard the boy's plea, though, it cared little, allowing him to sip the silence that trickled slowly into the room along with the dark. No moon tonight, to peek through thick windows and cast light on nightmares. The shadows ran free and played in the boy's domain, creating phantasmal shapes, dark spirits. Although his heart quickened, he was too tired to show it outwardly. Fear had been his parasite, consuming greedily until there was nothing.

Extreme alchuphobia

They were two words he had heard countless times in his life, rasied with like siblings, and soon, he felt they'd be his epitaph. How could he face what no one believed in?

It was the unknown monster, the dark.


"I-I said, leave me alone," the boy said again with less strength, hugging his knees to his chest now. The room had gotten chilly, and the shadows crept slyly <font color=red>[I didn't feel that the shadows themselves had been personified enough yet to be sly, but I'd get a second or third or fifth opinion on that]</font> across the walls. Time itself seemed to trail behind them.

Perhaps it would finally take him.

The thought slid briefly across his mind, and a strange mixture of fear and glee made him giggle as he hugged himself tighter, the grin on his face a chasm that split his face<font color=red>[you just used the word face, sounds a little awkward]</font> in two. The dark approached, and his laugh began to bounce madly off the walls. Fear seemed to press down on him, hot and stifling. Still he laughed, unable to stop.

Then, light.

The dark retreated, and the boy shuddered violently, burying his face in<font color=red>to</font> his knees. His body continued to vibrate as the fear that invaded before refused to relenquish its seat. Two women, each clad in the medical outfits which <font color=red>[techinically should be "that" instead of "which"]</font> always seemed to him,<font color=red>[I'd eliminate this comma]</font> impossibly white, rushed to his bed in equal fashion.

"Shhhh," the large one soothed, immediately pulling him into the safety of her bulk. "You just had another one of your bad dreams, okay? It's okay now." She then turned on the other nurse, voice cool by eyes afire. "His light is never to be off, do you understand?"

The thin nurse nodded, eyes to the floor. She had forgotten and turned the light off in habit. The large one rocked him back and forth like an infant, her voice calm and cool and gentle. And the boy with no tears simply let her. His arms dangled on his sides as if he was a puppet, and indeed, his eyes were as blank as any's. <font color=red>[I see what you mean, but I "any's" is still kind of awkward here. There's probably a smoother way to say this]</font>

Still, he smiled, albeit slightly. A portion of the dark remained, in the corner, as if keeping watch of <font color=red>[over]</font> him, and if he really listened, he could hear it sigh his name. And that's how he knew he wasn't sick, like they always said to him with those same, sad eyes. The dark was real and he smiled, because in it, he saw futility.







Hope some of these suggestions are helpful to you.

All taken and accounted for, great critique, thanks. I would've responded to each crit, but my copy/paste decided to go on strike. I'll try to post the next part of this soon. Can't really think of anything for the puppet line though. Any suggestions?

you guys are alot better than me. somehow it flows with with ease as i get a little more choppy stuff.