The scythe of L’Ankou by Boredman on DeviantArt.com
Sarah had seen everyone else decapitated, immolated, or violated until they were yanked inside out and twitching in the shadows of the poplars.
Her Camp Blackburn t-shirt was sweat through, giving her a chill.
The stars were bullets bending in space.
She grabbed the hedge-clippers from the rusty shed and waited.
Her hiking boots would run no more.
The killer lurched forward.
Sarah began to hyperventilate.
The killer whipped the scythe in the air.
The round blade flopped towards the boathouse.
Sarah’s shears snipped again.
His wet wrist-bones were jabbing her flesh, as she kept cutting him down to size.
Scrawl Brawl 
“The stars were bullets bending in space.” I love that line. The punch line at the end is great, too.
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Huh? What’s going on here? Slapping together a few pretty lines won’t save you from a confusing, nonsensical plot. Ending with “cut him down to size” is lazy and cliche. “Bullets bending” and “wrist-bones jabbing flesh” is also awkward and doesn’t serve the story. Weird for the sake of being weird. Yawn.
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