Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-4843510-20150715203943

So I had uploaded this after spending ages on a decent idea. I was super gutted it was deleted. I also don't like the generic reasoning to "doesn't meet wiki standards" as it doesn't help but whatever. Any feedback is appreatiated, especially if from the people who removed it so I get exactly what the problem is. Thanks all! :)

I drove up, finally arriving at my target destination. No one was really sure what it was called; the carving in the stone was faded with age, and over the faint traces was carved roughly "LIMBCHOP CEMETERY". No one really knows why this name was given, but it sure isn't a mystery that this wasn't always the same of the place.

I was the kind of jackass that ran to the supposed creepy and haunted placed, only because I wasn't the person to believe that shit, and the stories I heard of this place was no exception. The story essentially goes that in the heart of this grave site lies a small house (two stories, but small nonetheless). No one actually goes here to bury their deceased loved ones, but more gravestones seem to pop up all the time, meaning this place is still active. No one knows how this happens. I just came here to prove they're all being stupid.

I opened the worn out birch wood gate. They were a bit too loose, so they crashed into the fences that surrounded the site made out of the same material. I hope I didn't disturb in the inhabitent of this place I joked with myself. The grass was clearly dry; no water has come in contact with the soil for... well who knows? The crooked and misplaced stones of death were placed everywhere. Whoever planted these stones had no skill in doing so. Something did strike me about these though; they were all VERY old, worn out with hardly any visible writing on them, and the soil that covered their lifeless bodies had been overgrown with what is now dry grass. I continued walking on the soft gravel path that led to, well I didn't know at the time. I continued walking, the path now made of concrete and then I saw it. The legendary two story house was right in front of me, but clearly very old. It didn't even look like it could support itself, more like it would collapse at any given moment.

I walked over to the wooden door. It had been painted green (long ago of course), but most of that paint had vanished. There was also a window on the door, but it was too dirty for me to see anything. The colour was a very distinct and dirty shade of brown, and the stain had come from the inside. The brass handle was tarnished and corroded, so I did what anyone would do. I slammed my whole body against the door several times, until the lock finally gave in. Inside, was what I could purely describe as nightmare fuel. Old blood, was splattered all over the walls, the tables... everything. I could only remember the brown stain on the window; it must have been blood. I also saw limbs, arms and legs hanging around the walls, on the floor and tables. Frozen in shock, I could make out faint details of sound. I could hear heavy boots slam into the creaking steps. It was slow, but rattled the ancient building. I tried to move, but I was frozen, until by the door, I saw him.

Then, I started to run. Running was the only thing on my mind; that and the panic. I knew my jackass days would kill me one day, but not like this. My legs gave in soon, when I thought I had outrun him, but I realized I was still on the concrete segment of the path. I was still close. I turned around to see him, covered up in pure black clothing. He raised a tool, which I realized was an axe all too late. He hit me on the head with the blunt edge, creating a gash in my head. I groaned in pain trying to life myself up before he buried the axe into my arm, ripping it away. I screamed in painful agony. He did it again, this time in my leg. I couldn't scream, the blood loss drained my energy. The last thing I saw, was a faint grin as he slowly raised the axe once again. 